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#and how he has given up everything he loves for the chance to do good
gurugirl · 1 day
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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lenaellsi · 4 hours
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One thing that really gets me about the opening with angel Crowley is that he's not just excited by how beautiful his stars are, or how fun the process of creation is, or how impressed he's made Aziraphale. He’s not in it for the glory or the aesthetics. He’s actually horrified by the idea that the universe will just be "fancy wallpaper" in the future, even though Aziraphale assures him that humans will "marvel" at his creations.
What Crowley loves about his stars is their potential. He is building, essentially, a nursery. Most of the universe's stars, he explains to Aziraphale, will come pre-aged--but his are just starting out! After they're given time to grow, who knows what could happen! Good or bad, black holes or new constellations—there are so many possible futures ahead of them, and Crowley can’t wait to see what happens.
And then Aziraphale tells him that he knows what will happen: those stars will never grow up. They will never shine or burn out or implode or become anything new. They’ll be destroyed before they get the chance.
"You can't kill kids."
“Whose side are you on?” “God’s, of course!” “Same God that wants me to whack the kids?”
"People die." "They do, don't they?"
“Great pustulant mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan!”
"Don't test them to destruction."
"It's always too late."
"Nothing lasts forever." "No, I don't suppose it does."
This fear has been chasing Crowley since before the beginning. It’s what caused his first doubts, put the first traces of gray in his wings. He’s been raging at the futility of watching beautiful, complex things be damned or destroyed for his entire existence, and that’s why he seems to the audience and to Aziraphale to be a mess of contradictions.
He loves to follow the trends of the times, but he clings to his classic car in an era of planned obsolescence for vehicles. He lives in an ultra-modern flat, but finds his greatest comfort in the unchanging security of aziraphale’s old shop. He hates the idea of killing children, but is willing to see a child die if it preserves the rest of the universe and foils the Great Plan. He “goes too fast,” but his most unique and notable power is that he’s learned to stop time.
Crowley hates predestination. He hates divine intervention and the removal of agency. Crowley, the architect of free will, is constantly torn between his love of change and choice and potential and his terror that everything will be destroyed by an unstoppable, incomprehensible higher power. That’s his driving conflict in the way that Aziraphale’s is learning to find his own path without following Heaven’s rules, and I am fascinated to see how it resolves.
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leviathanleva · 4 hours
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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader
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Request:
This is kind of a weird req and I want to write something for it eventually but-
Fem! Reader who was frozen but eventually escapes and falls for the Ghoul and they fuck a couple times and for some reason she has symptoms of pregnancy and they're like what the fuck but it just turns out that she was pregnant before she was frozen and the Ghoul's reactions and whatever. Angst or fluff I don't really mind :)
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[MDNI, Angst, Smut, Fluff]
[ I don't usually do requests, but I wanted to help out a friend who believed they wouldn't be able to do justice to this prompt. It's sloppy, not perfect, but time is limited and I have other projects that need my attention so I hope this suffices. ]
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Freedom.
Freedom was sweet.
Freedom was bitter.
Since the moment you’d awoken in that Gods-forsaken cryo pod in that wasting away vault you’d known there was no other path except the path of freedom. Stepping over mummified corpses, fellow vault dwellers you presumed, you’d lead wobbly legs and a pounding heart to the entrance of the vault. It felt like yesterday you’d first set foot in there. In reality, you had no idea how many years had passed, but from the looks of the rusting walls and thick blanket of dust, it had been a while.
You took what you could, stuffing a stray children’s backpack you’d found along your scavenging mission, anything and everything that would be necessary for a journey into a land you used to call home. A small pocket knife was the best you could get and it wasn’t the perfect self-defense tool, but with no other choice there wasn’t much you could do but stuff it in the pocket of your suit and hope for a miracle if you ran into trouble.
And trouble you found.
Since your first step into the bone-dry, scalding hot, merciless wasteland, you’d found trouble in the shape of a deranged group of people hammering at the vault door with makeshift weapons. You might have been able to fight off one of them, you doubted given how dizzy and out-of-touch with reality you were, but there was a slim chance. Three of them though, all large burly men with enough scars to put a military general to shame? No, that was impossible. You ended up a writhing mess on the ground, face pushed into the cracked soil and screaming and kicking as you were being taunted and tied up like a good catch after a successful hunt. Trafficking, cannibalism, organ harvesting, death. A slew of words so vile they made your stomach churn and your eyes bulge out of your skull because who in their right mind said such things to an outnumbered, weak woman who pleaded in a broken voice and had tears staining her cheeks?
Then he appeared, your guardian angel.
A man so grotesque on the outside, so vicious and bitter and terrifying, and yet he was the one who shot your captors down. He was the one who cut your wrists and ankles free and helped you sit up as you heaved and choked and sobbed. He was the one who checked you over despite the visible revulsion on his gaunt face at the sight of your vault suit. He’d dragged you to your feet, forced some sense into you, given you a stern reality check of the world he came from and never really shooed you away when you’d started following him around like a lost pup.
You loved him since that day.
And maybe it wasn’t the good kind of love because he’d used you as a distraction for his enemies more than once and never shared his water with you even if you were on the brink of passing out from dehydration. But he also let you sit close to the fire at night, told you stories of his bounty hunts, taught you how to handle a gun and always kept you in his sights lest someone thought you were up for grabs. He was a cruel man, but he was also a kind man.
You never overstepped. Always following his every order, whether it was to hide, to strip bleeding men of their valuables, or to get him another drink when his feet were kicked high and he couldn’t be bothered to do so himself. Always pliant, always willing, no questions asked because you wanted to live despite the hellhole reality you were thrust in. Maybe that’s why he grew fond of you over time, you didn’t rebel against him and took what he gave you with a whisper of gratitude. A good dog, that’s how he saw you. He slowly softened for you, split your rations evenly when you sat down to eat, thrust the canteen in your hands when he noticed your lips were dry, and smushed his hat over your head when the sun was too awful and you were too delicate to withstand it.
Cooper Howard, that was his name, a man made ghoul by the sheer toxicity of the surface, a man who gave you enough scraps to keep your love for him flourishing but never progressed things beyond a one-sided infatuation.
That is until he was left struggling on the floor of an old abandoned farmhouse, a feral ghoul looming above him and pinning him in place and snapping its jaws at him as foul-smelling, viscous drool dribbled down its chin. His hunting knife was gripped tightly, but between keeping himself from being bitten to shreds and holding one of the ghoul’s hands at bay before it could sink into his side and tear at his gut, he was stuck.
When the shot rang out and the ghoul slumped against him lifelessly, he saw you. Holding his gun as you shook violently, about ready to piss yourself because you’d never killed anything remotely resembling a human in your life, eyes wide and lips trembling and knees buckling. Smoke leisurely rose from the tip of the barrel and as he pushed the corpse off himself you sunk to your arse and burst into a fit of haggard breaths and disturbed whines.
You didn’t resist when he picked you up with alien tenderness, didn’t protest when he stuffed you in an old rickety couch and crushed you beneath his weight with a handful of sweet praises. You didn’t pull away in disgust when his tongue pushed past your lips in search of your own, twirling, dancing, letting words spill without ever being spoken. He wasn’t gentle, since the moment you heard his belt unbuckling he was all pawing hands and chopped curses, fiddling with your clothes until his need became too much to bear and he simply ripped them off. He threw a weak promise to get you new ones, but you couldn't care less at that moment. High-pitched mewls and desperate grunts bounced off the walls as he took you on that couch, rutting into you like a man possessed and gripping onto you so firmly as if you’d come to your senses any moment now and run away from him.
A radstorm raged outside, clashing against the boarded-up windows as the pitter-patter of acid rain poured against the tin roof. You never even noticed, too drunk on the sloppy sounds coming from the slick mess of your conjoined bodies, on the verge of a climax so raw it would surely knock you out. Blunt fingernails sank in your supple thighs, scarred hips slammed into yours as he fucked you dumb into the couch. His mouth never left yours, whether it was to keep himself quiet in case too many loving words escaped or because he craved your taste like a rabid dog did blood, you didn’t know. When your ankles locked around his waist he snarled, whatever self-control he’d managed to scrape by completely dissipating as he drove himself deeper. The tip of his cock snapped against the barrier of your squishy cervix so deliciously and you screamed his name in desperation and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He released one of your hips to slide a hand between your bodies and drag his rough thumb over your swollen clit. Your back arched, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you bombarded him with barely coherent sentences that he didn’t deserve. He clutched at your hair when you clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had while he rocked out his release with face stuffed in the crook of your neck.
Something in him changed after that night.
It might have been the unfathomably long time without a caring touch or him finally succumbing to the little voices in his head telling him what he held for you wasn’t simply fondness. He took you every chance he got. In a guest house, against the wall of a bar after one too many drinks, bent over on a chewed-up fence after scavenging another farmhouse. He was relentless and you loved that about him. You loved everything about him. Always needy and ready and he couldn’t ask for more because this was the closest he could get to expressing himself when it came to you.
Life was good.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
You wince as the needle prickles your skin before retracting back in the Pip-boy. The green screen whirls, loading up and analyzing your blood sample for a full body scan. You give the damn thing a few smacks when it freezes and stutters.
Now really wasn’t the time for technical difficulties.
“You okay?”
Apparently, no matter how hard you had tried to hide your bubbling panic, it was still evident enough for Cooper to notice. He’s looking at you with a hint of suspicion, attention averted from the steaming can of cram he’d been stuffing in his mouth.
“I’m good, no worries.” you muster up a weary smile and instinctively tuck the Pip-boy closer to your stomach.
When the Vault Boy pops up on the screen with all the information available regarding your condition, you tense up. Your fingers hesitate to turn the cog to the main body scan as doubts and confusion and raw, untamable fear chew at your sensitive stomach and tug you slowly towards the gates of insanity.
“Don’t look okay to me.” Cooper straightens from his slouched-over position over the measly fire and sets aside his food before clasping a hand over one of his thighs. “Was wrong? Was I too rough again?” there’s a teasing scowl brightening his usually stoic expression, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you t’ smack my shoulder when I get too loose, woman. You never listen.”
You want to cry and laugh, but you do neither.
“That’s not it, Cooper.”
“Then speak for fuck’s sake!” he grumbles and gestures to you with slight agitation.
You pay him no mind, having delved too deep in the premises of your mind on what you were supposed to do if you read that single life-changing word on the scan. With a huff and a mental pat on your back, you turned the cog and opened the main body scan.
“Pregnant.”
It made sense. It explained the morning sickness that you hid, being forced out of your sleep while Cooper snored lightly next to you, and carefully pulling away before rushing to a safe spot where you could empty your stomach without being seen. You never told him, just jammed RadAway after RadAway, hoping it was poisoning or maybe some sort of flu. When the cravings came, you started second-guessing. You never gave into them, throwing caps left and right for a slice of some nearly impossible-to-get delicacy was unthinkable, you had to survive and there was no room for luxury.
You failed to spot the rugged ghoul as he left his seat and crept closer, spurred by your awkward demeanor, until he was kneeling right next to you and silently sharing the sight of the green graph.
“What in the hell…”
You recoiled at his words, at his realization, and tried to cover the Pip-boy with your hand and hide the thunderous revelation of your condition.
He was having none of it.
He smacked your hand away and gripped your forearm so tight you shuddered, bringing it closer to his eyes as his face contorted.
“What the fuck does this mean?” he spits and looks at you with something vile in those whiskey-colored eyes you loved so much.
“I don’t – ” you swallow thickly, crumbling under his gaze and snuffing out the need to rip away from him and run. You meet his stare for a split second before turning away. “ – I haven’t…Not with anyone except you.”
Lightning strikes into his core and he pulls away like bitten by a snake.
“The hell you mean you haven’t fucked anyone ‘cept me?” he stands, intimidating and cold, berating you with just his visage and nothing more. “How the fuck did you get pregnant then?”
“I’ve been with you since the day I left the vault, you know this.” you reach out for him, desperate for some sort of comfort, desperate for him to calm down because you couldn’t mentally take on both him and the news. “Cooper, please.”
He shoots you down with a snarl and a spine-chilling glare.
“Don’t fucken’ touch me.”
He’s pacing, trotting around like a cornered animal, the spurs on his boots clinking, a sickening cacophony that roots you in place and keeps your mouth shut. You don’t know what to say, you’re not a liar, yet you wish this was some twisted joke and you could laugh it off and confirm it wasn’t real.
A hand is rubbing vigorously at his chin as he tries to think, but there’s nothing in his head except that one single word that means so much and makes absolutely no sense.
He knew you weren’t lying, he’d always kept you within arm’s length, there was no way for you to even sneak past him without being noticed.
It still hurt though, the image of you leaving because he was a rotten man who’d struck gold by finding you. He was no good for you, never would be, and it tore him to shreds because he knew all of this and still he kept you by his side and cocked his gun at anyone who tried to step too close.
Why wouldn’t you bed another man when he looked like a walking corpse and acted even worse? Why wouldn’t you ditch him to be with a nice bartender and a good-mannered farmboy who would treat you like a lady should be treated?
Why wouldn’t you cheat him out of the only happiness he had?
“Is not fucking possible, sweetheart.” he finally speaks, faltering at your audible sobs. The idea of you slipping past his fingers to sleep with someone else is pushed to the side by the absolutely pathetic sight of you curled up on the floor and crying.
Ghouls were sterile, all of them, 100%, there was no way for him to knock you up even if he wanted to. But the Pip-boy said otherwise and now he was left questioning the very foundation of his existence.
“I know that.” you sputter through choppy hiccups. “But you’re the only man I’ve been with...It doesn’t make fucking sense.” you clutch at your sides, waterfalls streaming down your cheeks and pooling under your chin, eyes distant and jittery. “What if it’s deformed because of the radiation? Or if it’s not even alive? Or – What am I supposed to do…”
His body moves despite his protests.
He kneels in front of you, encasing you between his thighs, his fingers twitching and rising as he drowns in the long-forgotten feeling of being presented with such news. His hands are shaking and he rests them over your shoulders and pretends he can’t feel his pulse rampaging in his throat.
“What do you wanna do?”
It’s such a simple question, but coming from him under such a premise makes your head spin and your heart stop.
“I – ” you press your forehead against the center of his collarbones, arms protectively curling over your belly because despite not showing there was someone in there. Someone precious. “ – I don’t know…I’d like to – I don’t know.”
You stop and start, cutting off words that you weren’t ready to tell him yet and he wasn’t ready to hear either. But life didn’t care if you were ready or not, things happened, consent or not, and now you were both stuck in a mess you’d unwittingly made all by yourselves. There was always the easy route – find a settlement, get to the doc, have it removed, done deal, easy peasy.
But did you really want that?
It wasn’t just your kid, it was his too and him not saying a word, not even mentioning discarding it made things so much harder.
No, he gave you a choice, he put everything in your hands and he was holding you while you fought a silent battle that would dictate the entirety of your future.
“I think – ”
“ – I ain’t goin’ fucken’ nowhere.” he slices through your hesitation like butter, body rigid and jaw clenched because for once he was trying to be a man and not a monster.
Maybe even a father.
You shatter in his arms like glass and he presses one of his palms against the back of your head while the other circles your waist and brings you closer.
“You’d stay?” you ask with such horror and disbelief that it clutches at his chest and he struggles to breathe. You’re no coward, despite how heavy the air feels, you look up at him and you’re so vulnerable and angelic that he forgets every setback that would come his way. “If I kept it…you’d stay?”
He can’t answer, the words refuse to form, but he holds your gaze with calm stability, a good masquerade to hide a mind that was racing and a heart that was pounding so heavily he felt his entire body pulsing. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead in a voiceless promise.
You suck in a breath like it’s your first and cling to the collar of his coat, disappearing in his form, hiding from the world that was so cruel yet gifted you with something so precious.
The Pip-boy is still lit and waiting, the scan bright and piercing. You skim over it absentmindedly, a simple curious flick, then look again and squint your eyes at the tiny text printed under your pregnancy announcement.
“Four months.”
You’d only been out of cryo for three…
He followed your wide-eyed stare, he was no fool, he could do basic math.
You’d been pregnant before meeting him, before leaving the vault, before the bombs.
You want to puke. You want to rip your skin off and bury yourself alive because for the love of God it couldn’t be just perfect, there had to be some sick underlying thing to ruin everything. It wasn’t his, he was right, ghouls couldn’t have children.
It wasn’t his child.
You look disgusted and utterly pained because the realization makes you mourn at the idea of carrying his baby. You wanted to, you’d give anything for it to be his and not some random bloke you couldn’t even remember the face of. You wanted it to be his…
You search his face for anger or disappointment or anything that would prepare you for what was to come. Why would he stay if the damn thing wasn’t even his? He had his own problems, his mission. You were just an obstacle that had nearly made him believe he was going to be a father and maybe it was his second chance at doing it right.
There was nothing though.
He simply blinked at you, lips parted as he formed a sentence that had you pledge yourself to him for as long as you stood and breathed.
“That don’t change a damn thing.”
Tag list: @bountydroid @v3lv3tf0x @silverose365
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hazbinsimp777 · 1 day
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Hey
Can i please fanfic (Hazbin Hotel) Adam x fem reader x Lucifer
the reader is in a relationship with Adam, lucifer is intrigued by the reader and starts flirting with him
how does Adam react when witnessing this scene (Lucifer flirts and accosts the reader but the reader is not interested in him)
❗the reader does not know about Adam's connections with his previous wives (due to his pride, please use it)❗
LUCIFER X READER X ADAM
A/n: I love this concept so much! Thank you for the request anon! <3
✅️ Loyalty ✅️Protective and Violent Adam ✅️A little spice (end) ✅️ Fluff
!Warning: Reader is read as female and LONG before the battle in the season finale!
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You are Adam's third and final wife, he had met you when you two had met in heaven. You only had died recently, having a good life on earth and genuinely being a good person. At first, you were very hesitant of Adam when he had asked you out. Seeing him only with his fuck boy personality, how he proudly bragged about how many people he has hooked up with.
Despite being in heaven and being the first man.
Nevertheless, your colleagues at your job had encouraged you to do so. As to being known for rejecting suitors who had asked you out. With much hesitation, you had accepted his offer. You recall being very nervous on your first date.
Soon you came to realize, under all of that masculinity, he was a total sweetheart to you. Behind closed doors of course, he started to become more trusting towards you. Coming to the conclusion on his true intentions, eventually, the two of you started dating. Which had lead to you having an wedding ring on your finger.
At that moment, Adam had given you the title of, "My sexy as fuck wife." Sure, you were never too keen on that title and Adam going around and announcing so. But you knew that only met Adam was proud to call you his. People had informed you of his past marriages, which lead to many questions in your mind.
Why hadn't he told you about these past relationships? As his new wife this puzzled you, was he not supposed to tell you everything? When confronting your husband about this, he suddenly had a change in attitude.
"Oh it's not important babe! I got you now and that's all I need!"
Noticing he obviously did not want to talk about his past, you had left the topic alone. Wanting to be a good wife, you promised to never ask about it again.
That is, until Lucifer questioned for an meeting with heaven regarding the growing population of hell. As one of heaven's biggest leaders, Adam was required to go. He tried to convince Sera to not go, but his request came denied. Adam was complaining to you all day when he was forced to go. You, for some support, asked Adam if you can, by any chance, accompany him to this meeting.
In your shared home, while Adam was bitching about this, you approached him, taking off his mask, cupping his face, "Maybe I can come with you. I know how much you dislike Lucifer, I can perhaps be your support or source of comfort."
Adam's eyes widened, his lips turned from a frown to an smirk, "Babe...." He started, picking you up, placing you on the counter, "You are a fucking genius! This could be my chance so show him my sexy ass wife!" He said, placing himself between your thighs.
You placed your finger on his lips, "Or...you can call me your beautiful and intelligent wife."
He rolled his eyes, "Yes Hot Stuff you are that too." At that it was decided, you are going to be at Adam's side of the meeting.
At the day of the meeting, you and Adam were called to meet in Heaven's meeting room, where as you can guess, the meeting will be held. For an odd reason, you were nervous, finding yourself fidgeting with your fingers. Sitting beside Adam, who he himself looks uneasy, it was quite obvious, even with his mask on.
"Babe?" Adam called you, turning his head towards you.
"Yes Adam?" You asked, turning your chair to the right, facing him.
He sighed deeply, "Stay beside me, whatever you do, do not leave my side." He warned.
This request confused you, "Why so?"
Adam groaned, "Just don't leave my fucking side okay!" His voice was firm and assertive. Not aggressive, but to the point it got his point across with you.
"Okay Adam." You said, turning your chair back toward the table. Continuing to fidget with your fingers. It only took a short moment until the door swinging open rung throughout the room.
Standing in the middle, Lucifer you assumed. The short man had a white top hat, a snake and apple wrapped around it and an cane with an apple on the top of it. Wearing long black boots, red eyes and blonde hair going back. You had to admit, he wasn't anything you would expect, very much shorter than you had pictured him. And he had no nose?
Nonetheless, Adam's grip on your hand had tightened, wrapping around your hand. Noticing this, you squeeze his hand, as an act of reassurance. Giving him a nod and smile. Looking down, you seen a small smirk appear on his face, his masked eyes softened.
The other angels had not arrived yet, you Adam and Lucifer being early for the meeting. Which meant, you all three were alone for the time being.
"Ah! Adam! We meet again." Lucifer walked up to Adam, swinging his cane in hand as his boots tapped against the floor.
"Lucifer, meet my hot wife right here, she is sexy, did I say she was my wife?" Adam bragged, showing you off to Lucifer.
Which was not out of character for Adam, but this was....a bit much from Adam. Why was he so determined to show you off to a man you hand't even met until now? Regardless, you weren't complaining, you loved it when Adam showed you off.
Lucifer's eyes scanned you, looking up and down, as if analyzing you. In which he hummed, putting both of his hands on his cane, "She is a looker I'll give you that." The short man smirked, taking a seat across from you. Adam was suprised that Lucifer had not mentioned Adam's past wives.
Something that was unknown to you or Adam, is that Lucifer was intrigued with you on first sight. Taking in your attractiveness, when he had seen Adam's arm around you, he instantly knew you were his new wife. But that did not bothered him whatsoever. Adam was giving Lucifer the most dirtiest glares known to man, occasionally glancing at him while he was talking to you.
In a matter of what seemed like hours, the other higher ranked Angels have arrived. Taking their seats, annoying the meeting had begun. During the whole meeting, Lucifer kept darting his eyes at you. You felt his sharp gaze on you, making you uncomfortable, not wanting to make this meeting worse for your husband, you brushed off the feeling.
The meeting had taken two hours, you and Adam were on the verge of falling asleep due to all of the boredom. You didn't even know what they were discussing, Adam didn't even say anything, what was the whole point of him coming in the first place? This truly did irritate you!
"Adam, a word please?" Sera called Adam, standing from her seat to the door. A serious expression written on her face.
Your husband looked at you with pleading eyes, then back at Sera, "Can we just talk later Sera? I need to stay with my fucking hot wife." He tried sounding normal, but his voice kept cracking.
"No. This will not be negotiated." Sera commanded.
You got up and gave Adam a kiss on the cheek on his mask, to give him more confidence. "I will be fine Adam, I promise, go do what you need to." You assured him.
Adam groaned, "M'kay Sweet Cheeks, be right back." After that statement, he went on his way, walking beside Sera. Turning to look at you occasionally before the doors had closed.
Now, it was just you and Lucifer in the meeting room, it did not help that he was seated right in front of you across the table. With a hum, Lucifer pulled his chair, walking around the table towards you. You felt your blood go cold, eyes widening, why was he walking towards you? Surely you are no interest to the sin of pride, right?
A tap of his cane hit the ground echoed the room, being the only source of sound.
"Tell me Dear, why are you with Adam?" He leaned on the table, putting a finger on your chin.
With pure disgust, you gently take his finger off of your chin, "I love him very much and because we are married." You told him, "And I see you are as well." You point at his own wedding ring.
Lucifer simply brushed this off like a spec of dust on his coat, "Oh that is not important gorgeous." He leaned on the table with his arm, "You do know Adam's history with his wives right?"
"Not much at all and I do not intend to know more." You said firmly, tapping your finger against the table.
"As it is known knowledge is power Beautiful, and I know you must be smart as you are divine." Lucifer held your hand, giving it a gentle kiss.
"Ew! As I have said before I am a taken woman!" You slip your hand away from his grasp.
"What the fuck is this?!" Adam exclaimed, staring at everything in disbelief. Rushing to your side, using his wing to pull you closer to him, staring at Lucifer with pure fury and hatred.
"What? Me and your supposed wife were just having a conversation between adults." Lucifer said.
"Listen here you nose less fuck! Stay away from my wife, you know what? Get the fuck out of here, NOW!" Adam commanded, pointing to the door.
"Why? Afraid I might take this one too?" Lucifer teased, both of his hands rest on his cane as he gave Adam a smirk.
Your eyes widened, "Adam, what is he talking about?" You ask.
Adam's face went tense, his masked eyes widening, "N-nothing hot stuff, I uh- don't know what he is talking about." He stuttered, not even looking at you.
"Too prideful to tell her-" Lucifer got cut off by Adam punching him, Lucifer was not able to defend himself in heaven. Due to his abilities being taken away from heaven.
This action from your husband has taken you by surprise. There have been times when Adam had been jealous, he would simply tell them off, maybe a punch or two. And you two will be off your way.
But this was different.
This was fill with many emotions. Ones with pure jealousy, rage and fear.
Every punch he gave Lucifer was personal, Adam was laughing like an maniac, "Your in MY house BITCH!" He kept saying with every punch. You had to get Sera and other higher ranked Angels involved.
With being dragged away from the sin of pride, Adam kept lying, "You get the fuck away from MY WIFE YOU SLITHERY FUCK!" After that, Sera demanded Lucifer to return to Hell. While you were right next to Adam once he had calmed down.
You were compressing his wings, which always calmed him down when you did it. He had his arms crossed and a cute mad expression on his mask, grumbling curse words under his breath.
"Do you mind telling me what was that about?" You asked softly, but in a gentle but demanding tone.
"Fuck..." Adam cursed under his breath. Looking down at you, "Do you really have to know?"
You only nodded, "As your wife, I want to know. Not out of curiosity, but because I want to know you better. So I have a better understanding of you. Just know I will love you no matter what." You assured him, putting your forehead against his.
"I am so lucky to marry you...." Adam started, then that is when you two shared a kiss. You felt Adam smile against your lips. He told you everything about Lucifer and his past wives. In which you comforted him and assured him, Lucifer would never steal you away from him. Or any other man for that matter.
"You know, you standing up to Lucifer was kind of hot and sexy as fuck Babe." Adam whispered in your ear, "Makes me want to fuck a baby in you." Adam said, gripping your ass.
"And wholesome moment ruined." You muttered.
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
A/N: I hope this was up to your standards Anon! Request are open, terms in pinned post!
Drink water and Stay Healthy Lovlies! <3
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jameszmaguire · 8 months
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I think it would be better for everyone if I were to be left alone in the future. Don't you?
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httpsclarye · 7 months
Text
#GOOD LOKING+!
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Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.
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Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word count: 3k
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.
Ao3: Good Looking
English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!
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You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.
Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.
Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.
“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.
Barechested. Topless. Half naked.
“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”
You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.
“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”
"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.
“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”
“I could not sleep”
“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”
“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”
You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.
You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?
“Are you and Luffy close then?”
The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.
“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”
“I remember that. You were so naive”
Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…
“Not anymore.”
He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.
“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.
You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.
He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.
“What dear? See something you lik-”
You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.
“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”
He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.
You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.
His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.
“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”
You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.
”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”
He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.
You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.
You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.
“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”
You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.
His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.
"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”
You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.
“My love, you are so perfec-“
A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.
 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.
He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.
You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.
“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.
He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.
Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?
You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.
“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”
It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.
“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”
You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.
He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.
He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.
He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.
"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”
You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.
“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“
He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.
In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.
He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.
“Sanji, p-please more”
"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”
“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.
It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.
"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”
The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.
“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”
It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.
Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.
He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”
Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.
“Do you think anyone heard?”
“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”
“Next time, huh?
Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.
"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”
"And you should go shirtless more often too.”
"Only for you, my love.”
You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.
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© HTTPSCLARYE, 2023
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hellisharchive · 25 days
Note
Hiii!!! I was wondering if you can do headcanons of what kinky/perv stuff that hazbin men (alastor, Lucifer, husk, Adam, val, etc) often do?
Plus I love your Adam fics!/headcanons
Have good day :3
・﹒・ perversions of the soul
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Warnings: 18+, sexual scenarios, sexual comments
Pairings: [Separate] Lucifer, Adam, Val, Vox, and Saint Peter [Yall know I couldn't NOT include him, right?]
Notes: Hi, thank you for requesting! Because I don't write for Husk or Alastor won't include them, but I'll include the others! It's purely because I don't know how to write them in this way! I hope that's ok! :D
﹒Lucifer﹒
・He is a thighs man, he will stare at your thighs for hours if you let him. You've caught him so many times looking at your thighs and every time you lightly slap him on the shoulder because you know all he's thinking about is shoving his face in between them.
・He loves to whisper dirty nothings into your ear to make you flustered in public, he lives for your reactions and red face as you try to remain calm. Just seeing your reactions and you slowly growing horny is enough to make him hard alone.
・While that man can fuck good- he revels in giving oral sex to you whenever he can. He loves eating you out and sucking on you until you're cumming over and over again. He thinks you taste absolutely delicious and can't get enough of you. He's cum-drunk in all sense of the word.
﹒Adam﹒
・This man isn't as kinky as you would originally think- but still explores sexually occasionally. However, if you got boobs, he will never get enough of them, and will motorboat them even if Lute is around. If you got a dick, best be ready for random crotch feel-ups at any given moment. If you don't have either/or- he will grab and pinch your ass and even smack it until its red.
・He is big into you moaning, really big into it. It gets him off so easily, one little moan and he's at full mast. His main goal in bed is making you moan as loud as possible and when you do- well, expect to be getting a creampie.
・Loves fangirls/fanguys and if you love him in his band before even personally knowing him, one stop to being given a...private show. He lives to see you get excited for his band and looking down at you from his stage, gives him the biggest serotonin rush (and another kind of rush) that slowly builds up over the course of the night as he gets sweaty and out of breath.
・Valentino・
・Let's be real- what kinks doesn't this man have? There's many to chose from, but if I had to pick one- you being weak and powerless under him is one of his favorites. Watching you be completely at his disposal for any reason is a big yes to him.
・Degredation is another one, oh boy, he loves making you feel like shit at any chance possible. He will tell you that you're a whore, a dirty slut, only good for being fucked by him and him alone.
・He is possesive to the upmost degree and always makes sure to leave his marks all over you so others know that you are his. He always makes sure to parade you around the tower with you by his side so everyone knows not to fuck with you- messing with you or trying to fuck you.
・Semi-public sex is his go-to when he needs a quickie, he loves fucking you in spaces where anyone can walk in and see you two going at it. He doesn't care who sees his body, he thinks it's hot as fuck and makes him even harder inside you if he hears someone walking by.
﹒Vox﹒
・Biggest perv imaginable. Will watch you fuck yourself silly with toys even if he's just a room away. He never stops watching you, and I mean never. He always has to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don't fuck anyone else like Val or some ramdon schmuck off the street.
・Just like Val- he is extremely possessive of what's his and makes it known. He doesn't display it publicly with you around as to not scare you off, but he makes sure every single person in the tower knows not to even touch you.
・He loves getting his dick sucked above everything else, he loves the feeling of your pretty little lips wrapped around his cock swallowing all his cum down your throat. He loves to see you cry as you try to fit it all down, enjoys wiping them away and telling you that you're doing a good job.
﹒Saint Peter﹒
・That man is as innocent as can be what kinks could be possibly have? Well, he has a dirty little secret- one day he discovered that he got hard seeing you with ice cream all over your mouth and imagined it was cum. Naughty I know! Ever since he has not been able to let that thought go and guiltily imagines you sucking on his...
・He always offers you ice cream just to watch you smother it all over your mouth as you eat it and he always acts nervous around you because he oh so badly wants to make his dirty fantasies real. But he can't just avoid you! You always ask why he likes ice cream so much and he simply says that it just tastes good.
・He also would never admit that just you showing attention to him can get him riled up since almost every person that had crossed the gate never payed much attention to him. So when you showed interest in getting to know him and eventually dating him- he was down bad and it makes him act up a little.
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nadvs · 2 months
Text
cam girl (part five)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
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summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.
When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.
Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.
You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.
Rafe: sore?
You reply: as fuck.
Rafe: you loved it
You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.
You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.
You reply: so did you
Your phone buzzes again.
Rafe: send an ass pic
You: are you always horny?
Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard
You: and i’m the needy one… lmao
Rafe: are u sending it or not
You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.
The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.
Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.
Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.
You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.
You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.
But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.
Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.
You text: wish u were here?
Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night
You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…
Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you
You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.
maybe, you reply.
Rafe: you took my cock so good
You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.
You: show me it
Rafe: you’d like that huh
You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it
Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick
You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.
You: what? i can’t tease you too?
Rafe: no
You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it
Rafe: only good girls deserve it
You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that
Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night
He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.
Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.
Rafe: ???
You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening
He only texts your name.
You: rafe :)
A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.
You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.
You: am i allowed to touch myself?
Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.
Rafe: if you promise me something
You: what?
Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight
Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.
The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.
You: i can do that
Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready
You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.
Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.
You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.
You pick up your phone.
You: might have to go back to sleep after that…
Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.
Rafe: order breakfast for yourself
The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?
You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3
Rafe: did u call about the heat yet
You reply: i will
Rafe: do it now
You: bossy
Rafe: now
God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.
It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.
You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.
When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.
The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.
You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.
He joins the session and lust fires through you already.
“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”
figure8: much better
figure8 tipped you $100.
“What’s that for?” you giggle.
figure8: for looking so pretty
“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”
You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.
figure8: goddamn
You smile.
figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second
“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”
figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?
You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.
You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”
figure8: maybe?
“Depends on your mood,” you say.
figure8: the fuck does that mean
“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”
figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol
“Shut up.”
figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night
“I hate you,” you laugh.
figure8: you love me and this dick
figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass
You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.
figure8: fuckkk just like that
“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.
figure8: i wanna see them ripped off
“These were expensive,” you pout.
figure8 tipped you $500.
figure8: there, you can buy more
“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.
figure8: rip them off right now
You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.
You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.
figure8: shake ur ass
You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.
figure8: let me see ur asshole
The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.
You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.
figure8: holy fucking shit
figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass
figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger
You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.
You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.
figure8: is it nice and wet?
“Mhm.”
figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?
You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.
figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it
You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.
figure8: hows it feel?
“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.
“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.
figure8: fuck yes
You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.
When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.
As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.
figure8: u like that?
“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”
You get the reaction you were hoping for.
figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?
“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.
figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?
“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”
figure8 tipped you $1000.
figure8 has left the session.
You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.
You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.
When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.
“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”
“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.
Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.
With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.
You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.
“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.
“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.
Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.
“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.
He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.
“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.
You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.
You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.
Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.
He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.
��Tighter,” you whisper.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.
His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.
“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.
“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”
His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.
“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”
“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.
You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.
Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.
You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.
“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”
The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.
Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.
“Don’t do that,” he instructs.
“My neighbors-“
“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.
“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”
“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.
“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”
“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”
The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.
“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.
You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart in your ear. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.
As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.
“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.
“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.
You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.
Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.
“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”
You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.
He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.
“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.
You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.
“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”
“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”
He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.
“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.
“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”
His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.
The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.
“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”
His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.
Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.
He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.
He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.
“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”
His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.
You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.
“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”
You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?
“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.
He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.
“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.
Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.
Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.
Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.
He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.
“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”
“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.
“Cancel?”
“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean?” you whisper.
He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.
“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.
“They didn’t already fix it?”
“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”
“So, you spend another night cold?”
“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”
You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.
“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”
“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.
You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.
“Hotel?” you repeat.
“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”
“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”
Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.
You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.
You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.
“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.
“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”
You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.
This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?
But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.
You’re not sure what to do.
{ read part six here }
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kiss-inthekitchen · 1 month
Text
same sky | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot
word count: 2k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter
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“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 
“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  
“Is everyone else asleep?”
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”
“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 
“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 
“How come you’re still up?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”
“Looking up at the stars.”
“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”
“Ha ha.”
“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”
“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 
His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”
For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.
“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 
“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.
“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.
“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”
“Sounds good. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”
“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”
“Less murder now.” 
“Yeah.” 
His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 
You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”
“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 
“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”
“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 
“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”
“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”
You laugh. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re right.”
“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”
“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”
“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 
“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 
“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 
“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 
“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 
“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 
“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 
“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 
You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 
“Spence?” 
“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”
“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 
“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 
“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 
“Man, I’m good.” 
“Mmhm.”
“Going to bed?”
“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 
“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 
“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 
“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 
“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 
“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 
Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 
“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 
“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 
You laugh. “For the whole day?” 
“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 
“Okay, rest day all day.” 
“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 
“Maybe the floor.” 
“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 
“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 
“Say no more.” 
You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 
“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 
“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 
“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 
“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”
“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 
“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 
“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 
“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 
“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 
“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 
“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 
You let out a little gremlin laugh. 
“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 
“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 
“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 
“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 
“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 
“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 
“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 
“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 
“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 
“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 
He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 
“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 
“I’m going to hold you to that.” 
The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 
You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 
“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 
You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 
Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 
“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 
“More like three now.”
“We made time go faster.” 
“We did.” 
“Will you try to get some sleep?”
“Fine. Only because you asked.”
You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 
“And I love you.” 
Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 
Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 
You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 
“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 
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bayjaruchel · 6 months
Text
Never Too Much
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Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: There are certain things that your boyfriend really likes to do. (2.2k, mostly cunnilingus | originally posted on ao3) | Masterlist )
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Mike takes his time with you, when he can. 
He likes being able to pace himself. By now, he knows your body very well; every curve and harsh edge, every single little detail. He's traced up your contours with his fingertips and kissed all the way back down again. Even though he's generally not the best at keeping calm, he's a very patient lover when given the chance to be. After your first few— and frantic — times together, he's slowed down considerably. 
However, there are still exceptions to that pattern.
Like when you don't have the time for anything slow; such as the minutes before he has to get ready for work. When you're both still a little groggy, but still need each other. Or when he knows he won't be free for most of the day, and you want to make it up to him. You fumble for each other, a determined clash of hands and lips and warm skin, both desperate to make the other person finish first. The sheets get twisted awkwardly around his legs— the hardwood floor makes your knees sore— but it's completely and utterly worth it. For every time you can't properly make love— in the purest definition of the phrase— there's always going to be a time when you leave each other completely breathless and spent afterward. No matter the technique, he's mastered the art of thoroughly taking you apart. 
There is one specific thing that Mike just can't be patient with, though. 
"Shit—" 
He's always been eager to eat you out. 
No matter the time or place. It could be during one of those brief periods, or during the long hours of the night where you have all the time in the world. He just can't wait. And he isn't waiting right now, even redoubling his efforts when you tighten your grip in his hair. His head bobs, slightly, as he drags his tongue through your gathering wetness, up towards the aching apex of your pleasure. 
A gasp is punched from your lungs when Mike closes his lips around your clit and sucks, for just a moment, before returning to your cunt. He shifts forward to get even deeper than before, lapping at you in broad strokes, equally calculated and clumsy. His enthusiasm is palpable, as usual. The sounds he's making— almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then that send pleasant vibrations through you— they fill the air, easily overpowering everything else. His eyelashes flutter now and then, but occasionally he looks up at you, taking you in. You know how you look: nearly as disheveled as him. 
Your thighs twitch as he continues to savor you. Whenever he moves back up to gently flick your clit with his tongue, his breath comes in hot puffs through his nostrils. He always takes a deep inhale before diving back in, totally uncaring towards the way his spit and your slick must be dripping down his chin. He's not afraid to get messy. In fact, you think he likes it— he likes the evidence of your arousal clinging to your stubble, the knowledge of what he does to you. The knowledge of what he can do to you.  "Mike," you gasp again, "oh, fuck. That's— that's so good— " 
His mouth is still occupied, but he hums, muffled into your cunt. The praise has always done something for him. But you don't just say it because he likes it— you say it because you mean it, truly. The fact that you can see his hips shift a little at your words is just an added bonus. He hasn't even attempted to reach down to touch himself yet, even though you know he must be tenting his boxers. Even though you know that by the time you get close, there'll be a wet spot in the fabric.  
"You don't even have to beg for it anymore," you tease, even though you're too breathless for it to really land, "you know I'll let you do this again and again, even if I'm supposed to be doing something else." You're a sucker for him, and he knows it. Biting your lower lip, you use the hand in his curls to tug him closer. He's just like putty in your hands. "Maybe you like to beg a little, huh? Is that right?" 
You decide to take his answering moan as a yes. Mike looks up at you with heavy hazel eyes— pleading, again— wanting to tell you what he wants, but he also doesn't want to stray from his task at hand. Sometimes you wonder what you did to earn this. It's practically worship, at this point. You make a hasty mental note to repay him later, but it's hard to concentrate when he's putting all of his effort into pushing you towards your orgasm. You can feel your muscles tensing, the heat in your abdomen building—   
He's gradually focusing more and more of his attention on your clit now. But he's still dragging his tongue through your cunt, tasting you, collecting what's accumulating there. You jolt when his nose bumps against your sensitive nub, providing much-needed friction in the absence of his tongue. Although you definitely aren't the first person that he's done this to, you know for a fact that you're the person he's done this the most to. How do you know? He's told you himself. 
Cuntdrunk is a good word to describe him. If he could, he'd live between your thighs forever. 
You choke on a whimper. Mike takes in that sound— greedily, needily, he needs more. Scrambling to get a grip on one of your knees, he squeezes it once, pulling it closer to his head. And you understand the signal immediately. You close your thighs around his head, essentially trapping him where he is. Forcing him deeper. His brow furrows, nose pressed against your clit. The first time he wanted you to do this, you were afraid that he'd suffocate; that you'd hurt him. But by now, you're well aware that it won't happen, as long as you're careful not to push him down too much. 
He really likes being pushed like this, though. It empties his head, he says. Yours is pretty empty at the moment, too. You're blissfully absent, hardly tethered to Earth. You only really register the feeling of his hair tickling your thighs and shins, from where you've got them positioned— the pillow underneath your hips— his tongue. The pace he's keeping now is almost feverish— 
— minutes pass, and you're so, so, close. You can feel it, toes curling when he sucks on your clit again. You can't bite back the sounds that you're making anymore, your mouth falling open as your breathing grows more uneven the closer you get. Your thighs tighten an increment, your heart pumping furiously. The sensations are nearly overwhelming, but you can do little except take what he's giving you. "Just like that— mmhn — keep going, that's perfect—" 
You're teetering on the edge for a split second, but what finally pushes you over is another glance downward. Mike is— to put it simply — ruined. 
His hair's all messy from when you'd been tugging at it earlier, his cheeks a brilliant red. Almost the entire lower half of his face proudly displays the confirmation of what he's been doing this entire time. If his eyes weren't shut, you know they would be hazy, glazed-over— you haven't even touched him yet, disregarding a few kisses— and he's already fucked-out. All because of you. 
"Mike!" You squirm, eyes squeezing shut, "Mike, I'm—" 
He groans into your pussy when you cum, eagerly licking up all the remnants of your orgasm. The coil unwinds in waves, which crash through your lower body. 
He works at you until the abrupt heat in your gut fades away, replaced by a relaxed warmth, and you start shuddering with oversensitivity. 
You could let him continue— he'd keep going for as long as he possibly could. He'd make you cum as many times as humanly possible if you let him. However, you release his head from between your thighs instead, letting your legs slip down to lay on his shoulders. As soon as he's free, he starts taking deep lungfuls of air, catching his breath. Just like you. Which is sort of ironic, since he was the one doing all the work. 
He rests his cheek on your inner thigh, leaving a wet smear there. You can't really bring yourself to care, though. 
Mike looks at you, still bleary-eyed. 
" 'S good?" He asks, hoarsely. 
You know you're not done with him yet. 
"Yeah." Fondly, you smile down at him. He easily returns it. When you scooch back to sit up against the headboard, he instinctively shuffles forward to fill the newly created space. Your eyes flick downward when he goes to sit up, too, finally exposing his lap— 
"Uh." Mike clears his throat. 
"Could you … " He trails off, but you doubt it's entirely because of embarrassment. 
"I was already planning on it," you reply lightly, already going to place one hand on the back of his neck to tug him closer. He goes, and positions himself so he's hovering over you; spreading his knees just so, he's still looking at you reverently. 
"That's good," he breathes. 
"You want me to suck you off or something?" The suggestion is extremely casual, like always. But his breath still audibly hitches, and he swallows.  
"... You want me to blow in five seconds?" 
Snorting, you thumb over his cheek. He leans into your touch, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "I'm serious," he insists, voice low. "It'd be really terrible. You don't want that, right?" 
"I don't know." You shrug as best you can. "It's kind of hot, knowing that you got that worked up from just eating me out." 
He contemplates this for a second. 
"Fair enough." 
But then, he drops his tone and murmurs, "I still don't want it to end that quickly." 
"You don't?" 
"I don't." 
You let out a long, dramatic sigh, and pretend to ignore the snicker it elicits from him. 
"But I was looking forward to returning the favor." 
It's Mike's turn to shrug. "Plenty of other opportunities for that later, y'know." 
Admitting defeat is the worst thing ever. 
"I guess you're right," you concede. "Fine." 
"I guess I'm— " he starts to mimic under his breath, but the rest of his words are expelled in a single whoosh when you squeeze him through his boxers. "— fuck." 
A crease forms between his eyebrows again as you continue to feel him out. You were right. Near where his tip was resting, you can feel a small, slightly damp spot. It's enough to make you throb, once— no matter how many times this happens, you'll never get used to this. Your patience is quickly failing, like his.
"You were saying?" You ask innocently, while hooking your fingers in his waistband. 
Mike quickly shifts from his previous snark, right back to need. 
"I was— I was saying—" His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, "— how much I need you to touch me right now. " The last part of his sentence is barely a whisper. "Please."   
And there it is, you want to quip, but you think you've done enough for now. His boxers come off easily, and you unceremoniously wrap your hand around his cock. That's enough to make him shudder, a small noise escaping his parted lips. There's no need for build-up anymore, so you just start pumping him. He quakes, and then leans in, nudging your nose with his. Wordlessly asking permission. 
You can still taste a little of yourself on his tongue when you kiss him, leisurely. You drink in what was previously muffled by your cunt. He twitches in your palm, lips pliant and tender against yours, but still a discernible force. A comfortable presence, sharing the same breaths as you. He kisses you again and again until he has to draw back for air. 
Mike breathes your name, high-pitched and trembling, as warmth shoots into your hand a few minutes later. 
"That's it," you murmur, coaxing the rest of it out of him, "that's it. There you go." 
You both just lay there for a couple of long moments. It feels like raw electricity wherever your bare skin is touching his. It's like a current, of sorts. He's still shaking, faintly, either from the exertion or the fact that he's most likely still a little oxygen-deprived. It's probably a nice mix of both. But when that subsides, you both reluctantly roll off the bed, clumsily plodding to the bathroom to get cleaned up. 
The tile is cool underneath your bare feet. He stands nice and still as you clean your dried cum off his face. You stay nice and still while he cleans you up, too.
When you're throwing the used towel in the laundry bin, he speaks up. Now that the residual heat has faded, you can feel goosebumps starting to prickle across your skin. 
"I love you," he says. 
You are both naked, a little damp, and standing in the bathroom. 
But somehow, it all fits together. It makes sense. 
You turn to face him. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, and his hands automatically land on your hips. Mike watches you, obvious worry glimmering in his eyes. He's unsure if that was the right thing to say. 
Then: 
"I love you," you conclude. 
The tension all but melts from his shoulders. 
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
Note
So I've seen a couple of Demon twin prompts that have Danny and Damien knowing and keeping in touch with each other over the years with the Batfam none the wiser (The funniest being that Damien had Danny go and replace him for a week then the two played it off like it had been happening since Damien was brought to the manor. Another good one had Danny quickly dropping off Ellie with Damien leaving him to introduce Bruce to his granddaughter). How would this play out for you? Would Danny have run with Damien faking killing him, would he have just disappeared from the compound (?) One day?
Their mother had given birth to identical twins. Damien was born three whole minutes before Danny, which shouldn't have mattered much but to the Ra's it meant the world of difference.
Ra's did not want to raise more than one hire. He did not believe in spares or succession struggles. He gave Talia the ultimatum,- pick one twin to raise in their ways and give the other up to a civilian family or lose them both and her status.
Talia will never claim to be an angel. She knew that her heart was cold and wrenched as needed to cleanse the world. She was far too selfish to even consider becoming a civilian away from the league.
It wasn't a bad life, in the end, to become a regular civilian but it was not for her. Ra's had many children who were never deemed worthy of being part of his greater plans. He never mistreated them, but ultimately he ignored them and they grew up not knowing the blood that ran through their veins.
Talia herself knew of six siblings- all different ages and races- that she had seen from a distance. Her father would take her sometimes to see them, to be reminded that unlike them, she was destined for greatness.
They were nicknamed as the Lost by one of Father's past heirs. He had died fifty years before Talia's time but he was known for his surprisingly humorous outlook on life. How Ra could stand it, she will never know.
Sometimes Talia pitted her Lost siblings. They would be outlived by their father- as all of his children thus far have been- but they would never know the waste their lives had become. They would never know the glory of battle, the rush of leading an army, or the satisfaction of successful missions.
They lived in a rose-colored world inside a small fish bowl. Her Lost siblings would never know the vast wonder of the world.
Sometimes Talia envied her Lost siblings. Even though they had no real impact on the world, no real importance, they lived peaceful lives. They grew, made friends, and fell in love without fear of being betrayed. A foolish belief but one that seemed almost blissful.
How light would their shoulders be to not have to carry the weight that Talia has known all her life? Weight to be the best, to be the killer her father required, to allow her son to head to a possible death day after day.
None of them had to worry about their children never returning from a mission like she did. That's why she trained Damian so harshly, why she pushed and pushed until he reached perfection. If she didn't, then Damian would be bested in the field and his death would shatter what little humanity she still held.
She had taken Danny- her sweet youngest boy- to America to entrust him to her Beloved. It was only as she arrived on American soil did she realized that Bruce would not be satisfied with only one twin.
He would do everything in his power to get them both. Despite the years he trained with them, after learning their ways and their mission, Bruce did not approve of the League.
He was powerful enough to succeed in taking Damian as well if she gave him the chance.
Talia chooses to not do so. She instead stopped at the closest city that was miles and miles away from Bruce Wayne. She found Amity Park, a small sleepy town that would never gather much attention let alone Bruce's, and located a couple struggling for a second child.
After her men screened them and after making sure that they were harmless despite their eccentric research into ghosts, she gave the Fentons her Danny in adoption.
When she signed the adoption forms, Danny offically became a Lost sibling. She flew home, and held Damian just a tad bit tighter and longer, allowing only a few tears to fall before shutting away her heart.
She visited him through the years, but never within sight. Danny was unaware of her presence, as he stumbled his way with his life. He was unpopular with his peers, uncoordinated in basically everything, and the idea of him harming anything was laughable.
He had too much of his Father's heart but none of his will.
Talia made the right choose in getting him out. He would not have survived long within her lifestyle.
When her sons turned six, Talia had chosen to take Damian to see his Lost brother. She had two motives for doing so. The first was to show Damian what became of those deemed unworthy. To let him see that he had been given the honor of being the twin to inherit all that the Al Ghuls could offer.
The second was so that Damian could see his brother still lived, even as worthless and meaningless as he did so, he was still alive. He would know nothing of their world but he would still be able to walk through a different one.
She hoped but never voiced that he would find comfort in this and maybe even affection for her foolish Lost brother.
_________________________________________________________
What she was not aware of, was that Damian Al Ghul was just as selfish as she was. Once he saw what he deemed as his there was little in this world that would stop him from owning it.
He believed he was entitled to having a connection with his blood brother so underneath Talia's and the League of Assassins' noses, Damian did just that. He officially introduced himself to Danny when he was eight and told him the truth about their heritage.
Danny welcomed him with open arms. Despite being polar opposites in personality the identical twins were the best of friends. Damian always looked forward to seeing his brother for a short visit whenever the opportunity arose.
Danny was always pleased to host him for a weekend and the Fentons were more than happy to have him over. They may not have been able to adopt Damian but he was just as much their son as Danny was.
Damian just wishes he could return the gesture but if he ever had the Fentons over at Nanda Parbat they would all be dead within the first thirty minutes.
It was best to go to Danny.
Then Damian went to live with Father. It was a rough adjustment and he is not proud of his less-than-optimal reaction to Father's adoptive siblings seeing as the Fentons had proved blood is not required to love a child. It took months of getting used to living there before he was comfortable enough to go visit Danny again.
They spoke every night on the phone, however, since he no longer had to worry about traitorous warriors reporting his contact with a Lost sibling. He told Danny everything about the Waynes, just as Danny told him everything about being Phantom.
They just forgot to tell any of the Waynes about him.
Damian offered to have him over now that he knew Father would never harm his brother, and that the other Wayne children wouldn't kill him either. Danny, ever the most mischievous of the two, had a better idea.
"We could prank the family instead." Danny chirps floating above his bed, headphones in his ear as tries to play videogames upside down. He grins at the screen where Damian stares back at him.
Facetiming Danny can be a bit difficult when his brother has a hard time sitting still.
Damian wasn't strong enough to say no to him.
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"Master Bruce" Alfred didn't shout exactly but it was a near darn thing that had everyone in the cave tensing up. They all turned to an older man who was nervously gesturing to a screen. "We seem to have a guest"
They gather around the older man, watching as a teenage boy wearing baggy oversized sleepwear rampages through the kitchen in an ill-fated attempt to make...a sandwitch?
"How did he get in?" Bruce demands at once watching the boy pour himself a large cup of milk. His face was turned away so they couldn't see him clearly but-
"What are you all babbling about? That's not a guest." Damian scoffs after pushing his way to the front of the computers. He waves a hand at the stranger and it is conveniently at that exact moment that he turns around gulping down his milk.
It's an exact replica of his youngest. What in the world?
"Demon Brat" Jason starts slowly, hand reaching for his gun. Bruce would be angry by that, except he's not exactly sure that his son is standing with them now "Who is that?
"Obviously it's Daniel."
"Who?" Dick asks
Here Damian actually pauses looking around at everyone in as close to alarm as Bruce has ever seen him. "Daniel. My brother. Do you all not remember him?"
"Master Damian, this is the first time I have heard of your brother," Alfred stressed, the tone just a tad bit off from being upset. Damian's eyes widen behind his mask suddenly looking rather small.
He stares at the butler like he has never seen him properly nodding his head to the Batcomputer. "Check for yourself."
"I'll do it." Tim offers strolling over. With Babs on vacation with her father, he is the best with computers. He will know if something has been altered. A few clicks on the keyboard was the only sound within the cave as everyone stood around in unease.
A quick hiss between his teeth has Tim announcing. "Demon Brat isn't lying."
There on the multiple screens is proof that for the past four years- since Damian came to live with them- there was Danny. The brother with a medical condition that made being a Bat impossible.
Tim even had a personal folder- one he made but couldn't remember making based on his wonderous expression- titled "Angel Brat". Apparently, he and Danny got on like a house on fire. At least according to the files.
"Are you all quite sure you have no recollection of Daniel?" Damian questioned. His stance is protective, tense in a way Bruce has come to know as his son being nervous.
None of this makes sense. The last time Damian was this nervous was the last large Justice Leauge mission when all hands were on deck to fix the timeline-
Oh No.
"Damian, on the last rank 10 mission of the league you were the only one on the Watchtower when Flash shifted us back. Even Alfred was commanding a tank that day." He states waiting until his son nods in agreement. Around him, everyone was equally tense likely realizing the same thing.
"I was not alone Father. Daniel was with me. I couldn't possibly control all those stations alone."
Of course.
"Damian, I'm afraid the last mission erased Daniel from our timeline. I do not remember him."
His son's eyes practically bug out of his head. He swings around in small circles looking towards the rest of the family. His jaw clenched at their blank expressions.
None of them remembered Daniel either.
"We must inform Daniel at once-"
"No!" Dick shouts, cutting him off. There was a slump in his shoulders as he spoke much less sharply now. "If we do that, there is a chance that Time will try to force his existence out. It could.... erase Daniel completely."
"So what? We just pretend to know the kid? Lie to him?" Steph scoffs,
"Yeah as much as it sucks. I've worked with Bart long enough to know that there is a real danger in telling Daniel the truth." Tim sighs running his hands over his face.
"That's fucking great." Jason sneers, kicking a chair. Duke's hands are curled into tight fists, while Cass is looking at Damian with a sad frown.
Damian sneers at them, fleeing into the showers. Cass is one step behind him. Likely for the best, his eldest daughter has always been the best one to confine into. If anyone can get Damian talking about his feelings without being too pushy, it's her.
Alfred remains silent but his posture is stiff and straight. He is equally as displeased as his more explosive children. Not that Bruce couldn't blame him.
His heart has already shattered a dozen times over once Daniel's files have been brought up. He has forgotten his son. Has lost him in a way as close to death.
He flickers through them with the family. Everyone wants to remember as much as possible. There is so much. Daniel has a heart condition that has him attached to a heart pump, his consistently cold and is rarely strong enough to wander too far away from the manor.
In fact, he seems to collapse a lot like his legs just become intangible. Talia isn't aware he is still alive- Damian broke the rules to get him out of the league before his plan execution due to his condition.
Despite all of this, Danny had the biggest heart out of them. He seemed to be the kind of person with an easy smile, and happy pun waiting. He is so gentle that Tim's nickname "Angel Brat" is not just a mirror of Damian's
And Bruce forgot him.
To make matters worse the cave's elevator dings on, and down it comes Daniel himself. He looks exhausted, likely not used to being up so late but he smiles at them all warmly anyway
"Hey guys! Welcome home!" He greets. He rushes forward, hugging everyone with ease that not even Dick has been able to do. His movements are done so naturally that this must be how he greets them every night.
Everyone lets him and he doesn't seem surprised by the fact they return the hugs.
Bruce feels like vomiting as his youngest- Damian is older- smiles up at him. "Welcome home Dad! Love you."
"I..." His words catch in his throat. Daniel tilts his head confused but Bruce pushes through wrapping his arms around him just as tightly. "I love you too son."
"Tell the others you love them too" Daniel whispers in his ear. "Don't forget that they need to be shown through words and gestures too Dad!"
Bruce stiffens, unsure if he should but he doesn't have enough information to deny Daniel anything. If he suspects something is wrong he may zap himself out of existence. He can't let that happen.
He pulls back from Daniel after a moment, and then without giving the others warning, he reaches for the child closest to him. Jason yelps as he is dragged into Bruce's warm embrace. "I love you, Jason."
"Ugh what?" Jason sounds confused from above him- when did his little boy get so tall?- but he wraps his arms around him too, giving the beaming Daniel a quick glance before he mutters. "Love you too old man."
Bruce turns to Dick who is practically bouncing on his heels, arms held out. He steps into them easily, grunting as Dick squeezes him with all his might. "I love you, Dick"
"I love you too!"
Tim is staring with wide longing eyes over Dick's shoulder and Bruce knows he will have to hug him next. Behind him, Daniel has moved to embrace both Jason and Steph, which triggered a group-wide personal hug.
Even Alfred is there affording hugs and I love yous.
It's.....nice.
_____________________________________________________________
None of the Bats are good enough to read the body launage as Cass is. She saw the mischievous glee her new brother was hiding as he went around hugging everyone.
Damian taps her wrist. "Will you keep quiet of Daniel's harmless jest?"
She smiles. "Funny. They think they can't say no to him. "
"Oh, Dad! Now that you're back can I paint your nails?" Daniel asks loudly. "I have the best black nail polish!"
"....I suppose that is fine."
Damian cracks a smile. "My brother is a menace."
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qvrcll · 5 months
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nsfw, fem reader, possession + biting
when coriolanus snow latches onto you, everything tends to burn. his fingers, his nails, his teeth, his lips - they all have a tendency for a craving when they’re near you.
and when he fucks, he fucks like its not beneath him. he fucks like a reverent and a lunatic, clutching at your sides like you’ll disappear on him like a fog and leave him behind like he has feared all along. claiming skin that he feels is his.
one night, in particular, he’s especially needy: hot all over, hands roaming the expanse of your back and pushing your body tightly against his. if he gave you time to recover from the melt of his kisses, you’d have recognised his heart for your own - thudding like something violent in his chest, able to be felt even with layers of clothing on. but he breathes you in like an tonic he has never felt before. in need of more, always.
“needy much?” you croak, feeling his rough hands catch against your throat as he grasps your cheeks. he intends to pull so you impossibly close to him, that the two of you might melt as one. how romantic.
he hisses when you bite his lip, take it between your stubborn canines and stay, “always. you - ah - know that.”
and it progresses into something bigger - his hands on your hips, nose nudging into your neck. he gets enthusiastic, gets riled up in places which are his forte - when this happens, it’s always his fingers that stretch you out first. one, two, and when you cry out loud, he’s staring at you with something ugly in his eyes.
possession. filthy, and wholly his. his eyes almost shift.
“poor, weeping little cunt is all mine, isn’t it?” he taunts you, voice against your breast as he takes your nipple to his teeth. the friction is lovely, delicious in a way, and you can’t blame the guttural moan that leaves you, or him, when you arch into his body. still, there’s no answer from you, “it’s mine. tell me, i need to hear it. that it’s mine.”
his fingers curl inside of you, the flex of them so nasty and painfully good that you never mean to squeal, but do anyways. he smiles at this. smiles at any twitch, any chance of your body betraying logic and following feeling, and he begins to slow his pace to filter that feeling as punishment.
and when you register this, you panic. your eyes are blown wide, quivering already when he hasn’t even given you a real fuck - “yours - yours! it’s yours, coryo. all - ugh - all… yours.”
his fingers flex, tighten.
“all mine? you sure?”
you can see him against your chest, eyes like that of a snake. glaring and wanting, poison in the air as he takes from you like a dog.
“yours, all yours - coryo, please!”
“shh. i know - that’s all i wanted to hear,” he smiles then, his fingers picking up an addicting pace, “i know, baby, i know… see, feels better doesn’t it?”
you nod, fervent and hot, in need of release. what impending release he has waiting for you. what utter cruelness he puts into his thrusts, his strokes. coriolanus is of much character, and still, he looms above. possesses you fully, like a thing for taking. you can barely see it now, but his eyes go dark with the lust of it.
and when he is fully sheathed inside, after much patience, he’s delirious. much more than before. you know this, he knows this, because his hips snap against yours so much more cruelly, faster and harder than anything else he’s given you in this room.
“coryo - oh god,” you cry, circling your legs against his hips, and the proximity it brings makes the two of you mewl against one another. when he thrusts again, its fire taking a lick at fire, and with filthiness forming inside of him, he takes to something more deranged. misplaced.
“you belong to me.”
you nod, hazy. not understanding to the best of your capabilities.
“you understand, don’t you? you’re smart, aren’t you? - ah,” he moans, and where he doesn’t, he bites the soft flesh of your neck until it grows tender with pain, “this,”
he picks a disgusting pace on your clit, fingers slipping,
“is all mine.”
the force of your orgasm isn’t superficial. it’s wrenched out from the deepest parts of you. when you lose consciousness, coriolanus slaps two fingers against your cheeks, chuckling when you blink back up blearily.
perhaps, so blearily that you don’t properly make out the sight of him popping two silver-stained fingers in his mouth, your spent too sweet for him to give up so easily. how delicious you taste, he marvels, the thought of it being all his more thrilling than for just one round.
(requests for snow / tbosas are open!)
© 2023 qvrcll. do not repost any of my works on any platform.
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bhaalble · 7 months
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I like that Last Unicorn quote as much as the next guy but I do always wind up feeling a little detached from analysis that paints Astarion's disapproval as purely envy. Partly because. No one's doing this for Lae'zel for instance even though she has similar disapproval and similar trauma (all she can remember is a hostile physically and emotionally exploitative environment which expected perfect strength and obedience from her or else she would be punished or killed). But also partly because it feels pretty detached from everything he actually has to say about it.
The thing about Astarion is he loathes weakness. He loathes sentiment and he loathes dependence. You can see this when he actually opens his mouth up about the people he disapproves of saving, but also incredibly loudly when he talks about the other companions, as well as his fellow spawn. If Lae'zel submits to Vlaakith he talks scornfully about how some people just come to love their chains. He's confused and put off if Wyll submits to Mizora to save his father. In every conversation with his fellow spawn (at least when hes not actively manipulating them) he's dismissive and harsh, and clearly he's perfectly willing to sacrifice them for the sake of himself.
There's an obvious origin point of those feelings, of course. Cazador's abuse is designed to actively kill off empathy in his spawn, both towards each other and towards victims. The last time Astarion prioritized someone over his own skin he got locked in a tomb for a year. We can see glimpses of it with the other spawn too, how his siblings are (apparently uncompelled at first) willing to drag Astarion back to their master for their freedom, how Petras' first dream of freedom is getting to drain another person dry. Astarion certainly doesn't seem to feel any real sense of solidarity with them, likely because Cazador understands that them building a community is a threat to his authority the way it was to his own master.
I'd also argue its Astarion projecting his own self-loathing outwards. So much of his quest is about his desperate attempt to escape from who he was. He's been given a chance to slip free of the limitations of being a spawn. He clings to that because of course he would. He also instinctively begins to run over everything in his path, because if there's anything he has learned over the past 200 years its that good things can always be taken away unless you make sure to remove any and all possible threats to that scrap of well-being. He's disdainful of people in need of help because they represent who he fears to go back to being! He calls his siblings "poor fools" while refusing to confront the fact that had it not been for the tadpole he would be in exactly their position, forced to cling to the hope that Cazador is telling the truth for once because escape isn't an option either way. He becomes irritated when Tav slows down to help the unfortunate because they represent roadblocks on his own path to safety.
There's an idea in mental health stolen from airplane safety: that you shouldn't help anyone else until your own mask is secure. What they don't tell you, speaking from personal experience at least, is that PTSD, especially for long term trauma, has a way of making you feel like your own mask will never be secure. And while that's scary, and it sucks, and there should be the utmost patience for it: no one is going to realize that mask is secure for you. Eventually you are going to have to accept the fact that you are breathing just fine. Eventually you are also going to have to accept that people asking something of you isn't them endangering you, even if it can sometimes (often) feel like it. It doesn't make you obligated to help them. But it does mean you have to stop reacting to them like a threat, because not 5 minutes ago that was you.
I think the idea that he's only mad because he's jealous is a gratifying fantasy. He didnt feel safe before, but now through your PC and the power of love he'll feel warm and cozy enough to forgive you for not being there to begin with. But I also think Astarion cannot live in a reality where he's never pushed back on. His instinctive self-protective movements are a coping mechanism, yes, but coping mechanisms developed under survival conditions can also be a way of keeping you frozen in your trauma. Outside of the environment they were necessary for, they can even hinder you from growing in the ways you need to grow to move past what happened to you. Sometimes, you need to stop a baby tiefling from getting crazy murdered by a snake because it turns out. That can happen to anybody not just people who are weak and stupid and deserve to die anyways not like me I'm normal-
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i23kazu · 5 months
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♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU
characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
xiao
he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?
diluc
possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.
kaeya
the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.
childe
he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.
wriothesley
wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).
lyney
the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.
alhaitham
alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)
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baby-dr1ver · 6 months
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max and his size kink
warnings: physical descriptions of someone small, semi smut
a/n: as a bigger girl I feel there isn't enough representation for us when it comes to size kinks so, I'll be doing another one of these.
Just thunk a thought about Max
A size kink to him isn’t just that he’s taller than you. No no no no. it’s that he’s literally bigger than you. He’s so broad and compared to your tiny frame. He’s got those huge arms that wrap around your neck when he’s got you on your tummy. Your chin lay on his elbow as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “Taking me so good baby, my little baby.” 
Or when he has you against the wall, pounding in you with everything he has and you just can’t keep up with him. Your legs begging to give out but Max will scoop you up against his big strong hips that you can feel flex with every sharp movement he makes. He’d cradle your face in just one of his hands and forces you to keep your eyes on him. Oh he’d squish your cheeks so your lips puckered and spit right in-
Speaking of hands, Max loves to see the comparison of your hands. He’d line them up and see how much wider his palm was compared to yours, or how much longer his fingers were. So much so that he’d force you to your knees to get him off. Loves seeing your small hands around his thick cock, how you’d have to use two hands because your one couldn’t around it all the way. 
Max loves to shove his fingers in your mouth at any given chance. Sometimes he’ll just cup your face gently, just admiring you for a second to let your head get fuzzy and then oh! Look at that, he’s two fingers deep in your throat and your taking it like the goodest girl. And he’s smiling at you with those big lips that are just so good to bite on, making you melt into a god damn puddle of arousal, and could make you do anything. 
Or oh fuck those thighs. Jesus christ he could take out anyone with those things. They’re like pythons ready to attack. He knows this, of course he does, and he’s so fucking cocky about it. When your watching him getting interviewed, he’ll keep his legs spread open to get you worked up. Reminding you of all the times he had you between his thighs, or on top of them. He could spot that look of lust for him a mile away knowing he’d have you riding his big thighs for hours until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. 
Or maybe, and hear me out…just sitting there between them. Like when he’s sitting on the couch and suddenly everything is just fuzzy. He’d been doting on you all day and you just have the urge to sit between his legs and lay your head on his thigh. He’d love to see the look of adoration on your face as you just, watched him. Max would also love when he’d be on sim and you’d somehow find a way to sit between his thighs. Theres very little room to begin with but somehow you manage. 
Max just loves how much bigger he his than you.
kinktober <3
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vashtijoy · 30 days
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have you seen the commentary from the p5r artbook going around? the shuake part of my dash is losing it a bit at the implication that their wishes were mutual!!! that seems to be what some people are getting from the commentary at least… amy insights?
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Hi! I have been through the artbook. It's great, isn't it? :D
The image above is called "One Ending", and the creator caption (by illustrator Akane Kabayashi) reads:
When I think about how Akechi's wish was to play chess after school with the protagonist, I almost want to call him out with "You liked him after all, didn't you!"
Look at that. We're told about Akechi's wish, and what it included. We're as good as told outright that he likes Joker—and this isn't the only time, there's also this:
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—There are a whole lot of things we can imagine, based on how the protagonist was depicted as someone special to Akechi. Those are more or less the exact emotions represented during Akechi's confidant. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)
"someone special" here is 特別な存在 tokubetsuna sonzai—literally "a special presence". It means a special person, and more than that; it describes someone you find compelling, someone you can't look away from, someone who becomes one of your most important people, the centre of your world. It's another term that is often romantic, but isn't necessarily romantic.
(In the same way, I think Kabayashi's suki jan! is more tongue-in-cheek than it is a cast-iron confirmation that Akechi was canonly in love with Joker. The language there is teasing, it's ambiguous, it's baity; Kabayashi is joking. This is a rank 6—as they say, if you know, you know. But it is of course ultimately up to all of you.)
There's another mention of this image, down in the creator interview:
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Out of all the Maruki ending illustrations, it was Akechi's that stuck with me the most. It made such an impression to see them opening up as friends, having a fun, peaceful time together like high school students should. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)
What really strikes me in all of this is the emphasis the creators put on the fact that this is Akechi's illustration, Akechi's wish. Because I've thought for a while that we know Akechi has a wish. You can see him struggling with his refusals to Maruki in the first week of January. And you can hear his wish spoken—when Maruki repeats it back to him, during the boss fight, on 2/3:
Maruki {F1 81}君たちとなら、君も過ちのない道を歩めるかも知れないじゃないか! {F1 81}-kun-tachi to nara, kimi mo ayamachi no nai michi o ayumeru kamoshirenai ja nai ka! If you're with {F1 81}―kun and his friends, you could begin to atone for what you've done! Think about it! With [Amamiya]-kun and his friends beside you, you could choose a path with no mistakes as well!
So this wish has several parts. First, there's that kimi mo, "you also"; it's tempting to read this as Maruki also wanting his new world to erase his past mistakes. Second, there's the first part, "if you're with [Amamiya]-kun and his friends". Where to even start here?
Being with Joker and the others is a prerequisite for the second half of Akechi's wish. It doesn't just coexist, it enables the rest of it. Just like his words in the engine room, "I wonder why we couldn't have met a few years earlier, [Ren]..."
Remember, Akechi's whole arc is about his rejection of trust and friendship, and his insistence on doing everything himself. This is precisely what Futaba calls him out on—"you trusted no one", or "you played life in single-player mode". This is what he unlearns at the climax of the engine room, when he realises he isn't prepared to let the others die—and follows through to save them.
Akechi is nothing without others, and he knows it. Without their support, which he believes he has no right to, he has no hope of living a better life, even were he to be given the chance—and he knows that, too. He has learned, and he has grown—and yet he knows the things he needs and wants so badly are forever inaccessible.
And his wish is about all the Phantom Thieves, not just Joker. There are many tiny references to this end—not least the original Japanese rank 10 line for his confidant, where he sacrifices himself for all of you. Joker is his compelling presence, his someone special, but he's formed small bonds with the others too, God help him.
and then there's the crime thing
The localisation frames Akechi's wish in terms of atonement, but that's not what's on offer. You cannot, after all, atone for things you never did. We see Akechi's wish put into practice, in the Maruki ending, where he appears with his friends beside him, wholly innocent and with unstained hands. And we see it in the first week of January, after he has finally met Maruki and spoken to him:
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Akechi: Ah, that reminds me—there was one more thing I wanted to tell you. Akechi: About the reality Maruki's put us in... Akechi: It seems that Okumura and Wakaba are both considered alive by all accounts. [Ren: They're not dead anymore? / What do you mean?] Akechi: They aren't mere illusions, or cognitive beings—they truly are alive and existing in this world. Akechi: In fact, their deaths seem to have never taken place at all in this reality. [Ren: What happened to Shido?] Akechi: Shido was the only one arrested on the crime of attempting to overthrow the government... Akechi: It seems the Phantom Thieves were causing a stir in this society as well, but there's no record of your arrest now. Akechi: Basically, in this reality, you and I haven't committed any crimes.
While Akechi still remembers his crimes, they never took place. They have been undone, and only his lingering memory—and Joker's, at this point—speaks to them. He objects to this on countless levels, he summons all the strength he has to refuse it, but don't make the mistake of thinking that means he doesn't want it. This is Akechi's wish in action.
People are often very certain that Akechi's resolve in the third semester is like iron—that he rejects Maruki's offers right away, is never tempted, never wavers. But that can't be true. We know he's afraid to die. We know about the bad end where you don't complete the Palace, where Akechi says nothing and stares at the floor, seemingly blaming himself internally while all the others blame themselves aloud, for being unable to say no to Maruki's temptations. We know how he responds to this assertion of Maruki's—Maruki, who has perfectly summed up what we know all the other PTs wanted, and who (even if Word of God hadn't just confirmed Akechi's wish) we have, honestly, no reason to doubt.
Because Akechi never refutes this wish that Maruki describes. He never says he doesn't want it. He just rejects it—like all the others, who so desperately want what Maruki could give them. Futaba's mother, Haru's father. Akechi's life, and his innocence. And the people who might have been his friends, if he could dare, one day, to ask.
Akechi is tested just like the others, and the price he pays for his defiance is perhaps the highest of all.
and finally
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[The Maruki ending illustrations are] of Maruki's world, where everyone's wishes are granted and they seem happy. The scene shows their actualised wishes, which were never granted in the real world. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)
We shouldn't forget the price Akechi pays for his impossible wish. Sure, the vision of himself being altered like Sumire clearly haunts him, and I'm sure it made the choice easier—but I don't think it made it that easy. Instead of taking the dream Maruki offered him, Akechi chose to face up to what he'd done, and who he'd become; at the very end, in the third semester and in the engine room, he always makes the right choice.
And that choice was taken away from him. Agency over his life and death, his own acts, and who he would even be—Joker and Maruki take it all away from him and make him a puppet, just like Shido.
Maruki's ending isn't pretty.
revision history
Click here for the latest version.
v1.0 (2024/03/29)—first published.
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