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#and i can’t help but smile whenever i remember
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the girl next door 10
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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The next day, you awake, feeling less foggy but no less tired. Your mother is still in her recliner as you emerge. You put on the coffee as you always do and sit at the table, holding your head as you wait for the grind to finish.
You pour two mugs and go to the living room. You put one down next to your mom and gently nudge her shoulder. Her eyes snap open and her head wobbles before she can lift it. Her hand is trembling as she wipes her eyes and the recliner snaps upright with her movement. She doesn’t say a word as she grabs the cup and drinks.
You both drink in silence, as if you’re both just as confused by the previous day’s passing. The remnants of the heavy slip have you yawning over the brim and eager to brew a second pot. As you refill the filter, the doorbell rings. You mom grumbles noisily.
You hit the start button on the machine and hurry down the hall. As you open the door to Steve, a flash of yesterday washes over you. The memory of him in your room, looking at your sketchbook, intruding...
You shake off the chagrin and clear your sandy throat.
“Morning,” he checks his watch, “not to rush you or anything but just checking in. Seeing when you were planning to pop over.”
You blink. What does he mean? It takes you a moment to remember. Oh, you remember you agreed to help him with the pool. Well, your mother told him you would.
“Is that Steve?” Your mom calls as the recliner creaks. You step aside as she approaches, “ah, hello. Just can’t get enough, huh?”
“Mm, yeah, Holly, remember, we talked about this. The pool?” He smiles and tucks his hands in his pockets.
“Oh yeah, I remember,” she chuckles as she glances over at you, “she needs something to keep her busy. How about I come over, keep an eye on her for you.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” Steve says, “you look tired and you’ve been doing so much these last few days. I wouldn’t want to make anything worse.”
“Oh, this,” she holds up her shaky hand, “all good, honey. Really. I can handle it. Just a part of life. Besides, I need to get some sun, eh?”
“Sure,” Steve agrees as his cheeks tighten, “that’s fine. Well, whenever you’re ready. I’m just getting started now.”
“We’ll be over shortly,” your mother affirms and pets her neck.
Steve nods and turns, striding away without another word. You look at your mom. You really don’t want to go. Still, you can’t say no. She’d never let you live it down. You need the money.
“I’m going to get changed,” you mutter. “Do you want some toast before we go over?”
“I can take care of myself,” she snips and swings the door shut. “I want you on your best behaviour, got it? You’re not going to ruin this for me. Whatever he tells you to do, do it. No faces, just listen.”
“Yes, mom.”
“And...” she leans in your door as you open your dresser, “if me and him happen to wander off, don’t come looking.”
You nod. She huffs and her footsteps carry on into the kitchen. You cross the room and close the door. You turn and peel off your tee shirt. You freeze as you notice the open curtains. You squint as you see a shadow in the window across from yours.
You hold the tee shirt to your chest and rush forward. Nothing. Just the window. You close yours and back up. You’ll wear some leggings you can get dirty and the Gap shirt with the hole near the hem. You’ll just be scrubbing algae or whatever.
🏠
You follow your mom up to Steve’s front door. She knocks and waits, hemming and hawing as she checks her watch. You twiddle your fingers, longing for any excuse to go home.
“Hey,” Steve appears around the side of the house, “just around through the gate.”
“Oh, silly me,” your mother as good as elbows past you as she redirects course.
You trail after her as Steve holds open the gate door, standing just inside it. You brush against him as you enter, unable to avoid it. He shuts it so the clasp clicks and you feel him behind you.
“Figure we’ll start by just sweeping up and getting everything away from the pool,” he explains, then we might have to get down and dirty.” He chuckles and you glance over your shoulder at him. He points to the in-ground pools, “gotta clean inside.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Sounds like a lot of work,” your mom remarks, “mmph, I’m just gonna sit.” She grips her hip as she clings to the railing and climbs up onto the deck. She sits at the patio table, under the broad umbrella.
“Right,” Steve claps his hands, “I’ll get you a broom. You start over there, I’ll take the other side and we’ll meet in the middle. How about that?”
“Okay,” you shrug.
He smiles and turns, striding over to the shed and dipping inside. He’s almost too tall for the small doorway. Your mother clears her throat and you look at her, a sharp expression tensing her features. She doesn’t need to speak her thoughts; it’s a warning.
Steve hands you a broom and a pan. You take it and go to the opposite end of the pool. You keep your head down as you start sweeping, gathering the debris into a single pile. You can hear Steve’s bristles scraping closer and closer as you make your way around the perimeter.
“Oh, Steve, honey,” your mom calls out, “could I trouble you for something to drink?”
He stops, only a few feet from you. Sweat dampens the collar of his tee and across his chest. Your own shirt is clinging to your skin as the sun beat down.
“Heh, yeah, it’s pretty hot. How about some lemonade?” He suggests, “hey, sweetie, you want a glass?”
“Um, okay, thanks,” you answer as you put your focus back to the work at hand.
He carries his broom with him and sets it against the railing of the steps. He climbs them and goes through the sliding glass doors. You continue around, adding your dirt pile to his. Your mom wipes her brow as she basks in the shade, fanning herself dramatically.
Steve comes back out with a tray. A pitcher and three glasses sit on it. He pours each as you stand by the debris.
“Come on, have some, should cool off a bit, stay hydrated,” he waves you over.
“Uh,” you look down at the pile.
“I’ll take care of that, you take a break.”
You circle the pool and climb up the steps. You mother struggles to steady her glass as you take your own. As you sip, Steve heads back down and gathers up the debris into a compost bag. He sets that aside and dusts his hands off.
“When you’re ready, I’ll help you down,” he offers as he lowers himself down the ladder.
You nod and gulp down half the glass, setting it down heavily. You mother squints at you, “don’t be lazy.”
You turn away without retort. All you’ve done is what Steve asked.
You go to the ladder and look down into the empty pool. You turn and grab the sides of the ladder, taking it step by step. The clearance is a bit too high for you. Steve approaches you as you hover above the drop.
“Here,” he grabs your hips, “I got you.”
You squeak as he squeezes and you cling to the ladder until you have to let go. He lifts you easily and sets you down, his hands brushing up your sides as he releases you. You quickly part from him, feeling the warmth of his body clouding around you.
“Right, so we just need to scours the sides a bit,” he bends and grabs the end of the hose dangling over the edge. “Got it on the highest setting so if you just want to go around and get the walls. I’m gonna work at scraping off the gross stuff.”
“Kay,” you take the hose from him.
“No cheap shots, okay,” he grins, “well, I don’t think I’d complain for a bit of water.”
You frown at him, not sure what he means. He looks pointed at the hose as you point the nozzle right at him. You drop it and apologise.
“Not worries. Just pull the lever,” he instructs. “And let me know if you need anything. It’s a good day for heat stroke.”
You turn and aim the hose. You spray the wall and much of the grime washes away easily. You get closer, a bit of splash back speckling your arms. You focus on getting every inch, moving diligently along the tile. It’s a big pool. He’ll have a great summer once it’s full.
You feel a grimness in your chest. It feels like all the nice things are meant for everyone else. You shrug it away and keep at it. At least, you’ll get a couple of bucks out of doing the grunt work. It’s no summertime oasis, but it’s better than nothing.
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starryevermore · 2 days
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the house of snow (17) ✧ coriolanus snow
the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 
chapter summary: finally, you enjoy your honeymoon. 
word count: 1,417
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: another short chapter im so sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, sexual references, implied smut, pet name (petal), not proofread
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Light streamed in through the window as the sun began to rise. Coryo’s pale blonde hair almost seemed to glow. You reached up, brushing a strand away from his face. He looked so soft like this. He looked a lot softer generally now. Could this be the almighty honeymoon phase of a relationship blinding you to his flaws? No, you mused. Coryo had always been different around you. Before, you thought it was out of distaste, but now you knew the truth. 
You ran your thumb over the swell of his cheek. This was nice. You understood why Coryo always liked to touch you. There was something so sweet about it. Something so intimate, knowing that no one else will ever touch him like this. A smile tugged at your lips. You scooted closer, kissing him softly. You couldn’t help it. 
“Now who’s accosting who?” Coryo teased, his eyes still shut.
You pressed another kiss to his lips. “What? I can’t kiss my husband?”
Coryo’s hands settled on your waist. He rolled over onto his back, pulling you over so you laid on top of him. “If you promise to wake me up like this every morning, you can kiss me whenever you like.”
“Deal,” you giggled. 
Finally, Coryo opened his eyes. He reached up, tucking a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. He smiled up at you, his pale blue eyes twinkling. “What are you doing awake so early? The point of a honeymoon is to relax.”
“I was admiring my husband. Is that not also the point of a honeymoon?”
Coryo pulled you down for another kiss. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You held back a giggle as you remembered where else that tongue had been—how your Coryo spent the entire night between your legs until you begged for mercy. Coryo’s fingers carded through your hair, tugging you closer. Your nose bumped against his. This time, you did giggle. 
“You think my kissing technique is funny?” Coryo chided. His tone was playful, though. A far cry from the boy you thought you knew on the schoolyard. 
“I think I am lucky to have such a loving man for a husband.”
“Don’t try to distract me. You laughed as I kissed you,” he said. You leaned in to kiss him, but this time he let out a sarcastic laugh as your lips touched his. “Doesn’t feel very good, does it, petal?”
“You are a spiteful man, Mr. Snow. You don’t even know why I laughed.”
“Tell me then.”
You pet Coryo’s hair, a soft smile on your lips. It was a stark contrast to the wetness you felt between your legs as you recalled the memory of last night. “I was thinking of where else that filthy tongue of yours has been.”
Coryo’s eyes fell shut. You felt him stiffen against your thigh. Your smile turned to a smirk. “Oh, petal, you can’t say things like that first thing in the morning. I’ll never be able to continue my day like this.”
“Hmm, but we’re on our honeymoon, aren’t we? What else do we have to do but enjoy each other?” you reminded.
His eyes snapped open. A low hum reverberated in his chest. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Your smirk grew. You shifted off of him, slipping out of his hands. Your feet hit the floor. As you moved toward the door, “In that case, I’m going to ask if breakfast can be made. Do you have any requests?”
Coryo let out a growl. He followed you of the bed, trying to grab your hips and pull you back against him. “My little petal has some thorns of her own, hm? I think you know what I want for breakfast.”
“No, no, I don’t want to kill my husband. Not after I’ve decided to like him, you know.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m thinking pancakes.”
You slipped out of his hands again, giggling to yourself as you made a beeline for the door, shutting it behind you. In the distance, you heard Coryo fumble with the door before his footsteps echoed down the hall. You picked up your pace, nearly making it to the kitchen when you felt a pair of hands grab you from behind. A squeal escaped your lips.
Coryo’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Now, I’ll let you tell the staff to make breakfast,” he growled, “but as soon as we’re finished, I’m dragging you back to our room and finishing you off as dessert. Am I understood?”
“Is that a threat, Mr. Snow?”
His teeth nipped at your earlobe. “It’s a promise, Mrs. Snow.”
And he kept it. 
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“How many children do you want?” you asked Coryo as he dragged a rag between your legs, cleaning up the mess the two of you made. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as his brows pinched together. 
“Does it matter what I wish? You’ll be the one giving birth.”
You rolled your eyes. “Of course it matters. A marriage is a partnership. We should discuss these sorts of things.”
A sigh escaped his lips. He stepped away, taking the rag to the bathroom. You were left alone for a minute before he returned. Coryo climbed into the bed. He settled on his back and pulled you into his arms. “One, I think. I would like to give you the experience of motherhood, if you so wish it. But I don’t think I can handle seeing you in that sort of position more than once.”
“That sort of position? What are you—oh.”
It was easy to forget about his mother. Even though you knew this was the cottage where she had him and was going to have his sister, the very same cottage she lost her life in, it was easy to forget. One part of the Coriolanus that you once knew that remained true for your Coryo was that he kept his true, most vulnerable, parts to himself. In a lot of ways, he’d exposed those parts to you. But there were still things that you still hadn’t been exposed to. This was one of them, you supposed. 
“I don’t know what I would do with myself if I lost you,” Coryo said. When you tilted your head up to look at him, his eyes were shut. If he hadn’t just been speaking, you might have thought him asleep. “Burn all of Panem to the ground, I suppose.”
“You don’t mean that, Coryo.”
“None of this matters if I don’t have you by my side,” he said. His grip on you tightened. “When I was younger, I had always dreamed of being King. My Grandma’am and Tigris were always so sure I would one day sit on the throne. We would talk about all of the glorious things I would do. How I would honor Panem. But these few years I have sat on the throne…While it was what I expected, it didn’t bring me satisfaction, joy, like I thought it might.”
His eyes opened again. A smile tugged at his lips. “I didn’t feel joy until the first time I got to dance with you, my petal. And now that I have it, I’m afraid I must be selfish with it. I won’t do anything that would risk your health and safety. And to bear a child…That is the one danger I cannot completely control. Should anything go wrong, I cannot do a thing. I have to place my trust in the physician to ensure your safety. I don’t like having to trust others. Besides you, of course.”
“Coryo…”
“One child would suffice to carry on the Snow legacy. Any more and I fear I might keel over with the anxiety.”
You rolled over so that you half-laid on his chest. Reaching up, you carded your fingers through his hair. “Thank you for telling me that.”
He huffed a small laugh. “Well, you told me your anxieties. I thought it was only right that I told you mine.”
“And I think I would be happy with just one child, too,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “But I am in no rush to have any now. I was just curious.”
“How I love that curious mind of yours.”
A part of you, one that you were still trying to familiarize yourself with, nearly said that you loved him too.
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ludicdoll · 2 days
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hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO
𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑
farleigh start ☆
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pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader
contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic
synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.
a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭
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there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.
your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.
you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.
you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.
he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.
“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.
“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.
“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.
you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.
“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.
“hmm?”
“no one’s talking to me anymore.”
“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”
“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”
you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.
you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.
“please?”
you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.
you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.
you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.
“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.
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© please do not publish my work on other sites.
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athenagranted · 3 days
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idk if you're still writing the post-cemetry scene fic with pining eddie (idk if i'm describing it right) but i would love to hear more about it/see a snippet or too if you feel so inclined 👀
someone asking about angsty pining fic in the month of our lord april 2024? this was such a lovely surprise 😭 i'm gonna be honest with u anon i'm likely not going to publish 911 fic again BUT because you asked so nicely i'll give you a few older snippets from my draft:
Eddie sighs, breaking the stare. “You have a key, you know,” he says finally. “Feel free to come join me whenever you want.” He turns on his heel and walks back inside to finish his goddamn brownies, leaving Buck standing in the doorway.  It’s silent for a few minutes. He’s in the middle of measuring a tablespoon of espresso powder when Buck steps into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him. Eddie feels the weight of Buck’s gaze on him as he folds the powder into his brownie mixture, but he doesn’t turn to meet his eye until Buck speaks.  “Is that…” Buck falters. He clears his throat. “Is that my recipe?”  “Yeah,” Eddie says gruffly. “Chris asked me to make it. Said he wanted to share it with his friends when they come over tomorrow for their playdate.”  Buck snorts. “Man, you can’t call it that. Chris nearly bit my head off last time I tried. Kept reminding me that ‘playdates are for kids, Buck,’ and that he’s not a kid anymore.”  Buck emphasizes that last bit with air quotes, and Eddie can’t help but grin at that. But his smile fades instantly, remembering the somber look on Buck’s face when he’d opened the door. He highly doubts that Buck came over just to commiserate about the trials and tribulations of watching Christopher grow up.  Eddie bites the bullet. “Why are you here, Buck?”  Buck shifts nervously. He shrugs and looks away from Eddie. “I — I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to answer that. You’ve never asked me that before.”  Eddie scrubs at his face. “I've never had to ask you that, Buck. Things are different now. You’ve been busy.” 
+
“Wow,” Buck says acidly, all traces of heartbreak gone. “I’ve never heard that one before.”  Eddie frowns. “What?”  “Really, Eddie?” Buck’s voice cracks on the last syllable. He shakes his head. “Unbelievable. Just — unbelievable.” “Buck — what are you talking about?”  “We were just trying to protect you, Evan," Buck mocks. "You were never supposed to find out. We kept it from you because we love you. Any of that sound familiar to you?” Eddie’s breath hitches on the word love, because he doesn’t know, he can’t know, but then —  Oh.  Fuck.
+
Buck: We’ll get through this just like everything else. I promise. It’ll be okay.  Buck: Eddie, did you eat enough today? Should I come by and bring you some food? Buck: You know you’re still my best friend, right? That’s never going to change, Eddie. Never.  He reacts with a thumbs up or a tap-back heart on most of the messages, too exhausted to do anything else. He replies with a thumbs down to the message about food, certain that he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Buck so soon. He knows he’ll have to face him in person eventually, but his tired, broken heart just wants to postpone it as much as he can.  The last one, though, is a balm that both soothes and agitates Eddie’s burning, aching heart, and he taps out a brief, Thank you, you too. Always, in response. It feels like too much and not enough all at once, and Eddie wishes once again that he was a little better at resisting Buck, that he didn’t feel that need to reply to his every message lest Buck worry even more about him. The only one he actually acknowledges is a message that comes in at 2:43 AM on Sunday. As he opens the message, Eddie absentmindedly wonders if Buck’s having a hard time falling asleep for the same reason as him. Probably.  It’s a link to a new exhibit at the Griffith Observatory, accompanied by a text that reads: Can I take Christopher here next weekend? Eddie squeezes back tears as he replies with a brief, Of course, and puts his phone down, letting the darkness swallow him again. 
+
Hen beats him to it. “What happened, Buck? I thought you really liked her. Weren’t you planning to introduce her to Maddie and Chimney next week?”  “Not anymore,” Buck mutters. “I broke up with her.”  “What?” Eddie snaps head snaps up. “Why?”  Buck doesn’t meet his gaze, his lip quivering. The rest of their team is watching them, eyes darting back and forth, and Buck blinks hesitantly before swallowing down a sip of coffee. He wipes the cream off of his upper lip and looks Eddie in the eye.  “You know why,” Buck whispers. 
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⋆ 𝓙𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱: 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓗𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓑𝓮𝓮𝓷 ⋆
Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!
Warning: For this story, the Reader is implied to be Fem, but no pronouns are used
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⋆ They say your wedding day should be one of the happiest days of your life. A day where you and the one you love exchange vows, giving yourselves to each other, promising to spend the rest of your lives together. Many people dream of this day, what they would wear, what it would be like. You had dreamed of this day too, picturing yourself walking down the aisle. Now that the day has come, you can’t help the dread you feel, stomach in knots as you finished getting ready.
⋆ You met Jade and Floyd through the Mostro Lounge, having been a regular customer. You were drawn in by the food, the atmosphere, and became close with the staff, particularly Jade. He was always your server whenever you stopped by, having memorized your order by the third visit and your name by the fourth. You found yourself growing fond of the conversations you would have, simple small talk at first that grew to him joining you on his lunch break. Your feelings for Jade became more, leading you to confess to him. You were surprised by his rejection, having thought your feelings were mutual. You didn’t come back to the Lounge for a long time after that, heartbroken and unwilling to see him. When you did come back, Floyd was your server, with Jade nowhere to be found. As you talked and laughed with Floyd you missed Jade standing across the room, staring at you with a sad smile on his face.
⋆ You remember the day you and Floyd got engaged, Jade congratulating you and saying how happy he was for you both.
If you’re happy, then why is there sadness in your eyes?
If you’re happy, then why do your words seem strained, like you forced yourself to say them?
You had to keep reminding yourself that Jade was the one that rejected you, that Jade was the one who didn’t want you.
If you rejected me, then why do you look at me with such longing?
If you didn’t want me, then why do I feel like a regret?
Doubt filled your mind over the years, keeping you up at night and leaving you feeling conflicted. The times when you and Jade would interact were awkward at best, tension in the air with words left unsaid. Floyd would go quiet during these moments, his stare filling you with guilt as you looked away in shame.
How cruel, you thought, feeling like you could cry.
How cruel, you thought, letting your tears fall once you were alone.
⋆ You took a deep breath, your hair and makeup done. As you stared in the mirror Azul entered the room, complimenting you on your appearance and letting you know the ceremony was about to start. As you headed down the hall the dread you felt became worse, feeling nauseous as you came to the doors. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to calm down. Soon the organ began to play, the doors opening as you headed down the aisle.
⋆ Your eyes lit up when you saw Floyd, a small smile gracing your face. That smile fell when you saw Jade standing next to him, his eyes soft as he stared at you lovingly. Though he was smiling, there was a sadness to it, making you look away. You focused on Floyd, your smile coming back as you reached him. You took his hands in yours, the dread you felt now at the back of your mind.
This is what you wanted, this is who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
Yet, as you stood there, waiting to say your I do’s, you look back towards Jade and find that you can’t respond.
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Originally posted: February 13th, 2024
𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡
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gn4bnahc · 1 day
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Do I have a chance? | Part 2
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Pairing: Popular guy!Bangchan x Quiet girl!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Friends to lovers
Part 1
THIS IS JUST FICTION!
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It was lunch time, you were sitting with Changbin, both of you see Chan getting lunch, “What’s up with you and Chan? You guys have been hanging out a lot lately and he mostly talks about you whenever we are together”, Changbin says while raising his eyebrow, “We’re just friends what do you mean?”, you say trying to avoid eye contact with him, “Really hm? I see him smiling often while he’s on his phone and when I look at who he’s texting, it’s you…”, Changbin says looking at you suspiciously, “Well I guess Im a really funny person”, you say while looking everywhere, but his eyes, “Pfft you are not a funny person, I don’t remember laughing while talking to you”, Changbin says while rolling his eyes, “Oh really? Why did the chicken cross the road?”, you say making an attempt to make him laugh, “Why?”, Changbin says, already cringing even though you haven’t finished the joke yet, “Because there was kfc on the other side!”, you say smiling awkwardly, “Oh… umm… that was… no comment…”, Changbin says while forming a fake smile, “i’ll go now… you and Chan definitely are a thing and you are something…”, Changbin says while walking away, Chan approaches you, sitting beside you. “What were you guys talk about?”, Chan says while smiling widely at you and taking a bite of his food, “Oh that… it was nothing… haha…”, you say while smiling weirdly at him, “Ok, you guys were definitely talking about something weird”, Chan says as he chuckled. Few minutes passed and you looked like a tomato, so red from blushing, and you were a laughing mess, Chan looks at you and can’t help but admire you, the way you laughed, the way your smile lights up the whole place. You both stare at eachother and it was silent, you accidentally drop your spoon, you both look down to pick it up, both of your head bump with eachother, both of you chuckled, “You alright?”, Chan says while smiling sweetly at you, caressing your head, both of you looked at eachother again, Chan stared at your eyes and at your beautiful face, all he wanted to do right now was to kiss you. Then, Chan said “Y/n can I court you?”, “What… Chan, don’t be ridiculous”, you say while lauging awkwardly, “Y/n, ever since I saw you, you were the only one that I think about 24/7, I wonder if you like this and that, I wonder what it would be like having you in my arms, hugging and cuddling with you, I wonder what it would be like to be… yours… Y/n you haunt my mind day and night, so please…”, Chan looks at you with determination in his eyes, “Chan, I mean… why me? theres so much better girls out there… I mean-”, you say while Chan looks at you in disbelief and cuts you off by kissing you on your lips, “But…”, you say while Chan broke off the kiss, “No more buts, I take that as a yes, see you again tomorrow, love you!, Chan says while running away, smiling like an idiot, you feel your cheeks heat up, “There is no way that this isn’t a dream”, you say while still flabbergasted.
The next day, Chan texted you to meet at the back of the bleachers, you go there and see him holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a 2 packs of dried mangoes (if you don’t like mangoes well you do now), “I know you really like these” Chan says while smiling cutely at you, you take the flowers and he grabs your hand to sit with him on the bleachers, “I know you don’t really like catching people’s attention, so I took you here instead, let’s eat these together”, he says while placing a kiss on your cheek, “And who told you, you can kiss me on the cheek? hm?”, you say, teasing him, “Oh you don’t want kisses on the cheek? Ok, ill just kiss you on the lips then”, Chan doesn’t let you respond and he suddenly holds your waist and pecks on your lips multiple times, “Chan! stop it”, you say while blushing, “Chan, you do know that you’re still courting me, I can’t just let you kiss me”, you say shyly, “Oh but you let me kiss you at the cafeteria yesterday though”, Chan says in a teasing tone, “Hey!… I did not let you kiss me, you just suddenly kissed me out of nowhere”, you say, acting sassy, “Yeah sure… whatever you say”, he says rolling his eyes while smiling, you pout and shove 3 pieces of dried mangoes in his mouth to make him shut up, Chan chuckled at your cuteness. When class was over, Chan drived you back home, and you placed a kiss on his cheek and opened the door and ran fast, leaving him flabbergasted like you the day he asked to court you.
Everyday, Chan would always give you something, something that made your day. Each day, you see the amount of effort he gives you. One day, while Chan was driving you home after he took you out for dinner, you hold his hand while the traffic lights turned red, he looks at you and smiles at you, “Yes”, you say while he’s confused by what you meant, “What?”, Chan say’s, confused, “it’s a yes Chan, my answer is yes”, you say while smiling widely at him, “Wha… ooooooh… Oh! Really?!?! wait you better be serious right now”, Chan says as the traffic lights turned green, “Baby, did you really have to do that now, Im so happy, I can’t even focus on driving, oh gosh”, Chan says while smiling like an idiot, this was the first time he called you “Baby”.
Few years later
Both of you were happily married, you and Chan are cuddling on the bed, wearing matching pajamas, he plays with your hair while you snuggle on him, “I never thought I would have a chance with you, not until that day you asked me if you can court me”, you say as he kisses your head, sniffing your hair that smelled like your favorite flower.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I cant believe I did this in one night 😭, I tagged some of the people that liked part 1 early.
@nowadays56 @therid-iidae @bethanysnow @itsshy2001 @arloo00 @jenzlovschan @zofiaaa @mjailene15 @jusanontstuff @honeyjake @saaucie @brownriceocean @planetoddinary
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candyheartedchy · 1 year
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“Chy Baby”
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tender-rosiey · 7 months
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smack, smack — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: special thanks to the beautiful @stinkyme for inspiring me to actually write this and for fangirling over the idea with me <3
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gojo satoru, like any dad, got his fair share of ‘bullying’ from his daughter, his 5 months old baby.
some dads get peed on, others get their hair pulled, and others get their nose bitten on the daily. it's a little something to make them suffer a bit like the mothers had to during the pregnancy.
your husband, however, is always getting smacked in the face whenever he has his blindfold on, and I mean harshly smacked in the face and unforgiving scratching.
the first time it happened was when he was going to school. he was ready, uniform on and everything, but he simply had to say goodbye to his two girls.
skipping to your shared bedroom, he placed two big smooches on your face. then, after much of pulling him off you, he went to smooch his little girl. a big unmatched grin was on his face as he looked down at her in her crib.
he picked her up, cooing softly at her, “what a pretty girl, just as pretty as your mama, huh?”
satoru then laid her gently against his chest and started rocking her softly, while humming. after a while, he felt her stir a little in his arms. she sleepily looks up at him, and he smiles down at her, “good morning, baby—“
now, your daughter was used to seeing her dad without the blindfold. she was used to getting met by her dad's bright blue eyes.
so when a strange unknown man was holding her up instead of her papa, she started wailing and screaming, repeatedly smacking him in the face.
whenever her little—strong—hand landed on the blindfold, she would try to pull it off with all her baby might. you scrambled out of your bed at the loud screeches and screams of both your husband and your daughter.
you saw how satoru was desperately trying to, as gently as possible, make her release her grip. you stumbled on your words, before yelling, “your blindfold! take off your blindfold off!”
“I! am! trying!” he yelps as she continues slapping the hell out of his face.
you hurry and take his blindfold off, swiftly throwing it to the side. he started rocking her, smiling despite the red marks and scratches all over his handsome face, “it’s me, daddy! you see me?”
almost magically, your daughter calmed down in an instant with the occasional hiccup from her previous crying. he smiled, “there you go; that’s my girl.”
she gently made grabby hands at him, and he quickly pulled her back into his chest. your daughter instantly snuggled into his shoulder and hid her face in his neck.
you stared at him for a moment, “well, at least we know that she bloody hates that blindfold.”
it honestly kind of adds up.
you remember the many times that your daughter was generally distressed or fussy and instantly calmed down when she saw her dad’s eyes. you also remember that one time your daughter was actually zoning out while looking at satoru’s eyes, her own safe place.
satoru chuckles with a shrug, “I have you as my savior, anyway.”
“you can’t always count on me to be the one to save you from our daughter’s monstrously strong grip.”
and he can’t.
no one is brave enough to try and to fight back a baby, let alone the strongest sorcerer’s baby.
that attack happens way more than satoru would like. for example, whenever you’re busy, he takes his little princess to the school with him. in general, everyone helps in taking care of the little angel (devil in some cases).
however, god forbid she sees satoru coming back from a mission with his blindfold on.
it took some time for your husband to learn his lesson and immediately take his blindfold off before he entered the school. until then, he was prone to his daughter’s crazy strong hand smacking his face till his entire face is painted red and not the cute kind.
satoru never believed in his students to save him, except for yuuji. the first time it happened around the students, most of them were either laughing or speechless.
yuuji did try to save his sensei from his smacking machine of a daughter, but ended up getting smacked himself.
your husband did hope that, maybe, nanami’s heart would soften, and he would finally help him.
nanami’s heart did soften, just not for satoru. instead, your daughter now has a special soft spot in nanami’s heart, as he did in hers, but that isn’t our topic for today.
the amount of times you would enter the room to find nanami chuckling or smiling at your husband getting beaten to a pulp by your baby. satoru could be sobbing, “nanami, please! save me!”
and nanami would simply smile—sadistically—and hum, “I don’t think I will.”
you’re pretty sure that nanami believes this is god’s way of punishing your husband for all the mischief he caused.
ignoring that, it grips your heart how satoru’s face would brighten up the moment he saw you. he would run up to you, giving you the baby to calm her down while he gives his face a rest.
and your little girl was smiling and giving you her version of cheek kisses.
your husband recovered quickly though, and took her back, his blindfold finally off. he doesn’t do it without pecking your lips though, “my savior.”     
then he gets lost in his own world with his little girl, and their laughs and giggles filled the room. her hands were gently holding her dad’s face as she squeals, and satoru’s heart soars as he forgets about his beating from a moment ago.
now, that doesn’t mean that his dear students don’t make fun of him for always losing against his little girl. during one of the recent teasings, he simply huffed, “you never tried the grip of a baby! tell them, yuuji!”
yuuji shudders as he remembers how long the slap mark lasted, “she is one hell of a strong baby.”
it’s one thing for panda and nobara to laugh, it’s another for megumi and maki to do so as well. your husband’s ego simply couldn’t take it anymore. he took his baby in his arms and gathered the baby bags, sparing one last glance at his ‘bullies’.
and so your husband dramatically exits the room, “I need my wife! I can’t with you people anymore!”
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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illusioninfnty · 7 months
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day 6 ; dry humping
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↠ monkey d. luffy x reader
fandom: one piece word count: 1.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dual virgins, luffy and reader are inexperienced, jealous!luffy if you squint, takes place a bit after opla season 1 so luffy is aged up
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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“Luffy?” You call for your captain, peeking your head into his quarters. “Is everything okay?”
You noticed that your cheery and optimistic captain had been unusually quiet the past few hours. He never had gone that long without some sort of exclamation or crazy action, and his odd behavior was worrying to you. So when he finally retreated to his room, you decided to follow to see what was up.
“Oh!” Luffy’s eyes widen, as he says your name, clearly surprised to see you. He sends you a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug, going inside and closing the door behind you. You take a seat next to him on his bed. “I don’t know,” you start. “You just seem…distant. You can tell me what's bothering you.”
Luffy sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his curls. “I don’t know how to describe it. I feel just so frustrated. But no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of it!”
You were confused too, unsure why Luffy wasn’t able to brush this off like he always did. Until a lightbulb went off. You remember Sanji mentioning urges that men get sometimes, and how they need a woman to fix it.
“It sounds like you might have some tension, you know, down…there.”
Luffy pauses, taking in what you said, before his eyes brighten. “I think you’re right!” he exclaims. “Oh wow, that makes a lot of sense now.” He goes quiet again, a sheepish look spreading across his face. “I don’t know how to get rid of it, though.”
You bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think I’m able to help you with it.”
Luffy jumps up and grasps your shoulders. “Alright!” he cheers. He sits back down next to you and looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in thought. “That actually makes a lot of sense. The feeling always gets worse whenever I’m around you. I guess you have to be the one to fix it then, huh?”
“O-oh.” You stutter. Not only did you just discover that your captain (who you may have had a tiny bit of a crush on) was sexually frustrated, but he was like that because of you. A wave of heat rushed down your body.
“Yeah.” You confirm to Luffy, hoping to not seem too excited about this whole situation. “I just have to get on top of you.”
Luffy nods, spreading his legs and leaning back on his forearms, inviting you in. You immediately notice the boner he’s sporting, which makes you heat up even more. You seat yourself right on top of it, causing the two of you to moan harmoniously.
You start to move yourself on top of Luffy, his clothed cock hitting your pussy in the perfect spot. The fabric of your underwear rubs against your clit, causing your wetness to begin to stain it.
You reach your hand down to palm him through his shorts, hoping that you're bringing him pleasure from at least one of two ways. Luffy looks up at you with curious eyes.
“How’d you know to do this?” he asks you.
“I heard Sanji talking about it. He says guys feel like that a lot. Pent up, ‘s what he called it.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Have you done this with him?”
“W-what? No!” Your hands scrunch up in his vest and you swallow hard. “This is actually my first time doing anything like this,” you admit sheepishly, eyes downcast.
Luffy grins. “Yeah, me too!” he says brazenly. “Guess we’ll figure out how to do this together!” He laughs. 
You send a matching grin back as you continue to grind on top of him. You’re practically sopping now, an audible sound happening when you rock back and forth on Luffy. His cock throbs furiously, and you gasp when he grabs your hips.
He starts to rock back onto you, pumping his hips upwards into you. You lean forward as the sensation weakens you, and Luffy buries his face into your neck.
“Feels good…” he mumbles into you. You hum in agreement as you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure.
You increase your pace, wrapping your arms around Luffy as you both press close against the other, grinding each other uncontrollably. 
Luffy suddenly stills your hips and moves you onto the bed, face down and ass hanging off the edge. You gasp in surprise.
“Want to try this,” he breathes out as he hovers over you. You’re met with him thrusting against you from behind, hips moving wildly as he lets out low groans behind you. Luffy wraps his arms around your midsection, holding you in place.
You’re strung out and helpless as Luffy humps into you, his pulsing cock hitting against your clit. Your wetness has fully soaked your bottoms, and Luffy is able to thrust his cock between your clothed lips with ease.
Your captain moves with reckless abandon, hips jutting against your own. Neither of you can talk past groans and whines. This act feels primal, both of you desperately chasing your release.
His hands on your waist tightens as he humps into you and his groans are loud in your ear. You arch yourself into him, attempting your best to rub yourself against his cock.
He moans out your name into the crook of your neck as his body covers your own. “You feel really great,” he continues, his voice cracking. He moves faster and faster against you, seeking his peak. 
Your hands fist the bedsheet as you bounce back and forth against his thrusts and grinds against your clothed pussy. “Luffy!” you cry out. You can feel his hips start to move out of rhythm and he lets out a final low moan before you feel the stickiness of his cum seep through his shorts and onto your own.
Both of you are panting furiously, tired from your romp. Luffy rolls off of you, collapsing next you on the bed. You turn yourself onto your back and lean towards him, basking in the pleasure you just received.
Luffy turns his head towards you. “I don’t want you to do that with anyone else on the crew.” He says, with more seriousness than you’ve heard from him all night.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” You hesitate to continue as you prepare for disappointment with your next statement. “But—if you want, we can do this again soon. If you’d like to.” You mentally hit yourself in the head for stumbling over your words so embarrassingly.
He sits up, seemingly recovered from his orgasm. “Are you kidding? You don’t even need to ask! ‘Course we are!”
You laugh, wrapping your arms around your captain and giggling into his chest.
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yxami · 6 months
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happy nut or not November day 9
desc: yandere puppyboy x gn reader, mentions of nsfw, obsession, marking, breeding, stalking, obsession, perverted habits, I dunno what else
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Golden retriever boyfriend who perks up at any chance to please you, loving every-time you run your fingers through his hair, you’ve accustomed yourself to rotting in bed after work so you could cuddle with him all night.
He’s always whipping something up in the kitchen when you get home so you’re happy and full. He always has it written down on the whiteboard magnetically held on your fridge.
If you recall correctly you think it might’ve been a soup of some sort, he was always switching it up every week so nothing was ever repeated unless you liked it and asked for it again. Today was a special occasion since you were bringing a friend over but that was a surprise for him.
“Hey, welcome home!” He happily says, tail wagging as he sees you stepping inside the apartment, he’s about to run up and hug you until he sees a figure behind you. He already doesn’t like the look of this.
“Hey babe, I’ve told you about Erin right?” You introduce your coworker, letting him pop up beside you as you scoot to the left. “He’s over for dinner!” You smile, but it doesn’t help with his boiling jealousy at all.
“Maybe.. I don’t remember” He brushed off your coworkers presence and goes off to the kitchen, making you miss out on his daily affection when around this time.
“He seems nice!” Your coworker laughs awkwardly, wondering if you also picked up on the switch after seeing him.
“Yeah, he is”
As you and your coworker sit on the couch chatting your boyfriend is left grumbling to himself about this stupid visitor, and how he was ruining everything just by being here.
He was never this salty but the fact that someone was invading his territory, his own house, is bewildering to him. You didn’t even ask him if it was okay to bring someone over.
He sulks with his tail and ears low while stirring the tomato soup he made. He brings the bowls to the dinner table and calls you over, failing to have enough care in the world to address your friend as well.
“It’s really good! Did you add anything new this time?” You grin, dipping a quarter of your bread into your tomato soup before chewing then gulping it down.
“Yeah, some new seasonings” He mumbled unenthusiastically as he plays with his food, uselessly moving his spoon in the tomato soup he served himself.
His mood only sours further when he hears the wretched voice of your coworker trying to pipe in about how savory his cooking was. It only made him growl more under his breath.
Yandere puppy boy that cleans up after the two of you finish and wonders if your coworker is going to leave yet, dinner was over so what purpose did that guy have left to be here?
He’s so tempted to bite and punch him until he leaves but he knows he has to behave.
He’s so ecstatic when the idiot finally leaves and goes to his own home, where he should’ve had his dinner in the first place instead of interrupting the romantic dinner he could’ve had with you!
Yandere puppy boy that not only has jealousy problems but attachment issues specifically during his heat. He honestly can’t help it when he raids your underwear drawer looking for his favorite pair as soon as he starts feeling heat rise throughout his body.
It’s just so calming whenever he’s able to have your underwear with him as he pumps his cock with it until you finally come home.
He’s so needy that he’ll tear your clothes off so it’s easier, he can just buy you new work pants tomorrow anyways. He’s been meaning to buy you a new pair!
He can even make it up to you as he bends you over the couch armrest, lining up the head of his cock right against your hole before pushing slowly inside of you.
He gives you about 5 seconds to get used to his cock before he’s moving his hips, going at a slow pace at first. He loves how you already writhe at his touch when he runs his hands down your sides before using your hips as a handle.
He’s never usually this in control but during his heat he can’t help but want to provide everything for you. Especially when he can fuck these cute little moans out of you.
Yandere puppy boy that marks you with kisses and nips at your neck after bringing you close, turning those nibbles into love bites until he’s needily lapping at your skin. He knows you prefer when it’s not in obvious places but he can’t help but want to show people that you’re already taken.
His cock bumps up against a sensitive spot inside of you so many times while his balls slap against your squeezed thighs and your legs feel like jello even with the armrest that you used for support.
He’s bullying your sensitive hole with his fat cock making the regular skin slapping sound until you’re cumming around it, still getting fucked while a plap plap plap sound echos through the room. You dig your nails into the couch’s skin while you pant and hear his moans.
He pays no mind to the sounds unlike you, grunting as he continues his feverish thrusts into you, you just feel too good to stop now. Especially when you keep tightening against him like you want to suffocate his cock with your insides.
He’s able to handle another minute of being inside of you until his vision blurs as he reaches his high, spilling his seed inside of you as he blabbers about how much he loves you, tail wagging at speeds you only see during times like these.
Yandere puppyboy who’s so love sick he’ll run over during his break to your workplace to see what you’re doing. He won’t exactly directly visit but he’ll try to see what’s going on from the doors of your workplace.
He’s always been too nervous to come in without an excuse since you’d probably send him back to work. So he usually settles with the peeping at your office window until his breaks over.
And if he has an excuse it’s food related, bringing you lunch that you might’ve forgotten or just giving you more since he wanted to see how cute you looked focused on your work before noticing him.
Yandere puppy boy who’s just too obsessed with you <3
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tojisun · 6 months
Text
the first time that biker!simon suggested that he drives you around on his bike, you were terrified to the point of declining his offer.
“i can’t,” you mumbled, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater, your lips downturned in genuine disappointment. “‘m sorry.”
you couldn’t meet his eyes, nervous that perhaps you’ve made him upset, but simon just took your hands on his – your small palms fitting snuggly against his gloved ones – and squeezed gently.
“you don’t have to apologize for anything, sweetheart,” simon replied, pulling you close until you were forced to tilt your head up to finally meet his gaze. you rove your eyes over his features, taking in the dimple of his cheeks as he gave you a smile, all boyish and breathtaking.
“don’t worry about it, yeah?” he asked before wrapping you in an embrace after seeing your hesitant nod.
he’s right, you know that. you shouldn’t have worried about it at all, but simon had always loved his bike. had always loved the thrill of the ride; the way the wind whipped against his skin or how the sounds of the road are intensified even with his helmet. you knew it was an irreplaceable experience so of course you truly couldn’t let go of his request.
it sat there on your mind every time he picked you up in his car, his harley tucked in the garage for the day. it curled around the crevices of your heart whenever simon kissed your temple before going out for a night ride with the boys.
“take care, okay?” you would say.
“always,” he would reply, kissing you on the lips again as though sealing his promise before pulling his helmet on and hopping onto his bike. he’d kiss the edges of his gloved knuckles where your initials lay then drive off.
it sat there in the pit of your stomach until one friday afternoon, you tugged onto his sleeve and whispered, “can i hitch a ride?”
the smile on simon’s lips was blinding and you couldn’t help the swoop of giddiness that filled you up when he snatched you from you stood, lifting you up before twirling you around the room.
“you sure you want this?” he asks now, blinking down at you as you fiddle with the zippers of your leather jacket. you look at simon, watching as he twirls your helmet in his hands, and even through his balaclava you can see how his face is pinched in doubt.
(you still can’t believe how simon had stowed away your very own helmet, murmuring how he got it as a valentines gift but decided to hide it when he saw just how hesitant you were when he made the offer.
“i was scared that if you saw i got you y’r own helmet, you would’ve felt pressured to agree to ride with me,” simon whispered, rubbing a thumb at the visor before shooting you a small smile. “stop pouting, love. i know you well, after all.”)
“never surer,” you say with a giggle before showing yourself off to him.
simon hums appreciatively, beautiful eyes narrowing in muted desire. “should see you in leather more, sweet girl. look how beautiful you are.”
you playfully swat at his arm in your embarrassment before standing still when simon lifts the helmet in his hands with a quiet beckoning. you let him fit it on you, your hair gathered in one of his hands and the other gently sliding the helmet on your head. all throughout, you watch the way his eyes crinkle in delight, his touch so reverent, and it makes you choke on the intensity of your love for this beautiful man.
he taps at the top of your visor when he is done, then he is stepping away to prep himself for the ride.
“c’mere, sweetheart,” he says when he is done. “y’got nothin’ to worry about, not w’me here.”
his words burn you, filling you up with encompassing warmth that tickles your cheeks and dips into your neck. you giggle as you shake off the last of your nerves before stepping close, hovering beside his harley, waiting for his instructions.
it wasn’t long or complicated by any chance, but you can see simon’s cautiousness shining through and that eases up your own worries.
there are things for you to remember, he says, things that would ensure your safety and his. and you take him seriously, nodding when he points at his bike and tells you where to prop your feet up, where to sit, where to hold. then, he holds your hands and says that you call all the shots; that if you want to stop, to squeeze his shoulder three times and he’s pulling over.
“this is all about you havin’ fun so don’t push y’rself, alright baby?” simon murmurs, ending his tirade.
then, he takes you for that promised ride.
you two planned to go to the park, just somewhere that’s far enough from your place but still within the expansive stretch of the city road’s smooth asphalt. he asked if you would’ve preferred the beach, but that was a two hour ride and you truly couldn’t handle anything that long. when you told him so, he laughed and kissed the top of your head and said, “then i’ve got the perfect place for you.”
the purr of the machine between your legs is unusual, if not a little bit weird. your grip on simon’s waist must be painful but you don’t have it in you to loosen up, especially not when the speed kicks up to match the traffic. you bite down a squeal when he makes a turn towards the highway, your stomach flipping when you physically feel the bike leaning to your side, almost like it’d fall anytime soon.
of course it doesn’t because simon’s a damn good driver but the adrenaline is coursing through you in waves, surprisingly dousing the fires of your anxiety and replacing it instead with a pooling elation because this feels so fucking good.
you don’t even realize that your hands have loosened their hold onto simon, gripping just enough not to fall. you lift your head from where it’s pressed on his back, tilting just enough to see past his bulk and to take in the dizzying colours of the trickling dawn. the wind is cool even with your jacket, and even though your helmet and visor is obscuring your nose, you take a deep inhale.
fuck. you might just get addicted to this.
the next time that simon swerves to exit the highway, you no longer bite down your squeal, letting it instead rumble from your throat and into the air. simon’s shoulders shake and you realize that he’s laughing, high from your reaction. you couldn’t help it but giggles flutter from your lips, full of the thrill of this experience.
the park comes to view soon and you pout, wanting to keep the drive going. but simon pulls over, parks, and only when the engine stops do you feel the numbness spreading through your legs.
“you doin’ okay over there, sweetheart?” simon asks, remaining seated, unable to stand with you still holding onto him.
“mhmm!” you reply. “i can’t stand up though.”
he barks out a laugh. “oh yeah. that might take a while.” he reaches behind him to rub at the sides of your thighs, massaging whatever he can reach.
you hum, rubbing your hand on his abdomen. “s’fine. ‘m not rushing.” you nuzzle your helmet on his back, falling into silence as you feel yourself unravel from the short experience. you breathe in deeply, the air fogging your visor, and say, “i loved that, si. thank you so much.”
simon’s hold on your thighs gain strength, squeezing gently. “of course, sweetheart.” you hear the happiness in his voice, breathless from his own rush of dopamine. “thank you for trusting me.”
“always, baby,” you reply, squeezing him again, muffling your giggles when you heard his surprised wheeze at the action. “i’ll always trust you.”
(ext.01) (ext.03) // mlist!
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vienssunshine · 7 months
Text
It's Too Much
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pairing: Choso Kamo x fem!reader nsfw: dom!reader, inexperienced!Choso, premature ejaculation word count: 1.5k author's note: this idea took third place in the poll, but I was extra inspired to write this because of a tik tok my friend sent me. description: Choso has been touch-starved for so long, so when you touch him, it can be a lot, maybe even too much for him to handle
Choso has never felt another's body against his own that wasn’t attempting to hurt him. For all 150 years he’s been alive up until he met you, physical contact meant pain. But now, he’s beginning to learn that that isn't completely true.
There are similarities between a touch of pain versus…pleasantness might be the word—he hasn’t sorted it out completely yet—as a feeling lingers after contact. A strike leaves an aching bruise, the afflicted area reminding him of the injury whenever the slightest pressure is applied, but when you place a gentle hand on Choso’s shoulder while speaking to him, it leaves behind something entirely different. 
The best way he can describe the initial feeling is as a warmth, and not just due to the intrinsic heat from where your flesh meets his, but one that swells in his chest and spreads out to the rest of his body. After you leave, your touch doesn’t require a mark on his skin or a painful sting like a bruise needs to be remembered, rather, the outline of where your fingers laid on his shoulder simmers on his skin for the rest of the day. 
You fluster him with your casual touches–placing your hand on his forearm or leaning your head on his shoulder–but it helps him work up the courage to start acting on his own desires to feel you. He appreciates how you let him take his time as he explores the little things, like the feeling of holding your hand, intertwining his roughened fingers with yours. He looks up to your face, making sure what he's doing is okay, and you give him a gentle smile, telling him he's doing great. There is that warmth in his chest again. He realizes he likes the feeling of you praising him—a lot. 
Soon, he starts asking for more: to cup your cheeks, pet your hair. One day, he asks to hold your body against his on the bed, feeling your softness and warmth while working hard to regulate the influx of emotions your proximity inspires. Yet, it gets the better of him and he asks something that’s been on his mind for a while: if he can kiss you.
You accept, of course, and with your lips so soft and sweet, things quickly develop, escalating to the point where you are on top of him, straddling his big legs, and kissing down his bare chest to his waistband. He tries to keep still, but your lips feel so good and his hips betray that, gently thrusting up and into you.
“S-sorry,” Choso says, “I…I can’t control it.”
You look up from his chest. “It’s okay, Choso,” you say as you drag your hands down his abs to his waistband, deepening the pink dusted upon his cheeks, “It seems like you want more.” 
“Mhmm,” Choso whimpers, watching as you tuck your fingertips into his waistband and pull it down, freeing his sensitive erection.
Your hands wrap around his length and his eyes flutter closed in bliss. Being touched there is a new sensation for Choso and it’s stirring up a feeling he hasn’t had much experience with.
He thinks it’s arousal, which is, according to Mahito, what causes humans to “fuck.” But Mahito always spoke about fucking in a negative light, describing it as disgusting, primal thing humans do. That perspective doesn't make sense to Choso anymore because whatever you are igniting in him, if it is that aroused feeling Mahito described, feels so good he thinks he would die if you stopped. 
“Do you like this, Choso?” you ask as you stroke him. Hearing his name fall so sweetly from your lips sends a shiver through Choso’s body. 
“I-I do,” he says, moaning when you pay special attention to his pink tip, stimulating the sensitive area with your fingers in a tight circle. He’s been unconsciously bucking his hips up into your fist, chasing more of this unfamiliar sensation that has pressure to build up in his stomach.
“Then, would you like it if I put it inside of me?” 
He hadn’t considered that as a possibility, already so pleasure-drunk from feeling your palm against him, but there’s no way he can refuse your offer. 
“Yes. Yes—fuck—please do that.”
“Alright, Choso,” you say, getting off of him, “You just sit still, okay?” 
His breathy whine tells you that the last thing he wants to do is sit still. You smile, he looks so cute when he’s desperate.
“Just a little bit longer,” you say, intentionally moving slower than necessary just to see how long the poor curse can hold out.
He watches as you pull down your underwear, and the second you remove it, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you back on top of him. Then he’s pressing hot, sloppy kisses to your neck, devouring it like a man starved. His passion and intensity make up for his lack of experience, though you note he’s getting the hang of it.
Choso’s barrage of affection is halted by a surprised gasp when you grip his erection and align yourself with it. The hunger in your eyes reminds him of how out of his element he is, but he doesn’t let it scare him, rather, he lets it feed his desire of making you feel as good as he does. 
You hold the tip to your entrance and Choso’s breath hitches when he feels the wetness and warmth of your hole. Slowly, as to not overwhelm, you sink down on him, and he moans—sweet and unbridled—from the way your walls hug him. 
“I’ve—hah—never…felt something like this,” he says, eyes pressed closed, wrinkling the thin black mark running just underneath them. 
Your hands fall onto his built chest as you make it all the way down on him, driving the entirety of his long, slender dick deep within you. His hands fly to your hips when it happens, but then one grabs for your wrist on his chest, circling his fingers around it, needing you to help him through this new sensation. 
“Feels good?” you ask, your voice breathy.
“Feels s’good,” he says, “Too good.” He shifts around underneath you; the pressure he was feeling earlier when you were touching him is becoming inescapable, sweeping through his stomach like a vicious undercurrent. 
“I’m going to start moving now, 'kay?” you say. 
Choso nods but is woefully unprepared for when you begin to lift your hips up and down, pushing his length through your gummy walls. Your movements on top of the information already flooding his senses–your warm skin, rapid heartbeat, fluttering eyes—it's so overwhelming. His head falls back, and even though you’re going at such a slow pace, it feels like your walls are milking him, intent on making the tightness in his core snap.
Choso knows it’s too much for him, but watching your eyes close in pleasure and your fingers dig into the skin on his chest, it makes him want to keep going, to not cum just yet. But with the sight of you naked on top of him and the way your insides are squeezing him, not cumming is a near impossible task. He wants to do a good job for you, to hear you tell him that, but he's sure he won’t last. 
“Fuck, I’m s-ah-sorry,” Choso whines, “I can’t…if you keep moving, I can’t-“ 
“You’re gonna cum already, Choso?” you ask, a wickedness in your voice, “You feel that good?”
You’re teasing him, despite how you find your view beyond erotic: he’s a squirming mess underneath you, with his eyebrows pressed together, face flushed with warmth, and fingers tight around your wrist as he just fights the urge to cum.
“Yes—ngh—you feel s’good, s’good-I’m sorry,”—you feel his cock twitch inside you—“I can’t, I’m sorry, m’gonna-“
He groans, thrusting his hips up into you with a force that requires you to grab onto him to stay put, and empties his load deep inside you, sweet moans interspersed with apologies.
You’d be more disappointed in him for not lasting long, but with this being his first time in a while, you’re willing to forgive—especially after being treated to his endless, pretty noises.
When he comes down, you press a kiss on his cheek, “Too much, Choso?” you ask.
“I’m sorry, you just felt so good,” he says in between pants. His poor body is shaking, his chest is heaving, and a pink flush burns all over his pale skin. 
“It’s okay,” you say, “I enjoyed that.” Only, you wish you had been able to cum, too. Seeing him writhe underneath you has your cunt aching for attention.
He sits up, and you feel his cock move inside you. “Still, I wanted to last for you.”
“Sweet boy,” you say, pushing a few strands of dark hair out of his face, “You did great. I know it’s been a while since you’ve done anything like this.” 
He’s still pouting, but his frown turns into a smile when an idea hits him. He flips you over with ease—sometimes you forget how strong he is—and pulls out of you, keeping your legs open so he can bring his face down to your cunt, wetness mixed with his own cum seeping out of it. 
He presses a kiss to your inner thigh. “Let me make it up to you, I haven’t gotten to feel you on my tongue yet.” 
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omgeto · 7 months
Text
✩ — 4:21am
summary: gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you.
cw: minor angst, fluffy ending (I PROMISE) this is for all you sad hojoes out there that just want your man home all in one piece.
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gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you. you didn't actually think much of it, until one night, you awake in panic feeling that something's off. you are used to falling asleep as you wait for gojo to come home, but when you check the time and realise that it was later than usual, anxiety gnawed at your heart.
the clock on the bedside table mocks you with its relentless ticking. each passing second only intensifies your unease. you reach for your phone and check for messages or missed calls, but there's nothing. gojo hasn't contacted you since the last heated argument you had before he left for his mission. it's been hours since then.
you can’t even remember what you fought about, it was something trivial, him forgetting to put the milk back in the fridge, or not putting down the toilet seat—it was dumb. it hurts you even more now that the things you were just berating him for a few hours ago, you were begging for him to come back and do one more time.
fighting back the growing panic, you try calling him. his phone rings, but there's no answer. of course there wouldn’t be you knew that he doesn’t use his phone when he was out, but you just had to try, hoping that he’d sent a quick text to say he was just around the corner—but there was nothing.
you couldn’t help but conjure up terrifying scenarios about him. what if he’s injured? what if he’s been chopped up into little pieces and he’s in pain? wanting to call you and he can’t.
you can't stay still any longer, pacing back and forth in your dimly lit apartment. your thoughts are a jumbled mess, and you can't shake the feeling that something terrible has happened. the world outside is quiet, and the darkness feels suffocating. 
your mind wanders to the first time you met him, he was persistent immediately when he first laid eyes on you, claiming that he would stop at nothing to get to be with you. and that was true. you wouldn’t give him the time of day, at first, but whenever you were around him doing your ‘hard to get routine,’ he put in extra effort just to get with you.
there wasn’t anyone you could even ask to see if he was okay, since if he wasn’t, who else would be? and there’s a part of you that wouldn’t even want to know, you had to see him, alive and well for all your worries to be gone.
as the minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity, you cling to thoughts of him, each memory acting as a lifeline. there wasn’t even any indication that something bad happened to him, but there is something unsettling that you just couldn’t shake.
you could feel him before you could even hear the faint tapping at the door. there isn’t any hesitation as you bolt to the door, dragging a weak standing gojo into a tight hug only pulling away as you hear him softly wince at your heavy touch.
“sorry,” he murmurs, standing with his arm clutching at his lower stomach, slightly hunched over, “i lost my keys.”
“you lost your keys?” you practically yell, “that’s what you wanna focus on right now?” you ask as you look at his injured body. this is the worst you’ve ever seen him, and you could tell that he was in pain from the way his usual breezy smile, isn’t reaching his eyes like it normally does.
you quickly usher gojo inside, supporting him as he limps toward the couch. the dim living room lights reveals a deep gash on his face, and his clothes are torn and stained with dirt and blood. 
“take off your shirt,” you order, your face filled with concern as you try and properly assess all his injuries.
“aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” he jokes, cringing as you remove his shirt from over his head, trying not to hurt him further.
“this isn’t the time for jokes ‘toru,” you chastise, shaking your head to prevent yourself from getting emotional, “y’know i really thought that—” you sigh, not even wanting to utter the words, since it doesn’t matter as he’s here now, alive.
“i can’t even lie,” he starts, his eyes staring down, avoiding yours. “for a moment out there, i didn’t know if i could live up to my promise to you.” you couldn’t even respond, the fact that gojo could even admit that there was a chance that he wasn’t gonna get back to you, had you panicked.
“c’mere,” he says pulling your into his lap, noticing the stressed expression that has yet to leave your face.
you were quick to jump off of him, but he kept you firm in his hold, his arms wrapped protectively around you. despite the pain he must have been in, his eyes held a mixture of relief and vulnerability as he looked into yours. “satoru you’re hurt.”
but he gave you a reassuring smile, one that couldn't quite hide the pain etched on his face. "i'm okay, really," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “i just need you close right now."
as you settled back into his embrace, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, reassuring you that he was indeed alive and home with you, where he had always promised to be.
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AN: SO GUYS HOW DID I DO? im not really a drabble or fluffy girlie, as you guys know. but um tada... this is for you all. love ya. If there’s mistakes in there it’s 6am so ignore em please IF THIS IS SHIT THEN IM SORRY I TRIED. But as long as one gojo lover says “emp you’ve mended my little heart” I can die happy
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satoruhour · 6 months
Note
i can’t stop thinking about riding satoru while he’s laying down his hands behind his head and watching us with a smug face ahhhhhhh i’m pulling my hair out
a/n: i immediately turn poetic whenever i write for gojo idk why guys 💀 + combining with another request where anon sent this in and said satoru core, so real! / tagging @shotorus @hannzai @arminsumi @jabamin @hyomagiri <3
warnings: dom!satoru, fem!reader, i lay the praise on thick here n i could be projecting but idk, pet names, humping, clit stimulation, overstimulation, riding, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, brief consensual filming, n*sfw under the cut
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you think that you’re not so bad on the stamina spectrum — you could hold your own against a special grade pretty easily even after getting beaten down in unexpected attacks, training with your students have kept you on your toes and alert despite your years, and satoru . .
oh, being with satoru has your stamina improving without even you knowing it. whether it’s pushing him away during tickle fights, smacking him hard on the back when he forgets about his students’ missions yet again, or letting yourself submit completely to him in the bedroom, it’s never just one round with gojo. the man was naturally fit and had his reversed cursed technique that he was basically invincible.
you? not so much, always struggling to catch up if your boyfriend wasn’t doing any of the work.
“s-satoru . . please, i need h-help,” you whine out, so so sensitive from the endless foreplay your lover had put you through for teasing him with raunchy photos. it wasn’t your fault he was gone for so long, sent to the rural parts of japan to exorcise a dormant curse — the signal was so terrible there that gojo couldn’t even text his pretty baby whom he missed so much, finally reaching his wits’ end and teleporting to a cell tower only to be met with your body stretched into suggestive poses with very little left to the imagination.
gojo swears he’s never seen beauty like yours before, like a breath of fresh air from the first time he’s got you in his arms to the photos he’s received on that cell tower. a mission has never been finished that quickly before; a teleport and one swipe of his hand, another teleport.
“you don’t want your lovely boyfriend to enjoy his time?” gojo pouts, hands spanning your ass and squeezing at the fat there. you moan at the sensation coupled with the drag of your clit along his thigh — his cock wasn’t even in you and you were already reduced to moans. “after you draped your body in baby blue and you already want to get to fucking?”
gojo has a little lilt in his voice that pisses you off because you know he wants to fuck you bad. you remember how riled up he was when he returned home three hours before, chest heaving and sweaty. you can feel the throb of his cock under you and the little noticeable shaky breaths, but making you beg, making you needy for him is his favourite pastime.
“f-fuck you, ’toru!” you stutter out, thighs burning from grinding so long into his leg that you don’t even know whether you’re cumming or not; all you know is the addicting feeling each time he tenses his thigh for you. satoru laughs, wandering hands leaving trails of fire along your skin as you gasp and grasp at his shoulders. he lets you, squeezing encouragingly at your waist and helping you just a little. a small smile spreads across his face when he feels your cunt twitch at his beautiful laugh, entrance clenching around nothing.
“soon. you’ll need to be patient,” gojo chastises, eyes flitting between watching your connected parts of smeared arousal and your expression of closed eyes and a pretty ‘o’  that catches the moonlight, “look at ’er,  just so wettt . .” the sorcerer whistles at the mess you’re leaving on his leg, juices flowing so sinfully that it leaves a clear sheen of reflectiveness to it. 
“c’mon baby, c’mon baby, you can cum for me, can’t you?” gojo taunts and you feel the need to answer him even when your own body is asking you to rest.
“mhmh, ’toru—” you hump his thigh harder, tugging his body closer as you settle for the most friction you can get against your puffy clit. because you’re leaking so much, the glide of your pussy is so smooth and sticky along his skin, chasing your high more and more until your words are choked out in a high-pitched moan — “satoru, satoru, s-shit . .!”
gojo coos at your unravelling, bumping his leg into your cunt repeatedly as you ride out your orgasm and by now he is hard that it hurts almost, but he’s focused on your pleasure. he licks his lips like a pervert when you tremble at the orgasm, carrying your leg over his just to see strings of your cum stick to your core and his skin, laying a light slap to your pussy just to hear the slickness.
“oi!” you call out, out of breath as you swat his hand away as he giggles and have to take a breather against your boyfriend’s chest, burying your face into his neck. but for as long as satoru have been teasing you, he hasn’t been getting any action and is desperate to just be in you, fishing his cock out from his underwear. it’s pretty as always, curved with an angry red tip that is aching to stretch you out and a vein that runs along the side of it; it slaps into your inner thigh as he pumps it with a low groan.
“can ya ride me, sweetness?” you let out a small sound of disagreement, littering kisses along his skin in hopes that he’d indulge you, but with his free hand, he’s tapping his tip against your welcoming cunt, emphasising the sheer amount of cum you were dripping with. below you, his toned chest vibrates with the moans at the warmth of your cunt, of your 
“’m tired . .” you trail off, before a quiet gasp leaves  you when satoru first pushes past your entrance. and though you’ve taken him so many times, his girth still surprises you to some extent, digging your forehead further into his collarbone as he pushes into your gummy walls. bit by bit, your boyfriend bottoms out in you but does anything but move and of course, it’s a ploy by the one and only. “you’re not going to fucking move, aren’t you?”
gojo makes a terrible ding! sound and snaps his fingers, prompting a glare out of you until the needy words come tumbling out of his mouth, “i want to see you ride me, baby, please.”
“weren’t you the one coming home like a sex-crazed mani— ah!” he knows he still holds control over you when he snaps his hips into you and you freeze up with a whine of his name, nails digging into the sheets and skin. “that’s cheating.” gojo simply hums, placing a kiss on your lips that you don’t reciprocate before the room falls into silence: he leans back, putting both hands behind his head before nodding at you — and because he knows it’s him, he carries the gesture with confidence with no break in his character of just how you were so goddamn tight and warm.
he grits his teeth before trying to relax, “d’you think my pretty girl can give me a show?”
obedient and defiant, you moan softly with a glower, “s-sure i can— lazyass.”
gojo knows you mean it with affection, letting out a small laugh before the moment is interrupted by the first lift of your hips. from where he is, he can see how your folds stretch for his thick cock and the lewdness of your expression, until you start a pace and the little pants that leave your lips hypnotise gojo into a trance. he watches your dazed features with a smug smile as you bounce on him, ass meeting his pelvis in loud slapping noises.
“satoru— s’full, s’big—!” mewling out, your hands switch from abs to chest to headboard, finding anything to anchor yourself to as you ride his cock that nudges all the right spots. each descent is bound to send you reeling, drool dripping from the side of your mouth with how you seem to get more and more intoxicated on his length — even when your muscles start to ache in similar places like earlier and gojo seems to break from the little humps from his hips. 
“s’too much, h-hurts, ’toru . .” you whine with a pout to your voice, eyes lining with tears at the overwhelming pleasure, groping around desperately at the hand that indulges you briefly. it travels up your body, around your nape and back around, playing with your lips—
“you can do it, baby, ridin’ me so well . . s-shiiit,” gojo praises with a trembling rasp, toying with your bottom lip before grabbing your face and forcing you to look down, “you’re making me feel so, so good, sweetheart—” squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment and then back again to compose himself, “—look at how well you take my cock.” the obscene words drags even more moans from you coupled with the sight of your pussy stuffed full of your boyfriend’s pretty dick, so filled to the brim with so much cum seeping from your cunt.
your wonderment is what prompts satoru to tug you forward into a sloppy kiss, leaning back even more as you yelp into his mouth and your beauty is just what sends gojo into a frenzy. the smugness is gone, the teasing nature is gone, just grasping at pockets of air to moan out together as gojo takes the reins and slams his hips into yours. the sheer force of it sends you jerking more into his embrace, sharing a loud, pornographic moan before a multitude of profanities fall from gojo’s mouth.
“you’re just too— fuuck! too perfect, princess,” satoru whimpers, arms wrapped tightly around your middle with pelvis thrusting up into you that if it wasn’t for gojo’s strong arms, your body would be flailing everywhere -— he nibbles at the skin near your shoulder, trying his best to see where the base of his cock meets your ass in noisy, wet pap! pap! pap!’s, “pussy moulded just ta fit my fat cock, yea?”
satoru’s skin heats up when he feels you nod, babbles of “yes”’s and his name jumbled up together in drunken incoherence as he continues to impale you on his shaft. your thighs start to squeeze around his, your own hips grinding down to meet his halfway as you feel your high approaching.
“a-ain’t ya a good girl, hm?” the praise just keeps coming, whispered into your ear with hot breath fanning it and sending you in a delirious state, but gojo’s rhythmic thrust slows down as he grinds his cock into you and you tense up at the feeling of his tip against your g-spot. you jaw falls open in a silent moan, body limping into his once he abuses tha spot repeatedly in deep, deep thrusts, punctuating it in between every word—
“good. fucking. girl,” your boyfriend sounds out into your ear, a grunt between hisses at the way you clench around him, the way your pussy seems to flutter, “you. thrust. like. thrust. that. thrust. huh? thrust.”
“y—yeah, like it, love it, satoru—” you’re too far gone with these deeper thrusts before he switches back and knows you’re about to cum the hardest with the way your toes curl and uncurl. just one sneaky hand to your clit is enough to send you into mantras of his name and confessions — “love it, love you, loveyou, loveyou, ’toru” — body jerking at the overstimulation.
“that’s it . .” gojo says shakily even after he continues to ram into you, “attagirl, thaat’s my good girl.” by now, you’re reduced to nothing but a fucktoy for your boyfriend who chases his own high, proven easy by the sensation of your tight walls and the slickness of your pussy, rutting like a dog before he shoots his semen deep into you. even gojo is speechless, hips jolting into your cum-filled pussy with the need to breed: seed nestled deep into you while his weeping tip spurts out the last bits of his cum.
but gojo doesn’t pull out just yet, flipping the two of you easily and grabbing his long forgotten phone by the nightstand. gently with a smile, he pats your cheek, wakening you from your orgasm-induced slip into unconsciousness.
“baby, gonna take a vid, you okay?” you mutter out a small yes, cute little whimpers escaping your mouth when gojo slowly pulls out. “wanna spread your pretty pussy for me?” your hands obey before you even know it once you hear the start of the camera, fingers soaked with your combined juices as you spread your folds and he watches, entranced at the way your cunt pushes out his cum — and the way it seeps out of you, good lord — alongside the cockdrunk smile on your face.
satoru points the phone at your cunt, and marvels with a grin, “looks like she’s begging for more of my cum, yeah?”
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k-hotchoisan · 3 months
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heavy and sticky
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<seonghwa x fem! Reader>
Being sensitive is one thing, being easily turned on is one thing, being perverted is one thing. But being completely enamoured with you with all three combined? It’s just hell for Seonghwa.
Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, Seonghwa is perverted and desperate, cumming/orgasms with and without physical contact, overstimulation, masturbation, pussy eating, praise kink, cream pie, I hope this is filthy enough
A/n: I’m doing this for Seonghwa. Happy Valentine’s Day my darlings 💖
Tag list: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito
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Seonghwa has a problem.
Technically three, but it stemmed from one. So he likes to think of it as just one, which just so happens to be you.
He doesn’t know when it even started, but he thinks he remembers how at least. He knows this ridiculous crush on you fully bloomed when he saw you in a sundress that hiked up a little too high when your friend group went on a holiday, and he thinks how ridiculous it is when he lets himself grow closer and closer to you.
And now all he thinks about is how your skin would feel against his and it’d get him hard way too fucking easily. It doesn’t help that you adore being around him—it doesn’t help with his case at all. You stick to him like glue.
You don’t know that he’s so sensitive whenever you lean your head on his shoulder, whether intentional or not, because the moment the smell of your shampoo hits his senses, he blanks him out, only filled with you, and then he has growing problem beneath his underwear. From then on, any thought he has of you just spirals into a frenzy for Seonghwa.
At this point a crush is an understatement. He’s probably head over fucking heels for you.
What really is the cherry on the fucking icing is when he wakes from a wet dream of this fuck ass vivid dream of you and your poor pussy being completely ruined by his cock, your moans so fucking real he swears that you were really there letting him fuck you stupid, cum warm and thick in his pants when he stirs from his slumber, moans in between pants when more white spurts out of his wet and pathetic cockhead. He’s so fucked. It would have been fine if he didn’t have plans. But the fact that he’s meeting you for coffee in a few hours just makes the whole situation all the more ridiculous.
Now he’s seated across you, listening to your voice as if he didn’t cum all over himself just hours before the both of you meet. But thank the gods the remnants of a dream don’t last for long. Seonghwa likes to believe that he’s holding up well, and he is, taking sips of his iced drink, listening intently. He thinks you’re so pretty when you blink and break away your eye contact before your gaze flutters back to him, bright and cheerful as you run your mouth. Seonghwa wonders to himself how should he keep you smiling and glowing like that for him.
And then suddenly the thought of you under him, completely undone and messed up—eyes rolled back every time he fits his cock right inside you—has him blinking and sitting upright. Fuck. He adjusts his pants, obviously it doesn’t help, not when any point of friction is a contender to making him just cum right there and then. It takes Seonghwa almost all of his willpower to hold himself back and not palm his erection.
Seonghwa tries his best to slip back into the conversation the both of you were having, but he can barely pay attention, his gaze is flickering from your face to your body, to your lips and there he goes, his jaw clenched and his body begins to heat up. He doesn’t know how he’s able to pull through the coffee date with you, but the moment he slams the car door and starts the engine, he already knows who’s etched in his mind while he lets himself cum when he reaches home.
It’s a vicious cycle—the more he meets you, the more he craves for you, and then he asks you out to meet you even more. Seonghwa can’t help it—you’re like dopamine to him.
His wet dreams merge into his fantasies—after meeting you, he would reach home, pent up and so fucking horny that he can’t think—only filled with filthy thoughts of you. The one that fucks him over the most so far? Definitely the one where he almost loses composure when he watches you stretch when you were working out with him at the gym. He imagines himself tearing a hole in the tights you wear that hugs your ass so perfectly, no panties, just your bare, wet cunt exposed to the cool air before he slides himself in, listening to you choke on your moans while you cry about him stretching you open, and dirtying the mats below the both of you, while he’s completely lost in the warmth of your pussy. Needless to say, the combination of a pumping heart rate and the rush of endorphins results in a thick, veiny erection in his shorts, which he could barely hide if it wasn’t for the fact that he wears shorts on the looser end. By the time he reached the bathroom of his apartment, cum would leak past the opening of his shorts and he’d be panting, overstimulating himself until he softens.
The extent of the catastrophe? Which was single handedly the worst and best thing that ever happened. It had gone to the extent that the sound of your voice would drive him over the edge. Seonghwa’s mind is hazy with his legs open, fucking his hand. Until his phone screen suddenly lights up.
With your caller ID flashing across the screen.
Seonghwa knows he shouldn’t fucking do this.
But he can’t stop. The thought of hearing your voice just over the phone while he fucks his hand overrides any ounce of rationale he has, especially when he’s completely clouded in pleasure.
So he slides to answer.
“Hello? Hwa?”
Fuck. The way your voice just right at his ears. Seonghwa shivers slightly at thought of you seated before him, watching him with his shirt ridden up all the way past his perky tits while he bucks his hips into his hand.
“H-hey. What’s up, y/n?”
He’a edging himself, his strokes going slower, trying to compose himself, so he doesn’t give himself away, sweat beading down his temple and down his abs, his thighs twitching at every stroke he gives himself when your voice floods his ear.
“Seonghwa!” Your voice echoes through the loudspeaker, and Seonghwa bites back a groan at the way you’re calling his name, precum oozes out of the silt of his cockhead.
“Are you busy right now?” You ask.
He definitely is. “No I’m-hngh-not.” Fuck. He’s going breathless.
“You sure? You sound funny Seonghwa” you respond, wondering why his voice is suddenly an octave lower.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Fuck”, he heaves, failing at controlling his ragged breathing. It just feels so good hearing you call his name while he keeps leaking. He wonders how long he can keep himself sane while talking to you.
But you already caught wind of it—the breathlessness, the soft whines that escapes in between the words he says, the way his voice goes deeper. You’re not dumb. He just sucks at trying to hide it all.
And you’re also craving for him just as much as he is for you.
“Do you wanna open the door so I can help you out with that?”
Seonghwa’s phone clatters onto the floor, his eyes widen in shock. Shit. You found out.
And you’re outside his apartment. He wonders how he should approach this—ignoring you completely, blowing you off, making an excuse or just let you in? But the thought of him being caught by you only rouses him further, and he knows how much of a fucking pervert that makes him. He swallows hard as he pulls up his boxers, picking up his phone before he reaches for the door, his heart pounding in his ears.
There you are, standing right before him with the most poker face, before your fingers snakes around his wrist, shutting the main door as you lead him to his bedroom.
Seonghwa lands on his bed with you on top of him, a coy smile spreading across your cheek as you tilt his chin up with your finger, admiring the way he licks his plump lips in anticipation, his eyes wide and so entranced. His boxers are drenched to the point where you’re able to see the shape of his cockhead.
You make him watch you drop each piece of clothing onto the floor, agonisingly slow, almost like a strip tease and Seonghwa is eating up every single part of it until you’re just towering over him with you lingerie on. You sit on his lap, dangerously close to his erection.
“I was just about to ask you if you wanted to hang out since I was in the area. But I guess you had other plans, hmm?” You ask, tugging against the waistband of his underwear, the mild friction of fabric against his sensitive cock pulling a gasp out of the male.
You tug, and he lets you, his cock springing out as his boxers are strewn somewhere.
“Do you want me to touch you?” You ask, letting your hands rest on his thighs, giving him slow rubs, watching his cock twitch with every squeeze.
“Please. Touch me. Fuck me”, he says, albeit breathlessly, his fingers fisting against his bedsheets. Shame doesn’t exist in his vocabulary now.
He’s so fucking sensitive right now that the moment your hands start pumping his length, he already feels like he’s about to blow his load, but he forces himself to not to, even though strings of his sanity continue to snap one by one. Seonghwa’s cock is heavy against his abdomen, the previous edging session making his cock more sensitive than before, completely soaked and sticky. He swears you don’t know how long he’s been craving for this, needing this.
You’re soaked enough as it is, and the way Seonghwa is looking at you, so wet and desperate, his eyes so glazed out. You think he looks pretty when he’s on the verge of tears.
Maybe you should start taking advantage of it from now on.
Your fingers rest under his chin. “How long have you been touching yourself thinking of me?” You ask, his cock resting on your ass. He feels like he’s about to break.
“A while”, he mutters.
“Made you wait, didn’t I?”
Surprisingly he shakes his head, eyes still glued to yours. Even after all the perverse thoughts he flooded his mind with of you, he thinks it was worth every second to wait—he just didn’t expect it to come down to this so soon. You cup his jaw with your hands this time, leaning in to press your lips against his, sending his mind into a completely spiral at the taste of you. Seonghwa can’t get enough of the way you’re swirling your tongue against his, swiping his bottom lip, giving his bottom lip gentle bites and he chases after the sensation like starved person, his hand pressing against the back of your neck while the other is soft against your jaw. It’s passionate and so hungry for that few short minutes before you pull away, watching Seonghwa swallow hard as the sticky fluids from his cock stain your ass. Well? Not like you minded.
You pull your panties to the side, lifting your hips over his swollen cock, slowly sinking down, inch by inch, watching Seonghwa’s abdomen flex, while Seonghwa watches you with glazed eyes.
“Fuck. Oh fuckkkkk. So good. You’re so fucking warm”, he whimpers. Seonghwa swears he came just a little when he’s fully seated in you. His face contorts as he sinks into the pillows beneath him, trying to control his breathing as he shuts his eyes.
He’s so adorable, you think to yourself, watching him completely melt when he’s inside you. His hands are spread out on your thighs, then becoming a grip when you start moving, slowly creating a rhythm to bounce off his cock, the wet sounds of skin slapping growing louder by the seconds.
“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well for me”, you sigh, your mind plunged in the depths of pleasure as you bounce on his cock, watching Seonghwa with his thick furrowed eyebrows before he slowly opens them, his eyes rolling back.
He feels like he’s in heaven. Seonghwa thinks like it can’t get any better than this. Your moans are the only thing he hears, your cunt swallowing him is the only thing he feels.
Then the feeling hits—the feeling of wanting to burst. He stares up at you with a pleading gaze before he says, “gonna cum. Oh my fuck.” His head is spinning with stars, vision clouded with a dizzy white before he stills in you, holding your thighs down as he fills your cunt with spurts of warm cum. Seonghwa’s moans are pitched and they sound so fucking pornographic—it makes you want to overstimulate him over and over till he completely breaks. He’s breathless, moans turning into whines when you don’t lift yourself off him just yet, and squeezing his cock.
The base of his cock is slowly growing thick and sticky with cream and cum, but Seonghwa is craving for more. He is insatiable. His arms wrap around you, and in one swift motion, you’re suddenly below him. He pretty much folds you into half—well, mostly bending your legs and letting him stare at your sopping pussy like a fucking pervert as he pulls out and slides in again, watching the way his cum seeps out of you on top of forming thick strings of cum. Gods, you swear Seonghwa is such a perfect pervert.
“Let me eat you out, please. Want you to cum on my face, y/n”, he pleads, even though he’s already lowering himself down to your cunt. “I’ll make sure you feel so fucking good. Please.”
You giggle, tangling your fingers in Seonghwa’s hair, stroking his soft locks.
“If you do, you can cum in me as many times as you want.”
Your reply alone sends the poor man into the fucking heavens, having him pull your completely cum soiled underwear off your hips before latching his tongue against your soft and creamy folds.
Fuck. Seonghwa thinks he found his heaven.
Repeated flicks with this tongue against your clit pulls loud moans out of you, the way his tongue rubs against it over and over again, his eyes staring up at you like an angel’s.
Soon enough, your fingers are tugging against his hair while you drive him deeper into your cunt. Seonghwa can’t help but rut against the bedsheets to your moans, his eyes shutting from time to time from the friction of his cock and the sound of your voice as you call out his name whenever he hits a sweet spot.
“Hwa, I’m cumming. Oh, you’re such a good boy”, you mutter, shifting your hips as you fuck against his wet tongue, and Seonghwa’s hands are holding your hips down, your clit pulsing erratically on his tongue when your orgasm floods your senses. He watches the way you’re squirming—the way your head falls back, your legs spread open, the way you’re calling out, “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa!” when you’re rapidly falling apart on his tongue. The grip on your hips tighten, soft gasps and pants leave his lips as red flushes against his cheeks once more.
Your thighs clamp against his head as slick and cream dirties the sheets beneath you, the sensitivity ramping up in levels once your high wears off. Nonetheless his tongue is still lapping up your cum like he’s dehydrated, and your thighs relax to let him off. He looks so fucking pussydrunk that it makes your head spin.
Seonghwa sits up, albeit shakily, and you see why. His cum sits in a puddle where he was lying down on the bedsheets, some trickling down his thighs. You can’t help but smile, crawling towards him to close the distance between the both of you, stopping right before him to kiss his jaw.
“Tell me all your fantasies about me, Hwa. Let’s make them all come true”, you hum calmly, rubbing his inner thighs gently, watching his eyes form hearts as more thick white spurts out of his red cockhead.
You know he still has rounds to go.
2K notes · View notes
jyoongim · 3 months
Note
THE WAY U WRITE THE OLD RED DEMON MAN IS JUST SO NEKEKDKEOWB
Might I just add onto the seemingly continuous alastor requests. I'd love to see Alastor x Reader where reader is in heat and Al finds it pathetic but takes pity on them and helps anyway bc like poor thing can't even get their own instincts in control they're obviously hopeless
warnings: 18+!!!NSFW
You thought when you died you would be rid of hormones.
Periods were a pain while living, but this is was worst.
When you were alive, your periods plagued you with mood swings, random cravings, and pain.
Now that you were dead, you didn’t experience the dreadful red flood and raging mood swings; no. Now all you felt was unbelievably horny and needy.
And you hated it.
You usually carried yourself with confidence and elegance.
You usually liked to help around the hotel and were generally friendly with everyone.
You grimaced as you woke up to feel just how drenched your panties were. I really need to stock up on new underwear you thought as you tossed the ruined panties into the hamper.
You usually spent your heats alone and could hide in a hole until you felt normal again. You usually could control yourself well enough til you had enough free time to ease the tension between your legs.
Or until you found a poor sinner.
Weeeeellll that was hard when you lived in a hotel with a ton of shit to do. You really didn’t want to hear Angel’s jabs as you dragged some unfortunate soul to endear your sex rage.
You sighed, hopefully you could get through the next few days without embarrassing yourself completely.
So far so good you thought as you went about your day doing whatever activity Charlie had you do with the group.
Every touch and scent didn’t send your cunt into a tingling frenzy; yes you had to change your panties a few times but nothing crazy.
That was until you were around Alastor.
Your body practically buzzed whenever the tall red demon was in your vicinity.
You first chalked it up to that it was because you did found him attractive and simply thought it would go away.
But your cunt begged a differ.
You squirmed a bit on the couch as Alastor took a seat beside you, clenching your thighs to ease the uncomfortable throbbing.
It didn’t help that he smelled amazing.
Alastor smelled like evergreens how y’all ever smelled Christmas pine??? That shit is delicious!!!!
And you didn’t realized you had took a deep inhale of him until he turned to you
”Is everything alright my dear?” He asked, eyebrows raised.
fuck how were you going to tell him you wanted to bury your nose into his neck and just SNIFF? 
“O-oh I’m f-fine…i-its just you smelled nice?” You wanted to facepalm.
He blinked at you before letting out a laugh “OOooh why thank you my dear” that shit eating grin widened, voice dropping a slight octave“I must smell very enticing if you’re sniffing at me” his eyes narrowed slightly.
A shiver ran through your body and you swear you were leaking through onto the couch. You wanted to die of embarrassment.
“I-I just never noticed before that’s all” You said shrugging, trying to ignore the fact that his very voice was affecting you.
Charlie had ended whatever the hell you were doing and you quickly made your way to your room, causing some confusion.
You were usually a social butterfly with the gang. You never not chat away with Angel as he told the wild shit he did on set.
“Has got to be that time of the month” Angel commented as you almost sprinted out the room. Charlie and Vaggie gave confused looks ”what?” He sighed “You know…” nope not a clue.
”She was a human remember? Every so often her pussy basically shreds itself to bits”
Charlie gasped “So she’s hurt? Shouldn’t we do something?” Angel laughed,shaking his head “Nah we can’t help. But she'll be fine. Just give her a few days and she'll be normal again”
Alastor was in the background listening, the smile on his face sharpened, you weren’t hurt or bleeding, but there was definitely something that could be done.
You snarled as your vibrator died and tossed it. You groaned as your clit continued to throb. You had thought four orgasms would have did the trick but nope you still had the irritating itch.
You didn’t own a dildo because it was pointless.
it wasn’t the real thing.
You wanted to cry. This was your first heat while you’ve been at the hotel and you didn’t just want to drag a stranger here.
You had more control than that.
At least that’s what you thought.
You had locked yourself in your room as you tore your room to bits. The walls were shredded, pillows and sheets drenched in slick and your poor toy was in pieces.
Panting, you curled in a corner and tugged at your hair, squeezing your eyes tight as tears began to pool in your eyes.
You hated this.
 You hated how it felt like you didn’t even feel like yourself. 
Hated that you couldn’t even control your own damn bodily function.
Hated how your body desperately wanted to be filled.
You would give anything to make this horrid feat of yours go away.
“I would have never thought to see you in such a state my dear”
You froze at the voice and jerked your head to the source.
Alastor.
He was standing at the entrance of your bedroom, a smirk on his face as he took in the state of your room.
”I must say, it. Is rather entertaining to see your lack of control” he said as he approached your curled form.
He crouched down, feigning a concerned look before a clawed hand seized your hair and wrenched your face til your noses were bumping against each other.
”did you think I couldn’t smell you?” He growled “You smell just like a bitch in heat”
You whimpered as his lips ghosted over yours “I-I’m sorry”
His scent was surrounding you. It was a drug. Assaulting your every nerve with each breath you took.
He smelled so good 
please
”Please” you whispered as your cunt buzzed, tingling from his clos proximity and in hopes he would have mercy on you.
Alastor sucked his teeth at you. What a pitiful thing you were…
With a deep breathe, he stood and walked over to your ruined bed and sat. You watched as he sat his mic down and removed his coat. Yanking at his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt and looked over at you with narrowed eyes “Well? Do you want to continue to ruin your furnishings or do you wish to satisfy that brazen desire of yours?”
He widened his legs and your eyes honed in on how he unbuckled his pants.
Your throat tightened and you found yourself crawling over to him, no regard that you were naked.
Kneeling between his legs, your hands soothed up his thighs as your rubbed your head against his crotch.
Alastor lifted your chin for your eyes to meet his. Your eyes were blown out and you winced as his grip tightened.
”I pity you my dear, reduced to wanton whore, but don’t fret…Ill help you through your heat” a thumb ran over your pouty lip.
Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words.
You damn near drooled as he adjusted himself to pull his cock free from its restraints.
It was big, in both length and girth. It slapped against your face, causing you to hum at the weight of it.
You nuzzled it, nose gliding along his length before softly pressing kissed along it. When you came to his mushroom tip, you didn’t hesitate to suck at it. Alastor sighed as you gave the head of his cock kitten licks.
Head clouded with desire, you slowly bobbed your head along his length, taking him whole as you gagged once you reached the hilt.
You eased him out your throat and with a sickening pop, you admired as his spit-covered cock shined. You opted to jerk him off slowly as you buried your nose in his ball, inhaling his scent.
Alastor’s hand found your hair and guided you away from his cock, bringing you to climb up his body, until your smoldering heat was rubbing against his cock as he pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. A gasp tore from your throat as he nipped at your jaw.
”On fours my dear”
Clumsily, you scrambled to follow his instruction. You must not have been to his liking because he pressed your head til your cheek was flat to the bed, back in a deep low arch, thighs pressed to your stomach and spreaded wide with your ass and cunt exposed to the air. 
You would have blushed in embarrassment if you weren’t so turned on.
A hand glided down your back, causing you to shiver and then jolt as a harsh slap was planted on your ass, before it soothed over the burning cheek.
Alastor kneaded your ass before sliding his fingers down to your cunt.
Your slit was swollen and your clit, puffy with need. 
You were dripping.
He dipped a finger inside you, testing how wet you were.
Soppy. 
He added a second, your cunt greedily welcomed his fingers with ease, giving into resistance.
He chuckled “What a greedy cunt, sucking in my fingers like a cock”
You whined when he took his fingers out, already missing the feel of something inside you.
Alastor took his cock and rubbed it against your cunt, coating himself in your slick.
”I am going to fuck you to your little sinful heart desires and you are going to be grateful of everything I give you. You are going to take every bit of my cum until it spills from this cunt and then again and again until I have bred you so thoroughly. Do you understand slut?”
You were breathing heavily, trembling in excitement.
With a single, sharp thrust he filled your cunt, earning a soft cry from you.
”Do you understand?”he hissed through clenched teeth.
”Y-Yes A-Alastor”. you whimpered, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.
”Good girl”
He drew back and thrusted into you again
And again
And again
He had set a slow, but rough pace. Thrusting his cock deep into the soft warmth of your cunt with each drag.
Soft moans filled the air as he buried his cock inside you.
It felt so good. 
He reached depths your finger couldn’t quite reach.
And it was amazing.
”A-Ala-stor Aah! Aaah! Hah!” You pushed your hips against his, mewling loudly as he grinned his cock into you.
”Youre pathetic ” He laughed, eyes watching his cock disappeared inside you, giving you a hard thrust at his words.
”Nothing but pathetic slut who can’t control their own body”
His grip on your hips pulled you flushed against him, making you take him til his balls was nestled against your slit.
”You probably would have spreaded your legs for any poor sinner, just wanting to be fucked dumb” Your body rippled as his thrusts got harder.
Your cunt only got wetter.
He noticed as he seemed to sink even deeper into you, as if your cunt loosened to welcome him
”oh? I bet you would have liked that wouldn’t you? So out of sorts with need that you would have just anyone bred this cunt”
He growled at the squelching noises from your cunt, you shook your head in denial.
No. No you wouldn’t haven’t done something like that.
”N-no I-I wouldn’t-” You cried out as his finger ghosted over your swollen clit.
”You would have been happy to bend over and offer your cunt to anyone, as long as you had a cock fill you” Alastor continued before a cruel, deep laugh erupted from him
”But instead you sought me out. I had no intention in satisfying you, but what a gentleman would i had been if I ignored a lady in need?” You felt him lean over, hips never missing a beat as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.
”Oooh how fortunate you are my dear”
You were suddenly flipped onto your back. Hair sprawled around you like a halo, your chest heaving as he pushed your knees to your chin. 
Your lidded eyes watching as he slide his cock between your pussy lips, bumping your clit. He grabbed your wrists, using them as leverage as he thrusted back into you, the new angle making your throw your head back with a broken cry
”FuuuuuUccckk Ah Ah AH!” His hips dug into the underside of your ass as he pounded your cunt.
Alastor hadn’t lost composure the entire time he fucked you.
He watched as you fell apart, your hips wiggling to accommodate to his harsh administrations.
Your cunt took him so good. A white, creamy ring formed at his base as he scraped against that sponges nerve inside you.
You welcomed him gratefully. Letting him wrench pleasurable sounds from your pretty lips.
Pushing your raised legs apart, he lowered his weight on you as he slammed his lips on yours, swallowing your moans. Your tongues danced as he rocked into your body.
The sounds of him ruining your cunt pushed him to fulfill your primal desire.
You felt that familiar blaze of heat take over your body as Alastor fucked short rapid thrusts into you.
Every brush of his abdomen against your clit had your cunt going haywire.
You were going to cum.
Alastor was going to make you cum.
You moaned at the thought
You were gonna cum on his cock
And he was gonna breed you
Breed your soppy cunt
and you were going to let him
”please….” You whined into his mouth
Fuck the very thought had your body buzzing.
”please what?” he purred
Your head was reeling, foggy with the need to be filled.
A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing
“What are you begging me for slut? Hmm?” His strokes were hitting harder and deeper.
”You want me to breed your cunt? You want to me to fill you up so good that all you’ll ever think is how my cum belongs inside you? What do the little slut want?”
Yes you wanted all of it.
You wanted him to fuck you so good, you wouldn’t even think of wanting another cock from his.
You wanted him to fill your cunt to the brim and then fuck it back inside.
You wanted him to breed you like the little slut you were.
To breed you til he had his fill.
Your instincts had practically took over, fuck sanity.
”Mhmm! I want it. I want you to Ah! I want you to fill me with your cum! Please please breed me Alastor” You whined, feeling your belly clench as your orgasm hung over you, promising sweet relief.
The hand around your throat, tightened causing you to gasp as he spoke into your ear, voice deep and purring
”Youre gonna make yourself cum on my cock slut”
your hand flew to your clit to flick fast circles on the bud.
Alastor’s thrusts quickened, growls pouring from his lips
”Who’s a filthy little slut?”
”M-Me”
”Whos a pathetic slut that’s gonna take my cum?”
”Me!”
”Fucking slut gonna let be breed her dumb”
A sob tore from you as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you as you milked him, hips angled to thrusts so deep you’re sure your cunt had molded into the shape of his cock
”hah hah aaah fuuucckk fuck fuck Al-Alastor!”
You saw white as your mouth opened in a silent scream only for him to swallow the whine in your throat.
”That’s it you pathetic slut take it. Take my cum. That’s a good girl. Let me breed this sweet cunt cher” your hips raised as he sunk into you and with a deep groan, he cummed into your spasming cunt, making sure to thrust deep enough he hit your cervix as he painted your walls white.
Whether conscious or by instinct, you gave him a ditzy smile, eyes glazed over as you slowly rubbed your clit, whimpering. Holding eye contact with him, a soft pout graced your lips
“Again”
You truly were a pathetic, needy little thing.
But don’t worry pretty Doe, Alastor’s going to make sure you
satisfied and stuffed to your heart’s content
 It was going to be very interesting for the next 36 hours…
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