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#but i HAD to tell and let them know i love the work they done dubbing it so here we go!
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Babying Azriel Headcanon
Azriel x reader
A/n: just some hc about showing Az some love. I’ve missed writing just for Azzy so enjoy this
Warnings: none
In public and in front of the IC Azriel is very affectionate with you
He does not shy away from PDA
But behind closed doors this male CLINGS to you
Like he is so in love with you it’s not even funny and you make sure Az knows he is loved
You basically pavloved him into needing your touch
You always throw our self at him when he comes him, jumping into his arms and telling him how happy you are to have him home and in your arms
He doesn’t move from the entry way unless he sees you running at him
Az does understand that you won’t always be home when he gets there and he does come home late some nights
He does get sad when you can’t hug him first thing though
Whenever he frowns it breaks your heart. You always have to fix that immediately
Az came home from Windhaven with his brothers one evening, just in time for dinner. Nyx had ran up to his dad and uncle with you trailing not far behind. You waited until the little boy greeted them for you to throw yourself at Az. He looked so worn down you considered not throwing yourself into his arms. Once Az saw you his face lit up! He stood ready, arms open and knees bent a little, ready to pick you up and hold you tight to his chest.
You launch yourself at him, jumping and wrapping your arms and legs around Azriel. “Azzy! I missed you!” You place kisses all over his face. He doesn’t care that Cassian and Rhys are watching. Azriel basks in your love and attention. Once you’re done he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your calming scent. Cass and Rhys’s jaws drop as you talk to him in a babying voice that you use when you’re alone. You just can’t help it!
Kisses kisses kisses all of the kisses for Az always!
Frowning? Kisses all over his face until he’s giddy
Before bed kisses or he cannot sleep
Sometimes you’ll jokingly forget, just rolling over and saying goodnight sweetly. “AH” Az yells, “where is my goodnight kiss little miss?” You giggle, “Huh? What are you talking about?” Az pulls you on top of him and he kisses you hard, never letting up until you hold him back
Morning kisses and goodbye kisses before he leaves for training/work. “Bye Azzy, I love you.” You say pecking his lips quickly. Az isn’t fully satisfied with your little peck, pulling you by your waist flush to his front he kisses you deeply
You’re the own who’s supposed to flustering him! When he lets go your cheeks are pink and you’re out of breath, waving goodbye as he sends you a wink while leaving
Packing him lunch if he’s out all day even if it’s just at the house of wind
You add a note with his food telling him how much you love him
Az swears his teeth are going to fall out if you keep baking him treats. But he would be so sad if you ever stopped baking or packing him lunches with little notes he would cry his eyes out
You make sure all of his weapons are clean and organized
I know for a fact Azriel likes things clean and organized and if he had a label maker he would use the shit out of it
When he comes home from long missions you don’t let him lift a finger! That is unacceptable, he’s just spent days Mother knows where, in an uncomfortable spot and is disgusting
You always have a bath ready for him along with a towel that you warmed by the fire
You wash his hair and massage his neck and shoulders. He washes himself though, he doesn’t want you doing all of the work
Most nights you insist on him laying on top of you because you like holding him close and running your fingers through his silky hair
When he’s sick Azriel really plays it up just to get more attention from you
You make him soup and tea, you even spoon feed him while he lays in bed
“I think I’m warm will you feel my forehead?” Az knows full well he’s burning up from his small fever he just wants to feel your cool hand on his skin. You make sure to touch his forehead and cup his cheeks
You tuck him in making sure he’s all warm and snuggly
When he’s feeling better he still acts sick for an extra day because he isn’t ready to leave the comfort of your care just yet
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prongsiepotter · 2 days
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down bad | j. potter
summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you
pairing: james potter x reader
warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it
a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x
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"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.
"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.
"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."
You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.
Even if that guy is James Potter.
James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.
Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.
"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.
He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.
He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.
She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.
You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.
You almost let out a sob.
A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?
History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.
You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.
Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.
Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.
Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.
Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.
You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.
That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.
Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.
James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.
It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.
He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.
James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.
You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.
You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.
"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.
"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.
"I will always need you, Y/N."
Somehow he makes it sound genuine.
Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.
Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.
Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?
James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.
You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.
It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.
And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.
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kyunzin · 2 days
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𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
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✰ characters ✰ 𝐘. 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧
✰ summary ✰ don’t say things you don’t mean, unless you do mean them. in that case eren can fulfil all your requests (f!reader)
✰ tags/warnings ✰ nsfw, ex!eren, alcohol use, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, cum eating, squirting. praise kink, overstimulation, pussy licking
✰ kyun’s note ✰ it’s been long overdue, two long fics in a row is tough gang dont do this at home. also sorry for any spelling mistakes i am sleep derived
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it was definitely a good idea to go out with the girls
it was probably a bad idea to not send eren home with all the drinks you had earlier clouding your judgment
it was absolutely going to hurt in the morning but that is the last thing that's on your mind right now it will be a problem for later
you and eren had gotten together in high school and stayed together for the duration of high school. the both of you being fairly well known though he was more popular than you were.
the both of you had different passions and wanted to peruse different careers. him wanting to play basketball professionally and you didn’t really want to have a boring 9-5 either so you chose to be an influencer.
you both supported each other and both of you became very successful in what you did. eren signing with a good team and you having nearly up to a million followers. you made sure to go to every one of his games and he would be sure to mention you on his socials and even point to you at games.
the two of you even had a child together who both of your fans adored. you had him early in both of your careers and had enough money to support him growing up, the two of you thought that you would be able to live the rest of your lives as a family.
that was until about 4 years later when eren’s schedule became to hectic and he spent more time practicing and being out of the country for games to even be home with you, there was a gradual build up to that which you thought you could get through but in the end you realised it was too much for you and he accepted that.
in the end the both of you decided to spilt apart as is was just too much on you. both of your fan bases were sad to see their favourite couple break apart but you assured them that it was mutual and the two of you ended on good terms, deep down you still loved him but you let him go knowing it was for the better.
eren always made sure to send money to support both him and you even though you told him that he didnt need to send you money as well. he also did regular calls to check in to see how the both of you were doing, and when he was back in the country he made sure to see you if he could spending time with his son and even you.
you know he loved his son from the way he would always get souvenirs from countries when he was out and even got some jerseys from his sons favourite players even if he did pout complaining because he wasn’t his favourite.
this went on for about a year and it worked really well for the three of you, your sons fifth birthday passed with eren doing his all to be there buying him an expensive gift that your son absolutely loved. eren had lately had been spending more time over due to the season, there not being a lot of games and you decided you wanted to go out since it had been a while.
eren has said he would take care of your son while you went out with your friends saying that you deserved the time to have fun. he took your son over to his house so that you could get ready in peace telling you he would keep him for the weekend so you could relax.
once the both of them had left the house you called both sasha and mikasa telling them the plans and they decided to come over to help you get ready. they arrived soon with their things and the three of you started to get ready.
you had your hair and make up done all that was left was your outfit. you had no idea what to wear as it had been a long time since you had gotten dressed up like this, the girls made their way to you closet and started picking through your stuff looking for something for you to wear.
being pregnant had made big changes to you body which left you feeling less than confident after your giving birth but as the years went by some changes left and some stayed. for one your tits and ass filled out as well as you hips getting wider giving you a near hourglass figure.
you were pretty self conscious about your body but everyone around you encouraged you to embrace your new body as they said it made you look sexy and you believed them, looking at yourself differently you loved your new self.
the girls had picked out a dress you don’t even remember buying. a long-sleeve red dress that stopped just under you ass with red cross slits trailing down the side exposing some skin. you paired it with a classic set of black heels and a red bag to match.
the other two were also ready when you had finished getting dressed so you made sure you had everything you needed and sasha drove you to the club blasting music all the way there.
you got into the flub with no problem all of you being over the required age and the three of you went to get drinks to start your night off, weaving your way through the bustling crowd and over to the bar where you all order your first round of drinks keeping you tab open just in case you want to get more.
you and mikasa take a few more shots sasha only having a few being your designated driver for the night not that she really needed any as she would be asked to have just as much fun either way. after you finished your drinks the three of you moved over into the dancing crowd losing yourselves to the music.
you swung your body to the beat of the music sasha in front and mikasa behind you, your as shaking with every sway of your hips. you could tell that many men wanted to join you but you could see both of the girls pushing the away as they know about your lingering feelings for eren.
the song changes and you recognise it as ‘mad at me by sexxy red’ realising that you know the lyrics and you start singing it along with the others in the room, knowing it lyric for lyric shaking your ass to the beat people around you dancing to the music.
when the next line come on you shout it out like there's no tomorrow “fuck me like you mad at me baby, I need a freak to drive me crazy!” and you sing the rest of the song with the same passion until it finishes and you’re out of breath.
the next song plays and you feel all the energy you had from before now depleted and decide to go pay for your last drink of the night leaving sasha and mikasa on the dance floor.
it didn’t take long for you to reach the bar and pay but on your way back to the girls some one stopped you trying to pull you for a dance. but you quickly pushed them away not in the mood walking to your friends even faster.
you get to the girls in record speed in no time though all the remaining energy you had no completed, the girls notice this and decide it’s time for you all to go home.
you drip mikasa home first knowing she has to go to bed for work in the morning. and then sahsa takes you back to your house with you dozing off on the way back. you didn’t even realise that you had faleen asleep until you felt sasha gently shake you awake.
thanking her for the ride home you wish her a safe journey back walking up to your front door, stumbling on the short walk due to the alcohol still flowing in your system. checking the time to see that it was almost past midnight and you know that your son should have gone to bed ages ago feeling bad that you couldn’t tell him goodnight.
when you walk in it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the light which you were sure you turned off when you left, squinting only to see a figure sitting on the couch. you take off your heels setting them to the side and look up to see the figure still there.
once your eyes get accustomed to the light you realise that’s it’s eren sitting there who has been sitting there staring up at you since you walked in, and you think maybe you’re just hallucinating from the alcohol in your system but upon further inspection you realise that he’s actually there.
“eren? what are you doing here? where’s my baby?”
for a second he doesn’t say anything and just eyes you up but then he speaks up.
“c’mere here baby”
the space between you brows crease at the pet name but you move towards him nonetheless, coming to stand up in from of him looking down at him.
“I dropped him off at my mums place, don’t worry about him for now”
he gently pulls you down to straddle you making your dress ride up a little bit, leaving the two of you face to face. you don’t instantly question his actions but your face conveys your confusion, but instead of saying anything he just sits there rubbing slowly up and down your thighs spread over him.
“what’s going on, is something wrong?”
but instead of answering your question he laughs and pulls out his phone swiping though as if looking for something.
“how about you tell me what this is about first”
you’re confused at first but then once the video starts playing your eyes widen in shock. it’s a video of you in the club singing to “mad at me” shouting the lyrics to the song.
“wanna explain this to me”
he’s still smiling as he says it and you know there's no way to get out of this. there's no possible excuse he would believe after seeing that, which brings up the question of where he got it from.
“who took this video and how do you have it”
he turns off his phone slipping it back into his joggers the action causing you to shift in too of him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as to not fall off him.
“it was posted online and someone sent it to me, and don't try change the subject. what’s this about you wanting to fuck. if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so princess. you know i never say no to you baby”
in truth it had been a while since you were active, though it was mainly because of your lack of time due to taking care of you son as well as working.
part of it had to do with the fact that no dock would be able to compare to eren's. the way he would fuck you was to good for you to ever try it with anyone else.
you had kind of missed this intimate part of your relationship, you knew eren wasn’t the type of guy to sleep around and you are sure if he did you would have found out by now and you didn’t want to seem to desperate by asking him about his life without you as you respected his privacy as he did yours.
“why you silent for pretty, aint got nothing to say or did you really mean what you said. what was it again, you wanted me to fuck you like I was mad at you cause I can do that baby if it’s what you want, do you want that?”
as you contemplate your answer you notice his hands don’t stop but smile drops a serious look falls over his face. he probably knows that your drunk and no os giving you a way out of this.
knowing him if you said no he would step back and act as if it didn’t happen. the thing is that you do want this to happen, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re just really pent up and horny but you don’t see a reason to decline his offer.
you nod your head to agree but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that hands stopping to grip at your thighs squeezing them lightly.
“no princess, I need words. you say yes we continue. say no and I’ll take you to bed and go back home, answer me properly”
knowing this is your last chance to back out you appreciate his efforts in order to confirm your consent and it just gives you even more reason to say yes, knowing that he’s being respectful even though he couldn’t have done what he wanted knowing you have no way of defending yourself in this state.
“yes eren, I want this. I want you. fuck me please, i need you“
you hardly have time to register what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and making his way to your old shared bedroom. you wrap you legs around his firm torso and cling onto him tighter, even though you know that there no way he will drop you.
“only since you asked me so nicely, I’ll give you what you need don’t worry baby”
the two of you reach the bed room in record speed and eren gently sets you down on the edge of the bed kneeling down in front of you both of his hands still on the side of your thighs looking up at you with a mischievous grin.
his mouth latches onto you barely clothed sex sucking on your clit in a way that has you gasping out in ecstasy. it’s no lie to say that eren knows every inch of your body inside and out. he knows all the things that make you squirm and scream. where to touch and lick as well as h to e spots indie you that make your arch into his touch.
he moves on from sucking on your clit like a mad man thirsting for water and moves down to you dripping whole, sinking his tongue into your tight heat that hadn’t had any attention for a while. not that there weren’t a few visits from your bullet vibrator it just couldn’t make you cum the way you did when eren would fuck you.
“fuck, she really missed me didn’t she ma?”
the way he’s talking to your pussy has you rolling your eyes, but they then roll for a different reason as he adds one finger teasing his way inside of you alongside his hot tongue. “oh fuck, ‘ren don’t stop please” your hand reaches for his head gripping his hair causing it to fall loose as you pull his face further into your cunt.
both his tongue and fingers pistoling into you at a harsh pace so he not surprised when you end up cumming into his mouth as he starts to suck on your clit. he doesn’t stop scissoring his fingers inside you until you stop cumming and your moans die out, though your legs still tremble slightly due to the force of your orgasm.
“we aint done yet princess, you said you wanted to be fucked right and that’s what you’ll get. flip over”
you may be a bit drunk but that doesn’t stop you from turning over at the speed of light making you a bit lightheaded but you do regret it as you miss when eren pulls of his top and steps out his trousers and boxers, kneeling back behind you slapping his cock against your ass cheeks.
“you ready for me baby?”
he watches as you nod your head eagerly and lines his cock up with your pussy sliding in with predicted ease, filling out all the way to the hilt. both of you let out moans of pleasure “fuck- I missed you” you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy but you’re to full and stretched out to care. it would be an understatement to say that you also missed the fill of his cock. it was more like the longer you were apart the more you craved to feel him.
he was feeling sympathetic knowing that it had been a while since you had fuck him, or anyone for that matter, but when you start to rock back into him letting out small mewls of pleasure he decides not to hold back. “such a desperate whore, you cant wait to fuck yourself on my cock huh?” his words are accompanied by a hard slap to your ass causing your movements to stagger with a loud moan of “f-fuck, you’re taking too long”
he lets you move as you please for a few more moments before growing impatient and gripping your waist slamming his hips into yours. “d-daddy- fuckk!” you cant see it but you can hear the smirk as he says “you like it when daddy fucks you like this don’t you?” as he sends another harsh thrust you way, rocking the bed with the force of his thrust.
he continues with his timely thrust with the occasional slap to your ass, oscillating between that or squeezing it in both hands and playing with the fat. he can feel the way you clam down on him when he does that, knowing your body inside and out plays well in is favour, not so much in yours.
he spares no energy with is thrusts as he knows you like it when he's rough with you, fucking you into the soft sheets wit vigour, deep strokes hitting your cervix every time, the tip brushing against your sweet spot on every quick roll of his hips.
he's not surprised when he begins to hear your familiar slurred pleas of " daddy please. 's too much. slow down" to which he does the opposite and uses one and to steady your waist and the other one to hold your neck keeping your back arced "remember, you asked for this princess," your unable to move, sheets bunched up in your hands, hips held high by him, face pressed into the bed.
"made it loud and clear waat you wanted and now im giving it to you"
the slick sounds of sex circulate the room, your nonsensical moans bouncing off the walls in the room along with his skin slapping against yours as he hammers is cock into your dripping pussy. "since you asked for it m sure you can take it like a good girl cant you? noting you havent done before"
you can feel is cock start to pulse inside you and you know that he's close , and you're on the verge of release, with the way eren's pounding into you you doubt you'll be able to last much longer as well as the fact that its been ages since your last fuck, which was eren.
"next time you want something, just fucking ask"
the last three words of his sentence are each punctuated with a harsh trust, sending you over the edge as you begin to squirt all over is cock and onto the sheets below you. he can feel the way your pussy spasms around is cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down to ease you through it.
"that's it cum on daddy's cock, its all fucking yours baby, nobody can have me but you"
its only a couple more languid trusts until he's spilling is hot seed inside you with a groan of your name on his lips, hips stuttering as his grip tightens enough in a way you're sure will leave marks in the morning, body doubling over your trembling frame while he locks his hips with yours, emptying is tick load deep into your pussy.
only wen he's sure that there's no more does e finally pull out of your near limp body and gently rolls you over onto your back. peppering kisses down your torso till he settles between your legs were he begins to suck the cum out of you, causing your legs to clam around is head.
"nononono- fuck. i cant, s too much no more."
he's relentless not stopping even as your and tug at his air, pushing is tongue deep into your pussy and licking your mixed juices out of you. "just one more baby, i know you can give it to me" he's not wrong as only a second after he presses his thumb to your clit, you're cumming for the third time that evening shaking in is hold.
after tat e makes sure to clean you out as best as he can, dressing you into comfortable clothes. after cleaning himself he carries you to the guest bedroom and tucks you in deciding to leave until you reach out to him pulling him back.
he ends up wit is arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath is, drifting into a deep sleep. you're sure that in the morning the two of you will have a lot of things to talk about.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍
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luveline · 12 hours
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
Text
red || jenni hermoso x reader ||
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you ask jenni to stop.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.
it's not really smutty, but still.
jenni's hands were gripping your hips so tightly that you swore you could feel the bruises forming already. she had been rough with you all day, starting before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. then, it had been more of a playful rough housing. now, she was thrusting her hips into you as hard as she could to make sure that you could feel every inch of her.
it wasn't what you had expected whenever she had taken you back to the bedroom. you were no stranger to jenni's moods, but she wasn't usually this rough for no reason. jenni wasn't jealous, nobody had been around either one of you today. it had been a bit of a lazy day, with the exception of jenni trying to annoy you throughout the afternoon. if anything, you should have been the one to be a bit aggressive in bed.
and in a way, you had been. you had held jenni's head down in between your legs earlier. that wasn't enough to warrant jenni fucking you like this though. it was fairly indulgent, and usually, you'd be fine with that, but it didn't feel right.
"jenni, red. i'm red," you whined. it was quiet, just barely a whisper. you hated interrupting jenni whenever she was focused, but you couldn't take any more. a part of you had said it so quietly that you thought she wouldn't hear you, but jenni was pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back as quickly as she could.
"what's wrong?" jenni asked immediately. her eyes were wide with fear, and you immediately were engulfed in guilt. you hated making jenni feel bad, especially whenever you didn't even know what was wrong. "did i hurt you?"
"n-no, it's not that," you reassured her. jenni looked absolutely distraught as she mentally combed over every little thing she had done that day. you had been a bit snappy with her before dinner, but that wouldn't have caused this. jenni had apologized to you long before the two of you made your way back here.
"is there anything that i can get or do for you?" jenni asked you. she was gentle as she reached towards you. you let her hand come to rest on your arm. slowly, jenni began to pull you into her arms. you hummed happily at the feeling of her holding you. it was soft and nice in all the ways that you realized that you had been craving jenni.
"i'm sorry," you apologized. jenni pulled back a bit. there was a puzzled look on her face. her eyebrows were furrowed deeply as she pouted a little. it was something you usually would have teased her about, rubbing out the furrow as you joked about wrinkles. tonight, you didn't feel like joking, instead going straight for clarity. "i stopped us. i don't think i can keep going. i'm sorry, jenni."
"you have nothing to apologize for, my vida. i'm sorry for not paying better attention to you, okay?" jenni pulled back just enough to force you to look at her.
"but you wanted this. it's been so long," you whispered.
"you tell me to stop, and we stop. i don't care what's happening. all i care about is you. do you understand me?" jenni asked you. you nodded, having completely understood her words. whether or not you took them to heart was a completely different thing. "i need to hear you say it and mean it."
"you care about me. if i need to stop, it's okay to tell you. you won't be mad, because you care." it wasn't word for word, which jenni appreciated. the two of you had been working on properly communicating needs, something that jenni felt was testing her patience. she didn't understand how someone so lovely and caring could be so unkind to themselves.
"thank you. i love you," jenni muttered against your forehead as she pressed a kiss to it.
"i love you too," you told her. jenni was absolutely beaming at your words, and you didn't have to see her to know. the way that she shook you a little as she hugged you told you everything that you needed to know. "what now?"
"that, my dear, is up to you. what would you like to happen?" jenni asked you. you thought a lot about it before deciding on just laying back with her. jenni got out of bed and grabbed some clothes for the two of you. she fished through her side of the closet for a sweatshirt for you to sleep in, along with the softest pair of underwear that jenni could find. you happily accepted the boxer briefs, not commenting on jenni only grabbing a sports bra for herself.
"can you hold me please?" you knew not to be nervous, but it wasn't easy for you to ask for things. jenni smiled as she climbed into bed with you, clad in a black sports bra and a pair of grey joggers. you were pretty sure that the pants were yours since they were both a little loose and too short on jenni.
"of course. i'll always hold you. you don't even have to ask." jenni pressed a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you positioned yourselves comfortably. you laid with your head on jenni's chest and your leg thrown over her body. she was completely trapped between the bed and your body, covered by the comforter, just how she liked it. "good night, mi amor."
"night jenni," you hummed happily.
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blindmagdalena · 3 days
Text
Guilty Pleasures ( chapter four )
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18+ 5.2k homelander x plus size f!reader. office romance, stalking, voyeurism, office sex, cunnilingus, cream pie, breast play, flight sex, lite overstim, riding. nebulously takes place post s1. part 4/4. AO3 link. CH I CH 2 CH 3
Homelander takes what's his, and you get what's yours.
welcome to the final chapter! thanks so much for reading. i really enjoyed the dynamic between these two, and i hope you do, too. 🖤
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Homelander doesn’t hold it against you that you take him up on his suggestion to be absent the following day. He leaves a little peace offering in your office to say as much: a mug for your collection that reads simply, You’ve Been Mugged. He adjusts it seven times on your desk before he finally leaves it alone, surveying your office a while before letting himself out.
The thugs he lasered down in the alley don’t garner much attention, but it’s enough to warrant a statement on the truth of what happened. With them dead, the truth becomes whatever he makes of it, and his truth is that two vagabonds were assaulting a cherished Vought employee before he put a stop to it.
It’s precisely the kind of hero story the public loves.
“I acted on instinct,” he tells the newscaster. He relives the moment as he tells it, recalls only to himself how fierce you had been. How determined you were that if you were going to die, you would die fighting. “They were going to hurt her. I like to believe any good citizen in my position would have done the same.”
Madelyn taught him that conviction without contrition would always read as arrogance, so he speaks firmly but with a furrow to his brow, and he closes his eyes when he inclines his head to accept praise. No matter how dead she is, her voice remains an echo in his mind: follow the script, and you’ll be fine.
They use his words to segue into a discussion of gun control, and Homelander’s mind drifts somewhere distant, hearing without listening to the petty squabbles of humans crying about their little toys and laws. He supposes this is how God feels when humans pray to Him over every minor inconvenience. Bored and painfully above it.
While it’s easy enough to keep himself distracted during business hours, Homelander’s life comes to an abrupt halt alongside the end of the working day. Like the equipment that broadcasts him, there’s little use for him once the cast and crew goes home. All around him the employees commiserate at the end of their work day and pass around invitations to the bar. 
He receives none. 
Not that he would accept them if he did.
Seeking both council and companionship, Homelander finds himself in Noir’s apartment, seated in the chair Noir keeps for him. It’s the only one the hero owns, what with his interior design being deeply steeped in westernized ninja nonsense. The place is half dojo, half living quarters.
He laments his situation to Noir, explaining his patience in courting you, the lengths he’s gone to endear himself to you on a personal level, and the bitter sting of your rejection.
“See her,” Noir writes in his sketchpad, sitting on the floor on the other side of the low table. “If glad to see her, good. If not–”
Homelander snorts at the series of knife sketches that follow. He has no doubt Noir would put an end to anyone for any reason Homelander gave. Simplicity has allowed Noir an unwavering loyalty to Vought, and as an extension, Homelander himself. Luckily for you, he has no interest in that happening. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Noir,” he muses, clapping his hands on his thighs before he stands up. “You’re right. I’ll go see her. Thanks, buddy.”
Noir offers two thumbs up. A true uproar of approval.
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Under the cover of darkness, Homelander returns to your house, the flight path a familiar one now. He lands silently on your roof this time, cocking his head. He’s not confident he’ll be able to resist your siren pull if he approaches now. He folds his hands behind his back and peers through each layer between him and your bedroom, stopping when he can see you.
You’re nestled deep in the splay of your blankets, lips parted around shallow breaths. He bites his own bottom lip, remembering how badly he’d wanted to feel them. Taste them. He’s certain now that if he allowed himself to be close enough, he would. Denial, for as much as it stung in that moment, has only made him hungrier for you. Fuck, the way he’s craved you from the moment you first brushed him aside.
He watches you shift in your sleep and his eyes narrow, honing in on a familiar flash. His stomach flips–it’s his cape, the fabric pinned between your blanket and your body. You really are sleeping with it, the star spangled blue fabric tucked up under your chin. Do you smell him on it? Homelander groans softly. Like your underwear in his bedside drawer, you sleep with a trophy of your own.
“Fuck,” he says, aching. His heart, his mind, his cock–all of it at once a cacophony of vicious yearning and impatience. The urge to peel the roof like a sardine can and carve his way straight to you nearly knocks the wind out of him, has him preemptively reaching for the shingled surface.
Only the lingering wound to his ego gives him pause. He’s been bitten once, leaving him shy to instigate, but this revelation feels like progress. You’re aching for him as much as he is for you. He’s sure of that now. It’s time that he made you feel that ache. Feel his absence. Then you’ll realize the foolishness of your coy game.
Clenching his jaw defiantly, Homelander lifts up into the sky.
He’ll be benevolent when you come to your senses.
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The next day, Homelander keeps himself scarce, preoccupied. Ashley is perkier than usual, thrilled–if not suspicious–with his easy participation in whatever inane business she brings to him. It helps distract him from the endless feeling of waiting that he’s enduring.
He sticks stubbornly to his schedule, fantasizing about the torment his avoidance has surely wrought. He’s tempted a time or two to break, but each time he remembers the mortified Oh! you uttered before he kissed you, he refocuses himself.
You’ll come.
Not before lunch, but that is the perfect opportunity for it. He makes himself more available then, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair. 
No sign of you.
He gives you the benefit of the doubt. A meal to embolden you.
Then you’ll come.
He waits.
Lunch long since over.
He waits.
The day is winding down.
He’s fucking tired of waiting.
Where the hell are you? He’s given you the entirety of the day to seek him out, ample opportunity to come thank him for his gift, to address the aching thing ruminating between you. You’d be a fucking liar to say you don’t feel it, too. By midday, he’s seething with impatience and hurt. There’s no chance he’s going to let you stand him up.
It’s precisely the wrong time for Ashley to rear her head back up. “Okay! That’s that, now regarding the amnesty for–”
“Ashley!” He snaps, a harsh and throaty sound. “Would you shut the fuck up?”
She stops in her tracks, staring wide-eyed. Of course it was too good to be true.
Homelander all but leaps to his feet, pushing out of his chair so hard that it flips backwards and into the wall in a heavy clatter. She clutches her vPad to her chest and quickly back steps out of his way, watching in frightened bewilderment as he storms from the room, making a beeline towards your office.
He doesn’t bother knocking this time. Still, his restraint is undeniable when he pushes your door open. He barely catches himself from pushing the damn thing clean off the hinges.
Your head snaps up from your computer, eyes wide. He hears your heart jump and he savors the alarm that shoots through you. Payback for the awful misery you forced him to endure in the hours since he last saw you. Still, the sight of you disarms him. For all his seething anger, there is something small in him that retreats it when your eyes are on him.
There’s a heaviness to your gaze that his strength can do nothing to alleviate. No incredible feat of his can wrench away what it is he wants from you. What he needs. It’s something you have to give him willingly, and that alone is enough to temper his rage. The familiar fear that you won’t.
He marches to the front of your desk and levels an accusatory finger on you.
“You like me,” he hisses, bending to brace his opposite hand on your desk.
You blink owlishly, lips parted. That clearly wasn’t what you expected him to say. He’s not sure it’s what he meant to say. “Homelander��”
“No,” he says, voice pitched low, a warning. “No, no. No games, no workarounds. You like me. You do. And I like you. So,” he abandons his point to make a vague encompassing gesture, but he doesn’t know what to say next. He didn’t think this far ahead. All day he had practiced the calm benevolence he would show when you approached him, chastised and yearning. He has nothing to back up this frenzied play for.
You stand. Homelander rises to his full height with you, jutting his chin out. He watches you with all the wariness of a wounded predator as you circle around your desk, your hand gliding along the wood like you would flank a horse so as not to spook it.
He can’t determine the intent behind your gaze. He angles his body towards you, facing you head on. You look like yourself again, in your element and free from the fawn fear of the alley. He can’t entirely decide which way he prefers you. When you were in his arms, he was your hero. In your office, his position feels more precarious.
The silence stretches on for hours–or seconds, it’s impossible to say–before he can no longer stand it. Sucking in a breath, he–
You kiss him.
Homelander goes shock still, hyper aware of your lips pressed feather light to his, your breasts against his chest, your hand on his forearm. He doesn’t know when he closed his eyes, but he senses when you begin to pull away. 
In a flash he cups your face in his hands and pulls you in deep, inhaling sharply, like  he’s only just remembered how to breathe. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you as if he can trap you in the cycle of it. You don’t resist, you don’t tense. Instead, you sigh an angel’s breath against his lips. Only then does he break to look at you.
“I don’t understand,” he says, bewildered, flushed.
“I do like you,” you say, eyes glassy.
His brows pinch. “But… That night–”
“Wasn’t right,” you interrupt. “I wanted to kiss you, but not like that. Not then. Not because you saved me, not because I was in shock, not because of…” you rock your head side to side. “Whatever other bullshit… You let me down that night.”
“Let you down?” Homelander echoes, taken aback. “By saving your life?” He asks, his temper a perpetual simmer ready to flare. He’s immediately tempered by your hands taking his wrists, squeezing. You hold his gaze and your expression is gentle, but there is a firmness in your stare that he finds intoxicating. Not an ounce of fear, even when his anger emerges.
Good. You shouldn’t be afraid of him. He saved you.
“I was shaken. Badly. My date was an entitled asshole, those men, they tried to…” You shake your head, holding his hands to your face. “I didn’t need you to be a man. I needed you to be a hero. I wasn’t ready.”
A light in Homelander’s eyes flicks on. You just weren’t ready. He’d been right after all. He fixates on that, choosing to forgive you for that, at least.
“Well, why didn’t… You could have said something,” he says, feeling like a deflated hot air balloon, all slack expansion and heat with no purpose.
“I would have,” you say, your cheeks soft and round in his hands, lips slightly puckered from his hold on your face. “But you ran away.”
“What? I–” He laughs incredulously. “I did not run away.”
“Flew away,” you say, pushing in to kiss him again. He screws his eyes shut. Fuck, fuck. Oh fuck. He’s been dreaming of this, aching for it. To feel you against him, wanting him as much as he wants you. “Pretty fast, too. Looked like you shot straight up to the moon,” you say, breath hot and sweet on his lips.
“I…” He swallows, hands slipping down to either side of your neck, thumbs tilting your chin up. “I’m sorry. I wanted you,” he says, trailing his parted lips along your jaw, kissing and breathing you in the way he’s craved to. He can feel your skin growing hot against his lips, hear the uptick of your pulse as your heart begins to race.
“Do you still want me?” You ask, voice lower now. It sends a delicious hot pang all the way through him.
“You have no fucking idea,” he murmurs, nipping at the lobe of your ear, desperate to test the give of you under his teeth, the feel of your soft and yielding flesh branded into his memory the moment his lips touched your skin.
A knock snaps his attention away from you, but it isn’t at the door. He looks down and sees that it’s you knocking on your desk. “So take me,” you say, voice laced with heat. His lips split into a wicked grin. He snatches the edge of your heavy wooden desk and effortlessly tips it backwards until everything slides off of it, clattering to the floor. He lifts you up, relishing your delighted little yelp, and places you down on the cleared surface like a doll, stepping in between your legs. 
He kisses you again. Let me in, demands the press of his tongue. You yield to him, but it’s far from a surrender. Your tongue meets his eagerly, tasting him as much as he does you. Tasting you. That’s what he wants. He wants to map every inch of you with his tongue.
Homelander slips his hand between your legs, pushing your skirt up out of the way. He presses his fingers to the heat between your thighs, rubbing through the thin fabric of your panties. You sigh that same seraphic sound against his lips, slipping your hands up into his hair, already taking a handful of it to tug gently.
He breaks the kiss and takes his fingers from you after the barest tease of pleasure. The impatient sound you make goes straight to his cock, as does your flustered expression. He brings his fingers to his lips and drags his tongue over the leather of them, sliding them past his lips to give a quick suck. It’s not enough, too slight a hint of you. He needs more. You watch him with rapt attention, giving his hair a demanding little tug.
“You can pull as hard as you like,” he tells you with a smile, tilting his head against the grasp you have on his hair. “Tells me I’m doing a good job.”
“I’ll tell you when you’re doing a good job,” you rasp, giving his hair a sharp pull and then a downward push. That sends a shiver down his spine.
Fuck yes.
Homelander sinks down onto his knees, lifting each of your legs up over his shoulders. You give a little gasp when he yanks your ass to the edge of the desk, giddy with the way he manhandles you. He swallows, mouth dry, thirsty for the wet, heady smell of your pussy. He maneuvers his head under your skirt until he’s close enough to drag his tongue up the soft cotton of your panties. Your breath hitches and your grip in his hair tightens while you egg him on with sharp little rolls of your hips.
He closes his eyes, giving a rumbling moan for the taste of you, even through the fabric. He laps until the fabric is soaked, clinging to your skin, and he can feel your clit swollen and stiff on his tongue through your panties. He closes his mouth over it, sucking you through your underwear while you writhe above him, keeping yourself quiet.
That won’t do.
He wants to hear you.
He wants the whole fucking Tower to hear you.
Hooking the crotch of your panties with his finger, it only takes one sharp little tug to tear them, exposing you to him.
“Homelander,” you moan. The sound of it lances a spear of heat through him, leaves his cock throbbing needily in the rigid confines of his cup. He groans into you, rocking his hips against the empty air. The only proper answer is to dive in, to close his lips around your clit and finally suck the rich nectar of your cunt without the filter of fabric between you. You taste even better than you smell, like salt and sex and sweet ripe fruit. It overwhelms his senses immediately, his eyelids flickering. 
The more he laps at you, the silkier your pussy becomes. Between circling your clit, he drives his tongue deep into you, drinking you down noisily and messily, a parched man gulping from an oasis. Your thick thighs are tight on either side of his head, your pulse pounding in his ears. He moans low and wicked for the taste and feel of you.
Your grip on his hair tightens sporadically, sharp little tugs that match the staccato cadence of your breaths. “F-fuck, your tongue feels-feels fucking unreal,” you moan, grinding down against it. The strength of it, the slight thrum of restrained power that courses through him, and the sheer relentlessness of his stamina is driving you wild against his mouth. “Fingers, use your fingers,” you tell him. He loves the rawness of your voice, the authority and desperation in your demand.
Removing one of his gloves, he moves his bare hand to the sweltering wetness of you, teasing his finger just below where his tongue is rubbing your clit. His index finger slips easily into the slick mess, and he savors the quiver of your velvet walls around it. He lets you ride his finger, stays all but still while you greedily bounce your hips, both hands fisted in his hair. You use him for your pleasure, and it makes him delirious with want.
Homelander's gaze flickers up. He peers through the layer of your skirt to catch a look at you, to watch you while you cannot watch him. You’re losing track of yourself, lips parted, eyes glazed with pleasure, shivering with each flick of his tongue and dive of his finger. Euphoria looks good on you. 
Christ, he has been patient. He would chastise himself for waiting so long to touch you, to taste you, to feel you, but he can’t bring himself to. The wait gifted him with this exquisite hunger, and he proved something important; you both yearn for the other. You crave him. He can see it in your hazy eyes, taste it in the spill of your sweet cunt.
You belong to him. He needs only to take you.
One finger becomes two, and then three. Your heels dig into his shoulders and fuck yourself down on them, moaning recklessly now, not caring who hears you. It’s music to his ears.
“Fuck, Homelander, I-I’m coming, I’m-don’t stop, don’t stop,” you beg prettily. You don’t need to, but he enjoys the song anyway. He laps at your clit in quick upward pulls of his tongue, lips creating a seal around it. His brows furrow tightly, his own neglected arousal pounding through his body like a wardrum, but he doesn’t touch himself, too focused on you.
Your whole body locks up tight when you come, breath caught in your lungs, your clit fluttering delicately. He presses his tongue to it, savoring the taste of your euphoria, how it floods your system and changes the flavor of you. Your pleasure grows his hunger into something monstrous, something demanding, but there is satiation at least in bringing you this, in showing you all the things he will be for you.
You’ll never want for anyone–or anything– else ever again.
Homelander doesn’t stop. You begged him not to. He finger-fucks you through the aftershocks, lapping up every drop of your pleasure, stroking you inside and out while your cunt squeezes his fingers. He doesn’t stop until he feels you pushing him away, your sweet songbird moans sounding more like whimpers, oversensitized. He withdraws his fingers, giving one last noisy slurp before emerging from beneath your skirt. His face is shiny and wet with your slick, his pupils blown black. He's panting, looking every bit like a beast lifting its bloodied head from the belly of its kill.
Crawling up your body, still predator hungry, he rests his knee on the desk between your legs. He cups either side of your face, fingertips digging possessively into the back of your neck. He meets your eyes, pinning you with the intensity of his gaze, wordlessly drilling into your mind that this moment, this feeling, this tingling warmth in your body is him.
I did this to you, his expression reads. You’re on my lips, he says by pressing them to yours, kissing your own taste into your mouth, his body throbbing, desperate for an ounce of that same relief. You’re mine.
To his amazement, your eyes mirror his own savage hunger. You kiss him hard, shamelessly licking into his mouth, huffing shallow breaths from your nose. “Lie down,” you tell him, voice as sweet and coarse as raw sugar. “I’m going to ride you.”
Homelander doesn’t need to be told twice. Exhilarated, he rolls over, flipping you with him and steadying you above him in a fluid motion. The desk isn’t as long as he is tall, but it doesn’t matter. He’s already half suspended in the air with his own excitement, helping you with overly eager hands that fumble alongside yours with his belt, which falls to the ground with a distinct thud. He gives a little jump at the voracity you rip his zipper down with, grinning.
Together, you shuck his pants down to his thighs. You grip him through his red briefs, a fractured moan falling from his lips.
“Cute underwear,” you coo. His cheeks flush to almost the same shade. You flatten your palm over his cock and he bites back a whimper, teeth sinking into his tongue. You give a light squeeze, fingers curling around his cock through the fabric, and he lets out a rough breath. “You feel close,” you tell him, stroking him in a loose fist, your hand warm, the fabric soft.
He nods fervently, the friction and your voice already teetering him towards the edge. He makes a sound of both anguish and relief when you release him, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. You tug his underwear down, his cock bouncing free, engorged and dripping precome.
“Don’t move,” you tell him, bracing one hand on his chest and sliding forward, your other hand moving between your bodies to steady his cock against the rapturously hot press of your soaked cunt. His hands fly to your hips, fingertips biting into the softness of your body. You allow him that, focused entirely on the act of taking him into you. The fat head of his cock it slips inside, evoking a sweet little gasp from you, and Homelander fights not to slam in the rest of the way.
Both of your hands fall to his chest, your eyes meeting his. He holds your gaze, mouth twitching around silent sharp breaths. He watches you sink slowly down the length of him, engulfing him in such sublime rapture it’s a wonder he doesn’t come right then and there for the feel of you alone. His grip on your hips flexes and he gives a sharp little thrust up, forgetting himself to the divine feel of your pussy.
“I said don’t move,” you remind him breathlessly. God, you’re beautiful like this. The fluorescent light behind your head haloes you, giving you the look of a debauched angel he plucked from the heavens to have and keep as his own. He expects you to move, to bounce yourself on his cock like you did his mouth and his fingers. He wants to watch your tits bounce, see your face clearly when you come on his cock, but the only part of you that moves is your hand.
His gaze drops and quickly darkens, watching intently as you stroke your clit. The initial contact alone makes you jerk, makes your pussy spasm and squeeze him so good he almost chokes on it. Your only response is to sigh, tipping your head back and spreading your legs a little wider, taking him deeper. He wants so badly to fuck you, to slam you down and rail you until your desk cracks in half.
“Mmmm, fuck,” you moan, rubbing yourself in circles, the lewd noise of it loud and irresistible to his ears. “Fuck, fuck–ah, god,” you start to pant, head falling forward, brows tightly pinched. You’re so sensitive after the assault of his mouth, the flavor of you still fresh on his tongue. The faster your fingers move, the closer he feels you get, the clench around his cock steadily tightening. He wants to thrash, but you keep him pinned in place with your look of expectation and pleasure. You’re getting off on him as much as you are your own fingers, on the swell and throb of his cock inside you, on the sheer power you hold over a god.
You’re loud when you come, nails clawing into the chest of his suit. Homelander’s eyes roll back, lips parted on a soundless cry of his own. The spasming heat of your release is too much and he loses himself to it, eyes flaring up with crimson light as he comes with you, every shudder of your climax stroking and milking him of his own, flooding you with his own wet mess.
His restraint breaks with the dam and he sits up abruptly, startling a noise from you, which he swallows with a hard kiss, cupping the back of your head. He holds you still and he fucks you, lifting from the desk entirely so that he alone supports your weight, driving you deeper onto his cock. Your legs tighten on either side of him, shaking. 
Out of his mind with pleasure, he tears your blouse open with his teeth, diving in close to lick, suck and bite at your chest. He buries his face between your breasts, holding you tightly as he fucks you both through your respective orgasms, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing obscenely in your office. 
Hitching your legs properly around his waist, he bounces you on his cock until the pleasure borders on pain and a secondary shock rolls through him like another orgasm, stealing his breath. Only then does he finally slow, mouthing languidly at your chest until he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He moans against you, grinding to an eventual halt. You comb your fingers through his hair and goosebumps erupt across his body, which shivers in the euphoric aftermath.
He loses track of how long he stays suspended like that, lost to the overwhelm of sensation. Your legs go slack while his angles slightly upward, his face pressed to your chest, your head resting atop his. He nuzzles at you, bleary eyed and slack with pleasure. He kisses a trail up to your clavicle, your throat, your jaw, smiling in the loose, easy way that only a good fuck can never make him.
“Wow,” he says after a while, voice thoroughly frayed.
You giggle, groggily lifting your head. He adjusts until you can relax against his chest, fold your forearms across it and settling your chin atop them, admiring him. He touches your face with his ungloved hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb, then the curve of your bottom lip. His smile widens when you kiss the pad of his thumb.
“Wow indeed,” you say, swinging your legs lightly. “Can’t say I’ve ever been fucked mid-air.”
“One of the many benefits of dating me,” he purrs, caressing your cheek with his knuckles. He kisses you again, drifting slowly back down, unhurried.
Your brows lift lazily. “Who says we’re dating?” You ask, but your smile keeps his hackles from rising.
“Me,” he says, eyes crinkled at the corners. He lands gently on the desk, helping you to it. “You and I are officially going steady.”
You give a thoughtful hum, carefully untangling your limbs from his. You slide off of the desk while he puts himself back together, your knees trembling faintly. “Fairly sure asking someone out requires a question mark. You know. The asking part. You didn’t even buy me dinner.” You attempt to button up your shirt, but it’s obviously a lost cause.
He exhales a quiet laugh, pulling you back into his arms. “Well, I certainly ate.”
“God,” you laugh, rolling your eyes, but they don’t stray from him for long. There’s a sparkle to your gaze that he wants to capture in his palm and never set loose.
“Will you go out with me?” He asks, lips brushing yours.
“Mmmmmmmm….” You hum once more, drawing it out, feigning a great deliberation. “There’s something you should know first.”
He quirks a brow. “What’s that?”
“My guilty pleasure,” you say, nose bumping his.
Intrigued, he inclines his head to prompt you to continue. Can’t be worse than mine.
“Superheroes,” you say conspiratorially. “Can’t get enough of them. Loved them my whole life. Especially this one in particular…”
He breaks into a frayed, charmed laugh. “Let me guess, name starts with an H?”
You suck in a breath through your teeth, lips curved downward in a mock grimace, and nod subtly. “ Total fangirl. Embarrassing, right?”
Homelander shakes his head. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never felt guilty about pleasure. Where’s the harm in it?”
The harm inflicted on those thugs couldn’t count. They had it coming.
“Harm to my pride, my ego, my reputation,” you list, tapping his suit to punctuate each one. “I made a pretty big fuss about not liking you. I had myself convinced that my Homelander only existed in my fantasies, and you were just the guy who plays him.”
My Homelander. The words stir an unexpectedly sentimental surge of emotion that wells up from somewhere deep in his chest. He clears his throat lightly. “What’s the verdict now?”
You sweep him with an appraising gaze. “Still deliberating.”
He clicks his tongue, nodding. “I don’t suppose I could arrange a meeting with the jury?”
“They’re available for dinner tomorrow,” you say, the tilt of your lips sly. 
“It’s a date,” he murmurs, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You kiss him, pressing your smile to his. He doubts he’ll ever tire of the softness of your lips, or the easy way you melt against him. He wraps his arms around you, content to let this moment pass only because he knows there will be more to come. He’s determined to make every one of them better than the last.
All of the pleasure, none of the guilt.
156 notes · View notes
discordantwritings · 18 hours
Text
Creative Cures (Mihawk x Reader)
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, sex pollen trope (but it’s a devil fruit power), the inherent dubcon of sex pollen but the con is as con as it can get under the circumstances, intercrural sex, PiV sex, creampie, mild cumplay, semi public sex
WC: 3.3k
Summary: As a relatively high ranking Marine doctor you were in charge of Dracule Mihawk’s post mission check ups. Normally you don’t have to do anything- until he shows up sick.
The only solution both you and him can agree on is a little… unconventional
Notes: I (lovingly) blame @fanaticsnail for this. All of her lovely sex pollen fics pushed me over the edge to write this one so go check hers out. Go.
Tagging: @keiva1000
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Most Marines didn’t like it when Mihawk had to come check in and give his after mission report in person. But you barely considered yourself a Marine anyways, always thinking of yourself as a doctor first before anything. A doctor who just so happened to be in charge of doing all of Mihawk’s post mission check ups.
Of course it took him a while to actually agree to do any sort of post mission work, but despite his generally sour attitude inside the Marines base he was never mean to you. Dismissive? Sure. Non-compliant with any medical advice you’d give? Yes. But that’s what you dealt with on a day to day basis. He was one of the few people you could have intelligent conversation with- he would listen to you and you would cherish the snippets of traveling stories you would get out of him.
Your check ups were never more than a handful of minutes, you had never seen him get more than a scratch, but he always let you run down your required checklist. Despite this you always cleared out half your day, just in case. So today, a day he was set to check in at your base, you sat patiently in your office until he was done talking with your superiors.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Until, finally, there was a frantic knock on your door before a frazzled looking cadet burst in. You immediately stand up and get serious- mass injuries were unfortunately commonplace for you to deal with and he had the scared look of someone who just saw a ship roll in half destroyed.
“Doctor-“
“How bad.”
“It’s Mihawk.”
That caught you entirely off guard and your stomach drops. “How bad?”
“We don’t know. He was giving his report and then he looked flushed and that’s when he ran out. Apparently he’s locked himself in some spare office and won’t come out.” He explains and you slowly get more and more concerned.
You quickly grab your bag and sling in over your shoulder, practically pushing the cadet out the door with you as you order him to show you where Mihawk is. It’s a quick jog down hallways and stairs but eventually you get to a door with two cadets on either side. One of your captains is leaning on the wall across from the door looking exasperated.
“The only thing he’s telling us is to leave him alone.” The captain explains, gesturing to the door.
You sigh and walk up to the door, rapping on it with your knuckles. “Mihawk, you’ve got everyone worried out here.”
A few seconds pass before you hear Mihawk’s voice, muffled from behind the steel door. “Doctor?”
“Everyone said you looked sick.” You explain.
There’s a long pause and you’re about to speak again before you hear his voice. “You all need to get out of here.”
You see the captain throw up his hands in your peripheral and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Turning your attention back to your fellow Marines you gesture down the hallway.
“Give me a few minutes alone with him.” You don’t need to tell them twice, and they eagerly take the relief.
You wait a few beats for them to clear out and then turn your attention back to the door. “Alright, it’s just us.”
“I thought I made it clear that all of you needed to leave me alone.” You can tell he’s close to the door, which you take as somewhat of a good sign.
“Look, if it’s something contagious I just need to know. If it’s something embarrassing I’m a doctor and I take confidentiality incredibly seriously.” There’s silence and you lean on the door. “Just let me help you.”
You hear him moving behind the door and then the heavy sound of the lock turning. You give him a few seconds before you enter, closing the door after yourself immediately.
All the lights are off, only the small amount of light through the high circular windows illuminating the space. It takes you a second to locate Mihawk but eventually you find him, shoulders hunched as he leans on an abandoned desk. It’s jarring to see his normally perfect posture gone and even in the low light you can see the intense flush over his face and exposed chest. You don’t need a thermometer to see that his temperature is dangerously high.
“What happened?” You don’t approach him, hoping the space gives him some comfort.
“It was-“ He breaks off as he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Some Devil Fruit user. Don’t know what the power was but I inhaled some smoke and then-“
He trails off and you know you’re probably in a bit over your head. Devil Fruit powers could be quite literally anything. You shove all that down though and hope your nervousness doesn’t show. “What are your symptoms?”
Mihawk shakes his head. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have let you in you need to-“
“Mihawk I need you to tell me.” You’re unsure where this confidence is coming from, there’s not a world in which you would ever be in a position to tell a warlord what to do. But to your surprise, it works.
“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.” He practically growls.
“You have my word.”
“Fine.” You see him shift and it looks like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “I have a fever, I am experiencing some mental fog, and my senses seem to be heightened.”
It’s your years as a doctor that let you immediately know he’s holding something back. “And?”
His gaze darts up and he glares at you making your blood run ice cold. If looks could kill you would be a pile of viscera on the floor. Despite this, he does give you and answer.
“I am in an… unnatural state of arousal.”
Oh.
That would certainly explain a few things.
You let your doctor brain take over as you set your bag on the ground, opening it and looking through what you have. Medication wouldn’t help since the cause was a Devil Fruit power but…
“Okay. I have a few ideas.” You reach into your bag and pull out an ice pack, throwing it over to Mihawk who easily catches it and presses it to his forehead. “The first is what you are doing, which is isolate until the effect stops. I’m not sure this is the best idea since you seem to be incredibly uncomfortable.”
“What else.”
“I could sedate you and hopefully have it flushed out of your system by the time you wake up.” You offer, showing him the vial of clear liquid.
“Absolutely not. I refuse to be further incapacitated around you Marines.” He spits out the last word and you would be offended if you actually considered yourself a Marine.
“Alright. Those are my… sensible ideas.”
“Which implies there are insensible ones. Spit it out.”
You can’t blame him for being short but it didn’t make your next concepts any easier to say. “I could find you someone to… ride it out with.”
That idea hangs in the air and you watch Mihawk screw his eyes shut, clearly struggling. “I don’t- it’s insufferable enough to be vulnerable on a Marine base but you want to bring in some stranger-“
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
A thought pops into your head as you scramble for more ideas as Mihawk’s composure slowly keeps slipping. It’s a stupid thought, one a doctor like you shouldn’t have even had. But in the moment, pressed for ideas, it tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think properly about it.
“I would help you.”
You realize what you’ve said a moment too late and wish that somehow the floor would swallow you whole. It’s not like you don’t want to- it’s clear that your stupid monkey brain has always held on an attraction to the incredibly handsome warlord- but offering yourself up like this?
Beyond wildly inappropriate.
“Don’t say things like that.” Mihawk says as he backs up a few steps and shame hits you like a brick wall.
“I’m so sorry- it was- you shouldn’t be with anyone when you’re compromised like this I’ll just-“ You fumble over your words and quickly turn to unlock the door and get out of there.
Before your hand can even reach the handle an arm comes out from behind you and slams on the door. Suddenly you feel the intense heat of Mihawk’s body behind you, heavy breath fanning over the back of your neck. He doesn’t press into your body but instead hovers and your mind can’t quite keep up with the sudden change in events.
“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.” His voice is low and dripping with lust.
Your gaze is locked forward as you try to control your breathing. “I meant it.”
“Last chance.”
The professional part of your brain gets smashed to smithereens as he presses his body against yours. “If you’re sure you want this then-“
The air is knocked out of your lungs as he steps forward, pushing you harshly into the door. One hand knots in your hair while the other snakes around your waist and pulls you in impossibly closer. The grip on your hair forces your head to the side, giving Mihawk the space to attack your neck, teeth digging into your skin immediately. As he does so he grinds his hips up and you can feel just how painfully hard he is against your ass.
The hand on your waist pulls at your uniform pants and you quickly get the idea, using your free hands to shove them down. You’re only able to get them just over your ass with how your legs are pressed apart by Mihawk’s but that seems to be enough for him. His hands leave you for a second and you hear the clatter of his belt before both hands tightly grip your hips.
You feel his cock slide between your folds, not entering you but instead sliding between your lips. His shaft is almost scorching hot as it slides against your clit, slick dripping from you and easing his shallow and fast thrusts.
“I just- fuck I just have to take the edge of your so-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he holds you still to use you.
“It’s alright just-“ You can practically feel every vein against your sensitive clit and you bring one of your hands up and back to dig into his hair.
The scratch of your nails in his scalp is all Mihawk needs to tip over the edge, grunting as he spills onto the door and your thighs. You feel his heavy breath on your neck as he collects himself but the hardness against you doesn’t fade. You hear frustration in a low growl against your back but despite this he places kisses over the deep bite marks he created on your neck.
Slowly Mihawk pries his body away from yours and you take the opportunity to quickly toe off your shoes and slip your pants all the way off. When you turn around you see Mihawk watching you from a large chair, slowly pumping his cock, soaking from you slick.
“Get the rest of that god awful uniform off doctor.” You quickly discard your jacket and pull your shirt over your head, earning an appreciative hum from Mihawk. “What a pity you have to hide all that.”
You flush under his compliment and piercing gold gaze. With his free hand he beckons you over and you obey without hesitation. The second you’re close enough he pulls you into his lap, your thighs pushed apart by his spread ones. Your hands grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself as his hands find your hips once more.
“Normally I would work you open darling but-“ He nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent. “You can take it, can’t you?”
He doesn’t wait for a reply before one incredibly strong hand pushes you down while the other lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him as his tip presses into you, stretching you out. You curse as he pushes into you a bit faster than you can adjust, but probably significantly slower than he wants to fuck into you. The sting feels good mixed with the way Mihawk curses and praises you under his breath, words barely understandable as his fingers bruise your waist.
“Just like that- so fucking tight-“ He mouths at your collarbone as you sink down and your head falls back as he splits you open.
Soon enough your hips meet his and you moan and dig your nails into Mihawk’s shoulders. He can’t help but shallowly thrust up into you, hot breath fanning over your skin as his instincts seem to overwhelm him. Once you feel ready you work to move your hips in time with his, pulling yourself up and down further on his length.
“That’s it- you’ve been waiting for an excuse to fuck yourself on my cock huh? Proper little doctor- I’ve seen how you- fuck- how you look at me.” You flush with embarrassment and look down to see his golden eyes blown out by darkness.
Maybe you should have some shame, knowing you were seen through so easily, but when he looks up at you like that you can’t think of anything else. You quickly press your lips to his and he seems caught off guard for a second- only to quickly overtake the kiss. One strong hand grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his tongue slips between your lips. You stay like this until your lungs scream at you and you push yourself back and gasp for air.
You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you notice Mihawk’s gaze quickly dart to the door. You’re confused for a second but soon a loud knocking bounces off the steel door.
“Doctor- status report?” One of the cadets yells through the door and you swear under your breath.
You stop your movements, hoping to catch your breath and sound somewhat put together but Mihawk has other ideas. The second you falter he grabs your hips and starts moving you up and down effortlessly and when you glare at him he only grins up at you.
Seems he still has the mental capacity to be an ass.
“We are-“ You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop a moan after a skillfully directed thrust. “We are quarantining until some of my tests are- are done processing.”
There’s a pause before the cadet responds. “Okay… are you alright? You’re not sick are you?”
When one of Mihawk’s hands leave your hips you know something is up and you’re able to bite down on your hand in time to stifle the moan that leaves your body when his skilled fingers find your clit. You’re so close to an orgasm but you fight it back just long enough to get this stupid cadet out of here.
“Quarantine this hallway until my further say- that’s an order!” You yell out and you hope and pray the cadet doesn’t hear the pleasure in your voice.
“Y-Yes!” The voice shouts back and you hope he’s running down the hall because you can’t take this anymore.
“What would your fellow Marines think?” Mihawk’s voice, cruel and playful, rings in your ears. “They’re precious doctor getting fucked stupid by a pirate- fuck you like that don’t you?”
You can only nod, overwhelmed by hick cock and fingers skillfully taking you apart.
“You’re squeezing me so tight- just- need you to cum all over my cock- you can do that can’t you? Cum for me-“ There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and his command breaks any last tethers you were using to hold off your orgasm snap.
Mihawk swears loudly as your walls convulse around him and it’s only seconds later he’s holding your hips down hard against his and spilling inside you. You lay your forehead on Mihawk’s shoulder as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Even after you catch your breath he’s still hard inside you and you know you’re not done yet.
“I just want to see- hold on.” Is the only warning you get before Mihawk is standing up.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips but his strong hands on your ass are more than enough to keep you up. He moves a few feet to the desk, setting you down on it and tapping your thigh once you’re settled. You get the idea and unlatch your legs, letting him slip out and away from you.
“Let me see.” Mihawk says as he pushes your knees apart, eyes transfixed between them. “Fuck.”
He watches as his cum leaks out of you, his fingers quickly scooping it up and shoving it back inside of you. In any other headspace you might think that was disgusting but the way he watches you and is claiming you makes it incredibly arousing. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you automatically take them between your lips, tasting the mix of your fluids.
“I’m- fuck- you’re perfect.” He seems reluctant to take his fingers from your mouth but the second both his hands are free he’s easily flipping you around and pushing your chest into the desk.
There’s no warning before he’s plunging into you again, your hips roughly meeting the edge of the wooden desk. You don’t really feel the pain amongst the pleasure, oversensitive from your previous orgasm. You feel open mouth kisses pepper your spine as he thrusts into you from behind. While one of his hands stays on your hips- your skin practically indented in the shape of his fingers there now- one reaches down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he pushes your leg upwards. The new angle is heavenly as you just let yourself be used- sliding forwards and backwards on the desk with each powerful thrust.
“Need you to- fuck darling I just need you to cum on me again- please I need to feel it-“ Mihawk sounds so desperate, a whine to his voice that he no longer can hide. “Just a little bit more for me-“
Your body seems to crave following his commands and another orgasm is ripped from your sensitive body. Only a few moments later you feel him cum inside you again, and you’re confident at this point he’s dripping out of you onto the floor.
“So good for me- taking all my cum-“ He’s breathless as he pulls out of you again and you don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at your fucked out hole.
When he actually give you space for a minute you turn your head, still using the table to support your weight. “You feel better?”
“Hm…” His hand skates up your back, soothing you. “Feeling just sated enough to get you back to the room I’m staying in.”
The prospect of going more rounds was overwhelming but you can’t deny that you wanted it more than anything. One problem.
“If anyone sees me I think they’ll figure out some of what happened.” From your messed up hair, the bruises forming on your neck, and the fact that there’s no way you’ll be able to walk normally- yeah it’ll be obvious you were just fucked within an inch of your life.
“Oh doctor.” He pulls you up off the desk and places a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead. “If anyone else sees you like this I’ll kill them.”
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tojiscursedtool · 18 hours
Note
A reverse of the "Male!R sucking hung!Gojo's dick" headcanons. Like hung fellow Jujutsu High teacher male!R in a "Colleagues with Benefits" relationship with Gojo, and loving how Gojo is just S+++ at handling his magnum dong and making him cum.
⟢ : Satoru HC’s !?★.ᐟ
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Note ~ kicked my feet when writing this fr
MENTIONS — Male!reader, Blowjobs/Handjobs, dick riding, cock warming, bulging, praising, mean/rough sex, degrading, begging, gentle sex, teasing, fingering.
꒰ 🪕 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
— !SatoruGojo whose clothes are baggy but underneath them he’s a well built guy with a slim ass waist. His body is really flexible too especially when you’re fucking him.
— !SatoruGojo who wraps his arms around your neck pulling you towards him making you look at his eyes while you fuck him, making you look at what you’re doing to him.
— !SatoruGojo who absolutely loves sucking your huge dick, he loves the feeling of you making a mess of his hair as you tell him how good he’s doing. It motivates him to keep going and he’d even use his tongue to get more praise out of you, he loves that shit. He’d keep looking into your eyes with his pretty blue ones, making you feel a bit embarrassed by the way he’d look at you as he sucked your cock.
— !SatoruGojo who loves drinking up your cum like it’s a dessert for him. He always begs for you to either cum in his mouth or his slutty ass, he prefers to be filled up to the brim especially when you’re fucking him in his ass. He begs for more until he’s practically pregnant but..he can’t that’s just the pleasure talking.
— !SatoruGojo who loves to tease you in public and tries to provoke you, he knows you can be sorta sweet to him when you wanted but he forgets you can also pin him against a stall and fuck his mind out. That you could rearrange his insides with your ridiculously huge cock, he gets drunk on it. Hell he’s even moaning so loud to where everyone can hear and gets the both of you kicked out of places.
— !SatoruGojo who has a big ass ego especially in bed, sometimes you have to be mean just for him to listen but that’s what he likes. He wants you to be mean to him he loves when you tell him how much of a whore and a disobedient slut he is..how much of a brat he is and that he needs to start listening or else you were really going to fuck him dumber than what is already.
— !SatoruGojo who loves feeling your cock buried deep inside him, as you’re pumping him full of your cum and cock he always gets fucked stupid. He always ends up begging for more even if he’s already full of your cum, he still wants more of your cock and you’d happily give it to him. He loves the feeling of you rearranging his insides as you used him like your own personal little fuck toy. He was perfect at making you cum and you’d use that to your advantages, of course you wanted to make him feel good too so you did just that.
— !SatoruGojo who loves to cock warm you when you’re busy, when you felt cold or were just turned on in general you’d ask Satoru to cock warm you. Of course he’d agree with no hesitation and try his hardest not to move as you did your work, some times he wouldn’t be able to handle it and he’d distract you by riding your cock..
“Satoru, can you come here and cock warm me while I get some work done? Please.” You’d ask him gently kissing his neck and he’d comply, next thing he knew he was on your large cock trying his hardest not to move earning a whine here and there, you’d tell him how much of a good boy he was for not moving and that would motivate him. He already had a big ego but you praising him for the smallest things just made his ego bigger and bigger..but when he couldn’t control himself he’d end up fucking him self stupid on your cock screaming your name. You’d end up punishing him but not coming on him and pulling out to cum on his stomach or thighs letting your huge loads go to waste. He’d pout snd whine, maybe get upset that you would waste your loads like that instead of emptying yourself into him, but that was his fault for not listening.
— !SatoruGojo who doesn’t understand why you’re randomly so clingy and needy until he looks down and notices you’re bricked..you always look into his eyes and ask..no you beg him for you to fuck him. You don’t care where you just wanna get off and you also wanna look at his cute face as your huge cock is going deep inside him. Where you wanna hear his dumb babbling and his slutty moans. Where you wanna grab his nice plump ass as you fuck him, you love looking into his eyes as you fuck him but sometimes you get distracted by his ass, he has a curvy waist with a nice ass who could blame you for watching it move as you fucked him?
— !SatoruGojo who arches his back when he’s sucking your dick so you could use your fingers to play and finger with his ass. He enjoys when you hit his prostate as he’s sucking your dick, he loves how full your cock makes his mouth and throat. He loves when you face fuck him too, he goes cross eyed when you go to rough, sometimes you’d notice a change in his eyes how his pupils became In a heart shaped form. He’d have his hands resting on your legs for support as he’s deep throating you, sometimes when he goes completely down on your cock you could see the outline of your cock in his throat.
— !SatoruGojo who is being fucked up against his bedroom wall, you’d usually come over to his place unexpectedly to hang out with him but that results in you railing the fuck of out of him in the end of it. You’d be holding onto his hips as he’s gripping onto the wall as you ruined his insides. Ruined him. He’d be screaming for you to never stop and to keep going and you’d give him just that, occasionally you’d slap his ass harshly if he was too loud, you didn’t want the next door neighbors to hear the strongest sorcerer being railed by his co-worker.
— !SatoruGojo who loved when you were also sweet and gentle with him, asking if anything hurts or if he was uncomfortable at all..when you took your time with him pampering him with kisses and ‘I love you’s’, the times you’d fuck him just for him to feel good and special. You’d tell him how much you loved him and how good he felt, how he was taking you so well, how he was so pretty like this. You’d slowly move yourself in and out of him as he’d occasionally kiss you whilst he latch onto you not wanting to let go of you or this moment you both were in.
“Satoru, I love you.” You’d whisper in his ear as you towered over him, both of your hands were interlocked with his, you looked at him in the eyes and noticed his sweet smile. He then spoke in a soft tone, “I—I love you..too, baby..” his moans and whimpers were soft, you made sure to spoil him as much as you could that time, kissing him all over his neck, shoulder, and face as you went gentle with him. You made sure to take care of him as soon as you were done, cuddling up with him allowing him to sleep on top of you.
— !SatoruGojo who notices that when you’re hard or horny you don’t say much but try to get Satoru to notice by other ways..he knows what you want but he acts dumb until you ask him and then he starts to praise you. Sometimes he’d take advantage of your shyness and top you while you’re fucking him, he’d have you pinned against his bed as he was riding your cock telling you what to do, he’d leave hickeys and bite marks all around your torso and neck. When he’d kiss you he would bite your lip causing it to bleed or bruise up, as well with him shoving his tongue in your mouth as he deeply and sloppily kissed you.
— !SatoruGojo who takes pride in being able to make you cum, he knows exactly how and what you like. He loves that he’s the one you always go to for pleasure or to de-stress yourself. When he’s sucking your cock he’d make sure to deep throat you completely as he’s jerking you off, he’d also use his long tongue and probably use infinity to fuck around with your sensitivity making you cum more quicker than normal.
— !SatoruGojo who occasionally lets you fuck him in his domain when the two of you are out and have no where quiet or private to go, his domain causes you to feel more vulnerable and sensitive when you’re both doing it. You’re confused on why but never question it, it feels fucking amazing..
— !SatoruGojo who wants to keep eye contact with you no matter what, he could be sucking your cock, letting you fuck him, grope him, tease him, he doesn’t care what he wants you looking him in the eyes. He needs your eye contact badly, sometimes when you’re fucking him and you look at him a certain way he cums instantly.
— !SatoruGojo who wants to keep eye contact no matter what, you could be fucking him, groping him, having him suck your cock, teasing him, etc and he’d want you to look at him. He wants you to know how good you made him feel and that he wants to make you also feel good. You loved it just as much as he did, to look into his pretty eyes. The way they looked at you with love and desire, those pretty bright blue eyes that glowed with desire when you fucked him. Those pretty eyes who admired and loved you, who loved looking just as deeply into yours. He wants you to know that you are his no matter what and can’t stop looking into your eyes.
— !SatoruGojo who loved how sweet you were most of the time, he did tease you though most of the time you didn’t mind but when he was REALLY testing you, you were kinda mean when fucking him. Aggressive and rough as hell, he didn’t complain tho he’d keep going and mock you until you wanted to fully destroy everything he was. You’d glare at him with such an angry agitated look as you were slamming yourself into him harshly slapping his ass causing it to be red and sore in the aftermath.
— !SatoruGojo who enjoys teasing you with his infinity, it could be right when you’re about to come and he’d tease you making it harder for you to cum and he’d have you release causing your load to fill him up completely, sometimes he’d blankly pass out from it and wake up hours later still feeling completely full.
— !SatoruGojo who loves how determined and genuine you get when you really want something, if you wanted something you’d take it..with his consent of course. You’d ask him pushing your shyness aside or end up hinting that you really needed it, that you needed him and him only. That shit really fed his ego.
— !SatoruGojo who loves when you look down at him staring into his eyes while he sucked your cock, he loved it so much. He loved making you watch him tease you and kiss all over your cock and sometimes let it rest on his face as he gently kissed the shaft, he’d even thank it like it was benefiting him in some way..well it was. He was feeling pleasure by you, by your cock. He’d even use his tongue to play with the tip of your cock whilst gently stroking it, teasing you. He’d lick the slick and his tongue was gently licking across your tip down onto your shaft back on your tip again. And right when you’re over stimulated he’d deep throat you unexpectedly causing you to cum instantly in his mouth. After he swallowed it all he’d swallow it all and over his mouth to show you he took it all, Satoru would thank you.
꒰ 🪕 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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mionemymind · 12 hours
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To Be Loved Is To Be Considered
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Summary: The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.
Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship
A/n: I know y’all love angst but please give this fluff a chance too. GIF credits to @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo
Word Count: 1.3k
Masterlist
Love is not always about the sacrifices you do but rather the moments in life where you consider more than yourself. To be loved is to be considered. And this is how Wanda considered Y/n.
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On no particular evening, Y/n lay asleep on the living room couch after finishing her part of the shared chores. Wanda still had one more thing on her list when she noticed her girlfriend was sound asleep.
Tiptoeing closer, the red head saw the slight shiver on Y/n’s skin. Wanda clicked her tongue in disapproval and used her magic to get the blanket from the living room. Grabbing it from the air, she placed the blanket on top of Y/n and placed a small kiss on her forehead.
The music in the background was lowered to a small hum as Wanda continued with her chores, the last thing being on her list was to water the plants.
Taking her time, Wanda danced around their apartment as she watered the plants, even murmuring small affirmations to certain plants that were taking a while to grow.
And after 20 minutes, feeling satisfied with the clean apartment, Wanda slipped under the blanket and cuddled into her warm girlfriend. It didn’t take long for the red head to fall into a small slumber.
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Y/n has a certain lazy personality when it comes to her safety, something Wanda has always hated. But no matter how many times the red head will berate her girlfriend, Y/n never listens. In her head, as long as she gets back to Wanda, that’s all that matters.
So as Y/n sat in the long pre-mission briefing, Wanda had always checked Y/n’s suit for safety. Any time gadgets need an update, Wanda would be the first to put in the request. When she notices a hindrance in Y/n’s performance, Wanda could always tell why and how certain modifications can help.
Wanda paid attention to make sure that Y/n could focus solely on her job.During the times where they are partnered up, Wanda was always glad to double check over her work.
Y/n knew that when her suit always felt up to date, never without holes before a mission, and surprisingly clean, that Wanda must’ve done something.
So in turn, Y/n never failed to come back to Wanda.
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The warm dim vibe of the restaurant contrasted the loud activity that happened throughout. Wanda and Y/n sat closer to the bar, already dinning in.
It was date night, Wanda had been wanting to try a new spot in LA with great views and amazing food. “You made a great choice, babe.” Wanda smiled at Y/n’s praise.
“Should we get a couple of drinks?” As Y/n nodded in agreement, the waiter came with the food. “Here you go ladies.”
As he sat the food down, Y/n bit back the frown when she noticed the greens she specifically didn’t want mixed with her alfredo. Looking over Wanda’s food, Y/n smiled at how perfect it turned out.
“At least they got her’s right,” Y/n thought.
“Does everything look good?” The waiter asked, waiting for approval.
“Yeah everything-,” Wanda glanced at her girlfriend’s food with a disapproving look ready to say something but Y/n had interrupted her.
“Yeah, everything looks good. Thank you.” The waiter smiled and walked away. Once he was out of sight, Y/n sighed at her food.
“You should’ve let me say something dekta.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to argue with Wanda.
“I really don’t like complaining to them Wanda. Wait staff already have a lot on their hands.” Although Wanda knew they were both right, she was still unhappy to see Y/n unable to eat.
So as Y/n drank her water, Wanda switched their plates. Y/n almost disagreed, but the look on Wanda’s face silenced Y/n. “Now eat, let’s not waste a lovely date night now.”
Y/n smiled and took a bite of the steak, the juicy and flavorful feeling filled her mouth. As they continued the date, Y/n gave Wanda a couple pieces of steak as a small thank you.
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“Dekta, I’m home!” Wanda placed her keys in the bowl and walked into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bag on the counter.
“In here, babe!” Y/n yelled from the office. Once Wanda put away the groceries, her eyes finally set on the gift waiting for her at the kitchen table.
Walking to it, Wanda smiled at the bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper. In the middle, a note read ‘For my beautiful and lovely girlfriend, Wanda. Love, your dekta.’
She picked it up, enjoying the smell. Right beside it sat the Sokovian treats that she had mentioned craving the other day.
Already opening a pack, Wanda walked into the office, a gift in hand. Y/n was in the middle of playing video games, her back facing Wanda.
“Pause the game and close your eyes, dekta.” Y/n paused the game.
“Am I in trouble?” Wanda giggled as she placed the gift in Y/n’s lap, giving a small peck on her forehead.
“You’re not in trouble. But open them.” Y/n opened her eyes, mouth slack at the sight of a new gaming controller. The plastered smile on her face made Wanda smile even more.
“I hope you like the color.”
“Like it?!!” Y/n was flabbergasted by the gesture, immediately pulling Wanda in for a massive hug.
“Thank you so much, babe! I can game so much better with this.”
“Maybe then you can aim.” Y/n pouted at the slight jab from Wanda but still kissed her nonetheless.
“I’ll have you know, I blame the drift on my old controller.”
“Yeah, yeah. Give me another kiss so you can play your game.” Y/n pulled Wanda in for a deeper kiss, feeling happy for the unexpected gift.
As Wanda’s smile broke the kiss, she gave her girlfriend another peck on the lips and went back to the kitchen to grab her snacks. She ate them in their office as she watched her girlfriend still miserably lose in Overwatch.
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In their shared bed, Wanda sat in her spot, reading the new book assigned for the month. Laying beside her, Y/n watched a new show on Netflix, making sure to keep the volume low to not disturb Wanda.
“Babe, can you mess with my hair?” Before Wanda could utter yes, Y/n had already laid her head down on her lap, settling herself in a comfortable position.
Without a word, Wanda used her free hand and combed her fingers through Y/n’s hair. A soft groan escaped Y/n’s lips, as she said, “What page are you on?”
“Only in the second chapter, she’s being transported to a new place after killing the wolf.” Y/n hummed in response and continued to watch.
While Wanda combed through Y/n’s hair, she began to notice how her hand hadn't felt plastic frames. Realizing that her girlfriend had been unable to see the show this whole time, Wanda stopped her book. She briefly put it down to notice her girlfriend’s glasses were on the desk across the room.
Rolling her eyes, she continued to read as her magic floated the glasses right in front of Y/n. As if it was a silent command, Y/n put on her glasses, a small smile on her lips as she could finally see clearly.
Y/n placed a small kiss on Wanda’s thigh as a thank you. Together, the two continued to enjoy each other’s activities in the presence of each other.
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Love is not always grand. Love is mostly kind. Feeling considered is something the heart will forever crave. And Wanda will always consider Y/n.
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tipsyleaf · 2 days
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OH MY GOODNESS, LEON WOULD LITERALLY BE SWEATING.
Knowing Leon; he’d probably show up in a fancy suit. Him and his now wife had been dating for a couple of months, having to push back when he’d finally be able to meet her parents because of work. He wanted to look presentable and nice, especially after finding out her father was a high ranking military official.
He’d probably show up with flowers in hand for your mother, giving her a hug as she kissed both of his cheeks and treated him like a baby. All while her father stood back and watch with his arms folded, poor guy was probably shivering as his girlfriend’s mother introduced her husband, giving Leon a nice firm nod and extending his hand out.
They had planned a nice little dinner together; His girlfriend and her mother would finish cooking in the kitchen as her father quite literally conducted an entire interview with Leon in the living room.
“What do you do for work?”
“What are you trying to do with my daughter?”
“How long were you in training for?”
Being the nice respectful guy he was, he’d reply with “No sir” or “Yes sir” to his questions. Go into further depth with the harder ones, really trying to get on the old man’s good side. They had a little talk about the army and stuff, listening to his old stories before your mother and you finally finished the food.
Dinner went well, so far your parents absolutely adored him. Especially your mother; she’d probably be telling your father “Can you believe it Dave? Our little girl with an amazing man like him! I know he’ll protect her, especially with that fancy government job he has!” Leon would just blush and thank her, smiling and happily eating his steak.
Let’s just say, as soon as he felt, your mother was already gossiping with you. Talking about how “Handsome” and “Strong” he was. You just blushed at giggled, agreeing with her every word.
- Anon! 🎀
Love this 🎀anon, but I have a feeling as soon as her father heard his name he knew who Leon was. Everybody knows everybody in certain lines of work!
The second he hears your father is a general in the military he has a lot of questions. He's questioning you and you're answering to the best of your abilities. But his rank pops up. Four star general... Your father is a four star general. One of the highest ranks you could possibly get...
Then his brain starts turning, your last name moving through his head until it finally sticks. He's scrubbed floors at the rumor of that man showing up. Knows stories of how ruthless he is and the things that man's done. Climbing ranks quickly in the Army with the amount of raw potential he had.
"General Tarkin..." You freeze for a minute looking at him.
"The Star Wars character?"
"No, the other cadets... They'd call him General Tarkin. I know your father... Well, know of your father. Never met him personally but I've heard he's... Terrifying." Your father? Terrifying? You laugh at the thought, smiling at your boyfriend who seems to look a lot more tense than he already was.
"Daddy's not terrifying. He's like a giant teddy bear if anything." Leon knows you mean well but the thought of meeting this man has his stomach in knots. Not only would he have to impress her parents but the man who he knew could do a lot of things to make his life more miserable if he pissed him off.
Leon was definitely gonna have some kind of stomach ulcer with the amount of stress by the end of the night.
Your mother adored him, wouldn't stop calling him handsome and welcoming him into the family without even thinking about it. But Leon could hardly focus feeling the generals burning glare on him from behind your doting mother.
As soon as Leon introduced himself, your father tightens his grip on Leon's hand.
"I know who you are boy."
Boy... That's the name Leon gets stuck with for a chunk of the night and sometime after.
Your father tells you to go help your mother with dinner and you happily follow. Leaving the two of them alone in the den. Sitting across from each other in silence for a few minutes.
"You know me?" Leon's the first to speak, your father still staring him down with his arms crossed.
"Hard not to. President Graham speaks highly of you for helping him with his daughter. We're friends, told him personally who my daughter was seeing and he couldn't stop talking about you." His face tightens as he leans forward, towards Leon.
"I've read the reports from '04. Know what you saw. But I don't take too kindly knowing my daughter's dating a man who skipped around in Spain with another woman. Even if it was to protect her."
Leon's at a loss for words. What even could he say!?
"What're your intentions with my daughter?" Oh thank God something he can answer.
"To be with her, Sir." The generals face softes slightly with a nod.
"You love her?"
"More than anything, Sir."
"You wanna marry her? Have a family?"
"When the time comes, Sir."
The grilling continued until you came in to save him with the news of dinner being done. Your father didn't say much after that. Your mother talking all through dinner and dessert.
Upon leaving you and Leon say your goodbyes and take off. Your mother looks at your father as he shuts the door and smiles.
"Well?" She questions, looking at him.
"He'll do fine." He says, smiling ear to ear.
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sciderman · 1 day
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ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!
Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.
Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.
I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable” for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.
I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3
hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...
i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)
i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.
it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...
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misc-obeyme · 14 hours
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🍄 coming in for laughs So imagine lucifer and mc switching bodies for a day. Satan needs to learn how to store the cursed tomes. Mc makes lucifer swear to behave like nothing happened. At RAD Dia obv figures out mc is lucifer for today, and so mc is excused from work. Meanwhile, lucifer needs to handle all his brothers touching, flirting, suggestions, secrets, not being able to be as intimidating, body is too small, where the fuck are my wings, why is your skin like that. At some point mammon even picks mc up on his shoulder and runs away. Attempted kisses. Total chaos. But he is too prideful to go back on his promise. At evening in the common room, they are back in their bodies, mc sitting on the couch, stifling a laugh, lucifer standing there embarrassed to his core, the rest come in, and find out the truth. A week later, Satan still hasn't come out of his room, Mammon can't look lucifer in the eye, Asmo gets flustered just thinking how close he was to lucifer having him on the table (in his imagination at least), Solomon wishes he asked mc for a pact while he could've, maybe it would work like that What do you think about the rest pf the characters? Ps. I love torturing lucifer, it's a hobby at this point
OH NO poor Lucifer!!!
MC being kinda mean by making him promise not to tell! They had to know he'd suffer at the hands of everyone believing he was them.
Then again, maybe it's good for him to experience a day being MC. He can finally know what it's like for MC to deal with this nonsense every day lol.
I love the idea that Diavolo figures it out almost immediately. Like MC shows up in Lucifer's body, ready to pretend to be him and get work done. At first Dia's like hmm okay.
But then MC does something too un-Lucifer like and Dia's like okay what gives. Who are you and what have you done with Lucifer. And MC just caves.
I can kinda see Levi just being unaffected. Like maybe he didn't even go to RAD that day and he's been holed up in his room playing some video game and missed the whole thing. 'Cause if he thought he was having some kinda sweet moment with MC and then found out later it was Lucifer, I promise the HoL will be flooded shortly thereafter.
Beel takes it in stride. He just goes over to Lucifer and says "Sorry for what I did when I thought you were MC." And Lucifer sighs and looks aggrieved, but he's like it's fine. 'Cause who could stay mad at sweet precious Beel?
Belphie is devastated, but like hell he's gonna let anyone know. Says he doesn't care and goes to sleep. Later finds MC and is like, here's what I did when I thought Lucifer was you. It was terrible. How could you make me suffer like this.
Barbatos would know, I don't think he'd be fooled at all. He keeps the secret, but he's just laughing about the whole situation on the inside.
Simeon is confused. Wait. MC was actually Lucifer? Oh. Oh no. He's gonna be apologizing to Lucifer for anything he did when he thought Lucifer was MC, even if he didn't do anything lol. Lucifer's just like please let us not speak of it.
I love that Solomon is disappointed he lost his chance to try for a pact. Lucifer is just like it's never gonna happen.
Satan receives an unfortunately long lecture about the correct storage of cursed books.
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autumnywinter · 2 days
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Your Yan!Elliott posts are endlessly fascinating to me. I propose an idea for you if you are up for it: Yan!Elliott finally has his prize all to himself, only to learn he's simply done the job for them. He's not the only obsessed one. He's not got his prize caged up. No no. He's caged with them. Wasn't it always rather odd that his target of infatuation quickly learned everything about him, his schedules, his interests, his favorite foods? Did he ever even notice? (Based a little on the fact that--let's be real--we players are the weird ones)
Omg thank you! :) And true, I would 100% be considered the creep if my farmer's behavior imitated my own irl behavior haha T_T
I made Reader a lot more smug than I normally do. I hope this is good!!
Yandere!Elliott x Reader
Tags/warnings: Suggestive, drugging, mentioned stalking, dubcon (kinda but not really), yandere x yandere, gender neutral reader
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Sometimes Elliott felt like he didn't even need to stalk you around the town. He'd walk out of his cabin, camera, binoculars, and caffeine gathered for a stakeout, only for you to be waiting outside with a smile on your face. That same smile that made him feel like he was soaring.
Not only that, but you knew just what he liked. Granted, he'd like anything if it were from you, but he had a whole year's supply worth of pomegranates and ink stocked up in his cabin.
He didn't even want to put either to use, treasuring each item you gave him like a rare gem. He did eventually crack and eat the pomegranates though. He was only human, after all!
There was no doubting it. You were perfect.
Each time he'd write lengthy letters to you, all from your "secret admirer", he'd watch your expressions. You always looked delighted to have received a letter. Though you never once attempted to find out who was sending you them. Elliott wondered if maybe you already knew, but never wanted to get his hopes up.
He made sure to describe how stunning you were in every letter he wrote. It was important for you to know how perfect you were. So perfect, that you didn't deserve to be around anyone else. No one would ever love you as much as Elliott did.
Despite the countless gifts he had received from you, despite you seeming to know his schedule down to a T, he was still determined he needed to win your affection over. All because he needed more.
He needed to hold you. He needed to taste you. He needed to marry you. He needed you.
"Hey, Elliott!"
The writer turned opened his door, delighted to see you. It was a rainy day, which was when he always stayed inside, save for stalking you at specific hours. You'd usually visit him on rainy days, and naturally he'd always be quick to invite you in. He knew you were likely coming over, which was why he already had a nice dinner prepared and everything.
"Come in, please," he said, holding the door open. You hurried inside and removed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the coat rack. Elliott headed straight for the kitchen, where he dished out the dinner he had prepared, along with the spiked wine.
He didn't have any awful intentions, of course! He just... wanted you to himself for a little longer than you normally stayed. That wasn't so wrong, was it? He wanted to savor this.
Besides, it wasn't like it was the first time he had done this.
"How are you?" he asked, sitting down at the table across from you. He waited eagerly for you to take a sip of the wine.
"I'm okay," you replied, giving him a smile that made his heart melt. "Just exhausted. I spent all day working."
He knew. He watched you.
"Then let me give you a nice relaxing time," he suggested, making sure to sound polite as he could. "Drink some more wine. Tell me all about your day." He didn't even realize his lovesick smile listening to you talk. He was excited for you to become sleepy and less aware of your surroundings. Then he could hold you and kiss you and you wouldn't even remember a thing the next morning.
It was honestly the only thing keeping him from going insane. He could be creepy as he wanted with you and you wouldn't even care. Although he'd use the term "romantic" instead.
After he nearly finished his own drink, he noticed his mind becoming hazy. He was a bit of a lightweight, he'd admit, but it took more than one glass to get him feeling like this. He tried to blink the dizziness from his own eyes, and could make out your eyes on him and a smirk on your face.
"Oh no, are you okay? You don't look so good," you feigned innocence. Even through his hazy state, Elliott could hear the smug grin in your voice.
"D-Did... did you...? Are you...?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence.
"Yep," you confirmed. "You've done it to me several times now, figured I'd return the favor. It's only fair, right?"
He should have been angry or upset about this, but he wasn't. Instead, his cheeks turned bright red as he stared at you in a dumbfounded awe. He didn't know what he was feeling right now, but it definitely wasn't anger. Arousal, anticipation, delight... maybe a mixture of all three.
"To be fair," you continued, "I never was really drugged. Just pretended to be, because I wanted to see what you would do." His breath hitched when you straddled his lap, holding his tie in your hand. "Just to see how far you'd take things."
"Y-You..." He never thought he'd see the day where his words failed him. But how was he supposed to speak when you were on his lap looking so delectable? He subconsciously licked his lips as he drank in every detail of your body. The way your chest rose and fell, your breaths as heavy as his, your eyes clouded with lust. He could only imagine how much of a fool he looked right now.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Your voice was soft, sweet. "Did you think I'd never find out?"
Elliott paused for a moment before chuckling. He rested his hands on your thighs and massaged them gently. "You know me too well, darling." He placed a gentle kiss to your throat. "How did you know?"
"How did I know you were spiking my drinks?" You giggled and kissed his ear. "Because you're not subtle at all." You licked a stripe down his neck, enjoying the shivers you felt from him. "And because I want you just as much as you want me."
He placed his forehead against yours and let out a shaky sigh. "I... I'm very relieved to hear that." He didn't even bother to hide his erection pressing against you. "If I could, I'd tell you just how much I adore you. But..." He trailed off, growing more deadweight. His head fell forward against your chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I love you. I love you so much."
You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. "You'll be fine, love," you whispered. "And I love you, too."
Despite Elliott falling limp into your arms, he refused to loosen his grip on you the entire night. Or the morning to come.
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Unknown, Ep 11: To Grow Taller
Alright y’all, I just want to say that I am not super thrilled with how Episode 11 went. I felt like they completely obliterated the emotional build up to the change over after they did such a great job of navigating it in Episode 10. 
So as much as there were some lovely images of hands, I’m not that interested in writing about it. So it is time, it is time to do the thing I should have done long ago. 
It is time to write about Lili and San Pang. 
Hands down my favorite part of this episode (and probably one of my favorite scenes of the series) was seeing the two of them interact, of seeing more of Lili’s inner workings, of understanding that she knows more than she lets on. I loved Yuan telling Qian that Lili is smart, and I loved the proud little smile Qian had when he heard that. 
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The most important scene in this episode, to me, starts with the height wall. That thing has been causing me psychic damage since episode one. It pans down to Lili. I like how long the camera lingers on her eyes. Lili has seen everything that has happened in their lives and she’s been spared from a lot of the violence, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t beared witness to it. 
I was really struck by her words to San Pang: 
“When we were little, Qian was always there to help us with everything we did. He would measure our height every year. I always wondered when I could grow taller than him. Then I could protect him.” 
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I know we have seen Lili constantly take a back seat in this story. We have seen her even acknowledge Qian’s focus on Yuan multiple times throughout the show. We don’t see her doing as much for Qian as Yuan does. She doesn’t know how to wrap up leftovers, she’s not a great cook, she doesn’t try to pay the household bills. But that’s because she loves Qian like a sister does, she’s got a secure position in the household, she’s not trying to be Qian’s partner, and it is a testament to Qian’s love for Lili that she does not know how to do some of the basic life things, because it means that she’s been so well taken care of she hasn’t been forced to learn.
There are all these little elements scattered across the series that show Qian’s love for Lili. The picture on his desk at home is of him, Yuan, and Lili at Qian’s graduation. He has the magazine she’s featured in on display. He immediately softens on his anger towards her relationship with San Pang when she asks him to go on a family vacation. 
She has seen how much Qian has suffered, and she loves Qian enough to want to shield him from any more harm. 
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And San Pang is so lovely in this scene, with his head resting on the stair railing, a sleepy look of love on his face as he stares at Lili. I love the way San Pang smiles to himself when she tells him this. Because Qian is family to San Pang and San Pang is family to Qian. San Pang loves Qian and wants what is best for him always. And I do think there is a difference there between the soft, dreamy, comfortable expression he has when looking at the woman he loves, and the small smile that lights up his eyes at the thought of Lili loving her brother enough to want to protect him.
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Lili’s face is serious, and she does not always look in San Pang’s direction when she talks:  
“Even though he is a few years older than us, his hands are always covered in scars and calluses.” Lili tells the ground. It’s interesting to me to see when she is comfortable enough reviving a memory to look San Pang in the eyes because she doesn’t do so until partway through her hand cream story:
“One year, I took the hand cream my classmates gave me” she looks at San Pang “and rubbed it on his hands at midnight.”
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The camera cuts to San Pang who is listening to Lili absolutely enraptured by her. And I do have to commend the show for how they have navigated Lili and San Pang’s relationship change. In very few frames, with little fanfare or flare they have made San Pang and Lili’s relationship clear, understandable, and believable. We’ve had like, two minutes of them together up through now, and all I need to believe these two will be together forever is all in the way that San Pang looks at Lili. That man is not only head over heels in love with Xiao Bao, he’s ass over tea kettle in love with her as well. 
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“He scolded me for it. Do you know why?”
“I do.” San Pang says with a smile. And I love that because we remember that San Pang and Qian have grown up together. San Pang has been helping take care of Qian and the rest of the family for years. You know in the way that San Pang smiles that he is remembering Qian as a young man complaining about Lili lotioning his hands in the middle of the night. Hell, I can picture Qian’s rant right now. “Because it smelled like roses.”
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Lili laughs and covers her face in embarrassment. “That’s right.”  
But like a lot of scenes in this show, the transition from lighthearted to more serious changes on a dime. Lili’s face slips back in to a frown as she turns over a thought. “Nobody cares about Qian.”
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And this is what it feels like sometimes, with how stubborn Qian is, with how much weight he wants to carry for himself, with how much debt he owes to the likes of Le, Xiong, and San Pang. But they don’t expect repayment, they did this because they care about Qian. San Pang has helped Qian weather many many storms. He has pushed when Qian needed pushing, he has pulled when Qian needed to be held back. 
“Yes, they do. We all love your brother.” 
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Qian has so much love in his life, if only he stopped long enough to see it. If only he let go long enough to feel it. I was not thrilled with how they fumbled so much of the emotional weight of Qian and Yuan getting together in this episode, but I am glad the show took time to highlight how much they all love Qian and to show the audience that they want to protect Qian just as much as Qian wants to protect the rest of them. 
All this to say San Pang and Lili work incredibly well together as a couple, and I’m so happy that we got to have this little moment between them, both to breathe a bit more life in to their relationship and to remind us all that Yuan is right. Lili is not as naive as she seems.
__
All gifs by the lovely, wonderful, marvelous @wanderlust-in-my-soul. THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU ARE THE BEST <3
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Happy 28th! Here is my April 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!
When All Is Said And Done by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 (76k)
“You must be thinking of another of your ex-husbands,” Louis snapped back, and Harry stilled, slowly turning to face him. There was something almost dangerous in Harry's look then but Louis stayed firm, not cowering away.
“Thankfully, I only have the misfortune of one ex-husband,” Harry said darkly, snatching up the plates and slamming them onto the table. 
*****
Louis and Harry were married, but things fell apart, ending in divorce, broken hearts and separate lives. Years later, their paths cross once more, and time together forces old feelings to resurface. But is it too little, too late?
Greenhouses AU Series by TiredTiredTz / @tiredtiredtz (63k)
Glass Closets and Greenhouses (60k) Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters. Sources close to the pair tell us the couple have been dating for a while, with rumours of house hunting, marriage and even kids on the cards! Styles, 29, is as well known for his whirlwind love life as his chart topping music. Most recently linked to British fashion designer Alex Millet-Sloan, Harry has stayed tight-lipped on rumours of any romantic rendezvous between himself and footballer Tomlinson, 31, yet fans online are convinced that all evidence points to #Tomlinstyles being the real deal. Not Conditional (3k) Harry is bald and this is how I’m coping. Set a few years after the events of Glass Closets and Greenhouses.
It Feels Different When You’re With Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (45k)
Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.
Every Lonely Place by HamPalpert (38k)
Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough. Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world. Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions. And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.
The Act of Making Noise by suspendrs / @suspendrs (32k)
“Oh,” Harry frowns, waving him off. “No, I could never. I respect myself too much to sing for a living.”
It feels like a slap across the face, but Louis does his best not to stiffen, blinking once and then frowning. “What?”
“Those people are always so miserable, you know?” Harry says, hopping down off his stool and straightening his sweater. “There’s so much pressure on them, and they have to work so hard to keep up appearances, I can’t even imagine how difficult that is. I can’t even stand to listen to pop music today, let alone watch TV or read the magazines. It makes me so sad, thinking that those people, you know, the ones who actually went into it with heart, they only ever just wanted to make music and instead they got turned into things on leashes being paraded around to make money for other people,” he says. “Anyway, you can have the stool.”
Or, Louis's famous, Harry has no idea who he is, and they get snowed in together at a ski lodge in Vermont.
It’s About Time by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (3k)
Best friends and roommates, Louis and Harry have been through a lot together, including law school for Louis, marriage and divorce for Harry. Their imminent eviction forces them to admit their feelings.
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Constant Faith and the Life it Brings
Part 2 of Constant Faith | Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!worship pastor!reader
Summary: After your church is robbed, Tim learns how you got into faith and helps you learn to share your story.
Warnings: mentions of armed robbery and past arrests, basically a testimony based on the request, fluff and comfort
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
A/N: I loved writing this!! The worship pastor!r dynamic is right up my alley and I definitely sprinkled little parts of my own testimony and time in church in here.😊
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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The days following the robbery are strange, but you believe in promises and know that God and Tim keep them. As Tim helps the robbery unit work the case, you meet with different church members to pray together.
When Sunday rolls around, and the sanctuary is still treated as an active crime scene, your pastor welcomes everyone into his home for service and fellowship. You lead worship as usual, but hearing all the voices mixing and praising God together, trusting that He has the situation in His hand and would use it for His purpose, is a unique and beautiful experience. One you wouldn’t have had without a walk through the valley of the shadow, you think as you finish a song.
As you go home Sunday afternoon, you think about everything that has led you to this exact moment in your life and your faith. There are parts of your testimony you don’t like sharing with just anyone, not because you doubt what God has done for you or want to keep His message to yourself, but because it brings up memories that remind you of a painful time. Living through an armed robbery and experiencing how much your church family loves and cares for one another, however, gives you strength and encouragement that your story could help others who are in similar circumstances. That inherent need to help others who are hurting, to be there for them, is precisely what led you to become a therapist when you’re not singing at church.
Tuesday morning, your pastor sends out a video message with excellent news. He tells you and the rest of the church members that the offering collected on Sunday not only met their usual numbers but replenished the money that had been stolen. You’re unsure if God encouraged everyone to give a bit more and support His house or if one generous donor knew what had happened. Regardless, the church isn’t in fiscal danger, which is great but not the best part.
“The L.A.P.D. contacted me this morning to inform me that the thieves were apprehended and offered a full confession,” he adds. “In addition, they have recovered everything stolen from the safe and it will be returned to us in due time. Now if that isn’t proof that our God still works miracles, I don’t know what is!”
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“I think that was the best run-through we’ve had in weeks!” Jerry applauds. “Not that they’re usually bad, you know.”
“We do,” you promise with a smile. “But, I agree, that was great! We’re back in the sanctuary Sunday, so let’s have a great service and welcome everyone back into church.”
You watch the worship team gather their things and leave, but you look up at the empty cross on the wall. Your Bible is lying with your things, and you squat to pick it up as Jerry exits the audio booth.
“You alright?” he asks softly.
“Yeah, I’m good. I think I’m just…”
“I understand. You’ve got keys, so take your time. We’re all here if you need us.”
You nod your thanks and wait until he leaves to sit in the front pew. Holding your Bible in your lap, you close your eyes and begin praying. You thank God for everything, including Tim, and you pray for him, too. He’s a big part of your life, even if he doesn’t know how much he’s done for you.
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“Can I help you, Officer?” Jerry asks as he exits the church. “Or are you here on personal business?”
Tim is waiting beside his truck, dressed in his patrol uniform. He looks up when Jerry exits, and Jerry hides a smile at Tim’s disappointed look. Most of your church family knows about Tim, and Jerry knows who the officer before him is and what – or who – he’s there for.
“Just waiting for her,” Tim says.
“She’s in the sanctuary; may be a few minutes. You’re welcome to go in if you’d like.”
Tim looks over Jerry’s shoulder to the door and nods. He thanks Jerry and watches him walk away. You’re more at home here than anyone else, yet Tim doesn’t feel as if he’s trespassing when he walks through the front door and navigates to the sanctuary entrance.
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The pew dips beside you, and you look up from your Bible quickly and see Tim looking at the stage. He doesn’t speak as he joins you, but his hand is stretched toward you.
“Sorry,” you murmur.
Your finger holds your place in the New Testament, the fitting story of Jesus and the “den of thieves.” Tim shakes his head and tells you to take your time. He sits back and closes his eyes. Maybe Tim is praying or giving you the privacy he thinks you need. Either way, you appreciate him and are glad he’s beside you.
“I- thank you for working so hard and catching them,” you begin. “On Sunday, we received enough money from tithing to make up for what was stolen. Between that and the arrest, I should be, I don’t know, jumping for joy or something.”
“But?” Tim presses kindly.
“It reminded me of my past,” you whisper. “And I’ve just been thinking that I can do more- that I should do more.”
“Do more how?”
You look at Tim, and his eyes are already on you. His focus on the here and now is appreciated, but he can’t understand what you mean until you tell him about your past. More than Tim, you can’t do what the Lord is calling you to do without learning to share painful memories.
“I had a really bad childhood; my upbringing, I guess you could say, was rough, Tim. Growing up, I never felt like I belonged or was loved, even in my own house, around people who were supposed to love me and protect me. So, I learned how to look out for myself and provide for myself, but I didn’t always do it right.”
Your eyes drop from Tim’s to look at your Bible instead. Tim keeps his eyes on your face as you speak, and his hand inches closer to your side.
“When those men came in here and demanded to know where the money was… part of why I stayed so calm is because I’ve been that person before. I was behind the gun once and it landed me in juvie at 17. I didn’t know why they charged me as a minor. I didn’t understand anything until I found this.”
You point to your Bible and pause. Tim doesn’t press, though you’re sure he has questions about your previous arrest. Because you went to juvie and were a minor with no prior record, everything was expunged, and most people would never know it happened.
“Someone introduced me to the Bible,” you continue. “I was carrying around so many sins, and they were a burden that never lightened. Initially, I thought it was desperation or boredom, anything other than a need for a Savior. I started reading and it felt like every sentence was written to me specifically. The thief on the cross beside Jesus, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and forgiveness of sins while healing physical infirmities… everything Jesus said and did felt like an invitation. I started praying and I felt that burden start lifting. After I confessed every sin, even the ones no one else knew about, I gave my life to Christ. At that moment, I started praying that God could use me and my past to help others who are hurting.”
You take a deep breath and apologize again. Tim finally moves his hand into yours, and your eyes drift to his.
“That’s what led you to become a therapist? LA’s best grief counselor,” Tim guesses.
You smile and chuckle as you nod.
“You’re good at your job, I’ve always known that. But the fact that you let a situation like that lead you to help others is exceptional. Not many doctors pray for their patients; I’d charge extra for that.”
You push against Tim’s shoulder as your smile grows. “If they’d told me that reading the Bible would lead to having two jobs without facing the price of sin, I wouldn’t have believed them. The worship pastor idea came in later. The day before I was released I read Acts 16. Paul and Silas sing praises in prison, and then there’s an earthquake and the doors are opened. No one leaves, but the jailer sees the doors and prepares to kill himself. Paul and Silas stop him and lead him to repent and be baptized. So, after nights of praying and praising in a cell, I knew I needed to keep doing it.”
Tim has been quiet since the moment he walked in. Though you don’t regret sharing your testimony with him, you begin to worry that he won’t want anything to do with you now. Learning that your girlfriend went to juvie for armed robbery isn’t easy for most people to move on from.
“I understand if you want some time,” you murmur.
Tim’s eyes are still straight ahead. You realize he’s looking at the pulpit in the center of the stage. He squeezes your hand gently, and you take a deep breath. You won't blame him for needing space, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt.
“I had a rough childhood, too. My dad was angry, and he got violent because of that. I actually thought for a while that he killed someone," Tim says.
His voice is rough, but you know why and you're here for him. You lay your other hand over Tim’s and turn to face him. His eyes are still forward, and you understand it can be easier to talk about stuff like this without looking at your audience.
“He was having an affair with a woman who was being abused. She killed her husband and my dad covered for her. That- that moment when he confessed and he seemed like a good man… it went against everything I had ever seen. He was a monster, and everything that I am is despite what my dad did.”
Tim turns toward you, and you see tears gathering in his eyes. It hurts to relive past pains, but your entire life is founded upon a belief that you don’t have to do it alone.
“I don’t want time or space. Your past made you the woman I love, and the strength and love you found during your darkest night… your story is special.”
“I could do more,” you whisper. “I don’t tell enough people.”
“You told me. That’s a start, right?”
You nod and lean your head against Tim’s shoulder. Your Bible folds closed with your movement, and you remember that your unshakeable faith will get you through the hard days to come, and telling your story may allow someone else to see the strength Christ offers.
“You’re amazing,” you say against Tim’s shirt. “Everything that you are, all that you do, shows that your past doesn’t define you.”
Tim turns to kiss your head and wraps an arm around your back.
“Did you come to give me a ride and a hug?” you ask.
“Yes. A ride home and more than one hug.”
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