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#clean off their face when it’s bloody
shotmrmiller · 3 months
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I like to think that Simon has no game. He's large, he's unapproachable, his stare alone scares away the women. Which was totally fine, until one day, he saw you as Johnny's screensaver on his phone. He was entranced, mesmerized. He's seen more than enough beautiful women on the orange youtube (his hand being his only source of relief for years) but there was something different about you. Maybe it was the tender smile you had on your face, or maybe it was how you glowed with happiness.
Or your eyes. Your eyes twinkled with affection, you looked at the camera with love. Love. That's it.
He can't remember the last time someone aimed a fond look his way. And whenever he stares at your photo, it looks like you're lovingly gazing back at him— and it gets him fucking hard.
Johnny once left his phone behind, for whatever reason, and Simon waited a solid minute, (60) seconds, before he picked it up, and took out his own phone to take a picture of you.
Simon wanked himself raw that night, his thick cum splattering over his screen, over your face. His refractory period that night was nonexistent.
And when Johnny one day was on the phone with you? When Johnny said, "Simon's here too, hen. Say hello." The way your melodic voice said his name? His cock was achingly hard within seconds, and he shifted around uncomfortably, willing for it to disappear.
It didn't. Simon walked with a wide gait, legs stiff, straight to the nearest bathroom and took himself in his hand. He gripped his long, thick length tight, and when he closed his eyes, he squeezed even harder, almost painfully. His tip was an angry red, from how tight he held himself, and that's how snug he imagined your undoubtedly pretty pussy would be around him.
He had to clench his jaw— grit his teeth hard, to keep the pathetic whimpers from escaping. Simon leaked pre-cum like a juvenile, stringy like egg whites, all over his knuckles and he hadn't even started pumping yet.
When someone knocked on the door, the snarl he let out was feral, a "Fuck off" so nasty, no one disturbed him again until he came with his head tilted back, and the vision of you riding him behind his closed eyes.
And then in the comfort of his own quarters, he pulled up your picture again— a blurry, too zoomed-in photo of a photo, and rut into one of his pillows, again imagining it was you. He thought of you on your back, legs open invitingly and waiting for him to fill you. He imagined the delicious moans you'd breathe out in his ear, your nails digging into the expanse of his broad, scarred back. He imagined your walls fluttering around him, the tell-tale sign of your upcoming climax, and you'd squeeze him so bloody tight when you finally did come, he'd move to pull out because there's no way he's not finishing with you. But you, you'd wrap your legs around his waist, and cross your ankles— effectively keeping him inside of you.
He'd cum on the spot, because you were effectively giving him your permission to finish inside. You'd rhythmically clench your walls to milk him dry, to take all of his seed.
And when his warped, fucked mind imagined you whispering an 'I love you' on his lips, he actually came, and he whimpered.
Simon's hips stuttered as his cock twitched and spasmed, spurting thick globs of cum all over his pillow, his bed. His breath came in shaky pants, his heart slamming against his ribcage.
After he stopped shaking, and was able to move his limbs, he cleaned his mess up shamefully, the post-nut clarity hitting hard, and as he switched bedsheets, he saw his phone light up with a notification.
Bonnie just sent this picture. Doesn't she look cute?
It was you holding a cup of iced coffee, and what stood out to him the most was your brightly colored nails.
He touched himself to the thought of those manicured hands wrapped around his cock, as you took him in your mouth 10 minutes later.
this was my inspo for this simon
@pieckyghost i really only have porn on my mind :( pussy on my mind, tighter than a headband.
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nanaslutt · 4 months
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Period sex with Geto Suguru <3
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contains: fem reader, established relationship, rough sex, blood blood blood, unprotected sex, hair pulling, so much dirty talk, this is truly filthy
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou-" Shoko's voice cut you off before you could continue cursing her out. "Good morning to you too." You groaned, keeping your phone pressed to your ear, you rolled over on your back, splaying your limbs out on your sheets. "You're on your period right?" You asked, making her choke on her spit on the other line.
"Why are you being weird right now?" She deadpanned into the receiver, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "We were together all day yesterday, and I wasn't supposed to start my period for another four days, so tell me why I woke up to bloody sheets." You growl, pouting at your ceiling.
"Crazy thought, maybe it's because the app you have to track your period is just... an estimate of when it will arrive..." She said, laughing into the phone. She held her phone away from her ear when you groaned into the receiver, rolling back over you put her on speaker so you could bury your face in your sheets to grovel while still being able to hear her. 
"Shoko, It's my 2nd anniversary with Geto today, I can't be on my period." You said, your voice coming out muffled from having your mouth buried in the sheets. "Well I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it sounds like you're on your period." 
You heard movement on the other line before you heard the tap running, Shoko must just be getting up to start her day too. "Fuck.. this fucking suuuuck." You groaned, lifting your head to lay your chin against the sheets, pouting at your phone. "It can't be that big of a deal right?" Shoko asked, her words coming out muffled as she brushed her teeth while she spoke.
"Huh?" You said, waiting for her to elaborate. "You're worried about the sex right? You're seriously telling me you've been with that freak for two years and you've never fucked on your period?" She asked incredulously, spitting the toothpaste out into the sink. 
You blushed at the thought of how dirty that was, how messy it would be. "Isn't that... kinda gross?" You asked, crossing your arms on the bed and laying your head against them. Shoko giggled on the other end, the water shutting off as her voice sounded louder now, she must've taken you off the speaker. "Nah, that's how soul ties are formed. Besides, Geto doesn't seem like the kinda person to be grossed out by that kinda thing, right?" 
Shoko had known Geto for as long as you have, so you trusted her words, but you still felt a little uneasy about the whole thing. "I don't know... It seems like it would just be one big mess." You replied, feeling yourself start to blush the more you thought about it. "At the end of the day, it's up to you, but from the way you started this call off by cursing at me like a sailor, I think having sex on your anniversary is kinda important to you, but what do I know."
--
You spent the rest of the day pondering Shoko's words. Geto was a gentleman truly. You had bled through on his sheets or your pants dozens of times in his presence, and every time he cleaned you up and reassured you it was alright and you shouldn't ever be embarrassed by something so natural.
Still though, just because he wasn't grossed out by it, doesn't mean he was into it. You weren't even sure yourself if you wanted to do it. Although Geto would probably reassure you to no end to not be embarrassed at the mess, you wouldn't be able to help yourself. Or that's what your anxieties were telling you. 
You and Geto had the most open, communicative, honest relationship, you had no idea why this was so hard to even think about bringing up to him.
What if he flat-out rejected the idea? That would be more embarrassing than actually having period sex and making a mess. After hours and hours of stressing over whether or not you were going to ask him if he wanted to do it, the time came when you didnt have a choice anymore.
Geto reached behind him and locked the front door shut blindly, one hand wrapped firmly around your waist as he kept you pressed to his chest, kissing you passionately. The way he was kissing you made all of your worries wash away, you almost forgot you were on your period until he slid his thigh between your legs, his hands coming down to grab your ass and start dragging your cunt along his thigh.
You tipped your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as Geto chased your neck, his breath smelling like the wine the two of you just shared at the beautiful restaurant he had taken you to. "Fuck... Sugu..." You whined quietly into the air, letting him grind you on his thigh, his lips kissing and sucking your neck sloppily. "Feel good baby? Feelin' better now that I'm kissin' you?" Geto mumbled against your neck, making you whimper.
"I-I've felt good all night- ahh!" Your words ended with a high-pitched moan when he flexed his thigh while he pulled your hips against him, the stimulation feeling just right against your clit. "Mmm.. you've been distracted." He whispered, kissing your neck between words. 
You cursed him for knowing you so well. He had said the same thing in the car; that you looked like something was on your mind; and you said you were fine, but clearly, he didn't believe you then, or now--he just didn't want to spoil the dinner by pushing you to talk about something you didn't want to talk about. 
"You gonna tell me what's wrong? Or you want me to fuck you so hard you forget about it." He whispered against your ear, chasing his words with a bite to your earlobe, making you groan, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck.." You loved it when he whispered in your ear like that. His filthy words never failed to send shivers down your spine. 
You let him pamper your neck a little longer before you stopped him, using his kisses to distract yourself as you tried to build up the courage to finally bring up what's been on your mind all night, or he was going to figure it out himself when he pulled down your panties.
When you felt Geto's hard cock poke against your thigh, that's when you decided it was time. You had to tell him before things went any further. "Sugu- fuck- fuck sugu stop for a second." You moaned begrudgingly, pushing his shoulders back.
Geto's lips detached from your neck, a small smile plastered on his blushing face as he stared at you, waiting patiently for you to speak. "I uh.." You started, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt as you spoke. "Take your time baby," Geto said, his hands rubbing soothingly on your hips, making your body relax under his touch.
"I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didnt want to ruin the mood.." You started, looking at the wall behind him, embarrassed as you spoke. Geto nodded at your words, keeping his eyes on yours so you knew he was listening, whether or not you were looking at him. "I started my period this morning.." You said, taking a deep breath before your eyes found his once more, gauging his reaction.
Geto snorted, his large hand sliding up your back to lay on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. "That's what you were so worried about all day? Your expression looked like someone had died." Geto laughed, dimples forming on his cheeks as he giggled. You pouted at him while he messed up your hair. "So what now? You wanna pick up where we left off, or is this you telling me you just wanna watch a movie tonight? Both are fine." Geto said, his hand finding a home on your waist once more as he waited for your reply.
"Huh? You know continuing...this" you bulged your eyes out, moving your head around to gesture at what the both of you were doing, "will lead to sex..." You said confused. Geto looked at you deadpanned, waiting for you to tell him something he didnt already know. "That's right baby," Geto said, pursing his lips together as he nodded, trying to hide his giggle.
"Suguru, I'm bleeding out of my vagina... y'know, the place your dick goes... when we have sex." You said, your embarrassment long gone as you tried to figure out why Geto was being so nonchalant about this whole thing. 
The dark-haired man smiled, his face dipping down to your ear once more as he bit the shell of your ear between his teeth, kissing the same spot once he let it go. "If you think I'm worried about getting a little blood on my dick, you're worrying for nothing," Geto whispered into your ear, his hot breath and deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "What's the point of having a sword if you're afraid to get a little blood on it~" He whispered in the same tone, making you cringe and pull your head away from him.
"You've been hanging out with Satoru too much." You said, your face scrunching in displeasure as you covered your ear with your hand, preventing Geto from whispering any more pussy drying shit into your ear. Geto laughed before he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, making you soften up for him once more. "I'm serious. If it's okay with you it's okay with me. Just wanna make you feel good." He said, taking a step closer to you so his chest was flush with yours.
You wanted to ask him again if he was sure, but you already knew what the answer was going to be. You knew Geto would have absolutely no problem reassuring you a thousand times over he was okay with this if that's what you needed, but you decided to not let your anxieties win tonight. "Okay... go get a towel and meet me in the bedroom..." You said shyly, feeling your face heat up as you looked away from him, staring at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"Yessss," Geto whispered, his hand forming a fist as he shook it in front of him like he had just won a medal. You snorted at his ridiculousness as Geto pressed his hands on your cheeks and kissed your forehead before pulling away and making a B-line for the bathroom to get the towel you asked for. "Get ready and get 'ur ass on my bed now!!" Geto yelled from the hall, making you laugh as you held your hand over your dress that had started to slip down your tits, your body making a path to the bedroom.
--
You weren't waiting long at all before he walked into the room, one dry, and one wet towel over his arms. You had already used the other bathroom in Suguru's bedroom to get yourself ready, discarding the tampon in the trash as you sat on his bed, praying that in the couple of seconds he took to get the towels, that you hadn't already bled through your panties and onto his sheets. Not that that type of worry was warranted right now when you were about to have sex with him.
Geto whistled when he walked in, his eyes raking over your body that was clad in the special set you had bought just for tonight. "That new?" Geto asked, placing the wet towel over his headboard for later. His knee dipped into his sheets, his hands opening the towel as he motioned with his head for you to come over to him so he could lay it down for you. "Yeah, do you like it?" You asked, pawing your hands over the big muscles in his arms as he fanned the towel out on the bed like a blanket.
His arms slid under yours as he crawled towards you, only clad in his boxers and half-unbuttoned dress-up shirt. His boner was strikingly obvious as his shirt flowed freely in front of him as he made his way on top of you, his larger thighs sliding under yours, your legs wrapped around his waist. "Fucking love it, baby, you look so beautiful," Geto whispered, pressing his hips forward into yours as he spoke, his hard cock pressing against your panty-clat pussy.
"Thank you Sugu." You said, biting your lip before he leaned in, connecting your lips together. You moaned against him, his lips parting to slot against yours as he swallowed your soft noises. Geto breathed out sharply through his nose as he made out with you, his hips slowly rolling against you as he held the small of your waist in his hands, using your body as leverage. 
Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him as close as possible as the two of you kissed. His tongue poked at your lips, silently asking for permission to let him in. You happily obliged, opening your mouth more you poked your tongue out to meet his, his overpowering yours in an instant as the taste of you consumed him, making a new wave of heat wash over his body.
One of his hands slid between the two of you to grope at your chest, his large, warm hand engulfing the fat of your tit as he massaged it in his hand, his fingers rubbing small circles teasingly around your nipple, making you whine and whimper into his mouth, your hands crumpling his dress shirt in your fists. 
"'S that feel good baby?" Geto asked, kissing you between words. You nodded against him, moaning louder as he started to press his hips harder against yours. You felt a gush of wetness flow from your cunt, the feeling making your body tense as you were unsure of what it was. "Just relax baby. Gonna take such good care of you." Geto whispered against your lips, feeling your body stiffen underneath him.
Slowly, as he kissed you, your body loosened up once more, you started grinding your hips up into his, repeating in your head that this was okay, Geto was into this, you were okay.
Suguru leaned back, his hands sliding down your body as they gripped your hips firmly. He bit his lip as he humped his cock into your clothed cunt, his mushroom tip pressing right against your clit. One of your hands was placed on his thigh, the other came to press lightly over your mouth as you moaned at his ministrations, the fire in your tummy getting hotter.
"I can feel you through my boxers," Geto said, slowly rolling his hips into yours. You blushed, your eyebrows furrowing together as you whined at his words. His thumb came down to press at your clit through your panties, his cock poking at your hole as he kept humping against you. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, abandoning your mouth as you moaned freely, your body squirming against the sheets as he rubbed your clit in small circles.
"Fuck baby, you're so fucking wet down here." He groaned, biting his lip as he touched you, feeling the wet fabric under his finger. You whimpered under him, your legs squeezing around his wrist when he pulled away from your clit, his hips pulling back so he could take off your panties.
You looked like a disheveled mess, your face a flushed mess, your nipples hard through your sheer bra, your chest raising and falling quickly as you panted from Geto's teasing. He slipped his fingers under the band of your panties, his eyes finding yours before he spoke. "Is it okay if I take these off?" He asked, trying to appear calm and collected as his cock throbbed at the suspense of finally seeing your bare pussy exposed to his eyes.
You nodded, your hand retracting from his wrist as you let him lift your legs, your panties soaked with blood and your arousal being thrown somewhere on his floor. "Oh fuck." Geto groaned, his hand coming to cover his mouth as he stared at your naked pussy, streaks of red contrasting nicely against your cunt. You resisted the urge to close your legs as Geto shamelessly stared at you, his other hand reaching down to his dick as he grabbed himself over his boxers, palming his bulge.
"Your pussy is so cute, so fucking cute." He praised, shaking his head in disbelief as he throbbed in his hand, his face heating up at his arousal. "Don't stare Sugu... It's embarrassing." You whined, looking away from him with a pout. "Nooo, nonono." Geto quickly retorted his hand that was covering his face sliding down to his chest as he unbuttoned his shirt, peeling back the fabric and letting it fall to the ground as he fully exposed his rippling chest to your greedy eyes.
"'S not embarrassing at all. It's so fucking hot." He groaned, palming himself harder over his pants. You blushed at his shameless words, your eyes raking over his chest as you tried to distract yourself from his watchful eyes. "Fuck." he groaned, continuing to rub himself, leaving you a throbbing, bloody, leaky mess. 
"God... would you kick me if I ate your pussy out right now? She's lookin' at me like she wants to feel my tongue inside her." Geto said, rubbing his thumb over his tip. You felt a chill run down your spine, your cunt clenched at his words but your legs tried to snap shut around his hips in fear that he would actually do it. "Don't even think about it, stop thinking about it." You said, the color draining from your cheeks.
Geto let out a giggle, his thumb reaching down to pull apart the lip of your pussy, spreading you open so he could get a better view of you. "Relax, realxxx, I won't do it... this time..." You missed that last part as you felt Geto spread you open, your ears feeling hot as he stared at your cunt like it was some attraction.
Geto was too distracted by your hands that he didn't notice until he felt your touch that you had leaned to the side so you were able to reach his cock, your hand palming over his dick, making his eyes go wide as they shot up to your face. "How much longer are you gonna keep me waiting, huh?" You asked, trying to sound stern but your arousal made you sound like a needy cockslut.
Geto smirked, his hand pulling down his boxers quickly as he shimmied out of them, his hard cock slapping against his hard abdomen, the small happy trail of black hair that ended at the neatly trimmed base made your mouth water. "Sugu, did you make your dick all pretty for me?~." You teased, referring to how neat and almost pretty his pubes looked.
"Are you trying to say I usually look messy?" He asked, squinting his eyes at you as his jaw dropped in faux offense, his arms finding their home on your waist once more as he leaned over you, his chest pressed against his as his cock poked your pussy from below. You giggled at his scrutinizing gaze, your hands cradling his face as you spoke. "Never baby, but It looks like you took your crotch to the barber." You said giggling, your laugh getting interrupted with a sharp inhale as his dick poked your clit.
Geto pouted at your teasing, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck as he bit the skin there, making you groan. "'s the last time I try to do anything nice for you... followed a tutorial 'nnd everything." He said, that last part making you laugh. 
"Yeah yeah, laugh all you want. Let's see if you're still laughing when I fuck you full of my pretty dick, huh?" He said, his hand pressing by the sides of your head as his other slid between the two of you to grab the base of his dick, rubbing his tip against your folds.
Your giggling immediately ceased when you felt his leaky tip bump against your clit. Looking between you you saw the head of his dick already coated in a thin layer of your blood, making your hands shoot to your face as you leaned back, covering your eyes. Geto smiled at your antics, the hand not holding his cock reaching up to pull your wrist away, "Baby shop that~ You don't have to be embarrassed." Geto said, his eyes flitting between your cunt and your flushed face, hidden by your hands.
"I've never done this before, it just... it feels like I should be." You said, peeking through your fingers to look at Geto, who was still rubbing his cock agaisnt your folds, the wet sounds your cunt was making made your ears flush red at the tips. "I know baby, but I promise I fucking love it. Look how hard I am... c'mon... look." Geto pleaded, pulling gently at your wrists for you to show your face.
Begrudgingly, you pulled your hands away, looking down between your legs at Geto's stiff cock. He pressed his tip against your folds, making your pussy squish at the top as he pressed hard against you, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit. "You think I'd be this hard if I was grossed out by this? Hm?" Geto said, raising his eyebrow at you.
You held your hands over your chest, your fingers fidgeting with the straps of your bra as you shook your head. "Yeah, that's right. Knew you were a smart girl." Geto praised. He looked down at his cock, his balls clenching at the sight of your blood smeared over his cockhead. He rubbed you up and down a couple more times before he found the entrance of your pussy, pressing in slightly as he fed you the tip of his cock.
You gasped in unison as it popped into the tight ring of your cunt, Geto took a deep breath in through his teeth before he pulled back out again, repeating the process a few times. "Fuck...Sugu... give me more, please." You whined impatiently as you felt yourself clench around nothing each time he pulled out, leaving you empty.
"I didn't stretch you out on my fingers, so I gotta take it slow, pretty girl," Geto explained, watching you pout at his words. "Unless you want me to?" He added with a mischievous smirk, already knowing your answer. The way your expression changed to a more serious one answered his question better than your words ever could've. "That's what I thought, be patient," Geto replied, slipping his fat cock in and out of your leaky hole.
"Fuuuuck." You moaned, your head falling back against the pillows when Geto pushed his cock in a little deeper. Your hand shot to his sheets, crumpling the fabric between your fingers as he took his time working you open on his dick. "God- you're so fucking warm-" Geto grit through his teeth, thrusting his cock shallowly into you.
Your pussy was usually insanely warm, making Geto never want to pull out--but right now? It was especially warm and wet, he had your blood to thank for that. "Sugu~ You're so big-" You groaned when he let go of the base of his cock and slid himself slowly inside you, his other hand coming to steady himself by your head. Your hands shot up to grab his waist, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself.
"Yeah? 'n you're taking it so fucking well." He praised, taking the opportunity while you had your eyes shut to look down at your tight cunt sucking him in, his brain short-circuiting as he watched your blood drip out around him, making a mess on the towel. 
He looked back up to your face at just the right moment when you cracked your eyes open again, looking at him with pleasure plastered all over your face. "Almost in baby, just a little more." Geto cooed, his hand reaching over to rub your cheek soothingly as he continued pushing his cock into your tight hole, making your face scrunch in painful pleasure as his fat cock stretched you open.
He thrust his hips to the hilt, the both of you moaning together as he pressed his balls to your ass, making sure his cock was snug inside you. "Good girl, good fucking girl. You took my whole fucking cock like it was nothing~" He praised, his face coming down to pepper kisses over your cheeks as he stayed snug against you, not wanting to move before you were ready.
The two of you kissed while your cunt adjusted to the stretch. Your hands roamed the other's bodies as you locked your legs around Geto's back, wishing the two of you could be even closer somehow. "Baby.." You whispered against his hips, making him pull back a couple of centimeters to look at you. "Baby, please move now. Fuck me, wanna feel you." You begged your hand on his cheek, thumb caressing his soft skin as you spoke.
"Yeah? How bad do you want it?" He asked, smirking at you as he rolled his hips against yours, his tip pressing against your g-spot teasingly, making your jaw drop open against his lips, his mouth kissing your open one. "So bad, Sugu please, please give it to me." You whispered, threading your other hand through his hair, your nails raking over his scalp in the way you knew he loved.
"That feels good, keep doing that and I'll give you my cock, okay?" Geto said, his eyes rolling back in his head when you took a handful of his hair, getting ready to tug when he started fucking you. You nodded quickly, whimpering as he lifted his upper body off of you a bit. Pulling his hips back, his cock sliding out almost to the hilt, he fucked it back inside you, all eight inches of his girth being bullied into your walls, making your slick and blood gush out around him.
You yelped into the room, your hand tugging at Geto's soft hair, making him groan in tandem. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you kept tugging on his hair, his hips starting a brutal pace as he fucked you with reckless abandon, loving how wet you felt around him with the extra fluids.
"Fuck baby, fuck." Geto groaned, his head tipping back with your hand when you pulled extra hard. "This feels so fucking good ohmygod. Are you feeling good too? Do you like this?" Geto rambled, your pussy created lewd squelches to echo throughout the room, making you blush. You didn't dare look between the two of you to see how much of a mess you were making. 
"M-mhmm, Feels so g-good Sugu-" You gasped, his cock bulling into your sweet spot making your words come out choked and slured. Geto let out a long groan, slowly rolling his hips against yours before he leaned forward and took your clothed nipple into his mouth, his hips picking up again. 
Both of your hands tangled in his hair as you pressed him against your chest, the soft strands of his long black hair falling onto your chest and neck, tickling your skin. "Oh fuck- right there, fuck right there baby-" You whined, your nails digging against his scalp as he bit your nipple softly through your bra, moaning against it as you treated his head roughly. 
His hips were so fucking mean, his pelvis grinding against your clit at the new angle, his bodyweight crushing yours making you feel lightheaded. The trimmed hairs on his pelvis tickled your skin, the rough feeling of his hard pelvic bone feeling euphoric as he rolled his hips against yours every so often, your clit throbbing against it.
"I can feel how messy you are down there." Geto moaned around your nipple. "You're fucking flooding around my dick right now, it feels so good, so fucking good." He groaned, moving his head to your other breast, finding your nipple with ease as he sucked it through the rough fabric, the sweet taste of your skin still accessible through it.
"A-ah- Don't say that-" You whined, accidentally tugging his hair a little too hard when he started fucking you at a particularly sensitive angle, his tip completely stimulating your g-spot and obliterating it. He groaned loudly against your skin at the feeling, his cock twitching at the feeling of his hair being pulled, the stimulation going straight to his cock. 
"Why not? You embarrassed? Embarrassed about how much I love your pussy? Hmm?" Geto asked, lifting his head to look into your eyes. You took note of his swollen lips, red from sucking on your chest. His flushed face and slack jaw, his overall fucked out expression sent a whole new wave of arousal through you.
Geto kept the bottom half of his body close to yours, making sure he was able to keep stimulating your clit with his pelvis. "Ye-ah-" You replied, keeping your lidded eyes on his as he fucked you, the tension in the room making you feel hot all over. "You're so cute, baby." Geto cooed, his jaw dropping with a smile as he fucked into you harder, making your head fall back against the pillows once more, your eyes falling shut.
Geto chased your neck with his lips, his head finding a home in your neck as he kissed and sucked at your neck roughly, his actions sure to leave bruises the next day. "Ooh fuck, you just got so tight," Geto mumbled into your neck, making sure to thrust his hips up against your walls so he was fucking you in all the right spots. "You like when I kiss all over your neck like this? You like when I fucking- pamper you?" Geto babbled, his hips losing their rhythm as his words made you clench around his cock, your bloody juices leaking out around his cock, dripping down his balls.
"Suguru- baby, baby I'm getting close-" You warned, your words coming out as high-pitched whines as his hips fucked you towards your high, Geto following right on your tail. "Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock? Gonna make an even bigger mess for me? He teased, his teeth digging into your neck as he tried to hold back his orgasm long enough for you to cum first.
You were making his mission nearly impossible though. The way your cunt was squeezing around him, your cries in his ear, your nails digging into his scalp? It was about to push him off the edge. "Fuck, I'm not gonna l-last much longer either." Geto voiced, burring his forehead deeper into your neck, his eyes screwing shut.
As much as Geto wanted to lean back and watch your blood squirt out around his cock as you came, he couldn't find it in himself to pull away from you right now. He was relishing in the feeling of your body heat radiating into his skin, making him feel feverish. "Ngh- Cum with me Sugu, want you to cum with me." You begged, squeezing your legs around his back, trying to pull him even closer.
Geto felt his balls clench, his abdomen starting to burn with his impending pleasure at your words. "Okay baby, okay, want it inside you?" He asked, biting down hard against your shoulder as he fucked into you, making sure to grind his hips against your pelvis after every thrust, stimulating your clit. 
"Yes! yes, oh fuck- cumming-" You cried, barely even able to voice your high before you were cumming all over his cock. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt your cunt squeeze his cock, your pussy milking him of everything he was worth as he released his first ropes of cum inside you. "Cuming- cuming- fuck- take it, ohhhh my god." He groaned against your neck, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fucked rope after rope of his cum into you.
He was unable to distinguish whose fluids were leaking around his cock, dripping down his balls--maybe it was a mixture of everything. Your bodies jerked and spasmed agaisnt each other as you came, moaning against one another. Your hands released from his hair as you came down from your high, your hands rubbing over his sweaty back as Geto collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck as his dick weakly twitched inside your walls, dripping out every last drop of his cum he had for you.
The two of you caught your breaths as you lay together, the air around you smelling like musk and sex, making you feel dizzy. After a few moments, Geto groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating into your skin. "That felt so good," He said, his words coming out muffled as he spoke against your skin, making you giggle.
"Yeah... Happy anniversary." You said, cradling his face when he lifted it from your neck. Geto leaned in for a kiss, smirking when he pulled away. "Best anniversary yet." He said with a childish smile on his face. Geto pressed a kiss to your forehead before he leaned back, keeping his dick inside you as he leaned back on his heels, pulling his cock out an inch or so to look at the damage. He whistled looking down at the bloody, slick mess the two of you created.
You only had to look down for half a second to notice the streaks of blood on Geto's thighs, let alone the mess of cum and blood mixed together around the base of his cock and your pussy. It truly was a mess if he'd ever seen one. You groaned, covering your eyes once more with your hands. You'd think after fucking him on your period, you would be less embarrassed, but that simply wasn't the case.
"Aww baby~" Geto cooed, giggling as he rubbed your thigh. "How are you feeling, does it hurt anywhere?" He asked, pulling his messy cock out, making you wince before he was leaning over you to grab the towel to clean you up. "A little sore... a lot embarrassed." You replied, not daring to even peek as you felt Geto run the towel over your cunt. "Sorry." He mumbled when he watched your body twitch away at the feeling of the rough material of the towel on your sensitive pussy.
"Just one nice warm shower with your boyfriend, and it'll be like this never happened." Geto comforted, taking the opportunity of your hands covering your face to look under the towel to see if there was any blood on his sheets--there wasn't, miraculously. 
You groaned in reply, knowing he was right but still feeling embarrassed anyway. "Look on the bright side, we're soul-tied now. There's no getting away from me~" Geto cooed, trying to get you to loosen up. Apparently, it worked, because your hand slid off of your face, resting on your kiss-marked chest as you stared at him deadpanned. "Seriously, stop hanging out with Gojo so much."
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deadghosy · 2 months
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THANKS TO @lazyemmy FOR THIS LOVELY IDEA OF THE PENGUIN! READER💗🦆
HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER
prompt: during one extermination an angel had kidnapped you and took you to heaven based off a common mistake
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“Quack?” You were literally trying to water the hotel’s flowers when you forgot about extermination….the leader of the exterminators had grabbed you by your sailor outfit Velvette made you.
“Shut your mouth short stuff.” You heard a man’s voice to see a person wearing a horned mask and a golden robe. You panicked as Charlie had told you about a man like this as Adam scoffs seeing your panicked state.
“JEEZ CHILL OUT YOU FUCKIN' BIRD BRAIN!” Adam yells as he enters in the portal of heaven with the exterminators behind him. He plops you down on the clouded floors to see the heavenly gates Charlie tells you in stories
As you waddled you seen a male who seemed to be waiting for you. “Ah! Reader..so glad to have you. It seems as if heaven had made a mistake and sent you to hell.” St. Peter said as he picks you up having the gates open. Your eyes widen at the bright light of heaven as angels walk and smile. “Welcome to your true home [reader]”
The air smelt so clean and not bloody as it seemed so peaceful and holy. After St. Peter getting your room and home ready to stay in heaven. You start to feel a little “home” sick as you hope the hotel crew was doing well and aren’t going crazy.
Which they totally are as Charlie is panicking calling her father.
After a few days , Adam will visit you a lot saying how he got forced to look after you…(he wasn’t forced he just liked how cute and pure you are but he’ll never admit it) Adam makes dumb ass jokes about how all those sinners down there should die and perish as he pats you on your little head. You quacked trying to show some worry for your friends down there.
“Oh them? Hah! They’re probably running like headless chickens looking for your ass.” Adam says with his usual grin as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Want some?” He says as he waves a piece of popcorn in your face. you sniffed it and ate it from his hand as adam's eyes widen at your cuteness…
you're like a little baby..💗😭😭😭
Adam grabs your chubby cold cheeks as he faces you towards him. “Never leave here. Okay?” He says seriously low with a protective tone as you quack nodding nervously at how quick this dude got attached to you.
Adam pushes your face away from him smirking. “Good now let’s watch this video I saw off of this human app called ‘TikTok’”
Lute didn’t know how to approach you, but she sends you small gifts that reminds her of you as you just open them like “quack?” And a head tilt confused but take it in anyways.
I imagine lute literally being your bodyguard when you don’t have any work to do as she just pushes anyone who gets to close to you away. LIKE IT COULD BE AN OLD LADY AND SHE WOULD BE LIKE “BITCH MOVE!”😭
After the 3rd day of the 1 week of being in heaven, lute definitely got overprotective of you. Always keeping tabs on where you go and which house you deliver mail to. I mean who knows what would happen to a cute soul like you? (A/n: Omg this sounds like a yandere…)
The angels love how adorable you are as they pet you. Immediately you are popular just like how you are popular in hell. Sera has given you a job as a mail boy again as you smile.
I can see St.Peter visit you when he isn’t on duty or just when someone takes his spot so he can say hi and hang out with you.
You wear a cute little yellow and white mail delivery fit thanks to sera who got a designer to get you to fit it perfectly.
You love how you still got your delivery job as you leave a cookie on the front porches of the angels. It’s like your significant signature to others to have a good day.
Adam and lute were arguing one time in front of you and you sniffled not liking the loud noises and immediately, and surprisingly. Adam and Lute pretended everything was okay to make you happy as Adam picked you up and took you away to get your favorite snack for you.
Sera checks on you as well with Emily by her side as Emily just finds you so cute and is excited to get to hang out with you more.
Emily immediately hugs and kisses your head amused by your small and kind soul she sees in you.
Sera would like to take you on stroll on week 2. She’d like to show you around heaven with Emily as she hold you in her arms gushing chow cute you are.
NOW I CAN IMAGINE YOU AND EMILY GOING ON A SHOPPING SPREE TO EXPLORE NEW CLOTHING AESTHETIC ✨💗
You showed yourself to be an angel by spirit as you helped a kid get a new lollipop, which makes sera smile at you being helpful as he is glad to hav with here in heaven and not they “ratchet” place.
You do miss hell as it had your friends who you got use to….you hoped they were still doing okay down there.
MEANWHILE IN HELL: “OMG OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT KIDNAPPED…IM A BAD FRIENDDD” “HON DONT WORRY, YOUR DAD CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM..” “it’s okay fat nuggets, they’ll come back…” *sad oink* and everyone else is having their own panic moment in their own way.
MEANWHILE BACK IN HEAVEN: “quack.” You said looking up at adam who holds your hand. “Huh? Jeeezzz bird brain..stop worrying about those loser down there…they’re fine without you.” Adam says smirking knowing damn well they aren’t .
Emily holds your hand as you waddle quacking at the ice creams around here. They taste so much better as your eyes sparkle at this sweet flavored treat. Emily squeals as her eyes got big and took a pic of your happy face. Sera most definitely got the picture on her heaven phone as her face soften seeing the new angel in heaven enjoying their self.
I imagine Adam is the one to be the one who claims to be the closest to you. But really he just brags about himself to you about how much sinners he kills.
I headcannon for your wings to be little cute fairy looking wings or pure white ones as you just fly.
You definitely have cherubim in heaven which makes the angels find you more adorable as the delivery boy.
You had made an account literally one day, and instantly you got 2 million followers which made you shock as Adam just munches on snacks while you quack panicked at how quick you became famous here.
I headcannon St. Peter to send you cookies with those cute little penguin designs on it. It looks like Christmas cookies but they are so cute and tasty
Say for example you fell and you couldn’t get up as you’re so rounded 😭 LITERALLY ALL YOU CAN DO IS ROLL AND SQEUAK AND QUACK💗 Adam is laughing as he takes a picture and video for himself before helping you up.
I can imagine Adam and Sera having a schedule out to plan who gets it hang out with you on weeks and days 😭
You liked the herbal tea they had as you waddle around with Adam having a kid leash on you as he just looked bored.
At the end of the week, you were sleeping wearing a whole ass cute gown Adam bought you as he literally dropped it on you with a flustered face seeing your cute smile.
As you slept…Lucifer snuck into heaven and snatched you up leaving a “fuck you” letter to Adam. Don’t even question how he got into heaven. Just be glad he took you.
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astrolynnworld · 3 months
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cramps
pairing: matt x reader
summary: you’re on your period and matt does anything and everything to soothe the pain away
warnings: fluff! period cramps, romance, care, reassurance, wholesome, pet names (sweet/pretty girl)
word count: 717
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i toss and turn as i feel my pre period cramps start to form
my period is not suppose to come for another 5 days but my cramps always come first, as a warning
i check raise my head to check the clock and see what time it is
“4:15 am” i see on the tv’s cable box
i lay my head back down and continue to shuffle around the bed to find a comfortable position for my cramps to relax in
“baby what’s wrong?” matt asks me with his raspy morning voice
“my period is coming soon, i feel the cramps start to overTAKE me” i say in soft annoyed tone
“is there anything i could do to help baby?” he concerns
“can you actually go get me my heating pad please?” i ask nicely
he hops out the bed and uses the flashlight off his phone to roam around the room and look for my heating pad
once he pulls it in comes back to bed, i hear him gasp
“what?” i jump in shock at his gasp
“your period.. came”
i sit up to see what he’s talking about and see a whole bloody mess stained into our bedsheets
“oh my god” i put my head in my hands out of annoyance and embarrassment
“it’s okay baby. i just need you to stand up for me okay?”
i get off the bed and start to feel the water works fall out
“don’t cry baby” matt says as he comes over to me and wraps his arms around me
“hey it’s not your fault baby” he tries to reassure
“you can’t help it.. you didn’t know, it’s completely fine. you don’t have to cry, sweet girl” he continues as he starts to play with my hair in the hug
i pull back and start to wipe my eyes as i start to sense that im being dramatic
“here baby, i need you to go wash up while i clean the bed”
i nod my head and make my way to the bathroom
“and hand me your clothes before you go in the shower please”
i do as i’m told then i head to the shower
i continue to wash up as i hear matt enter the bathroom
“hey pretty girl, everything still okay?” he asks
“yeah, i’m just finishing up” i sluggishly say
“okay baby. i changed our sheets and im washing the other ones now” he reassures
i stay silent out of acknowledgment but he doesn’t leave
“is there anything else you want princess?” he asks
“no thank you” i say while shaking my head as if he could see me
“alright..” he says before closing the door
i could tell he feels bad but i just really can’t be bothered rn. my stomach hurts, i embarrassed myself, im so annoyed, and i feel bad that he feels bad.. there’s just too much going on
i finish up my shower and put my towel on before heading back to the bedroom
when i get back i see matt had turned on the led lights, switched the tv to netflix, and had my tylenol bottle set up next to some water
“matt what is this?”
“nothing much. just me trying to distract you from your period” he giggles
“that’s not how it works sadly” i pout as i pop the tylenol in my mouth and swallow some water
“well, im gonna try” he comes in for a kiss
i start to get dressed, not forgetting the pad, as matt searches for a good movie to watch.
“do you want some to eat pretty?”
“is anything even open right now?” i genuinely ask
“only mcdonald’s..” he replies
“then yes please” i smile at him
“your usual?”
“yeah” i reply as i get in bed to snuggle next to him
“it’ll be here in 30 minutes” he says
“if we’re still up” i chuckle
“don’t worry. i’ll grab it for you so you can enjoy it when you wake up and not kill me for letting you fall asleep” he chuckles back
“thank you baby. i appreciate you so much, definitely a core memory” i turn over to face him
he smiles and places a kiss on my forehead, “i love you, sweet girl. don’t forget it”
——————————————————————-
taglist: @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333
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ceilidho · 7 days
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prompt: simon notices you in the stands (welder/amateur rugby player au). (nsfw, 1.9k)
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She’s in the stands again, and he doesn’t know who for. 
The same bird as the time before, and the week before that. Always a few minutes into the match, like she snuck in through the backdoor. She always leaves in a hurry, up and out of her seat with her jacket already tugged on, her strides quick on her way out the main doors. 
In the years since joining this amateur league, Simon’s never been tempted to talk to any of the people in the stands. For the most part, they’re there for one of the other players anyway. Wives, girlfriends, sisters—the odd cousin or fuck buddy, those girls dipping in and out, replaced by newer, sparklier versions of each other, the older ones licked clean. 
His focus narrows when he steps onto the field anyway, shrinks like horse blinders sunk down over his skull. Hardly a reason for him to spare more than a glance towards the stands.
Rugby’s not a sport for spectators. At least, not such a low level league. Barely amateur—just some of the locals with a bit of built up stress and aggression to work off. It’s why he’s here after all. Simon spends the hours of his day hunched over sheets of metal and carbon steel, sweating into the metal mask pulled down over his face and staring without blinking into the heart of the flame just inches from his face. 
His nerves are a closed fist in his chest and it grows and grows until he steps out onto the field of the local rec centre and hears the timer overhead start to count down and feels someone’s chest cave in when he drives his shoulder into their solar plexus, hears the breath whoosh out of them, their next breath in thin and febrile. 
It sets his head right. Violence with no consequences. At the end of the game, he looks the man he just bruised and bloodied in the eye and shakes his hand. Puts the world to rights. 
And he needs nothing more than that. His bills are paid, bloodthirst sated, thirst quenched when the team hits up a pub after the match, after which he slinks off into the night to head home with his hood drawn over his head, the size of him rarely inviting more violence. Occasionally it happens that someone with the bad luck of choosing him to mug wants to prove that they have the bigger cock, but that never ends well. Not for them at least.
Simon would fight for a living if welding paid him less. As it is, he satiates that beast in him on the field or the occasional back alley, and it keeps him in check.
But now there’s a bird in the stands drawing his eye and distracting him from the match. It rubs him the wrong way. The blood pumps through his veins more viciously, and the pretty thing in the stands watches the game completely unaware, a serene smile on her face. His gaze keeps being pulled towards where she and a couple clusters of fans sit and nurse paper cups of tea.
She cups both hands around her tea and he wonders absently whether she’d have to hold his cock the same way. 
It’s Gaz who calls him out on it first, panting hard after the first period and frowning at the scoreboard. “Not to be a dick, but that was bollocks, Simon. Never seen you miss a pass like that.”
Few people could get away with speaking to him like that, but Gaz is right. He’s been playing like shit, too preoccupied by the bird watching him with wide, rapt eyes. 
He doesn’t know how to apologise though, so he doesn’t. “Graves is a useless twat. Can’t throw for shit.”
Gaz rolls his eyes. “Not saying he isn’t, but you’re distracted. Where’s your head at?”
“Stay out of it, Garrick,” he says, not even bothering to meet his gaze, the warning clear in his voice. 
“Sorry for caring,” Gaz shouts after him as Simon jogs away.
He asks around at first, trying to find out if she’s someone’s relative or girl, but all the guys just shrug, no answers. If she’s someone’s, they aren’t staking a claim on her. It’s good news for him. Bad news for anyone else taking an interest in the girl that comes to their every match to cheer them on.
His urges sit deeper than the abyssal plain.
She’d probably turn tail and run if she knew the hunger festering in his belly. She sits sweet and innocent in the stands cheering him on and all Simon can think about is pushing her knees up to her ears and feeding his fat cock into her pussy. Shoving his tongue into her cunt, licking her from hole to hole. Sucking each puffy lip into his mouth until her moans go garbled, eyes unfocused. 
No, Simon thinks when she jumps to her feet enthusiastically at the end of the match, she probably wouldn’t like that. Women rarely do. Objectifying them and all those other terms that Gaz likes to wax on about, Johnny nodding along like he isn’t the same kind of mutt as Simon. 
Even during the day, she troubles his thoughts. Troublemaker. He thinks of her when he cleans and buffs in between passes, mind not lulled into the rhythmic emptiness of usual. Even the sound of steel sizzling in his ears doesn’t clear her from his thoughts. Instead all he can think of is her walking into the shop in a little skirt and top, and dragging her to the back where he’d bend her over the closest desk and pull her panties to the side before sinking in to the hilt, mask still on. 
He’s never gotten his cock wet on the job—never been tempted to. For her though, he’d make an exception. 
By the next match, Simon’s made up his mind. When he sees her sneak in after the match has already started, he feels his blood pump harder, his tackles extra rough. His opponents walk away wincing and cursing him under their breath, but it only makes him preen when he glances over to find her watching him, hardly able to pull her eyes away. Price would call it peacocking. He wouldn’t be wrong. 
He approaches her himself at the end of the match before she’s had time to pack up and leave, leaning over the railing separating the field from the stands, covered in sweat and grass stains and bleeding from his right eyebrow.
She stares up at him wide eyed, looking a little lost for words. “Hi?”
“Got somewhere to be?” he asks, blunt. He’s never had it in him for pleasantries. Why waste time when he can see even now the way her eyes rove over his chest appreciatively? 
“…No,” she finally answers, shaking her head. “Just home for supper.”
“Look like you could use a good fuck. Come round back with me?”
The blatant proposition makes her eyes widen, but Simon doesn’t see the problem. Figures if she doesn’t have a man, there’s no issue with him trying out for the part. He waits her out though, vaguely admiring the pert shape of her mouth, lips round with shock. 
Finally they come back together and she chews on her lower lip nervously, caught off-guard but considering it. He doesn’t hold it against her. His bird’s pretty enough, but he doubts she ever puts herself in the position to be asked. He sees the yes in her eyes before she says it.
Still, he enjoys the way she stutters it out softly, eyes downcast. Simon doesn’t bother with his goodbyes to the guys still on the field before ushering her out of the arena and down the hall to the locker rooms with a hand on her back. He drags her into the first empty supply closet he finds, locking the door behind them. She breathes a bit heavily, almost stumbling over her feet, and that’s the eagerness he’s been looking for. Proof his bird’s just as hungry as him. 
She definitely is, Simon thinks, smug when he hoists her up and her legs wrap around his waist without a second thought, her eyes already glazed over. Like she’s been waiting for this for weeks, cunt already sopping wet when he nudges her panties to the side with his knuckles and buries his cock into her. She grips him like a vice, slack jawed and whimpering into the stretch. He likes that. He likes it more when she digs her nails deep into his back, leaving her mark behind. 
“C’mon, don’t get shy on me,” Simon huffs into her neck when she tries to grab his hair instead, what little of it she can. He stares with eyes half-lidded at the way her tits bounce with each thrust. “I like it rough.”
She clenches up at that, dripping wet. Almost a shame that he couldn’t get his mouth on her first. He’ll have to follow her back home like the mongrel he is, mess her pretty bedsheets up and make her scream until she can’t even face the neighbours the next day. 
He doesn’t need her to tell him to know that she’s a good girl, doesn’t do this ever. Only for him. He can tell by how tight of a screw she is, practically purring in his arms; it’s a fight to bully his cock into her. It’s nice when she stutters it out though, strokes his ego the right way. 
“D-didn’t think you’d notice me,” she says, all shy even with her legs spread. 
“Hard not to, pet,” Simon teases, endeared by her soft edges. His slot right in, if not a bit jaggedly. “Been panting after it for a while, haven’t ya?”
“I just wanted to get out of the flat for a bit,” she whispers.
That shifts his perception of her a bit. Infinitesimally so, but still. He didn’t expect the bird to have a lonely flame in her heart. 
“Well, I noticed,” he grunts, and then bends to suck at the salty skin at the crook of her neck before pumping a load into her.
She’s a real good girl. Comes nice on his cock and muffles her whine by biting into his shoulder. He can’t wait until he’s covered in her bites, until his nipples hurt from making her chew on them and his neck is littered with hickeys like a schoolboy. 
Taking her home is easy enough after that. She lets him drive them both back to her place, handing him the keys with a little yawn when he tucks her into the passenger seat of her own car all limp and pliant. 
And he’s right, of course. He makes a right mess of her bed come morning. 
When he leaves after a morning fuck in the shower and breakfast, the cold sinks into his stomach like a lead weight. The fist in his chest is clenched as ever; Simon hadn’t noticed it loosen in the bird’s presence, but he feels it now drawn tight again. Maybe he thought fucking her would finally shake her from his head, but instead it’s made it worse somehow. The lonely flame in his own chest flickers.
He stands in the middle of the sidewalk and thinks it over while angry nine-to-fivers snap at him before really taking him in and scurrying along. Then he turns back around, heading back the way he came.
The next time Simon sees her in the stands, he feels his smile like a phantom limb. He doesn’t have to ask to know she’s there for him.
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melancholyhigh · 8 months
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ALL MINE.
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ft. leon x f!reader
synopsis. you realize you're in love with your roommate. it sucks that he's ignoring you all of a sudden.
content. 4.7k words. smut. slight jealousy/possessiveness, subby leon, dry humping, handjob, finger sucking, praise & degradation kink, unprotected p in v (riding), overstimulation, creampie, slight subspace.
note. i had mental anguish while writing this so i apologize if it's not my best. i'm also sorry for being so inactive :((
masterlist. i love feedback & reblogs <3
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Leon S. Kennedy was probably the best roommate you could’ve asked for.
He had fit the criteria you hand conjured for the perfect housemate the first time you met. Leon was calm, and the apartment was pretty clean. From what you can tell, he cared enough about himself and his surroundings. 
Hell, the place looked almost uninhabited save for some trinkets and a few bits of his personality sprinkled about.
Only if you had known what you were getting yourself into when you had agreed to become his roommate.
–-
The first month of residing with Leon was great. You rarely crossed paths and never really communicated with each other due to how stressful looking for a new job was, and then proceeding to attend said job was tiring enough for you to make little social interactions.
He was relatively closed off as well. Not talking to you unless necessary or common courtesy such as a simple ‘Good morning.’
After you settled in, you noticed how much of a strange man Leon was. For one, when he did go to work, he left for weeks at a time, and in his return, he was even more closed off somehow. Leon doesn’t spare you a glance or a greeting, only grunting if you ask if he is alright.
He’s also covered in bruises and bandages, leaving you more concerned.
It made you question who really was your roommate.
In the first meeting you and Leon had, you inquired about his job, mostly to try and figure out how your schedule would work, but also with genuine interest. At the time, he merely shrugged, not answering your question point blank, telling you not to worry about it. 
He mentioned his past job as a police officer. You’d dare to ask him more about it, but you didn’t want to pry, leaving the questions for another day.
Lately, you’ve been wishing more than ever that he had answered the question instead of dodging it. In rare moments that you focus on anything else but your job, it often leads you to think about Leon and what he does while he’s away.
It annoys you too that he doesn’t tell you when he’s leaving. He doesn’t owe it to you, but some nights you think he’s getting a drink, only to return a few days later bloodied and bruised.
One night, your overthinking got the worst of you after Leon returned to your apartment in the worst condition you’ve seen in the past few months you’ve been living with him.
Up late, you were in the shared living room, wondering when he’d get home. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Leon. It was way longer than his usual business days. You had been worrying nonstop, not getting a wink of sleep. Was he dead? You’d be the first suspect on the list.
You had called him multiple times, all going to voicemail. That is until you heard the faint creaking of the front door. There he walked in, faced all fucked up. His lip busted, sporting ugly yellow and purple bruises all over the exposed flesh of his body, and a bandage wrapped around his left hand blotted with dry blood.
He was awkwardly shuffling into the room, trying not to wake, you presume. A bit late for that. 
“Where the hell were you, Leon?” your voice breaks the early morning silence. 
You see him jump slightly in surprise, almost dropping his bag. A different emotion washes through him. A mix of fright and guilt, it’s different from what you’re used to seeing him with.
Leon quickly composes himself, going back to his stoic expression. Taking his shoes caked in mud off at the front door, resting his bag down, he walks over to the kitchen opening the fridge. The light streams out, illuminating the kitchen as you follow him, awaiting an answer.
“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?” His back is turned to you, rummaging through the contents of the fridge.
“You’ve been gone for two weeks,” you stress with exhaustion, eyeing his injuries. “What the fuck happened to you.”
He flexes his broad shoulder before turning around to face you. His gaze pins you down before he’s back to ignoring you as he chugs the cold bottled water in his grasp. The fridge is still open, and it adds more nuisance within you.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs. He finally shuts the fridge close, only the moon’s light filtering into the room. “Why do you care, anyways?”
“‘Cause when you go missing, I’ll be the one locked up, Leon,” you say. He’s staring at you, trying to suppress a smirk. 
“You sure it’s not ‘cause you like me? I’m here to stay.” Is this fucker teasing you? He’s nothing like you first met him. Maybe it’s the blood loss. But to be fair, this is the first proper conversation you’ve had with him in months — you didn’t know how he actually was. 
Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, shifting your focus to his bandaged hand, blood seeping through the fabric. 
“Let me take a look at that, please,” you urge, taking his hand into yours. You overlook the questions blooming in your mind to tend to his injury.
“Okay.”
You turn the lights on, searching for a first aid kit. Once you retrieve it, you’re back in front of Leon, who’s sat patiently at the dining table. 
You roll the sleeves of your sweatshirt up before carefully peeling the fabric sticking to his bloody skin. The large gash on the back of his hand makes you uneasy. It’s deep, almost to the bone, and blood spills onto his pale skin.
“Your stitches reopened,” you tell him, cleaning the wound with a damp cloth. What did he do to warrant such an injury? “If it worsens, you need to go to the hospital.” 
“Mhm, you work with patients?” You shake your head, wrapping the wound with fresh gauze. 
“What’s your job, then?”
You scoffed, “Some office job. What’s got you busy, huh?”
“Some government bullshit.”
–-
That night the relationship you had with your roommate shifted. For the better, you supposed. 
You also bonded better with him the following morning while driving him to the hospital. He was so dramatic, yet he continued to undermine his clearly serious injury, refusing to go. The bleeding had not stopped, and you were worried it could get infected.
He was such a baby. You had bargained with him for his own health, promising to do his chores for a whole month so his hand doesn’t get amputated. 
You never really did figure out what his job was, but you guessed it was most likely confidential. It was a vague answer to your question. He could be lying, but once you’re not behind bars, you can’t complain.
You and Leon spent more time with each other.
Even though you had no idea what his job was, he did tell you why he couldn’t disclose such information, something along the lines of putting your safety in jeopardy. Wasn’t him as your roommate just as dangerous? But you didn’t bother. He had his reasons.
Leon, on the other hand, probably learned too much about you and your job. 
You weren’t familiar with the city or the people, so it was nice to talk to someone, and you may have gone overboard. You were here for a better quality of life, and it was significantly better than where you previously lived. 
You loathed your job. Your co-workers were so condescending and passive-aggressive. Not to mention, you couldn’t quit. It paid enough for you to shut your mouth. Well, not to Leon.
You’re sure he’s sick of you talking and complaining. And when you’re not complaining, you both still get along about other stuff. You mostly banter, though, because Leon is such a child.
The guy can barely care for himself, contradicting what you initially thought about him. You care for him most nights after his so-called ‘missions.’ You rebandage his wounds, scolding him for not caring about himself while he’s looped up on pain meds.
Any other night — when he’s actively not trying to get killed, and you’re not incredibly busy — you both get drunk to attempt to forget about responsibilities. Often you were spouting drunken, nonsensical rambles as Leon somehow listened to.
Ironically enough, Leon cared about your well-being more than you do. Maybe you’re delusional, but you swear he does more than a normal roommate should. It’s because you’re constantly checking up on him, you reasoned. He’s just a respectable person.
But what kind of roommate consistently asks about how you’re going? What roommate get you your favourite takeout when you’re not feeling your best? What roommate threatens to beat the shit out of your annoying co-workers?
But you’ve acknowledged that Leon wasn’t your average housemate. Not just his job, but who the fuck looks that good when they’re bleeding out?
–-
Your job has a celebration upcoming, the company’s 50th anniversary. You barely made it a year working for the place, but you want to make a good impression. You also don’t want to bore yourself to death, so why not coerce your lovely roommate to join you as your plus one?
“I’m not gonna go. Don’t you hate that place?” You stare up at him, sulking. 
“Good impressions,” you say before pleading, “C’mon, Leon, please. We can go to the bar after.”
He gives you an unimpressed look before turning away from you.
“I’ll pay for you.” You’re going to go broke because of this man. It catches his attention. 
“So desperate,” he chuckles.
“You’re going?”
“I’m gonna run you dry.”
–-
You definitely weren’t prepared to see Leon in a suit when you exited your room. He’s sat on the couch, his hand nervously running through his hair — notably slicked down with gel. 
“You that serious about making me go bankrupt?” You voice jokingly, breaking Leon out of his thoughts.
His eyes trail along your body, admiring the dress you wore — how it hugs the curves of your body — noticeably gulping as he stands up. The black suit fits his body, accentuating his broad physique and nice ass.
“I keep my promises. I hope you do too.” He says, before mumbling, “You look nice as well.”
You smile at him, ignoring the unusual feeling blooming in your stomach.
The event was indeed incredibly bland. You’re glad you bribed Leon into joining you. He’s been your saving grace. His sly quips and awful jokes have made the experience increasingly more bearable.
Your enjoyment seemed to fizzle when your co-workers wanted to converse with you. They never did before. Why would they now?
Then you realize too late that they’re not here for you. They’re there for the attractive male next to you. You watch in amusement as the girl blatantly ignores you in favour of Leon.
She’s sweet, you’d imagine, but Leon looks awkward, and there’s an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut as she squeezes his arm in a flirting manner. The feeling is unlike what you’ve felt earlier.
You could go for a drink right now. 
The poor girl’s attempt at seducing Leon goes on longer than you’d like. He’s uncomfortable, and you admire her persistence, but it’s getting on your nerves.
Didn’t she get the memo? He’s your plus one.
You decide to interrupt their conversation, you’re not particularly proud of it, but you want to get drunk. Maybe you’re doing Leon a favour as well.
You pull him away, not offering an explanation, just the promise of getting wasted. 
When you’re at the bar, you both get settled, conversing and taking shots, all on you, of course.
Leon mentions that he understands why you hate your job and colleagues, and you laugh lightly at his claims. While you two talk, a few guys approach you, trying to get your number or asking to buy you a drink, ignoring Leon.
It wasn’t a usual occurrence, but it happened more often than not. And even though you find it flattering, it did begin to irritate you.
You politely declined their requests with an uncomfortable smile on your lips. It felt wrong to indulge in their proposals in front of Leon.
Leon’s eyes gleam with an unknown emotion as another guy approaches you. His grasp on the glass tightens, and it looks like it's about to shatter.
You once again deny the request. As you get more tipsy, your filter worsens as you half-heartedly refuse the poor guy. He walks away, visibly irritated. 
“That’s the fifth guy to ask for your number,” Leon states, taking a swig of his whiskey. His grip on the glass loosens, but his shoulders are still tense. 
You roll your eyes at his over-exaggeration. His suit’s jacket is off, revealing the white button-up shirt underneath. 
“I wasn’t interested. A few girls asked you out, too,” you declared bitterly. You’re not drunk per se, just very tipsy. 
“They’re not my type.”
“What’s your type?” Taking a sip from your drink, you observe Leon shake his head before downing his glass.
“Having fun?” you inquire, and Leon’s grateful you changed the topic.
“Liquor’s better when it’s free.”
–-
It’s the next day, and you haven’t seen Leon since. 
When you woke up, you had a pounding headache. You walked into the kitchen expecting to be greeted by an equally shit-faced Leon, but he was nowhere to be found. It was unlike him.
Usually, he’s already making fun of you for being a lightweight, and you attempt to make breakfast together. He’s probably still in bed. He did drink more than expected. It was a miracle you both got home in one piece.
You took some painkillers before heading back to bed. If you’re up to it, maybe you’ll make breakfast later. 
A few hours have passed, and still no sign of Leon. You wonder if he went to work, but that didn’t make sense. Why would he go to work with a hangover? Leon was a bit careless, though.
He was most likely ignoring you. That would be the last thing you wanted. He was the only person you cared to talk as pathetic as it sounds. Did you say something last night that upset him? He was his usual self, but you probably were too drunk to notice something off.  
He probably has work-related things to worry about. Not everything was about you. Though, you were still concerned.
You had camped in the kitchen for a while, waiting for Leon so you could confront him. You wanted to make sure he was alright.
When he did enter the kitchen, you tried to start a conversation, only for him to dismiss you entirely. He refused to respond to your troubles, getting what he needed and returning to his room. 
You thought it was a one-off thing, but sadly it wasn’t. Leon ignored you the following days, leaving you perplexed. You wished Leon would talk to you about what’s going on. Isn’t that what friends do? Communicate? Every attempt you tried to make was fruitless.
All he’s been doing was ignoring you, and it broke your heart.
His sudden indifference reminded you of when you first moved in. This abrupt disinterest in you left you staring at the ceiling in your bedroom, reflecting on your relationship with Leon. 
You despise how he’s been acting lately. 
You despise his reckless behaviour. You despise his hair that falls so perfectly. You despise how considerate he is. You despise how sweet he is to you. You despise how attractive he looks when he walks about the place shirtless, in short shorts that barely contain the flesh of his thighs and lay low on his hips when he’s sweaty after working out.
You despised how other girls looked at Leon. You despised how other guys looked at you, wishing it were him.
But you don’t hate him, far from it.
You loved his company. From the first night to the night at the bar. You wouldn’t want him to share that with anyone else. He was familiar, so it hurts that he’s been ignoring you. 
He’s treating the moments you’ve had with him seemingly worthless, the time you’ve shared — the late nights when you cared for him. The insecurities you have confided with him. Did it mean anything to him?
He most likely wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you doubt he could. His job explains itself, but you’re still worried as a friend — as his roommate.
Your overthinking has got the best of you, and fuck it. You’re going to confront Leon, whether he likes it or not.
–-
You’ve been building the courage to knock on his door for 20 minutes, pacing back and forth in front of his room door. You didn’t want to make him hate you more, but his bitchy attitude made you wonder why you even liked him in the first place.
Knocking on his door, you instantly regretted it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but you had to face him sooner or later. The door surprisingly opens, presenting you with a tired Leon dressed in nothing but his boxers. You probably just woke him up.
When you meet his soft gaze, his brows furrow, and he scowls. It’s been a while since he’s looked at you, so you can take what you can get. 
“What do you want?” Leon dully asks, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he leans on the door’s framing. Okay, so he’s talking to you after a week of silence, granted, not like he used to, but it’s something.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” you counter bluntly, glaring at him. His facade crumbles, shoulders dropping as he frowns. He quickly recovers, scoffing and looking anywhere but at you.
“What are you talking about–” 
“I’m not a dumbass, Leon. Just why? Are you okay?” you quickly cut off his poor excuse of a response. He shakes his head, his messy hair concealing his eyes as he tries to reply.
The look you’re sending him gives him goosebumps as if you’re reading him with just a glance. You are, and it’s terrifying yet so arousing that you can do so easily. Your eyes don’t leave him, trying to figure out his problems. It’s equally arousing how much you care for him, looking through him like he’s glass. 
His composure crashes, stuttering an answer you’re unable to pick up. You stare at him, confused at his sudden nervous behaviour. 
Leon’s selfish for wanting you all to himself. He doesn’t want to hurt himself with the rejection that you may throw his way. He doesn’t want to feel like that even though your actions say otherwise. He wants to tell you that, but what he says is much more pathetic.
“God, it’s you,” he repeats. The look of disappointment that crosses your face hurts. It hurt that he’s the one that made you look so broken so quickly.
“What?” Your voice falters, but you’re curious despite the ache in your chest. You’re not surprised. Maybe, a bit shattered.
“Not like that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he tries to formulate his words, a blush dispersing on his pale cheeks. 
“I was fucking mad, okay? Not at you– never at you. I hated how those guys looked at you. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. You’re my roommate, for fucks sake, but–” He continues to ramble on, and the words he spews give you whiplash. 
You’re simultaneously flattered by his words and pissed. He was acting like a prick because he was jealous. As much as you were annoyed by his immature behaviour, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach.
You impulsively crash your lips into his. He stops his rambling, startled, before melting into the kiss, his long lashes fluttering close. His plush lips move softly against yours. The kiss is soft and much better than either of you could’ve imagined.
Pulling away from him, you catch your breath, huffing, “You dumb boy.”
His cheeks darken in colour, the blush leading to the expanse of his chest. He grips your hips, tugging you closer to his body. You feel his dick hardening in confined in his boxers, pressed to your lower stomach.
“Fuck,” Leon gasps softly. You tuck strands of hair behind his ear, your nose bumping together as you admire his pretty face.
“All that from a little kissing?” you breathed against his bruised lips, your fingers toying with the waistline of his boxers. “You want me to help you, baby boy?”
“Yes, please.” 
You frown, moving away from his hold. His face falls, his brows furrow in confusion as he pouts. “C’mon, Leon. You really think you’re going to get to cum that easily after ignoring me?”
“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please touch me. I– I’ll be your good boy,” he pleads, moving back closer to you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. 
“Okay, sweetheart. You’ll get to cum if you behave.”
He captures your lips in a quick kiss, moaning softly before pulling away. He takes your hand, leading you into his bedroom, and you observe the new surroundings. Even though you’ve been roommates for nearly a year, you never saw the inside of his room. Posters of bands you weren’t familiar with were on the walls of his room. 
“On the bed, baby,” you coo, and Leon shuffles on the navy blue sheets of his bed, leaning against the headboard. You crawl onto the soft sheets, straddling him as you seat yourself on his plush thighs. His warm palms shoot to rest on your waist, softly squeezing them.
He tugs you closer to him, pressing your chest flat against his. Leon gasps softly, his nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of your tank top.
“S’much better than I imagined,” he sighs, guiding your hips so your clothed cunt drags along his prominent bulge. He groans, feeling your cunt dripping, soaking through your panties and shorts. 
You move back from him, halting your movements on his hardening cock as you’re sat on his thighs once more. Your hands grip his arms, and even though he’s stronger than you, he ceases his motion. It’s so fucking hot how this huge man submits to you. 
“You’ve thought about me in your lap?” you tease, palming his erection through his boxers. The head leaks precum, staining the delicate fabric. “Playing with your pretty cock?”
“Mhm,” he whines softly, bucking his hips to your warm touch. His head tilts back, knocking the wooden headboard quietly as he writhes at your touch. 
“Ohh, you poor thing. Cummin’ in your hand wishing it was mine,” you mock, pulling Leon’s boxers down to reveal his throbbing dick flushed pink. It aches for your touch, twitching and smearing his precum on the dark curls on his happy trail.
“Fuck, yes.” Leon whimpers when you wrap your digits around his cock, squeezing it, oozing more precum, coating your fingers as you stroke him slowly. His hips eagerly thrust to meet your movement.
“So, so pretty.” The blush on his cheeks somehow deepens at your words. His head is spinning, and not just from your touch. He roughly grips his silken sheets, bunching them up. You thought he was pretty?
“God, baby, you’re the prettiest.” 
Fuck, had he said that out loud? 
His back arches as he nears his orgasm, pleasure rushing through his body. His thighs tremble as he spills his cum, coating your hand. You don’t stop tugging on his weeping cock, living for the little cries he makes from being overstimulated.
“Don’t, m’ sensitive– shit,” Leon whines, and you finally take your hand off his spent dick, admiring his cum dribbling onto your fingers. Leon props himself up, chest heaving as he tries to collect himself.
“Did I say you could cum?” you tease. Leon’s eyes widen for a second before pleading for forgiveness.
“I- I didn’t mean to. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll be your good boy.” He sniffles softly, and you take pity on his cries. You’ll punish him another time.
“It’s okay, honey. Can you open wide f’me?” you say. Leon does as he’s told, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out. You wished you could take a picture. 
You place your index and middle finger on his tongue, pressing down. Leon wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking his cum off them. Moaning softly, he peers up at you through his lashes and gags when you push your fingers further down.
“You’re such a slut, Leon,” you say, pulling your fingers out his mouth, lips slicked with his spit. You flicked his nipples, causing him to moan loudly. His cock is beginning to harden once more.
“I’m your slut.”
“Think you can go one more round, baby?” you asked, hovering over his rock-hard cock, before sinking down. Your drenched pussy through your thin shorts stimulates his overly sensitive dick, and he groans softly, squeezing your waist.
“Wanna take care of you too, angel,” he murmurs into your ear as you grind yourself onto his erection. “Can I eat you, please?”
“Maybe next time, honey.”
“Fuck, okay. Can you kiss me?” You press your lips to his softly, and he whimpers sweetly into your mouth. Pulling away from him, you take your shorts and panties off, and they’re fucking drenched. Leon tugs your tank top off, and you giggle at his eagerness.
Your body, so soft and warm, is pressed against Leon’s. It’s almost enough to make him cum, and he’s not enough inside you yet. You slide your dripping cunt along his shaft, ensuring he’s fully hard. Leon fucking whines each time the tip of his cock nicks your entrance, begging to plunge in.
Every time the tip nudges your clit, your cunt clenches, and each flutter sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Please, angel. Fuck me. Use me– I don’t care. ‘M all yours.” You guide his cock to your entrance before finally sinking down slowly. The tip enters you with a soft moan. He’s so fucking thick. Once fully sheathed in you, you grip his shoulders for support.
“You’re all mine to use, right? F- Fuck, you’re stretching me so good, Leon.”
Your tight walls hug him so tightly, and when you bounce on his cock, each drag of his sensitive dick adds to the building pressure in his tummy. He filled you so good, reaching spots you didn’t think were possible as you used him like your toy.
Leon thrusts his hips to meet your pace, your ass slapping his thighs, making obscene sounds. He can’t get enough of you. From your tits bouncing as you rode his cock, or the expression you hold when he hits that special spot. 
It’s so much better than he has imagined.
He rubs your clit with his thumb, a broken whimper leaving him when your gummy walls clench around him tightly. The pressure in his tummy was rising, and you were no better as he played with your clit.
“‘M so close, sweetheart. Can I cum in you, please?” he pleads, his hips stuttering to meet each of your moves. His pink lips parted, eyes barely stayed open, and he looked utterly ruined.
“Yes, baby.” You trail kisses along his neck, sucking marks along the column of his throat. You’re pleased with yourself that you’re the reason he has those marks now. Each bruise you suck on his flesh adds another butterfly to his tummy. He’s all yours now.
“Cum with me, please.”
After a few more thrusts, the pressure within him bursts he cums inside you, filling you with his warm seeds. You climax along with him. Your cunt spasms around his sensitive cock, gushing its arousal, clinging to his happy trail.
You collapse on top of him, your head falling on his shoulder. Leon kisses the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. You try to get off to clean yourself and Leon up, but arms encircle your waist, preventing you from doing so.
“Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t want you leaving.”
You comply, laying with him, your skin, sticky with sweat and cum, clings to his as you both enjoy each other’s embrace.
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twi-liight · 8 months
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Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?
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Reckless Attack ❣
Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav. ❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore. ❥ Act 2 spoilers. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!
An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.
Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.
Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.
Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.
A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.
Well.
Fuck.
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ASTARION
"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”
Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.
They look away.
"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.
Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”
“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.
This time, it is different.
They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.
Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.
“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."
Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."
"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.
"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.
"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"
They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.
Fuck. Their head spins in circles.
"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"
"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."
Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.
"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"
"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"
"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"
"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.
He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.
At least there, they will be safe.
"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."
Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.
He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.
"Astarion," they plead.
He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.
"I almost lost the sun of my life today."
When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.
"It will not happen again."
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GALE
"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.
He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."
His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.
"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"
"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.
Oh no. He knows that look.
They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?
No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."
"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"
"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.
Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?
He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.
"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.
"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."
The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?
No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.
"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."
He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.
"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.
They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.
"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.
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KARLACH
"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.
They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.
"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."
Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.
All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.
Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."
"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."
Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.
She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.
She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."
"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."
Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."
"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."
"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"
"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"
"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.
"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"
Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.
"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.
"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."
"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."
❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3
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dearemilia · 22 days
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When you get kidnapped
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pairings | sunday, aventurine, acheron x gn! reader
tags | a little spoiler for acheron's part but other than nothing is too major, sunday has a little yandere theme, mentions of killing, fluff, hurt to comfort, not proofread
note | God, I finally managed to beat that aventurine boss!! >.< Also, the sunday part is a bit short, sorry about that sunday lovers! :<
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Sunday
He finds it funny how someone can think of kidnapping you.
He’s already informed of the plan because of his crows “What utter fools they are, perhaps a little punishment is enough for them to stay away?”
He’ll personally deal with them once his servants capture them.
He will also need to make sure you don’t know about this and that everything is alright and under his control “Dearest, you don’t need to be so worried, alright? Everything is okay”
After dealing with those fools, he’ll take you out on dates! Buying you everything you want and even the ones you don’t want.
All day, he prays for your safety and happiness. So if anyone dares to take that away, he’ll make sure that they’ll pray for their sins.
Aventurine
No one knows what he’s thinking of right now.
His subordinates don’t know whether they should speak up or not “Find them by dawn and if not…I’ll be sure to cut all of your yearly salary to 56%”
One thing for sure is that they are already searching for you.
It may seem like he’s calm but really, deep down he’s afraid of losing the only good person in his life.
Once he has you back, he’ll shower you with love. You’ll find in your shared room full of new clothes, jewelry, and items you mentioned to him years ago!
And don’t worry, he’s already dealt with the people who were involved in your kidnapping even those who only participated a little bit of it.
“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, my love…” He says while hugging you as you both lay down “I’m truly sorry…This is all my fault…” 
You gently grab his face and press your lips onto his forehead “This is none of your fault…You didn’t know and I didn’t know, it just happened, okay?” You smiled at him.
All Aventurine can think of is how lucky he is to have you.
Acheron
Okay, who would be dumb enough to kidnap you? Like seriously, who?
Your kidnapping happened while she was out buying peaches and you were at home.
As soon as she stepped foot onto your home, she knew something wasn’t right. Noticing how clean the house was.
She balled her hand into a fist, unsheathing her sword.
Just as you were panicking about what happened to you, what was going on, if you were going to be killed?
You feel a familiar pair of arms, wrapping around you, carrying you bridal-style “A-Acheron? Is that you…?” You feel yourself sob, feeling relieved.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you there” You rapidly blinked your eyes as Acheron took off your blindfold.
Acheron places you somewhere safe “Could you…close your eyes and ears for me? This will be quick but it might get a little bloody” 
You nod, turning your head away from the screams of horror from your kidnappers.
You don’t feel any sympathy for them, why should you? They were the ones who were stupid enough to think they could kidnap an emanator’s lover.
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peachedtvs · 2 months
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ALASTOR TENDING TO LICKING YOUR WOUNDS ft!Alastor
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✧ After an accidental paper cut, Alastor loses control momentarily and licks up your blood. 0.9wc
Imagine you and Alastor are staying up late one night, trying to decorate the hotel as a celebration for surviving the recent extermination.
All of this was your idea, Alastor simply tagging along as he was intrigued by how you were planning to decorate the hotel with mere ribbons and colored paper in a single night. The new renovations have expanded the hotel extensively, almost doubling its size—intriguing him on how your little passionate project could even be possible when done alone. If you were successful, Alastor could be content by the way Charlie's face would light up in the morning. If you failed, Alastor could soak up your disappointment! It was a win-win for him.
You furrowed your brows, hunched over a coffee table in the hotel reception, kneeling on the floor as Alastor sat reading not too far from you. You were focused on delicately carving the page before you, fingers delicately wrapped around a sharp paper-knife.
Outside, the rain was pouring. You never were a fan of thunderstorms, the booming sounds from outside snapping you out of your deep concentration every couple of minutes—some of the blaring clashes pairing with a bright flicker of light that made you flinch. Alastor found you amusing, being so passionate in something no one had asked you for, in something that would be unnecessary and also unnecessarily difficult for you to be done alone. The fact that you were pulling an all-nighter for this endeavor was even more entertaining, as you'd become all cranky once the next afternoon would come.
You let out a harsh sigh, your chest falling so far it seems as though you deflated. You regained your composure, holding your two hands close together as you pressed the page down into the table below—holding it in place as you carved a particularly intricate piece in the page when a shockingly loud crash thundered from outside. You flinched much too harshly this time, your wrist slipping and the paper-knife nicking the side of your index finger. You hiss, dropping the bloodied paper knife onto the table as it stained the pure white page below.
Alastor swore the air became heavier.
He didn't know what had so severely caught his instincts, but his wide eyes immediately darted to you before he could even process the situation—eyes locked onto the deep red trickling down your index. You hadn't even begun to notice him yet, hadn't noticed the way the air in the reception hall seemed to shift at the scent of your blood, how the light momentarily flickered.
You had such a sweet aroma.
An aroma that threatened Alastor's sanity.
Alastor's breath hitched sharply, snapping the book closed by the spine as he laid it as gently as he could upon the side table by his seat. Before he could even process it, your wrist was gripped into the palm of his hand—held firmly as you looked up to him.
The blood from your index trailed down the appendage, dipping down to the joint of your thumb as you looked up to him—startled by how quickly he had moved without you even noticing.
"Ala—"
"It would be wise to be more careful with that knife of yours, my Dear." He brought your wrist closer, his eyes locked on your hand. "Your clumsiness has put me in quite a difficult position." You looked at him intently, still sitting on the ground while Alastor was bent at the waist, holding your wrist up to meet his lips—when his tongue gently ran up the side of your palm before cleaning the blood smoothly. The moment he had your taste on his tongue, he felt his sanity slip away.
This wasn't like his usual respectful self, but he was unable to concentrate. Your flesh was euphoric. The kind he'd savor for weeks, the kind he wouldn't even need to cook or prepare beforehand. Fresh off the bone sort kind of sweet, a sickeningly addictive taste paired with a perfectly prominent metallic tang that had him wanting more.
Although, he was much too fond of you to rip you apart.
And so, Alastor vouched for slipping your finger into his mouth. His long tongue wrapped around the digit, a sting from his saliva sinking into the wound had you wince—your face looked beautiful in pain.
Alastor knew you trusted him, explaining why you hadn't pulled away. Instead, looking at him with a shocked and confused expression—ignoring your pain in his favor, just like the kind little soul you are.
Alastor pulled away, plucking a handkerchief from his pocket to clean your hand completely.
"My apologies, mon cher. I hope you didn't mind my little midnight snack." Alastor smiled to you, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his lost composure. Although, he couldn't hide the lack of light in his eyes, and he couldn't suppress the wretched thoughts that clouded his head. He wanted to sink his teeth into your neck, to hear your pilant sounds of pain as he carved his bite into your flesh. He wouldn't tear into you, no. Simply mark you, border on the edge of savouring you in his mind completely and staying the gentleman he was raised to be.
In his own strange way, Alastor cared for you.
He wanted to wrap you into his embrace, overwhelm you as you'd tried to shrink away with nowhere to escape from him. He wanted to engrave your taste deep into his memory, to dig into your arms as he'd hold you scarily still.
For now, the only desire he could fulfill now laid upon his desk. A thin tendril of his shadows had swiped both the blood-soiled page and paper knife from the coffee table behind you and delivered it to his bedroom.
Alastor was no sentimental man, but he'd treasure a memory of your flesh to the grave.
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You're watching...
© Peached TVs 2024
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runnning-outof-time · 8 months
Text
The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader
Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.
Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting
Word Count: 4350
A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.
"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.
"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.
"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.
"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"
"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.
"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."
"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.
"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."
"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.
"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.
"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.
"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.
"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.
"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.
Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"
"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"
"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.
John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.
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"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.
"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.
"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"
"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.
"I'm looking to donate to the children."
"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.
He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.
"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.
"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.
"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."
"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.
"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.
"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.
"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.
"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.
"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."
"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.
"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.
"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.
"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.
Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.
(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.
"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.
"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.
"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.
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John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.
"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.
To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.
"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.
"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.
John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.
Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."
Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.
"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.
"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.
"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.
Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.
"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.
"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.
"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.
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John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.
"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.
"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.
"The school?" Arthur questioned.
"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.
"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.
"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.
"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.
John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."
"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.
John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.
"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.
"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.
"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.
"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).
"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.
"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.
"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.
"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.
"Why not?"
"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.
Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.
Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.
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"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."
"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."
"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"
"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.
"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."
"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.
"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."
Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.
(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.
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(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.
Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.
"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.
"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.
"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.
"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.
"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.
She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.
"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.
"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.
"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.
"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.
"I'm rather terrible at dancing."
"You've not seen me dance then."
(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.
"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.
(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.
They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.
(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.
"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.
"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.
"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"
"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.
"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.
(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.
"Figured we could get to know each other better."
"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.
The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.
As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.
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-One Year Later-
Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.
"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.
Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.
Well...two of the guests were exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).
Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.
"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."
Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.
No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife
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fangswbenefits · 9 months
Text
Confession
Summary: You come to Miguel when he least expects, and now there is no turning back.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 3.9k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessive Miguel. Inexperienced/V*rgin reader. Oral s*x. Body worship. Dry h*mping. Br*eding k*nk.
Part 1 - Previous part
Miguel chose to give you space and time.
For two whole days, he had kept all interactions with you at a minimum. 
Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.
It pained him that things between you two were now in this limbo. You were still your sweet self as expected, but Miguel had soured. Anyone within a three meter radius could spot it.
So when he walked into HQ with blood dripping from his face, no one dared approach him besides the occasional spider asking if he needed anything.
He dismissed all of them and headed to Lab 2 in search of a first-aid kit to deal with the bleeding bruises. 
"Need help, boss?" a fellow spider offered.
Miguel shook his head, and kept going through the countless shelves until you came into his field of vision right in the corner of his eye.
His heart immediately skipped a beat as usual.
Holding a small bag in your hand, you rummaged through it and handed him two pieces of gauze.
"Thanks," he grumbled under his breath, as he pressed the soft fabric to his face.
"What happened?"
Miguel scoffed and turned his head away from you, not wanting to extend the conversation.
He heard you heave a sigh. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy. Can you please move away, then?"
This time, he shifted to glare at you in confusion.
You smiled warmly and pointed at the lab counter that was covered in drops of blood.
Oh.
He grabbed the bag from your hands and began pacing towards his station, but it seemed that you had no intention of parting ways with him just yet.
And that hurt more than any of his wounds.
Having you around was intoxicating enough, but having to go days without barely seeing or interacting with you, had taken a toll on him.
And the result had been sloppiness and being caught off guard by an anomaly.
Very amateur of him.
Very unlike him.
And all because he had filled his mind with you, since he couldn't physically have you.
But you insisted on being present in his life even when you didn't have to.
Miguel walked through the door and let it slide shut, knowing fully well that wouldn't deter you from stepping inside as well. 
"Let me take a look. Please."
He threw you a side-glance, and stopped to glare at his own reflection on the nearby glass wall instead, and determined that the damage could have been much worse. 
"Miguel O'Hara, stop being stubborn and let me take a look."
Your kind voice was chewing at his nerves, and he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from snapping.
He'd rather not have you at all than having your pity.
But then again, there was still that part of him that craved your attention.
And he gave in, like the fool he was. 
"Fine."
You were standing by his desk, and he saw the triumph glimmer in your face. "Take a seat."
He swallowed and did what you asked, allowing your hands to cup his face. Your touch had his stomach flip, and he couldn't bring himself from breaking eye contact with you, even when you moved your finger under his chin, tilting his head back slightly.
"Right," you said in a low voice, before removing the bloodied gauze. "It's very superficial. I think I can just use liquid stitches."
He figured as much, but his focus wasn't on his bodily bruises anymore, but on the delicate touch of your hands, the intensity of your roaming eyes, and, above all else, your warmth.
"Hold the bag a bit higher."
Miguel offered it to you, and you smiled in return.
That sweet smile of yours that had him tightly wrapped around your finger for so long.
His sweet girl…
Your touch left his skin briefly as you gathered the needed material to fix him. Miguel allowed his eyes to flutter shut, occasionally hissing from the sting of the antiseptic as you cleaned his wounds. His mind went blank for a few seconds, and he only focused on enjoying how you took care of him.
Miguel had forgotten what it felt like to be taken care of. He had spent so much time looking after others, that having the roles switched felt so foreign, yet so welcome.
"I didn't think you could ever get injured," you said with a faint chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence.
Miguel knew you were trying to lighten the mood, but he remained silent.
You worked on him with impressive expertise, patching him up.
Once you were done, you lightly patted the edges of the adhesive that covered his wounds and stepped away.
Pride settled on your face, and you moved to sit on the chair across his. "Looking good as new."
"Thank you."
He wished he was strong enough to ask you to leave, but he had missed these little moments. He had accepted you needed time and space, but it still hurt to think that he could have been there for you, and that you had pushed him away instead.
You drummed your fingers on the table for a while before taking a deep breath. "Miguel… we should talk."
"What about?"
"Us."
Miguel slowly straightened in his seat. 
You had his full attention now.
"I don't want things between us to feel awkward," you began, eyes fixed on his. "I don't want us to grow apart…"
He hadn't seen this coming. He assumed it would take longer than this for you to come to him again.
He wasn't often wrong about many things, but he had been wrong about this.
Cocking an eyebrow at you, he leaned back. "Then what do you want?"
Your gaze faltered briefly. "I thought it'd be easier being with you intimately. It felt less… suffocating. It made it easier for me to bury my feelings." You paused and swallowed. "I know people do this casually, and I assumed you felt that way, too…"
He remained silent for a while, slowly digesting the information you had just dropped on him. 
It felt like a confession of sorts, but that last part left a sour taste in his mouth.
"You assumed wrongly," he finally spoke, face twisting into a light scowl. "Is this why you pushed me away the other day? Because you think I only look at you that way?"
Your eyes shot up and you shook your head. "I didn't push you away… I… never meant for that, anyway. I just needed time to think," you said in a whisper. "Like I said, I know some people do this casually… and I would be fine with you just wanting that. I still am," you corrected yourself.
A part of Miguel felt incredulous at this turn of events. Were you confessing you had deeper feelings for him? Or was it all surface-level? 
But another part of him wasn't allowing him to fully savour the first possibility. He wanted you. He needed you. But the conclusion you had drawn of him stirred annoyance inside him.
"What do you want from me?" He snapped a bit too harshly.
Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.
"Sex? I can give you that," he said dryly. "But that is not all I want. Is that all you want?"
You looked restless. "I… I think I want more."
"You think? I don't want anything from you that you won't give willingly," he said in a softer tone this time. "This doesn't have to be more than it is. If all you want is intimacy, I can help you out. But I wish for more, and I want you aware of that."
You remained still for a while as if weighing your options.
Not long after, you nodded.
There was absolutely no doubt inside him. He was sure of how he felt about you, and he was too desperate to have anything he could take. Even casual sexual intimacy if that was what it took to soothe his frustration.
But he couldn't hide his true intentions any longer, and had to make things crystal clear for you.
"What about Tom?"
Your eyes widened. "Tom?"
"Yes. How do you feel about him?"
He needed reassurance.
"We'll work on rebuilding our friendship… but that's it."
That was good enough. Realistically, Miguel didn't expect you to sever your bond to your childhood friend. He didn't even want you to, so long as you weren't getting your feelings hurt.
You then rose to your feet and walked to him with unsure steps. Once you were in front of him, Miguel instinctively parted his legs, allowing your to close the distance between you two.
You glanced around you, and Miguel knew what you were silently assessing.
With a quick tap of a finger on his watch, rendering the glass windows opaque.
The newfound privacy made you visibly relax, and you brought your hands to either side of his head, before raking gentle fingers through his hair.
Miguel had to bite back a moan, and tilted his head back, angling it perfectly with yours.
His heart drummed rapidly inside him as you lowered your face to press the softest kiss to his forehead, and he brought his arms to envelop you into a tight embrace, his chin resting in between your breasts.
There was comfort in this type of silence.
Actions did speak louder than words, after all.
The way you began trailing kisses down his face, carefully avoiding his wounds, had him melting into your touch.
You hesitated upon reaching his lips, hovering over them with your own.
He could feel your breath fanning them rhythmically, and he felt the impending erection stirring down below.
And then you kissed him.
It was shy and controlled at first, but he quickly parted his lips, deepening the kiss. You moaned into him first, gently tugging at strands of his hair. Miguel's groan tore through his throat and he dropped his hands to your waist, gripping them tightly and bringing you closer to his strained erection.
You jolted once you felt it nudging your legs, breaking the kiss momentarily.
"Hard already?" 
The genuine tease in your voice awoke in him the urge to breed you. It was primal and intense, and he knew he should keep that to himself for now. However, he would need to know if you were on birth control eventually. 
"You make it easy," he chose to say, placing one hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another kiss.
He would devour you if you allowed him to.
His tongue slipped past his lips and met yours halfway. You tugged at his hair again and he bucked his hips against you.
He was so painfully hard and already dripping precum.
Just for you.
His sweet girl.
You let him take control and only parted from him once his other hand began to move to your front, fingers dipping between your legs.
Your body language told him to immediately stop, and he did.
"I'm sorry."
You shook your head. "I'm… still getting used to this…" your voice was but a whisper. "Can I… come over to your place later today?"
His cock was throbbing impatiently, craving release from his tight digital suit, but he nodded.
He wanted you to feel comfortable and safe around him, so he placed your needs above his.
He silently vowed to always do this.
You brought your lips to his unarmed cheek and pressed a fleeting peck to it.
"See you later, Mr. Grumpy," you said with a smile before exiting through the sliding door.
Miguel looked down at the visible outline of his cock and contemplated easing some of the tension, but he decided against it.
He would gladly build up all the frustration within him and only you would be able to relieve him from it.
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You came to him late at night, before the clock struck midnight.
For the second time that day, you had come to him.
Your steps echoed through the hall and you came into sight, immediately earning his undivided attention. 
"Hey, you."
Miguel's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Hey."
You were wearing a flowery dress that trapped his gaze. It fit you perfectly, but he couldn't wait to get it off you.
Laughing nervously, you took determined steps to where he sat on his couch until you were close enough. 
Miguel met your eyes and watched carefully as you lowered yourself to straddle his waist. Instinctively, his hands slipped under your dress to grip your hips into him.
Then he noticed you weren't wearing anything underneath.
You giggled, biting your lip teasingly. "Is this too much?"
"It's not even enough."
He caressed your skin with his thumbs, as he positioned you right on top of his hardening cock, that was now stirring slowly inside his sweatpants.
You gasped softly as your folds parted to accommodate the underside of his cock, increasing the pressure on your clit.
Miguel considered immediately removed the only layer of clothing that was in the way, but he wanted to feel you soak the fabric.
"I really, really like you," you said through half-hooded eyes, caressing the edges of the bandage covering the wound on his cheek.
Then, you took his lips in yours.
This time, you were the one taking the lead and he let you set the pace. He tasted the impatience and hunger in you, and helped you grind against him. You were a fast learner. You already knew how to sway your hips sensually against his cock, drawing a low groan from him.
Miguel felt his cock fully harden just from feeling your body undulating under the palms of his hands. 
You were going to kill him one day. He was sure of this.
Your hands moved from his shoulder to your chest, undoing the cute buttons that held the dress together.
He broke the kiss so he could marvel at your breasts coming into view, as you allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders and arms.
The nipple piercings glistened, and he felt his cock twitch from the sight of the spider pendant dangling from each of them.
He wanted to make you custom ones. Maybe with his own symbol. Or his initials. He wanted to mark you as his, and what better way than this?
"Please touch me," you begged, arching your back lightly.
Sweet.
Hungry.
His.
He brought both hands to your chest and grazed your nipples with the pads of both thumbs, hardening them.
You moaned softly, and kept riding his clothed cock.
"Can I tug gently?"
"Please…"
Miguel's hips jerked to meet yours, and he felt your wetness finally seeping through his pants.
He twirled your nipples at first in between his fingers, before gripping the metal piercing, tugging ever so slightly in awe.
You gasped loudly this time, stilling yourself as he admired the jewelry.
"I'll make you custom ones," he promised, as he positioned himself to press a kiss to one nipple. "With my symbol."
You whimpered with a nod. "Yes…"
You'd look so pretty being marked by him.
He wrapped his lips around the nipple, capturing and twirling the pendant with his tongue.
Too bad you hadn't been bred yet. He would have loved to taste your milk as you carried his child. 
You pressed down on him, and the motion of your pussy dragging along his cock was enough to draw the first beads of precum.
He couldn't care less that he was about to get soaked in it, as he knew his body was only trying to prepare itself to be inside yours.
"Slowly… Miguel…" you pleaded in between moans, burying your hands in his hair. "Miguel…"
He could easily get addicted to you mumbling his name like that, but he did release the nipple, admiring how perky it looked.
Before he could have it in his mouth for a second round, you slipped off of him, settling on the floor and in between his legs.
He quickly spotted the damp spot along the outline of his cock from you grinding viciously on him.
"What is it?" he asked, unsure of what to do next.
A faint pout settled on your lips. "Can I… can you show me how to… do it?"
His eyes widened at the realisation of what you meant when your gaze landed on his crotch.
"Are you sure?"
You merely nodded, hands grasping at his waistband, gently pulling it down until his cock sprang free.
Immediately, you straightened yourself and shifted closer. He could feel your curious gaze on him, as strings of precum dripped from the tip.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering how long it would take for him to cum from this.
"Open your mouth," he breathed, and you immediately complied. "Just give it a few licks first."
You nodded and darted out your tongue to press it flat along the underside of his cock.
He immediately flinched, but still gripping it at the base to to push it towards you.
You pulled back with a pout. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing. It feels really good…"
A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "What now?"
He inhaled sharply, trying to keep himself from going over the edge too soon.
"Lick the tip…" 
This time, you wrapped your fingers around him, and positioned yourself until your tongue grazed along the tip, collecting the thick droplets of precum.
He had to grip the cushions on his couch to steady himself, not wanting to accidentally shove his cock into your mouth.
You kept your eyes on him, working your tongue around the sensitive tip until he saw the strings of precum mixed with your saliva begin to dribble from the corners of your mouth.
He immediately pressed his eyes shut.
The visual stimulation would only make him reach his peak faster, and he wanted you to be able to take his cock in your mouth before he exploded.
You kept giving him quick licks, further edging him.
"You need to stop…" he groaned, his hips lifting from the couch. "Please…"
Once you did, he opened his eyes again only to be met by the thick and long strings of precum of either side of your chin to drip down to your breasts.
"Too much?" you asked shyly, swiping your tongue along your bottom lip.
Fuck.
You looked so fucking delicious.
But he needed more.
"Do you think you can fit it in your mouth now?"
You quickly nodded. "I think so."
Miguel knew he was not going to last long. "Go slowly…"
You didn't need to be told twice, and craned your neck before lowering yourself and sliding the tip past your lips.
His hips instantly bucked, further sliding in and nearly gagging you.
"I'm sorry," he blurted out, lovingly caressing your cheek.
You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was hard to do with his thick cock stuffing your mouth.
"Suck gently…" he said with a groan that quickly turned into a hiss once you began to suckle softly. "Just like that…"
You were so good for him…
He saw your eyes watering slightly as you took him even deeper. "Don't be greedy… you're doing just fine, sweet girl."
By this point, more beads of precum and saliva began to spill from the corners of your mouth, streaming down your face until they connected under your chin into a single strand that dangled further and further down.
Miguel felt his balls tighten lightly as a warning sign.
He was actually impressed with how long it was taking for him to reach an orgasm.
And that was when he decided he didn't want to cum just yet.
Slowly, he gripped your chin and slid off your mouth, earning a muffled protest from you until he was fully out, a string of precum bridging your lower lip to his tip.
"Miguel… why?"
You were pouting again and he nearly lost it. 
"Come here," he asked, trying not to focus too much on how his body was throbbing for release.
You wiped the wetness from your face with the back of your hand, but did as you were told, standing up.
"Do you trust me?"
You nodded right away. 
"I want you to lay on your back," he instructed with a sultry voice. "Then I want your legs over my shoulders."
You seemed to hesitate at first, but moved to sit on his thighs, as Miguel grabbed your hips to help you slide into his desired position. Your legs parted to rest on his shoulders and he effortless lifted your hips.
"Oh…" you drawled out as your dress slid up your thighs, until you were fully exposed to him.
Miguel almost groaned at the sight of your swollen clit peeking through your soaked folds.
"Tell me if it gets too much."
"Why would I-" your words did in your mouth the moment he dragged his tongue across your folds, tasting you for the first time.
He felt your hips jerk lightly under his touch, but he had decided to bring you over the edge with just his mouth.
So, naturally, Miguel began to eat you out.
His thirst for you was satiated with each flick of his tongue across your throbbing clit, yanking the most delicious gasps and whimpers from you.
He first let his tongue slide past your opening, as his nose pressed against your clit.
You choked on a sob as he went deeper. "Oh…oh my…"
Your wetness quickly began to coat his his lips and chin, as he continued to feast on your tast.
"Miguel… I… please…"
His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, and he slipped out of you only to wrap his lips around your clit.
Your hips bucked violently into him, and he had to still you with both hands, so he could properly suckle on it.
More wetness spilled from you, fueling Miguel's ego, as it was the best indicator that your body was yearning for him to breed you. He felt it pool in his tongue and eagerly swallowed as much as he could, feeling intoxicated with your taste.
He sucked a bit more fiercely and could tell you were close. So, so close.
Come for me, cariño…
You were mumbling his name with other incoherent words as you reached your peak.
As soon as he felt you tip over the edge, he let go of your clit and plunged his tongue inside, so he could feel your contracting rhythmically around him.
Your whimpers turned into loud grunts as your orgasm spread throughout your body like wildfire. Your legs began to shake and he wrapped his fingers around his own cock, pumping it in unison with each contraction.
His senses were completely flooded and it didn't take long for his balls to tighten and the first spurts of cum to gush from the tip.
As you descended from your bliss, Miguel entered his, leaning back against the backrest and groaning loudly as he rolled his own hips, desperately fucking his hand.
His fangs were fully on display as your wetness dripped from them while also running down his chin and neck.
By the time he was able to come to his senses again, you had slipped from his grasp, kneeling on the floor with your head pressed to his thigh, breathing erratically.
The two of you remained silent, as both struggled to even out your breaths.
His cum had landed on his shirt, seeping through the fabric and dribbling down his toned abdomen.
"Do you want to spend the night…" Miguel finally managed to find his words again, caressing your cheek approvingly.
You were panting heavily and could only nod.
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Part 8
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Masterlist
7K notes · View notes
vanderilnde · 2 months
Note
NEED to know what happens after butcher!Simon beat the guy to pulp 😭 Does reader ends up insisting to tend his split and bloody knuckles hence bringing him into her apartment and Simon just decides that it's his second home now. Cause wdym it's not? She practically invited him in?? He's her problem now, like a stray.
“and Simon just decides that it’s his second home now / he’s her problem now, like a stray”
OHHHHH MY GOD????? SO FUCKING TRUE ANON!!!
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When the pounding had petered out, you weren’t allowed to leave your flat. Simon’s parlance held an undercurrent of finality, so you listened. Listened to the soft rustling and thudding on the other side of your door, the grunts of labour let out by him. And when he was done, when only a crude, mulberry outline of blood coagulated into the carpet outside of his flat, you called him inside. 
You decided to refrain from asking any questions.
You just seated Simon at your dining table—which he seemed to giant—and brought out the first-aid kit from under your sink. The mellow, winking light of your kitchen flutters over the split skin of Simon’s knuckles as you clean them out. He doesn’t wince and doesn’t flinch. The only reason his fingers twitch is to curl them further into your palm, stealing your warmth.
The silence is snapped with your quiet question. “What if someone reports you?”
“They won’t, Trouble,” Simon mumbles. “They know who I am.”
Your deluged brain catches onto only one word. Lazy and heavy how it slips past Simon’s lips, pools into his mask. Your eyes flicker up, skittish. “Trouble?”
“Seem to bring it with ya,” he shrugs. Simon leans back in your chair, the fleeceback of his trackies tightening around his thick thighs. “Fitting, innit?”
A sound—somewhere between sheepish and bemused—peals out of you. It’s parroted by Simon, taking the form of an almost-chuckle, but is quickly succeeded by a sharp wince. His face twisting like the tail of a kite, his eyes squeezing shut. 
“Simon?”
He grunts. His crystalline curls stiffly sway as he shakes his head. “Fucker punched me. Landed on my lip.”
It’s an undertaken desire that tells you to lean forward and unhook Simon’s mask off his ear. You have the inkling he’ll maul you if you try, but truthfully, you know that Simon won’t bite the hand that feeds him. 
He’s pliant and malleable under your touch. Almost kittening into your palm, an obedient dog as you loosen Simon’s mask from his chin, letting it dangle from his cauliflower ear—a materialisation of his dubious past—and brush against his jaw.
A hint of fear ephemerally colours Simon’s eyes. He’s naked, bare, under your gaze. A confessor at the feet of an apostle, praying for proclaimed absolution. Hoping you’ll overlook his scars and dimpled skin, hoping you’ll take him in for the stray he is. 
You reach out, grazing Simon’s face. Raising a cotton wad to his busted, thin lips. It permeates the elements of a kiss. Your gauze against his puckered lips, soaking him up, his blood, into your bandage. 
Simon’s a lost dog. He keeps coming back. Though it reads like it, it isn’t entitlement. It’s taking possession of you.
It’s simple, really. Simon just wants to be pet, and he just wants to please.
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faded-euphoria · 1 year
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I can't get this out of my mind so here you go
Telling COD men they have a slutty waist
Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Graves, Konig
TW/CW: Written as Platonic but can be seen as romantic i guess? NSFW talk, sexual implications, wounds guns and bullets are mentioned
Ghost
"You have a slutty waist" Ghost paused what he was doing as soon as the words left your mouth,"What?" He looks over to you, his mask covering the frown on his face. "Your waist. Its slutty. Very grabbable.." A scoff leaves his lips as he turns back to what he was doing before electing to ignore you.
Price
"Captain with all due respect... you have a slutty waist" You were in the middle of a mission and he had gotten shot, having to strip down for you to take care of his wound. "Private with all due respect hurry up and keep it in your pants." Smirking you replied,"Could I keep it in yours?" ..."Bloody hell."
Soap
You walked in on him lifting weights one day, he was wearing a tanktop and sweats having just gotten done with a workout. "Damn McTavish, didn't know you had such a slutty waist." Shaking his head, he lifted his shirt up exposing his abs,"Mate what?" You walked up behind him, turning him to the mirror on the wall while placing your hands on his sides. "Slutty." You stared at him, eyes trained on his torso. "I- A'right get yer hand off me," He barked, turning his head away. (you made him blush)
Gaz
"Pssst, anyone ever tell you about your slutty waist?" He looked up at you from his spot on the couch, giving you a concerned and grossed look, "You didn't just say that." A smile formed on your lips as you nodded. He let out a sigh, disappointment evident, and turned back around to his book.
Alejandro
You had just gotten to Las Almas, and at your first look at Alejandro you scanned over his body, "oh.." a small breath left you, gaining the man's attention, "you alright, my friend?" his eyes scanning over your face, "Not to be rude or anything but uh... your waist is slutty." He raised one of his eyebrows, "Oh? Perhaps you'd like to see it bare later tonight then?"
Graves
He was wearing his blue collared shirt and jeans. You smiled, eyes raking over him, a small blush taking over your cheeks. "You okay, kid?" You nod, meeting his eyes, "Yea, you just..." He steps closer to you, "I just what?" You reached out slowly, your fingertips grazing his shirt before your hands press against his sides gently, "I like your... slutty little waist." A sigh leaves his lips, as he places his hands on your arms, "You would say that..."
Konig
He was just minding his business as usual, cleaning his gun, when you walked in. "Konig, can I tell you something?" He looked up at you and nodded, "Of course." "You have a slutty little waist." He was so glad he had his hood on, if you could see how red his face was he'd be done for. "Ach du lieber Gott...Schatz, you cannot say that..."
*Ach du lieber Gott...Schatz = Oh dear God... Darling
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jaybirdswriting · 9 months
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Injuries For Your Characters To Receive When You’re In The Mood For Angst (And How To Treat Them.)
A: A bite wound. (Wash the wound with soap and water, then cover the area with a bandage. Afterward your character will need medical care from a doctor to make sure that they aren’t going to get rabies or an infected bite area.) 
B: A sprained wrist. (Your character should ice the area and avoid activities that cause pain. It’s also important to compress the area with bandages (But not so much that it cuts off circulation!) and keep it elevated.) 
C: A stab wound to the stomach. (This is an emergency room visit because abdomens have a lot of vital organs. Just straight to the ER.) 
D: A concussion. (A concussion is brain trauma so your character really should be checked out by someone at the ER. Afterward they should take it mentally easy and possibly take pills for pain.) 
E: A black eye. (An ice pack on the swollen area should help.) 
F: A broken ankle. (Your character will probably need to go to the Doctor to get their leg splinted. After leaving the hospital they’ll need to take it easy on their foot until it’s healed.) 
More Undercut
G: A bloody nose. (Stay standing or sitting and tilt your head forward so blood doesn’t go down your throat. Then your character should pinch their nose until the bleeding stops.) 
H: Being scratched. (Clean the area with water and then use antibiotic ointment on the cut. Then cover the area with a bandage and keep watch for signs of infection.) 
I: A broken tooth. (Your character has a dentist visit in the cards.) 
J: Getting their hair yanked. (Your character would probably be fine. It would just hurt in the moment.) 
K: Accidentally biting their own lip. (Clean the area with a wash cloth and water.) 
L: A migraine. (Your character should turn off the lights and lay down for a bit. Possibly take a pill made for migraines as well if your character has any. Sipping on coffee and putting an ice pack on their forehead can help as well.) 
M: A broken back. (Your character will likely need a back brace for six to twelve weeks and to take it easy on physical activity.) 
N: A broken finger. (The finger will need to be immobilized until it heals, and casts that go the elbow are common because they stop the hand and finger from moving. Which gives it the best chance to heal.) 
O: A slash to the neck. (Your character is going straight to the emergency room.) 
P: A punch to the face. (Put an ice pack on the bruised area.) 
Q: A slash to the face. (Would need to be cleaned and bandaged and possibly stitched up depending on the depth of the cut. Would also bleed a ton because of the blood vessels in the face that are close to the surface of the skin.) 
R: A broken rib. (There’s actually not a lot you can medically do to treat a broken rib. Instead you’d be looking at icing the painful area and doing breathing exercises so you don’t develop pneumonia. Also rest will help.) 
S: Rugburn. (This can be treated with a little cold water, antibiotic ointment, and a bandage.) 
T: An electric shock. (If the shock caused fainting, severe burns, confusion, difficulty breathing, or heart problems, your character would need a trip to the emergency room. If not the burns could be treated with bandages and antibiotic ointment.) 
U: A dislocated shoulder. (Some gentle maneuvers might pop the shoulder back into place. If not your character will need to see a doctor. Regardless of how it’s fixed your oc should take it easy on their shoulder for a bit.) 
V: Stubbing their toe. (Apply ice and if it’s bad then your character should elevate their leg.)
W: A busted ear drum. (A busted ear drum can heal on it’s own a lot of the time. It might need surgery in a severe case.) 
X: A bullet wound in the shoulder. (Despite how small this injury is treated in a lot of media, this is probably going to be an emergency room visit. The bullet could either be fully removed or left inside depending on the circumstances. They could also either be sent home with an open or closed wound. Either way the wound will need to be cleaned afterward and it’s possible your character will have emotional trauma from being shot.) 
Y: A split lip. (An ice pack could help.) 
Z: A broken nose. (For a minor fracture that hasn’t caused a nose to become misshapen, it may be fine to not see a doctor. In that case you’ll need to ice the area and probably take pain meds. If the nose is crooked the bone might need to be manually realigned.) 
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tootiecakes234 · 3 months
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Warning: NSFW
Character aged up
You ask Katsuki if you can paint his PP🤭:
���No! Get the hell away from me!” And he starts walking away from you.
“But Katsuki! I’d make it so pretty. I already have a vision in mind. I want to paint it into a microphone! Maybe sing a song into it.” You say following behind him, positive you aren’t helping your situation.
“Y/N if you don’t get away from me right now, we are breaking up. I’m packing my shit and leaving and you’ll never see me ever again! I meant it.” And he plops down on the couch with an exaggerated groan. “You’ve lost your entire fucking mind, smooth brain.”
You know you’re gonna have to grovel for this one. You try to slide yourself onto his lap, but he pushes you off and you bounce a little on the couch cushions.
“No, you’re not kissing and snuggling your way into this. I’m not letting you practice your goddamn painting skills on my dick. Where do you even come up with this shit?” He says now looking at you with wide, concerned eyes.
“Well I was scrolling on TikTok-“
“And there it goes. I’m not even surprised.”
You lean over and run your hands over the his wide chest and buff arms.
“‘Suki when you think about, a microphone is only two colors. Black and grey. It would only take me like 5 minutes.” And then you start pressing kisses to his neck. “Pretty please. I’ll even hop in the shower with you after and help you clean up.” There’s a sultry lilt to your voice. This is something you pull out all the weapons in your arsenal for.
“Y/N i go along with a lot of your dumbass ideas, but I’m drawing the line. No paint on my d-dick. Fuck, cut it out.” You had slipped your hands down his stomach and right under the shorts he had on.
“But it’ll be easier to paint if its hard Kat, don’t ya think?” You whisper up against his ear. You run your thumb over the top and smear the precum over his slit.
“Ugghhh. I hate you, you know that.” He groans really low.
“Mmmmhhh. Pretty please,” you say and stroke down to the base of his cock and then back up. “With a cherry on top.”
“You have 10 f-fucking minutes! And that paint better be safe for skin or I swear to god!” He shouts at you.
You’re up and off the couch before he can even finish that sentence and within a minute you’re back with the paint you already had prepared and brushes.
You get down on your knees, in between his legs, and place your supplies on the ground next you. For him to be so against it, he’s already pulled off his shirt and underwear. He’s accepted his fate.
“Okay, if any of the brushes are uncomfortable or the paints don’t feel good, let me know k?” You say looking up at him.
This man has his arms crossed over his chest and he’s glaring daggers into you.
“What the hell ever woman. Hurry up, your time’s tickin.”
So you pick up a big fluffy brush and dip it into the black paint before you start working on the base of his dick.
As soon as the brush touches against his skin Katsuki screams bloody murder. Its scared the hell out of you and you’re surprised at yourself that you don’t drop the damn brush and get paint everywhere.
When you look up at him to ask him what’s wrong the bastard has a smirk on his goddamn face his shoulder are shaking because he’s holding in his laughter.
“You should’ve seen yourself. Your entire body took a screenshot. I thought you might go into shock.” Now he’s outwardly laughing loud as fuck.
He thinks he’s such a comedian. Well too bad for him because we’re a freakin party clown.
While he’s still laughing you bend down and take the head of his cock in your mouth and swirl your tongue all over it.
His laugh is cut short and you look up to see him squeezing his eyes shut. You pull your head back up and give him a sweet smile.
“So now, how about you cut out the jokes and let me focus on my masterpiece.” And you hear him grumble back some kind of rude response but you take that as an understanding.
You breathe and try to gain your composure before you start back on the task in front of you. You again start at the base of his cock and then do long stokes upwards until you get right below the shroomed tip.
You’re about halfway through when you notice his cock twitching and leaking pre all over.
Oh my gosh he likes this. Or it at least feels good because damn. When you look up at him there’s a blush covering his face and his lips are tight like he’s trying to hold in sounds that might escape. His eyes though are trained on the brush in your hand as you work.
You were about to speak when he cut you off, “Don’t. Just hurry up and finish”
“Yes sir” you say slyly as your start working on the other side.
“Ok. Base is done. Now the tip, I know how sensitive you are so I’ll try to be gentle.” And now you’re the one with a smirk on your face. “Look I can’t paint correctly if there’s precum constantly leaking up here.”
“The fuck do you want me to do. I’m not making it leak out on purpose.” He rolls his eyes at, throws his head back and uses his arm to cover his face. Hes not quick enough to cover the blush that’s dusting his cheeks.
It’s so funny that he still get embarrassed in front of you. You take your thumb and lightly run it over the top to pick up as much pre as possible then you pop it in your mouth. Then you get to work.
You dab lightly around it and make sure to avoid the opening. You hear Katsuki’s breath become more ragged.
“Ok, I’m all done. Take a look.” He removes his arms and leans his head back up. You see that his eyes are blown but you try to ignore it for now. “Do you see the vision?”
“This is so dumb.” Is the only answer you get from him.
Next thing you know you’ve wrapped your hand around it and you start singing. “ANNNNDDDDD IIIIIIIII—eeeee-IIIIII will always love Y-“
You’re cut off because he’s gotten up grabbing you with him and now you’re thrown over his shoulder.
“I’m done with this. Not about to watch you sing Karaoke into my penis. You promised me a shower.”he says as he starts striding toward the bathroom.
“But I wasn’t done! I wanted to take pictures and maybe rap a verse or two. Kats wait dammit.”
“No. I was nice. I let you play and have your fun. Now it’s my turn to play around and have some fun.” You can hear the smug grin on his face.
You take this opportunity and slap his naked ass hard asf. You were right outside the bathroom door and the jerk sets you on your feet so quickly you feel like you’re gonna fall.
“You’re gonna pay for that brat.”
And oh do you pay for it.😭
Katsuki Masterlist
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @i-literally-cant-with-this @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife
*I have a tag list. Let me know if you wanna be added💕🤗
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dmitriene · 3 months
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THOUGHTS ABOUT BATHING WITH SIMON.
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cw: fluff, comfort, slighty suggestive, established relationship, female and male anatomy, sleepy and soft simon, maybe slighty ooc simon because of his behavior, hard on, intimacy, kisses, bits of a clingy behavior, hints on sex. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader
 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄
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periodically, getting simon into the bath was a bit of a challenge, not because he was against showering on a schedule, but because he was terribly tired.
being at the base, running around on various missions that, at best, took several weeks, incapacitated any person, and he was no exception, especially once he finally returned home.
he was incredibly glad to return to the warmth of your common harbor only because he could finally rest, without unnecessary noise, without one open eye in case the enemy was unexpectedly close, without annoying and depressing experiences — just a soft bed, you, and your soothing scent.
the slight smell of cologne and ingrained gunpowder tickled your nose when simon buried a slightly uneven line of his nose into the back of your neck, blowing it with periodic warm sighs and thus tickling your skin, while his voluminous, heavy hand was thrown around your waist, literally pressing you into the place near him, he wasn't sleeping, at least not completely, at the moment he was just silently enjoying your presence.
you toss and turn, causing him to pull away from you with a slight dissatisfied growl so that you change your position, facing him when he was already in a hurry to bend down to bury his face in your chest, but you intercept him, the roar of chesty growls is heard throughout the room, frozen in the morning silence, while his light stubble pricks yours warm palms, and you lift his face, seizing the moment to examine his dirty blond hair, which would be nice to wash, his stubble has grown, gunpowder has eaten into his light eyelashes, turning them black to match his bottomless, equally dark brown eyes.
simon frankly doesn’t understand why you don’t let him rest, and you are driven by sincere concern when you stroke the line of his cheekbones, tracing the edges with your fingers and scratching him like a cat, forcing his already barely open brown eyes to close with fluttering eyelashes, snuggling into your warmth and comfort closer, looking for more affection, but you are in a hurry to interrupt him with a whisper from which he frowns, practically jerks back like a dissatisfied kitten, so incomparable to a strong soldier, but this is no less charming, because such a reaction is caused by one simple invitation — «need to clean up, si, you're home already second day and just sleep all the time, i can't even recognize my man anymore»
— «no wanna» he interrupts instantly, childishly leaving the warmth of your palms and immediately turning over to the other side, showing you his bare, wide, slighty pale back, a scattering of scars, barely noticeable moles, even freckles that seem to appear to the eye as a homely canvas when he folds his hands on his chest, slightly tensing his muscles, which immediately go limp when you giggle at his behavior, pressing closer, wrapping your arms around his torso and reverently leaving a warm kiss on the curve of his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles as if under the lips themselves.
— «come on, si, i'll help you, hmm? would make you a warm, bubbly bath, help you wash yourself, give a massage to those aching muscles of yours?» you mumble rather purring, quite seductively, running your fingers along the curve of his muscle and shoulder blades, practically tickling, and he is unable to deny the craving for the way you describe it, making him growl and rise, brushing the blanket off his hips and standing in nothing but in boxers, stretching on the corner of the bed.
— «bloody woman» the only thing he mutters, not at all out of resentment and hostility, but from the realization of how much power you hold over him, forcing him to overcome all laziness and fatigue in order to finally reach the bathroom, shuffling his feet on the floor not even in slippers, throwing open the door when you follow behind him, nothing more than giggling from gloating and his domesticated appearance, just like a lazy, well-fed cat, with crumpled strands of hair, a slight softness on the sides and belly.
the smell of scented bath foam and some kind of scrub caresses your nose with soothing smells when you sit with simon, settled in a slightly narrow, but at the same time comfortable bathtub, he reclines with his arms outstretched on both edges of the snow white ceramic, looking at you sleepily through the flutter of his light eyelashes when you gently rub his chest, washing everything thoroughly, sitting in front of him in a complete nakedness and focusing on his comfort as he traces your every move.
his muscles relaxed, the hot water doing its job of softening him while you rub the scrub into his rough, scarred skin, doing deep cleansing, and he doesn’t even resist or turn his nose, allowing you to absorb the sweetish aroma into him, making his skin completely soft to the touch, as if he had just been born, leaving his hairy chest and strong muscles to go lower and down to his legs.
simon lifts one leg, following your movement, allowing you to stroke it with a washcloth that was floating nearby, applying even more foam on top of the one that was already there, while he only followed with his eyes, looking at your naked breasts and wet nipples, covered with the same foam with warm water and unable to look away, starting to pull his hand, crumpling your hip under the water and pulling you towards him, making you squeak, losing focus — «simon! what's happening, love?»
he simply grumbles, arranging you on his lap to press closer to your wet, warm skin, outlining your waist with his heavy hands, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers with pleasure, burying his nose somewhere in the intersection of your shoulder and chest, limp and relaxed, without raising his head, to which you sigh and just stroke his shoulders, moving to the back of his head and going down to his neck, scratching and purring — «talk to me, si»
he remains silent, as if on purpose, continuing to breathe measuredly into the area of your collarbone and fidget with his lips against the soft flesh, before you feel his limp cock rise slowly, rubbing against your bodies and softly hitting his lower abdomen, straining slightly, thick veins run along the length of his hard cock, the tip slowly gets wet not only from water, but also from sticky precum, and now you understand his excessive clinginess to you, giggling quietly before kissing the top of his head.
he finally raises his head in response to the light touch of your lips to his wet hair, brown eyes look absolutely calm and puppy like, moving to softly kiss your breasts, while his slippery hands change position from your hips to your thighs, stroking, as if silently asking for green color and resolution to go further, but when you tsk, he snorts in disappointment, hitting his forehead against your ribcage.
— «no, si, first i continue to wash you, and then we'll see about this» you tut, taking up the stroke of the back of his neck again, sliding down his back with pressing fingertips, stroking and pressing on the tense muscles before he mumbles — «fine, love..» and lifts his head again, tilting it back along with his back, letting you move on to washing his hands, rubbing in the shower gel and a slightly tingling scrub, as simon's head tilts slightly to the side with quiet breathing, his eyelids growing heavier with a fleeting movement of blonde lashes before he settles into a sensual sleep, his slightly hairy chest heaves with each breath.
as long as you continue to groom him, focusing back on washing his body with the still hot water, moving slightly on his lap before scooping even closer, reaching out to stroke his wet hair and squeeze the shampoo into your palm, rubbing his scalp, massaging and scratching, causing him to growl contentedly and flutter his eyes, seems that he won't be able to continue other activities after such a bath.
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