#i was just sitting there jaw to the floor like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sexlapis · 2 days

Text

# the D word

꩜ nanami x gn!reader

ns4w, daddy kink, penetrative s e x, praise, fluff, crack, undisclosed kinks, the tiniest bit of angst, petnames

⤷ synopsis : nanami accidentally reveals his “secret” kink.

wc: 1.4k

a/n: i love a good daddy kink fic #sorrynosorry

masterlists

the first time that word slips from his lips, you don’t even think he realises.

it had been a tiring, stressful day for nanami and unfortunately, those types of days are not uncommon in his line of work.

some days are better than others. some days he is here, with you and present even after a bad day but other times…he can be gone for months.

luckily, it wasn’t one of those days.

while you finished off preparing dinner, nanami rests on the couch, head lolling back into the headrest. his noticeable tie is long gone, along with his suit coat and goggles. the top few buttons of his blue shirt are undone, the sleeves of it rolled up to his elbows, revealing the pale expanse of his trimmed forearms.

you walk into the living room, where he is. “nanami, dinners ready. let’s go eat!”

nanami grunts, eyes closed and not making any viable efforts to join you or to eat.

you tilt your head, sympathy in your eyes. maybe he has a headache or just wants to sleep. i’ll leave him the leftovers for work.

“_____,” nanami drawls out, sounding like he’s minutes away from passing out, “_____, c’mere, come sit for a second, hm..”

“hm? oh…ken, are you okay?” you move closer to him, placing the back of your hand on his forehead, “maybe you should go to bed.”

“no. yes. no. i’m fine,” nanami huffs, running a hand down his face before patting his lap, “just c’mere, come sit. come sit on daddy’s lap.”

any thoughts in your head, any words you were to utter, any movements you were to make instantly come to an abrupt halt.

uhm…what?

daddy?

your jaw may as well be plonk on the floor.

now, you and nanami’s sex life is not boring or unsatisfactory in the slightest, the exact opposite in fact. you and nanami were happy with what you had. but you most definitely did not peg him to be the type who likes to be called…that word.

did you like that word though? growing up, you had always thought it was a bit strange hearing your friends call the guys they found attractive a term that one would use for their father. for you, it wasn’t even a question or even a thought. you simply and absolutely were not a fan. it wasn’t for you…or so you thought.

that word. nanami said it so easily, so readily, like he didn’t even think about what he was referring to himself as, like he did it every day of his life.

the way in which he said it, in a weary, gentle groan, urging you to sit on his lap, so unfazed like he knew you would say yes to his request as if he has ever called himself “daddy”.

it makes the pit of your stomach alight with unexpected desire. all because of one word.

so you decide to indulge him (and maybe, secretly, yourself too).

you shuffle the short distance to nanami, carefully sitting yourself right in the middle of his lap and curling your knees up on his thigh, you cheek now smushed against his shirt. the steady rhythm of his heartbeat almost sends you to sleep.

he hums, content when he rings his arms around you body like vines and prods his nuzzles the top of your head, breathing heavily and letting his eyes close.

“this is all i needed…”

the next day, all is forgotten.

the next time he said it, the sun had just about risen over the clouds on a lazy weekend.

sweat slides between the gravitating bodies of you and nanami, luminary, golden light shining over the two of you. only the sound of skin coming together and the sounds of soft, tired pleasure were all that could be heard in the room.

nanami embraces you closely as you move on top of him languidly, not in a rush at all but already so, so close to reaching your peaks.

he groans, loud and deep. nanami is more vocal in the morning you’ve noticed, all drowsy and vulnerable and pliant. blonde strands of hair stick to his forehead as rouge washes over his neck and cheeks.

“hmfp…fuck…oh shit,” nanami’s hands finds your rippling ass, groping gently and pulling it, exposing you most intimate areas to the chill of the morn, “i’m cumming. fuck, i’m cumming. you’re gonna make daddy cum.”

it embarrasses you. how quickly your eyes roll into the back of your head when he calls himself that damn name again.

you don’t stop and the unhurried circling of your hips around nanami’s cock as you, quite literally, ride out your high has him clutching onto your waist whilst he releases himself inside of you, jerking himself upwards and holding you in place, ensuring you take it all.

languorous rolls of the hips turn into soft grinds as you milk him for all he’s worth. he’s jelly in your hold, moaning quietly and long eyelashes fluttering.

“god…” you chime, lifting yourself up and off his manhood, making him hiss at the cold. white drips out of you, dripping onto nanami’s lower torso.

the next few moments are still after he moves you lay next to him, still regaining your breath and coming back to earth. you peer to your left and that his eyes are closed.

probably going to fall back asleep…

you kiss his sweaty shoulder, “it’s okay baby, you can go to sleep.

nanami whines, breathes out and he…sleeps once again.

no mention of that either.

later on in the day, rain patters against the clear window. you and nanami sit closely on the couch, a book in your hand and a very loved kindle in his. he wears his nerdy reading glasses and a cream-coloured sweater, looking all cosy, homey and domestic.

…your mind is not on the book in front of you. not in the slightest.

daddy… just when i think i’ve got him all figured out…

to you, it’s odd. i mean, it would be odd to anyone if their partner began referring to themselves as “daddy” out of the blue, right? why not discuss it with you first? what if it was a turn-off and you didn’t even like it? then again, nanami has not heard any complaints from your mouth. you’re not even sure you have any complaints about his quite generous use of the word.

i think it’s starting to grow on me.

you should just ask him. but what if he’s embarrassed?

well he should’ve thought about that and discussed it with me?

what if it’s awkward?

well not all conversations in a relationship are going to be comfortable.

what if he just shuts down and gives me the silent treatment?

well, maybe-

“since when you do you have a daddy kink?”

nanami chokes on his own spit, coughing before he sputters, staring at you like he should be the one that’s shocked, “wh-what?!”

“don’t play dumb! are we just gonna pretend that you haven’t been calling yourself da- the “D” word recently?” you whisper-shout the last part, feeling heat rise on your face, “where did that even come from?”

“alright, alright i-,” he sighs, “listen i…i’ve-i’ve liked.. it for a while now. it was just-,” he sighs again, looking to the floor, “embarrassing.”

“…oh nanami…” you cuddle up to him, moving his hand away from his now red face, kissing the back of his hand, “you’re so silly. you don’t have to be embarrassed. loads of people like those things…a heads up would’ve been appreciated though…”

“right. sorry.”

you shrug it off, “nah, it’s fine. i actually think it suits you. “daddy” huh?”

“oh, jesus christ.” nanami presses his eyes together, rethinking his life choices.

“oh no, don’t backtrack now. you brought this upon yourself this time…you do have a lot of…”daddy” qualities to be honest,” you genuinely begin to ponder, “you’re caring, kinda fatherly, dominant, you even carry me to bed sometimes and pick out my clothes and -”

“please-”

“what is it? is daddy getting shy? you weren't shy last night.”

nanami might as well melt into the ground as you snicker in his face. you are having far too much fun with this.

“are you done?”

“yes, daddy.”

“eugh.”

you giggle some more and really, nanami does see the humour in this. a stoic man too embarrassed to tell his partner about his little kink? that is silly.

“but seriously, it’s fine. i kinda like it!”

“yes, i got that impression.”

you smack his bicep. “not too much. just tell me next time, yeah? i don’t want to be having sex and then next thing i know you’re calling me “master” or something, that would be crazy.”

“…yeah… that would be crazy…”

“…”

“nanami? what-”

< thank u for reading ૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა >

#nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami x gn!reader #nanami x gender neutral!reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x gender neutral reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami smut #kento nanami fluff

343 notes · View notes

mzzledmutt · 2 days

Text

—GOOD DOG

starring.ᐟ dabi; touya todoroki x reader

synopsis.ᐟ you are a good dog, a good dog does whatever they're asked to do. isn't that right?

warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, boot licking, boot worship, unprotected vaginal sex, d/s dynamics, excessive use of mutt + dog, degradation, praise, oral (m + f receiving), spanking, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, collar + leash

word count.ᐟ 3.1k words

m.mutt 𐂯 this is a little nasty, i had an idea.

THERE’S no reason to look up.

You can feel the cruel, cerulean scowl staring down at your knelt, pathetic form. You don’t dare look up. Keeping your eyes focused on your hands which rested upon your thighs.

The concrete floors beneath you already beginning to bruise your delicate skin. Dabi is standing before you, the only thing in your sight is his heavy leather boots. The room is silent, only making you more unnerved.

“Eyes up.” Slowly, your head raises until you make eye contact. Dabi is clearly unpleased with you. His jaw is tense, eyes narrowed as he looks down at you. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” His ragged voice is full of ice, something you expected.

Two weeks ago, on a Tuesday, Dabi suddenly brought up a mission. It was too casual, just relaxing on the couch before the announcement. You’re quick to begin crying, hugging around his waist as you plead with him. He doesn’t care for your cries.

Only rubbing your back with a roll of his eyes. “You act like ‘m not comin’ back.” He grumbled. He gave you the week to spend as much time with him and last Monday, it was time. He stood in the entryway, holding you close to his chest. Your fingers gripped his shirt, feeling as if he’d slip away at any moment.

With a final kiss to your forehead, Touya pulls away. “It’s only a week, dollface. I’ll be back.” Before he leaves, he runs down the list of rules he always gave you whenever he had to go.

Rule one, you were to stay in the apartment, it was too dangerous for you to be outdoors. This wasn’t a constant rule, you were allowed out alone and with company while he was home. While away, he couldn’t risk anyone getting ahold of you.

Rule two, you were to give him daily updates, at least four times a day. Although he has many ways to ensure your safety, it gives him a warmth in his chest when you send him a good morning text, describing your dream and how much you miss him.

Rule three, you were not to open the door for anyone. This rule had a few exceptions. Hawks and the league had specific knocks to confirm their identities. They were the only ones you were allowed to let in or speak to.

Rule four, you were to stay away from the ended and social media while he was away. Mainly his way of ensuring you don’t see any of the atrocities he may commit.

Rule five, you were not allowed to touch yourself. No toys, no fingers, no pornography. Nothing.

He was incredibly disappointed when inspecting his cameras in a run-down motel room. Watching as your hips twitched and ground against a pillow, sugary moans spilling off of your lips.

The same disappointment was all over his face. “I’m sorry—!” His rough hand grabs your cheeks, startling you. “Did I ask you to speak?” You shake your head, eyes welling with tears. “So, why’re ya’ talking, dog?” You stay silent, pout on your lips and tears in your eyes.

His icy blue eyes scan over your face, smirking when he locks with your watery eyes. Your face is forced to the side as he pushes you away. “I do everything for you. Everything to keep you safe and you can’t follow one simple fuckin’ rule.”

Dabi crouched down to pick up the heavy chain attached to your matching collar. He tugs you hard, throwing you off your balance as you’re forced to crawl behind him. You’re led to your bedroom where he sits on a chair and you stay on your knees.

He clears his throat, shuffling in his seat. You look up at him wide-eyed, awaiting your order. “You’re gonna work for my cock, you understand that?” You nod. “Speak up.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good, doggy.”

“Now, get to work.” Dabi pushes his right boot forward. You look up at him, unsure if you were misreading his command. He tilts his head down, wordlessly awaiting your obedience. Slowly, you lean further down to the floor.

The scent of earthiness, metal, and leather fills your nose. He adorned thick, black leather, steel-toed boots. Your personal favorite in his collection. The boots were intimidating on the man, making him appear taller and much rougher.

You're hesitant as you stick your tongue out, slowly swiping across the material. “Good, doggy. Keep goin’.” His praises encourage you, allowing you to become more comfortable as your tongue laps at the leather.

Dabi's expression hasn’t changed since he entered, his eyes only softened as he watched you clean his leather. His left hand creeping to squeeze his hardening cock, throbbing beneath his jeans.

“This is where you belong, isn’t it? On your knees with my boot in your mouth.” You stare at him wide-eyed. “I asked you a question.” The chain is pulled taut, squeezing your collar around your throat.

“Yes! This is where I belong, sir.” You cry out, at the sudden asphyxiation.

You’re focused on pleasing him, trying to force away the dull throb in your panties. Tongue dragging across ash and blood, spit shining the black leather. “Off it.” You stop with a whine, sitting back on your haunches.

You pull away, a trail of spit stuck to the leather and your lips. “Oh, look at you. S’fuckin’ pretty.” Dabi caresses your cheek before hooking his thumb into your mouth. You suck in the digit, holding blurred eye contact as your tears continue to flow. A taunting smirk is spread over his scarred lips.

“Stop your cryin’, mutt. I’ve hardly done anything to you.” That was true. Dabi could be much meaner if he truly wanted to be, he was just toying with you for a moment. Relishing in the tears that roll down your chubby cheeks.

“I want you to ride it. Take those pretty panties off and ride my fuckin’ boot.” You follow his orders, slipping the soaked fabric down your thighs and off onto the floor. Dabi’s hand cradles your cheek so he can watch your fave contort in pleasure as your clit makes contact.

Your hips twitch as you whimper, your hands gripping his hips to balance yourself. “M’yeah?” Dabi teases. Your hips swivel along the boot, stimulating your throbbing clit. Sharp quick pants leave your parted lips as you mindlessly hump the leather.

Drool beginning to spill from your lips, dribbling onto the denim-clad thigh of Dabi. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease—“ Your absentminded pleas force Dabi to unzip his jeans, pulling his cock out from his boxers. He slowly strokes himself, scarred hand languidly moving up and down.

“You like this don’t you? You love bein’ a disgusting dog f’me.” You nod quickly, your grip on him tightening. “Yes! Yes, I love being your dog, Dabi!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm before groaning as he nudges his piercing.

Your cunt’s slick, slipping easily if the material as wanton moans freely leave you. You’re getting close, the knot in your stomach becoming something you can’t ignore. Hips stuttering, nails digging into his skin and your chest heaving, Dabi knew you were teetering on the edge.

He just wanted to see what you would do.

Your ministrations don’t stop, only motivated more as you watch him jerk off. You’re so close, if you just add a little more pressure you’ll surely cum. Just a little bit more—

“Off it.” The look on Dabi’s force forces you back to your kneeled position.

You cry out at the lack of stimulation, your poor cunt clenching around nothing. “Look at my good dog. Learnin’ to listen to orders.” Dabi takes his fingers from your mouth, moving to pet your hair.

“While you’re down there, suck my cock, yeah?” He’s so uncaring as he leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. So, your nimble fingers make quick work crawling up his thighs before grabbing his cock.

He hisses at your grip, head tilting back. You lean over his lap, puckering your lips as you spit onto the throbbing head. A sharp groan gets stuck in his throat as you begin stroking him, hands twisting in opposite directions as they slide up and down.

You give him a wild grin, thighs clenching each time he moans. “I said suck it, mutt.” You follow his orders, taking the head between your lips and swirling your tongue around him.

“There you go, baby. Suck that big dick f’me.” The metallic taste of his piercings and the saltiness of precum fills your mouth, encouraging you to take him deeper. You gag around him, spilling tears down your cheeks.

“Good,” His hand comes down to hold your hair, slowly moving you up and down. “You’re doin’ s’good, doggy.” Dabi pants, cursing you under his breath. Your space wasn’t enough for the man, he strengthened the grip on your hair, forcing you further down.

Your nails dig into his skin as you choke on him. Hands slapping against his thighs as he roughly fucks into your throat. “Just like that—fuck! You love it, don’t you? Gaggin’ on my fuckin’ cock.” His voice begins to sound whiney as he reaches his orgasm.

You’re forced all the way down, nose nuzzling his pelvis as he cums. Spilling rope after rope of his cum down your throat, loud groans leaving him. Dabi lets you go, allowing you to pull off quickly as you cough.

Your face is soaked in tears and spit, making you the image of perfection to him. He watches as you pant and cough, catching your breath. “You look so pretty,” Dabi strokes your hair. “You looked s’fuckin’ pretty suckin’ my cock.” He wrenches your head back, roughly tugging on your hair.

“Open.” Your lips greedily part, tongue lolling out as he spits onto it. “Don’t you fuckin’ swallow.” He snarled, pinching your cheeks together. You pull your tongue back into your mouth, salivas mixing on your tongue. “Lay down.” He pats his thigh, readjusting himself to accommodate you.

You play over his lap, head and legs dangling over. Dabi adjusts you in his lap, pulling your ass up for his comfort. A heated hand rubs over the dentin’s skin of your ass. “Such a pretty thing you are.” He grips your ass.

Dabi is quick, lifting his hand from your skin before striking you hard. A muffled shout leaves you, determined to follow his orders. He repeated the motion on the other cheek, not giving you much time to relax.

Smack after smack after smack, your nails are digging into his leg you attempt to stay quiet. The blood is rushing to your head as you hang, making you dizzy from his hits and your position.

Your ass is bright red and sore, a product of his heavy and heated hand. “How ya’ feelin’?” He leans down, entering your peripheral. “Your ass feelin’ okay?” Your eyes are blurry and unfocused, and your body still tense and shaking. “Can’t talk, doggy?” He teases with a laugh.

Dabi sits you up on his lap, holding onto your hips to steady you. “Swallow for me.” You follow his orders, sticking out your tongue to prove so. “Such a good pet, hmm?” He pets your hair, allowing you to keen into his touch.

“Think ya’ deserve my cock now, dollface?” Dabi asks, wiping the tears from your face. “I deserve whatever you give me.” You reply with a sniffle. “That’s what I wanna hear.” The dark-haired man pulls you in for a kiss, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck.

The kiss is sloppy, full of spit and tongue. Dabi’s hands wander from your face down to your bruised ass, pinching at the sensitive skin. Your pained moans against his lips make his cock throb, leaking pre cum against his stomach.

In a smooth motion, Dabi lifts you into his arms and stands to his feet, carrying you over to the bed. You’re dropped unceremoniously, only for his lips to travel down your chin to your neck then your collarbones.

He unclips the chain from your collar, dropping it to the floor before attending to your breast. His tender kisses to your soft breast are interrupted as he bites, leaving a perfect imprint of his soft teeth. Dabi grins at you as his tongue lolls out to soothe the skin. His skillful tongue swirls around your nipples before he sucks the bud between his lips.

Your back arches in pleasure, hips bucking in desperation. He sinfully moans around your nipple, teeth grazing the hardened nub causing you to shiver. “P-please, Dabi.” Your pleading is nearly silent, voice just above a whisper.

The stark contrast of his warm mouth to the cool room is jarring. Dabi pulls away, straddling your waist as he looks down upon you. “What was that, I didn’t hear you?” The man taunts. “Dabi, please…” You pout, grabbing at his arm. He smacks your hands away, dismounting your body.

Before you can question what he was doing, you’re flipped onto your stomach, effectively disorienting you. His hands are all over you, positioning the way he wants you to be. Ass up, face down with a beautiful arch in your back. Dabi smacks your ass, admiring his work.

Your pretty soaked cunt was on full display, dripping sweet nectar down your plush thighs. “Now,” Dabi straddles your legs, positing himself behind you. “Speak up, tell me what you want.”

Your whines are muffled by the blanket. “I can’t hear you.” He chides as he lifts your head from the mattress. “Please, I need it so badly. I was only touching myself because I missed you, I’m sorry for disobeying you!”

“That’s a good pet.” The tip of his heavy pierced cock nudges against your dripping cunt. “So fuckin’ soaked already,” He groans pressing the head in. “Shit, baby. Take it f’me, you can do that yeah?” Tears prick your eyes again as he pushes further in, your tight heat stretching to accommodate his size.

He continues to sink his thick cock into your warm, wet walls. Stretching you out to fit him snugly. You yelp as the head of his cock smacks into your cervix, the dull pain spreading through your pelvis and stomach.

You grip the sheets, attempting to pull yourself away. “Don’t fuckin’ run from me.” Dabi rasps, gripping your waist and pulling you back. “Fuuuuck!” Your eyes roll back as you squirm in his grip. “You wanted this, take it.”

Dabi’s pace is quick, not giving you a chance to adjust. He’s pounding into you, nails digging

“Been gone for a week and you're that like a fuckin’ virgin? She missed me that bad?” He pants, leaning over your back. “Y-yes yes, I missed you so fucking much!” A hard smack is landed across your already aching ass.

“I’m not talkin’ to you, mutt.” Dabi spat, smacking the other cheek, relishing in how you clenched around him. “I’m talkin’ to this sinful fuckin’ pussy. Creamin’ ‘round my cock.” Your slick sounds of his cock pistoning into your cunt was sickening.

The rigged feeling of his piercings pleasantly rubs against your g-spot. “Greedy little cunt couldn’t wait to get some dick, now you have it and you wanna run?” Your hands reach back to push against his stomach, begging him to be gentle to your aching pussy.

Dabi grabs your wrist, pinning them back and pulling you back to him. He rests his chin against your shoulder as he thrusts into your core in this new position. “Oh my god,” Your drawl, head rolling to the side. “You’re so fuckin’ deep.”

He breathily chuckles against your ear, your moans music to his ears. “What do ya’ say?” His hand coming up to cup your breast. “Thank you, Dabi.” You sputter between strained moans.

“Nuh uh, what’s my name?” Dabi huffs against your ear, nipping at the cartilage. “Th-thank you, sir!” You sob, bowing against him. “That’s a good, pet.”

His thrusts increase, heavy balls smacking against your ass. The splitting feeling of him inside makes your cunt throb, and your poor aching clit twitches with neglect. You were getting close again, orgasm soon approaching with his harsh thrusts.

“Shit—please! I can’t, sluh—fuck! Slow down!” You cry and he lets you go, forcing your face into the mattress. “Ya’ gonna cum? Huh? Awww poor baby, who said you couldn’t do that?” He leans over you mercilessly thrusts abusing your dripping hole.

“Nonono—please! Been s’good, I wanna cum!” The words are muffled but, the message is clear. He only taunts you further, reaching down to play with your clit. “Mmm’not yet.”

“Wanna—shit—feel you clench on me some more. This tight cunt is fuckin’ addicting.” Dabi’s orgasm was approaching, his balls tightening as he continued his pace. “I’ll let ya’ know when you can, just enjoy it for now.”

Your walls flutter around him as his thumb circles your clit, pressing on the nub to feel your twitch against him.

“Shit—‘m gonna cum, pretty. Gonna breed this pretty cunt, you like that?” You nod, pleasure rendering you unable to speak. Dabi doesn’t punish you, too focused on pumping you full of his cum.

“You want me to breed this pretty cunny, don’t you? Make you mama, hah?” His teeth graze your shoulder before his tongue laps at the skin.

“C’mon, cum for me, pretty. Be a good dog f’me and cum.” He growls as he bottoms out in you. A ragged groan leaves the man as he cums, spilling rivulets of cum into your awaiting womb. You cum with him, overstimulation setting in quickly from being denied for so long.

Your body spasms as he lays over you, bodies now against the mattress. He’s buried deep within you, still twitching and pumping you full of his seed. You’re delirious, eyes hazy and stuffed too full to comprehend your surroundings.

You’re left panting and sweaty, too tired to get up and move. Eventually, Dabi pulls out, whistling at the stream of white that drips out of you. He spreads your ass, dipping down to lap at your cunt. “Baby, no…” You whine with overstimulation.

His tongue delves into your holes, dripping up the mixtures of both of your arousals. Dabi licks a stripe up from your cunt to your asshole, pulling away with a smile. “God, you taste so good, baby.” You’re still limp against the bed, tired from his pounding.

“We should,” Dabi takes a deep breath. “We should clean up.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “You did so good. You only ever act right when I’m mean to you, huh?” You mumble something unintelligible making him laugh. He rolls off of you, pulling you to play on his scarred chest.

Your eyes are shut, breathing slowly to regulate yourself. He gently strokes your hair, smiling down at you.

“Such a good dog for me.”

#mzzledmtt!#mzzledbarks!#dabi smut #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x reader smut #dabi x reader smut #mha dabi #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha dabi #tw. boot worship

115 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 2 days

Text

A Weight Off His Shoulders

cw: Ghost x f!reader/f!oc, Ghost pov, m!oc, demon au, mild implications of self harm, interrogation techniques, exposition, Ghost grappling with his trauma, depersonalization, I'm holding Ghost at gun point and making him talk about his feelings

Summary: Ghost does not adjust to the few hours he spends without you hanging around. Actually it seems to make things worse.

It’s a strange feeling, Ghost’s shoulders feel weightless, eased of their infernal burden. Yet they’re still heavy. Guilty. He almost misses the pressure, the tightness. It’s like wearing a bulletproof vest, there was something almost comforting about having you weigh down his shadow, and it’s gone now. Ghost grits his teeth, coaxes his nerves away from the edge, hits the punching back in the gym harder than he intended to. He shakes the blow out of his knuckles, readjusts his wraps with a mumbled swear.

“Ghost,” Price calls behind him. Ghost shakes his head, he’s not in the mood for it. A lecture is the last thing he needs. Teamwork and all that bullshit means nothing when he’s- He clenches his hands tightly and throws another punch, he feels full to bursting with energy he doesn’t want to put a name to. Price calls his name again and he ignores it.

Right hook, left jab, right jab, left hook, uppercut. He switches his footing and throws a hard kick, catching the punching back with his shin. Textbook. Price catches the bag, his eyes hard. Ghost settles his foot back onto the matt floor and adjusts his wraps again.

“Know what you’re goin’ to say,” Ghost grumbles.

“Enlighten me,” Price sounds unamused, Ghost knows better than anyone how much he hates to be ignored.

“Team only works if we all do,” Ghost throws another jab, stopping short of the bag. Price doesn’t flinch. “Never needed to be friendly to do my job.”

“So I hear,” Price crosses his arms over his chest, rolls his shoulders back, watching the door. There’s something easy in the motion, unimpeded. Ghost’s eyes flick to the shadows on the wall, then back to Price. The gym is strangely empty, all the life filtered out and the shadows silent. He hadn’t noticed how alone they were until now.

“Where’s your dog?”

Price turns his attention back to him, there’s something sharp in his eyes, something warning. “Thankfully somewhere they can’t hear you call ‘em that.” Price’s tone is even, but dangerous. Ghost clenches his jaw, biting back the words he wants to say. He doesn’t know how Price can’t feel the same rolling disgust about their situation. He’s in the same boat, deemed too dangerous by Hell to exist without an escort. Monster enough to need another monster keeping him company. “They’re off with yours,” Price says finally, “looking over your contract.”

“Which one,” He knows which one, but Price still humors him.

“Not the one you’re hoping for, but if you really want a discharge-”

“I don’t.”

Ghost turns his attention back to the punching bag. He rolls his shoulders, the ease of motion doesn’t sit right. He ignores it. Price lets him wallow in silence, lighting a cigar while Ghost avoids the elephant in the room. Contract. He shouldn’t be beholden to something he never signed. He didn’t mean to summon a demon, he didn’t mean to attach himself to you, he didn’t mean for or want any of this. For God's sake he was barely holding on to his humanity as it was.

Maybe this is good, showing him what he still has to lose, how desperately he still clings to the hope that he could go back. Back to being Simon, to being human, to being something more than a machine part, the teeth on a meat grinder meant to rend flesh apart. He’d always hoped Ghost was just the shell, but maybe he’d spent too long hollowing himself out. Maybe Hell was right and there was nothing left to go back to.

Price lets out a long hard breath, waving his hand to clear the smoke so it doesn’t set off the alarm. He tucks his lighter back in his pocket while Ghost digs his nails into the wraps covering his palms. There’s a ringing in his ears that grows louder as Price smokes.

There’s something wrong with him, something dark and twisted that he was managing, plying with corpses to keep quiet. He was doing well, he was handling it. He was handling having a demon, it wasn’t ideal, but it was manageable. You were a useful tool, he could work with tools. He was a tool, and you were a tool. An unfortunately matching set. He squeezes his fists tighter.

You were so warm.

“So what’s wrong with ‘er?” Price’s voice jerks him out of his thoughts.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Ghost is quiet. There are a million ways he could explain it. Price would understand, he’d sympathize, maybe he’d even have some advice. There are a million ways he knows he could explain it, but he doesn’t have the words for any of them. He’s never had the words for anything. Probably why he didn’t finish his schooling.

What’s wrong with you? You pushed him, you did something to him during sex that made him want to hurt you. No. He’d already wanted to hurt you, had those awful thoughts festering in the recesses of his brain where he knew they couldn’t hurt anyone, and he’d acted on it. He yelled at you, he slammed drawers and made a fuss. He wanted to hurt you. He did hurt you. You made him feel-

You made him feel like his father, like Roba, like none of the good he’d done meant anything. Hearing you beg- he’s heard those words from too many people: his mother, Tommy, himself. He thought he was better than that. He was kidding himself.

“S’like lookin’ in a mirror,” Ghost rumbles, his voice low enough he isn’t sure Price heard it.

“A mirror,” Price repeats with a disbelieving hum.

“Everything I- Christ-” Ghost drags a hand down his face, feels the friction of his hand wraps against the balaclava and frowns. “I see her and I can feel my old man putting his ideas in my head.”

“His ideas?”

“Wantin’ ta hurt ‘er, wantin’ ta-” It hits him quick, needles his brain. He knows this technique, knows it because he’s heard Price use it enough times before handing Ghost the pliers. He’s too trusting of Price. He’s being interrogated.

Ghost growls and rips the velcro on his wraps, tugging the canvas off his hands with quick motions. The gentle burn of it unraveling from between his fingers barely doing anything to ground him. Price watches him, his smoke filling the room, heavy where it touches his shadow. There’s something crawling in the air, something choking that Ghost can’t attribute to the cigar. The gym is empty, oppressively empty. Ghost’s skin crawls, Price’s stance hasn’t changed, but he’s different, his eyes are harder, challenging Ghost to make a wrong move. His shadow has grown horns.

“We’re not done,” Price tells him evenly. Fire licks at the ice of his irises, sparking anger in Ghost before he can stop it. Even the most docile dog bites its master when cornered.

Ghost cools his fury, fixes Price with a glare as he rolls his shoulders to try and ease some of the tension. Briefly he wonders if he’d feel the same stomach churning pressure with you hanging off of his shoulders. Your weight always seems to negate any other that tries to hold him down.

Price tips his head, and Ghost hears a softer voice tell him, “We’re done.” It bites into Ghost’s blood. He trusts Price, but this? This is pushing it. He’s always hoped to be doing enough good in the grand scheme of things to negate a fraction of the death and destruction. Was that wrong? Were they all being puppeteered by Hell? Was it all for nothing? Should he have felt it; that he’d become worse than his father?

“They got you on a short leash,” Ghost challenges, unable to stop the bite in his tone. Price’s eyes narrow, warning, but all Ghost can feel is the white hot burn of anger.

“I’m tryin’ to help you,” Price assures him, but it feels hollow. Something shifts in Price’s eyes, some twitch in his brow that feels too fleetingly soft. It’s the sort of look that tells Simon, “I got you into this mess, let me get you out of it.” It feels like his ribs could collapse in on themselves, like his lungs are suddenly too empty to fill again.

“You can’t,” Ghost assures him, shoving Simon back into the dark, “there’s nothin’ left to ‘elp.”

Price hums. “You’re a bad liar Simon, always have been,” He takes a drag from his cigar and waves away the smoke of his exhale, “Skip mess and be in my office by 1800.”

It’s not your weight in his shadow that alerts him to your presence. It’s your laughter. Bubbling and just slightly at the edge of raspy, watery, almost. It twists the knife in Ghost’s chest. You shouldn’t sound happier when you’re away from him. You shouldn’t- Actually you shouldn’t be out of your shadows. You never seemed eager to pull yourself out of the darkness before, but here you were loud and bright as ever. Ghost stops his stalk through the hall, parks himself at the corner to listen. Your ever present babble of speech makes his heart flip. He didn’t realize how quiet everything felt without you murmuring in his ear.

“Maybe it’d be best if you stayed with us for a while,” A newly familiar male voice says, the concern is evident in his tone, but it sparks in Ghost’s stomach. Annoyance, must be. The product of disregarding direct orders, not offering advice to someone that isn’t wanted. What a pair they must make.

“Dinnae ken if my back can take tha’,” Soap groans, “May as well have Gaz’s shoulder the way Ahm clickin’.”

Ghost closes his eyes, knocks his head against the concrete wall. Soap. Fine, count him off the list of people he could gripe to, if you’re riding his shadow there’s no reason to go seeking the man out.

“Should have his fuckin’ pelt the way he’s treating you,” Hush grumbles.

“Ghost’s alrigh’,” Soap defends, “just a li’l rough around the edges, dinnae let him get to ya.”

Another flip, his stomach this time. Ghost shakes his head, more than rough around the edges, he’s rough all the way down. No reason to defend a man who’s already proven himself to be demon enough for Hell to keep an eye on. Ghost pushes off the wall and tries not to glance down the hall as he continues his way past the junction. A difficult task when you’re at the other end of it made even worse with the way Hush touches you.

Just a hand on your shoulder, thumb stroking over the army green tee you’re wearing, but it boils in his blood, sings through his ribs like a howling wolf. It pisses him the fuck off seeing you smile at that man. Hush glances his way with a glare. You follow his gaze and your smile drops seeing Ghost staring.

Why does it feel so much like he’s caught you in the act? You’re just standing there, holding his gaze, daring him to look away first.

You’re cute in fatigues.

He tears his eyes off of you to glare at Hush. “Try to keep the insubordination to a minimum, yeah?”

“Ghost,” You sound concerned, on the edge of an explanation that doesn’t come. He doesn’t like it. He turns away, keeps walking.

“Coward,” Hush mumbles.

It stings, but the truth so often does.

You fill his thoughts. An unbidden, contagious, line of thinking that ruins his focus. He thinks of everything but fucking you. Thinks of the way you’d purred, and the way you’d laid against him. He thinks of your voice in his ear, the diagrams drawn in thin air, the weight of shadowed weapons. He thinks of the softness of your hips, the dig of his fingers into your thighs.

He thinks of the way his hands had wrapped around your neck in disgust. Thinks of the way you’d gasped and clawed at him. He thinks of how he’d felt doing it, the wash of guilt and shame that it brought. He’d liked it, and you’d done nothing to stop him.

He thinks of the way you’d smiled at him, the way you’d smiled at Hush. How could they feel so different? How could he feel so different?

He tapes his hands too tight when he goes to beat the bag in the gym for a second time. It hurts each time his fist collides with the stiff fabric. It’s good, deserved even. Men like him don’t get softness.

He remembers the way you’d pressed your lips to his jaw, and whispered for him to get some sleep.

He hadn’t slept so well in years.

Ghost doesn’t bother knocking on the door to Price’s office until he’s already got his hand on the handle. Barely waits to be told ‘enter’ before he’s opening the door. He shouldn’t be surprised to see you, can feel the weight of you starting to slip onto his shoulders just by proximity. It makes him tired, warmth seeps into his bones like a heavy quilt and

“There are three ways humans can acquire demons,” Price’s demon explains, “People like Price who summon them are more traditional by human standards.” Ghost’s eyes fix on Price, what do they mean summoned? Price catches his eye and nods once, short.

“Heard the rumors, figured as long as I was getting blood on my hands I’d do it properly,” Price sniffs, “we do what we have to, to make the world safer. Nothing else to think about.”

“But-” The demon interjects, obviously not happy about the interruption, Price shrugs, “Cases like yours aren’t that uncommon. Plenty of soldiers out there have to compartmentalize their humanity in order to do what’s necessary, you were just a little better at it.”

“Suppose’ to be a compliment?” Ghost narrows his eyes at the demon, they seem unphased.

“It’s a fact. You’ve compartmentalized the humanity most people wear publicly, you’re a dead-man-walking. No time for human emotion, no desire to share your secrets, no desire to learn anyone else’s. You only care about getting closer to the kill you’re tasked with, here to do one job and one job alone.” The demon takes a breath, lets it out and shakes their head. “You take pleasure in your work, some unknown force is paying for what happened to Simon with every enemy you kill. Well, this is what you get-” They gesture to you, “a weapon to help you keep exacting your revenge, with enough humanity to help you sleep at night.”

“Didn’t ask for your ‘elp.” Ghost growls, “was doin’ just fine wi’out ‘er.”

“And humanity was doing just fine killing each other without the atomic bomb,” The demon shrugs, “You adapt, you find better ways to kill each other, and we update our recruitment tactics.”

“The contract sweet’eart,” Price rumbles.

“It’s Hell, the fine print has fine print,” The demon sighs, pinching the bridge of their nose, “If you were expecting a termination clause there isn’t one, the best we can do is revise it.”

“I actually-” Ghost’s head jerks at your voice, it sounds so much smaller than the last time he heard it, you seem smaller, it tugs at something he buried long ago, “-had a thought on that.”

“Let’s hear it,” Ghost prompts. You glance at him, there’s an emotion in your eyes that he can’t put a name to. He knows it well enough, felt it enough times to know when it’s staring him down. It chafes at him, he doesn’t want you to look at him like that. “Good for you to get away from me too, don’t wanna be around a woman that think’s I’m gonna hurt ‘er.” That only seems to make it worse, your smile is so forced that you may as well have a gun to your head.

“You could’ve told me, I wouldn’t have-”

“But I did,” hurt you, Ghost cuts himself off, forcing the correction, “you did.”

He couldn’t have told you. Wouldn’t have told you. What did you need to know about him that you couldn’t see? He was a machine made for slaughter, and you wanted to be the butcher’s knife. That was all you needed to be. He didn’t know why you tried so hard to get closer. He didn’t like-

“If the contract is to provide him some humanity, we just need to get him to a point where he doesn’t need me anymore.” You smile at the other demon. Their eye twitches, their expression impassable.

“If you were unable to fulfill the contract,” Price’s demon starts, before shaking their head, “No, revisions are the best bet.”

“Let ‘er try,” Price decides, “Simon can make adjustments in the meantime.”

“This is exciting,” You chirp, “like a really intense mandated therapy sort of thing.”

Ghost hums, does his best to ignore the way you stretch out on his bed. It’s been less than 48 hours without you and somehow it settles the squirming in his chest to see you making yourself comfortable. It also churns in his stomach. You smile to yourself, pleased. He doesn’t know how you can be happy with the way things are shaking out. Don’t you want to get away from him?

“I was thinking we could start with something really easy, and you could share some music or something,” You say, rolling onto your side, “you know you can really learn a lot about someone from the music they listen to. Me, I like all that techno stuff, the real bee-boop-y crap that you can feel in your chest.”

Ghost tries to focus on the damage he took in the gym earlier, the bruised knuckles, the split that’s broken his skin where the wraps cut too tight. Your voice is so nice to hear again, the softness of it cradles him in a way he can’t explain. Your weight in his shadow presses onto his shoulders, pressure points he didn’t know he could miss until they were gone.

“You look like a metal kind of guy,” You continue, “I don’t mind metal, maybe you we could listen to some of your favorite songs some time, like a date-”

Ghost flinches and you shut your mouth with an audible click. Ghost swallows, digs his blunt nail into the split skin on his knuckle until it bleeds. He needs something to ground him, to keep him from feeling the flush that spreads over his neck. You’d be better off- He’d be better off without you.

“Maybe favorite foods are better!” You try, your voice taking on too much excitement for him to cut out, “I bet you have something really sweet you like, did your mom bake? Mine did and I-”

“Would you stop being so damn cheerful?” Ghost snaps, you flinch to sit up straight and he lowers his voice, “I-” He stops himself, looking away. Silence lapses between you.

“What would you have me do Ghost?” You ask, shoving down the hurt until it cools in your stomach. He shakes his head, avoiding your eye. “You don’t like when I’m upset, you don’t like when I’m happy. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know,” He admits, the feeling sours in his throat like bile. He can’t swallow it down, can’t put it on a shelf like he always does. He feels the question he always wanted to ask but never had the courage to hear the answer to biting into him. “Aren’t you angry?”

You blink at him, your brows pulling down as your lips do. He doesn’t see where the confusion is coming from, if it’s confusion at all. Your mouth moves as you swallow, working through the words he’s sure you have bubbling in your throat. “No,” you say finally, “I might be later, but right now-” you shake your head, “I’m just drained.”

It kills him. He knows the feeling, the way shutting the door to his room always seemed to take all the air out of him. Anger seemed like such a constant companion these days, he’d assumed it was just that, a constant. “Are you angry?” You ask, the softness in your voice cuts him too deeply. It makes him want to turn and run. Fuck he’s always run from these things, it’s in his nature. Run until he can figure out how to solve the problem. Run away and join the army until he can get his shit together. Run away when his family’s destroyed, run from his name and his face, bury the man that died in Mexico deep in his soul.

“No,” He admits, though that admission feels like iron against his teeth, he’d rather gut himself than put his emotions to words, but he has to start somewhere if he’s going to get rid of you, “I’m scared.”

“I know,” You hum, “can feel it.” You pat the bed next to you, and somehow it feels settling. Ghost takes the steps he needs and perches on the edge of the mattress next to you. The springs creak, dip under his weight, and you lean against his side.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, “I don’t know how to be good for you.”

“Me neither,” Simon mumbles, feeling your head rest against his shoulder. Your fingers lace with his, thumb swiping over his bruised knuckles. He doesn’t know how to be good for you either. All he knows is you’re the one person he can’t run away from, and it scares the shit out of him.

139 notes · View notes

heazueken · 21 hours

Text

Fully Charged

*ೃ༄ summary: Gojo can't wait for you to get home to give him release so he attempts to do it himself

warning(s): MDNI, masturbation, teensy bit of phone sex, explicit sexual content

pairing(s): gojo satoru/reader

w/c; 5k

a/n: another self indulgent fic. I just like thinking about Gojo jerking it and getting desperate...also reader's pronouns are not used, the only implication is the reader having a pussy lol. no use of y/n as well. enjoy!

______________________________________________

“Fuck me,” Satoru sighs when he gets passed the threshold of his front door. He kicks his shoes off, slides his blindfold down to let it sit around his neck, unzips his jacket and beelines straight to his livingroom.

Late into the night was when he finally got home from fighting off four special grades. Day after day this week he was sent on mission that led to another mission and so on and so forth. Three days he’d been away from home, out and about with not even a single moment for himself! He couldn’t even bring himself back any souvenirs, suffice to say the week just hadn’t been all that great. Worst of all— Satoru had a raging boner all day that needed attention.

It was almost embarrassing, walking around town when the pressure of your pants against your hard-on was the only thing you could feel. God, why was it the worst times when he had to get all worked up? He’s the strongest, it didn’t cause him that much turmoil. Satoru could flip a switch and ignore it for the time being, but once home, where he could finally give his Six Eyes a rest and set his ass down on the couch was when the need between his legs became an absolute nightmare to handle. To make matters worse, you were also away on business and you weren’t planning on coming back for another day or two. You had your own business to attend, which led to this very moment— a quiet home, dark and empty of anyone inhabiting it for almost a whole week. Satoru laid across the expanse of the couch and let his head fall backward against the arm rest, releasing a long sigh as the weight of the week finally began to slip off his shoulders like running water.

Running water. A shower would be nice. With a hup and a swift jump off the couch, Satoru was heading down the stairs of his home to the bathroom. He stripped as he began his descent, slipping off his socks first with little hops to keep his balance, shrugging off his jacket and letting it crumple to the floor. He unzipped his pants but reached a hand behind his head to pull his shirt clean off with a quick movement, flipping the light switch to the bathroom on and not bothering to close the door behind him. He shimmied out of his pants, flicked the shower on and finally reached for his underwear, letting his erection spring free. He let out a not so quiet moan at the feeling of the air hitting his hot skin. His eyes look up at the mirror to see his figure, the hot water already creating steam on the glass.

Satoru knew he was good looking, he knew he was hot as hell for that matter. He smiles at himself in the mirror, pointing at himself with finger guns and raises an arm to see the way his bicep flexes in the reflection. He chuckles to himself, his hand cupping around his clavicle, his eyes follow as he trails his own fingers down, his hand touches over the divot of his scar that was left right in the middle of his chest. His fingers move past it and he cups his own pec, the skin gives under his grip and he almost lets his eyes flutter shut to picture your hand instead of his. But he keeps an eye open to follow the natural path of muscle down, feeling the hills of his stomach, then past his belly button where coarse white hair began to grow and make a path down and down and—

Satoru lets out a sigh, watching the way his skin turns a shade of red in the hot, steamy room. His hand cups over his cock, gently wrapping his fingers around it and his jaw slacks open at just the slight touch. He watches himself in the mirror, his dick twitches in his hand and he doesn’t bite back a groan when he sees his tip bead with precum. God, if only you were here to get on your knees and open your mouth for him, wrap your pretty hands around him and take him down your throat just the way he liked. His chin falls against his chest when his hand grips his dick and he gives himself a good tug before taking a deep breath in and pulling away.

Not now. Shower. Then you can finally relieve yourself.

The beating water atop his skin doesn’t help his need for release. Sure, it soothed his aching shoulders and the way it trickled down and wrapped around him like a blanket of warmth had been comforting. But the water hitting his erection only had him bracing a hand on the wall of the shower and ducking his head under the shower head, fighting back more moans. Lathering himself up with soap only seemed to make it worse. With his skin sudsy and slick, he could easily jerk off right here. He had half the mind to when he had to clean between his legs, letting his fingers find his length again to spread the soap over the skin. His forehead presses into the shower wall and he resists the urge to thrust into his hand. The pleasure becoming all too much, his thighs tremble and his knees buckle when he fists his cock again and swipes his head, a mixture of precum and soap washes away with the water and down the drain.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice low and rough. He supports his weight on one leg and braces an arm over the wall, pushing himself back to quickly wash the rest of the soap off. His dick— still needy for attention, curves with it’s heavy weight and it twitches from time to time as Satoru washes his hair clean and finally steps out of the shower. He doesn’t bother grabbing a towel, insisting on air drying his body all except for the towel he placed atop his head. He shakes the water off the tips of his hair and rubs the remaining water off, flipping his head back out of the towel with a sigh of relief and ruffles his damp hair with his hand. He stumbles back up the stairs, stark naked and picks up the trail of clothes he left on his way back up to the living area. Droplets of water make a trail behind him and follow him down a hallway towards his shared bedroom with you.

The moonlight pools into the room and Satoru lets his shoulders slump, forgetting again that you weren’t home yet. Remnants of you lingered still, your clothes riddled over the floor, your pair of reading glasses on the bedside table, untouched for days including the book that rested across the surface. Your slippers neatly sitting beside each other on the floorboards at your side of the bed. Your scent, albeit barely there, still lingered and the smell sent a jolt of electricity throughout Satoru’s body. His hand clenched into a fist, tossing his clothes into a nearby hamper when his cock springs back to life and he lets out what seems to be a whimper. His skin, still damp, makes his senses heightened, his hair sticks on end and a shudder runs across his body when he takes in that scent of you. God, he missed you. He needed you. He needed to lay down and jerk o—

His stomach grumbles and he holds a hand over his tummy, doubling over in the sudden pain. Shit! Barely even ate today. All he had was the sweet hard candy he sucked on throughout the day to give him the energy to get through his one and final mission of the day. He couldn’t even think about food by the time he was finally free and heading back home. He trots back out the room, passes through the hallway again and into the living room. The open space connects to his kitchen and he grabs his phone from off the couch as he makes his way around the bar that separated the rooms and he opens up the fridge. Nothing. Barely anything except for a bento box nestled in the corner of the top shelf. He reaches for it, pulls it out and inspects it for a moment, he doesn’t remember making anything. There’s a sticky note with his name and a few hearts drawn around it, Satoru smiles when he realizes you had made him this. You must have known he’d be hungry when coming back home, you knew how much the higher ups stretched him thin when making him go on a week long mission to exorcize that many special grades.

Satoru opens the box and his chest flutters with a love for you when it is packed with rice, some steamed veggies, a boiled egg and pieces of pork katsu. He remembers now, the night he was getting ready, you had been slaving away in the kitchen. Your back to him as you chopped some veggies.

“You better take this with you on your trip! You know you’re not gonna get a single thing to eat while you’re away.”

Satoru struts up to you, coming up behind and wraps his arms around your torso to rest his chin on his shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll buy some food, and the hotel has a kitchen, you know.”

You scoff, “So you’d rather have subpar hotel food than my cooking?” You elbow him, his Limitless turned off around you so the blow had sent him back a step and he rubs the pain away.

“Ehhh? I just feel bad you’re cooking for me! Should be the other way around, you have to head out soon tomorrow too!” He hugs you again, nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck and breathes in your sweet scent.

“You know I love your cooking more. It’ll make me sad seeing food you made when I get home because it’ll be a reminder you’re not here with me.” His hands slide down your waist, dipping low enough to raise your shirt to give him leverage to get underneath it and feel your skin. He closes his eyes, draws his hips forward and grinds into your backside. He hears a sound come from you, a sigh, then a slight whimper. Then, there’s an elbow to his rib again.

“Oi! C’mon! Can’t I have you before we both have to leave?” You look over your shoulder to him and wave a pair of chopsticks at him.

“You can after I’m done cooking! Go over there—“ You point past him to the bar counter, “have a seat and wait, okay?”

Satoru stands where you had been when cooking, the same chopsticks in his hand as he takes a large bite of rice. He flips through social media on his phone while he wolfs down his meal and he pops his hip against the counter. He looks down between his hands, yup, boner is still there. Thinking of you had been enough to keep the blood pumping and feel flushed all over. He had been embarrassed about how red he’d get in the middle of a heated moment; but once you had cupped his blushing cheeks in your hands and wrapped your legs around and locked your ankles together to drive him deeper inside you, you had told him how hot it was that he’d get this worked up over you. Watching his face turn red made him look more needy, thus making him look even more desirable. He always wanted to look that way for you.

He flips to the camera on his phone. He angles it down to his dick, dropping the chopsticks into the box so he can grab the base of it. He made sure to include the vein that created a path down his pelvis to where he was aching and hard. His tip was red and beaded yet again with his clear precum, he fights the urge to spit in his hand and start jerking it right then and there. But the lighting above had been too perfect for him to pass up a chance to send you a picture of himself. He snaps a photo, ensuring the curve of his cock is shown prominent and the veins of his hand that he knew you liked so well were in frame, including the dripping precum that dribbled down the underside of his shaft. He groans, rubbing his thumb where his length begins before typing your name into his phone and choosing the photo.

Missing you. He hits send and goes back to finishing his meal.

He finishes his food, disappointment rising to the surface as time goes by. Five minutes. He cleaned his bento box and set it on the drying rack. Then ten. He went back to the couch and sat there, contemplating the idea of jerking off right here. Then twenty. He decided against it, put on a show and tried to get his mind off the incessant throbbing. Then thirty. He sighs, the feeling too overwhelming to ignore now and lets his head drop, walks back towards the hallway back to their room where he tosses his phone on the bed and flops himself down in the same manner. Legs and arms sprawled over the covers, he groans into the mattress when he moves his hips to gain a little friction against his sensitive dick. Sliding his head to the side so he rests his cheek against the covers, he huffs out a breath and his mouth hangs open. Another moan escapes him when he grinds into the fabric, feeling the pull of skin, imagining he was pressing against you. He picks up the pace and lets his eyes fall half lidded, a hand grapples the sheets into a fist and he’s full on humping his blankets that smell like you. He brings the fistful up to his nose, taking in the scent and he lets out a loud whimper of your name.

“God, please,” he croaks, his throat tightening with a desire that sends his skin ablaze. He stops for a second, his high coming up too fast, he feels for his phone to see if you’ve answered. Still nothing. He lets the phone fall out of his hand with a forlorn sigh. He huffs and rolls over to lay on his back, scooting himself to his side of the bed so he can rest his back halfway against the headboard of the bedframe.

Satoru reaches over to his bedside table and pulls out his small bottle of lube and tissues. If you weren’t going to answer him then he better take matters into his own hands (literally.) He lets the lube warm in the palm of his hand before ultimately wrapping his long fingers around his cock and finally, finally starts to make an attempt to rid of this need.

He grabs himself at the base, squeezing gently to feel the blood pump through his veins, the warmth spreading across his body and he watches the way his tip leaks even more. If only you were here to be between his thighs— he spreads his legs apart as the image slowly appears behind his eyelids that he’s fluttering shut— your mouth open, tongue reaching out to lick a stripe across his head and taste the saltiness. His hand moves in slow and deliberate swipes, his grip hard enough to bring his foreskin up over his tip to spread his wetness across his shaft. He slides his hand up and up, his tip in the palm of his hand and his hand tightens. Satoru’s mouth opens to release a moan, his hips shift up into his hand as he imagines your throat closing around him. He brings his fist back down to his base, coarse hair tickling the skin before raising his hand back up to the head of his cock. His lubed and wet index finger swipes across the underside of his cock where the pink tip begins, his finger expertly swipes up and down.

“Ugh— ahh— Please!” Your tongue flicks and laps on his tip, he can practically feel it, mimicking the sensation with his own digits to make up for the fact you weren’t here to physically do it for him. Satoru’s eye screw shut and his finger quickens its pace, the stimulation rising makes his skin feel like it’s been lighten ablaze and his chest heaves.

“Please, please— fuck,” He breathes, “Just like that!” He groans, instantly becoming louder. Had you been there you’d be shushing him; Satoru had a tendency to be a little loud, so much so that you’ve gotten a few complaints here and there. The man had no shame in declaring his pleasure for you, even if you weren’t home and he was fucking his own fist to find some semblance of relieve with the lack of company.

He lets out a whimper and a moan of your name as his fist wraps around his head and he twists his wrist, rubbing his tip like that, his thighs trembling with the overstimulation. Satoru’s mouth hangs open when he slides his hand back down to where his cock begins. His hips help his efforts when he thrusts his fist up and down in a deliberate and calculated manner. He tosses his head back, hitting his scalp against the headboard but the pain doesn’t phase him. He’s so lost in his pleasure that he doesn’t feel anything but the tingling sensation when he swipes his thumb over where he’s most sensitive, nor does he notice the drool pooling in his mouth. It slides over the corner of his mouth and drips down his chin. He lets out another groan, even louder than the last, the wet squelch of his hand wrapped around his cock fills his ears and the image of him thrusting in and out of your mouth has his toes curling. He can hear his blood flowing in his ears, barely being able to hear himself when he lets a string of curses release from his mouth.

“Fuck— just like that, let me fuck your mouth like that—“ His fist quickens, one eye cracks open to see he’s swollen, red, and his veins traveling up his cock are prominent. The coil inside his lower abdomen begins to tighten, as well as his hand, the speed unrelenting. “Agh, so wet…and tight for me, huh? Taking my cock so well,” He whines, his legs raise, spreading apart as his hand holds one of his legs open and bent under his knee. His body rocks, the intense feeling of him about to cum is there, it’s almost there! If he can just thrust more into his hand then maybe—

He lets go instantly, breathing heavy and struggling to catch his breath. He looks down between his legs where his cock twitches, it’s heavy and leans to one side, resting against his thigh. Satoru watches creamy white ooze out of his tip. The cold air of the room hits his skin and the contrast of his heated skin has him gripping the sheets beside him and involuntarily thrusting up into nothing. He needed to cum, this was torture! He needed you! He needed to feel your skin, feel your mouth on him, smell your scent— your scent. Satoru whips his head to look around the room, locating a forgotten shirt on the wood floor, he leans over the bed, snatches it up and lays it over his chest. His hand grapples the clothing in one hand and grips his cock again with his dominant one. He brings the shirt to his nose, the smell of your perfume, your skin, your very essence engulfs his senses and his eyes roll back into his head. His drive comes back to life, a thin layer of sweat now sheens his skin. Satoru makes quick work with more lube, squirting more into the palm of his hand and continues fisting his cock. The tip slides in and out of the opening between his thumb and palm, the wet sounds increase in their volume, as does his moans.

It’s almost like you’re with him. Almost. He slinks down so he’s fully laying on the bed, his hair going astray as he presses his head into his pillow. Satoru turns over onto his side, he lowers his head to dig his nose further into the fabric and takes a deep breath in. He thrusts, sending a jolt down his body when he imagines fucking into you, his mouth opens and bites the fabric as if he was digging his teeth into your shoulder. He lets out a loud groan, it turns high pitched and into a whimper as he fucks his own fist and his hand smacks against his pelvis, creating a filthy wet sound. That feeling inside him begins to coil again, veins protrude on his pelvis in his desperation and his throat tightens.

“Ugh, please, please,” His words are muffled with the shirt between his teeth. His hand tightens around him in the same way your pussy would squeeze and attempt to keep him sheathed inside. “Please, I need to cum! Let me cum in you, please—“ He chokes on his words, letting the shirt go and rubs his cheek into the soft cushion. The bed begins to rock and it squeaks under his weight, he can feel you, inside you, the perfect image of you open wide for him and taking him in with an ease that made his hands tremble. He can smell you, he can practically taste you, he can feel you wrapped around him. But it still wasn’t enough.

“God, please, just let me cum. I need it, just let me cum in you! Be good for me,” He begs, rolling onto his back once again, shakes the fabric off himself, leaving it forgotten beside his shaking body.

The scent isn’t helping anymore, he needed more! Maybe more stimulation… Satoru uses his other hand, squeezes his cock and thrusts his hips up into both hands. The head of his cock is wet and sensitive, each thrust against his palms sends electricity down his body, eliciting a slew of connected moans and pleads for release. But it’s not enough, his head falls into the pillow in frustration, he feels that itching in his throat— his eyes begin to burn and his chin trembles as he fights back his angry tears. One slips past his eyelids, his hands begin to slow their movements, his cock twitches with the loss of contact when he pulls away and pats around for his phone. The room is pitch black now, the moon hiding behind the trees in the distance. When Satoru taps his screen to open it, the light blinds him, drawing out a frustrated sigh and quickly unlocking the screen to your contact. He presses the speaker button when the phone begins to ring.

The phone rings once, twice, thrice— there’s silence and when he brings the phone closer to his ear, he hears a slight groan and shuffling on the other end.

“Hello?” You’re groggy, clearly woken up out of a deep, deep sleep. Satoru practically moans into the microphone at the sound of your voice, feeling that adrenaline of a newfound arousal that creeps up his spine. His hand immediately goes back to its previous job. He grunts, and he hears you ask the same question before going silent. He’s sure you know it’s him, he’s sure you can hear him jerking himself off. He’s sure you hear him when your name tumbles out of his mouth.

“Please, please, I can’t cum without you. Just tell me I can cum and I’ll leave you alone until you get home, I promise.” His words are littered with desperation when he uses both hands again.

“Satoru, wha— are you—?” There’s another plea that leaves his mouth and you’re on the other end still struggling to wake up. The realization hits you in the middle of a yawn when his words are finally processed and you’re staring down at your phone as your name and a string of desperate cries surround you. You lay your head back down, eyes fluttering shut and resting your phone beside you.

“You needed me that bad? Couldn’t wait one more night?”

Satoru shakes his head as if you could see him. A strangled grunt leaves him and he’s turning his head towards his phone.

“I couldn’t wait! I can’t now! I tried so hard, tried to get off without you. I thought I could do it but—“ He cries, tears streaming down his face. His chest tightens, his thighs tremble and spread away from each other, his hands squeeze around him, his back arches off the bed. That coil is ready to snap, it just needs your word to do so.

“I thought I could do it but I need you. I need your voice. Please, please let me cum!”

You could be cruel, make him hold off a little longer to hear him beg harder, louder. If you were there you would, you’d have him crying and overstimulated, have him thrusting into you and grabbing you so roughly that he leaves crescent shaped dents in your skin from his nails. He’d grab you to hold onto his own sanity, he’d look up at you with pleading eyes, his mouth open to speak but no words can be made out. He’d be a babbling mess until you finally gave him the word and he was filling you to the brim with his passion. But the effort would be too much, and he clearly had been working on this for a while now. You flicked your phone out of the phone call to check the notification from him.

Ah. A dick pic. One and a half hours ago. So he had been working on this for a bit.

“You looked really worked up earlier. I wonder how much worse it’s gotten.”

Satoru releases a high pitched whimper at the attention finally given to him. The sleep still apparent in your tone, but your voice becomes softer— like the way you’d whisper into his ear to drive his orgasm out of him.

“I was— I am! It’s unbearable! It’s so— I’m so hard for you, fuck! Please, just say the word! Let me cum for you, I’m begging you!!” That tightening inside him is about to snap, it waits for that final word, those words that could drive him to salvation and have him moaning his thanks. You lay in the darkness of your hotel room, letting him plead over and over until you feel your own arousal rise up and spread a warmth between your legs. You open one eye, your hips naturally moving to find just a bit of friction between your clit and the fabric covering you. Sleep almost takes over, it’s stronger than your sexual drive and your eye flutters back shut before you finally whisper to Satoru.

“Cum for me, Satoru. Lemme hear you.”

Snap. Satoru’s jaw slacks open, his eyes widen and go cross eyed as the wave of pleasure takes over his entire body. His reddened skin ignites a fire inside him, his hands tremble and struggle to squeeze like before, his hips driving up into his fists with a sloppy and quick pace. The sound of your voice knocked him right off the edge and his cum spits out in ropes that land across his skin. The pleasure drives throughout his body, his throat closes as he rides out his orgasm, strangling cries come through the phone to your end and you can picture the way he looks. He’s releasing a hand to grab for the sheets again, his chest rises and falls, his muscles ripple beneath skin as more of his cum dribbles out of his tip in now weak spurts that travel down over his fingers. The orgasm has his head spinning, his vision blurs and his limbs begin to feel weak, and yet his cock still twitches and slowly begins to soften. Cum leaks out of him and he lets his eyes shut when the high begins to lower and the rushing blood in his ears deafens. His limbs go limp and he lets his head tilt to the side.

“Thank you,” He huffs, a whisper so quiet that he doesn’t know if you even heard it. He’s silent for a moment, his heart slowing down with each large intake of breath. Satoru strains his ear for you to say something. There’s a snore, and then another shuffle of what sounds like rustling covers. He sighs, letting his gaze linger at the ceiling as his body finally loosens from the tension that he had been building all day. He rests for a few minutes, letting his mind wander to you finally coming home and hugging him close in a greeting. A smile forms on his lips and his last bit of energy is used to get up and take another quick shower.

When he returns to his room, still naked except for the towel wrapped around his hips, he gets back into bed and leans down to speak into the phone.

“Excited to see you tomorrow. I promise I’ll make it up to you…you know, after waking you up in the middle of the night. Love you.” He hangs up the phone and settles into bed, a wide smile grows across his face as he lets himself fall into another dream of you coming home and stripping your clothes off. Pushing him into the bedroom and locking the door behind you, getting on top of him and exposing your skin to him. Raising his hands up to your breasts to cup them, you grinding down into his lap and then letting his name fall out of your mouth with a heavy need.

Satoru rolls onto his other side, his brows scrunched together in a sudden discomfort. He tosses and turns, a feeling boiling in his bowls and creeping it way downward toward— he looks under the covers, groans and slumps his head back into his pillow. “Hard again.” He groans, grabbing his phone to call you again.

#pepper writes #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo #my writing #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

136 notes · View notes

oneforthemunny · 24 hours

Note

1, A, ! (You don't have to write this one. 😈)

for the mind who came up with this game idea??? yes i do. your roll: cowboy!eddie, over the knee, and hand ;)

minors dni. dom/sub themes, spanking, a little mocking. teasing/meanish!eddie.

Eddie huffed, tossing the shovel down with a dramatic grunt. "You're just gonna stand there?" You didn't need to see him to know that his gloved hands were on his hips, jaw ground tight in annoyance.

You kept your back to him, defiant and furious. Too stubborn to retreat to the house in defeat that you hadn't got either things you wanted, so you stood, making him painfully aware of your displeasure.

"I told you I'd help you after 'while-"

"-It's been after while." You snapped, eyes rolling hard. "You always do this-"

"-Oh, don't you even start-"

"-You don't want me to do anything because I'll hurt myself, but then you put the things I ask you to do at the very bottom of your to do list." You turned, glaring at him pointedly.

Eddie's lips rolled, eyes slitting in a glare. "I do not." He snapped. "I told you this morning, I'd help you when I got done with everything I needed to. There's things I need to do, and I told you that."

You scoffed, starting to retort. Eddie stepped forward, boots heavy on the wooden barn floor. "And you're just mad I didn't help you when you wanted to."

"You said-"

"-I said, when I was done." Eddie snapped. "I'm not done, and your whining is only slowing me down." You pouted at him, petulant and little embarrassed.

Eddie softened at your grumpy look, arms crossed over your chest, lip jutted in fury. "Why don't you just sit out here, and keep me company while I finish this, alright?" He nodded towards the small stool in the corner. "Talk to me nice while I finish this up."

"Why don't I just go do it myself?" You grumbled, stomping towards the stool in the corner. "It can't be that hard."

"Quit that." Eddie clicked. "I've told you now. I'll help you put the feeder in, just let me-"

"-I can do it." You snapped stubbornly. "You act like I'm incompetent-"

"-What?-"

"-Like I'm stupid," You sneered. "I am more than capable of putting a feeder in the coop-"

"-I never said you weren't, so don't start puttin' word in my mouth that you know I never said." Eddie was beyond annoyed now, teetering on furious, patience running thin at your little bratty attitude.

"But you're not letting me." You scoffed, throwing your hands up in annoyance, giving him a furious eye roll. "That makes soo much sense. Wait for you, even though I can do it, but wait for you because-"

"-Why are you being so hateful?" Eddie snapped, voice booming loud enough to have Medusa stopping in the pastures, looking at Eddie with caution. "I told you I'd help you when I got done, you've come out here and been nothin' but mean-"

"-I don't understand why I can't just do it-"

Eddie gawked at you, disbelief, annoyance, all mixed up and apparent on his face. "Are you- You're seriously fightin' with me about this still? When I've told you why?" He blinked at you. "What? Are you just wantin' a spankin'? Wanting to get on my nerves and piss me off so I'll spank you? Is that it?"

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, fused with furious heat. "No," You snapped. "I want you to help me." Maybe it was a little true? At least he'd give you attention.

"Alright," Eddie pulled his gloves off with a huff, tossing them on the wheelbarrow of hay besides him. "I've had enough. Get over here."

"What?" You squeaked, an excited thrill rushing through your body straight to your core. "No!"

"Yes," Eddie snapped, heavy soled stepped bounding towards you. You stood up but didn't back away, letting him catch you by the arm, hand firm on your upper arm. It nearly had you drooling, dominance oozing out of him, it was magnetic.

"You've been acting awfully mean all day," Eddie grumbled, sitting on the small wooden bench by the door, pulling you over his knees. "Shoulda known this was what you were wanting."

"I don't." You huffed, a half hearted wiggle over his knee in protest that he saw right through, shoving your little sundress up.

"Right," Eddie scoffed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You've just been mean for fun then? Just to piss me off."

"You're pissing me of- ow!" You pushed against his leg, body bucking in the air at the first sharp smack of his calloused hand on your ass.

Eddie gritted his teeth, wrestling you back into place, before delivering two more searing swats to each cheek. You wiggled, writhed, put up on helluva fight- which he was used to, loved it, really. He'd told you at the beginning of your relationship, when you'd first started exploring your little dynamic, that you rivaled even the wildest broncos. "Rode and tamed them before, so I'll do the same to you," Eddie had grinned at you. "You're a lot wilder than them, baby, I'll give you that."

Your hips lifted when Eddie gave a harsh smack to the center of your ass, vibrations of pain and pleasure shaking right into your core, leaving you whimpering desperately.

Eddie snickered lightly. "Knew it, look at you." He tsked lightly. "Like a cat in heat, Christ almighty."

"I am not!" You whined, palms pressing into the wood of the bench, Eddie's hand pressing you back into place. "Stop it, Eddie." It was half-hearted, your body betraying you with every deep arch of your spine towards his touch.

Eddie scoffed, squeezing the fat of your ass firmly, grinning at how you squealed, your skin raw from his assault. "Should've just told me you wanted a spanking instead of bein' mean." He slapped your ass again, swallowing at the recoil.

"I didn't." You whined.

"Hmm," Eddie pulled your cheeks apart, looking at your drooling, puffy lips between your legs. So painfully wet, he could taste it, licking his lips at the thought of burying himself between your legs right here.

You shuddered, turning your face into your folded arms in front of you in excited shame. Eddie continued delivering sharp smacks to each cheek, a steady rhythm building, not missing the way your hips rose and fell, grinding desperately onto whatever was beneath you for friction.

When Eddie finished, giving you a final smack to the center of your ass that had you crying out, you looked at him with an exaggerated pout.

"Aw, look at you, baby. Just a pitiful little thing, aren't ya?" Eddie cooed nearly mockingly. He pinched your jutted lip lightly, grinning when you whined. "You gonna be good for me?"

"Yes," You purred, smug- you were finally getting what you wanted.

"Good." Eddie pushed down your dress, patting your ass. "Take a seat and wait for me. I'll be done soon."

Your mouth fell in shock, watching him adjust himself before grabbing his gloves and going back to work.

95 notes · View notes

eepwriting · 1 day

Note

vessel and iv fucking reader so gently and taking care of them after a long day:((

- funera1pyre 💝

We’ll Help ✶ Vessel x IV x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, threesome, oral, intercourse, masturbation

Anon 👁️👁️ you really did it with this ask. Hope y’all enjoy. Thanks again for this request!! 🤍🤍

!! mdi !!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

You let the door behind you close harder than intended, kick your shoes off and let your bag fall to the floor. The tears you’d held in all day threaten to spill now that you’re home.

You notice but don’t bother to greet Vessel and IV who are sat on the couch, walking by quickly to get to your room. The two look over at each other, iv shrugging his shoulders. Vessel rolls his eyes slightly, shaking his head before leaving the room after you.

You make a poor attempt to wipe the free flowing tears from your eyes and face when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. It creaks open when you don’t answer, Vessel popping his head in to peek at you. A deep frown forms on his face when he sees you. Lying on your side, a pillow clutched to your chest, eyes red, face covered in tears.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He steps into your room fully, closing the door behind him. You give him a nod and he helps you sit up before sitting down next to you. His hands smooth over the top of your head before cupping your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks.

You look to the door when it opens again. IV leans against the doorframe. His eyes are full of concern when he notices your puffy eyes and splotchy cheeks. He’s quick to sit down opposite of Vessel, his hand rubbing comforting circles over your back.

“It’s work. My boss, my coworkers. It feels like no matter what I do, it’s never good enough.” You lean your head on iv’s shoulder and Vessel grabs both your hands in his. “I know it’s probably not true, but I hate going in there everyday feeling like I’m just taking up space.” IV hums and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re so valuable. You know that.” Vessel leans over to pepper kisses on your cheek. His hands squeeze yours.

“Anyone who doesn’t appreciate you or your work clearly can’t see how amazing you are.” IV wraps his arm around you, his covered mouth moves on your temple as he speaks.

You let out a small laugh, blush rising to your cheeks. “You guys are sweet, but you’re not just saying that, are you?”

“No.” Vessel grabs your jaw, turning your face so he can look at you. “It pains me to think that you don’t know how valued you are.” His thumb swipes back and forth over your cheek. “We can show you how much we appreciate you. We’ll help, won’t we iv?” Vessel looks over to him, iv’s head nods eagerly.

Vessel smiles a full smile before turning back to you. “Hm, what do you say? Can we help?” He pulls your face to his, lips meeting the corner of your mouth as you give him a hesitant nod. A whine leaves your throat when he presses his lips to yours, his hand moving to rest on your thigh.

You feel iv move to sit behind you, his hands running up and down your sides. You let him pull you to sit in between his legs, his mouth attaching to the side of your neck. You reach one hand up to hold iv’s face, the other reaching for Vessel’s cheek. Vessel moves his lips down your jaw to your neck. Two mouths leaving open mouth kisses on your skin. You sigh as you look up at the ceiling, your brain foggy with need.

“Why don’t you sit back there with iv.” Vessel presses a kiss to your throat. You turn as iv pulls away from you, shifting to sit with his back against the headboard. He pats his thighs and reaches for you. You crawl to sit between his open legs again, back against his chest. It’s not long before his mouth resumes its previous position on your neck. His hands dance over your stomach and sides under your shirt, grabbing and pulling you against him.

You watch through unfocused eyes as Vessel works your bottoms down your legs, his hands running over your skin as he goes. He moves each leg to drape over iv’s, effectively holding them open. He settles between your legs, groaning as he gropes at your thighs. “Look at you. So pretty.” His mouth moving over your inner thigh, licking and nipping at your skin.

You almost can’t focus. With the way iv’s lips and tongue move over your neck, his hands tweaking and pulling at your nipples, Vessel’s mouth sucking marks on your thighs, his hands massaging your skin. It’s hard to keep your mind straight. You can barely remember what you were crying about just minutes before.

IV turns your face away from watching Vessel, his neck craning around to kiss you. His kiss is vastly different from Vessel’s. Fast and needy, his tongue invading your mouth almost instantly. He bucks his hips up into you, groaning at the friction. You reach a hand back behind yourself, palming over him as he breathes into your open mouth.

Your own hips buck up with you feel Vessel’s mouth on you. His tongue dancing over you. He takes his time, lips and tongue spending precious time on bringing you to the edge.

IV feels painfully hard under your palm, whiny moans in your ear as he watches the scene in front of him.

You can’t stop your hips from their wild movements, moans and whines freely flow from your mouth. Vessel’s mouth doesn’t leave you until your thighs shake, your chest heaving as you lean into iv more, trying to get away from Vessel’s mouth.

He lets up, returning to your thighs as you try to catch your breath. He crawls up to you and you sit up to meet him halfway, kissing him with more need than you’d ever felt. Your hand moves faster over iv and you’re rewarded with more groans in your ear when he leans forward to wrap himself around you. You reach out for Vessel, your other hand finding his cock, matching the rhythm of your hand working over iv.

Vessel groans into your mouth before pulling away from you. “IV seems a little needy, doesn’t he? I think he wants to help too.” He kisses your cheek and brushes your hand away.

IV is quick to reposition you, guiding you to lay on your back before standing to remove his jeans. His mouth meets yours again as he half straddles your thighs. His movements are more gentle now, taking advantage of his time with you. He kisses and licks into your mouth for a long while, your head spinning, his hands running over every inch of skin he has access to. He pulls away to gather spit in his palm, pumping himself over you. You turn your head to notice Vessel sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. His pants tugged down his thighs, hand lazily working over himself as he watches the two of you.

You whimper as you watch the two men around you, eyes flicking between them. “Shh, I got you.” IV leans down to pepper kisses on your cheeks and forehead, his cock pushing against you, easing in ever so slowly. Whines simultaneously leave you both when he’s fully buried in you. He lets his hips rest against yours, his hand caressing the side of your face while he looks down at you. He brings your legs up to hook over his shoulders and presses soft kisses to your calves. “I don’t want to see you crying again. Kills me too much to see you like that, you know that?” His hips slowly thrusting into yours.

You breathe out a breathy whine and nod, reaching up to grip at his sides. He keeps his thrusts slow and gentle, paying special attention when he hears your moans tick up an octave, when your back arches. You take turns watching iv over you, then turning to watch Vessel. Who clenches his jaw every time you look at him, his hand pumping himself harder.

It doesn’t take long for your second release to sneak up on you. Your legs drop from iv’s shoulders to hook around his waist. Your nails dig into his sides, eyes shut tightly as your mouth opens in a silent cry. “There you go. So good for us.” IV’s voice is quiet in your ear, a groan punctuates his praise. He fucks you through your climax, his hips speeding up slightly as he chases his own.

Your eyes open with heavy lids. Vessel stands next to the bed now, hand moving quickly over himself, his mouth hung open. He lets out a deep grunt before leaning over you, ropes of his cum painting your stomach and chest.

IV’s hips still, flush against your own, his head thrown back as he breathes out a groan. Warmth spreads through your lower half as you watch the two of them above you.

Vessel kneels down beside you, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you whine out at iv pulling himself from you. Your eyes close as iv’s hands rub your sides comfortingly. You’re too spent to say or do anything.

You let the two of them clean you up, almost half asleep when Vessel lifts you from the bed, carrying you to the bathroom. One of them must of ran a bath as you dozed off, but you couldn’t remember either of them leaving your side.

Vessel washes your hair for you, kneeling next to the tub, iv sitting on the closed toilet lid, just watching. They manage to dress you in loose clothes and get you comfortable in bed. Each lay on either side of you, arms and legs tangled together.

You could safely say you now knew how much you were valued and just how much the two of them cared for you. Even if you needed a little help to really believe it.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

I…ugh.

I was so excited to write this anon, I hope it doesn’t disappoint. Thank you again!

K. Bye bye.

#sleep token #sleep token worship #sleep token fic #sleep token x reader #sleep token smut #sleep token vessel #vessel sleep token #vessel x reader #sleep token iv #iv sleep token #iv x reader

68 notes · View notes

lazyjellyfish300 · 21 hours

Text

Down Bad pt 2

Peter B. Parker x AFAB Stripper!Reader

Synopsis: Peter B. just has to win you over somehow, having caught feelings after your one night stand. Word count 1.1k

Part 1

A/N: sooo I had this thought and decided to continue this from part 1. In the meantime trying sooo hard to find motivation to write DBF!Peter part 2. Sorry it's taking me forever. 💀 I'm just dragging my feet bc I know it's gonna be a long one.

CW: MINORS DNI, SMUT (PROTECTED P IN V, EDGING AND DOM BEHAVIOR MENTIONED,CUM EATING, ORAL M RECEIVING BUT NOT TOO DETAILED), SEXUAL HARASSMENT, MILD VIOLENCE(FIST FIGHT), LITTLE BIT OF STALKERISH BEHAVIOR, fantasizing, PETER B. IS KIND OF A LOSER IN THIS ONE

-----

Peter B. can't stop thinking about you. He did this to himself yes, found a beautiful dancer, spent practically his life savings for one night, but you snatched his soul in the process. He had to have more of you.

He even made a fake profile on Instagram to stalk you.

Fuuuck you look so good in your pictures, imagining that cute pout you're making in your selfies looking up at him from on your knees instead, the videos of you dancing and grinding, shaking your ass, drive him absolutely bonkers. Sure wishing he was the lucky guy underneath you instead of the floor.

And now he's a lovesick puppy watching you pitifully from across the club alone on a Saturday like a loser, no cash to spare and nothing of value to offer you, just endless orgasms and a lifetime of happiness and love.

If you'd just give him the chance.

You know damn well he's here, loving every minute of the sad attention he's paying you. Making sure to bend over at every opportunity and shoot him a glance from the stage during your routine, making that face like you're cumming with your pretty lips wide open and then biting your lip while looking at him directly in the eyes from the pole.

Fffuck baby...don't look at me like that...

You liked toying with him like this, loved dominating him and hearing his little whimpers as you sucked his cock, edging him all night long, only for him to be practically crying when you did finally let him cum.

It was the most earth shattering orgasm he's ever had in his life, and you even swallowed it.

Jesus, nobody has ever done that before, his exes would turn him down from a bj completely or spit in the sink, but watching you coo softly up at him and slowly slurp up his cum from your lips with a pretty little smile and a wink.

Oh God that changed something in him.

He knew you'd never look his way, pretty young thing like you would probably end up with one of those hunky college guys, much like the ones that are badgering you right now, yelling at you to take off your skimpy dancer's outfit.

"Let's see some more baby, come on don't be shy."

"Sorry boys...club rules says I can't." You try to let them down easy with a little pout of your lips.

Peter puts down his beer, sitting up slowly when he realizes these guys just don't know when to quit. It's four against one, but he'll be damned if he sits here and lets these assholes harass his beautiful little dancer and make you cry.

Your eyes are frantic as you try and escape the scene, gasping when you see Peter come up, grab the tall one that's got his dirty hands on you by the shoulder, punching him square in the jaw.

It's not long before all of them are beating his ass, he grunts and eats blow after blow as they kick and punch him, wheezing on the ground. You scream for help and run towards security.

Peter lets out a loud groan with relief when security arrives and swiftly kicks out his attackers, sighing dreamily and looking at you with a little smile between his purple bruised eyes and busted lip. You gently blot a tissue against a bleeding scratch above his eyebrows, patching him up.

It's the second best feeling of his night, compared to right now as he watches you ride his cock.

Getting beat up by four guys was totally worth it to have his angel back in his bed again. And honestly, you're completely fine getting fucked by this handsome divorced DILF.

He groans loudly, your heavenly pussy gripping him like a vice, and fuck you know just how to move your hips, hitting all those sweet spots inside you that feel equally as good to him.

"Jesus, baby....riding me like you missed me...."

He jokes but lets out another groan when he feels his cock stroke another nice spot against your soft walls.

"F-feels amazing...."

You smirk, watching him get all fucked out below you, wielding the power you have over him with just a move of your hips.

"Had to reward my knight in shining armor for being so brave..." You croon at him in a honeyed voice.

"Heh, ahah....k-knight in shining armor. I like that....Aah!" He closed his eyes, whimpering as he gets closer and closer to coming.

"Shit....aah... baby, you...fffuck...."

He cums inside the condom, chest heaving and panting, letting out a huge sigh and a chuckle, shaking his head as he gazes at the ceiling in utter bliss.

"That...was....*pant*...fantastic...thanks, baby..."

But, you don't answer. He sits up quickly in a worry, only to find you struggling to zip up one of your thigh high boots, hopping in one place and using your hand to steady against the doorframe.

"Where are you going....?" He asks, disappointment in his voice.

You turn, painting on a fake smile.

"Ahh, I gotta get going, sweetheart. Got another shift tomorrow. You know how it is." You try to let him down easy with that cute, sexy little pout of yours.

"Please!" Peter stands up, pulling on his boxers, hastily darting over to you, hand outstretched.

"D-don't leave..." He whispers, his fingers reaching out to touch your arm, then clenching into a fist at his side. His eyes sad and lonely, face still battered and bruised.

You turn, raising an eyebrow to him, trying to hide your slight embarrassment at seeing him standing over you, feeling your thighs get warm at this man who was older yet seemed so weak in your presence alone like nobody else could do it to him.

"I can make you breakfast in the morning..."

"Peter..."

"I-I'll give you whatever you want. W-whatever you need. I'll make you cum again, or we can just sit and talk. You can sleep in my bed and I'll take the couch. I'll get you coffee in the morning. You can use my shower, wear my T-shirts...." He pleads.

"I'd be so good to you if you just gave me a chance...just please stay one more night with me please..."

Your mouth falls open a little as he gets on his knees, his chin resting on your lower stomach, those sad brown eyes too cute to say no to. His hands resting so lightly on the back of your thighs.

You sigh, "Just one more night..."

He beams and pulls you into a hug, getting you a fresh t shirt of his and a clean pair of his boxers to wear, eventually falling asleep on his chest while the TV plays a rerun of some 90's sitcom he's seen a million times while softly stroking your cheek, unaware that your so called compromise of just one more night is going to quickly crumble here shortly.

He can't believe how lucky he is that he won an angel like you, already knowing just what he's gonna cook you tomorrow for breakfast and run to the store to buy you some flowers when you wake up, before he falls asleep holding you.

----

@spider-mon-de-parker @1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer

#peter b. parker #peter b. parker x reader #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker smut #peter b parker #peter b. parker smut #peter b parker x you #peter b. parker x you #peter parker x reader #atsv smut #spiderman x reader #atsv peter b parker

23 notes · View notes

isackwhy · 17 hours

Note

Probably me! It’s okayyyy 👍🏼🤍 can you do more chubby reader x Isaac, maybe a confessing their feelings or being intimate for the first time while the reader is shy. Love your writing and have GOOD day!

u have a good day too bae!!! i’m high as shit. so. i will do both :)

isaacwhy x chubby! reader hc’s

sfw / confession

u never thought he’d like u

that’s what society has told u

he’s a gym rat and ur chubby. would never work.

he’s ur best friend that’s all

yeah until it all boils down and the constant tension u only thought u were imagining breaks down

ur sitting in isaacs room. he’s editing.

ur laying on his bed and he spins around, hair in a bun and slightly disheveled hair from the headset

u look up from ur phone, “what’s up?”

isaac sighs, “am i losing my mind?” he asks w no context

u sit up. now concerned for ur best friend. “isaac, what? if anything u lost that awhile ago,” u chuckle

isaac takes his headset off, leaning forward and looking at you. flabbergasted.

u scoot towards the edge of the bed, “isaac, what’s up—“

“i like you. like i though that was obvious and you’d realize that but you haven’t. you just haven’t y/n. if you don’t like me—are you okay?”

ur jaw is dropped. not believing a word he’s saying. like ur 12 again and it’s some prank from the bullies

“y/n—“

“don’t fuck around with me like that,” your feet hit the floor, trying to escape what u think is a prank

isaac stands up, kinda blocking your path, “i’m not—i’m not fucking around with you. i like you. i’ve liked you for like a long fucking time.”

his tone sounds so genuine but u don’t believe it

u refuse to make eye contact with him

u catch a glimpse of yourself in his mirror

no. no. not me. he’s joking.

“are you doing another impractical jokers—“

“y/n, i have a crush on you!” he specifies, grabbing your shoulders.

u finally look up at him. there’s no mischievous smile. just adoration and u wonder if he’s always looked at u this way

ur heart sinks and u gulp, “like actually?”

he chuckles, “actually.”

“are you sure? i’ve seen the girls u like and like—they’re not me.”

he raises an eyebrow, still holding your shoulders, “huh?” he lets out

ur head falls to ur hands, “like—body? wise?”

his face drops, “oh….y/n…..”

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, “i like you too,” you finally admit

his eyes light up as he pulls you closer, “i like your body. i like your face. i like your interests. you. i like you.”

a part of u still doesn’t believe him. the hung damaged part of you but this is what you wanted. thsi is what you’ve been wanting.

nsfw

it took u a bit to get comfortable w urself n isaac to want to have sex for the first time

he’s a gem. it was mostly ur insecurities (me too gang)

but your make out session is getting intense and Isaac’s lips are trailing down your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake

you’re letting out soft whimpers and shuffle away

u want this. this is what u want. u trust him.

he raises his eyebrows, “you okay, baby?”

u hide your face, “i wanna—i wanna—“

he sits up with a smirk, “have sex?”

you blush, “yeah yeah but uh—can we leave the lights…off. and my shirt…on?”

you feel him pause and u open ur eyes

“baby, we can but you know i like your body.”

“just—please?”

he complies ofc and turns the light off

things get intense again and your pants are off. his shirt his off and your hands wander to his pajama pants

his hands wander up your shirt and u freeze as they graze your stomach

he also pauses

“just please try not to touch my stomach im sorry—“

“stop apologizing,” he sighs and nips at your neck again, “anything to make you comfortable. alright?” he whispers

#tgc x reader #the group chat podcast x reader #the group x reader #the group chat podcast #the group chat #isaacwhy #isaacwhy x reader

22 notes · View notes

aria-allium · 11 months

Text

claude’s b support with hilda is truly insane like. what do you mean it’s just casually brought up that claude’s father tied him to a horse and dragged him around when he misbehaved and his mom did nothing but laugh every time it happened

#i was just sitting there jaw to the floor like #absolutely crazy lore to just drop and then move on #making therapy a thing in 3h just so i can discuss that whole thing w claude for. at Least another hour #the confession box thing isn’t enough #fe3h #claude von riegan #textpost #ari posting

13 notes · View notes

ananxiousgenz · 10 days

Text

JESUS CHRIST ARTHUR LESTER THAT WAS YOUR GIRL DINNER?????

#I was sitting there and I was like “oh that's mr. faust!! oh he must have died :(”#and then he graphically described how he murdered this man and I just.#I just.#fuckin hell man #the longer he talked the more my jaw was on the floor #arthur lester is Not Okay guys #malevolent #malevolent pod #an eldritch being and his wet cat

133 notes · View notes

wikipediagf · 1 year

Text

boyfriend update: HE LIKED ME??????????

#PLOT TWIST #he literally just texted my friend and was like *I just wanted to let you know I fuckung love Layla like she’s awesome wanna see her again •#WHAT ? YOU MADE NO EFFORT ?????????? AND YOU INSULTED ME ??????????????? insane #genuinely sitting here staring at her phone my jaw is on the floor #txt

25 notes · View notes

drugstoreperfumed · 1 year

Text

I wanna live in the moment I heard famous last words for the first time forever

#mcr #CORNY but I just remember sitting alone in my room with my jaw on the floor #like I didn’t actually realize what people meant when they said music could change your life until that moment #I think it’ll always be my favorite song of theirs for that reason like it just clicked #literally awake and unafraid asleep or dead

3 notes · View notes

thepinkseashell · 1 year

Text

ALMOST FOB TIME I AM SO SO SCARED

#LITERALLY JUST SITTING HERE ON THE FLOOR QUAKING LIKE A SMALL DOG FKSJFJJD #THE PLAYLIST FUCKING SLAPS THOUGH THEY PLAYED THE ENTIRETY OF THE JAWS OF LIFE EARLIER AND THEYVE BEEN PLAYING A BUNCH OF POP PUNK SHIT W #A BUNCH OF PTV N FOB MIXED IN THERE ITS GREAT. IT IS NOT CALMING MY NERVES THOUGH KSJFKDJ I AM . SCARED

3 notes · View notes

kleftiko · 6 months

Text

❦ HOW TO GIVE HEAD

cw: mature, sexual content, blowjobs, swearing

here are the tips i give my friends so that they get 10/10 sloppy top ratings

"baby~" you coo from beside him on the couch.

the corner of choso's lips lift slightly in response, but his eyes still focus on the screen of his phone.

"babe~" you call again. "cho~"

although your voice is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard in his life, your boyfriend grants you mercy and finally answers you.

"yes, baby?" he asks softly, eyes not leaving his phone but the small smile still on his face. he can't see the beautiful, but maniacal, grin on your lips.

"teach me how to give a blowjob~"

the tendons in his hand tighten, nearly cracking the poor device between his fingers. besides his entire body going rigid, his eyes lock onto yours, only to nearly lose himself in the look of lust in your gaze.

"y-you can't just ask that shit with a smile on your face!" your boyfriend sputters, cheeks and neck blooming with a harsh blush.

"but who else am i supposed to ask?" your question is just too pure and innocent for the look in your face, and yet, choso can't help but fall victim to you.

"fine, just-fine." he takes a tense breath before saying "sit."

with a little too much enthusiasm, you kneel on the floor between his legs, hands gently resting atop your thighs. you look like a doll to him, so eager to please and so pretty that his cock would twitch even if he didn't know what was going to happen next.

he runs a hand over his face.

"fuck, baby, don't look so eager." his deep voice is muffled behind his fingers.

you giggle. "can't help it."

"'kay, now—um—fuck." choso pinches his nose for a second, gathering his own courage to say, "you're gonna need, like, a lot of spit." while he speaks, your fingers dance across the waistband of his sweatpants, littering his v-line with goosebumps as you free his half hard cock from his boxers.

"it needs to be messy, yea?" you look up at him and lick your lips, coating them with a shine that.

he nods silently, jaw clenched.

"t-then, you're gonna wanna -fuck!" you don't let him finish when you take a lick against his tip. the rough texture of your tongue dulled by the coating of saliva you gathered across it. as you continue to pleasure him, he lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his grip tightening on the edge of the couch. the intensity in his eyes tells you that he's enjoying every moment, encouraging you to take him further down your throat.

"fuck." he whines, taking note of your comfortability, just like always. "breath through your nose."

your head bobs up, taking a breath through your nose now that your throat is clear. swirling the tip of his cock with your tongue, you tease him with slow, deliberate strokes. his hips buck involuntarily, a desperate plea for more. the taste of his precum on your tongue only fuels your desire to please him further.

"the tip-the tip, baby." your tongue pays special attention to the slit at the top of his pretty dick that's leaking absurd amounts of precum, and your boyfriend squeaked out a small, "yes, fuck."

as you continue to focus on pleasuring him, you eagerly comply with his request, intensifying your attention on the sensitive tip of his throbbing member. the combination of his desperate pleas and the taste of his precum drives you to further explore and satisfy him, ensuring his pleasure remains at the forefront of your mind.

"b-balls."

your manicured hands cup his balls. you gently massage and caress them, feeling their weight in your palms. the soft moans escaping his lips encourage you to continue, as you use the pads of your fingers and palms to fondle them.

"oh fuck."

it feels like a shame to waste your nails, so with one of them abandoning your boyfriend's sensitive balls, it creeps up to his v-line. You trace teasing circles along his v-line, feeling the shivers of anticipation ripple through his body. the combination of your delicate touch and the sensation of your nails grazing his skin heightens his arousal, making him tremble with desire.

the combination of all your minstrastions causes choso to buck against you, whimpering out obscenities as he jumbles out a warning of going to cum.

"fuck!" he whimpers as your lips release him.

spurts of cum fly into the air, landing in splats across choso's thighs, pants, and your hands as you lazily jerk him off.

the fucked out expression on his face and the mess he made of himself all because of your doing just made you crave him even more, so with one last move, you gave his angry, red, tip a soft lick, nearly causing him to cry in ecstasy.

when he calmed down, he gave you a look.

"you've done this before."

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo x you #choso kamo smut #kamo choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamo choso smut #choso smut #choso x reader

9K notes · View notes

mostly-imagines · 1 month

Text

Guard Dog

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. ��Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

6K notes · View notes