Tumgik
#if only because it meant i could look at it all frame by frame and cry
ttsukiimi · 2 days
Text
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!
Tumblr media
★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.
★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧・゚𝓖. 𝓢 ✧・゚
Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.
But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.
“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.
You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.
He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”
And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.
Or two.
Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.
Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.
“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.
“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”
✧・゚𝓒.𝓚✧・゚
Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.
And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.
Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.
“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.
Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.
Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.
“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.
“Just..one more, baby,”
✧・゚𝓝.𝓚✧・゚
Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.
But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.
What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.
“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.
His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.
Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.
“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.
“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”
You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.
Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.
✧・゚𝓣.𝓕✧・゚
Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.
Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.
“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.
“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.
“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.
Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.
He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.
“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.
“Good girl,”
2K notes · View notes
thewertsearch · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
JADESPRITE: what did you do to me?? JADE: i prototyped you and brought you back! [...] JADESPRITE: you shouldnt have, this is overwhelming and awful [...] JADESPRITE: its hard to describe what its like JADESPRITE: but its too much for me JADESPRITE: and the sun... JADESPRITE: its way too big and bright and i cant stop seeing it...
Dream Jade was thrust into godhood against her will, and she’s not taking it well. Sensory overload is only to be expected, as her body is pierced by emerald rays that she was never meant to feel.
As far as Jade was aware, Dream Jade's consent to prototype this body was equivalent to her own. She's OK with this, so it's probably somewhat disconcerting that Jadesprite is not. It's like having your own reflection disagree with you.
JADESPRITE: i was happy where i was with my friends
Wait, so Dream Jade was aware after she died? Was she a ghost?
...wait a second.
If Dream Jade had her own consciousness in death, before she was prototyped, doesn't that mean she always had a separate identity to her counterpart? That there were always two Jades in the equation, even though they were never awake simultaneously?
I'm starting to think that everything I know about Dream Selves might be wrong.
JADESPRITE: i want to go back JADE: i dont think... JADE: that it can be undone :(
Not even in the obvious way. The whole reason we created Jadesprite is because she's borderline indestructible, and therefore might stand a chance against an invincible foe. Her inability to die is the whole point.
Tumblr media
JADESPRITE: why, why would you do this? JADE: we need your help! […] JADE: me and dave and rose and john JADESPRITE: john!!!!!!!!!!! […] JADESPRITE: john, poor john… JADESPRITE: id forgotten about him JADE: what do you mean, how could you forget about john??? JADESPRITE: it was so long ago! i put that sad memory behind me
From Jade’s perspective, her Dream Self died hours ago – but Jadesprite’s body has been dead for years, and that seems to be the frame of reference she was working from in the afterlife.
She's been pulled out of peaceful rest, stuffed into a Sprite, and commanded to do her part as a Player once again, in a session which was traumatic enough for her for the first time around.
It's not just the Green Sun's light that's bothering Jadesprite - this whole situation is hell for her.
JADESPRITE: after we died i looked all over for him but couldnt find him […] JADE: but john didnt die! JADE: i saved him JADE: YOU saved him, dont you remember?
She also seems to think that John died alongside her, even though her last act was to save his life. This is still Dream Jade, after all, and she’s always been a little absent-minded.
112 notes · View notes
azzibuckets · 3 days
Text
For the Love of the Game - [Pazzi | Part 1]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: part 1 of my pazzi fake dating series!! i originally meant for it to be friends to lovers but i realized enemies is easier to write so i changed it up 😶 lmk what u think!
word count: 760
masterlist | part 2
Tumblr media
“So the rumors are true.”
Azzi spun the basketball in her hands, finding comfort in the familiar texture of the Wilson Evo NXT. Here she was, at the Werth Championship Center, in front of banners unfurling the glory of all the NCAA champions that have walked here before her - a much different scene than the small high school gym of St. John’s. With all the different colleges she’d visited in the last year, she’d had a rough time adapting to how different everything was, but the one thing that always stayed the same was this ball in her hands. The reason she was doing all this, she reminded herself.
Azzi turned around. It was almost out of a movie, seeing the three girls that stood facing her. On the left, she recognized as Aaliyah Edwards. Her hair was intertwined in her signature yellow and purple braids, and there was a friendly smile on her face. On the right, Nika Muhl. The Croation phenom with long, straight brunette hair tied up in a ponytail, a neutral expression on her face. And in the middle-
Oh boy. In the middle, there was Paige. Good ol’ Paige Bueckers. Her light blonde hair hung loose, framing her face. Her eyebrows were turned down, her lips pressed into a straight line. Talk about unfriendly.
Azzi swallowed. “Hey,” she spoke uncertainly.
Aaliyah stepped forward, and before Azzi knew it, she was being wrapped up in a bear hug by the 6’3” power forward. “Welcome to UConn!” Aaliyah grinned. “I’m Aaliyah, but all my friends call me Lili.”
Azzi awkwardly patted Aaliyah on the back, her gaze falling to the other two after she stepped back.
“I’m Nika.” The brunette offered Azzi her hand instead of swooping in for a hug like Aaliyah did, but she suddenly smiled warmly, and Azzi felt at ease. “Nika Muhl.”
“Nice to meet all of you. I’m Azzi.”
“We know,” Paige responded curtly, a frosty look in her eyes. Nika nudged Paige, probably reminding her to be nice, and Paige heaved a sigh before sticking out a limp hand. “Bueckers. But you know that.”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes. “God, Paige, don’t be so cocky.”
“I’m not!” The blonde quickly defended. “Azzi and I go way back. She knows me.” She smiled at Azzi then, but it was sharp and wolfish, nothing alike Nika’s welcoming beam from earlier. Azzi preferred Paige’s resting bitch face.
Azzi twirled the basketball she was holding on her finger. “Yep,” she responded dryly. “Paige and I played together for a couple of years. USA basketball.”
Nika’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cool! So you already have a friend here. Nice.” She looked between the two of them with a big smile on her face.
“Not really,” Paige scoffed. This time it was Aaliyah who elbowed her, and Paige winced. “Give us a second, will ya?” Aaliyah smiled brightly at Azzi before she aggressively grabbed Paige’s elbow and pulled her a few steps back.
“What are you doing?” Azzi heard Nika hissed. They were being very conspicuous, especially because they were the only ones in the gym and the three sophomores had retreated literally only two steps back. Azzi could hear every single word they were saying without even having to strain her ears. But apparently they thought they were being sneaky, so Azzi could only awkwardly stand there and listen to them. She now regretted asking to stay in the facility when Geno had finished showing her around. All she’s wanted to do was shoot some hoops in her new home, familiarize herself with the gym before practices officially started, and now she was stuck here dealing with the bitchiness of Paige Bueckers, a girl who was constantly grating on her nerves.
“She’s not visiting,” Aaliyah added on. “She literally committed, so I don’t know why you’re trying to scare her away. She’s on the team now.”
“What do you even have against her?” Nikka questioned.
There was silence for a second, before Paige groaned. “Nothing. Just some tension from a few years ago, I guess.”
Tension that you caused, Azzi thought to herself. When she’d first met the blonde, she’d been fine with her, not particularly liking or disliking her. But after Paige had started being hostile around her, Azzi started to reciprocate the same negative feelings, resulting in the tensions that Paige was speaking of.
The girls returned. Paige’s face was now contorted into an unnatural, almost creepy smile. Azzi was sure Aaliyah had forced Paige to smile and this was the best the blonde could come up with.
“Welcome to UConn!” Paige said, her words dripping with faux excitement and peppiness. She glanced at Nika, who prodded her on with an encouraging smile, as if Paige was a kid that was being forced to apologize to their classmate whose blocks she’d knocked over. Paige motioned for the ball, and Azzi reluctantly tossed it over to her. She examined it, then spun it on her finger, copying what Azzi did earlier. “UConn.” She gestured at the banners, at the gleaming trophies lining the walls. “The basketball capital of the world.”
65 notes · View notes
Note
I really liked reading your thoughts on hypmic and gender roles!! I would like to add some things about hypmic & female characters :]
I like the way Otome is meant to have a delicate (?) image, but it doesn't make her weak (I remember when her solo Just do it released and people talked about how before they had this idea that Otome was more like ruler who gives orders to her soldiers in the background, but after the song it was clear that Otome is actually in the front lines, leading her army)
And Ichijiku, who is sometimes cruel, with this strong image, this is framed not as a good thing, but a front she puts up to cope with her suffering (not that it's wrong for a woman to have traits usually associated with masculinity, but it's bad when you are doing it for the sake of looking "stronger", someone is not weaker for being feminine, as it seems to be something she internalized for herself/she doesn't seem to project that into others so it's just an unhealthy coping mechanism that hurts only herself), we can see from the drama tracks that before traumatic events her voice was much more high pitched (her natural one), and now she uses this lower, stronger tone, to not be perceived as weak (which I think kinda parallels Ramuda speaking in a higher pitch when his natural tone is lower). Basically a lot of the times when trying to write strong women, authors will take away their feminity from the idea that "you need to be masculine to be strong", that wouldn't apply to any of our female cast, even to Ichijiku who does put up a front to not be seem as weak, this is not a good thing & she still has hobbies/likes things usually associated with feminity (but as an exemple of masculine women also being treated well, we have Asunaro Bojo, she is a tomboy but that's not bad at all!!! Good for her, and there is also Iris from rhyme anima, that I could say is not particularly fem??? Also good for her and her cool motorbike)
And Honobono, I think it's really interesting that, in a society that demonizes feminity, she uses that on her favor, her feminity being her main weapon. Also I like her existence as a contraposition to Hypmic's main themes about bonds/relying on others, the power of words to resolve conflict as an alternative to violence / she wants to break bonds, uses her words as a way to do that, showing how powerful words can be when used for evil
As for them making bad decisions, I agree there were times when it was for the sake of plot moving, I also think some decisions are due to them being flawed characters, just like the rest of the cast is (Otome is impulsive and has a very "now or never" mindset, but so does Dice, Ichijiku blindly follows Otome even on her worst decisions, but that's because of her trauma and it's something she has to work on changing, etc)
And I do think a shifting is happening btw them being antagonistic side characters to them being integrated as part of the main cast in recent times!! That being said I'm very excited for the upcoming stage play focused on the girls only & with 2 new original women, I will love to see what they have ready for them
Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts!
I totally agree with your opinion about Otome. Her "coldness" (like, personality-wise) is a good contrast to Ichijiku's hot temper, but neither are in any way weak or frail. And as you point out with Ichijku, this too seems like her way of pushing away her own feelings in order to process them better. (True gender equality is everyone failing to process emotions in a healthy way? lol)
I also get what you mean about Ichijiku and writing strong female characters. (I'm immediately reminded of this comic. In terms of concept art, Ichijiku could fit right in with them lol.) She's an interesting example of a trope I see a lot. In Japanese, it feels like "cute" (可愛い) and "beautiful" (綺麗) exist as two opposite ends of a spectrum, where the latter is associated with maturity and elegance and the former with youth and innocence. Fictional taller girls or girls with more developed bodies often lament that they're pushed into the "beautiful" role even when they identify more strongly with being "cute." On the flipside, shorter girls sometimes wish that they could be taken more seriously if they were closer to the "beautiful" side of the spectrum. Ichijiku is pretty firmly in the "beautiful" camp but seems to desire "cuteness" (see how she reacts to tea parties with Nemu, who is more stereotypically "cute", and cultivates a hairbow collection). Yet she reacts with embarrassment when anything "cute" is brought up, likely because she recognizes she won't be viewed with as much authority if she presents herself in a "cute" fashion. That ties into what you're talking about with the pitch of her voice and her desire to appear strong. It's funny how there are expected societal roles ("cute"/"beautiful") nested within larger expected societal roles (womanhood). If all the female characters were like Ichijku, I'd be a lot more "eh :/" about Hypmic, but as you say, there's a wide variety of presentations, none of which are presented as "weaker" or more invalid. Like Nemu--she's definitely a "cute" character but is written to have an enormous amount of emotional strength following her decision to join Chuuouku. This suggests, then, that Ichijiku is incorrect in thinking she can't be strong and "cute." Likewise, the female characters as a whole can be strong and feminine or strong and more masculine-presenting. It'd be fun to see more female characters who lean into the latter (I'm not going to pretend that Hypmic is bursting with canonical masc female characters) but that seems a bit more progressive than Hypmic is willing to go. If it's still at the stage of "femininity != bad"... I'll take what I can get, haha.
I love everything you said about Honobono!
And I also agree that some flawed decisions Otome and Ichijiku make are due to them being ordinary, flawed individuals. Which is a good, humanizing writing choice! When I said that in the original post, I was referring to the sort of decisions that exist purely to set up the main conceit of Hypmic. The "Hmm yes I think I shall spend our man!tax dollars on constructing a huge, expensive stadium as a trial run for a future government-sponsored sport. Let's kidnap two children in order to convince one of the trial participants to rap against his friend, which is the most effective way to prevent a coup" kind of decisions. Team Rocket-ass decisions. I'm not knocking this concept as a whole, because goofy villainy and contrived plots can be fun. Even in semi-serious works, there can still be a place for contrived plot nonsense; the audience is capable of suspending disbelief when the silliness is not the main object in focus. But when we're later asked to examine some of Otome's decisions and thought processes in a more realistic and sympathetic light, I have trouble reconciling the two concepts in my head. In my opinion, Otome can either be the shadowy figure behind the Team Rocket desk or a real person with complex thoughts and feelings, but asking her to be both is not a great writing choice.
Finally, I can't wait for the stage plays either. I hope I get a chance to check them out! The Hypstages are always super, super fun.
25 notes · View notes
rikigai · 2 hours
Text
make up — nishimura riki
pairing: boyfriend!riki x afab!reader
genre(s): angst, suggestive
content/warnings: cursing, fights, toxicity, making out, hickeys, reader is on riki’s lap at one point
word count: 1.3k
author's note: this has been rotting in my drafts unfinished but i finally got the motivation to finish it so here u go hshshsh. pleasee tell me if i’ve missed any warnings. hope u guys like it (not proofread as always)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you sunk into the mattress that was positioned right be the window, wiping your tears off your face w the cotton sleeves that covered your hands. you had finally stopped crying after getting into a heated argument with your boyfriend, riki. 
he walked out of the door not too long ago as you found yourself alone in his room. you huddle up into a ball, hugging your legs as you fell onto the bed sideways. you think of the words that had come out of riki’s mouth. you think of the things you’ve done to deserve all these bullets being shot at you, and by that, you meant the words that riki’s mouth had let go. 
were you not enough? did you not deserve his love? did you not deserve him at all?
every time you’d come around lately, things would just end in a mess. you two fight so frequently, people would think you had eventually gotten used to it, but no. every fight still hurt as much as the last one and the one before that, as well as the one before the one before that. sometimes you wonder if things would work out in the end because somehow it felt as if you two would just make up for the reason of getting it over with. nothing would change after the fight, which was clearly the problem. riki would act the same way, you too. 
you lay there, staying still on the bed, hearing the clock tick and how loud the silence had gotten ever since riki had left the room. you get up on your feet and walk towards the door. ‘i think it’s best if i just left. everything is pointless’ you thought to yourself, turning the door knob over and opening the door. 
the lights in the living room were dimmed down, with only the tv on. riki sat on the couch with his eyes buried into the palms of his hand, elbows rested onto his knees. his head turned to the direction of the doorframe which revealed your silhouette, slowly making it’s way to the main door, past the kitchen. he quickly stood up and turned to the area you were headed, seeing that you were leaving. 
“where the fuck do you think you’re going?” riki said with a disgruntled, low voice. you stopped walking but didn’t answer. you could feel the tears forming in your eyes that painfully stung. you continued to walk, ignoring the fact that your ‘boyfriend’ wasn’t pleased to see you leaving, or the fact that he had asked you a question. 
riki asked again. “where the FUCK do you think you’re GOING?” you blinked, making the tears stream down your face. you turned towards him, seeing his tall frame standing there. “i’m talking to you, bitch. answer m-“ he said, looking into your direction. you cut him off, finally bursting out w frustration “CAN’T YOU SEE?? I’M FUCKING LEAVING.” “YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT? CAN YOU?” riki snapped back at you, approaching you slowly. “I THOUGHT YOU DIDN’T WANT ME HERE? DID YOU JUST INVITE ME TO ARGUE? C’MON THIS BULLSHIT YOU PULL HAPPENS EVERY TIME I COME OVE-“ you said in anger. “ME? SO I COME UP WITH WHATEVER MESS THIS IS? THIS SHIT ONLY HAPPENS WHEN YOU’RE AROUND.” he responded, now standing right in front of you. you looked up at him to see the tears that had flooded his eyes, and he saw how much you were crying too. “listen, riki. i don’t think i can do this anymore” you say with a shaky voice as you wiped your face with the sleeves drenched in tears once again. 
“i don’t think i’m the girl you’re looking for. unless the girl you’re looking for is someone you’d want to fight with every single fucking time. this isn’t gonna work out.” you added, looking straight at his eyes. he couldn’t do anything but to stare right back at you. what has he done? what kind of thoughts and words had slipped out of his mind for it to have turned out like this?
“and whatever *this* is, is something i don’t want, okay.” you said, breaking the painful truth to riki. “wh-what do you mean?” he asked as his eyes grew with the feeling of confusion, fear, and worry rushing through his veins. “come over, fight, make up, that’s everyday. i don’t need to say anything more, basically sums it up for you.” you reply, slowly backing up as you plan on walking out any second now. 
the two of you stand there in silence when you decide to finally exit. you turn and start walking towards the main door when you feel a tug coming from behind, stopping you from walking any further. “no. please. you can’t leave. it’s just-“ riki says softly. “it’s just what? is it just that i’m not enough for you? is it just that i’m not someone worth your while? spit it out, nishimura. tell me.” you say, facing him again. “no, YOU tell ME. what is it you want? because somehow-“ he says before you butt in. “i want somebody who doesn’t fucking argue with everything i say, firstly?? and somebody who LOVES me. yea. keyword is love, if that was hard for you to understand” you reply, ending in a sarcastic tone. “then i can be that body, y/n” he says, drawing his face and body closer to yours, placing his hand on your waist.
"if you want love, we gon' make it" he says before pulling you in. your lips meet with his as riki caresses your cheek. the kiss had grew heated. you could feel his anger, disheartenment, and worry through the kiss he had started. your hands found its way onto his broad shoulders as the two of you back up into the living room, not breaking the kiss. riki collapses onto the sofa with you on top of him. you quickly take your thick sweater off, revealing the tiny tank top you had sitting underneath. the feeling of riki’s arms on your bare skin sent shivers down your spine. you two were obviously mad about what had happened earlier, but you both also couldn’t resist each other’s touch.
riki let go off the kiss and started to leave kisses on you everywhere.
“i’m” a peck on the cheek
“so” a kiss on the neck
“sorry, y/n” he says before sucking onto the sensitive skin right above your collarbone. his lips pulled away from you. his eyes lingered upon the mark he had left on you.
the resentment in the atmosphere remained there as you responded “i fucking hate you, ri-“ before he cut you off, smashing his lips back onto yours. you craved the feeling of his skin, his lips, his hands all over you. grabbing one of his hands that rested on his stomach as he kissed you, you grab it, setting it on your hips. riki gripped onto your hips, moving you further up his lap. he breaks the kiss to look into your eyes as he said “if you fucking hate me, then how could you want me this bad? huh?” staring you up and down, seeing how much of a mess you were for him. you let out a whine as you had gotten impatient. “p-please, riki” you say, planting hickeys along his jaw and down along his neck with your hands resting on his toned. it drove him insane. you sucked on his soft skin with the thoughts of the fight earlier swirling around in your head. groans escaped his lips as his grip on you tightened.
“holy shit, y/n. we’re supposed to be talking this out-“
“fuck it. we can kiss it out instead.”
24 notes · View notes
aceofwhump · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Good Omens 2x06
446 notes · View notes
iicarused · 3 months
Text
##my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
y!vox x ex!reader / alastor x reader also because he stole vox’s bitch if you squint
part ii
synopsis: from this ask / reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life)
beware: DARK THEMES / heavy yandere aspects, obsession (vox’s end), territorial aspects, manipulation, implications of a toxic relationship / let me know if i missed anything!
Tumblr media
he’s been watching you. what, did you think you could just leave? no, that will not do for him! you’re his wife, his lover, his other half that he cannot live without! you brought him fame and so much fortune with just your pretty face.
through the camera of your phone, the security cameras that litter hell, he’s been keeping an eye on you. however, you know that.
after a year of maintaining a relationship with one of hells overlords, you finally snapped and broke it off. the press were eating it right up. “y/n, can you tell us why you and vox are no more?” “y/n, who broke it off first?” “y/n, is there a chance you’ll both get together again?” you laughed at the last question
there was only one place in all of hell to hide — a place where no electronic bothered to exist — hazbin hotel
you came tired. hair a mess and a fluffed robe over your shoulders. “i’m begging of you, please take me in, i prefer learning some shit redemption arc than to deal with a crazy ex.” you cried. of course charlie said yes.
since then, vox has been searching for you:
“i swear to FUCK — !! “ vox heaved. when valentino walked in, the tv host seemed to pause on his theatrics. “she couldn’t have gone far.”
“face it, at this rate she’s done with you.” the moth insisted while getting comfortable on the couch.
but those words didn’t sit right with vox. the multiple screens in front of him flicked through different channels, eager just to find a clue of your whereabouts.
to say vox was pissed when finding out where you were was an understatement. a camera zooming in on the sight of you having some fresh air — right outside that stupid hotel
picking at a daisy, someone else came into the frame. alastor knelt to your side with a cup of tea, or so he assumed, sitting down next to you while basking underneath the stars. vox couldn’t hear any audio since the radio demon seemed to mess up the frequency, but he could see that familiar smile that pulled at your lips
you used to smile at him just like that
in less than a day, vox came straight to the hotel. demanding for you to come out. come on home! you both can work through it! this is just another bump in the road, there’s no need to hide!
from the balcony, your gaze settles on vox down below. you almost feel sorrowful and your heart begins to ache. sometimes you miss him, and sometimes you miss the comfort of his arms. he was a hurricane just as he was a summers day, and that was the man you fell in love with. you knew his love was sick, but that was expected from demons… right? not his though, it was far too gone to be considered a daydream.
“doll, we were meant to be!” vox pleaded, his gaze never leaving yours.
you never answered to his pleas.
“it’s that fucking radio demon, right!?” vox accused. here comes a tantrum.
you turned to face away.
“please, we were going to be overlords — together!” back to broken promises you were unsure if it were true.
a yandere is someone who is in love with you, and that’s a dream come true for anyone who wishes for love. but god, do you wish it wasn’t you.
vox never stopped sending gifts to the hotel after that. nor has he stopped coming by to the building just to try and convince you to leave. his heart is aching, and only you are his medicine.
5K notes · View notes
sgrplumditz · 4 months
Text
You had his baby and he didn't know.
She sat with the 3-month-old baby girl. Every time she looked at her she saw His eyes, the eyes of the father of her child that had no idea she existed. A perfect blend of the two, but like her father the most recognizable feature was her eyes. Carrying her mother's soft and feminine features, while having her father's gaze.
She was standing in the kitchen of her two-bedroom apartment preparing to pump her full, plump breasts as her daughter slept soundly in a playpen nearby. Thinking of her daughter had become second nature to her, which meant that her thoughts only revolved around her daughter from the moment she found out she was pregnant. Although she was struggling as a single mother, she did not hold any resentment toward Simon. After all, he had no idea their daughter existed.
Simon was forced to leave for his work responsibilities. He knew he would be gone for a long time, it was a no-brainer that they would go their own separate paths. When her thoughts were not consumed by her daughter they were consumed by Him, she craved the closure, or support, or comfort that she knew he could bring her.
Interrupted. Her thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on the door. Her protective nature took over as she walked to the front door while holding a bottle in her right hand. Her heart sank the moment she looked through the peephole. "What is He doing here?" she thought before slowly swinging the door open.
His gaze immediately dropped to the pink bottle in her hand, "Why didn't you tell me?" he spoke, his voice was soft, yet it still held a slight tone of hostility. His accent was prominent, something she noticed would happen whenever he was emotional. His eyes looked drained, tired, and confused, but physically he looked as good as ever. His tall stature and wide frame cast a shadow over her significantly smaller build.
"Tell you what?" she said as her face flushed red and her heart pounded in her ears. Her ears also burning.
Simon walked into her apartment closing the door behind him, "You have never been a good liar". There it was, the exact gaze she saw in her daughter staring back at her in His body. That same gaze turned to his sleeping daughter in the pink playpen that was littered with stuffed animals and pink accents.
She couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling. Anger, frustration, joy, sadness -- it was evident that he was on a roller coaster.
"Why didn't you tell me?", he sighed running his hand through his thick blonde hair. She was stunned, but she didn't know if it was because he actually showed up, or if she was stunned because this was their first time standing in a room together as a family. "Who told you?" her voice came out soft, timid almost.
"Price, but that is beside the matter" he paused to take in the sight of his daughter. "Why didn't you contact me? I gave you my cell for emergencies... th-this is an appropriate reason to contact me." he now sounded frustrated with her. She was gripping the bottle in her hand still, unable to relax and let it go. Was he mad?
He wasn't. He approached her and gently took the bottle out of her hand -- he knew her better than anyone meaning that he knew that she reacted poorly to confrontation. "You're okay, Love" he spoke gently as he held her small hands in his, "Talk to me, please." he pleaded as he guided them to the nearby couch, making her take a seat. There was new sense of gentleness when he spoke. The shift came naturally to him as now he was fixated on protecting the mother of his child in all aspects. His thumbs massaged her wrists gently while he waited for her to find her words. Simon has always been patient, a quality she loved about him.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only audible noise coming from the cooing sounds of their daughter. "Whenever you're ready, Love. I'm here to stay," he said with his warm hands still on her.
4K notes · View notes
hor3nee · 4 months
Text
• Life •
Tumblr media
Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.
Tumblr media
CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Sukuna x Reader
AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic
Tumblr media
   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.
And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.
To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.
The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.
Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.
Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.
Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.
"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.
"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.
"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.
"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.
Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.
Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.
But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.
"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.
"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.
"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.
That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.
His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.
"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.
3K notes · View notes
suncoved · 4 months
Text
WHAT THE BUZZ! — RAFE CAMERON (smut 18+, mdni.)
pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: rafe returns home with a fresh new haircut, and you don't know whether to be mad... or turned on
warnings: smut 18+, mdni. fingering, oral.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
it was a peaceful saturday afternoon in the outerbanks. the sun slowly setting over the horizon as it emitted a soft golden orange hue to the sky from your window.
you quickly flipped over the next page of your magazine, feeling the glossy pages between your fingertips.
you had to admit you really hadn't done much today. besides going out for lunch with your boyfriend before he dropped you off at your house because he was meeting up with his friend barry for the afternoon.
that gave you an ample amount of time to paint your toes a bright white and to change your bed sheets to your favourite cream set with little pink roses decorating the fabric.
now you were lying on your bed, clad in a matching pyjama and fluffy light pink socks, kicking your legs as you read a magazine filled with unnecessary celebrity gossip lying on your stomach.
rafe was due to be at yours any minute, hopefully arriving with his promise of ice cream for dinner.
you didn't make any attempt to move as you heard your front door lock click and the sound of heavy footsteps making their way towards your room.
you bit your lip in anticipation, hearing the sound of rafe making his way to the front of your open bedroom door and his body leaning up against the door frame.
you smiled and you rolled your body over, making your way to sit at the edge of your bed.
though, instead of your boyfriend standing at your door, there was a man. seemingly resembling your boyfriend.
the same clothes, the same bright smile, the same strong arms with veins running down to his hands, but with... a buzzcut??
"rafe! what did you do!" you jump up from your place on your bed, padding your feet over to your boyfriend. you reach your perfectly manicured hand up to his usually soft, golden mop of hair, only to feel spikiness under your fingers.
"what? don't like it baby?" he asked, painting a mocking pout on his face as he brought his hands to the sides on your waist. "no-no. i-i i like it, its just.. different" he sighed, standing back so you could get a better look at the man in front of you.
his bone structure could probably fit any haircut he had, this one being no exception. he was utterly beautiful.
and as much as you are going to mourn the loss of carding your fingers through his soft locks, you could get used to how this new haircut made him look. which was even hotter, in your humble opinion.
"b-but. how am i going to play with your hair?" he raised his brow at your phrasing of what he knew you meant was 'how am i going to tug on your hair as you're eating me out'
"hair grows, pretty girl. but you and i both know that you playing with my hair is not your only problem with this" rafe stated smirking, the cold metal of his ring making contact with the bottom on your thigh as he hoisted you up so your legs were straddling his waist.
you squealed at his movements, draping your hands over his shoulders and he carried you over to your bed, dropping you softly where your head hit the pillows.
"why didn't you tell me you were getting your haircut?" you asked, changing the subject as rafe planted kisses down your neck.
"barry did it, said it would be fun to see your reaction." he murmured, not lifting his head up from your neck. "you shaved your hair to get my reaction, rafe!" you scolded, playfully pushing his head away from you.
"kinda, and my hair kept getting in my eyes, disrupted me from eating my meals" he said nonchalantly as he swiftly pulled your red heart-decorated cream colored shorts down your soft legs.
"what do you mean?" you asked, staring down at him through your lashes as goosebumps appeared all over the skin of your thighs from his fleeting touches as he pulled your white lacy panties off slowly.
"you, baby." he states simply, running one slender finger through your wet folds. you hissed at his touch, lulling your head to the side as you rested on your plush bunny lying on your bed, discreetly turning it over so it was facing the covers and not witnessing your lewd acts.
he spread your thighs further apart, kneading the skin as he licked a long strip across your slit, making you jolt.
"it's ok baby" he said softly, grabbing your hand for you to have something to hold onto as he watched you grasp the air near his head, not feeling the normal soft locs you were used to due to his recent haircut.
he began to drape your legs over his shoulders, pushing them against your chest as you whimpered, looking at you sternly as he used his large biceps to keep you pinned down.
he bowed his head down, the sound of him spitting offensively making its way to your ears as he took his finger and spread his salvia all over your pussy.
he shushed condescendingly and he entered his first finger into you, watching closely as it disappeared in you. "good girl, you're doin' so good for me yea?"
you nodded quickly at his question, feeling him kiss your clit once before diving in and moving his tongue all around your pussy. he pumped his finger in and out and he collected all your juices, eating you out like a starved man.
"god i love this pussy, so good to me" rafe says to himself, pushing you down further as he pushes another finger into you, making you squirm.
the coil in the bottom of your tummy tightens, getting closer and closer to exploding as he keeps sucking on your clit. your legs shake over his shoulders, making him to chuckle against you, vibrations pulsating through you from his actions.
your eyes squeezed your eyes shut, bringing your hands up to his biceps and pushing your acrylics so hard into him they were sure to leave marks, but he didn't care.
"you gonna cum for me baby?" he asked looking up at you, his lips puffy and slick with your juices.
you bit your now chapped lips as you nodded eagerly, his fingers how speeding up inside of you.
"o-oh my god rafe" you moaned, trying to pull away from him subconsciously but his arms not letting you move an inch. "c'mon sweet girl, give it to me"
your eyes rolled back and you came, his fingers and tongue working you through your orgasm as you squealed, thankful your parents weren't home for the evening.
"so, so sweet. love the taste of this pussy" rafe sighed, not making a move to stop after you had came, causing fat tears to roll down your cheeks from overstimulation.
"how many more do you think you can give me ma?"
5K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 4 months
Text
Bathtime w/ Fuckbuddy Satoru Gojo <3
Tumblr media
contains: fem reader, reader is a teacher at Jujutsu High, clit play, mutual pining, teasing, so much dirty talk, possessive!Satoru if u squint
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"Ahhhh...." You moaned quietly into the small space of your bathroom as the soreness from your limbs was washed away by the borderline scolding hot water that swallowed up your body. The bubbles tickled your chin as you sunk deeper, letting the water cover your body up to your neck so you appeared to be a head floating in the bath.
Gojo had been out on a mission, which meant you were in charge of teaching his students and overseeing their sparing. Only you had to get hands-on with them several times and ended up moving your body in ways you haven't moved since you were in high school. 
You were a sorcerer and you trained frequently, but in the weeks before training his students, curses had been quiet, which meant fewer missions and less moving your body. So you stayed inside most days to complete paperwork, ignoring the training you should've been doing to stay agile and keep your bones loose during the dry spell of curse appearances--and boy did it show.
Not in your performance, but in your bones. You felt your muscles straining and burning when you pulled off some showy move for the students as you avoided one of their hits. The day felt like it was dragging on forever, and each time one of his precious students asked if you would spar with them, you accepted because your ego was too big to decline because of a little soreness. 
You had plenty of time to regret it afterwards though as you lay on your floor and stretched your body, cursing at Gojo over the phone for having such energetic students. He laughed and apologized, though he didnt seem very sorry to hear you groaning and moaning in pain through the phone. All of your moans sounded the same to him, pervert. Although he did promise to make it up to you when he came home from his mission in a few days, so you let him off the hook. 
Though you were irritated, as you shut your eyes and let the Epsom salt soak into your tired body, letting the hot water creep into your skin, you couldn't find yourself to be all that mad. This felt so good, you hadn't relaxed like this in a while. You silently prayed to someone that the dry spell of curse sightings would keep up so you could relax like this more often, even though you knew that was wishful thinking. 
You let the hot water wash all of the thoughts from your head, and it must've taken some of your consciousness with it because you failed to hear the dull bang of your front door opening, followed by footsteps that got closer and closer to the outside of your bathroom door. Your entire body jolted forward when you snapped back into reality fully at the sound of the bathroom door creaking open.
The adrenaline and fear from your fight or flight response didnt last long when the familiar feeling of Gojo's cursed energy flooded into your body, relaxing you almost instantly. "Oh? Did I scare you?" Gojo giggled as he pushed the door open entirely, his long frame leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as he watched you from under his blindfold.
 The bubbles had covered your chest in a way that almost looked like someone had placed them there on purpose. They came up to just above your nipples, covering the part of you Gojo wanted to see most. The rest of the suds stuck to the skin of your breasts, slowly slipping downwards at a snail's pace. If you kept your body sitting up like you were for long enough, the bubbles would surely run off your tits and reveal your pretty nipples to Gojo's eyes. 
The water still sloshed around your body from your sudden movements before you sighed and leaned back against the tub, letting the water absorb you into it once more. "Fuck, Satoru... what are you doing here? I thought you were going to be gone for another week?" You asked, trying to keep the longing out of your tone as you spoke to him, not wanting him to know you missed him as much as you did, his ego didn't need that. 
"Aww did someone miss me?" Gojo asked, tilting his head at you. "I missed you too, that's why I used you as motivation to exercise that curse as quickly as possible so I could come to you~" The teasing and playfulness in his voice both irritated and aroused you. You scoffed, turning your head away from him to stare at the very interesting blank wall of the shower as you felt a blush creep onto your face.
"Get in and close the door or leave, you're letting all the hot air out." You bit, ignoring his teasing words as you felt goosebumps tickle your arms from under your skin. "Ohhh~ Is that an invitation?" Gojo cooed, uncrossing his arms as he kicked the door shut behind him, a large hand reaching behind his head to pull off his blindfold, his beautiful blue eyes being revealed from underneath.
You kept your face unreadable as you looked back at Gojo, your greedy eyes taking in the way his arms bulged as the jacket slid off his arms, falling to the floor. It must've been hot where he was sent on the mission because instead of the signature white long-sleeve button-up shirt he usually wore under his jacket, his body was adorned in a tight black muscle shirt. One that made your mouth water with how little it left to the imagination.
"Hey, my eyes are up here. You're making me embarrassed, y'know~" Gojo whined, faux pouting as he crossed his arms over his body and pulled up the bottom of his shirt before slowly sliding it up his body, giving you a show as each row of his insanely defined abs was revealed to you. Satoru grinned at you when he pulled the shirt over his head, his hair looking ruffled and fluffy from his head being squeezed through such a tight opening. Cute.
"Don't say that like you don't stare at me shamelessly when I take off my clothes in front of you." You retort, feeling your body start to react to the show he was putting on for you. "I can't help it, you get so squirmy when I watch you, it's adorable," Gojo responded, his hands making quick work of his belt as he kept his piercing eyes on yours while he did so.
Your lip curled up slightly in embarrassment at his words. How was he able to just say stuff like that? "You touchin' yourself under there?" Gojo asked, his voice keeping the teasing tone but with the addition of something deeper now. Your jaw dropped as you stared at him incredulously, a blush spreading across your face. "Y-you-" Briefly looking down you noticed the bulge that had already formed in his pants.
He could see nothing but your head floating atop the bubbles, how was he already hard? "You have such a dirty mouth Satoru." You responded, shaking your head at him. He giggled as he finally pulled his pants and boxers off his heels, his hard cock standing at full attention, the delicious curve made it point up towards his belly. You did your best to avert your eyes, looking back at the blank wall of the shower as he got closer.
"Heh~ You're so easy to tease." He teased. "Scoot forward, make some room for me, princess." Your heart was beating out of your chest. It had only been a week and a half since Gojo had left on his mission, but your body had missed him so badly. Not a second went by that you didnt crave Satoru's presence in some way, so now that he was actually here after ten days of pining, your body didn't know what to do with all the feelings you were experiencing.
Wordlessly, you leaned forward and allowed Gojo to slide into the bath behind you. He hissed when he stuck his first foot in the bath behind your body. "Are you a masochist?? Why is the water so hot??" Gojo complained, hissing and whining under his breath after each inch of skin he sunk into the water.
His childishness eased some of the tension and embarrassment you were feeling. You smiled to yourself as he situated himself deeper into the bath, his thighs spreading around your body. "Your students pushed me to my limits, I don't think there's a muscle in my body that isn't sore." You sighed. Gojo hummed in awknowledgement as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you back agaisnt him, your back flush to his chest--which felt so much wider than you remember. 
You tried to ignore the very prominent feeling of Gojo's hard cock poking your lower back as you relaxed against him, your eyes taking in his usual porcelain skin turning red on the tops of his knees as they poked out from under the water, burned from the heat of the water. "Is your body more sensitive to heat because of your infinity? Or are you just a bitch?" You asked, staring blankly at the shower wall in front of you.
Gojo tsked at your words, his arms squeezing tighter around your body. "You could've said that last part nicer. I'm sensitive." He replied, pouting as he placed his chin on your head, staring at the same wall you were. You laughed softly, relaxing even further against him "I've always been sensitive to extreme temperatures, but I think anyone besides you would agree with me when I say this bath is just too hot."
You stayed quiet for a few seconds before you spoke again, "I think you're just a bitch." You said teasingly, smiling to yourself. Gojo pulled his head back from resting on the top of your head and looked down at your smaller frame against his as he pouted. He quickly got distracted though, forgetting your words as his eyes traced over the slope of your shoulders, the curve of your neck, and the valley between your breasts, glistening from the water.
Satoru licked his lips when an idea suddenly popped into his head. Releasing the hold he had on your body, he placed one of his hands right under your tit, the other slowly sliding down the front of your body. On instinct, you looked down, as if you could see his hands working on your body under the water. His large hand acted like it creating a path to your cunt, but right when he got to your pelvis, he changed direction and rubbed his hand down your thigh before sliding it back up, repeating that action.
"You're so mean to me sometimes..." He pouted, the hand he had holding your body against him slipping up to cup your breast, his large hand practically engulfing the entire thing as he slowly massaged it. "Satoru..." You whispered, your head pressing back against his chest. "I'm nothing but nice to you, y'know?" He continued, his hand alternating between pinching your nipple with his fingers and rubbing your entire tit in his palm.
You sighed as he touched you, your body melting under his touch. "But even though you're a bully..." Satoru's hand slid back up to your pelvis, he rubbed the area of skin right above your clit with his fingers, pressing down against the skin slowly, the same as he did when he fucked you and was trying to feel himself thrust inside you. You didn't even realize that your legs were spreading on instinct, making room for him to touch you.
You gasped quietly as you waited for him to touch you. The throbbing between your thighs was now pulsing rapidly with your need for relief the longer he teased you. "...I still want to make you feel good." He finished, his fingers releasing the pressure on your pelvis as they slid down to your pussy, his fingers finding your clit with ease as he started rubbing slow, teasing circles against it.
"Does that make me a pushover?" He whispered hotly against your ear as you gasped in a breath at the sudden striking pleasure. "Fuck-" You gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as he played with your little clit expertly, his other hand rubbing his index finger in circles around your areola, much the same pace as the one on your clit. "Hm? Does it baby?" Gojo asked, his greedy mouth sucking the shell of your ear into his mouth, his tongue teasing it as his lips suctioned around it, the sensation sending goosebumps down your body.
"I-I don't know." You whined, your brain not even registering what he was saying to you as he pleasured your body. He truly knew your body like the back of his hand, he knew each and every spot that had you whining and crying for him. "You don't know?" He repeated, leaving hot kisses against your ear as he sped up the circles on your clit, adding slightly more pressure at the same time.
"You aren't listening huh? That's so mean princess. I'm going out of my way to make you feel good even after you've bullied me, and you can't even listen to me?" He cooed, making his voice higher as he teased you. His index finger and thumb pinched around the hard bud of your nipple as he rolled it between his fingers. You squirmed against his body, your legs jerking every so often causing the water to slosh around you.
Your hand gripped Gojo's wrist which was working vehemently on your pussy, making jolts of electricity shock through your body. "S-Satoru... satoru that feels good." You whined, your hair tickling his skin as your head rubbed on his chest. Gojo smiled, switching his hand to massage your other breast. "You can't think of anything other than how good you feel, huh?" He asked, kissing the spot right behind your ear.
His cock was twitching against your back after each whine and moan you released. He was so grateful you were pressed so tightly against him, your squirming giving his cock significant release as your lower back rubbed all over him. "M-mhmm-" You responded, pressing your lips together as you opened your legs wider for him. 
Gojo pressed kisses all over your neck and ear as he continued rubbing his fingers over your sensitive little bud, working you higher and higher toward your orgasm. "You're so soft. I missed you against me like this. I love holding you." Gojo whispered, his words too intimate for a fuckbudy to say, making you blush with embarrassment. "M-missed you too." You respond honestly, putting your pride aside. "You make me feel so good Satoru.." you praised, your words going straight to his cock.
"Yeah? I touch you so much better than you touch yourself huh?" He asked, his fingers quickening with his own excitement. "Y-yeah." You whine the word dragging out from between your lips. "I'm the only one who makes you feel this good, huh?" Satoru whispered, practically whining into your ear as he rutted his hips against your back. 
You groaned in response, feeling yourself almost about to tip over the edge. His hand on your tit massaged harder as he humped against you faster, the water sloshing around your body, spilling onto the floor. "Say it baby, need you to say it," Gojo begged, increasing the pressure on your clit, making your legs jerk together, trying to close around his hand when you felt the hot coil of your release wind up impossibly tighter.
"O-only you Satoru only you. F-fuck fuck I'm cumming-" Your smaller hand tightens around his wrist as you hold onto him for dear life as your orgasm wracks through your body. Satoru chases you, keeping your body pressed to his when you jerk forward, your body trying to fold in on itself when the intensity of your high. "Oh good fucking girl, take it, baby, that's it, cum for me." Gojo groaned against your ear, his hand squeezing your tit as wave after wave of your orgasm washed over you.
Satoru's cock dripped pre-cum into the water when you came, his own arousal increasing tenfold as he watched you cum. You relaxed back against his chest when you came down from your high, your head falling limply on his chest as you gasped softly, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm. "That looked like it felt so good baby, good job." He praised, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
Your face was flushed red with your arousal as you closed your eyes when you felt his lips touch you. "Thank you, Satoru. I really needed that." You said, rubbing your thumb on his wrist that had started caressing the spot where your thigh and hip meet. He hummed, kissing your head once more as he acknowledged your words, the hand on your tit still slowly massaging it in circles.
"Would you look at that..." Satoru spoke, making you turn your head to look up at him, wondering what he was looking at. He smirked down at you when he got a view of your face, his eyes making contact with your own. "The water is still hot." His smirk grew when you tsked and looked away from him, the white-haired man bursting into a fit of giggles as he wrapped his arms around your body. 
4K notes · View notes
gutsby · 2 months
Text
Abstaining Game
Tumblr media
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.
Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.
Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’
Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)
Tumblr media
October 26, 2024
Dear Joel,
Roses are red,
We’re a couple of sluts,
Abstinence camp is awful,
I miss you rearranging my guts.
You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.
“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”
You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.
Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.
It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.
What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.
Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.
He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.
That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.
Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.
Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:
Dear Tommy,
Fuck you, you fucking fuck.
Sincerely,
Joel
You grinned again just thinking about it.
If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.
For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?
Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.
The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.
You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.
Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:
“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”
The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.
Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.
Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.
“On your feet, skank.”
You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.
Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.
“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.
“How kind.”
“Yeah? Certain death?”
“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.
Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.
“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.
“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”
“Oh?”
Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.
“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.
Stupidly.
“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”
That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.
“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.
“Not my brother,” you hissed.
“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.
“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”
Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.
“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.
“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.
“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.
Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.
Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.
“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”
You had to stifle a laugh.
“I am not.”
“Then explain, Cersei!”
Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.
“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.
“Uh-huh.”
“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”
“Dangerous combo.”
“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”
“Right.”
“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”
Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:
“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”
“Oh shit.”
“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”
“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”
“As you should.”
“—hold that breath in right there—”
“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”
This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.
“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.
“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”
You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.
“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”
Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:
“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”
You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,
“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”
You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,
“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”
You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.
Then you felt hands.
Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.
You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.
“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.
Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?
About damn time.
Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.
“Fucker,” you hissed.
Fucker said nothing.
Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.
“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”
You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.
In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.
“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”
A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.
“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.
Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.
“Pack your shit.”
Dude.
You spun on your heels.
“DUDE!”
Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.
It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.
“Sweetheart—”
He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.
The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?
You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.
His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.
“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”
You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.
“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”
Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.
“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”
He was seriously trying to break you out?
You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.
“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.
What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.
Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.
“Joel?” You raised a brow.
“Mm?”
The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.
His gaze was alarmingly sedate.
“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”
“Just a quickie, Miller—”
“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”
The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.
Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.
It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.
“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”
Shit.
Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.
“Joel—”
“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”
Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.
But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.
“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.
“Joel, I just—”
“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”
The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.
“It was a joke.”
No time to mince words now.
“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.
He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.
“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”
“No!”
“No?”
“No.”
For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.
Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.
“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”
When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”
With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.
“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”
You needed time to think.
“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.
But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.
“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”
His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.
Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?
You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.
“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”
You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.
“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.
“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.
You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.
At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.
His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.
Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.
“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.
This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.
Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.
But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.
You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.
You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.
Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.
Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.
Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”
Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.
The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.
It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.
Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.
Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.
Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.
“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.
You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.
Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.
“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.
Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.
Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.
“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”
When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.
“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”
Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.
“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.
But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.
You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.
“Another,” you pleaded.
“Nuh-uh.”
“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.
Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.
“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’
Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.
His expression was hard.
“Fuck my hand,” he said.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.
Fuck my hand.
Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.
“Like that,” he murmured.
All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.
It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.
“Need more,” you keened.
“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.
“Yeah.”
A beat, then:
“Tough shit.”
But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.
“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.
“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.
Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.
“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”
That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.
And pleasure.
The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.
Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.
“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.
Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,
“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”
Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.
Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.
He nodded again.
Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.
After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.
“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.
“Too much?” he returned.
You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.
“Too soon?” he tried again.
“I—”
“Too fast?”
“N—”
“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.
There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.
You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.
“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.
“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”
Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.
“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.
Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.
“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”
Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.
“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.
“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.
When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.
“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.
Joel watched you with careful eyes.
“Yeah? And Tess?”
“Joel—”
“Or Tommy.”
“I don’t—”
“Everyone else?”
Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.
Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.
In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?
You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.
Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.
“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.
“But you did,” you panted.
Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.
Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.
He was a lot like you in that way.
You kept kissing him anyway.
The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.
All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.
“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.
You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.
In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.
“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.
“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”
Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’
You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.
Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.
Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.
“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”
Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’
Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.
He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.
Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.
“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.
“You do?”
“Uh-huh.”
His face softened.
“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”
He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.
“Say that you’re mine.”
No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.
Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?
The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.
The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.
It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.
Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.
His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.
He kissed your hairline and hummed.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”
His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.
“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.
He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,
“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”
“But—”
“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”
His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.
“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.
You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.
“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.
He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.
You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.
Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.
Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:
“Joel!”
“That’s right.”
Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.
“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.
You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’
Oh.
Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.
Your legs were wet.
The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.
You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.
You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.
Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?
“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.
You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.
In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.
Where was that wetness coming from?
You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—
“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.
Your first instinct was to make a face.
That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?
“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.
Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.
“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”
Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.
Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.
Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.
“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”
You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.
And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.
Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.
“‘M’sorry,” he said.
Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,
“You did great.”
He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“So good.”
When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.
“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”
“What?”
Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.
“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”
At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.
He didn’t.
The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.
“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”
You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.
“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”
Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.
“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”
Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.
Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.
You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.
But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.
“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.
“No!”
“I’m not—”
“He’s from the other camp.”
“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”
You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.
“I’m—we’re—” he started.
“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”
She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.
But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.
Then laugh.
Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.
Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.
“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.
“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.
Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.
“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:
“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”
Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.
And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.
“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”
2K notes · View notes
kaciebello · 3 months
Text
Band-aids of death
Masterlist
Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem)
Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic)
Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten
Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n
author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :(
word count: 1347
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Percy has been in at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seems like he's good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.
Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway. After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.
Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. however, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.
They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.
Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.
“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own. “ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.
A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw. “ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 
“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues, “Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”
“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is. “ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders. “ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”
“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”
“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen. “ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 
“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids. “ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 
“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl. “ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.
“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks. “ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 
“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.” “ Australia?” “No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 
“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him. “You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,
 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.
“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.
He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.
2K notes · View notes
gurugirl · 3 months
Text
Next Door Neighbors | Part 2
Tumblr media
neighbor!harry x reader
Summary: Your neighbor, Harry, goes feral after seeing you sweating in your garden.
A/N: Read Part 1 HERE!
Word Count: 5k+
Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight breeding kink, descriptions of bodily scents and tastes (sweat and the like), fluff
. . .
Harry couldn’t help but peek over the fence to watch you when he noticed you were in your backyard gardening. Wearing shorts so short he could almost see your cute ass. And he knew you had a cute ass. Cute everything really.
Though, the longer he watched the more like a creeper he felt. Like an actual creep watching you bent over with your knees and hands in the dirt and sweat soaking through the back of your tank top while you were totally oblivious. But you sure were a sight to behold. He imagined how your sweat must taste and smell. There was something going off in his brain as he watched you that was nonrational, quite carnal when he got right down to it.
He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You’d both been busy with your separate lives and jobs. And it was always awkward for anyone to try and initiate another “get-together” when who knows what the other person is thinking? Maybe to you, it was just a fun one-night thing. Because in a way that’s all it was to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been interested in doing it again, he just didn’t know how you felt about some kind of ongoing, no-strings-attached thing. Or if you even wanted ongoing. Or no-strings. There were too many ifs in the equation.
But he knew one thing. He couldn’t just stand there like a weirdo and stare at your backside for too much longer. So he had an idea, returning to his kitchen he poured two glasses of iced tea then walked back toward the fence and cleared his throat putting a grin on his face, “Looks nice,” he called out to you.
You dropped your trowel and turned around to see your neighbor looking over the fence at you holding up two glasses of something amber-colored. You smiled, standing up, wiping the dirt from your knees and palms, “Hi, Harry. What looks nice? Not much to see yet,” you began to walk toward the fence to get a better look at him.
“Well I can see you put in brick around the beds and ya know… just looks nice.” He shrugged.
“It’s just gonna be easy to care for flowers and shrubs. Some lavender too, for the mosquitos. I’ve been out here for almost two hours. It’s so much more work than I thought it would be. Never had the chance to have a garden before so I’m going to take advantage of this,” you smiled and watched Harry’s pink lips curve upward as his eyes ran down your frame.
“I guess it is a lot of work. Two hours is a lot of time to be out in the sun. I got you a glass of iced tea if you’re interested,” he held it out toward you over the fence and you took it, the icy glass immediately cooling to your palm.
“Thank you, Harry. This is nice of you,” you took a drink because you were thirsty. Parched actually. “Come over if you want to sit with me out here,” you gestured toward the table and chairs that were set up on your back patio. And maybe you were more than just thirsty. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with your hot neighbor.
Harry grinned and nodded, “Think I will if it’s okay.”
You watched Harry round the fence and then open the gate to yours to let himself into your backyard and you saw the way he looked down over your skimpy attire not meant for public eyes.
“Oh…” you looked down at your soiled white tank top and sweaty chest, “Mmm… maybe I should change first? I’m a gross mess.”
“You look great. Don’t worry. Come on let’s sit.”
And he meant it. You did look great. You looked quite like a treat if he were honest. A little sweaty treat but that wouldn’t deter him one bit.
Now you were feeling that bit of tangly excitement strum through your veins at just the sight of him. He was so good looking and it’d been, what? Two weeks since you’d heard from him? It was a little disappointing to you that he never called or texted or dropped in to say hi. Especially after that night you spent with him on his birthday. He had your number because you both swapped them before he walked you back to your house after you had sex.
Of course, you knew what you were doing when it was happening. It was unlikely that you two were going to suddenly fall in love and get into some kind of relationship. You were an adult and it was a fun night. Nothing more. And that was fine. Really, it was. A touch discouraging but nothing to be upset over.
You and Harry sat at your table with your glasses of tea in hand and you took another big gulp to cool yourself down.
“So what’ve you been up to?” He asked as he watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.
“Just normal stuff… work and I go to a book club once a week. Went out and bought all the stuff I’d need for the garden yesterday. Things like that. Nothing exciting. What about you?”
“Same mostly. Been working late this week, just got off actually. Today was an early day. Uhh… I mean that’s it really. Owning a small business means anytime anyone can’t work I’m doing their job for them. One of my guys is sick. He’s been out all week. Kind of sucks but I don’t want him going to a job and getting everyone else sick.”
You nodded, “Wow. That does sound like a lot. Does it happen often that you have to fill in for your employees?”
Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his glass, “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig. I knew that going into it. I really don’t mind it much. Does put a hamper on my social life, though.”
You weren’t sure why that somehow pleased you. Perhaps that meant he had little time to date around. Lack of social life but with a nice little neighbor next door who was always there when he got home… You swallowed a gulp of tea and grinned, “Makes sense.”
Harry tried to keep his eyes on your face but it was hard with the way your white tank top was nearly see-through where you’d sweated. Just under your breasts was wet and along the collar portion and down through the middle of your bra. He could tell you were wearing some kind of sports bra.
“So, uh…” Harry took in your face and realized that when you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you’d smeared dirt under your hairline. He placed his glass of tea down and scooted his chair toward you, cupping his hand at the back of your neck, “Here… you’ve got something…” he wiped his thumb over your forehead and your pulse immediately began to race.
Having his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his other one to wipe your brow felt far more intimate than maybe was intended. You watched his face as he cleaned you up and then he lowered his gaze to yours, “You are a bit of a mess aren’t you?”
He grinned and licked his lips as he moved his hands away and you felt stunned as he lowered his sight to your tits. Maybe he did intend for it to be as intimate as it felt. Maybe he’d done it on purpose.
Looking down at yourself you saw how dirty your tank top was and how clearly sweaty you were. You hadn’t imagined anyone would see you like this but now here you were with your gorgeous neighbor’s green eyes on you.
There was definitely something in the way he was looking at you that made you feel extra hot. Even the sun wasn’t as searing hot as his eyes were on you, “Thanks. Sorry I know I’m so gross.”
Harry shook his head, “Not at all. Quite pretty actually.”
You laughed and looked out into your garden, “Not true. I smell like an unwashed trucker right now.”
Harry laughed with you and he took the arm of your chair and pulled you closer to him, your knees bumping into his as he did so, “Let’s see,” he looked down over the skin on your neck and to your clavicle, leaning in toward your throat you could hear him softly inhale, “Smells more like a sweaty girl who was working in her garden for two hours.”
His nose brushed against your jawline, “A little sweet-smelling, maybe a touch acrid,” he sat back to look at you, “But I’m not picking up any unwashed trucker notes on you.”
His smile was excruciating. You shook your head and balked with a laugh, “You’re crazy.”
He tilted his head and you watched as his seafoam green eyes landed on your lips, “Maybe a little.” He looked back up into your eyes and licked his lips with a soft grin spreading over his lips, “I happen to think you smell really delicious right now.”
Your eyes widened as you scoffed, “You really are crazy in that case. Delicious?” And even though you tried to sound like you weren’t aware of his sudden advances you could tell he wasn’t deterred one bit as he softly placed his middle finger over your knee and pushed up to your midthigh before bringing it back down toward your knee again.
“That’s what I said. Wouldn’t mind getting a better whiff, in fact,” his pink tongue pressed between his lips and you could see the tip of it slowly push outward as his mouth parted slightly, “A taste even.”
You gulped thickly and looked from his finger that was still working a path up and down the top of your thigh and up to his mouth and then his eyes. You could think of nothing you wanted more than to tear his clothes off and have another go with him. Except that you were stinky and even though he was hinting that he liked it you weren’t sure how that was possible.
Harry could smell you with the closer proximity. And he didn’t know what it was about your natural smell that was making his mouth water. He’d heard of pheromones and how sometimes body odor could be a turn-on for some people. He hadn’t ever experienced it until then. But you did smell incredibly sexy. Something primal in him was working its way to the surface and even making his cock twitch in his shorts.
“Do you want me to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked.
You shook your head, “No. I’m just… a little surprised is all.”
Maybe Harry had a thing for sweat or something. You weren’t sure. But he was definitely coming on to you.
“So if I got onto my knees right now, pulled your shorts down, and then stuffed my nose right between your legs you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” The grin on his face was facetious but somehow you believed him when he said it.
And what would your answer be? Would that make you uncomfortable? Or would that make you feel good? Would you enjoy Harry smelling your crotch?
“I don’t…” you laughed and looked down at his finger on your thigh, “Maybe it would be a little strange. I’ve just never… Like it smells bad,” you looked back up into his eyes as he scooted toward the edge of his chair closer to you.
“It doesn’t smell bad. I promise you. But would it make you uncomfortable?” The facetious grin disappeared suddenly and you were aware that he wasn’t playing around.
You laughed out a breath and blinked, “I don’t know.” You turned your head to look at the fence, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing.”
Harry took both of your hands in his and that drew your attention back to his eyes, “Let me do it. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. Okay?”
You couldn’t believe what was happening as you nodded and smiled shyly. You watched Harry scoot out of his chair and get onto his knees with his eyes on yours as his hands ran up your thighs to your shorts, “It’s okay if I take this off?”
You let out a woozy breath and nodded, “Okay.”
Harry smirked as he began to pull down the stretchy material to reveal your cotton thong underneath. The soft groan he let out when your shorts were placed down on the grass as he pushed your legs apart had your heart pumping hard in your chest.
You pulled your lips into your mouth and held your breath as he bent toward your thighs and his fingers smoothed along the plush inside part of your legs and up to your crotch.
He scooted in closer, tucking himself between your legs and then you felt his hands on the meaty part of your hips as he pulled you toward the edge of your chair before he tucked his face in between your thighs and moaned at your smell.
You couldn’t see his face. Only the top of his head and then his nose as he pressed it against the fabric of your sweaty panties. But when he did that he bumped into your clit and you gripped the arms of your chair at that little nudge. And he did it again before he looked up at you, soft green wandering up your body to your eyes.
“Let me eat you out. Y/n,” he swallowed, “my mouth is literally watering right now. You smell so good and I want to taste you. Didn’t get the chance last time.”
You bit your lip and screwed up your brows as you looked down at the man between your legs.
“Are you sure? You really wanna do that? I just can’t imagine that it’s going to be pleasant.”
Harry brought a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, wet kiss that displayed just how much his mouth was watering, “I want to so bad. You can stop me if you don’t like it but don’t worry about me. I’m gonna enjoy myself if you let me.”
You huffed a breath and nodded, “Fine. But… Are you sure?”
His thumbs were pressing against the apex of where your thighs met your crotch, “Is that a yes?”
Rolling your eyes you nodded, “Yes.”
The grin on his face widened as his lips parted and he looped a finger into the fabric covering your pussy and pulled it aside. He dragged his middle finger through your crease and looked from your labia up to your eyes, “Relax.”
Harry bent down and licked a wet tongue over your pussylips and repeated, licking up and up until he pressed into your labia, spreading it apart and lapping through your folds.
He wasn’t sure why he loved it. He enjoyed the scent of women in general but your sweaty, natural scent, unwashed and concentrated had his mind going blank. Like he was an animal and needed to permeate himself with your smell. Needed to eat it and digest it and roll his body around in it.
And the tangy, salty flavor was so feminine and powerful and real… He moaned as he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and carefully tongued over your bud. You let your head loll back as you kept a grip on the arms of the chair you were sitting in when Harry lifted one of your thighs and draped it over his shoulder so he had a better angle of your cunt for his access.
You hoped the neighbors on the other side of the fence couldn’t see anything. If they did, it would just be your back with a man on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting in. But more than that it was the noises you were making that could pose a real problem.
Biting your lip to stifle your moans you looked back down at him. Soft curls on his head, eyes closed, pink lips smoothing against your pussy and lapping at the arousal he was creating. You could see your shiny slick on his tongue as you grew wetter and wetter. The angle at which you were sitting gave you the dirtiest view.
Harry tugged at the fabric of your panties again and ran his tongue along the outside of your pussy under the material of your panties and then he looked up at you as he brought his lips up to your clit and smushed them down onto you and kissed softly before parting from your pussy, “I need to have you riding my mouth,” he panted, “Need this all over my face. Can we go inside?”
You were in a daze. Harry had very efficiently worked you up in a frenzy and you’d nearly forgotten about your smell as you nodded and he pulled you up out of your seat, walking you into your house.
He was rushed as he pulled you along and into your bedroom where he gripped onto your hips and smeared his you scented lips against yours. You weren’t a fan of the smell in all honesty. It was too much. You didn’t mind your scent when you were clean but you hadn’t showered since that morning and to you, it just smelled like unwashed crotch.
His hands slid under the band of your thong as he pushed them down your hips, “Want you naked,” he breathed against your lips.
You moaned when he pulled your panties down your legs and then stood up to take off your tank top, slipping it over your head.
You reached under the elastic band of your sports bra and peeled it off as Harry stripped his own shirt off and then slid his shorts down his legs leaving him in only his boxer briefs.
He wrapped his hands around your middle and pushed you toward your bed before taking your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples, “I’m just gonna say it, Y/n… I’m so fucking attracted to you. You’re gorgeous but the way you look right now and your taste… Kind of having a hard time thinking straight to be honest…”
You smiled at him in disbelief, but maybe you did believe him. He was acting like you were a long-awaited prize. Something he’d been saving up for and finally had the chance to have it. Could your smell be that much of a turn-on for him?
He pulled you with him into your bed, making you straddle his lap as he scooted himself into the middle of your blankets. His cock was already hard under his briefs as you brushed your pussy against the cotton fabric and you were reminded that you’d recently bought condoms. Should something like this ever happen again. But then that reminded you that you were ovulating. Big time. In fact, it was probably THE most fertile day for you in your cycle. You wondered if he could smell that somehow? Was there some kind of innate sense men had during a woman’s ovulation?
You felt his hands around your waist as he laid back and brought you up his chest, “Sit over my mouth,” he mumbled his words and his eyes were heavy as you tugged at you.
You laughed at his desperation as you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his head and very gently lowered yourself. You didn’t want to hurt him but he grabbed your hips and brought you down, making your pussy smother his mouth and tilt against his nose.
A gasp fell from your mouth at the sensation of his wet lips under you. He placed his hands on your ass and pressed you down further, making your clit run against his nose.
Harry would bathe in your scent. Use it as his shampoo and deodorant. Would bottle it up and make a perfume out of it. Yeah, he was losing his mind he was certain. In all his years of being sexually active, he hadn’t been so instantly obsessed with scent in this way. But it wasn’t just your scent. There was something else. Things were budding in him, like an instinctual impulse. It was something that felt ingrained, bestial. It was a base impulse that he couldn’t control.
He suctioned his mouth around your clit and looked up at you with your tits bouncing softly as you bucked your hips on him. Your pretty lips were parted and soft pants were falling from your mouth. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he needed more.
A deep, vibrating moan thrummed through your core, “Harry…” you breathed his name and looked down at him. His eyes were on yours already as he moved his mouth and tongue against you like he was a barbarian, a savage starved and heated… furious with hunger and you were his defenseless prey. A victim being fed on, eaten alive. It was filthy and so hot and he had your insides twisting and boiling with every suck of your clit.
“Fuck… you really like that don’t you,” you coughed a laugh before softly moaning as you placed your hands into his hair.
Harry’s brows were furrowed as he grunted and continued lapping and sucking. Like he had no time to respond to such a dumb question. It was obvious he liked it. No. He fucking loved it. He needed it.
His fingers pinched into your skin and you hissed at the sensation of it all. He was rough but it was good. It had you feeling like some kind of sought-after goddess over him. Like you were actually something special and he couldn’t get enough of you.
Your limbs started to quiver the closer you got. You rolled your hips down, pressing your pussy on his lips and bumping your clit against his nose as you moaned in ecstasy. The nearer your orgasm was the louder your voice became.
He drew your clit into his mouth and you felt his tongue slip up and down against it. The way you began to convulse and unravel over him nearly had you collapsing but he moved his big hands up to your waist to keep you steady as you cried out, rocking your pussy over his face.
You couldn’t control the way your body shook in your orgasm. It didn’t feel like you had full control of your movements as he continued to lick you through your release.
You jolted at how sensitive you felt, your clit suddenly feeling quite delicate and you pushed your hips up to separate from his mouth but he pulled you back down with a deep gravelly groan as he went in again, his mouth and tongue allowing no mercy.
“Harry! Fuck!” You giggled and pressed your palms onto his forehead and used your thighs to gain leverage to pull away from him, “Too much!”
You backed down his chest to move away but Harry sat up and grabbed your hips harshly, pushing your back down into the mattress after he crawled over you, “I’m going crazy or something…” he kissed down your neck and lowered his mouth to your breast and sucked the skin, swiping his tongue over every inch until he moved to the other side and delicately nibbled your nipple and pulled at it with a moan. When you felt his mouth begin to trail down your tummy as his hands began to spread your thighs again you snapped your legs closed and laughed, pushing at his forehead, “Are you serious? I’m too sensitive, Harry!”
He groaned and looked up at you, “I want more…”
You kind of loved this if you were honest. Loved how he seemed possessed by you.
“You can fuck me if you want. My clit needs a little break from your mouth, though,” you grinned at him, “Wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me again. I have condoms this time.”
Harry sat back onto his haunches and you saw just how erect and hard he was. His cockhead was pushing at the top band of his underwear, begging to be let loose so you reached for it and pulled it away from his hips, letting his tip poke above the band, “Do you want to?”
He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. Fuck, okay.”
You pried his hands from your hips and moved to the edge of your bed to open up your bedside table, pulling out your fresh pack of condoms. Harry had removed his underwear quickly and then took the box from you as he moved behind you and tore the pack open to pull out a foil wrapper.
You bit your lip as you watched him toss the box onto your bed and rip the wrapper to bring the rubber out.
He looked up at you as he placed the condom on his tip, “Wish I could fuck you raw, Y/n. I know that’s a bad idea in my logical mind, but…” he looked down as he rolled his hand down his shaft and then back at you, “Something about you makes me want to do a really stupid thing,” he puffed out a laugh as he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you back into your bed.
You were completely caught off guard by his dominance but it did nothing but turn you on even more, “What really stupid thing?” You asked as he grabbed your thighs and pressed his palms to the back of them, pushing your legs out of the way of his hips as he pressed himself against you.
“It’s just a thing…” he looked directly at you as his crown pressed through your muscle, spreading you open gently, “Like lizard brain. Spreading my seed, claiming you…”
Your mouth dropped open as he plunged himself into you. That thick cock taking up so much space on your insides it ached.
“Oh fuck you feel so good, Y/n…” he growled as he began thrusting himself through your walls, getting himself good and deep, “Want to fill you up with my come is what I want…” he groaned, another stiff rut through your slick pussy, “Show everyone what I did… how I made you mine… fuck…”
You understood what it was he was saying. It was that primal thing most humans had in them to procreate. Especially men. And your ovaries were not opposed to what he was saying at that moment. But you knew that feeling would pass once you stopped ovulating.
You sighed as he rocked into you, his chest flushed and his arms flexed as he drove himself back and in over and over again until his rhythm grew brutal and he was hammering into you with deep moans.
You whined at the way he was punching into you, sliding through your cunt like he was going to die if he didn’t put his all into it. He was fucking into you like a madman.
“Oh shhhit, Harry!” You yelped out when his hips pasted against yours and he choked out a loud groan as his cock began to throb in heavy pulses inside of you.
“Fuck, I’m coming… Shit!” His face twisted up as he released into his condom, wishing he was coating your walls and letting his sperm seep into your ovaries. He felt a little bad that he didn’t make you come again, but he couldn’t hold back. He was in caveman mode, or whatever it was… completely blissed out and not thinking rationally.
You watched his handsome face scrunch up and then relax as his lips parted and he ground into you, swiveling his hips against you so hard it made your pussy clench with a pang of pain. The good kind of pain. This was the kind that was worth it. To watch this big man over you in ecstasy, soft gasps falling from his lips as his come drained out of his cock in relief.
When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you he felt your hand on his jaw with your lips turned up in a soft smile, “Better?”
He laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. That’s… I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”
You gulped and pulled at him, both of you rolling to your sides, “I’m ovulating so I wonder if you’re like smelling the pheromones or whatever?”
He grinned widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Maybe? I guess that’s a thing right? But… I’m sure I’ve been around other ovulating women. Never made me insane before.”
You raised your brows as you brought a hand to his temple and smoothed his hair back a little, it was all messy from you sitting on his face, “Maybe I’m just special.”
Harry licked his lips and his grin turned into something playful with an edge of lust, “Well you certainly taste special,” he lifted your arm up and leaned in, licking up the curve of your armpit and you squealed in shock and laughed.
“What on earth? That’s so gross!” You pushed at him but he pulled your arm around his middle so you couldn’t shove him too far.
“Mmm… I swear you have something in your sweat that’s making me crazy.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I think it’s just lizard brain. Like you said.”
Harry shrugged and nuzzled in closer to you, “Maybe. The only way to find out is if we do this more often. Probably shouldn’t wait so long between seeing each other anymore.”
You were not disappointed by the turn this took. You’d be down to see him more often if he wanted, “Yeah?”
“Definitely, yeah.”
Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon
Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕
Tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut @straightontilmornin @elidoho @bananabk9756 @gotdrxnkonu
1K notes · View notes
gyeomsweetgyeom · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
[7:09 pm]
(cw: parents!au)
Every parent knew what silence meant. Silence meant some huge mess was being made, someone was hiding, being mischievous, general mayhem being had. This was especially true in your home with your daughter and 3 cats. It was never this quiet in your house with the four—five troublemakers in your house. It couldn’t be the main troublemaker because he was sitting right next to you, fully invested in a a reality tv show.
“Jaemin, listen,” You said quietly while you muted the tv.
He looked at you quizzically, “I don’t hear anything… what could she be doing now?”
“It’s not her nap time yet, I have a very bad feeling about this,” you replied nervously.
Your daughter had a sweet face, she was nice and friendly in public. She always waved at strangers with a huge smile on her face. She knew to stay by your side when she wasn’t sitting in a shopping cart. She very rarely threw tantrums, a perfect little angel. People had even told you so.
In the comfort of your home on the other hand, she was hyperactive and loud. She wreaked havoc on the daily. And the cats were either right her side or far, far away from her. There was no in between. When the cats decided she was being too much your daughter would try to climb their scratching posts to reach them or pull on their tails. The poor animals. When they decided to help her the house was loud, something got destroyed, scratched, or simply broken.
The last time the 4 of them had joined forces you needed to buy a new bookshelf for the living room with all new frames for the pictures that filled up some empty spaces on the shelves.
“Rock, paper, scissors to see who goes,” Jaemin offered. You rolled your eyes but complied. Softly hitting your fist against the palm of your hand. One paper and one rock, you lost.
“Wish me luck please, and have your credit card ready to shop. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna be sick,” you muttered, standing from the couch and walking toward your daughter’s room, but not without pouting and sending pleasing looks to your husband.
You tiptoed quietly to her open door and took a peek inside. Oh good, she was playing with her baby dolls. Wait, since when were they covered in fur?
You ran back to the living room whisper yelling, “Honey, you have to come see what your daughter is doing!”
Jaemin tilted his head back and shut his eyes, “why is she only my daughter when she’s being naughty?”
“It’s not even that bad, no new furniture. Just come see!” You tugged on his arm until he was up and quietly sneaking behind you.
You both peeked into the open door and watched as your daughter swaddled up one of the cats, Luke. And he liked it! He was purring and nuzzling into your daughters small and unusually gentle hands. “Ok baby! It’s time for a nap!” She told the cat before placing him in her toy bassinet. The poor doll who it belonged to could be seen face down under her bed.
“And for the other baby, it’s lunch! Time for your bottle,” she told Luna, picking up the cat and holding her like a newborn while holding a toy bottle to the cat’s mouth. And poor Lucy was sitting on a doll bed with a bonnet tied below her chin, but she looked unbothered.
“I think the cats… like it?” Jaemin whispered in confusion.
You looked at him, “weirdly enough, I think they do too.”
You and Jaemin continued to watch the four of them play and interact. They were all calm and playing happily, until, she turned and caught sight of you.
She bounded over to you and jumped into your arms, knocking the wind out of you.
“I’m practicing!” She smiled brightly.
“What are you practicing for, baby?” You asked her, moving some hair out of her face.
“Daddy said he’s going to get me a baby brother! So I have to practice being a good big sister!” She smiled, stating it like it was obvious.
Your fave dropped, looking at Jaemin with a raised eyebrow, “did your dad say that? That’s news to me. What else did he tell you, baby?”
Jaemin’s face dropped and your daughter began spilling all their secrets. How he always bought her candy before ballet, they sometimes snuck some ice cream together after you were asleep, Jaemin put sugar in her cereal, and how he promised her new toys if she didn’t mention anything about a new sibling. “Do I still get my toys daddy?”
“Uh! No! She would not be getting any new toys!”Jaemin yelled in his mind.
“You can ask daddy later, he’s about to be in very big trouble.”
1K notes · View notes
teeldaa · 1 month
Text
so i was looking up datamined content from early access and wanted to rant and talk about some of the changes Ketheric and Shar His story was changed twice!in both ea version he was a moon elf chosen of shar(he had nothing to do with Myrkul),in the first version Halsin accidentally killed Isobel and that pushed ketheric to release the shadow curse, nightsong was an avatar of shar
Tumblr media
this is the original nightsong,a necromancer called "sevryn"(beta version of balthazar?!) had quest for the player to kill her with a dagger that absorbed her power,but if you saved her she could become a camp follower,here's some of her lines
"Shar is the Nightsinger, and I am her Nightsong." "I am her instrument, transforming the faithful into Shadows." "I drink their sorrow, their loss, their grief,then I vomit it back into the world." "I was captured, by Ketheric Thorm - Shar's chosen.He turned me into this creature." "I want to sing my own song, not Shar's, not Ketheric's!"
you can listen to her datamined voice lines here and here's a video about that version in the second version Ketheric turned away from Selûne when Isobel was still alive in that version it was Balthazar who killed isobel then framed Aylin as her murderer there was this isobel's line "I was dead, Aylin. For so long. It was Balthazar - he trapped my soul, he-" and Aylin's line "It is why I couldn't leave your body, even when they came. Balthazar and that Sharran witch told your father that I was to blame." and one Ketheric's line @ Aylin"You killed my daughter, then you stand before me and lie? I'll see you suffer tenfold what my Isobel did."(source) i think being recruitable kinda make sense for this version of Ketheric because he was being manipulated by Balthazar and Shar btw here's ketheric and isobel's datamined models(source)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
so act 2 was all about the conflict between Selune and Shar and they just slapped myrkul in there last minute?! so Ketheric being a sharran and a chosen of absolute means shar was somehow supposed to involved with the absolute plot(that why shadowheart and her fellow sharran went and stole the artifact)
Daisy,The Urges,Orpheus and The Emperor Daisy was the early access version of dream visitor and every companion used to have their own unique daisy(everyone had the same dream except Astarion)"Down by The River"and"The Power"used to be about daisy there were "urges" in early access that wanted you to kill Daisy Orpheus was in the artefact but he wasn't chained up,he was supposed to be the one who helped you and shielded you from the absolute instead of the emperor.He probably had a way bigger role there is a misconception that original tav was meant to be a bhaalspawn which is straight up false,the dreams and the urges from early access only accrued if you used your illithid power (using them originally meant to have severe consequences) i know some people say daisy was supposed to be a manifestation of the tadpole that was trying to turn you and your party into mindflayers but i don't think it was ever confirmed what daisy or those urges were,i could be wrong but i remember it was datamined that both the Absolute and Orpheus used the Daisy persona...idk i know some people are gonna be like"dream guardian is better,Daisy was creepy/obviously evil"but Daisy only appeared if you used your illithid power,plus you could just reject them...or even kill them
as for the emperor,at first i thought he was just a replacement for Daisy and Orpheus but apparently no!i was watching Harbs Narbs talking about bg3's magic the gathering cards,when he saw the elder brain's card he said"could this be the emperor?"
Cazador and The Butcher …they basically cut everything...(source of datamined lines) so there was this character called "the Butcher"(who was one of the chosen/leader of absolute)who asked you to find his apprentice "Ohler" in Baldur's Gate's graveyard and bring him back a flask(?!),he was the leader of a skeleton faction(their faction was called TadpoledSkeleton)their concept art is still in bg3 artbook
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i'm guessing this butcher guy was supposed to be the original Armored male elf chosen of myrkul?!ohler was caught by an ancient and powerful vampire called"the alluring"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
you could side with the butcher and bring him back his flask,then he proposed to turn you into an undead,but if he allowed him to performe the ritual to turn you undead he also would try to make you his puppet. if you managed to break free of his control and you had to fight him. To kill him permanently you had to destroy his phylactery,otherwise he would resurrects every time. or you could side with Cazador,he wanted the butcher guy dead
Tumblr media Tumblr media
btw i was looking at bg3 art book pdf i found these on cazador's page
Tumblr media Tumblr media
is that what he originally was supposed to look like?!the scythe...ugh it looks so cool the other interesting thing is apparently other spawns were somehow okay/happy with their situation
Tumblr media
the other thing i wanted to mention is i think Cazador was originally supposed to be a half elf,the language Cazador uses is Kozakuran,The Kozakurans were a human ethnicity The Creche vs The Cult of the Absolute (source) there was supposed to be a fight between the absolute cultist(led by Orin and the butcher)vs the creche(and some sort of team up between lathander priests and githyanki)
Tumblr media
you could side with the absolute,they wanted to stop Kith'rak Voss from returning to Vlaakith,here's some of the butcher's lines
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and orin's
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and this orin badass moment,i'm still salty they cut this for the full release...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
or you could side with Voss and helped him escape(i suggest you watch the source video,there's so much more there)
some other stuff there was some datamined stuff bout the city here and here i don't get it...why did they change so many good stuff,Ethel's nephew and hag coven,Raphael's original deals,Zevlor plot twist and...are all gone at first i thought they"cut"those content due to time restriction or resource constraints but that's clearly not the case,There is a clear change in direction,i think what they were originally going for was"choosing the lesser of two evils"then they decided to go with more generic route of good vs evil! bg3 was released in August 2023,larian was looking for beta testers for Acts 2 & 3 in july 2022 idk maybe if they didn't rewrite the companions to be less mean/evil and didn't add halsin and dark urge they could have finish the game?!
971 notes · View notes