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#prompt: lifted by the neck
hoshigray · 3 months
Note
this shit came in my mind but imagine reader ties toji wrist behind his back and teases him like touching herself n shit and he’s desperate and hard asf but reader not giving him any frictions just small touches to get him riled up and somehow toji unties the rope and rest in peace her and her pussy 🪦💕
we all love hardcore dom toji with degrading and oversim kink 💕💕
yes we do, yes we do~
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: hardcore dom! Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - restricted movement (m! + f! receiving); use of rope - teasing - Daddy kink - masturbation (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - impact play (pussy + ass slaps) - backshots position - multiple orgasms - degradation (broad, slut, whore) - dumbification - clitoral play (licking/sucking) - overstimulation - use of a BDSM collar - pet names (baby, good girl, mama). 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k
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He has a salacious grin plastered on his face. “You know it’s gonna take more than just one lil’ rope, right?”
You giggled, “Well, guess we’re testing your limits tonight.”
Toji sits on his knees on the hardwood bedroom floor, wearing nothing but his grey sweatpants, his bulky arms constricted behind his back as his wrists are restrained by a red rope, additionally tying his thumbs together. Other than this lies a black collar that slings around his neck, a leash that you twirl around your pretty fingers is connected to the ring part. 
You sit at the edge of the bed, wearing your undies and an oversized sweatshirt — his sweatshirt that you snatched the moment he took it off. Your eyes look down at him, a thing that rarely happens. And now that it’s happening, you take your time savoring it. “Just sit there and watch. No touchy, and no breaking that rope.”
He quirks a brow up. “Who made ya the one givin’ orders around here?”
“Me, of course; I’m the one who tied you up,” you lightly tug the rein, prompting Toji to bend a little closer. His jade eyes darken, and you can’t fight the smile that creeps on your face. “Be a good boy and enjoy the show, all right?”
He doesn’t answer, just watching you begin. You start by spreading your legs, exposing the region of your inner thighs and the cute design of your stripped panties. Your fingers crawl down to underwear, swiping up and down on the material to push between your vaginal folds. The wetness warming up causes a spot to form.
You can see Toji’s eyes follow every movement, tilting his head when your forefinger rubs a circle on your clothed clit. Your fingers then decide to sneak inside your undies, your wet cunt meeting your intruding digits. He glances back to your face when you release a soft moan and chuckles. “Enjoyin’ yourself, mama?”
“Mhmm, and you?” Your toes go to his chin, lifting his head. 
The action had his smirk broaden. “Ya sure gettin’ a kick outta this, huh.”
You don’t give him a response – you don’t need to. You’re in control now; he’s the one who should behave and do his part. Your foot then twiddles down to Toji’s sweatpants, pressing and sliding on his groin. It makes his breath hitch. “And what if I am?”
“Mmmph…Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish, baby.” Fuck, the way he looked at you was making you turned on. Even if he’s limited to moving, his dominant side doesn’t falter. It makes you want to tease and push his buttons more.
You lie on your back on the bed, stuffing your fingers in your mouth to bathe them in saliva before returning inside your panties. The self-lubrication makes it easier to slide in your forefinger, a gasp leaving your lips at the insertion. Your toes curl on the tent of his sweatpants, which only get firmer with every second. 
You bring the collar of his shirt to your nose; the cologne remains and attacks your nostrils. “Mmmm…Ahhhh, fuuck…” your voice muffled from the sweatshirt, concealing your puffy lips after pressing on your clit with your thumb.
Toji watches you masturbate before him; he has no choice but to. His bulge becomes more and more annoying to push off, wanting to touch himself and revel at the view of you relieving yourself thinking of him. Hell, the image of your damp panties ticks him off, wanting to rip that skimpy material off himself to feast on your cunt all he wants. Fuck this rope, man…
And he stands by that thought when you warp the leash around your palm and tug it roughly, pulling Toji’s face closer between your legs. The squelching commotion made by your fingers ringing his ears. Fuck, it was so dirty, and he loved it. You peer down at him, “How’s the view down there?”
He scoffs with a bitten lip. “Oh, y’re such a fuckin’ tease, sweetie. You have no idea what y’re gettin’ y’reself into.” 
The sentence humors you. “What makes you say that?”
With a twinge of his lips, Toji straightens his posture and reveals his hands are untied, the red rope clutched in the grasp of his right hand. And the look on your face when he shows you? Priceless.
“Huh!?” You exclaimed with widened eyes! “B–But I made sure to tighten it—“
“I told you,” he gets up on his two feet while his hands undo the collar around his neck. Now, he’s looking down at you; the shiver slithering down your spine at the darkened emerald look he gave you was stomach-dropping. “Gonna need more than one rope. Now, let’s see who’s really gettin' a kick outta this…” 
Damn, you could only chuckle nervously. I’m so fucked.
Yeah, you are. 
Now you’re screaming your heart out from Toji using your body to how he sits fit, his mouth now ravaging your soapy folds and his tongue flicking up and down roughly on your clit. Your hands are tied to your back, your legs propped up by one hand and the other curled around with the leash connected to the collar around your neck. 
“—Ahaahhn!! Ohhhh!! Fuckin—Gahhhh…!” You could barely utter a word, Toji sucking the soul out of you through your essence. You almost choke on your tongue, back arching at the aggressive laps at your cunt.
“Stay still,”  he slaps on your chasm, and you cry at the impact. 
“Hoohhh!! T–Tojiii, please—Ohhhh!!” Another harsh smack; God, you choked on your spit. 
“That ain’t my name,” stern emerald eyes convey a commanding aura. “Actin’ all dumb on my tongue like a slut, can’t even follow an easy rule.” 
“…Ahhhh, I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m ‘orryyy…!”
“Hmph, good girl.” He praises – the only kind thing he’s done outside of the onslaught of teases and sucks he’s done to your body, forcing you to come for the third time in a row. 
“AHHCK!! D-Daddyyy, stooop!! It’s ‘oo muchhh!! Too muuuch—“ your words slur out in helpless cries, not being taken seriously by the man between your legs. 
Although, it’s necessary because your slit is going to need to provide as much slick it can to accommodate the girth of Toji’s raw cock penetrating inside you. Fuck, you could never mentally prepare yourself for him, being full of him every single time. Clenching around his length like crazy, wailing out for him like a porn actress.
Toji’s fucking you from behind — your head smushed to the pillow because his hand pushes you by the neck. On all fours, your arch propping your ass up, the quick strokes of his pelvis have his dick scrape your walls euphorically, all the while gripping your asscheeks like a toy. He’s had you climaxed four times already, and he’s going to get that fifth one unquestioned.
“Fuuuuck—Hic…!” Tears stream down from watery eyes, and pornographic whines squeak out from you.
“—Hnngh! Fuck, clenchin’ on my dick like a real whore, mama,” he gives your ass a swift smack, forcing you to cry and the gushy walls of your vagina to clamp onto him again. “Shiiiit, fuck, I’m gonna cum…”
You can feel it, too; the climb of your own crescendo is soon. “Me toooo, I wanna cummm, Daddy, please, I wanna—Ahhaaaah!!” He slaps your butt again – the sting on your skin causes more tears to fall. 
Toji doesn’t give what you want – no, sir. He removes his cock quick, and a choked mewl clogs your throat when he pulls the leash, yanking you towards him.  “Heh, fuckin’ broad; who said you can cum with me?” 
God, he’s so mean. I fucking love this so much! “—Khhh…Please, Daddy, I wanna cum so baaad, pleaseee…!”
“Oh, really?” His patronizing tone with his gruff voice was such a hot combination. Still holding onto the strap, he brings you up from his grip. You’re practically choking on your saliva, thanks to this damn collar.  “Did ya learn y’r lesson, hmm?”
“Mhmm! Yesshh, I’m sho sorryyy,” holy fuck, you gotta be looking so dumb right now; eyes rolling up with drool coming down your chin.
Not for Toji; it was the sight he wanted to see. And now that he does, he’s thoroughly satisfied. Finally, he releases the leash, having you fall to the pillow with no grace, drawing in of breath. He inserts his cock back into you with a hum, and another slap to your ass makes you jerk. 
“So good fr’ me always, mama…”
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hehehe~ it's been a while since I've done impact play *grins*.
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – dividers from @/hitobaby.
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ceilidho · 9 months
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prompt: ghost and you are the only survivors of a military plane crash. you spend weeks alone in the wild together. (ns/fw)
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In the years you’ve worked as a flight attendant, you’ve never experienced a plane crash before. It’s exactly like what you would’ve expected.
Clear skies rapidly turn grey outside the tiny windows to your left and right; you notice it almost instantly because it casts a pall over the interior of the aircraft. It makes the small group of men that you’ve been travelling with sit up a bit straighter in their seats, only a few of them looking genuinely concerned. Military men often do; it’s in their nature to worry and fret. You feel it like a twinge in your gut, like something telling you that you don’t usually fly through dark clouds. 
The soft ding of the seatbelt sign comes on a handful of seconds later. The turbulence only a few moments after that.
Pilots are trained to avoid cumulonimbus clouds like they’re a harbinger of death (and they are). Even large airliners avoid crossing the path of a cumulonimbus. Your pilot should’ve known to divert and fly around the cloud, avoiding the possibility of flying through a thunderstorm altogether. The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom for everyone to fasten their seatbelts and you notice distantly that his voice seems frazzled. 
Your hands grip the seat as you strap in. This is exactly the kind of scenario you’ve prepared extensively for, but in the face of it, your stomach tosses and turns. Practice can only hope to ape reality; it often falls short. 
From across the aisle, you lock eyes with the lieutenant in the skull mask that politely refused a beverage ten minutes ago. The plane jostles you violently in your seat as it passes through a rough patch of turbulence. Even the lieutenant, twice your size and rooted into his seat, his hands clamped around the arm rests, grunts when he’s rocked side to side. 
There’s a loud pop outside the aircraft and the plane teeters dangerously to one side. The bags in the overheads bash against the doors, the plastic squeaking under their weight. 
Someone screams. The other attendant sitting across from you is already shouting, “Brace! Brace! Brace!” The mantra bursts from his chest along with spittle and the singular, quivering note of fear. There’s not much more you can do but follow his lead, dropping your head to your knees and wrapping your arms around your legs.
Your stomach drops when the plane descends far too suddenly. You would’ve been pulled back against the wall if your arms weren’t wrapped around your legs. You have enough time to peek up briefly to see all of the other men assuming the same position, some with their heads pressed against the seat in front of them before the aircraft nosedives and there’s a sharp whistle in your ear and the lights flicker ominously in the cabin and something tears and tears and tears and—
Then it’s dark.
Your grip must have loosened because the world disintegrates after you hit your head. There’s only a faint buzz and something ice cold, something that grips you from the inside and slithers over your skin. The aftermath of a crash is so quiet for the devastation it brings.
The big one in the scary mask is the one who drags you from the wreckage, lifting you into his arms when you’re still too dazed to do more than whimper pathetically. Fear and pain and adrenaline have crumpled you up into a little ball. 
“Keep your eyes open,” he says, and maybe it’s a shout. His voice is so loud. When you open them, you nearly close your eyes instinctively when you see the gaping hole in the plane where it’s been torn apart. 
“Where are—” it hurts to speak, but you have no choice, “—the others…”
He doesn’t respond. That makes it worse. You slip your arms around his neck so he can hike you closer up his chest. Slung over his shoulder is a black duffle bag that he must have pulled from the overhead, or what’s left of them. When your head turns on a swivel, you startle at the sight of the other attendant still strapped in his seat, his neck snapped back at an odd angle. 
You turn your head away. 
“My leg hurts really bad,” you sob, fingers clutched in the sweat-matted fabric of your saviour’s shirt. 
He palms the back of your head and tips you just enough for you to meet his eyes. Something dark shutters over his face for a split second. If your eyes weren’t filled with tears, you might’ve noticed it. It passes fast though, too quick for you to register it in these conditions.
“‘Gonna be okay, sweetheart,” he says, gentler this time, rough-sounding like he’s not used to using that tone. “Gonna get us out of here and then I’ll check your leg. Just hang on to me.”
It’s hard to catalogue every moment because you drift in and out of consciousness. You feel the man shift you in his arms whenever he clambers down the side of the mountain your plane must have flown into. There’s debris from the wreckage scattered around the rocks, the other half of the plane not too far away. When your eyes blink open briefly, you see how decimated the other half is. 
There aren’t any other survivors. Only bodies. He doesn’t stop for them.
Far off from the wreckage, he sets you down onto the soft earth and rifles around in the bag he took. There’s a first aid kit with supplies that he uses to wrap your ankle, which is swollen and tender. The adrenaline crash is nearly more violent than the plane crash you just survived. It wracks through your body as the lieutenant strips your shoes and socks, gently manipulating your foot in his big hands. You notice he’s also lost the mask.
Ochre yellow and green plains spread outward from the mountains. You remember from the flight maps on board that you were somewhere over Mongolia, but the exact mountain range eludes you. This could be the Khangai or the Sayan or the Altai, but you have no way of knowing. 
“Is there a…a phone in the bag? How’s anyone gonna know we’re out here?” You sound helpless, smaller than you’ve ever sounded. 
He shakes his head. The tight ball of tension in the middle of your chest grows tighter. The thought that you’re stranded in the mountains in Mongolia, thousands of miles away from home and no way to get help is almost enough to send you into a panic attack. 
A hand cups under your chin to tilt your head up. His face up close is exquisite and haunting—weathered in the way that career military men often are, burn marks and old scars littered across the delicate skin, lips perpetually chapped, and a nose that looks like it’s been broken way more than once. You can’t look away. 
“Someone’ll be looking for us,” he says. It’s reassuring only because he says it like it’s a certain thing. “Don’t know if you saw who was on that flight roster. A lot of important men were supposed to arrive in Germany at twenty-one-hundred hours.”
You nod, tears still dribbling down your cheeks even when he swipes his thumb across to rub them away. He’s not wrong. There was a colonel on your flight after all. Dead now, hot corpse still steaming in the wreckage half a kilometre away, but he would’ve been important enough to warrant an immediate rescue. 
You go still under his touch. “You weren’t on the flight list.”
He shakes his head. “Never am.”
“But you were with them?” You remember someone on the flight addressing him by his rank. It was early on in the service, when you were still strapping down bags and doing cross-check, making sure everything was in place. But you remember, even then, seeing that there were more bodies on the plane than names on the list; you’d brought it up to the captain, but he’d brushed off your concerns. Maybe he knew the reason behind the lieutenant’s name being held off the passenger list. 
It’s all moot now anyway. 
“Can’t bring a ghost on a flight,” he says darkly, like it’s a joke. Like you’re in on it together. “Can’t put it on the roster at least. S’bad luck after all.”
It’s a monstrous joke at a time like this. Your life feels cracked in half and the scarred brute of a man that pulled you from the wreckage makes jokes like it happens to him every other day. When the sky splits later that night and pours out a lake’s worth of rain, it feels appropriate. You huddle with the lieutenant at the base of a densely branched tree and shake.
Five weeks in the mountains go by slowly. 
The shelter he builds is haphazard but meticulous, composed of various materials that Ghost scavenges from the plane wreck. A door becomes a makeshift roof. He makes you sit and wait as he collects dozens and dozens of branches, chopped down from the surrounding trees and fashioned into a lean-to. Padded with moss and leaves. 
“I can help with getting the leaves,” you protest when he catches you hobbling around and carries you back to the nest of blankets and tarps that he’d pulled from the plane. He goes back every so often to see what remains and what can be used. It’s the only time other than when he hunts that Ghost leaves you alone for even a second, preferring to be within arm’s length of you the rest of the time.
“You can help by sitting your ass down,” Ghost grunts without even looking up at you. 
You frown, fingers digging in the dirt by your feet. It’s a silly complaint but there’s never anything to do but wait. 
In the early morning hours, Ghost goes off and hunts for you, when the world is still quiet and the animals are still asleep. They’re sluggish when dawn still hasn’t peeled its pink belly off the surface of the world. Ghost comes back with a deer slung over his shoulders one week, his knife still protruding from its neck, and your stomach only twists a little bit. Not used to seeing where your meat comes from. 
There’s not much choice when you’re on your own in the elements. Every day, you expect to see a helo appear over the horizon, and you end each night crestfallen when it doesn’t. 
It’s not like you haven’t completed basic training, a prerequisite to applying as a military flight attendant, but admittedly it’s been several years and basic never taught you to hunt for your food. You did other things that seemed, at the time, inconsequential to your career path, like learning to rappel and how to wait an hour for your NCO to show up for PT in the morning. 
Even if your ankle hadn’t been badly sprained, you wouldn’t be much help. Ghost’s remarkably self-sufficient. It makes you question whether he’s done this before—whether he’s gotten stranded in the woods for weeks on end and had to learn to live hand-to-mouth. 
“Have you…where’d you learn all of this?” you ask him in the dead of night, when the wind is a shrill hiss through the trees and you cower close to him in your sleeping bag (also salvaged from the wreck, though his has a tear down the side of it).
Ghost is quiet for a moment. “All over the place. Been doing this for years, love; had to learn.”
“Anything ever like this?”
Even with the absence of his mask, it gets so dark at night that you can’t see his face. You can hear the wry smile that plays on his lips in his voice though. “I’ve had worse days.”
There’s a story there that you see like a fish darting under the water. Too quick for you to catch with your bare hands. 
You wake up with your cheek pressed against his pillowy chest most days. It’s embarrassing at first, but you learn to let it melt off you when you meet Ghost’s eyes and there’s nothing there but piercing blue. They root you in place most of the time but they never tell you to move. 
It takes a while before your ankle starts noticeably healing. In the intervening weeks, Ghost almost dotes on you, in a rough, untested sort of way. Like he doesn’t have much experiencing tending to another person besides himself for weeks on end. As the weeks drag on, it morphs into something unrecognizable, like a wounded animal healing wrong. 
It starts when Ghost insists on sharing sleeping bags. It’ll be easier for him to pull you close if something tries to drag you off in the night (and doesn’t that thought put you on the brink of a panic attack until he shushes and soothes you). It escalates when you make the mistake of tending to the meat hanging over the fire while he fiddles with the little radio he’d dragged back from the plane, and the look he gives you when you tell him that supper is ready borders on reverent. 
It gets even worse when he has you both strip your clothes off on a particularly cold and rainy night, wrapped around each other for warmth. 
“Sweetheart, you’re shaking,” you hear him rumble, big hand drawing a line down your back. You do tremble at that. “C’mon, get closer. Gonna warm you up.”
You wake up in the middle of the night when your ankle is starting to feel solid enough that you think you can manage to go off on your own to relieve yourself instead of waking Ghost up again. That’s the plan anyway. Before you’ve even managed to crawl all of six feet away from your sleeping bag, a rough hand pins you by your shoulder to the ground and the heavy, over two-hundred pound body of your companion drapes itself over you.
“Where the fuck do you think yer going?” Ghost snarls. 
For the first time in a week, there’s a moment of genuine fear. It’s like realizing for a split second that the animal you’ve let creep up behind you is a lot more dangerous than you thought it was. 
“I have to pee,” you whisper-hiss, heart still skittering in your chest.
He’s silent behind you while he mulls that thought over; you think maybe he’s still half-asleep, his body acting on instinct before his brain’s ready to take over. The tension only releases you when he finally picks himself up off you, but it’s immediately made worse when he insists on accompanying you into the woods. 
He doesn’t even turn around while you pull your underwear down and squat. Ghost’s eyes are bright in the dark, trained on you like it’s the thing that gives him purpose. 
Things change in the woods. There are people who are only one bad thing away from reverting to their neolithic mind; as the weeks go on, you see the way his eyes change when they fall on you, no longer detached but gluttonous. 
There’s a brown bear that slouches past your camp one day, sniffing around only because it’s curious, and Ghost all but completely obstructs your vision with how he shoves you behind him. He puffs up big when the bear gets too close, keeping you hidden until it snorts and ambles off, not interested in the pair of you. 
Do animals act like this? He curls you around him in sleep, legs tangled together. When you soak in the lake under the glare of the sun, he slips into the water and comes up behind you until his hands close around your waist and he tugs you closer to the edge, away from the deeper parts. It’s testament to how long you’ve been out on your own that you’re no longer unaccustomed to the feel of his hands on your bare flesh. 
His lips on your bare shoulder are a little less commonplace, but you only shiver and stare out at the mountains. 
Then one day, you look up into the sky away from the sun and there it is, a black dot on the horizon at first. You scream for Ghost, who’s skinning a fish on a damp log near you and start waving your arms wildly in the air, unbridled joy streaming out of you. He’s quick to pull his mask on when the chopper lands a few hundred yards away and two similarly dressed soldiers spill out. 
You ignore the stiffness in his body as he sits beside you in the chopper, pinning you against the side. Ignore the way he answers for you when the men start asking questions. 
What does it mean to come back worse?
“Wha’s that, love?”
“Trauma bonding,” you repeat, swallowing nervously. It’s months later, but the weeks on the mountain and the forest still haunt you. The real world seems flimsier now that you’re back in it, less real somehow. Here, no one hunts for their food. “The therapist said that we trauma bonded. And—and that’s why you won’t—”
Here’s where the words can’t seem to come out on their own. 
He sleeps in your bed these days—can’t stand to be more than a room away from you at any given time. Follows you into the bathroom when you need to clean up at the end of the day, crowding you into your too-small shower. The you from a month ago wouldn’t have been able to imagine inviting a six-foot-four soldier into your apartment, but—and here’s where your brain scrambles a bit to catch up—you didn’t invite him in. 
He lifts a brow. The mask comes off in your apartment, so you’re able to see the way his lips slip into something unimpressed. “Why I won’t what?”
You swallow. “You know. Leave.”
“Do you want me to leave, love?” 
That’s the crux of it. The heart of it. You really don’t. In the dark sometimes, if the wind rustles outside your window just right, shrill like those weeks in the forest and out on the open plains, your heart pounds in your chest until it grows so tight that you think it’ll just stop. 
“No,” you whisper in response to his question.
Most nights, you wake up drenched in sweat, still half in a dream where you turn your head and the other flight attendant is staring back at you with wide, empty eyes. Blood dribbling down from his head. Where a plane is ripped in half, grey metal strewn across a mountain and the valley below is a dark pit where you go to die. 
Then you roll over in your bed and Ghost is there, already awake and cupping a wide hand over your cheek, laying kiss after kiss across your face. Murmuring that it’ll be alright, that you’re safe. That he’s got you. 
His breath is hot on your skin.
You let him roll you over and spread your legs when he says those things. Let him be a bit filthy after being so kind to you in the woods. 
He spits on your pussy and rubs it in with a coarse thumb, chuckling when you yelp all breathlessly and squirm away. Sometimes when you fuck, he gets rough with you and slaps it, but he’s always tender with you after a nightmare, content to sooth you with his mouth on your pussy until you’re close to hyperventilating. 
“S’alright, sweetheart,” Ghost breathes, spearing you on his turgid length, barrel chest heaving when he finally crams it all in. Always a bit too big for you to take without crying. “I got you, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you.”
It’s a new development, but it feels older than time. You could’ve let it happen in the woods and you might have, if no one had ever come. 
“Look at me, sweet girl,” he tuts when you turn your head to the side, holding your face in one hand until you have no choice but to stare at the bulk of him straining over you. He has shoulders like mountains that roll when he pushes into you. “Didn’t I say I’d take care of you?”
You don’t want to acknowledge what this is: that you found something in the woods and it followed you home.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Your apartment floods. Inspired by and for @liliumbosniacum
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"I need to take leave."
Simon's phone is pressed against his face, one hand holding the device, the other with a canvas bag in his hand, it's contents overflowing: blankets, baby clothes, your pillow.
"Everything alright?" Price sounds suspicious, but more curious than anything, and Simon sighs.
"Neighbor's flat flooded. She's got nowhere else to go so I'm letting 'em stay with me for a while." Price, thank fucking god, doesn't push it any further, disconnecting with a rumble about checking in with him next week, wishing him a happy holiday, and a parting good luck.
When he hangs up, you're standing hesitantly in his doorway, pile of clothes in your arms.
"That the last of it?" He asks, and you nod.
"Are y-you sure this is okay?" You're still upset, shaken, and he doesn't blame you. You were terrified when you woke up to bone chilling, ankle deep water, frantically shouting about a burst pipe into the phone over Emmaline's shrieks.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got plenty of room." He does. His flat is larger than yours, and though they're both two bedroom floor plans, his bedrooms are bigger, and he has two bathrooms, compared to your one. "I got the crib reassembled in the guest room." He motions to the door that's half opened, a few bags of Emmaline's stuff collected on the floor.
"Thank you." you murmur, and then step forward, burying your face in his chest. He holds you there, rubbing your back, working his thumb into the knot that sits at the base of your neck. “At least we saved the tree,” you laugh, wet and sad, and he hums, bowing to press his lips to your forehead.
“I’m sorry love.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Nothing I could control.” You’ve got a point there, and he appreciates the approach, marvels at your ability to not be angry or frustrated with your neighbor, even though it wasn’t really their fault as well. He’s irritated for both of you, anxious over visualizing what would have happened if the chunk of the ceiling that fell was misplaced and landed on you, or Emma.
You pull away, face twisted up into something that looks painful, tears on your lash line, and he frowns. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart, c’mon. It’s alright.”
“I know.” You cry, clamping your hand over the bridge of your nose and trying to turn away. “It’s just all her gifts we-were in my room and now they’re ruined, and-“
“Okay, so we’ll get more. We still have plenty of time.” He reassures, rubbing his palms up and down your arms until you come back to him, letting him fold you back into his embrace. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
“We will?” You sniffle, and he nods.
“I’m on leave, until after the holiday, so I’ll be around, we can go shopping and replace everything. It’s going to be alright. I promise.” That word slips out of him again, promise. I promise, just like he told you this morning when you were frantic and he said it was okay that you stayed with him, I promise, just like he assured last night when you apologized for Emmaline crying for most the evening. “Okay?” His chin rests on the top of your head, and he turns to kiss you, the touch as soft as he can manage. You hum, and then sigh into him.
“Okay Simon.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.” His refusal is immediate, and you look at him in near exasperation.
“Simon I can’t kick you out of your bed! You’re too big for the couch, anyway, and I don’t mind, I’ve slept on a couch plenty. Plus I’ll be able to hear better, when Emmaline wakes-“
“Sweetheart.” You’re in the living room, bouncing Emmaline in your arms, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’s wearing a red and white striped onesie, like a candy cane, and Simon chuckles when she makes grabby hands at him as he approaches. You sigh, and he tucks his hands under her, lifting her away and into his arms, pleased at how you instantly relax and stretch your back and shoulders in response. “Think you’re getting too big for mama, baby girl.” You roll your eyes, playfully knocking your elbow into his side, and he grunts. “You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.”
“No?” You turn with a hand on your hip, other one holding a half full bottle.
“No, well. I mean-“ he falters, suddenly losing his confidence. “I’m happy to let you have it, or…” He can’t get the words right, can’t communicate what it is he wants to tell you, too worried about scaring you off or being too forward, pushing you too far.
“Or?” You look so pretty, standing in his flat, your belongings, Emma’s, strewn about, just your presence alone making this place feel more like a home than it ever has before. He feels dizzy, overflowing with emotion when Emma lays her head down on his chest, and you smile at her, looking back up at him, delicate, sweet smile on your lips. He bends, tilting your face upwards to meet his, lips ghosting against one another as Emma coos from his arms.
“Or… we can share it.”
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angels-sins0 · 6 months
Text
Ghost x f!reader
Cw: smut, emotionally unavailable Simon, rough sex, age gap relationship (Simon is depicted in his late 30’s and the reader is around 21), older man!Ghost, young & naive!reader, unprotected sex, creampie
Ghost was a complex man.
You had never actually seen his face before, except for his lips and nose when he would lift up his mask to kiss you a couple times.
You had explicit instructions to only call him Ghost, never even bothering to tell you what his actual name was.
Ghost was a complete mystery to you, and it didn’t help that you were a young and curious girl.
You assumed he was in late 30’s, your best guess being that he was 37.
He had you on your back. Fucking into you so deep, his balls were slapping against you. Your legs were spread wide to accommodate him between them.
He didn’t talk much, only letting out the occasional groan when he hit that spot deep inside you.
“Ghost- feels so good…” You moaned and he didn’t acknowledge it, just kept pounding into your greedy pussy.
Ghost had his eyes closed, his face a few inches away from your own. You pulled him in for a kiss that left you breathless.
He let his head drop down to rest beside your neck when he pulled away, and your first instinct was to wrap your hands around him.
For a moment you let yourself believe that you were two lovers sharing an intimate moment with each other and you relished in the feeling it brought you.
Until that feeling subsided when he spoke in a cold tone. “You close?” He asked, no real emotion behind his voice.
“Yes.” You gasped when one of his hands wrapped around your leg, ultimately forcing you to loop both of them around him.
You were growing needier the closer you got to your release. “I wanna— fuck! Wanna see you.” You whimpered and moved one of your hands to grab at his mask in an attempt to pull it up.
He quickly stopped you, lifting his head up and roughly slapping your hand away, pinning both of your hands up in the process.
“Don’t ever fucking try that again. Understand?” Ghost scolded you, causing tears to finally fall from your eyes. All you could do was nod and look away, completely missing the way his eyes scanned your face for a few seconds.
Ghost grabbed your face and forced you to look at him. “Use your words.” He demanded.
“I understand.” You winced at his roughness. It’s like he had an inability to feel anything except for anger. You would sometimes feel so stupid for allowing him to be like this, allowing him to take that anger out on you.
He muttered out a quick “Good.” Before resuming his movements, tears still falling from your eyes even when he pressed his forehead against yours.
You came a couple of minutes after and Ghost followed shortly after you, emptying his load inside you and thrusting into you a few more times to make sure he doesn’t waste a drop.
Ghost lays still, his cock softening up inside your cunt.
“It’s Simon.” He says suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. “What?” His words prompting you to stop crying.
He finally lifts his head up off of yours and slides out from inside you, getting out of his bed and going into the bathroom, completely disregarding what he just said.
You stayed in the bed for a few minutes, until he poked his head out to see if you were still there, letting out what you assumed was an annoyed sigh when he found you still in his room.
Ghost locked eyes with you for what felt like an eternity before you finally got the hint that he probably didn’t want you around by the time he got out.
You quickly got up and started getting dressed, taking a look at yourself in the mirror, and wiping away the tears from your eyes.
You felt so disgusting, for continuing to see him even when he had proved on multiple occasions that he wasn’t a good man, for letting him use you however he pleased.
He startled you when the bathroom door swung open. Ghost coming out in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.
You looked at each other, internally grimacing at the deafening silence that had grown between you.
“I was just leaving, I’m sorry.” You weakly spoke, and he gave no response as he shuffled around his room to grab clean clothes.
He was still wearing his mask, almost like he was expecting to find you when he came out.
“Thank you for… for tonight.” You didn’t know why you said that but you just wanted to say anything in an attempt to get him to acknowledge you as a human being with feelings.
Ghost looked at you as he was sliding into his pants. He didn’t expect you to walk up to him and give him a hug.
You didn’t have the slightest clue as to why you were doing any of this and you couldn’t help the tears that escaped you.
He pulled you away, having not hugged you back. Your hands holding both of his arms. He looked down at you.
“It’s getting late.” Ghost spoke plainly. “Yeah…” You absolutely hated the silence that followed your words.
“Simon?” You said his real name for the very first time, your eyes lighting up slightly when he hummed.
“I’m sorry for doing that earlier. I don’t know what got into me.” You apologized. Simon stayed silent for a few moments, looking closely into your eyes.
“Okay.” He shrugged you off, barely acknowledging your words as he walked away. You took that as your sign to leave his house.
You finally walked out the door and you silently prayed the ground would swallow you up. You looked back once at the closed door before walking away with a heavy feeling in your heart.
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mariahcarreyyy · 1 month
Note
max making u wear a pendant with his initials/driver's number engraved around ur neck coz he likes to watch it swing when u ride him
# 📝 send a prompt and a driver for me to write a short blurb or scenerio ! nsfw 18+ below beware⬇️⬇️
mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post
"Where's the necklace?"
Max's words had made you halt. He placed a gentle hand on your collarbone, pushing you gently from where you were mouthing at his neck and stroking his thumb where the gold of his initials should be.
With furrowed brows, you craned your neck down to follow his disheartened glare. The absence of the cool chain around your neck didn't seem quite as important as the growing need for max, max, max.
"Dunno," you mumbled dismissively, rolling your hips from where you were straddling his legs on the bed. "Ah—bathroom, 'think, t-took it off to shower."
Your boyfriend hummed sweetly before lightly tapping the side of your thigh. "Get it."
Barely forcing down a whimper, you bit your lip, tugging on the hem of his baggy shorts. "Max, please, just—"
A taunting, raised brow was enough to have you huffing and hauling yourself off of his lap. The walk from the bathroom and back to Max's arms, barely ten steps, made your eyes glassy and the pleasure stirring in your stomach boil.
You made the mistake of catching your reflection in the mirror: flushed cheeks, hair sprawled in various directions, and an evident pout etched onto your face. The necklace was expensive; you'd known that, but had Max really needed to stop you mid-foreplay to run and get it?
Judging by his cocky smirk and the fact that he'd fumbled out of his clothes in the ten seconds you'd left, you guessed so. Your eyes drifted down his body, past the sweaty abs, and onto his hand, lazily stroking his hard cock. You wanted it inside you, in your mouth—fuck, he was making it really hard to stay annoyed.
"Happy?" you grumbled, your facade slipping when Max swiftly pulled you into his lap, shivering slightly as he nearly ripped the shirt off of your body, the cold air hitting your nipples and Max's wet tongue trailing kisses down your neck.
Moans slip past your lips, and you slide a hand down to the angry, red tip of Max's length. You grin wildly when he groans, the vibrations rippling against your skin and shooting straight down to your core. "More than." He cups the swell of your ass with his massive palms and lifts you up to hover over his dick. "C'mon, shatje, make y'self feel good on m'cock."
And who were you to deny Max that?
The stretch of his cock burned like it always has, spikes of pleasure overcoming the momentary pain. Max's desperate moans mixed with yours, echoing across the room. After a few seconds, Max's palm impatiently striked at your ass, making you jolt and bite your lip to avoid the embarrassing sound that would have left your lips. "M-Max, oh, fuck."
You lifted your hips, almost slipping Max's slick-covered dick out of your wet pussy before dropping back down. Max's eyes were half-lidded, a hazy grin plastered on his face; he watched the gold swing recklessly, worrying his bottom lip at the fast pace you'd set.
Max rolled his hips upward to meet your movements, and the loud yelp that left your lips made you flush. "Fuckk, s'good, baby—ah, all mine, yeah? All. Fucking. Mine."
Punctuating each word with a sharp thrust, Max almost came when your wet pussy clenched around him. "All yours, m'all yours, Max."
That was what the initials on your collarbones stood for, didn't they?
authors note. i havent written in so long pls forgive me everyone
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dumplingsjinson · 8 months
Text
List of “things they say that makes my heart melt and my knees weak” prompts 
“I can kiss you forever,” Character B murmurs. “Yeah?” Character A says, laughing a little, only to stop when Character B leans in and presses a kiss against their cheek. “Yeah,” Character B says, “Yeah, I can. You think I’m lying?” (As I said, forever ingrained in my brain. I cannot fucking believe this isn’t just fictional shit characters in books/fics say-) 
“You make me so happy.”
“I’m just… Happy for your existence, y’know?”
“You’re going to have to teach me so many things because I’m not familiar with any of this.” “Okay. So… What do you want me to teach you? Where should we start?”
“Here, put your hand under my shirt. It’s more comfortable that way,” Character B says as they lift their shirt slightly, encouraging Character A to slip their hand underneath and letting their warm palm rest against their bare skin. 
“You’re so cute.”
“You’re so adorable.”
“You’re so comfy and cozy.”
“You’re so warm and cuddly.”
“You smell so good,” Character B whispers as they continue to litter kisses down Character A’s jaw and neck, revelling in the noises Character A lets involuntarily slip out of their mouth. 
“Mm, I think you’re the one who wants more cuddles,” Character B murmurs, pulling Character A back into their arms. “Nah, I think you’re the one who wants that. I mean, look at you,” Character A teases, settling comfortably in their arms. 
“Why don’t you try kissing my neck? If you don’t then I’m gonna kiss yours.” “You’re acting like you weren’t just kissing my neck for the thousandth time already just then.”
Character B saying “Stay for tonight?” throughout the whole thing and asking “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” as Character A gets out of bed still in a daze, ready to leave (but not really wanting to leave but they’ve already told their parents they will be home by the end of the night), while Character B looks up at them imploringly while they’re tying their shoelaces.
“Sorry, I’m just really new to this,” Character A mumbles, burying their face in Character B’s chest out of embarrassment. “Mm, that’s fine. We can take things slow. There’s no rush,” Character B reassures in a hushed murmur, carding their fingers through Character A’s hair.
“I’m not familiar with this,” Character A whines as Character B continues to hug them to their chest. “Yeah? Well, you’re going to have to get familiar because I’m going to be doing this a lot,” Character B teases.
“So… What’s the next date going to be?” Character B murmurs, nuzzling their face on Character A’s neck.
“Tell me if this is too much, okay?”
“You seem a little warm in that, you sure you don’t want to take that off?” and then after Character A says no a few times because they’re wearing only a singlet under that shirt, they say, “You can always wear my shirt instead if that’s the case.” 
“You know, you can hold my hand in public if you wanted to,” Character A murmurs into Character B’s chest. “Well… I did want to hold your hand but I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with it,” Character B answers, holding Character A a little tighter to them. “Next time, though,” Character B tacks on affectionately. 
Saying “Let’s go back home” rather than “Let’s go back to my place” (to me it feels like they’re implying “This is your home too and you can come back any time you’d like”, even though that’s probably not what they’re saying but I’m gonna interpret it that way because I am: Delusional as fuck!) 
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tinyluvs · 8 months
Note
ok so after reading about Spencer’s first blowjob…what do you think about the first time he ever eats out? 👀 man’s all “oh I read about this hold on” like it’s fkin quantum theory and he’s intent on trying all these different “techniques” he’s read about but then he tastes reader for the first time and just goes absolutely feral like a man starved 🫣
i see the vision, i gotchu, enjoy my angel!!! this carries on from !! this prompt !! but you don’t have to read it *mdni!!*
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time moves slower as you rest your head on spencer's hip, humming deeply when his fingers press against your scalp, "you okay, angel?" he asks once his post orgasm haze passes, the fog around his brain finally clearing after god only knows how long
"i'm great baby," you reply, lifting your head up to look at him, smiling softly when he traces a knuckle over your cheek bone. he looks at you, thinking, you can practically see cogs turning behind his eyes, "out with it,"
a breath catches in your boyfriend throat, "can i return the favour?" he asks, voice barely a whisper, "please," fingers ghost over your neck, pressing only over your pulse
“spence,” you breathe a little harder, knowing he can feel your heartbeat racing under his fingers, “please, don’t think you have to,”
the insides of your thighs are already damp and sticky, coated with your arousal from your previous activities. you clench slightly, not so subtly rubbing your thighs together
spencer sits up, his head shaking slightly as he does, “no i want to, please honey,” he presses, leaning over your body to kiss the corner of your mouth, “please”
“okay,” you answer simply, words failing you as he uses his body to push against yours, pressing you down into the couch cushions
air gets trapped in between your cheeks, puffed out while you watch your boyfriend hike your shirt up, only enough to expose your stomach and hips before he dips, dragging his lips over your ribs all too slowly
“can i?” he mumbles as he gets to your hips and your head tilts, confusion taking over as you’d been to occupied watching him instead of feeling his fingers teasing at the waistband of your shorts
spencer looks up at you in time to watch you nod, eyes wide and mouth slack, the previously trapped air escaping in a gentle whimper. he lifts your hips slightly, dragging your shorts and panties down your legs, letting them drop onto the floor, out of sight
“hey, are you sure?” you ask again, knuckle hooking under his chin to turn his attention to you. he turns in your hold, kissing your palm before sliding further down between your legs
big hands slide up the back of your thighs, blunt nails barely digging into your skin as he pushes your legs apart, spreading you open inches away from his face
spencer's tongue darts across his bottom lip, his gaze focused on where you're already wet, "i, uhm," he whispers, "read about how to do this,"
you can tell he's nervous, a slight frown forming over his forehead though it doesn't stick around when you smooth over it gently with your thumb, "you read about it? angel, it's okay if you don't get it right straight away" you assure him as he looks up at you briefly
the anticipation is killing you, though you'd never tell him. having him between your thighs, eyes dark while he takes the situation and you in, has you dripping, a soft whine passing your lips as you feel it happen
your boyfriend snaps out of his state of staring at the noise, he sighs gently, happily, before surging forwards. immediately your back arches off of the couch as his lips press against your folds
"fuck, spence," you gasp, fingers tangling into his hair to hold him there. he parts his lips before dragging his tongue up your centre, circling cruelly around your clit, "oh my god," you moan, loudly
this spurs spencer on further, his body pushes up further between your legs, his broad shoulders holding your thighs apart while he eats you out like a starved man, his eyes shut, lashes tickling his cheeks
distantly you wonder if he has done this before but your ability to think leaves you and makes you helpless and completely at spencer's mercy. he pulls away from you, barely, a string of spit connecting him to your cunt.
while he uses his shoulders to keep your thighs spread, his hands become free and you feel them before you see them. his thumb dips over your sticky hole before sliding upwards, bumping against your clit
"please baby, don't tease," you whine, chest heaving and fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him back towards where you need him and he obliges, leaning in to kiss your clit before sucking on it lightly
every moan, whine and whimper that leaves your body has spencer working harder, spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth and over the inside of your thighs as he starts to hum and moan against you
spencer sucks hard on your clit, obscene noises fill the room as he leans into you, one hand on your hip holding you down and the other stroking your thigh, moving far too slowly towards your cunt
you hold your breath, feeling his fingers tease at you, your attempts to clench around the tips of his fingers don't go unnoticed. he gives you what you want slowly, barely pressing a finger into you before pulling away again
"oh god," you whimper, hips rolling underneath his forearm. spencer hums against you, sending vibrations rumbling over your clit , "this is your first time?" you question as your thighs start to shake
"yeah," spencer replies, taking a break to breathe, his eyes focused on his own fingers. without warning he presses a finger into you, his gaze traveling up your body as you cry out and clench around him
"fuck, i'm not going to last," you pant whilst throwing your head back. your nails dig into his shoulder, guiding him back towards your body as heat starts to form in the pits of your stomach
slowly spencer fucks his finger into you, pulling out and pushing back in before adding another, again, without warning. the stretch burns in the best way possible as he works you open
"i love you," spencer mumbles, not giving you a chance to reply as he delves back into you, his tongue lapping over your clit with earnest. your orgasm builds embarrassingly fast, thighs shaking, back arching away from the couch while your brain turns to mush
"oh, fuck, i'm gonna-," you cry out, letting your thighs close around spencer's body, "i'm gonna come baby," you whimper loudly, stomach clenching underneath spencer's arm
he doubles down, fingers speeding up slightly, his knuckles bumping either side of your hole as wet, sticky sounds fill the room, "uh huh," he hums against you and that sends you hurtling over the edge
you come hard, harder than you ever have before, loudly whimpering as your body shakes and your thighs close around spencer's head, trapping him there while you pant, eyes clamped shut
"baby, stop," you almost cry, pulling on spencer's hair to move him away from your body as you start to get overstimulated, "jesus,"
spencer looks incredible, his hair tousled and messy, lips and chin completely soaked with your slick and his cheeks puffed out as he catches his own breath. gently, he slips his fingers from your body, smiling softly to himself as you wrap your own around his wrist
"c'mere," you hum, eyes shutting again as you yank on him, his body toppling down onto of you, his head resting on your chest, "seriously though, that was your first time?"
"yeah," spencer chuckles, his fingers trailing up your rib cage, “definitely won't be the last though,"
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thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!
❥ spencer reid masterlist !!
a/n tell me if you see any mistakes, i proofread but really fuckin badly !! much appreciated and hope ur having a great day, mwah
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keyotosprompts · 3 months
Text
all the time, all of mine ᝰ.ᐟ
affection prompts – tad bit suggestive
⇴ person a misses person b (even though they're right next to each other) so a takes b's leg and pulls it over theirs
⇴ person b is putting their necklace on person a, and stares at them for a hot minute after it's put on. then person b starts leaning into person a and pressing kisses onto their neck.
⇴ "c'mon, you can stay in for five minutes. please?"
⇴ person a is sitting on person b while they are making out when person a feels something below them. cue person b looking up with a sheepish smile while hiding in the crook of person a's neck.
⇴ person b is running their fingers across person a's hair. across their bare back. along their arms. along the back of their thighs. gentle, light touches along their body while person b is is kissing your shoulder.
⇴ "do you like that?" "i like anything you do."
⇴ "c'mere..." and their arms are WIDE OPEN.
⇴ grabbing them by their waist to kiss them. bonus points if the kiss is heated and there's heavy breathing involved.
⇴ thigh in between the legs.
⇴ person b can't get keep their hands off of person a, so they have to be around a all the time. always brushing their teeth together, cooking something together, lying in bed together.
⇴ person a wants to be even closer to person b, so they take their hands under person b's shirt and grabs their chest.
⇴ or... alternatively, person a wants to tease person b with their cold hands, so they go under b's shirt and press their freezing hands on their chest.
⇴ person a and person b are walking together in a busy street and person b holds onto person a's arm just because.
⇴ person b sees person a looking drop dead gorgeous and their first instinct is to go up and (gently) grab person a's face to kiss them. like... person b desperately wants to make out rn.
⇴ "i only want to see you right now. i really miss you." and person a is like "you just saw me yesterday"
⇴ person b is lifting person a's chin up and they brush their thumb across a's cheekbone before person b kisses them.
⇴ holding hands while on a rollercoaster. person a is screaming for their life while person b is gazing at them and trying not to laugh.
⇴ person a and person b are hanging out together, and when they both find something funny, person b wraps their arm around person a's neck and looks down at person a to see their smile.
⇴ staring into each other's eyes while it's completely silence. they don't need words, eye contact is all they need.
⇴ person b lifts up person a while they're hugging.
⇴ person a is so cute that person b has to fight off the urge to start pressing kisses all over their face (person b loses btw)
⇴ "hey, i think i can fit over here in this corner." "what are you, a plant?" "maybe. you shine on me every day, after all."
⇴ "you drool in your sleep," whilst wiping said drool off the other person's face (can u tell i've been hyperfixated on pjo)
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keisobe · 10 months
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── ⋆˙⟡♡ 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 (𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚)
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from spider-man : across the spiderverse (spoiler free!!)
characters. miles morales. miguel o’hara. hobie brown & peter b. parker. + pavitr prabhakar
notes. i quickly wrote this because spiderverse has consumed a lot of my attention (cue the tiktok edits i’ve saved of hobie and miguel). anyways hope i did the characterization accurate enough and hope it was fun to read ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) + not completely proofread
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𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 ❤︎
he’s painfully awkward when it comes to hugging. his limbs don’t know where to wrap around, so they keep flaring everywhere until you end up locking him into one solid hug.
miles is also very respectful of your boundaries, he would do that weird hover hand thing over your waist that would look very off in photos (his hand literally 3 inches away from your shoulder, but a good photo overall).
but when he’s close to you, he would pull you into a protective and warm embrace— especially if he has been worried sick about you. that’s until he pulls away and let’s out a chuckle accompanied with a light scratch on the back of his neck to ease his worries.
“umm… wait— lemme just…”
miles’ arms were bending awkwardly and moving in lightning speed, a nervous smile plastered onto his conflicted features— twitching brows and all.
you huffed at his failed attempt to simply embrace you, so you forcefully hooked your arms around his neck and brought him closer, feeling the softness of his cheek against your forehead and the pacing heartbeat you didn’t know he had.
“it’s fine, it’s just me silly.” you teased into his ear, prompting miles to chuckle at his own awkwardness and to wrap his strong arms around your waist.
“right, it’s you.” he whispered more to himself, leaning down to reach your height and to cutely rest his head in the nape of your neck. “just you.”
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𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 ❤︎
hasn’t been held in so long. he says that he doesn’t do hugs, will probably go into flight-and-fight mode if you even asked for a small embrace. if you’re lucky though, he’ll leave you with a deadly glare and an annoyed huff.
but in the heat of the moment, in the moments of needed comfort, he will be there to give you an embrace. although, his hugs are tight, to the point you have a hard time breathing. it’ll take him a moment to notice that you’re literally breathless and will cough a lousy sorry as compensation for squeezing you to death (but he actually feels bad).
what nobody knows (maybe expect you) is that he prefers hugs that can display his strength. lifting you off from the ground with ease makes him smirk to himself. surprise hugs from the back also avoids the awkwardness of confronting actual romantic contact (it’s also more fun for him).
“what now?” miguel folds his arms impatiently as he watches you dumbly spread your arms out, a determined glint in your eyes.
no response, you simply spread your arms wider. miguel huffs an annoyed laugh and awkwardly comes up to you to embrace you, with a tightness that made you choke for air. then he suddenly lifts you from the floor, making you latch tightly around his neck.
miguel sighs deeply, the irritation that emitted from him suddenly became comfortably warm.
“did you need this hug?” you managed to breathe out, threading your fingers through the loose brown hair in the back of his neck.
“yeah, i really needed it.” miguel mumbles out in embarrassment, tightening his muscular arms around your waist— prompting a weak yet satisfied wheeze from your lips.
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𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 ❤︎
he’s chill with hugs, but he’s very friendly about it. likes to latch an arm on his mates and such— but an immediate sweet embrace you won’t really get (he’s good at reading people, so if you’re vibes are off, he ain’t moving an inch).
he generally prefers to give side hugs, nothing too personal and definitely fits his overall demeanor. match that up with a firm compliment and a friendly pat on the shoulder. but if he’s close to you, he’ll be there patiently with open arms.
then he’s analyzing you closely as you embrace him, listening closely for a change in your heartbeat or any small noise that escapes your mouth. he subtly smells you too and will not forget your scent (will use the same detergent as you right after the embrace). there’s a moment of silence and it’s perfectly comfortable.
“c’mere.” hobie faintly whispers with an expanded arm, his expression unusually soft.
immediately you ran to receive an embrace from his slim body, a wet sniffle muffled into his webbed suit as tears began to pour from your eyes. hobie hovers a calloused hand over your back, thinking for a moment, until he decides that it was fine to do so. he pats the small of your back comfortably, murmuring a song he wrote to soothe your sadness.
“thank you hobie.” you hiccuped, leaning onto his chest. hobie simply nodded, playing with the ends of your hair with a painted finger.
“yea...” he mumbled, noticing that the tears that stained your cheeks before faded and your breathing steadied. “no probs.”
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𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 ❤︎
he’s painfully awkward too. pull him into an embrace, he will let out an uncomfortable chuckle as he carefully pries you off his body. peter makes it obvious he wants his space, rightfully so.
actually, head pats is something he prefers to give. it’s comforting for him to be able to teasingly mess your hair to get a whine from you, or feel the texture of your hair under his palms. also, he’s an old man (will feel extremely insulted if you say his comforting technique is equivalent to that of an elderly folk).
but if he’s close with you or there is a moment when an embrace is desperately needed, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull you into a deep embrace. due to his new plushness to his body and rarity of his soft affection, peter’s embraces feel warm and inviting. sorry though, it’ll only last a few seconds until he’s pulling away immediately (will give up if you pull him back into the embrace tho).
“there, there kiddo…” peter softly pats your head, poorly attempting to cool your temper.
“not working peter.”
peter sighs in defeat as he slowly retracted his hand, thinking of a solution to cheer you up. without a second thought, he quickly pulled you into an embrace with efficient strength— the softness of his stomach contrasted the hardness of his chest. immediately you light up, nuzzling into his warm arms as he playfully swayed your body side-to-side.
“better?” he chuckled at your dazed expression, maybe hugging wasn’t so bad.
“yeah…” you could hear the slow patters of his heartbeat as he tightened the protective hold around your waist.
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cassiopeiasdaughter · 8 months
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Hiiii pretty star,
Me again.
📝Can I get a little something with Theo and the prompt cuddles after being touch starved? I feel that with his mother gone and his father being who he is, Theodore deserves all the love and snuggles in this world. Thank you 🤍
"My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I'm covered in you"
Theodore Nott, despite popular belief -mostly his-, was easy to love. Your relationship was still fresh, you two were slowly getting to know eachother; favorite hobbies, habits. And most importantly, each-others love language. 
Your favorite way to love someone is by touching them. Kisses, holding hands, looping your arm around them, playing with their hair; that is how you show love, and it is how you show Theo you love him.
He however is not used to that. You had suspected so one day, when you two were walking, casually talking to eachother about your day; out of habit you grabbed Theos hand, lacing your fingers together. His hand tensed at first, as if he was entirely unfamiliar with this feeling, and lost his train of thought, mumbling words and excuses until he grew used to your touch and picked up the conversation from where he left it.
Your suspicion was confirmed one night. You were tired and stressed; homework was piling up, quidditch practice was more constant and you had taken up way too many extracurricular activities. You ran straight to Theos dorm, needing the comfort of his presence to ground you, calm you, help you recharge your energy and get ready for the days to come. 
You found him in his bed, with a book you had recommended to him, in his hands. You quickly walked towards him and he greeted you, lifting his eyes from the pages, “Hello.”, he said with smile “Hi.”, you mumbled back, way too tired to pretend you weren’t. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked as you changed out of your clothes and into an old sweatshirt of his. 
“Exhausting day. Exhausting week.”, you replied with a deep sigh and then settled next to him in his bed.
You rested your head in the crook of his neck and looped your arm around his shoulder, breathing him in “I want to stay here forever.” , you mumbled with your eyes closed.
But, instead of a kiss on your forehead or his arm hugging your back you felt him grow tense and his heart beating really fast against his ribcage. You raised your head worried, and looked at his face “I- am I crashing you?”
“Ah- no…no, this is new to me, that's all.”, he quickly said nervously
“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t think-“, you exclaimed and moved your body off to give him space.
He stopped you, quickly and guided you back in his arms, “No, don’t go, I like it.” he whispered in your hair. His body was more comfortable now, moulding into yours, his muscles weren’t tense anymore and his limbs shifted to keep you close to him.
“Stay.”, he whispered in your hair and you let yourself close your eyes, and drift off, finally able to relax, in the arms of the person you craved all week.
After that night he simply couldn’t let you go. His hand is always clasped in yours, or settled in the small of your back or around your shoulders. He kisses your forehead goodnight and greets you with a peck on the lips every morning. And his favorite; whenever life feels heavy, he will lay on your chest and let you play with his hair, causing him to forget all his troubles.
He is learning how to love and be loved and his favorite thing is that he is learning with you.
fin 🤎
celebrate my academic hardships & Theodore Nott masterlist
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kamiversee · 2 months
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 2 || They're all... hot?
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & smut.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——GOJO'S LIPS FINALLY PRESS into yours. The pathetic hum that leaves you furthers your lingering feeling of embarrassment. Shame is overflowing you as Gojo's soft lips slide over your own. His hand is still around your neck and he won't allow you to move away from him for even a second.
The sensation of his lips parting over your own, your bottom lip getting caught and pulled by his teeth, and the abrupt entry of Gojo's tongue into your mouth has goosebumps rising against the surface of your skin. It's a slow kiss at first, Gojo takes his time licking at the corners of your mouth, taking in the taste of you and savoring the moment of you squirming slightly.
You feel shy as you kiss him back since it's been so long since you've last felt such a connection. His lips are like soft pillows against yours and his tongue is wet and warm in your mouth, a strong mint flavor noticeable as you make out with Gojo.
From your neck to your waist, Gojo moves his hand, soon guiding your smaller body closer to his. His hands are so big-- long and slim pale fingers pressing into the fabric of your small tank top as his mouth works over your own. Gojo's kisses are slow, and tender, almost like he wants to marinate into the feeling of your lips.
When he does pull away from you, his eyes pry open ever so slightly and his gaze is met with a sight that causes his cock to twitch within his pants. Not only are you the sexiest thing he thinks he's ever laid eyes on but when you suddenly move to wrap your arms around his neck, push up on your tippy toes, and initiate the next kiss, Gojo loses his mind.
It's cute the way you have to force yourself up to reach him, attractive how your lips open in expectation of his tongue, and infatuating the way your body feels against his. Gojo can feel everything-- your hard nipples pressed against his chest, the rapid beating of your heart, and the desperation in the way you kiss him.
Your actions are enough to make the man almost feral. His eyes flutter shut again and he suddenly begins to kiss you harder. Air is forgotten as lust sparks between you two. Gojo bends down a little and you feel his hands go to your thighs before he lifts you up into his arms.
You move your hands into his hair, still kissing him as though your life depended on it and feeling the soft strands of white hair brush in between your fingers.
What was once a slow and tender kiss is now a sloppy and aggressive one. Sounds of wet lips moving along one another fill your ears while it feels like Gojo is slurping the taste out of your mouth.
The man wastes not another second as he walks over to your bedroom door with you in his arms, kicks the door shut, and then carries you to your bed. He's gentle as he lays you down, his lips refusing to leave your own just yet. The second your body is laid down and Gojo's looms over your own, you can feel his hardened cock press into your clothed sex, the sudden contact prompting a moan to leave you.
"Mgh," You hum, the sound leading Gojo to pull away from you.
Both of your mouths are still open and his tongue is visible with a string of saliva still hanging down to your bottom lip. Gojo looks absolutely starved, as if another second without the feeling of you would kill him. Beneath low lids is the darkened gaze that Gojo couldn't even control anymore.
Gojo pants lightly, "Hah... fuck." He groans lowly. He then says your name in a tone that gives you butterflies, his voice on the brink of pure desperation.
You swallow, "Hm?"
"Touch yourself." Gojo suddenly orders.
"W-What?" You breathe, your brows drawing together.
The corner of his lips pull into a smirk. "You heard me. I said touch yourself." Gojo repeats to you.
He then moves his hands, taking your wrists and pulling your arms down from around his neck. Gojo pins one of your arms up over your head and releases the other, tilting his head as he peers down at you.
"Show me how you do it," He whispers, his voice heavy in his arousal.
You're too horny to feel embarrassed about it anymore so you bring your one free hand down to your sweats, shifting to remove the item. You struggle at first but Gojo ends up helping you and the lower half of your body is exposed to him once more.
His eyes are glued to the exposure of your wet cunt and his hungry stare alone makes you throb. You carefully move your hand down your sex and touch yourself slowly, running a finger over your clit before slipping it into yourself. You look down at your actions, shifting your attention away from Gojo out of shyness.
Gojo looks at your face, noticing where your attention has gone and he gives you a cocky smirk. "Look at me." He directs.
You have to swallow down all your shyness but you manage to look at the man. The eye contact feeds into your arousal and you finger yourself slowly the two of you hold each other's intense gaze.
After a few thrusts of your fingers, Gojo tuts and shakes his head. "You poor thing." He suddenly voices, "You can't even please yourself correctly."
You clench around your fingers at his words and your thighs threaten to close. Naturally, Gojo doesn't allow you to do so and he lets go of your pinned hand. He grabs your thighs, spreading your legs nice and wide for himself and causing your breath to stutter as those lust-filled blue eyes never leave your face.
"Want me to help you?" Gojo utters with a playful look on his expression. Your head nods in response and he bites down on his bottom lip. "Say please." He requests.
Your voice is small, "Please...?"
The simple word feeds into his ego but, he still plans on taunting and teasing you. You feel his hand lift from your thigh and ghost over your smaller one, soon drawing your fingers out of yourself and raising them to his lips.
He then looks you dead in the eyes as he slides your delicate digits into his mouth, sucking the moisture from your cunt off your skin. Another throb is felt from in between your legs in reaction to the sight. Gojo slides his tongue in between your fingers, the feeling of the wet muscle licking up everything from you adding to the heated feeling of your hormones.
Gojo pulls your hand out of his mouth and saliva is seen hanging. "Say it again," He whispers out in a low tone.
"P-Please," You utter desperately.
He'd only done so little and you could already feel liquids of arousal seeping out of you with each second that passed. You were a wet mess, your body was hot and you were so horny that it was beginning to frustrate you.
He gives you a very satisfied smirk and after one last lick to your fingertips, he releases your hand. Gojo hovers over you, propping his body up with his arm as his other hand moves from your thigh to your heat. Teasing you seems to be his only goal as his slender digits merely rub over your cunt.
"Wow," Gojo scoffs, "I barely did anything to you and you're soaked..." He tilts his head and his smirk is wide, "How pathetic."
He then pushes one long finger into you and you gasp. Gojo shifts down to your neck and despite his harsh words to you, his lips are careful against your skin while he pumps one finger in and out of you. The feeling of his teeth sinking into the side of your neck makes you squirm and you practically spasm when he shoves a second finger inside you.
Sounds of your slick coating his fingers as he thrusts them in and out of you at a steady pace can be heard. Gojo's all over your neck, kissing, sucking, and biting at your skin-- never leaving any marks but simply adding to the pleasure you feel.
"Aah," You moan softly when he abruptly bites down on you harder and curls his fingers inside you.
Gojo then trails kisses downward, trailing wet pecks against your tense skin all the way down to your collarbone. His eyes flicker up to yours as he twirls his fingers inside you, watching closely for your reaction. A whine leaves you and Gojo grins.
He then continues his trail of kisses, going as far as kissing over the top of your shirt and on your chest. You're not wearing a bra so you're not too surprised when you feel Gojo suck on your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. It's a firm suck, pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth as his fingers pick up the pace of their thrusts within you.
You move an arm over your lips and moan into it, your sounds growing louder and louder as Gojo works to please you.
The suddenly slightly sharp feeling of his teeth giving your nipple a tug makes your eyes go wide and a whimper leaves you. "F-Fuck," You gasp in shock.
Gojo lifts his head a little, "Move your arm," He directs, his gaze firm. "I wanna hear those desperate little moans of yours."
At first, you don't move, prompting Gojo to slide his thumb over your clit and press down into it. You practically choke on air as you remove your arm from over your mouth. For a second time, your legs begin to draw together and your back aches up off the bed a little. Gojo's thumb starts drawing circles over your clit and the thrusting of his two fingers increases.
"Gojo-," You just barely moan out.
The male kisses over your breast, pretty azure eyes peering at the expression on your face as you get closer to an orgasm. "Call me Satoru," He corrects before moving to swirl his tongue over your clothed nipple once more.
The mix of pleasure you get from his mouth moving over the fabric of your thin tank top is odd. His gaze is so intense and his fingers are working against your insides in ways you don't think you could physically ever do.
You bite down on your lower lip as Gojo's fingers massage your insides, the tips of his fingers kneading into you while his thumb slips over your clit in a way that has your body twitching.
"S-Satoru," You call out, feeling as your climax approaches.
He tilts his head and pulls his mouth away from your chest, "There you go, say my name juuust like that." Gojo coos.
A quivering of your lower lip catches his eyes and he notices the way small whines leave you. "Fuck," You breathe out, "I'm gonna cum..."
The man suddenly leans up away from your chest completely. His gaze drops to the sight of his fingers plunging in and out of you and he moves a hand to palm his erection. A hitched breath leaves him and you can see how needy his face is as he admires the way his digits look sliding into you.
Gojo was so hard that it was beginning to hurt. "C'mon you slut, make a mess of my fingers." He orders huskily.
You allow your eyes to close and one last moan to leave you as you come undone moments after his words are heard. Gojo simply watches you with a satisfied expression while he strokes you through it.
"That's itt," He murmurs. His fingers then slide out of you and he again licks them clean, piercing blue eyes refusing to ever leave your face.
With a sigh, Gojo hops out of the bed and suddenly pulls his phone out of his pocket. You take a minute to get your breathing in check but when you do, your sights go to the man immediately. Anxiety settles within you when you notice his clean hand tapping over his screen and you worry he may have recorded you for a second time.
Your mouth opens to say something about it but you're cut off by Gojo turning his phone off and placing it on your nightstand. His body swivels around to you and he quickly removes his shirt.
"Relax. I was texting Shoko." Gojo assures you. His large hand slides down his body, your gaze following, until he reaches the drawstring on his sweatpants and pulls. "Told her I'd take a bit longer than expected." He says slyly.
You scoff. Words would've left you to respond to him but you were much too busy gawking at his body. God damn, his chest is sculpted to perfection. You can see each cut and crease to his abs and the lower your gaze goes, the quicker you find yourself staring at the single vein trailing down into his sweats and his v-line prominently following that same trail.
It'd be an understatement to say you were drooling from only your mouth. This is the same man who's wanted you for months? Why the hell didn't you notice sooner??
Gojo breaks you out of your daze when he finds himself in the bed again. Now you're looking up into his eyes. "Spread your legs." He voices out lowly.
Your legs spread on his command, wide and mildly desperate eyes focused up on his lustful blue ones. Gojo can't help but smile once he notices your shyness has slightly faded away. He props himself up on one arm again, his other working the lower half of his clothes off.
The eye contact between you two seems to never end. At least, not until he leans down to your ear, "I love girls like you," Gojo whispers, his hands working his throbbing cock out of his boxers, "Always acting so innocent even though this is all you want, right?"
"Hm?" You hum cluelessly in response.
Arms move to go around his neck and you tingle when you suddenly feel the tip of his dick press against your wet folds. Gojo smiles, "Don't act shy now. After all, you fantasized about this."
Your mouth opens but instead of words leaving you, a staggered breath is heard as Gojo rubs his length over your cunt. He's still teasing you even though he's far more eager than he lets on.
The feeling of his lips against your ear while he continues to taunt you with his words only furthers your anticipation. "Shit, look at you now. You want me inside so bad, don't you?" Gojo teases.
With an impatient roll of your eyes, you turn your head to look at him and he seems shocked by your bold gaze.
"Yeah, I do." You whisper to the man, lowering your sights down to his lips and using your grasp around his neck to pull him closer. "Stop talking and fuck me, Satoru."
"So demanding..." He murmurs with a smirk of genuine entertainment smeared across his face.
Gojo wastes no more time as he realigns himself and pushes his cock inside you. The feeling has you gasping and tightening your hold on Gojo in a matter of seconds. Your stomach only churns as the man's length fills you up and he lets out a deep groan in satisfaction-- blue eyes rolling ever so slightly.
Gojo's expression is tensed as he stares down into your eyes. "Fuck, you're so tight," He whispers breathlessly.
A brief smile graces your face and you swear you're in heaven when you hear Gojo moan above you, his dick stuffed deep inside you. His lips brush over your own and for someone who said you moan like a pornstar... his moans were nothing short of slutty and pornographic.
His position has shifted slightly, large body looming over yours and his veiny hands going to your legs to spread them impossibly wider. "Agh... I could cum just looking at you." Gojo groans as he works up a steady pace.
"So soon?" You manage out teasingly.
He scoffs, pulling almost every inch of his aching cock out before thrusting it right back into you. Your little comment goes baseless as moans begin to leave your lips.
Gojo's smirking all too widely. "Don't tease me," He utters, lips ghosting your own for a second.
Despite his words, his eyes were filled with utter desperation. Even as Gojo thrusts into the very depths of your cunt and listened to the sweet moans that left your lips, his expressions couldn't help but reveal how pleasing he found everything.
His gaze trails down your face, capturing the image of your wet parted lips. The sudden urge to kiss you grew strong and Gojo pushed his lips into your own almost lovingly-- the tender gesture meaning nothing as he starts fucking into you rougher.
Gojo's hands are griping into the plush of the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs nice and wide so that he can continue constantly shoving his cock into you despite the way you clench around him. The kiss you share is broken when you feel his tip caress this gummy spot within you, prompting your lips to break from his in a moan.
"S-Satoru," You call out, your brows tensely furrowed as moans follow the man's name in desperation.
His head tilts to the side and you think you see stars for a second when Gojo continues drilling his cock into your sopping hole. He's admiring your facial expression, breathing heavily above you while loving the sweet sound of his name leaving your throat.
"Can't take it?" Gojo teases with the slightest smile on his face.
Before you get the chance to answer his question, he leans his body up slightly and readjusts your legs. An orgasm is drawn out of you the very second one of your legs is tossed over his shoulders and his length mashes impossibly deeper into you.
He slows for only a second to speak to you. "Go on, get nice and loud f'me," Gojo groans one last time before harshly thrusting into you.
To make matters worse, Gojo shifts a hand over the bulge of his tip poking at your skin. Your body is already being jerked back and forth by his pounding and you're slowly fading into this cockdrunk stupor.
As if to follow his instructions, you do in fact get louder, your back just barely arching off the soft mattress and more prominent whiney moans leaving you. Hell, you straight-up whimper when Gojo's hand gives that stomach bulge a slight push.
His moist rosy lips spread into a satisfied smirk, "Shit-, look how deep inside you I am..." Gojo points out purposefully, his words causing your cunt to flutter around his cock.
"Mmgh... S' too d-deep..." You babble, your eyes flickering to the back of your head.
Gojo's arm squeezes around your leg and he only fucks his length into your puffy folds harder. Cocking his head to the side with that awfully attractive smirk on his face, "I don't think m' deep enough," Gojo hums.
He swats his thumb down to your clit and your entire body spasms, instinctively reaching a hand down to move him away. Your fingers are shaking as you try to push his hand off your sensitive bud but all your efforts are useless.
"Move your hand," Gojo scoffs, "C'mon, I know a pretty slut like you can take this much."
You shake your head and whine, "I c-can't-, fuck... mmh, 's too much Toru..."
The nickname catches him entirely off guard. It wasn't like you called him that on purpose either, you just mumbled out as much of his name as you could, unable to speak properly by this point. Gojo had already managed to make you come twice, the fact almost embarrassing to think about since you could hardly do much on your own.
Gojo's hips snap forward a bit harsher than he intends to, the reaction fueled by the overwhelming amount of lust that little nickname you choked out invoked from him. He's full-on panting heavily now with a tense expression on his face as he focuses in on pummeling his stupidly large cock into you.
He's got you sputtering out broken and stuttered moans, water pricking the corner of your eyes while the bed below rocks with his every thrust. You think you lose it when Gojo mewls out the sweetest and yet filthiest sound you've heard from him thus far.
Gojo whines, loud and unapologetically.
The sound alone makes you come undone for a third time. "A-Ah... S-Shit..." Gojo mutters. His head tosses back and you relish in the almost angelic sight of the man-- sweat dripping down his chest and his Adam's apple on full display.
"Been wantin' to fuck you for s' long..." Gojo groans, a slight pitch heard through his voice. "I need you to take all of me," He coos, tipping his head back down to meet your teary eyes. "Oh f-fuck, you can do that, right?" He heaves.
You wish you could've played it off and shook your head yes but you really couldn't. You're clamping around his dick every time he pushes into you and you even try pulling your body away from his to catch a break. This motion only makes it even worse for you though.
Gojo drops your leg when you suddenly shake your head no and he lets out a breathy laugh as you try pulling away from his thrusts. His hands latch onto your hips and he tugs your body to meet his hips.
He only does that for a moment though, hastily leaning down to your ear while his thrusts grow sloppy. He hisses sharply and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head. "F-Fucking hell..." Gojo moans. "M' gonna cum, shit... gonna cum inside you," He tells you.
Your body tenses up and you wrap both your arms and legs around the man, not to encourage his words but just to keep him close to you. "You c-can't.." You whisper in response.
Gojo turns his head so that his lips are up against the crown of your ear, his cock twitching as he strokes your insides aggressively. "I need to. F-Fuck... needa' fill this filthy little cunt," He groans, voice husky and needy.
His length has you feeling full already, easily slipping in and out of you due to your excessive back-to-back release. Even though you told him he couldn't, you're constantly squeezing around him like you want him to. Gojo's moaning in your ear at this point, beyond obsessed with the way you keep sucking him back in.
"Toru' please, I-," Your voice dies out as you moan again, Gojo having pulled almost all the way out and then slamming right back in.
Gojo shifts down to your neck and kisses you briefly. "Lemme cum inside," He requests, another core throbbing whine leaving him. "Hah, a-ah... s-shit, please," He mumbles.
Your nails scratch at his back but, you end up giving in and nodding your head, his seed soon spilling into you. Gojo continued on a bit longer, practically fucking his cum into you until he finally comes to a stop.
The air is still, soft sounds of the two of you panting are heard through your bedroom. Gojo has half a mind to go for another round but, given your tired state, he decides to give you a break.
After a few minutes, the man eventually gets off you and heads to the nearest bathroom-- not bothering to ask you where it is since he seems to have known already.
You're left feeling... content and yet mushy at the same time.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You wait for a bit for Gojo to return to you but you notice he takes quite a while.
Eventually, you sit up and lazily glance in the direction of the bathroom, rubbing your mildly teary eyes. With a clearing of your throat, "Satoru?" You call out.
There's no response.
You worry, panic even.
Could he be doing something? Shit, maybe he did record you...
Maybe he's in the bathroom trying to post or send his video of you...
The second you go to swing your legs off the bed, Gojo walks out of the bathroom, a relaxed expression etched onto his handsome features. He quirks an eyebrow in response to the little glare you have on your face.
"Somethin' wrong?" Gojo asks, smiling lazily.
Your eyes scan his body-- he's still naked but now cleaned of all your remnants. You searched for his phone but his hands were empty and he just looked concerned.
Your scrutiny is interrupted when Gojo steps closer and moves a hand to your jaw, fingers pressing into your skin and forcing your head up. "You really think I'm gonna record you again, don't you?" Gojo quires.
Your head shakes in denial. "No..."
"Thennn why'd you look at my hands?"
"I just... Uhm..." You struggle for an excuse, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.
Gojo finds you adorable. That look of worry in your eyes, the tiny pout on your lips, and the faint fucked out expression going across your features. "You just what? Hm?" He teases, shifting his thumb to your lower lip. "Wanna feel more of my hands? Is that it?" Gojo teases.
You stare up at him blankly, eyes wide as you try to figure out how to respond to him. "N-No..." You mumble.
He flashes you a smile and weighs your bottom lip down, leaning his face closer to yours, "I can give you more if you want."
An innocent head shake is given to him and he lets out a soft laugh. He lifts to place a kiss to your forehead, "Alright then c'mon, let's get you cleaned up."
You give him a little nod, thankful that he's leaving you alone for now.
In the bathroom, Gojo's teasing you while he cleans you off, throwing you silly remarks when he goes to grab you some new clothes. He's not as bad to be around when he's not blackmailing you and you find yourself smiling a little more than you expected to.
You end up in his shirt after a mini-debate with the man.
"But look how cute you are in it," Gojo compliments. He's leaning his large build against the doorframe of your bathroom, watching you tug at the end of his shirt as if to pull it down more. He's got his sweats back on but he's admiring you in his shirt.
You shoot him a glare, "Don't you need this back anyway? You have to leave."
He chuckles, "Do I?"
"Uhm, yes? Did you forget about Shoko??" You ask him.
Gojo rolls his eyes and shrugs you off. "She'll be fine."
"I..." You sigh and shake your head. "Whatever. Since you're staying longer can you tell me who's on the list now?"
He stands still for a long moment, debating on whether or not he wants to give the list to you yet. After a pause and a shrug, "How about I show you what they look like? Then I'll give you the name of whoever you wanna go after next." Gojo muses with a little grin.
You scrunch up your face. Why can't he just be simple? Another sigh is breathed out from you, "Fine." You hum.
With a nod, Gojo pushes off the door frame and goes to grab his phone. He returns a few minutes later and extends the device out for you. "There's about... six guys. Just swipe through and you'll see." He informs you.
You blink. "Six? I have to sleep with six guys?"
Gojo chuckles, "Well not at the same time... Unless of course, you're-"
"No."
"Alright then relax, you can take as long as you want with each." He tells you with a sweet tone.
You stare for a second, nearly losing yourself in his ridiculously pretty blue eyes. With a slight shake of your head, you look down at the phone, eyes widening with the first male.
You admire him for a second but you're quick to swipe to the next. Each man on the phone is... ridiculously attractive. According to Gojo they all go to your school or have something to do with it so you're surprised you've never seen or heard of these men before.
"Holy shit." You breathe, glancing up to Gojo. He's not smiling like normal but he looks interested in what you have to say. "Why didn't you tell me they were all hot?!" You huff.
He scoffs, "You didn't ask."
"I-," Your eyes roll, "Right. Anyways, I wanna try this guy," You say as you turn the phone to him, your choice of words making it seem as though the men were food or objects for you to pick from.
Gojo smiles at the man on the phone. "Y'know of all the guys there, you chose someone that might actually be easy for you."
Your eyes light up, "Really?"
He nods, "Mhm, that's my best friend."
"Oh... W-Wait," You flip the phone back to yourself and narrow your eyes. "This is the guy that comes over with you sometimes?!"
Gojo's smile is continuous as he peers down at you. Every little thing you say or do is so enamoring to him. "Yeah, that's Suguru." He hums.
"And I get to fuck this guy?" You say almost excitedly."Well, he doesn't sleep around with just anyone but for you..." Gojo tilts his head to the side and ogles your body, "Yeah, I'd say he's probably at a medium difficulty level..."
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
Text
cherry trees | S.R.
You find Spencer reading some... interesting poetry.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: breeding kink, unprotected piv sex, mentions of ovulation, pregnancy, fingering, d/s dynamic if you squint, nipple play, mating press, spencer reads erotic poetry, aftercare word count: 3.07k a/n: i have no explanation for myself. the poetry in this is all neruda, if you're interested in it. also this is only one interpretation of that poem but it worked for the plot. i still think im bad at writing smut but i liked this idea so much that i had to.
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Peering over at your boyfriend from the kitchen, you filled your glasses with the wine that Rossi had gifted you and returned to Spencer in the living room. His nose was buried in a book, which wasn’t new in the slightest. What piqued your interest was the fact that he had covered the book he was reading. Both the front and back covers had been disguised with brown paper, preventing you from reading the title of the book.
You set his wine glass on his coaster before sitting down next to him, keeping your glass in your hands. “What are you reading?” You asked quietly as you tucked your feet beneath you.
“Poems,” he answered, “be done in a minute.” He adjusted his hands so that he was holding the book with one hand and resting the other hand on your thigh, absentmindedly rubbing your bare skin with the pad of his thumb.
Surprisingly enough, Spencer was a touchy guy for someone who hated germs, but you supposed he trusted you enough. You lived together, you weren’t married, but the two of you never seemed bothered by that fact. “Take your time,” you responded, Spencer reading poetry took about as long as it took you to look through a pamphlet.
He said nothing in response, completely enthralled in the book.
Standing up, you let his hand fall from your thigh, “I’m going to go change,” you said, leaning over and kissing the top of his head, noting the way he hid the pages of the book from your view.
Shedding your work clothes, you changed into pajamas, throwing a sweatshirt over your tank top before returning to the living room.
Spencer had shifted positions on the couch, “Are you alright?” You asked him, hesitantly walking over to him. From the looks of it, he was on the same page he was on when you left.
He didn’t answer, prompting you to narrow your eyes, and reached over and plucked the book from his hands, “Hey!” He said reaching out for the book, but you lifted it just barely out of his reach, and he didn’t seem like he wanted to stand. Instead, he reached out for you, pulling you down onto his lap so that your legs were on either side of his lap.
You felt it before you saw it. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your core, allowing your gaze to flicker up to his book that you were still holding. “Spencer, are you reading smut?” You asked, amusement clear in your voice.
“Technically, they’re called erotic poems,” he answered very matter-of-factly.
Grinning, you opened the book, “Oh, what a gentleman, reading his porn instead of watching it.” Briefly, you looked at the book, “’Of everything I have seen, it’s you I want to go on seeing’-“
Spencer squeezed your waist, “What will it take for you to stop?”
“’Of everything I’ve touched, it’s your flesh I want to go on touching,’” you continued anyway, leaning over his shoulder so you continue reading the book. Spencer took the opportunity to press gentle kisses up the side of your neck before focusing on the soft spot behind your ear, eliciting a soft moan from you.
You were well aware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend, feeling his dick twitch beneath you as you read to him.
Attempting to ignore the fact that Spencer had slipped his hands underneath your sweatshirt, touching your bare skin only at the sliver of skin between your tank top and your shorts. “’I love your orange laughter. I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.’” You read softly.
“Can I have my book back now?” He asked, his voice was an octave lower and his grip on your waist tightened, prompting you to grind your hips into him, “fuck, baby.”
Once Spencer started cursing, you were already past the point of no return. “What in this book got you so hard, huh? What were you thinking about doing to me?” You pulled away slightly and looked at him, his pupils dilated, and lips parted. “’License my roving hands, and let them go before, behind, above, below.’”
Spencer groaned and you knew you had hit your mark, he reached behind his head, trying to grab the book from your hands, but you stood up and backed away from him. “Stop there, baby. Okay?” He pleaded, causing you to flip the page.
“’I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses,” You whispered, reading intently from the page. You could see why Spencer was so enamored with the words, you found yourself falling into the same rabbit hole. “Is this about...?” You started, but you couldn’t finish it.
He sighed exasperatedly, “I will do anything for you to forget I was interested in this.” He said, looking at you from the other side of the coffee table.
Intently, you eyed the next line in the poem, I want to do with you what Spring does with the cherry trees. “Is this what you want?” You asked him in earnest, “Do you want to do with me what the Spring does with the cherry trees?” You were breathing heavily as he scrambled to stand up. Walking backward away from him, you lifted the book back up and turned to the next page, “’I have scarcely left you, when you go in me, crystalline, or trembling, or uneasy, wounded by me, or overwhelmed with love, as when your eyes…’” you gasped as the book was swiftly knocked to the ground.
Backed into the wall, your gaze narrowed as Spencer caged you against the wall with one arm on either side of you. “I asked you to stop reading,” he murmured, ducking his head to attach his lips to your neck, following the column of your throat.
“If you wanted to knock me up so badly, all you needed to do was ask,” you spoke to him lowly, a small, throaty noise escaping your lips as his hands moved to creep up your sweatshirt.
Spencer hummed before pulling away from you just enough to pull the extra fabric over your head, placing his lips on yours as soon as he could. Your hands frantically tried to undo his tie, pulling on the silky fabric before tossing it to the floor and starting to work on the buttons of his shirt. “Needy,” he teased as he pulled away slightly to help you with his shirt.
You leaned back up to kiss him once his shirt was off, shuddering as his hand slid down your front, slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts and rubbing you over your panties, “Fuck, Spence.”
Grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, he pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side and circled your entrance with one finger at a tantalizingly slow pace. “You’re so wet,” he whispered, pressing his finger into your wet hole. “If you wanted me to knock you up so badly, you should’ve just asked,” he taunted.
Your walls clenched around his finger; it wasn’t enough – you needed more of him. He was turning this into a battle of wills, and your resolve was fading fast. Spencer tracked your cycle better than you did, but you did know you were ovulating. He knew it too.
“I want to hear you ask,” he said, slowly withdrawing his finger from your cunt before pushing two back in.
A small whimper slipped through your mouth, “Spence, ‘m ovulating,” you breathed, gasping for air as he thrust his fingers into you. You leaned your head forward onto him, landing on his bare chest.
“Why do you think I was reading those poems?” He asked.
Groaning, you muffled your moans in his chest, “You want to breed me? You want to-“ Your voice broke off into a yelp as he firmly pressed his thumb against your clit. “Do what the Spring does to the cherry trees. Fuck me, please. Come in me,” you begged mindlessly, any remaining willpower fading away as your orgasm built.
You whimpered as Spencer withdrew his fingers from your pussy. “Poor baby,” he whispered, “you need to be bred that badly?”
“Yes,” you answered breathlessly, grinning as Spencer crouched down to place his hands on the backs of your thighs, lifting your feet from the ground to move you to your bedroom.
He sat you down gently on the edge of the bed, pulling away from you and tugging your tank top over your head. You took the initiative to shuffle further onto the bed, watching intently as Spencer unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his boxers as he clambered onto the bed and hovered over you.
Lifting your head up slightly, you kissed him. It was gentle at first, but lust took over and the two of you grew frantic. Spencer moved his head, leaving big wet kisses down your neck before turning his attention to your breasts. Enveloping your peaked nipple in his mouth, he gently nipped at it with his teeth as his other hand rose to your unattended breast, pinching the small bud with his index finger and thumb.
Your hips inadvertently bucked up, just for them to be pushed back down by Spencer’s as he expertly continues his ministrations on your chest. It took all of your remaining focus to grind up into him, desperate for some kind of friction.
Spencer pulled his mouth from your breast and looked at you, holding your gaze as he tugged at your panties and pulled them off, carefully guiding your legs as he did so. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he whispered. “You’ve got that little glint in your eye, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”
“You have such a dirty mouth,” you tell him, still trying to steady your breathing. You looked down at him, kneeling between your legs, his brown eyes were completely lust-blown. You gasped as your boyfriend returned his fingers to your core, “Please.”
He hummed in response, slipping two fingers into your dripping heat as he watched your every reaction. Then, as if you had forgotten his intentions, he placed a hand on your abdomen and he started thrusting his fingers in and out of you, eliciting a moan from your lips.
Turning your head into the pillows, you reached around for something – anything – to grab as the orgasm you had been chasing all night finally approached. “Babe… come…” You managed to squeak out as your walls clenched around his fingers.
“Come for me, come on my fingers, baby,” he encouraged the climax out of you, and you knew he relished the way your eyes rolled back and your back arched off of the sheets. “Good girl,” he praised you softly, working you through your orgasm, his fingers moving at a slower pace.
Once you caught your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows, smiling dazedly at him. You reached out and pawed at his boxers, “Off, please.” You said simply, your grin expanding as he maneuvered and removed the last remaining layer.
His pink cock stood at attention before you and you found yourself subconsciously biting your lip at the sight of it. “Tell me what you want,” he spoke lowly, reaching over to the other side of the bed and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips off of the mattress and placing the pillow beneath them.
Your cheeks flushed, “Want you to fuck me.”
“Is that all?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at you suspiciously as he reached down to your cunt, gathering your slick on his fingers and using it to pump his cock.
Any and all resolve had gone completely out the window as you watched his hand move up and down his length, “Want you to breed me.” You told him earnestly, “Get me pregnant, put a baby in me. I-“ You paused for a moment, meeting his eyes carefully, “I want to have a baby with you, Spencer.”
That seemed to be enough for him as Spencer gently rubbed the tip up and down your slit before gently pushing in. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered to you softly, “like you were made for me.”
Once he had wholly sheathed himself inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust and you savored the way you throbbed around him. “Move,” you breathed.
Swiftly, he hooked his arms beneath your knees and leaned over you, effectively folding you in half and pressing his cock impossibly deep into your cunt. Slowly, he pulled out halfway before pushing his hips back into yours, finding a rhythm.
“You’re so deep,” you whimpered. It was some inexplicable feeling; you could feel him everywhere. Inhaling sharply when he pulled out almost entirely before snapping them back into you, continuing that quick pace. “Harder,” you murmured, the only confirmation that he had heard you being the fact that he had begun pounding into you.
He let out a moan and you clenched around him in an attempt to encourage him to be vocal, “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” He continued his pace, lifting himself up so that he could run his hand down your body, “You’ll be so pretty pregnant with our baby.” He dropped one of your legs, opening your core ever so slightly more.
Your hips lifted up to meet his as he massaged one of your breasts with his free hand, “Come in me, make me a mommy,” you whispered, getting closer to your own orgasm as well.
Spencer’s hand dropped to your clit, rubbing small circles as he continued ruining your pussy. His rhythm staggered slightly, and his head dropped to the crook of your neck, groaning into your sweaty skin as he spilled his seed into you.
The heat of his cum in you hurtled you toward your second orgasm, bringing your hand to your mouth and biting the knuckle of your index finger as you came. You felt your tunnel spasming around Spencer’s now half-hard cock, unable to control any of it as your vision spun slightly.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly, pressing gentle kisses to your neck as he stayed still, effectively keeping his seed inside of you.
You nodded slowly, still trying to catch your breath.
He lifted himself up slightly, “Words, please.” He whispered to you, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from your face.
Nodding again, you took a deep breath, “I’m good. Forgot to breathe.” Your voice was quiet as you reached your arms around Spencer, the aftershocks of your orgasm making their way through you. Softly, you skimmed your palms over Spencer’s back.
“Fuck, don’t do that,” he said, referring to the inadvertent clenching of his length. “I’ll get hard again.”
You hummed as if that wasn’t the worst thing in the world, rolling your hips up into his and gasping at the friction on your oversensitive heat. “Then let’s better our odds,” you whispered, resting your head back on the pillows and biting your lip as you noticed Spencer growing hard again while still inside you.
He moved slightly inside of you, pressing himself tightly inside of your pussy, “You’re going to be the death of me.” He whispered, “wanting me to pump you full of my cum.”
“Please, Spence,” you whimpered, tears growing in your eyes as he started to fuck you again. “You feel so good in me,” you told him, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his hips.
Spencer’s pace sped up at your encouragement, completely ravishing you, “gonna make you come around my cock again, gonna breed you.”
You had completely faded away to the point where the only noises in the room were the obscene squelching as Spencer pounded into you and small, hitched breaths that escaped your lips.
The third orgasm took you completely by surprise, you hadn’t felt the coil in your abdomen before it took you over and you wrapped your arms around Spencer as he fucked you through it, his pace refusing to cease until his hips stuttered again, his seed painting your insides white.
Your legs dropped from around his hips, falling to the sheets. Gently, Spencer pulled out of you, leaving you whining at both the sensitivity and the empty feeling.
“Are you crying? Did I hurt you?” He asked suddenly, fear filling his voice as he returned from his lust-filled state.
Shaking your head, you swallowed thickly, “Just sensitive. I’m alright, Spence.” You smiled softly at him, a breathy laugh escaping your lips.
He ruffled your hair affectionately, “What are you laughing about, darling?”
“I just understood what the pillow under my hips is functioning for,” you answered. A sort of ramp so that none of his cum spilled out of you – Spencer Reid never did anything halfway. Next to you, he was tugging his shirt back over his head, having already put his boxers back on. “How long do I have to stay like this?”
Spencer hummed before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “You’re not trapped there. You can move – as long as you’re feeling okay.” He spoke to you before walking out of the bedroom for just one moment, returning from the kitchen to find you sitting up in bed.
You thanked him as he handed you a glass of water, “I love you,” you whispered, reaching over, and intertwining your fingers.
He smiled at you fondly, “I love you too.”
“I do want it, you know. I know it’s been a while since we talked about a wedding and kids, but I do want that,” you told him candidly. “With you,” you added, for good measure.
Gently, Spencer sat down on the edge of the mattress, “Good,” he whispered, “because there’s a good chance that I just got you pregnant.”
Your cheeks flushed, “and if you didn’t, at least now we know we’ll enjoy ourselves trying.”
“And in the interim, what do you say we take a shower and then watch that movie?” He asked, smoothing your hair back before cupping your cheek with his hand.
Humming, you leaned into his touch, “A bath?” You negotiated, “I’m not sure I can stay standing for a shower.”
Spencer grinned before leaning forward to kiss you, “I’ll go get the water running.”
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luveline · 2 months
Note
could you pleaseee do more hotch x bombshell reader
cw suggestive —you and Hotch have a shared secret you’re hiding from the rest of the team. fem, 1k
“He’s too old for you, you know.” 
You give Elle a charmed smile. “He is not.” 
“Is too.” 
“How old do you think I am, Greenaway?” you tease. “I know I look good for my age, but I’m fully developed. He is not too old for me.” 
“Who?” Spencer asks, placing down his dinner tray with a smile. 
“Gideon,” you say. “What do you think, babe, do I have a chance with our great leader?” 
“No,” Spencer says, giggling as he spears a dehydrated looking green bean with his fork. He’s getting good at recognising jokes for what they are. 
As the younger (but, despite Elle’s insistence, not young) crowd, you have complimentary avoiding of work to do, free with your employment. You spend your lunch hour trying to stretch it into two, driving Gideon insane, and prompting Hotch to come and find you. He hasn’t appeared yet, but when you check your watch you’ve got about ten minutes left until you need to get back. 
“The line was so long,” Spencer says. “They could reduce the foot traffic in here by half if they had two people working the register.” 
“Maybe if we had our own offices we could eat our lunch alone from a brown paper bag like everybody else does, and we wouldn’t need to line up,” Elle says wryly. 
“You don’t like lining up like middle schoolers?” you ask in feigned shock. 
“I don’t,” Spencer says earnestly. 
“She’s being sarcastic,” Elle says. “You couldn’t tell?” She looks over your shoulder suddenly, but there’s a velvet voice in your ear before you can turn around.
“Can I borrow you?” 
You smile because he can’t see it. “That depends, Agent Hotchner, will I get to finish my lunch?” 
You don’t have a tray in front of you. It clearly doesn’t matter to Hotch. “I’ll take care of it.” 
You’d let him drag you around by the collar, but that’s none of his business. You turn to meet his eyes over your shoulder, disappointed that he’s already a few steps back waiting for you to stand up. 
What Elle doesn’t get, what nobody seems to see but you, is that Hotch had no need to lean in and talk so close to your ear. He could have sent you an email, paged you, and he’s here in the cafeteria waiting for you to follow him out. 
You send both Elle and Spencer a suggestive look and climb off of the bench. Hotch senses when you’re near rather than looking, starting out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the elevator bank. He does a sharp turn you aren’t expecting to the photocopying rooms, where you refuse to go, lest you get killed by a falling stack of printer paper. One minute you’re walking together and the next he’s taken your hand and pulling you into an alcove, suddenly sliding his hand behind your back. 
“Aaron–”
He dips his face down and kisses you. It’s surprising and not, one slight nipping kiss before he looks you in the eyes. He’s asking if you’re alright to be kissed, and if it’s him, he can shove you up against a wall —you lift your head and he pulls you right back up to be kissed again. His hands slide over the tight fabric of your blazer and hold you chest to chest, his nose crushing yours, his lips unwavering. Pinpricks of heat ricochet from your mouth to your neck, a shudder he feels that has him laughing hot against your lips.
“That’s not very gentlemanly,” you say, weaving your fingers into the soft crop of hair behind his ears. 
“I’m sorry,” he says. He lifts his hand, cleaning the smudge of your lipstick with his pinky finger, before stroking your cheek with his knuckle.  “What sort of note was that, this afternoon? Why do you think that’s alright to leave at my desk?” 
“How’d you know it was me?” you ask, dropping your hands from his hair to poke at his waist. 
“I hoped it was you,” he admits. He looks like he might say something else, but he steals a rough kiss instead, and then another. 
“Okay,” you say, pleased to be kissed like this by him, “it was me. And you deserved it.” 
“Did I?” He takes your face into two hands. “Did I?” 
You stutter momentarily at his repeated question. “You– yeah, Hotchner, you did. It was supposed to be nice, like a promise.” 
“Are you promising?” he asks, giving your cheek a sweet, gentle stroke with his thumb. 
You kiss his nice jaw, ruffle the hair that curls over his forehead playfully, and laugh as he catches your hand. He doesn’t grab. Hotch isn’t ever aggressive with you (though he can get a little excited). 
“Decide what you want for dinner tonight, and we’ll go after work,” he says, returning your hand gently to your side. 
“Another kiss?” you ask. 
Hotch kisses you sweetly. “Come on, honey, lunch is over.” 
“Just one more?” you ask. 
He falls for it every time. You must harvest half a dozen extra kisses, incensed because it’s him, because nobody thought for a minute he’d bend to your whims. 
Hotch doesn’t bend. He just wants you like you want him. 
“One more,” he says as you pull away. “Just one.” 
It tickles your lips. You curl your arms behind his neck and try to make it one that’ll linger, your fingers scratching lightly at his scalp as he presses your back to the cold wall. You yelp a laugh and he covers your back with big hands, mumbling a sorry that gets completely lost. 
You don’t know how he’s going to explain this to Gideon. 
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deadghosy · 2 months
Text
WHERE PENGUIN! READER WILL LIVE IN:
Pt5 of Penguin! Reader x Hazbin Hotel
Prompt: The aftermath of the court is where you decided where to live
Note: this will be the final part of the series lol. Sorry if the sections are short, I tried to make it long with the bullet points just being some. 💗
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“The court has spoken. The rightful place the reader belongs in, is……” sera say opening her mouth to announce the news.
HELL
Lucifer is fucking happy that sera said that would go with them. Charlie has tears dropping out her eyes as she finally is relived to have you by her side and kingdom. Adam was pissed as he thrown papers on the ground. Lute is screaming mentally as her heart breaks.
Back in hell, every one does a celebration party. You get a bandanna with your name, the scarf wrapped around your neck has the name of Y/N Morningstaryou are officially in the family. Welcome to hell.
Literally you get all the food you love in a week of celebrating before they monitor what you eat 💗
Charlie is such an older sister vibe as she shows you the ropes of being royalty as she gives you an allowance. Which you totally didn’t spend in cookies and cakes. But matter of most is that she even shows you how to run the hotel while you just quack at things from afar. Overall her protective rate is 5/10.
Lucifer may be happy and relived that you can be in hell with him. But he is still worried about your safety in hell as he watches you closely and even has razzle and dazzle to look after you. It’s cute and all for you. But for others, they can tell this man baby’s you so much to the point he even gets you to bed like one. Overall his protective level is 100/10
Vaggie loves teaching you how to use her spear in case the exterminators try to kidnap you. She is always the one who watches you on the playground to make sure you are okay. Her protective rate is 9/10
Husk is the damn grumpy drunk uncle who only has a soft spot for you as you aren’t annoying and is pure. Literally you aren’t a bad kid as you just help clean glasses. PST, he actually bought plastic looking glasses so you won’t cut yourself on accident. Plus he appreciates that you want to help him. It’s just you are so small and he is bigger than you. Overall his protective level is 7.5/10
Angel is like that older brother who knows how to hide bruises. And of course we know why…but like past that imagine you bruised your whole ass knee and you didn’t want anyone to worry for you so you went to angel. He chuckled and took care of it. You are such a cutie that he kisses your head and sends you off. Overall his protective level is 7/10
Alastor loves teaching you about his radio station. He even takes you as a co-host and a regular guest as he makes you quack out a song. 💗 some awesome uncle and nephew/niece moments as he also makes you tea if you can’t sleep. His protective rate is 8.5/10
And the rest of hell, they love you equally as somewhat you bring hope in hell to have them redeemed as they visit the hotel to see you and meet you. Hell, the other deadly sins met you and were in awe at how cute you were. Beelzebub was immediately starstruck as she feeds you some of the best food in hell.
So in the end, you love being in the royal family of the Morningstars. It’s peaceful in the hotel with you around as Angel can now get a lot of days off💗
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HEAVEN
Adam is immediately flipping off the two demon royals as he lifts you up in his arms. “SUCK IT BITCHES AHAH!” Adam yells pulling you close to his pudgy body as lute is flipping them off from behind the first man as the two demon royals are sent back in hell.
After exiting court, you are met with getting ice cream with the two angels who were fighting with the demon royals verbally. Adam got you [favorite flavor] ice cream as lute just smiles smugly happy to have you here with them.
Adam has gotten use to you not leaving him like how his other ex-wives did. He won’t admit he feels insecure about you leaving him. But with you now being property of heaven and you living with him personally. He feels like he might actually have a loved one with him. It’s not like romantic since you take form of a gah damn actually penguin. It’s more of a platonically close friendship. He finds you alluring at how sweet you are to others. Even if Adam isn’t. Overall his protective meter is 9.5/10
Lute is still the same ol lute everyone knows. It’s just that she watches you from afar. Keeps tabs on you and where you go. Its like if she’s your personal bodyguard. She always love bombs you in a manipulative way. She just wants you to depend on her. I mean hell, she’s literally crazy at how pure of gold you are in heaven. Her protectiveness level is…200/10😨
Sera is a busy woman, but she keeps tabs on you too. Even sending a angelic guard to make sue you are mentally okay and not unstable of taking you away of your so called “home” down there. But she cares for you endlessly in a mother figure way. her protective meter is 5.5/10
Emily is happy regardless if you went it heaven or hell. This girl literally take you shopping with her as she get you a cute sailor like outfit for your delivery job. She even makes you your own damn basket to give cookies to your regulars with their mail. Overall, this sweet girl’s protective meter 4/10
St. Peter sends you cookies on weekends as it’s the days that you aren’t working as the adorable penguin delivery boy. 💗 St. Peter checks up on you as well as you are just staying home and he comes by just to see if you are liking to live in heaven for years now.
You live with Adam as he and you have some kind of relationship were he wants to look after you. Literally it’s oddly sweet this man has a change of heart kind of. He literally will try to cook only for you to burn out the fire in the kitchen. He’s ordering gah damn take out.
See, me personally you’re still getting stalked a bit from yandere! Lute as she smile smugly seeing you in heaven everyday and replaying the son of bitches face when you got to stay in heaven with them.
The amount of times angels in heaven have gifted you lots of grift baskets for the custody of heaven. It’s crazy as it’s whole bunch of fans just celebrating you staying 💗 it’s sweet but crazy.
Overall you still got your job as a paper delivery person and you get watched 24/7 every day. From afar….😨 but all you know is that you are safe in heaven still missing the people below them.
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BOTH
Heaven and hell is shocked, what I mean by that is Lucifer and Adam being shocked. Adam is immediately yelling out profanities at how this is “complete bullshit”. Emily and Charlie did a mutual nod to each other not hating or liking this idea as it seems clear and fair to share you 50/50 like divorce parents.
After court, it was time to hang out with hell only to go heaven for the next day. 😭 honestly, you could stay in hell for a week and go to heaven for another whole week☝🏾😕
Adam gets so salty seeing Lucifer pick you up and take you through the portal to hell. Lute just scowls walking away. Meanwhile Lucifer is still salty as well to share you, he has to be mature as Charlie was just excited to have you the whole week.
HONESTLY IF ITS VALENTINE’S DAY, YOU GET SO MUCH CHOCOLATE AND TEDDY BEARS FROM HEAVEN AND HELL. OMG IMAGINE YOUR BIRTHDAY 😱😨LEGIT A WHOLE CARTOON ASS BIRTHDAY-
You still sleep in Lucifer’s bed when you stay in hell, but there is still a spare room for you. And for heaven you sleep directly in the same room as Adam as he snores holding your chubby and round fluffy body.
Thanks to @gineazu for the idea of this schedule of them sharing reader.
Hell has reader on mondays Wednesday's Friday's and sundays. As heaven has them on tuesdays thursdays and Saturdays like a true ass divorce. But just like I said you could also spend a whole week in hell and another whole week in heaven. And it could repeat.
LMAO JUST IMAGINE THE AWKWARDNESS WITH ADAM HAVING SUNGLASSES WAITING FOR YOU AS LUCIFER IS TEACHING YOU HOW TO CALL HIM IN CASE ADAM TRIES TO “abuse” you 😭😭
You’re literally eating nuggets in the hotel’s lobby until a busted down wall happens as a golden light shines. “Kid, pack ya shit. The shit lord didn’t bring you to me on time.” Says Adam with sunglasses and chewing bubble gum. Lucifer came from the kitchen having lemonade for you only to drop it seeing Adam. “What are YOU doing here!” He exclaims seeing the first man. Adam smirks, “I’m here to collect the bird brain. Duh?” “It’s literally only been 2 days?!” Lucifer retorts.
Yeahh…at first Adam had a problem being clingy towards you and wanting to stay in the blue skies with him.
Honestly it’s funny how Lucifer is the mom who wants to scam the father to make it seem he is abusive as Adam is just a guy trying to be the fun dad. It’s literally tug of war for your affection for crying out loud- 😭
“HAVE YOU SEEN SMILEY?” Is basically the song to describe your relationship between the two places of heaven and hell. It’s so painfully tooth aching and wholesome.
It’s nice spending time with your people in hell and heaven. Like literally it’s cool how you still got your delivery job in hell and heaven at most. Overall you are just happy seeing both of your so proclaimed friends and family. ‼️💗❤️🦆
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A/N: I did this because I couldn’t choose lol 💗 hope you guys like this as everyone gets their own happy ending
taglist: @zamadness @ilovelyneysm07 @listenerchan @equkki @ambersison-allejo @froggybich @hah-simp-acc-2 @aria-tempest @chefysawesomeideas @angela075905 @loyx2 @libraryraccoon @indom-eclipse @simpcreator @caffieneaddictt18
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weasleyreidstyles · 4 months
Text
>>based on this ask<<
pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader (no house specified)
warning(s): 18+ content, oral (f receiving), our boy's insatiable, fingering, overstimulation, no plot just smut
The room was thick with the scent of sex and the sounds that he had been ripping from you for what felt like hours. After a particularly grueling quidditch game, Mattheo had sought out your calming presence and had dragged you away from your friends the moment he had laid his dark, onyx eyes on you.
Your head was buzzing from the sheer pleasure he was giving you, tossing from side to side against the soft, silk pillows of his bed, fingers digging into the fabric of the deep green sheets. He was feasting on you like a man starved; like you were the first meal he'd had after years of starvation.
As you whined and moaned, he drew another earth shattering orgasm from you, humming into your warm, overstimulated cunt as he lapped up the result of your most explosive release of the evening.
"Matt- Mattheo please! I can't go again! Please." you begged as he slipped in two fingers and began thrusting them with a brutal pace. Your hands flew to his head, grasping the unruly curls as you fought with the pain and pleasure of either pushing him away or pulling him closer. He only muttered incoherently into you, completely drunk off of your taste.
Mattheo was practically making out with your pussy; kissing, lapping, sucking away, creating obscene sounds that would have you embarrassed, if you weren't so far gone. He groaned at your taste, the reverberations causing your eyes to roll back into your head, hips jerking up in the air, in an effort to push him off or encourage him for more, you didn't know; the room was beginning to spin. He wrapped one arm around your hips to keep you pinned to the bed and switched between harsh sucks and flicking at your overly sensitive clit.
The pleasure was all too much and not enough at the same time. You moaned his name aloud and began to rake your hands through his hair, something that turned him on without fail. But you'd been overstimulated beyond belief and you could feel the edges of your hazy vision darkening with each sensual stroke of Mattheo's fingers and tongue. After you delivered a particularly harsh tug, he tutted and lifted his head from between your legs. The look he delivered had you shrinking into the matress; he had a devilish look on his face, one that you wouldn't dare argue against.
“Yank my hair like that again and I won’t touch you for a month.” he rasped, voice low and full of arousal. You whined as he delivered a sharp slap to your inner thigh, legs closing on instinct, but he ripped them open in response.
"Don't be like that, sweetheart." he mumbled, pressing kisses from your clit and up your naval until he reached your pebbled breasts, tweaking each nipple harshly with his fingers, prompting a pained whine from your swollen lips. "Need to prep you for my cock, remember."
He pressed bruising kisses along the collumn of your neck and only teased his lips against your's lightly before he was at the apex of your thighs once more. "Now be good and lie there all pretty for me."
He went back to his previous ministrations, your body aflame with the overwhelming pleasure that the overstimulation brought. As you whined and moaned his name, he traced featherlight circles along your thighs with his fingers. Soothing and loving, as he always was with you, despite the juxtaposition of his harsh ministrations on your pussy.
"Good girl, that's it. Relax for me." he mumbled into you as he continued to devour you. Despite the twinges of pain, the pleasure soon took over and you revelled in the feelings that the boy never failed to bring to you; only him.
~∞~
currently procrastinating my last uni assignment which is due tomorrow by writing this and watching shadow & bone 🙃🙃🙃🙃
hope you guys had a lovely christmas, and a happy new year (i will be popping a bottle of prosecco open with my mum and dad later lol)
i'm also working on the next chapter for serendipity :)
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