｡✧ finding icky!nerdjo with your missing panties✧｡
Summary: Satoru Gojo ever since starting university has been your nerdy roommate bff who folds your laundry, cuddles you during movie nights, and keeps to himself. Never asking for anything. But behind closed doors he’s been hopelessly in love with you since childhood. The last thing he expected was for that illusion to be shattered when you catch him gagging himself with your panties!
Content warning: porn w/no plot, obsessive and possessive behavior, stalking tendencies, voyeuristic thoughts, masturbation, panty theft, s*kuna, jealousy, emotional manipulation, oral (fem!recieving,) friends to lovers, roommates to lovers
18+
Satoru Gojo was the kind of guy who blended into the background. At nineteen, in your little shared apartment, he was the epitome of the nerdy roommate. Blocky glasses perpetually slipping down his nose, messy white hair that he never bothered to style, and a wardrobe full of hoodies, jeans, and graphic t-shirts he often layered over a long-sleeved undershirt. But beneath his unassuming exterior, Satoru was harboring a bottomless desire for you. Ever since first grade, when you'd plopped down next to him on the playground sandbox and declared him your best friend, you had effectively won over his entire being.
You'd grown up together, inseparable through elementary school awkwardness and the chaos of high school. While you blossomed into the popular girl everyone wanted cheer squad captain one semester, marching band the next, Satoru stayed in the shadows, content with stolen glances and the warmth of your casual affections. You'd kiss his cheek goodbye after sleepovers at his family's place and curled up against him during movie nights. His mom adored you, calling you the daughter she never had, baking cookies for your visits. As for Satoru himself, he loved you in a way that twisted his guts, obsessive, all-consuming, the kind of love that made him ache at night.
Now in college, you shared this cheap two-bedroom place to save money. Satoru seemed like the ideal roommate. He did all the chores without whining, especially the laundry. He folded everything so neatly. He would leave the apartment whenever you had guys over, saying he had to study at the library. It gave you privacy.
But that wasn’t the full story. The laundry let him sneak into your dirty clothes. He would grab your panties from the hamper, the ones that still smelled like you. Musky and sweet, it drove him crazy. He kept a secret stash under his bed in a box. He would breathe them in deep until his dick got hard. Then he wrapped them around his hand and stroked himself, pretending it was your pussy gripping him tight through the flimsy fabric.
Now, you’d been seeing guys lately, and Satoru couldn't fucking stand that! Sukuna was the worst. That big tattooed guy you hooked up with sometimes. Satoru hated how that prick touched you, his rough hands on your hips in front of everyone. How you'd would come back to the apartment all flushed, your lips looking kissed too much.
Those should have been Satoru's kisses.
He would listen through the walls at night. The sounds of Sukuna fucking you, his grunts and your moans, it killed him. But he just couldn’t stop! His hand would move fast on his cock, imagining it was him inside you, making you cry out his name. He pounded into you in his head, owning you completely. He knew you inside out. He knew how you laughed at dumb jokes, how you stole all the blankets, absolutely everything about you. Sukuna was nothing, just a stand-in for what Satoru could give you if he had the guts.
Your panties started vanishing more often lately. You mentioned it at breakfast one morning, digging through your drawer with a frown.
“Toru, I don’t know what is going on,” you sighed, sounding confused more than concerned. “They keep disappearing. I bought a new pack yesterday because I keep misplacing them it seems.”
Satoru nodded, acting all sympathetic, but his heart raced. He’d taken your new favorites already. Those pink lacy ones with the little bow. They were still warm when he swiped them too! He just couldn’t resist. You were his everything, his pretty girl, and those stolen pieces let him feel close to you in a way he never dared otherwise. Plus, it’s not like that fratboy-loser Sukuna ever needed to see you in those!
That afternoon, you were out doing errands. Satoru locked his bedroom door and pulled out the pink panties. The cotton felt so soft in his hand, still holding a hint of your scent from when you wore them last. He kicked off his sweats and shoved his boxers down to his knees. His cock bounced free, long and thick, the veins standing out as it throbbed. A drop of precum sat at the tip, shiny and ready. He pressed the fabric to his nose and breathed in hard.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he whined to the empty room, his voice needy and low. “Y’smell amazing. So sweet, like y’re just f’me, yeah?” His tongue slipped out, licking the spot where your wet cunt had been, tasting the salt and the faint tang that made his mouth water.
He shoved the panties into his mouth next, gagging himself to keep quiet. The taste filled him up, and he let out a muffled whine. Satoru dropped back onto his bed, legs spread wide, knees up. One hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing the base before sliding up slow. The skin pulled tight over the head, and he hissed at the friction. He thought about you, how your thighs would feel around his face, soft and warm.
“Wanted this for so long!” he moaned around the cloth, the words coming out sloppy. “Y’re mine, pretty girl….N-not for that asshole Sukuna or anyone. I would fuck you right….s’good…make you feel full until you scream!”
His hand picked up speed, stroking from root to tip with a twist at the top. Precum slicked the way, making each pump louder, wetter. His hips lifted off the mattress, thrusting into his fist like it was you. He pictured you on your knees, mouth open, begging. 'Please, Toru, give it to me nowww.' His other hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them draw up tight. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his glasses getting foggy from the heat. He bit down on the panties, tasting more of you, and his strokes got frantic.
“Gonna fill ya up, baby. Pump you so full of my cum, watch it leak out….H-hah… love you too much, it fucking hurts sometimes….needa taste ya, need to be inside.” He edged himself, slowing down when he got close, dragging out the build. His free hand roamed up his shirt, pinching his nipple hard enough to sting. The pain mixed with the pleasure, making his cock jump in his grip. He imagined your nails on his back, scratching as he rutted deep.
“Yeah, like that…Take it all, my good girl!” Faster now, the bed creaking under him, his breaths coming in pants around the gag. His balls ached, the pressure coiling low in his gut. He was so close, vision blurring, lost in the fantasy of you clenching around him.
The door pushed open without a knock.
You stood there, eyes going wide as you took it in. Satoru on his bed, hand on his dick, your pink panties stuffed in his mouth. The air was thick with the smell of his arousal, his face red and sweaty behind the glasses. Fear hit him hard. He grabbed the blanket and threw it over his lap, pulling the fabric out with a gasp. Words spilled out in a panic. “W-wait! I swear…it’s not what it looks like. Shit, I’m so sorry. Please do not hate me…I love ya, okay? I couldn’t help it! I just-mmmh”
You walked right over, hands on his face, and despite his initial fears, kissed him deep. Your tongue pushed in, tasting him back, like you had waited forever. Satoru went still for a second, then grabbed your waist, holding on tight. You broke away just a bit, whispering against his lips.
“I thought you didn’t see me that way Satoru, I’ve always wanted you more than anyone... But we’ve always been just friends…y’never show interest in me…”
Joy flooded him, making his chest tight. His dick pulsed under the blanket, still hard and leaking. “You mean that!?' he asked, voice shaky, eyes wet. “Fuck! I have been miserable without you. Obsessed everyday. Thinking about your skin, your taste, everything. I want you so bad…”
You grinned, a mix of soft and naughty, and nudged him down onto the pillows. “Y’wanna prove it to me, Toru?” You stripped quick, shirt off, pants gone, bra unbuckled, until you were naked on his bed. Legs open wide, your pussy on display. All syrupy with your clit swollen and ready. Satoru stared, then leaned in hungri.
His lips hit your clit first, sucking with just the right pressure. His tongue swirled fast, making your hips buck. “A-aah, Satoru!” you gasped, fingers in his hair, tugging him in. He acted like he owned the place down there, years of dreams guiding him. He licked into your hole, tongue fucking you shallow, slurping up your juices loud and messy. “Y’taste incredible,” he cooed, the words buzzing against you. One hand held your thigh back, the other pushed two fingers inside, curling to rub that deep spot.
He didn’t let up, fingers thrusting with slick sounds, mouth switching to lap your folds then back to your clit. You squeezed around him, wetness coating his hand, dripping everywhere. “C’mon pretty girl,” he urged, voice low. “Cum on m’tongue…dreamed of this so long! Your tight pussy, all for me, yeah?!” His thumb pressed at your entrance with his fingers, opening you a little more, hinting at what he wanted next.
It hit you quick, body tensing, breaths short.
“Nngh, s’close Toru, g’na cum now!” You whined out before eventually your walls were pulsing. Flooding his mouth with your release. He kept going, swallowing it all, moaning as your legs shook, gripping the sheets for dear life.
But it wasn’t over. You pulled him up, kissing him again, tasting yourself on his lips. “That was amazing,” you said softly, hands sliding down to feel the mess. “Y’came without me even touching you?” He nodded, embarrassed but smiling. “Couldn’t help it, sweet girl. Really meant it when I said you’re everything t’me…”
The build was slower, deeper, your hands fisting the sheets. He watched you the whole time, eyes locked on your face, like he was memorizing every gasp. “You’re so beautiful like this,' he murmured. “All tired and needy f’me…yeah? Still wanna get stuffed by m’cock now?”
He crawled up, blanket kicked away, his soaked boxers clinging. You tugged them down, his cock springing out, still half-hard and messy “Wan you…inside…” you pleaded, “love you so much Toru…c-can I-” Satoru kissed you quiet. Before nodding his head shyly. “C-course…anything for you, yeah?” He lined up, rubbing the head against your slit, coating himself in you. Then he pushed in slow, inch by inch, both of you moaning at the stretch.
He filled you perfect, like he belonged. Hips rocking gentle at first, building to deep thrusts. “Love ya,” he whispered with each one. “Always have, sooo fucking much!” You wrapped legs around him, meeting every move. It was not rushed, just right, sealing years of waiting.
When he came again, it was with you clenching around him, both lost in it. Afterward, he held you close, no more secrets between you. He didn’t know how he got so lucky.
This is not the mean nerdjo I promised but I started this Friday and finished so I thought I’d share it as a surprise
the other one will be out eventually but I got a request I gotta do some research for and a Nobara oneshot and yada yada yada
Summary: Part Two of You dont know my name, This is basically part one in camerons POV
Content Warnings: None, Cameron is equally as obsessed
W/C:1.7k
A/N: This is my first time writing the opposite POV, let me know what you guys think. I suggest reading Part one for the full context of their conversation, this is just Cameorns thoughts.
Inspired by(This had been on loop its such a good song):
It started as a recommendation from one of the guys on the team. They mentioned the diner on campus tucked away, quiet, good coffee, no one bothered you and that was enough for me.
I just needed a place to get a coffee in between classes and on days off. I hadn’t expected to end up with a slight obsession with the waitress there.
It was two months ago when I first saw her. I had sat down just needing a coffee and some space to work.
Her voice registered before anything else. It was soft and felt familiar even though I had never met her before. It was like the pressure from classes and football lifted from my shoulders. I glanced at her and immediately tore my eyes away. I was a thousand percent sure that was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.
Girls were never a problem for me particularly, I just knew better than to add anything complicated onto my already full plate.
People talked , how "Cameron Cade was a player and switched from girl to girl.” And maybe they were partially true there were some here and there but I wasn’t half of the whore the campus thought of me.
I stayed to myself for the most part. I could recognize a pretty girl when I saw one but it was easier this way. Less distractions and less expectations from others.
A girlfriend wasn't exactly at the forefront of my mind. Until her.
After muttering my order, a black coffee, I tried to busy myself with work but it was impossible when I knew she was around.
Whenever her back was turned or she was too busy to pay attention I was looking. There was something calming in how fluidly she moved through the space. How bright her smile was and how sweet her voice was.
I made sure to look away in time so I didn’t seem like a creep with a staring problem. She would always try to make small talk but it’s like all basic social skills were out the window when she came around.
I tried to flash a smile when I could remember how to work my face and say thank you whenever she would refill my coffee. I wasn’t trying to come off rude, hopefully she didn’t see me that way.
The feelings she produced out of me were foreign. When I decided I wanted to entertain attention from a woman it usually came easy. Most of the time they were already interested and I didn’t have to work much.
Something made me not even want to try and make an advance at her. She seems out my league, I wouldn’t risk fucking up anything.
The diner was peaceful and the spot I found allowed me to stay out the way long enough to get something done unbothered, at least when I could tear my eyes away from her to focus on my work.
It was just a plus the girl serving me coffee was out of this world gorgeous.
After an hour of multitasking assignment and staring, I left a tip and left. She more than deserved it, I was definitely satisfied with my visit and would be returning very soon.
It started off pretty tame, I would come by the diner on any off day I had and that wasn’t very often. At least not as often as I wanted too.
Our interactions never went beyond simple, ‘hello’s’ and ‘the usual?’. It was a shame I didn’t have any classes with her. I wondered what her major was.
We had never crossed paths before the diner and I was invested in learning more about her. All I knew was her name from her name tag.
First it was a coincidence, seeing her across the quad with a group of friends. That led to having conversations with those same people at a party and learning more of you through their intoxicated oversharing.
Their friend who didn’t come out to party because of homework.
‘She’s has a stem major, if she’s not working she’s studying’
She was beautiful and smart.
Next, I saw her in the dining hall. She was alone and oblivious enough to not check if anyone was looking at her. Head down in her own world.
I went the next day at the same time and she was there again. It became a routine. I hadn’t known her full schedule yet but from what I picked up, she worked afternoons during the school week and worked early on weekends. That worked well with my schedule so I was able to pop it at her job and see her.
It’s not like I just went for her, I would get work done. And I wasn’t stalking her at the quad. I just knew when she would be there and decided to sit where she would pass me.
I tried to rationalize myself going out of my way to see her. It was probably starting to borderline stalker-ish. But it was worth it. The little time I could see her even if we didn’t talk much.
Part of it being my fault because I was too scared to speak. I wasn’t sure what I was afraid of. Maybe it was the fact that most interactions I had with a woman were usually quick and for one reason. I never really did the lovey stuff. I guess I never found the right person I wanted to try it with. She felt close but I wouldn’t make her an experiment in my love life.
So watching her would have to be enough.
————
That leads me to today. It's been two months of acting like her shadow and I was used to the schedule. But after the day I had I needed to see her.
I overslept, missing my first class of the day and a test which my professor wouldn't allow a retake.
After that it was pretty smoothe sailing, until later.
At practice, the coach didn’t let anything slide. If I was off a second on anything he was on my ass. It dragged out an hour later than usual.
Not to mention the call from home, my mom reminding me that they are all back home and miss me. That they’re rooting for me.
Truth is sometimes I didn’t even want to play anymore. Being QB is nice but it has been my dads passion longer than mine, buy i coudn't let them down.
No one understood though.
I just needed some calm after the shit show that was today. That's how I ended up at the diner. It was late and they were about to close but I just needed to see her. The thought of having to wait till Wednesday for time to see her didn’t appeal to me at all.
I’d just stop by before closing and go simple.
I entered, there she was with her back turned, she spoke reminding me that they closed soon.
Her voice made me regret coming just a bit, I could tell she was tired and the last thing she wanted to do was help another person tonight.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be quick” I managed, taking a seat at the counter.
It was just us from what I could see.
She beckoned me to take a seat, she seemed far away in thought. Her back was to me again as she put on some coffee.
I loved watching her, something about her I couldn’t place. I can’t even say what I'd give to know what she was thinking.
She placed my coffee down not even needing to be reminded of what I liked. I was aware a plain black coffee wasn’t hard to remember but I’m sure she helps many people a day but the fact she reminded me at least my order meant something.
She turned back away, my voice was caught, I wanted to say something but didn’t know what.
“You always know my order.”
That was good right? A good conversation started.
“Um ... .yeah you come in a lot.” She said dismissively.
“I didn’t know it was noticeable” I tried to laugh it off.
“It is kind of my job to notice things like that.” She let out a quiet laugh.
She was right, it was her job. Nothing not special.
I’m not sure why I thought otherwise. This fucked up obsession is just in head and she has no idea how I feel and probably thinks I’m a creep.
“You’re here later than usual.” She observed. Her voice as soft as honey.
My head lifted a little. She noticed. Maybe I’m not as delusional.
It was her job dumbass. Of course.
After that the conversations didn’t last long.
She asked me about my day. This was all new, I was never able to get past simple greetings and now we were having a full conversation and she seemed genuinely interested. She made me feel like I could be vulnerable.
I didn’t feel that often.
And of course she was a good listener, something else to add to the growing list of positive qualities she possessed.
We talked back and forth for what felt like forever. Maybe it was because I didn't want the moment to end.
Smiled on our face as we sat in a comfortable silence once all was and and done.
She reminded me that it was closing time and that brought me out of my trance. All the weight I came there with felt lifted even if it was only going to last for a little.
“I’ll see you soon?” She asked me, was that hope I heard in her voice or was I tripping?
“For sure” I nodded as I gave her a smile and exited.
I tried to be nonchalant knowing that my hands were clammy from how nervous I was, hopefully she couldn’t tell.
I left the diner walking to my car trying to not jump in joy. Did the idea of seeing her again do as much to her as it did me.
I had to convince myself not to make the days I go to the diner on my schedule because I felt like I was doing too much.
All I could think of as I drove home was what my next move would be to make her mind.
Fuck all the talk about leaving her alone. That was done. She would know how I felt one way or another.
Texting with Jack – Jack Abbot x Dermatologist! reader
Pairing: Jack Abbot x Black Dermatologist Reader
Tags: Black reader-based (anyone can read!!), feminine reader, nickname usage, no use of y/n, established relationship, (slight age gap! 50 year old Jack, 35 year old Reader), implied nsfw
Gf!Mira loves to see you flustered. She’s a tall girlie so when you’re talking she likes to lean in pretending she didn’t hear you to watch you blush, and when you call her out she pretends she hasn’t done anything.
Gf!Mira who is an incredible performer, when she’s on stage her voice is strong and her dance moves are sharp, but off stage she’s this big ol’ softie with oversized pajamas who melts in your arms. “Babe I’m cold!” She whines inching closer squeezing herself in your arms.
Gf!Mira who’s not the type to open up so easily, due to her not being accepted by her family. So when you two started dating she was very cautious with how she acted around you, but when you showed her you’d accept her flaws and all she was more than happy to express herself
Gf!Mira who has a private playlist of all the songs that reminds her of you, she won’t admit it unless you found it…she probably still won’t admit it.
Gf!Mira who loves loves LOVES when you play in her hair. It’s the only way she can go to sleep now. If you stop she’ll blindly search for your hand and plop it right back on her head.
Gf!Mira who doesn’t get jealous easily… so she says. But if someone is pushing their limits or continuously flirting she’ll stare at them until they get the hint.
“That wasn’t nice Mimi.” She shrugs, “don’t care.”
Gf!Mira who pretends to hate the nicknames you give her. “I think mimi is cuuute, why don’t you like it?” She rolls her eyes, “it sounds like someone grandma.”
It grows on her though, and it’s not like she doesn’t have corny nicknames for you, she calls you squishy. She says its cause of your cheeks but when you asked her which ones she just looks at you and smirks.
Gf!Mira who is this cool, confident mysterious person on stage but off stage she’s talking about her plants and sending you chaotic 3am voice notes.
Gf!Mira Who’s always the last one in the studio or practice room so late you have to either drag her out or just bring snacks and join her.
Gf!Mira whose love language is surprisingly physical touch. She love’s receiving and giving forehead kisses, her hand always finds itself on your thigh, and she always has to hold your hand when you’re out. but what really makes her heart melt is words of affirmation, if you ever tell her she’s done a good job today and she can relax she would have to stop herself from sobbing.
Gf!Mira who says you are her peace. Anytime she’s feeling anxious or the idol life is getting too much for her she calls you just to hear your voice. She says it better than any song.
Gf!Mira who’s incredibly flirty, especially at home. She’s always kissing you on the cheek, or resting her hands on your butt. She’ll say something sly like “If I kissed you would you kiss me back?” Cue you giggling and snorting like a school girl.
summary: Remus is known for not being the most vocal when it comes to displays of affection, but for some reason, whenever he smokes, his walls come down, and he becomes more prone to PDA than anyone expects.
pairing: Remus Lupin x f!reader
warnings: drug consumption (weed), smut, sexual acts whilst under the influence, p in v, unprotected sex, the boys are overly comfortable with being pervs, said loosely.
note: Part 2 to Higher than Heaven. I do not condone the use of any drugs; this is solely a work of fiction.
word count: 3345
Part one // Part two
Remus didn't usually lose track of things.
Not time.
Not space.
Definitely not people.
And yet —
Somewhere between your hands in his hair and the way his fingers had spread warm and firm against your back, everything else had just... sort of dropped away from his head.
The noises in the corridor. The music playing from the speaker. The fact that his three best friends existed at all.
Gone.
All of it.
He kissed you like he'd been holding it in for far too long — not rushed, not careless, but intentional. Like every small shift of his hands, every tilt of his head, had weight behind it.
And you?
You weren't helping.
Remus wasn't even pretending anymore.
That was the first thing you noticed, properly noticed, once the door had slammed shut behind Sirius, James and Peter.
The shift.
Because whatever restraint he usually clung to like a lifeline was gone. Completely.
His hands hadn't left you. Not when they walked out. Not when the laughter faded down the corridor. Not even when the room fell quiet again.
If anything, his grip had only tightened.
"Remus," you breathed, your hands still tangled in his hair, your body pressed so close to his, you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.
"Mm?" His voice was low, roughened — barely there against your mouth.
"You're–"
You didn't finish.
Because his hand slid —slowly, deliberately— up your back again, fingers pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch. Not accidental. Not teasing anymore.
Certain.
And he felt it.
The reaction.
His head dipped, lips brushing yours again, slower this time, like he was dragging it out on purpose, like he'd come to the realisation he could.
Like he liked it.
"You were saying?" he murmured against your lips.
Your fingers tightened slightly in his hair. "You're not acting like yourself."
"Yeah," he said quietly.
No denial.
No deflection.
Just that.
And then he kissed you again.
Deeper.
His hand at your waist pulled you flush against him, leaving no space, no room to pretend this was anything but intentional. You exhaled sharply against his mouth, your grip on him tightening in response. And that was all it took.
A low, quiet sound slipped out of him.
Not loud.
But felt.
Your stomach flipped.
"Remus–" you tried again, but it dissolved when his lips moved against yours more firmly this time, less careful, his control slipping in slow, noticeable increments.
Every touch lingered.
Every moment meant something.
Like he'd been holding back far too long.
His hand shifted again, higher, firmer, and you leaned into it without thinking.
That seemed to undo him completely.
His breathing changed, deeper now, less steady. And for a moment, he pulled back just enough to look at you.
Really look at you.
Like he was trying to memorise it.
"You always let me stop," he said, voice low, rough at the edges.
You swallowed, your chest rising a little faster now. "You always do."
"Yeah."
A pause.
His thumb dragged slowly along your side, deliberate enough that it made your breath hitch again. "Don't think I want to."
That landed somewhere deep.
"Then don't," you whisper back softly. And that was it. Whatever line he'd been hovering on before was gone.
His hand slid firmly to your back, pulling you into him again as his mouth found yours, this time without hesitation. No testing, no careful pacing — just something heavier, more certain, like he'd finally decided to stop holding himself back and didn't quite know how to do it halfway.
Your hands moved without permission, one still in his hair, the other sliding down to his shoulder, gripping slightly as you steadied yourself against him.
The kiss reignited with that unyielding certainty, Remus's lips claiming yours in a way that sent heat pooling low in your belly. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting and teasing, while his hand on your back pressed you flush against his chest. You could feel the hard planes of his body beneath his shirt, the rapid thump of his heart matching your own erratic pulse. Your fingers threaded deeper into his hair, tugging lightly, and he responded with a low groan that vibrated through you.
His grip tightened again, subtly, but grounding, as if he needed the contact, needed to keep you right there. His other hand, still tracing your side, dipped lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hip before slipping under the hem of your shirt.
The room felt warmer now, thick with the smoke of the weed and a different kind of high Remus was giving you. The tension, the closeness, the way neither of you seemed particularly interested in slowing down.
"Still want me to stop?" he asked again, quieter this time, his forehead brushing yours.
Your response came immediately, the shake of your head a firm and final notice as you murmured back a resounding "No."
"Good," he muttered.
And as you leaned back down to connect your lips to his, the door slammed open, and a loud voice broke through the haze.
"WE LEFT MY–"
Sirius froze. James nearly walked into him again. Peter, halfway through another sentence, stopped so abruptly he made a choking sound at the scene before him. Your legs straddled Remus's lap, his hands firmly held onto you as you stared down at him.
You and Remus didn't jump part. Didn't scramble. Didn't even move quickly.
Instead, you pulled back a little as you both turned with a slow and unhurried pace, like you hadn't been caught in the middle of something they absolutely were not meant to walk in on.
Remus's hand was still on you. Still gripping your side, his other hand pressed slow circles on your back with his thumb. Still holding you close.
Sirius blinked. "... I hate it here," he cried as James dragged both hands over his face, his glasses sliding down with the movement.
"Mate, yo-" He cut himself off, still standing in the doorway.
Peter stared, wide-eyed. "Well, that escalated quickly."
Remus exhaled slowly, as if they were mildly inconveniencing you two at best. "You said you forgot something?" he asked, voice still low and roughened in a way that made all three of them pause again.
"You sound different," Sirius notes immediately.
"I do not."
"You do," Peter insisted. "You sound–"
"Occupied," Remus finished.
You let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, your forehead dropping briefly against Remus's shoulder. " You're not even embarrassed." Remus tilted his head slightly, glancing at you, something softer threading through the haze again.
"Should I be?"
"Yes."
"Don't think I am."
Sirius made a strangled sound. "Oh no, he's insufferable like this."
James pointed at him. "You're holding her like you're not planning on letting go."
Remus looked down — actually looked. Like he had only just remembered that his hands were still there before he tightened his grip slightly. The action shifted your body, pressing your clothed pussy against him, causing an involuntary shudder to pass through you.
"Wasn't planning to," he said, certainly.
Peter choked on air, his eyes practically bulging out of his head as Sirius clutched his chest, pretending to double over in pain before leaning on James's shoulder. "That's– no. No, that's too much."
"You lot done?" You asked, though your voice was softer now, a little unsteady in a way you couldn't quite hide.
"Not even remotely," Sirius declared. "We leave for five minutes and come back to Remus Lupin losing his entire personality."
"I have not lost–"
"You have," all three of them argued at once, and Remus ignored them. Again. His thumb had started moving along your side, slow, absent, like he'd forgotten they were even there. Your breath caught again, and this time, James noticed.
"Oh, now that's ju– that's worse," he cried. "He's still doing it."
"Doing what?" Remus asked, distracted by your micro-reactions.
"That!" Sirius's hand jutted out, pointing at the two of you in circular motions. "The– whatever that is. The thing."
Remus glanced at you. Then back at them. "...I'm touching my girlfriend."
"Not like that, you don't," James shot back
Peter nodded quickly, "You're usually very... restrained."
Remus hummed faintly, like he was considering Peter's statement. "Yeah," he said after a moment. Then his hand shifted again, firmer this time. Your breath hitched once more.
That was the final straw.
"Right, come on, lads," James started, moving to grab one of the many lighters thrown around the dorm and two unlit joints. "We're leaving again. Don't do anything Moony wouldn't do." He teased, adjusting his glasses.
"Or do, I'm sure they wouldn't mind." Sirius barked a laugh, moving with exaggerated slowness.
"For Merlin's sake, get out." Remus rolled his eyes, dramatically throwing his head back on the pillow as he stared at your laughing face.
Sirius paused at the door, eyes wide with mock shock. "Bloody hell, Prongs, we created a monster."
James snorted. "Get out," Remus demanded, his voice firm, eyes still on you. He didn't break away, didn't even glance at them as his lips brushed yours in a teasing almost-kiss.
You pulled back just slightly, breath uneven, lips still hovering near his. "They're never going to let you live that down," you giggled. James slapped Sirius on the back, Peter trailing behind like a shadow.
He didn't break away, didn't even glance at them as his lips brushed yours in a teasing almost-kiss.
The door shut behind them with a click, leaving real silence. The weed smoke lingered, wrapping around you both like a veil.
"Don't care," He muttered, pulling you back down into a heated kiss.
The touch of his calloused palm against your bare skin made you shiver, arching into him instinctively. He broke the kiss to trail his mouth along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive spot below your ear. "Been wanting this," he murmured, voice rough with need, his breath hot against your neck.
"You mind?" he asked, hands not moving from their path, slipping under your shirt to trace the curve of your waist.
"No," you whispered, the high making everything feel amplified — the heat of his body, the faint scent of smoke on his skin.
"Good."
His mouth claimed yours then, no more hesitation. The kiss was hungry, tongues sliding together as his hands roamed higher, pushing your shirt up to expose your breasts. He broke away just long enough to yank it over your head, tossing it aside. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you gasp.
You ground down against him, feeling his cock harden through his jeans, thick and insistent against your core. "Remus," you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair.
You shifted on his lap, feeling the unmistakable bulge of his cock pressing up against your core through the layers of fabric. The friction as you rocked subtly against him drew a hiss from his lips, his grip tightening to hold you steady. "Remus," you whispered, your own hands exploring now, pushing his shirt up to reveal the taut muscles of his abdomen, scarred and beautiful in the dim light filtering through the room.
He captured your mouth again, hungrier this time, as his fingers worked the button of your jeans open with practised ease. The zipper rasped down, and he wasted no time shoving his hand inside, past the edge of your panties to cup your mound. You were already wet, your pussy aching for more, and he stroked along your folds with deliberate slowness, parting them to circle your clit. The pressure was perfect, building that sweet tension as you moaned into his kiss, hips grinding down to chase the sensation.
"Fuck, you're soaked," he growled, pulling back just enough to watch your face, his eyes dark and intense. Two fingers slid inside you, thick and curling to stroke that spot deep within, while his thumb continued its assault on your clit. You clenched around him, the wet sounds of his movements filling the quiet room, mingling with your ragged breaths. He pumped steadily, scissoring his fingers to stretch you, preparing you as he nipped at your collarbone.
He growled low, flipping you onto your back on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hands were everywhere, withdrawing from inside your wet heat to the waistband of your jeans, shoving them down your legs along with your panties. Cool air hit your wet pussy, but his fingers were there immediately, two sliding back inside you without warning, curling to hit that spot that made your back arch.
"Please," you begged, hips bucking up to meet his fingers as they scissored inside you. He withdrew his fingers, licking them clean with a smirk that was pure Sirius-level confidence.
Then he stripped off his shirt, revealing the lean muscles scarred from his transformations, as your hands fumbled with his belt, desperate to feel him, and he shifted his hips to help you shove his trousers and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It sprang up, hard and thick, the head flushed and glistening with pre-cum. You wrapped your fingers around the base, stroking firmly, and he bucked into your touch with a guttural sound. "Need you now," he rasped, withdrawing his fingers to line himself up.
Remus positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head along your slit, teasing your entrance. "You want this?" he asked, voice rough from the smoke and restraint.
"Yes, fuck me."
He thrust in with one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt. You cried out, walls stretching around his thickness. He barely gives you time to adjust, pulling back and slamming in again, setting a brutal pace. His hands pinned your wrists above your head, holding you down as he fucked you hard, the bed creaking under the force.
"So tight," he grunted, angling his hips to grind against your clit with every stroke. The high amplified it all—the slap of skin, the wet sounds of your pussy taking him, the building pressure in your core.
"Fuck, Remus– Just like that." You moaned, legs raising to wrap themselves tighter around his waist, head falling against his pillows as he continued with his brutal pace.
"Yes—God, yes, fuck me hard."
With a thrust that buried him to the hilt, he gave you what you craved. Your cry echoed off the walls as your pussy stretched around his girth, the fullness overwhelming. He didn't pause, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in, setting a punishing rhythm. His hands pinned your wrists above your head, holding you captive as he drove into you, hips snapping with a force that shook the bed.
"So tight, your pussy's taking me so well," he grunted, shifting his angle to grind against your clit on every inward stroke. The wet slap of skin on skin mixed with your moans, the room filling with the raw sounds of sex. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripping onto your chest as he fucked you relentlessly.
His hands released your wrists from their hold, your arms wrapping around him as you dug your nails down his back, leaving a trail of red marks down his back along his scars. He let out a low groan at the bite of your nails against his skin. You came first with a loud moan, shattering around him, legs shaking as you clenched down.
The pressure built fast, coiling tight in your belly until it snapped. You came with a scream, body convulsing, pussy milking his cock in rhythmic pulses. Remus groaned but didn't stop, pounding through your orgasm, drawing it out until tears pricked your eyes from the overstimulation.
But he wasn't done, not by a long shot.
Pulling out with a slick pop, he rolled your bodies, moving himself underneath your body as you straddled him again, still singing from your recent orgasm.
You rose slightly on your knees, bracing your hands on his shoulders, and sank down onto him in one fluid motion. His cock stretched your pussy wide, filling you completely, the burn of it making you gasp as you bottomed out. He was buried deep, pulsing inside you, and you paused for a moment, savouring the fullness, your walls fluttering around his length.
Remus's hands gripped your ass, guiding you as you began to move, rolling your hips in a slow grind that had him groaning. "That's it... Ride me," he urged, his voice strained. You picked up the pace, lifting and dropping onto his cock, the chair creaking beneath you with each bounce. His shaft dragged along your inner walls, hitting deep with every descent, while his fingers dug into your flesh, urging you faster. He slapped your ass once, sharp and stinging, then twice more, the pain blooming into heat. "You like that?" he asked, rubbing the red marks.
"Ye– yes!"
He leaned forward, mouth latching onto your breast, sucking hard enough to make you arch. You leaned back, lifting your head from his shoulder, exposing yourself, and he immediately took your nipple between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing it with his tongue. The dual sensations — his cock thrusting up to meet your movements, his mouth devouring your breast — pushed you closer to the edge.
Sweat beaded on your skin, your thighs burning from the effort, but the pleasure overrode everything. Remus's hips snapped up harder now, fucking into you from below, his balls slapping against your ass with wet smacks. "So tight... gonna make me cum," he panted, one hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit in tight circles.
The added friction shattered you. Your orgasm hit like a wave, your pussy clenching rhythmically around his cock as you cried out, trembling in his lap. He followed seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, his release flooding you with hot spurts of cum. You rode out the aftershocks together, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close as you both caught your breath.
But the night was young, the high still buzzing, and that confident glint in his eye promised more. He flipped you onto your stomach again, hands yanking your hips up as your ass was presented to him, spreading your legs wide with firm hands. Cum and arousal dripped down your thighs, but he didn't care. His palm came down on your ass cheek, sharp, stinging, leaving a red handprint that bloomed hot.
"Fuck, more," you begged, pushing back against him, the pain twisting into delicious heat that made your pussy clench emptily.
He obliged with two more strikes, alternating cheeks until your skin burned, then lined up and thrust back inside. This position was deeper, his cock spearing you open, hitting nerves that made stars explode behind your eyelids. One hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back to arch your spine, while the other snaked around to pinch and roll your clit between his fingers.
"Come for me again," he commanded, pace brutal, hips slamming against your reddened ass. The combination shattered you — orgasm ripping through like lightning, your scream muffled into the pillow as you soaked his cock and thighs.
Remus followed seconds later, burying deep and spilling hot cum inside you, groans tearing from his chest as he pumped every drop. He collapsed over your back for a moment, breath ragged, before pulling out slowly, watching his release leak from your swollen pussy.
"Not pretending anymore, huh?" you teased softly.
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Never again."
Exhausted, you both collapsed in a tangle of limbs, his arms wrapping around you possessively. He rolled the both of you onto your sides, facing him as his softening cock slid back inside you, a lazy smile curving your lips.
The door rattled faintly — probably the boys eavesdropping — but Remus just chuckled, kissing your forehead. "Let them tease. Every second of that was worth it." The high faded slowly, leaving you sated and wrapped in his warmth, the dorm silent except for your shared breaths.
-summary: reader learns a little trick that she can't wait to show her man.
-warnings: suggestive, but no smut. she/her pronouns used. fem reader
-notes- this was written with black women in mind, specifically megan thee stallion. can yall tell im in love with her. slight descriptions used, but nothing major (enjoy having a fat, juicy, voluptuous ass) click on the links so you can see what im talking about, im horrible explaining things
Thinking about Michael’s cute little girlfriend/fiancée showing him her new trick. She had recently learned that if she jumps up and down, her ass can clap quite loudly.
She hadn’t noticed before, but one night while she was having a sleepover with her friends, she had started jumping up and down when her friends surprised her with certificate for a free massage, knowing she has chronic back pain.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She exclaimed excitedly.
clap! clap! clap!
Everyone paused, looking around before her friend Camille (Cammie for short) started to laugh and tried and get her to turn around. “When did you get all this ass back here? That man makes sure to take care of you, huh?" She teased.
She couldn't help but stand there flustered. She had noticed her thighs, hips, and ass filling out, but she hadn't noticed how much. She should've with how Michael could't keep his hands off of her. Always giving her ass a cute pinch while walking past.
Or squeezing and kneading her thighs when he's focused on reviewing his documents. He was obsessed with this new weight she was gaining.
"Girlll, have you shown him that party trick yet?"
"Kenzie.. what party trick? I didn't even know I could do that. It's kinda embarrassing."
"Oh please," Kenzie rolled her eyes. "If you don't use those assets to your advantage. You already get what you want, Mrs. Jackson."
And that's how we ended up here. Michael in black slacks and a black button down, manspread across the large couch in the living room. He had gotten home from doing interviews not long ago, a tired smile on his face.
"Baby, can I show you something?" That was the first thing she asked him when he walked through the door. And he lived for her shenanigans, of course he followed her to see what she was so giddy about.
"I learned I could do this the other day when I had that sleepover. The girls think you'll like it." She looked kinda nervous, but there was mischief in her eyes too. He knew he was in for a treat.
She had on just a purple nightgown, lace trim around the neckline and slit of the gown. Nothing underneath, just how Michael likes her. She turned around, pulled her curls over her shoulder and started jumping.
It sounded like war was happening. An earthquake if you will. Michael ain't never seen nothing like this. The fluidity in the way her ass waves to him is pulling him into a trance. She turned to the side to get a good look at Michael's big, pretty eyes. Bending over to shake that ass some more with little effort. It just flowed so naturally.
Everything matched perfectly. From her waist, to her hips, to those thick, pretty thighs, down to her muscular calves and pretty pink toes. She's pure perfection and he's in love.
After her show, she sheepishly smiled at hime. Walking over slowly to straddle his lap. "What did you think, Big Daddy?" He loves to pretend he hates when she calls him by this teasing nickname, but it really just made him hard.
She had started calling him Big Daddy after he took all of her cards out of the Chanel bag he had just gifted her with his own card and insisting that she doesn't use her money for anything. Michael loves taking care of his pretty baby.
Her fingers were tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck, that smirk and lip bite playing on his face. Each one of Michael's hands on her bottom, hands overflowing with the thickness.
"You know I'm about to tear you up right?" That's exactly what she wanted to hear, quickly getting of his lap to run to the bedroom. He of course got a quick smack in before she got too far. Allat ass still clapping on her way to the massive bedroom.
Michael just laughed and shook his head, following her to their bedroom. "She's gonna be the death of me," he muttered to himself. And he was proud of it.
tw: mdni, kinda dark nothing too crazy, rough treatment, slow sex, missionary, choking, reader is kinda a crybaby, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, boob slapping ??, “doll” used as pet name, reader calls him "jay", bruising, blood mentioned, blood sucking, begging, dom joker, they are both kinda masochist, grinding, and bad spelling !!
"doll stop crying" he is holding your shaking form, your head in the crease of his neck. you can hear him gruff out in your ear, he gives you all of these gifts and presents and all he gets in return is tears. no thank you's or kisses.
all you wanted was to get another necklace to add to your jewelry collection, from when he does his nightly robberies he always brings you something back. something shiny that makes you swoon over him. you’ve always wore gold jewelry but just mere minutes earlier joker gave you a silver necklace, knowing you can't stand that color.
you have tears coming down your cheeks, hyperventilating as your face comes out of hiding in his neck to look at him. you can his silver teeth grinding because he is annoyed. " jay, i-i-i’m sorry but i just don’t want that necklace " you stammered out, not getting a chance to collect yourself before he grips the sides of your neck tightly making you a little light headed. you grip his wrist, tears coming down a little faster. your eyes getting glossy while he rolls his.
your chest heaves even with your air flow constricted you let heavy breaths out. watching you as you scratch at his hand at your throat. satisfied to see you gasp out. "be grateful doll, i could snap your neck since your being so rude" he loves how pretty you look when he holds you throat. it makes him harder in his pants. he finally lets you go when he sees your eyes slightly roll back. smiling watching you cough out trying to speak again.
when you speak again your still sniffing, but your voice is now a little raspy. "i just wanted some gold" all the things he does for you and you have the nerve to pout and cry. he is sick of it, the hand that was just at your throat going to grip your hair tightly, causing "ow's" to leave your lips when he uses your hair to move you from the living room to the bedroom
he just laughs while he drags you down the hallway, doing his classic clown laugh that scares you especially when he gets like this. " your just a spoiled thing, ain't you cupcake ?" pulling your hair harder when he shuts the door of your shared bedroom. your lips pouting when you can feel your head throb as he pulls you onto the bed, laying you down next to him
loving how your whine when he presses his fingers into your scalp “jay that hurts” he dismisses your pain.
covering your lips with his hand that has that smiling mouth on it. that he loves to tease and antagonize you with. “smile more doll” laughing more at you. playing with your feelings. moving his hand to start kiss your pouting lips roughly to stop your cries.
he loves to act like you annoy him when really he is happy with anything that you do. deep down he cares for you deeply and you both know that, its why you act like this. he finally lets your hair go as he lays you down flat on your back. still keeping his lips locked on you while he puts his weight heavily on top of you.
feeling your legs wrap around his waist and arms wrap around his neck tightly. the position making your body start to tingle your done crying, now your body feels hot. his length starts to throb as his tongue moves with yours and spit starts moving past your lips. he is messy with the kisses wanting them his way not slow like how you like them. "please jay" you gasp when your lips pull apart from each other.
"i shouldn't give you anything, always begging and crying" he grumbles against your lips, biting the skin to see you wince. his blue eyes burning into yours watching you intense biting harder into the soft skin of your lip to see the discomfort. he lets you go your lips swelling from the assault.
giving you one last kiss making it sloppy before he is pecking down your neck, where he begins to bite that already bruised skin from his rough hold, his teeth bruising you even more. even though it hurts so bad it feels so good. you’ve grown the love the feeling “jay, i need you please” your pulling him closer to you. holding him securely against you.
he grabs your face between his hand squeezing your checks tightly together “shut up” he mumbles out, coming to look you in the eyes, he can still see the tear marks that are etched into your face. he almost wants to roll his eyes how lovesick he really is, rolling his tongue along your face to collect your dried tears “all the whining im sick of it”
he has to pry your hands off him to help you take your shirt and pants off so he has all the access he needs to mark you up as much as he can. you can feel his silver hit your skin first before anything it makes you shiver with how cold the metal is. running your hands through his soft green hair to just touch him.
he starts his focus near your collar bone where he bites hard enough to make you draw blood, blood that he has to suction his lips around to collect. making you wince and gasp, looking down to the purple pains that are starting to spread across your skin. really when you plead and beg for him it makes him stiffen more in his pants, but he can’t let you know that.
your body wrapped around him again as you crave the attention of his body. he positions his mouth right by your ear “don’t play soft with me sweetheart, i know you like it rough” his voice raspy in your ear when he bites the shell of it while you hiss and whine. running his tongue in the ridges, lifting under you back to help take your bra off. letting it fly across the room when he starts kissing you against your chest, sucking on the skin of your breast
you slightly tug on his hair and he moans so sweetly. you feel the start of you sweating, the arousal giving you a temperature like feeling. your body starting to grind and roll up into him feeling how stiff he is, giving you so much pleasure and he not even inside you yet.
you nearly jumpstart when he suddenly bites your nipple the pain making you jump running his tongue over the pebble and suctioning his lips to soothe the pain. “feel so good” you whispers gripping his hair tighter when he switches to your other breast. sinking his teeth in harder to hear those pretty noise he loves working his hips to build a rhythm into you
letting your breast go, he lifts his head up to just admirers your naked body, reaching his hands to touch all the welts he created. your so cute it makes him aggressive for some reason. sometimes he just wants to squeeze you against him til he can’t anymore.
makes him do things like pressing your breast together roughly. your so adorable he can’t help it, you have to arch your back up for some relief. watching the flesh spill from in between his fingers. he lets them free loving how their decorations he has added to your skin, he pulls his hand back and smacks the mounds of flesh
the static feeling has you jumping, trying to run away from the unique state he has you in when he starts to twist your sore nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. holding them tightly to stretch them as far as they can go. slapping your breast again while he watches them jiggle
he’s infatuated with you, how your body reacts to him, even your crybaby ways. sliding your panties off. “you ready for me doll ?” distracting with a question so he can strip himself of his clothes, waiting for your answer. your mouth to busy watering looking at his body, it’s so sculpted and the different images on his body has you tracing them with your fingertips while you wait for him to finish undressing
your eyes locking on his bobbing thickness when he pulls himself free. “so ready for you” you can feel the wetness leaking from you just looking at him. positioning your body so that your legs are wide open your feet laying on the bed. wide open for him so he can see everything, so he can see you
joker just sees you spread out and it’s like he gets hypnotize. running his hands over your legs to comfort you preparing you. moving closer to your body adjusting to lightly tap the tip of him onto you to feel the stickiness between your folds. “i should punish you, shouldn’t fuck you at all. should make you beg all night” the cream covers him when continues with the motion, your wetness coating him “huh, since you don’t like my gifts ?” he questioned you, working his length between your puffy lips. the moisture helps him when start to roll into you not yet penetrating you. your clit being hit with his spitting head of precum
“jay im sorry” you mew he can already see those tears that he hates so much at the corners of your eyes. “you forgive me ?” you reach out to him your hand running on his flexing core. trying to seduce him to comply with your wants
he ignores you knowing your trying to get him to fall into your trap. he shoves you hand out the way voice gruff. positioning himself to poke into you slowly, you can feel your walls seperating when he moves deep, sucking him in. causing his moans to be animalistic almost sounding like he is growling. and he is still pushing his thicknesss into you.
you feel like you can’t breathe when he meets his pelvis with yours. he can’t even relax, because of your walls gripping him. your plushy walls pulsing while he is inbetween them “doll, your squeezing me so tight” he kisses your check softly. pulling his arms under you to pull you closer to him pressing your chest against his.
you crave the feeling of his soft kissing when he lays his head in your neck. kissing your neck tenderly touching the bruises and letting his tongue roll over them when he starts a gentle pace into you. “j-j-jay your so deep” your mouth right by his ear where he can hear you take ragged breaths
even though he grabs your hair hard making your head throb, makes you throat sore from him always squeezing his hand around it, from him bruising you in bites all over. but whenever he is inside of you he contradicts himself moving slowly. never being rough when he is inside your snug walls. instead he wants you to be rough with him.
his eyes rolling back when you start to grab at his back. your nails dragging on his skin and letting the burning feeling take over body. “scratch me harder baby” his voice light as he begs while he is humping you is so rhythmic the when the top of him catching in the back of your walls on that special spot which makes you grant his wishes. your nails dragging down his skin rougher
your legs have to stay open to make sure you can feel him. feel him almost reaching your cervix, blood coming from his fresh line wounds on his skin. he loves the pain it brings him pleasure, it over takes his body. he craves it from you whenever your walls consume him
he is moving slowly and steadily, making you desperate for just a little more. your fingers running through his soft strands. your fingers are doing the same thing your toes are doing, curling. pushing your fingers into his scalp grabbing tightly at his hair pulling his head back hard
you can see his lip move with each roll of his hips. he is talking to himself quietly, only speaking louder to praise you. he can’t collect himself, the burning in his scalp makes his eyes flutter and his lip come between his teeth. whimpers coming out to your ears.“harder, please fuck me harder” you beg you can feel a simmering feeling in your body
his head whips froward when you let his soft locs go “you know i can’t doll, you know…” his words jumbling together, you only catch the beginning. your legs coming to wrap around to keep him close. your back arching up when he angles his hips just right to hit the back of your walls, his groin rubbing on your clit.
he has to collect his breath when you look so eternal laid out and moaning for him. you wetness coating him so much he has use his knees so that he has proper direction and doesn’t slip into you. he can feel your legs starting shake around his waist. "come on baby you don’t wanna do your favorite part ?”
he knows you have so much love for wrapping your hands around his throat, dominating him makes you feel in charge. but really it’s his favorite part. having to use all your focus to bringing your shaky hands to cut his air supply off holding his neck, not yet adding pressure. "harder doll" his hips still stroking you slow and steady.
he can feels his blood pulse to his length when your cut his air flow off. threatening an early release from him that he has hold you tightly to not spill to quickly. he likes the pain it makes his body buzz. causing the new found piston of his hips.his hips rolling deeply into you while your body start shake more. pressing your thumbs almost makes it seems like your trying to touch the back of his throat.
noticing the whites of his eyes slowly taking over his pupils from the lack of oxygen. his pale neck turned purple with how hard he had you holding him. your hands letting him go watching him gasp and groan. legs around his waist while he strokes you so consistently. his milky skin and his tattoos make you dizzy.
the long strokes makes you start to feel the pit in your stomach, the high creeping up on you. grabbing his lower back with both hands scratching near the base of his back. “jayyy”
your consuming him, controlling him from how your plushness surrounds him, from your nail creating pleasure. the first reaction of you when you can feel the sensation reaching from the tip of your toes to you the ache in your pelvis, from how deep his hips work into yours. is to bite him like how he does you, sinking your teeth in his shoulder
“ugh cupcake, your trynna k-” he shakes on top of you. your both almost at your peak, biting him harder when you can feel the tingles all over your body while your moaning into his skin. “your trynna… trynna” he mumbles more feeling the quake in his loins. while your thighs are trembling faster
you both coming to your high at the same time, pulling him so close to your body, letting him free from your teeth. moaning more “j-jay please” your eyes rolling back when you let your body go. letting the euphoria take over. your whole body shaking while he can feel your walls taking his cum in.
he kisses you to swallow your moans, the sounds vibrating against each other. your arsoual at the same time makes your souls combine together he lets your lips go when your body stopped buzzing. seeing your eyelids flutter close when he pulls out of you
when you wake up from you sex induced nap. your meet with three gold necklaces and 6 golden bracelets gracing your wrist, making you smile dreamily
Cam girl reader ends up working for her biggest fan without even knowing
Part one!
[ WARNINGS ]
18+ themes
Mature content
Strong language
Angst & emotional themes
✦ Violence & military themes
Slow burn
Potentially triggering subjects
Read at your own discretion
Nursing school drained ur pockets, it sounds terrible but it was the truth. You were a broke college student and after college you couldn’t seem to find anybody who was hiring nurses that were fresh out of school, so to make some money you decided you had no other choice but to go to men. You started small—told yourself that you were just going to be a bottle girl, picking up shifts every now and then, but that soon became being a cam girl.
Younger you would’ve never believed that you would ever go to that, but it really wasn’t that bad. You didn’t have to show your face, the pay was really good and you got pleasure from it too. You began to wonder if there were more levels to this, if maybe you should become a sugar baby —But that came to an end when you found a job to run an infirmary on a military base.
You were going to quit being a cam girl, it was only supposed to be temporary— but the more you thought about it, why couldn’t you do both. You had a lot of supporters. Your weekly income from just being a cam girl was $5000 , and that was just donations not counting the monthly subscribers. There was especially this one supporter: vilagantnorth You didn’t really understand it, but men had the weirdest names and kinks—that was something you learned fast. Every time you posted or streamed, he was always on it, sending you messages and gifts—especially when you were live. He’d ask for simple but specific requests, and then donate between $800 – $4000 When you first started working on base, you realized that everybody kept to themselves. You were told that you would be tending to everybody but mainly the 141 You spent your days getting charts together—as nobody seemed to have anything medical on record—but also decorating the infirmary to feel comforting and safe. You hated how sterile and cold hospitals felt. Almost everything in your office was pink. You understood that you were working with a whole bunch of military men, so you knew not to overdo it—but it was just enough to show who you were.
You would slowly acquire the charts and files for everybody on base, but your biggest priority was being information down for the 141. You start off with Price, him being the easiest to convince to fit you into his schedule—from there it was Gaz, Soap, and then Ghost. Aside from your knowledge Ghost was your biggest supporter. It’s not like he was some type of incel or anything it’s simply he had no time to build bonds or to consider anybody else but himself, at least that’s what he told himself.
He was almost always away with missions and when he wasn’t he was training rookies and planning new missions. Ghost was very specific when it came to what turned him on, and you fit every aspect to the tea. He liked thick thighs, smooth brown-skin, soft voices, basically everything you were and more. When you moved into base you continued to make videos and live stream—the walls were pretty thick so you never had to worry about anybody hearing you, but it's not like you made an effort to conceal your location—like you never covered your background or made sure nothing personal was in the frame.
Each dorm or barracks on base was the same exact layout, the only difference with yours was the fact that you had decorated it— magazines, 2000’s posters, and paraphernalia covering the walls, fairy lights, even your sheets were a baby pink. In some videos you could see a glimmer of ur pink stethoscope, or the hair clips you wore everyday—you thought nothing of it, and Ghost? He had been swarmed in with lately going from one deployment to another—he had had no time to watch and spoil his favorite girl, he couldn’t even think of that with how much he had going on. He had just returned from a deployment, but Soap as inconsiderate as ever—though he means no harm. Has asked him to take over his training session this afternoon, Ghost was a good friend—he’d train them better than soap could anyways, But it was hot, and he was already overworked, so it caught up to him. Standing in the blazing sun barking orders at rookies he starts to feel light headed, he’s gone through this before—it wasn’t his first time, but this was somehow worse, meaning he had to Go to the infirmary
Normally he thinks he’s above this, but Price had been in his ear all month about how now that they have a nurse mainly for them, there is no need to hold off on injuries that are just going to inconvenience the team in the long run—so he wraps training up and heads down to you.
You’re sitting in your office, humming whatever songs on your mind while mindlessly doodling on a chart—nobody really comes in like ever so you were shocked to see him. “Good afternoon Lieutenant” you greet him with a smile. He just grunts but it doesn’t really affect you. “uhh so how may I help?” you ask him. “Got heat exhaustion”
The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the lights and the faint sound of your pen tapping against the chart. The infirmary doesn’t feel like the rest of the base—yours always has that softer edge to it, like it forgot it was supposed to feel sterile.
Once he was seated, you did a standard checkup—then began to hydrate him and bring his temperature down so that’s what you did. You gave him three water bottles two of them with liquid iv in it then the last just plain water. After you were sure he’d be fine with a few days of rest, you got his chart and began writing everything down before you could let him go.
Simon couldn’t help but notice as you were sitting, your thighs—they didn’t seem familiar or anything but it made him think of his favorite camgirl and how he hadn’t watched in a while, he told himself that whenever he got back in his barracks he’d do just that.
He left as soon as you dismissed him, boots heavy against the tile, the back of his shirt damp where it clung to his skin. You watched him go for a second longer than you meant to, eyes caught on the breadth of his shoulders, then shook yourself and focused back on his chart.
Heat exhaustion. Overworked. Stubborn. Sounded about right for this place. You scribbled the last note, signed your name with the same lazy loop you always used, then slid his file into the growing stack. For a moment you just sat there in the quiet, the hum of the lights and the whisper of the AC the only sounds.
It had been a long day. A long month. Your phone buzzed once in your pocket, a notification from the app you knew by tone alone. You didn’t even have to check to know what it was: your stream reminder. Your schedule had become muscle memory by now—clinic hours, then cam hours. Nurse by day, fantasy by night.
You glanced at the clock. You still had time.
With a sigh, you stood, stretching your arms over your head until your spine popped. The infirmary looked soft again in the late-afternoon light: pink accents, fairy lights off but still looped neatly around your bulletin board, a little candle you weren’t supposed to have tucked unlit by your computer. "Alright," you muttered to yourself, turning off the main light and locking the door behind you. "One job down."
Simon made it back to his room on autopilot. Price’s voice was still in the back of his head, nagging about hydration, rest, use the bloody medic we’ve got now. He’d done that. He’d been responsible. Followed orders. Didn’t stop the headache pressing behind his eyes. He dropped his gear in a practiced pile, fingers tugging at buckles, shrugging out of his tac vest, peeling off his gloves. The room felt cooler than outside but still too warm; he grabbed another bottle of water from the mini-fridge, cracked it open, and swallowed half in a few long pulls.
He should’ve laid down. Instead, his brain circled back to the same place. Your thighs where they pressed against the edge of your chair. The way your voice dipped when you went from joking to serious.
Thick thighs. Brown skin. Soft voice.
He’d thought about his favorite girl for the first time in weeks, and now the thought wouldn’t let go. "Idiot," he muttered at himself, but he was already sitting down on the edge of the bed, laptop within reach. He hesitated for half a second, then pulled it closer and flipped it open. The screen lit his mask in pale blue as it booted. Habit took over—VPN, login, the familiar site’s homepage loading with a soft chime.
His notifications were stacked. Missed streams. Missed messages. Missed chances to not think about anything but the warmth of your voice through cheap speakers. He went straight to his favorites. Your name was at the top, A little green circle sat next to it—Live now. Your world became pink again the second the “Go Live” button confirmed. The ring light warmed your skin, the fairy lights behind you casting soft glows over posters and magazine spreads. You’d pulled on one of your usual tops—thin, low, lace—and smoothed your hands down the baby pink sheets to get the frame just right. Same room, different person.
"Hey, babies," you cooed, leaning closer to the webcam as the viewer count ticked up. "I missed you guys." The chat exploded in seconds.
oh she BACK MOMMY???? we been starving fr
You laughed, real and easy in a way you hadn’t in days. "Relax, I’m here now," you teased, tilting your head so your curls slid over one shoulder. "You know I can’t stay away from you for long." Tips started to drip in—small amounts at first, welcome-backs and little hearts—but you were waiting for a particular name. He hadn’t been around. You’d told yourself not to take it personally. People disappeared all the time. Life got busy, wallets got tight. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t glance at your notifications more often than you should’ve, looking for that one weird username.
Your eyes flicked over the scrolling chat. Nothing yet. You pushed the thought aside and slipped deeper into the role, letting your voice drop, your laugh linger, answering questions, teasing the regulars. The muscle memory of it all carried you. And then the chat flashed in a color you knew too well.
vilagantnorth: Back, then?
Oh.
"There he is," you purred before you could stop yourself, grin spreading slow and satisfied across your face. "I was wondering where you went, handsome." Warmth blossomed in your chest, a little knot of tension you hadn’t realized you’d been holding finally untangling. "Yeah, I’ve been gone a minute," you said, eyes catching on his name again. "Had to take care of a few things." You let your nails trace idle patterns over your thigh, letting the camera catch just enough. "But I didn’t forget you. I never do."
You shifted, angling your body so your thighs pressed together in a way you knew they liked, voice going softer. "You guys been behaving while I was gone?" On the other side of the screen, Ghost went very, very still. Your voice was the same. It had been in his head for months, late nights and rare days off, a soft, sinful soundtrack to the only time he let himself unravel. But hearing it now, right after hearing you say, Good afternoon, Lieutenant, in that same register— His stomach sank. He scanned the screen on instinct, cataloguing details like he was clearing a room.
Posters. Magazines from the early 2000s plastered across the wall. Fairy lights, looping unevenly. Pink sheets. His gaze snagged on the edge of the frame. There—just barely in view on a chair in the corner—was a familiar curve of plastic. an baby pink stethoscope, The same shade that had been looped around your neck this afternoon. He felt the bottom. It could’ve been coincidence. Plenty of nurses had pink gear. Plenty of women liked that exact aesthetic. Posters like that weren’t rare.
But the hum under your voice—the faint, distant thrum of generators, the rhythm of boots on concrete somewhere outside your walls—he knew those sounds. Knew the pattern of that ambient noise the same way he knew the weight of his own rifle. Your laugh sounded through his headset, rich and bright, and for the first time it echoed twice in his head: here, on the screen– there, in that pink-tinged infirmary.
His cursor hovered over the tip menu, muscles moving on habit. He shouldn’t—He really, really shouldn’t, but He sent it anyway. Four digits. The same range he always chose when he wanted your full attention. The alert crashed across the chat in a splash of color.
vilagantnorth donated $400
You froze. "Oh," you breathed, "There he is. I missed you too, love." You leaned in so close to the camera your boobs nearly brushed the lens, clevage spilling out into the frame. "Don’t go anywhere," you murmured. "You’re not getting rid of me that easy tonight." Ghost swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry despite all the water you’d forced on him earlier.
The longer you streamed, the looser you felt. Work stress melted behind the performance; you let yourself slide into it fully, teasing the chat, shifting your weight in ways you knew they liked, following requests that stayed within your lines. You’d gotten good at dancing the edge—giving enough to keep them hooked, never so much you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror after.
And like always, he was there. Asking for the same kinds of things he always did—simple, specific, never demanding. Complimenting, tipping big, then vanishing into the crowd again. You didn’t know who he was. You’d wondered, sometimes. Built little fantasies between streams. Maybe he was some tech guy with too much money and not enough time. Maybe he was older, or younger, or lived across the world. You’d never tried to dig. Boundary, you’d told yourself. Keep it clean.
But when you ended the stream hours later, muscles pleasantly sore, throat rough from laughing and talking, his last message stuck with you. stay hydrated this time You stared it for a second longer than the others, a crease forming between your brows. "Creepy," you muttered, but there wasn’t any real bite to it. More like a weird flutter. You shut everything down, counted your earnings with a practiced eye, and stretched. The room fell quieter when the computer whirred off, fairy lights now the only glow.
You hung the stethoscope back over the chair you’d dragged off-screen, peeled off your lace outfit, and crawled into bed. The sheets smelled faintly of your lotion and fabric softener. You were asleep in minutes.
Ghost didn’t sleep. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, mask pushed up just enough to free his mouth as he tried to slow his breathing. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw two versions of you overlaid: the nurse in pink scrubs, brow furrowed in concentration as you checked his pulse, and the cam girl on his screen, lip gloss catching the light as you moaned into your mic. It wasn’t the sex that rattled him, He was used to compartmentalizing that. Mission here, fantasy there. Mask on, mask off. It was the way the lines had blurred without his permission. You were real now. Not just some anonymous girl in a pretty room. You knew his file, his vitals, his medical history. You’d touched him with hands he’d watched do very different things online.
And you had no idea who he was. Not really, Not the man under the mask. Not the username sitting at the top of your donor list. He dragged a hand over his face, resisting the urge to rip the mask off completely. Tomorrow, he thought, jaw clenching. Tomorrow, you’re just the medic again. He’d go in, follow up like you’d told him to. Let you check his vitals, give some bland reassurance, write something down in that neat loopy script.
He’d say thank you, then he’d leave. He wouldn’t look at your thighs. Wouldn’t think about the way your voice sounded when you weren’t calling him "Lieutenant" but "love". Wouldn’t picture your pink sheets when he sat on the edge of your exam table. Keep it professional. He closed his eyes and, for the first time in a long time, prayed for dreamless sleep. Morning came too fast. Your alarm dragged you out of a heavy sleep, the sky outside your small window still pale. You groaned, rolled over, and slapped at your phone until the sound stopped.
For a second you considered calling in—claiming food poisoning or a migraine or anything that would let you stay wrapped in youe sheets and not think about charts and commanders and men who didn’t drink water. But the direct deposit from your actual job had hit last night. And it felt—good, Stable—So you got up. By the time you reached the infirmary, coffee in one hand and keys in the other, base was already waking up. Boots on concrete, trucks in the distance, shouted orders carried on the morning air.
You were halfway through organizing new files when there was a knock at the doorframe. You looked up to see Ghost filling the entrance, mask on, posture as stiff as ever—but his eyes lingered on you for a fraction of a second longer than they had yesterday "Good morning, Lieutenant," you said, setting your pen down and offering him a small smile. "Back so soon?"
He grunted, which you now recognized as his version of yes. "Said to follow up."
You nodded, gesturing to the exam bed. "Right. Come have a seat, then. Let’s see if you listened to me." He stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. And as you reached for your pink stethoscope, fingers brushing over the same curve of plastic that had sat in the corner of last night’s frame, he watched you with a tension he didn’t quite know what to do with. Because now he knows, And you still din’t. It was going to be a very long appointment
