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#and my god. the things you notice when you watch every single one of their scenes over and over again
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Veni, Vidi, Vici | Michael Gavey x fem!reader
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Summary: Things finally come to a head following the last of Michael's exams | Word Count: 3.2k~ | Warnings: p in v sex, virginity loss, somewhat tipsy sex
Part One : Quid Pro Quo Part Two : Carpe Diem
A:N: let's just ignore the fact this has been in my drafts since December 😘 And yes, I didn't come the first time either, it happens okkkk. Sorry if this is all over the place, I wrote half of it like four months ago and the other half last week soo
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Every single time she saw his username pop up on her computer, an involuntary smile spread across her face, and warmth pooled in her belly with the memory of that evening still fresh in her mind. She isn’t quite sure what she enjoys remembering more, his flushed cheeks and glasses askew or the way he was trying to adjust his cargo trousers to somewhat hide his erection by the end of their second tryst.
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After that short interaction though, she was surprised at his restraint, if not a bit impressed. She’d at least managed to avoid the irresistible pull of his company in time to finish the last of her exams. And as for Michael, were it not for the odd text message or the ‘active’ icon next to his username in MSN, she would have thought he dropped off the face of the planet.
Part of her can imagine him now, bent over his desk, twirling a pencil between his fingers, mind working like freshly-oiled cogs and pushing his glasses up his nose. Completely concentrated. And yet, he was still on his computer, with the application open, as if to test his own restraint.
And to be fair to him, he never cracked, not once. For the entire time since their last meeting and now, he never messaged.
With her own exams out of her way, she spent most of her time with Priya (albeit at the pub, with glasses of wine emptied as well as the details of every meeting she’d had with Michael Gavey).
“Oh my god, as if you are into nerdy little white boys!” she laughed with a cigarette perched between her two fingers and proclaimed far too loudly so that the entire pub heard.
“Shut u-” she retorted with a slap to her arm, “besides, not so little, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s like I hardly know you. I love it.”
“Stop it,” she retorts, sitting back in her chair with a flush to her face, “he's genuinely nice.”
“That's not what I heard,” Priya snorts, “I hear he had a hissy fit on like the first day ‘cos someone wouldn't ask him a sum.”
“He's very passionate.”
“Hm,” she widened her eyes, “let’s hope it translates.”
She presses her lips together to keep herself from smiling. Watching Priya’s mind tick will never get old.
“Oh my fucking god, is he a v-”
“Yes, Priya!”
She gasps in mock surprise, “you absolute gremlin. So you've not…?”
“Not yet,” she replies with a shake of her head, “told him we could after he's done his exams.”
“And you're making him wait for it? I had no idea you were so cruel.”
She shrugs, biting back a smile as her eyes drop to the table. Excitement bubbling in her belly.
Priya leans in, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "So, spill it then. What's the plan for the big night?"
She chuckles nervously, swirling the remnants of her wine in her glass. "I don't know, Priya. I've never been in this position before. It's like uncharted territory."
Priya's eyes widen with exaggerated shock. “My queen of confidence, feeling nervous? This I have to see."
She rolls her eyes, but there's a playful glint in them. "Oh, shut up. It's different when it's someone you actually like."
Priya nods understandingly, but then her expression turns mischievous. "Well, just remember to relax and enjoy yourself. And if all else fails, there's always wine."
She laughs, shaking her head. "Thanks, Priya. I appreciate the pep talk."
Priya grins, raising her glass. "To new adventures and nerdy white boys!"
As they continue chatting, her phone buzzes with a new message. She glances down at the screen, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. Priya notices her reaction and nudges her playfully. "Ooh, speak of the devil?"
She nods, trying to suppress her smile as she reads the message. "Yeah, he's just about to go in for his exam." 
Priya winks suggestively. "Maybe he's hoping for a sneak preview of what's to come? You know, for luck.”
“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes, typing off a quick reply of good luck, “remind me to never tell you personal shit ever again.”
“Mate, it's the suit. You're gonna see him in it and jump his di-”
“Priya!”
“What?!”
She should have known better really that wine tends to have this loosening effect on Priya. And she'd barely finished her own glass before it was time to hop off and meet Michael after his very last exam. It was the perfect day for it, with the sun blaring, everyone was in a good mood, with an electrifying and exciting atmosphere light in the breeze.
As she waited with the other groups of friends waiting to cheer on the examinees, she felt that pleasant roll of nerves in her stomach, biting her lip to contain her smile.
She thought that with some level of embarrassment, she was really really falling for this guy. Or this ‘nerdy, white boy’ as Priya so eloquently put it.
Her cheeks hurt from smiling when she saw his lanky, suit clad form saunter out of the exam hall. Her chest ached pleasantly when he hopefully scanned the crowd, watching others join their friends in celebration. And for a moment, she thought she detected the slightest hint of fomo.
But nothing compared to when he finally spotted her.
Though Michael tried to hide it, a thin lipped smile spread across his face, fiddling with the cap he held in his palms, looking down as if to hide his expression.
Her hands found the front of his suit, affectionately running over the material, “Hey. You look nice.”
He nearly rolled his eyes, “can't wait to get out of it. Too hot for this.”
The excited squealing and shouting stole both of their attention for a moment, particularly Michael's. He glanced sideways at the Felix Catton, with his newest toy, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.
She furrowed her brows, patting his chest, “who's that?”
Michael blinked behind his glasses, throat bobbing as he remained quiet for a moment, “No-one. Come on, let's go.”
As they settled by the tranquil riverbank, the gentle murmur of the water providing a soothing backdrop, they both relaxed into the moment. The weight of the exam stress began to lift, replaced by the lightness of shared laughter and companionship.
Sitting side by side, their feet dangling over the edge, they clinked their bottles together in a silent toast before taking refreshing sips. The sun cast a warm glow over them, painting the scene with hues of gold and amber.
Leaning back on their hands, they watched as birds soared overhead, their graceful movements adding to the serenity of the afternoon. Occasionally, a playful breeze would ruffle their hair, prompting soft chuckles and playful swats.
“So, have you decided yet?” 
She glanced at him over her shoulder, “what?”
He fiddled with his tie that he'd long taken off in somewhat of a nervous gesture, “it’s been 142 minutes.”
She furrowed her brows, trying not to look amused, “since what?”
He chuckled, trying to hide his nerves. “You said you'd consider being my girlfriend after exams.”
Her smile widened, a fondness evident in her gaze. “Oh, that? Well, I guess it's been 142 minutes too long then, hasn't it?”
She could see the way he was trying not to look too relieved. “Really?”
“Really,” she confirmed, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips. “But only if you promise to stop counting the minutes.”
He cocked his head, a breathy laugh falling from between his lips, a faint flush rising to his cheeks at the brief moment of contact. “No can do.”
She hummed a laugh, the lightness of the situation making her stomach flip, “Are the Carol Vorderman posters non-negotiable too?”
He threw his head up to the sky, “Fucking christ, I don’t have-”
“I know! I know!”
Had Michael seen himself months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined it, walking back to his dorm with a half-empty stomach and the alcohol to replace it with a tipsy waddle, and a girl’s hand closed in his, swinging at their sides.
Whereas campus was usually rife with busy students, toing and froing between the library, lectures and their dorms, today was calm, clear. And it felt as if for once, Michael could loosen the reins on the anticipation that had been building in preparation for his exams, and relax into the soothing company she offered. 
She laughed as he tripped over the threshold to his room, the tiniest drop of fruity cider still at the bottom of her bottle. Michael flushed and immediately went to unbutton his shirt, looking somewhat apprehensive.
“Leave it on, if you want,” she smiled coyly, watching the way a blush crept up his neck, his wide blue eyes beneath the frames of his glasses all shy with anticipation.
“...you sure?”
She nodded immediately, trying to calm his nerves. Though she could hardly blame him, she'd felt the same flutters in her belly when it was her first time. She was sure he was no different.
“Course, looks good on you anyway,” she mused, her fingers gently swatting his hand away playfully to undo only the top few buttons. Michael shivered at her touch there, sending waves of pleasurable nerves through his body.
They stood there for a moment, taking each other in, and as she set her bottle down on the desk, she couldn't help but lean in to press one, two, tipsy kisses to his neck. If she could see his face, his eyes had long since slipped shut, lips parted as if not knowing what on earth to say.
“I've…never done this before.”
“It's okay,” she whispered, breath hot on his skin, “I'll look after you.”
The cheeky smile she gave him made his heart almost stop dead in his chest. But his confession, and her calm receiving of it, seemed to bridge the gap between them, and when she turned her head to look at him, he captured the surprised gasp between his lips, and worked up the courage he'd built the last two trysts of intimacy into this one tender moment.
It was gentle at first, hesitant. But as their mutual desire overcame their initial shyness, it deepened in no time.
Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, careful fingers threading up over his nap to the sandy, blonde hair that had formed a subtle wave from the humidity. His own hands settled on her waist, pulling their bodies flush. And the softness of her lips and the anticipation of his hands drifting lower to the hem of her dress, had his stomach doing backflips.
They moved to the bed by sheer instinct, their kisses growing more urgent as she gently pushed him down and straddled his lap, all while his hands roamed her back, waist and lower towards her thighs, exploring the contours and curves of her body above him.
She pulled back slightly, her own face flushed from heat, feeling his hardness already between her legs where she was placed on top of him, “trust me, okay?”
Michael nodded, the bob of his throat betraying how nervous he was, “I do...”
She smiled, her own confidence calming his nerves, and guided his hands to the straps of her dress, showing without words that there was nothing beneath it. Michael himself let out a strained whimper when her hand crept up his thigh, and massaged his erection through his suit trousers, squeezing up his shaft to the sensitive tip.
“We can do it like this, if you prefer..” she whispered, wanting to do things the way he wanted for his first time.
He nodded, looking up at her with an expression that said everything, relief, “yeah, please..”
Her hands were tender and slow, undoing the heavy buckle of his belt and popping the button, each movement making the air feel hot in his chest. And emboldened by their intimacy, his own hands slid up her thighs, rolling the hem of her dress up to her hips, sighing against her lips and smirking when she whined at his grip.
“Fuck-” 
It was her turn to grin when she finally wrapped her hand around him, pulling him from the confines of his boxers and teasing him with her touch. His eyes dared to look between them, at her slender fingers around his cock, drawing both delicious pleasure and sending sparks up his spine. 
Her hips lowered, to grind herself on his length, and Michael nearly lost it there and then, even thinking about being inside her. To be honest, it was part of the reason he wanted to stay clothed, because he'd finish too quickly if he saw her completely naked.
“You okay?” She asked with a pleased smile, knowing her answer without needing an answer.
“Y-yeah…do I need…”
“It's up to you,” she reassured, “I'm clean, and I'm on the pill so…”
He nodded, secretly a little mortified at the idea of having his first time without protection on his part. It had always been drilled into him that, in truth, he was a little apprehensive, but the knowledge that she was careful, made him feel better about it.
“Do you want me like this?” She asked quietly, her lips at his jaw, pressing tiny gentle kisses, “me on top.”
“Yeah, yeah…”, Michael nodded quickly, his hands tightening at her hips. In truth he just wanted to do it, too wound tight and excited to care about the position.
She shuffled closer, trailing her lips down his neck as she pulled her underwear to one side. Truthfully the alcohol, as little as it was, had made her a bit needy for him the second he walked out of the exam hall. And being his first time, it was probably just as well he didn't feel the need to prepare her, assuming it'd be overwhelming for him.
Slowly she lowered herself onto him, the initial stretch stealing the air from her lungs for a moment. She could feel his breath come in ragged gasps. His grip tighten. And as soon as she felt him tense, she stopped and let him decide when he wanted to continue.
She was so warm and tight around him, Michael couldn't help at first but think it was uncomfortable. But once he took a breath, he could feel her silky walls envelop him, closing in with a desperate hold. It was hard to stay still. And that initial discomfort ebbed into relaxation.
She was about to ask if he was okay, but she let out a strained moan, as his hands pushed her hips down to meet his as he pushed up, pulling her on top of him so that she was flush to his body.
Her hands held him tight, he felt utterly different inside her than she had imagined. The stretch of him was a pleasurable pain at first, but once she'd relaxed and adjusted around him, after months of no sex, she felt herself grind on him slightly.
“Jesus fucking Christ-”
She smiled at that, leaning up to face him, “you okay?..”
“God, yeah, very okay-” he manages.
“Do you want me to-”
“Can I…” he asks, “please.”
“Y-yeah-” 
His hand slipped behind her neck, tugging her lips down to his, while the other slid down her back, pushing her down on him to meet him halfway with every tentative thrust into her. From this position, with her chest nearly flush to his, her breasts rippling over the top of her dress rhythmically, she could feel him deeper. And the sensation had her unable to form any coherent thought.
She knew he wouldn't last long. Judging by the way he was moaning lowly against her lips and how his hips stuttered as they moved.
She also didn't expect any kind of orgasm from the experience, fully wanting it to just be comfortable for Michael and nothing else. But when he pulls her down, his hands snaking around her waist tightly, and the cooling sensation on his glasses against her shoulder as he buries his head there, she finds that, whether he intended to or not, he brushes against her sweet spot.
Michael groans as she tightens around him slightly, each push inside of her fuels the numb, simmering sparks of an orgasm, slowly building, and she is powerless to stop it.
“Fffuck-”
And yet she can feel him losing momentum. He's worn himself out too early she can tell. So pushing herself off his chest, she sits up on top of him and does the work herself. Her thighs burn and she feels a bit self conscious being in full view like this, but it feels too good for her to care. She grinds her hips down on his length, looking down at Michael and watching his appreciative expression, his glasses skewed slightly.
His jaw goes slack at the renewed pace, and his hands remain on her waist as he throws his head back, brows furrowed, the tell tale sign he's nearly there. So concentrated on moving on top of him, she knows she won't come, but it still feels nice nonetheless.
And as she pushes her hips backwards and forwards on him, nudging her sweet spot more forcefully, she cries out, causing Michael to look down between them and watch the way he disappears inside of her, moist bodies slapping together.
“Oh fuck, fuck, I'm-”
Michael would be ashamed to say how much he's touched himself to the thought of that first night with her, when she knelt between his legs in the common room. Of course, it felt good. But finishing inside her, with her smooth, velvety walls sucking him in, fluttering around him, feels so entirely different. It's like being on another planet.
His hips give a few final mini thrusts up into her, before he stills, riding out his high and letting himself descend from heaven. He is only brought back, when she leans down to kiss his neck, trailing up to his jaw.
“You okay?...” She asks, her voice ragged and quiet.
Michael swallows through breaths he sucks in, “yeah…” he answers simply, glancing up at her and smiling through foggy lenses. “You?”
She laughs breathily, her fingers drawing patterns on his chest, “More than okay.”
“Even though you didn't…?”
“Don't worry about me. Tonight was for you,” she smiles, sliding off him to his side, and pulling her dress down slightly. “You did great, you know.”
He chuckles, tucking himself away, slinging an arm around her, “guess all that practice watching Countdown paid off.”
She snorts a laugh at that, the atmosphere lifting, “yeah, remind me to send Carol Vordermann an official thank you.”
Michael grins, feeling more relaxed now. "You think she'd respond? Maybe send me an autograph for my wall?"
She laughs, nudging him playfully. "Oh, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know she had such a positive impact on your life.” she smiles at him, tucking herself beneath the covers, “anyway stop talking about other women around me, I get jealous.”
“Sor-ry,” he smirks. Michael's grin widens as he pretends to ponder deeply. "Well, as long as you're teaching, maybe you could help me with all the different positions... in grammar, of course."
She laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement as he rolls on top of her, her legs parting instinctually. "Oh, absolutely, but I must warn you, I'm very thorough."
Michael replies, voice low and warm, his hand stealing between them both to slide his fingers between her thighs. “Good thing I'm a quick learner then.”
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174 notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 8 months
Note
PLEASE write more of geto being a perv🙏🙏
“pt.1” here
Geto x reader, in showing you how sorry he is for being a creep<3
perv!geto is my obsession atm
contains: fem reader, non consensual photography (reader is kinda ok w it), pervy roomate!geto, crack, gojo makes an appearance, talk of gojo wanting reader, sexual tension, cunnilingus, masturbation(geto), degradation, soooooooo much dirty talk, sweet!geto at the end<3
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
About a week ago you were watching a scary movie with geto on your laptop, drinks placed on the table next to it; dumbly.
So of course when the scariest jump scare you’ve ever seen in your life occurred, your legs jerked into the glass of liquid, spilling it all over your laptop and absolutely ruining it.
“God- Fuck! Noooo! nonono!” you shot up to grab a blanket, pillow, anything, to soak up the liquid, “TAKE YOUR SHIRT OF NOW,” you yelled in a panic to your dark haired roommate, who; you noticed throughout this entire excursion had barely moved a muscle to help, besides the muscles used to laugh at you.
“Babe I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that shit is beyond saving,” he laughed, placing his hand over his chest while he did.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I use my laptop every single, and day I absolutely cannot afford to buy a new one right now.” you placed your head in your hands in defeat.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” geto said, at the end of his fit of giggles at your expense.
“Yeah right, ur broke as shit too, that’s why we’re living together.” you said, muffled into your legs as your body had now fully collapsed in on itself.
“Yeah ur right, but that kinda hurts my feelings,” he said, smirk showing through his faux pout, “thought you liked livin’ with me,”
The two of you bickered back and forth for a while. You ended up putting the laptop in a bag of rice; to no avail, it was completely ruined.
Geto had been nice enough to let you use his laptop in the meantime; only when he was with you though, which you found slightly weird but at least you had access to it to some degree.
Right now you had the house to yourself though. Satoru had picked him up half and hour ago, saying something about wanting to try some new coffee shop with word famous sweets; that meant you had free range of his laptop.
You knew how to clear search history, so you would be fine. You just wanted to watch a movie anyways, nothing criminal.
Sneaking into his room, you unplugged the silver electronic, sliding it under your arm as you took it back to your room. Placing the laptop on your bed and getting comfortable against your pillows, you cracked it open, You had accidentally seen him type in his password before, so getting in was no problem.
What was a problem is what was on the screen when the laptop came to life. An entire folder of up skirt panty shots; and not just anyone’s panty shots; they were yours.
Scrolling through the decently filled folder, you noticed ones that dated back months ago. You saw a picture of you laying on your bed, head in your hands while you kicked your feet behind you; the short skirt you were wearing gave geto the perfect view of your unobstructed ass, slight pink peaking between your cheeks.
Other too, you doing more mundane things like sitting on your knees on the barstool you had in the house, poking out your ass, once again giving that dark haired pervert the perfect shot of your clothed mound.
You were almost impressed at how many there were, and how make different angles he was able to get without your knowledge.
Trying to wrap your head around the idea that yes, your sweet roommate who has never attempted to come onto you once, had a secret folder filled with lewd photos of you.
Saving the file, you sent it to yourself. Once you heard the chime on your phone you quickly copied the link, and sent it to the culprit himself, no other message attached to it but the folder alone.
——
“Ummm ooh, I’ll also get the triple chocolate cream filled crepe cake please! What do you want suguru?” gojo chirped.
Geto started at him with disbelief, he had just ordered 5 full size deserts with the longest name he’d ever heard; all sounding like a stomach ache and a half; and they were all for himself.
“Right..uh, i’ll just get the vanilla scone and a black coffee please.” Geto politely spoke to the man taking his order.
Gojo continued conversing with the cashier, finishing up ordering any last minute items and paying.
Geto felt his phone buzz in his pants, checking it quickly while gojo finished up the interaction; both of them starting to walk to booth in the corner of the cafe.
Suguru’s heart sank to his balls when he opened your message. He knew you were mad too, because you didn’t say anything else other than a link to his private folder of your panty shots. “Fuuuuuuuuuck haha,” geto laughed, hand coming up to cover his smirk as they slid into the booth.
“Huh? let me see, what happened?” Gojo nosed, trying to peek over the table at geto’s phone when he noticed it was the source of his distress.
“I might have to sleep at your house tonight, maybe for the rest of my life I don’t know.” he said, hand dropping back into his lap as he shut his phone off.
“Did you forget to do your dishes or somethin’?” he asked, knowing how angry you got at Geto when he didn’t pick up after himself.
“Yeah maybe, or maybe my roommate just found the upskirt pics i’ve been taking of them for the past couple months.” he giggled, slight remorse in the back of his head. Not from doing it, but from being caught.
Gojo’s jaw dropped, covering his own mouth as he let out a boisterous laugh. “Hahaha oh man, you really are fucked.” the blonde slapped his own knee, “I’ll let you co-sign my lease tonight,” he said, scared that if suguru went home, he might actually get murdered.
Geto kicked satoru’s shin underneath the table, making him wince. Their giggles died down at geto’s misfortune after awhile. “So..” gojo started, “Yer’ gunna let me see the pics right?” he asked, “Already hurt you didn’t tell me about this,” he pouted,
“In your fucking dreams satoru,” geto snorted. He already saw the way gojo looked at you when he was over, always making passes at you and touching you any chance he got.
He would be damned if his bestfriend got his hands on you before he did. “WHAT???” gojo yelled a little too loud for the tiny space they were in, resulting in him getting shushed by geto, “pleaseeeee, I know how good you are at taking pictures I bet they’re soooo gooood.” gojo wined, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head against them.
“Keep dreaming satoru.” he laughed. The whine haired man kept his pouting up for awhile, calling Geto selfish and unfair, his sorrow immediately being forgot about when the massive tray of his deserts finally came out.
——
When you heard the front door to your shared apartment finally crack open open a couple hours later, you were in your bedroom.
His laptop had been tucked away in your bedside table in confiscation, while you awaited with a racing heart, for him to knock on your bedroom door.
You heard him place his keys on the table through the thin walls, then you hear his heavy footsteps as he starts to make his way to your room.
The air was still when the footsteps came to a stop in front of your door. You were feeling a lot less confident than you were before he got here, now the thought of confronting him made your mouth feel dry; heart beating out of your chest.
Finally, the knocks were being rapped on your door, you swear you died for a second when you heard his familiar voice call your name, followed by him asking politely if he could come in.
"Its open," you yelled back. When the wooden door creaked open and his frame came into view, you had to fight off all the neurons in your brain telling you to look away from his hooded eyes.
You felt like you couldn't breathe, the tension in the room was so thick it could be cut through with a knife. You had no idea why, but the current situation was admittedly arousing.
You stayed silent for a while, just staring at each other, neither one of you daring to break eye contact first, "So? What do you have to say for yourself?" you asked, voice coming out a lot less confident than you wanted.
"Im sorry." he replied, swallowing thickly, quickly sucking his lip into his mouth to wet it.
"You're sorry for what?" you asked clarifying, This wasn't going how you expected.
"I'm sorry for being a pervert and taking panty pics of my roommate." He said, taking a couple steps towards where you were sitting at the edge of the bed.
"Are you really sorry?" You asked, voice full of need, as you did your best to supress it, trying to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.
"So sorry" he answered, having made his way inches away from you, eye contact still not being broken. You both noticed how heavily you were breathing, his eyes flitting down to your lips for a second before he sucked his lip into his mouth again, and letting it slide out, dark eyes meeting yours again.
The only thing you heard was your heart beat loudly in your ears as you spoke your next words, "Show me how sorry you are."
----
"Mm so fucking sorry," geto's voice vibrated against your clit.
"F-fuck ohmygod," You moaned at the feeling of him wrapping his lips around the bud, tongue peeking through to flick at it.
"A-again-" you whined,
"'M sorry," he groaned, staring up at you with a smirk as he released your clit, flattening his tongue over the sensitive bud.
You were laid back, ass placed at the end of the bed, Geto was sitting back on his heels as he perched himself on the floor between your thighs, hand rapidly stoking over his throbbing cock.
"W-wipe that sm-ile off your face" you wined, trying to keep the little hold you had over geto.
He didnt stop smiling, but you could'nt tell when he burried his tongue inside your pussy, pressing his face hard into your wetness and shaking his head. His pointed nose rubbed your clit in the most delicious way when he did that.
"S-so fucking dirty" you chastised at how sloppily he was eating your cunt. He was trying to fuck his apology into your pussy with his tongue, really trying to prove how sorry he was.
Loud slurping noises bouncing off the walls and going straight to your head; and to his cock; making you both dizzy at the situation.
"Sorry I'm so nasty," he groaned, muffled by your folds as he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it.
Quickening the pace of his hand against his cock, he was squeezing it the same way your walls squeezed his tongue, trying to mimic the feeling. Pre was dripping steadily from his cock and onto the floor, leaving a little puddle there.
Geto was getting off on this so hard.
Every time you squeezed your thighs around his head and degraded him, his abs clenched, balls tightening with the need to blow his load.
"O-only thing youre good for is eating my pussy, f-fuck" you said meanly with a whimper, eyes dropping down to his handsome face and seeing how fucked out he looked from your words, as he nodded his head and moaned into you, agreeing with you.
He needed to you keep talking to him like that, to keep humping his face, suffocating him, treating him like a bitch, he needed it.
"Use me-" he cut himself off as he moved his mouth back up to your clit, making out with the little bud messily, "wanna show you how sorry I am." he drunkenly smiled at you.
You gripped his hair in a makeshift bun, rolling your hips against his face as he stuck his tongue out for you to get yoruself off on.
Groans of "mhm mhmm" could be heard from Geto between your legs, pumping his cock impossibly faster feeling your wetness gush out of you from his minstrations.
"Ohmygod feels so good- shit-" You wined, tipping your head back, feeling your orgasm build quicky as you rubbed against his tongue just right.
His chin was absolutely covered in your slick, pretty eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself get pushed towards the edge as well, abandoning his hand keeping your thigh spread to join his other between his legs. He massaged his balls between his fingers, increasing the pleasure he felt while you worked towards your end together.
"Fuck t-tell me your sorry again," you whimpered out, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, "Sorry" his deep voice immediately groaned out, cock throbbing when you yanked on his hair.
"Ag-ain" your moans broke up your speech,
"Sorry, m' sorry, sorry-" He kept babbling against your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through you.
You were feeling hotter at the strange power dynamic going on, using that to your advantage as he kept mumbling the word into you, sending you straight into the most mindblowing orgasm of your life.
"Coming f-uck fuck f-" your voice getting cut off as your stomach started contracting and jerking, you rode your high out on his tongue while he groaned a lengthy moan into you.
Behind where your vision was blocked by the bed, Geto was cumming all over his hand and the bottom of your comforter.
Geto's eyes repeatedly rolled back in his head, hand massaging his cum out of his balls as he stroked himself roughly through his orgasm.
Finally being able to breathe when you loosened your legs from their hold on his neck, dropping your hands from his hair as you laid back on the sheets. Geto's hands wet with his seed came up to massage your thighs, his head rasing from between them.
You both took a second to breathe heavily into the open air, your cunt as his cock alike twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms.
You felt his hold on you cease for a moment, a couple seconds later something was bouncing heavily next to your head. When you turned your head you were faced with a brand new, rose gold laptop, still in its packaging.
You looked back up at geto, who was now standing, running one of his damp hands through his hair, "If me eating your pussy didnt prove how sorry I am, I hope this will." He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Fuck, Geto are you serious?" you beamed, picking your limp body up from the sheets and holding the package in your hands, he smiled at you fondly, watching you tear it open like a kid on Christmas.
Peeling the plastic from the cardboard you spoke, "Still making you delete all those photos by the way," resulting in him tipping his head back in a loud groan of defeat.
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begaycommittreason · 8 months
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honestly i forgot that dick originally wanted to adopt jason as well just imagine how chaotic that would’ve been like
——————
jay: uh what’s for dinner
dick: well we have cereal and…
dick:
dick: hey don’t kids like the whole breakfast for dinner thing?
jay: i miss alfred
——————
dick: and for a bed i’d like to introduce you to this lovely thing called a futon!!
jay: …better than a cardboard box i guess
——————
jay: can i fight crime yet
dick: you’re a child
jay: you’re a slightly larger child
dick: …fair point, no extreme violence and minimum 4 flips per patrol
——————
dick: when a mommy and daddy love each other very much—
jay: i am not doing this with you dickface i know what sex is
dick: wait no little wing i have a powerpoint presentation. it’s color coded and everything!
jay: i wish i’d stayed on the street
——————
dick: okay that’s enough, you know what, get on top of the fridge
jay, hissing: this house is a fucking nightmare
——————
jay: hey some friends at school wanted to watch a movie, is it okay if they come here—
dick: yes, yes! oh my god finally i’m so proud you’re making friends jaybird, i’m gonna be the coolest host dad ever i’ll make pizza and
jay, already on the phone: yeah he said no, sorry guys, can we do it at tommy’s?
——————
dick teaching jason trapeze and circus stuff 😭
——————
jay: god the circus is so lame
dick: exCUSE ME i’m disowning you, get out
jay: WHAT
——————
dick, who forgot to pick up jay from school: oh god i’m so sorry, i’ll never do it again
jay, who’s thrilled to be allowed in the library after hours every time, but never one to pass on a guilt trip: wow dick i never thought you of all people would abandon me
——————
dick: listen my support group says-
jay: you joined a support group for single moms dickface, that doesn’t count
dick: it does too, they all think i’m very brave for doing this alone
jay: for fucks sake-
——————
dick, coming home late from a date and seeing the lights on: uhh hello?
jay, sitting on a stool: and just where have you been all night young man?
dick: IM 26
——————
jason, pointing at the wayne family photos: so who do we like, and who do i hate on principle
dick:
dick: okay so this is complicated
jason: there’s only like three living people??
dick: right. so—
——————
dick, who pulled an all-nighter working on a case: good morning!
jay, who was reading jane austen and didn’t notice the sun came up: right…morning
dick:
jay:
dick: you didn’t sleep did you
jay: well clearly neither did you
dick: fair enough, coffee?
——————
jay: so this guy was shovin’ me around and-
dick: i’ll kill him
jay: …no.
dick: but-
jay: his mom’s the librarian and i can’t afford to fall out of sharon’s good graces
——————
dick: look it’s not my fault i’m so charismatic
jay: i’m not asking for a lot here
dick: you’re asking me to suppress my nature
jay: i’m asking you to stop flirting with all my teachers at parent teacher conferences
dick: c’mon it’s not that big of a deal
jay: …miss shields gave me her phone number to pass along the other day. so did mr. burnes, it’s getting outta hand dick
dick: oh i see, this is serious
dick: she’s really cute, maybe i should-
jay: STOP IT
——————
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lovebugism · 2 months
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hi bug! Can I request you a ditzy or shy!reader where some girl flirts with Steve in front of her maybe at Family Video? Little angsty because she feels insicure of herself? Thank you🩷
ty for requesting!! — steve doesn't realize he's being flirted with because he's so in love with you (ditzy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)
You color in a scribbled heart with enough vigor to break the pink crayon in your hand.
Steve always hangs your drawings in his locker in the Family Video break room, so you tend to take your art pretty seriously. ‘Cause there’s absolutely nothing humorous about the two stick figures holding hands — each of them vaguely resembling the both of you — that you’re passionately scribbling behind the front counter.
He’d watch you work your magic on a piece of lined scrap paper if he could. He’s too busy tending to a regular now. Mia, he thinks, or maybe Maia. She rents movies every week, but according to the system, she doesn’t watch a single one of them. 
“Well, what do you recommend?” she questions with a smirk on her painted lips, leaning her elbows on the counter until her chest juts out.
Steve leans slowly backward and tries not to cough at the overwhelming scent of her fruity perfume. “Uh… I don’t know,” he answers with an unenthusiastic shrug. “I usually just watch whatever.”
The girl squints her dolled-up eyes. “You don’t have a favorite movie?” 
Steve ponders the question for a moment. ‘Cause he doesn’t have one, really. All his favorite films are your favorites because he spends the majority of movie nights watching you instead.
So, at a loss of how to answer, he tells her your first choice. “The Star Wars movies are pretty alright.”
“Do you have them here?” she wonders.
Steve nods and points her in the other direction. “Yeah. In the Sci-Fi section.”
“Can you show me?” the girl questions with a hopeful glint in her pale eyes. Everything about her sparkles with mischief, like a predator hunting for prey. Stealthy, like a ninja, Steve would’ve called the approach a couple years ago. Long before he found you.
He’s more into forthright proclamations of love these days — bubblegum pink lipstick stains pressed to his cheek and handmade pictures drawn in crayon.
But, for the sake of Keith totally reaming him for not helping a customer, Steve nods and rounds the front counter. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Follow me,” he urges halfheartedly, sparing you a forlorn glance as he goes. You’re much too distracted to see it, though.
You’re too distracted to notice most things, really.
That’s why Robin’s angrier than you are about the whole thing. She exhales a big huff and stands across from you, peering over the tower of tapes there. “God, he’s so oblivious,” she groans.
Your hand freezes as you color in Steve’s vest. You glance up at her with wide eyes, heart sinking at the annoyed look on her freckled features. “Huh?”
“Steve. That girl’s been drooling over him for five minutes, and he hasn’t even realized.”
Your brows pinch. “What girl?”
“The one that’s hanging all over him,” Robin answers, nodding her head to the other side of the store. The girl in question lingers at Steve’s side, a little too close to be casual. She hangs on every word he says — which certainly can’t be a whole lot, considering he knows next to nothing about that Star Wars franchise.
“I thought she was just being nice,” you shrug.
“She was flirting with your boyfriend,” Robin corrects in a monotone. “It was disgusting. I’m pretty sure her flirt got all over my pants.”
You look back at the two across the room. Steve tenses when the pretty redhead presses her chest against his arm. For the sake of not making things totally awkward, he forces himself not to shrink away. What had seemed virtually innocuous to you now makes your stomach ache. 
“She’s so pretty…” you observe quietly to yourself. 
Robin only scoffs. “Yeah. If you’re into girls like that.”
You don’t know exactly what she means, but it makes you lean slightly forward in interest anyway. “Do you think… Do you think Steve’s into girls like that?”
“No,” Robin answers, features twisted like it’s obvious. “He’s into girls like you.”
For the first time ever, you find that slightly hard to believe. Why would Steve ever pick you over someone like her? The way she smiles is pretty. The way she laughs is pretty. Even the way she talks is pretty.
And what do you have? A couple of stupid crayon portraits?
A strange feeling sears your chest when Steve and the pretty girl walk back to the counter. He must’ve told her a joke or something ‘cause she tips back her head to laugh loudly in response. Jealous tears sting your eyes accordingly. You take your art and your box of dull crayons and scurry off to the break room.
“I can help you check out!” Robin offers, suddenly very chipper. 
The redhead’s face twists. “Oh. I thought that—”
“Steve’s needed in the breakroom, actually,” Robin tells her when the stranger’s pleading eyes flit to the boy beside her. “I can handle it from here.”
“Wait— What’s in the breakroom?” he wonders obliviously.
“Your girlfriend, dingus.”
Steve blinks once. The sudden lack of your presence makes his chest ache. He stalks off to find you without another word.
The redhead, Mia or Maia or whatever, doesn’t bother to disguise the shock painting her dainty features. “Girlfriend?” she echoes, quiet with disbelief.
Robin nods and takes the tapes from her hands, knowing she’s only renting them ‘cause she thought Steve liked them. The scanner beeps as she rings them up. “Yeah. He’s kinda in love with her, turns out. It’s disgusting.”
The conversation fades the further Steve gets down the hall. He opens the door to the back room with a grating squeak. The rusted hinges screech again in protest when he swings it shut behind him. He finds you slouched over the table, vehemently scribbling with vibrantly colored crayons.
He can’t help but smile at the sight of you. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts in place of a greeting, sliding back a chair to sit across from you.
“Nothin’…” you mutter distantly.
Steve folds his arms over the tabletop and rests his chin on top of them. It bobs with every word. “Why’d you leave me, huh?”
You shrug with a faint I don’t know type of sound.
“Can I see what you’re drawing, at least?” 
He grins and reaches for you without thinking — because you always let him see. Needless to say, when flinch suddenly away from him, it scares him far more than it should. You scramble to cover the paper with your arms like you’re doing something wrong. 
“No,” you answer in a mousy voice.
A chuckle spills from Steve’s mouth. “What? Why? You always show me.”
“It’s stupid…”
“It’s not stupid! I love when you draw stuff for me,” the boy insists with a lopsided smile, distantly surprised by your sheepishness. The pretty pink grin slips from his mouth at the crestfallen glint in your eye. He softens without thinking. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did— Did Robin say something?”
“No.” 
“Then what?”
You avert your eyes from his prying ones, feeling half-suffocated beneath his honeyed gaze. You start to color again with an absentminded hand, if only to have something else to look at. “You’re just…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. “You’re too pretty.”
He laughs before he means to. “What?”
“You’re pretty, and I don’t like that other people get to look at you,” you confess quietly, coloring in Steve’s hair with the ‘deep golden’ crayon. “It’s not fair— No one else should think you’re as beautiful as I do. I don’t like that.”
Steve props his chin on his palm and hides his grin behind his fingers. He reaches for your busy hand with his free one to get your attention. “Well, you know what?” he starts when your eyes flit up to his. “You’re the only one I want looking at me. So what everyone else thinks doesn’t really matter.”
“It is when they’re drooling all over you,” you answer with a scrunched nose.
Steve can’t help but scoff out a laugh. Those words have Robin Buckley written all over them. 
“Last I heard, Rob was giving that girl what for, so… you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he tells you, both to soothe the misplaced jealousy and to make you smile. He thinks it only half works. “Can I tell you a secret?”
You perk up at that. Steve grins and leans in close like he’s about to confess something serious. His dark eyes twinkle with mischief. 
“I’m so stupid in love with you that I forget other girls exist sometimes,” he murmurs in true secret-spilling fashion. “And when they’re… drooling all over me? I don’t even see it. ‘Cause all I’m thinking about is how I have my own girl back home. And that I’d much rather have her drooling on me.”
“…Am I the girl?” you press in a tiny voice, just to be sure.
“Yes, baby, I’m talking about you,” Steve chuckles. “You should know that— You’rethe one drooling on my pillow every morning.”
Your nose scrunches sheepishly. “You’ve said that word too many times… It doesn’t sound real anymore.”
“What’s that called again?”
“Semantic satiation,” you answer without missing a beat.
“Well, now I’m gonna tell you I love you ’til you’re semantically satiated,” the boy teases with a knowing squint in his eyes. “‘Cause I love you.”
“Steve.”
“I love you.”
“Stop,” you say, sterner now, though your gaze still glimmers with something soft. Your eyes follow his form when he rises from the table, shifting the short distance to sit in the chair closest to you. “Steve, stop—”
“I love you,” he repeats, anyway, taking you into his arms and smacking a dramatic kiss to your warm cheek. Between each innocuous peck, he mumbles, “I love you— I love you— I love you—”
Steve doesn’t stop kissing you until he hears you giggling again. The pretty sound brightens the dull breakroom. And all he can think about is what a lucky schmuck he is. To get to kiss you and make you laugh forever.
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priniya · 10 months
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📸 END UP HERE
synopsis. when a guy keeps harassing his best mate’s cousin, there’s not a single thought on his mind that would make theo feel bad about wanting to beat the shit out of him.
theo nott x lestrange!reader. PLEASE. request more things for theo or mattheo. i’m literally in need.
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theo couldn’t remember the exact moment, when his mind filled the urge to hit cormac mclaggen as hard as possible. on second thought, he definitely could.
theo’s been watching you ever since the party started. you were standing in the corner of the room, trying to get as little attention as possible — you wouldn’t even been there if amelia didn’t beg you to be her emotional support, so considering you were the best roommate (and friend) she could imagine, you said yes. maybe it was just the start of mistakes you were supposed to make that night, or so you thought.
you had a tight, dark red dress on you that hugged all your curves in the places it should. your make up just made you stand out from all the girls there, that’s what theo thought when he saw you. of course, you didn’t want to be there, but you couldn’t just pass on an occasion to dress up a bit, since you were going anyway. maybe your clothing choice was another of those mistakes.
nott’s attention was fully on you — a girl tried to hit him up? too bad, because she wasn’t even half as pretty as you were, and he knew you didn’t even try. it became obvious to all his friends that you were… quite a distraction. he would engage in a conversation, trying hard to have his focus on his friends, but then you would do something, and he felt obligated to look at you, but you were clearly oblivious to his gaze averting and coming back every once in a while.
“can you stop eye-fucking my cousin?” draco groaned, leaning on the wall behind them, bringing a cup to his lips, taking a small sip of alcohol. “it’s disgusting.” he added.
draco malfoy was the only reason that kept theodore from getting his hands on you, at least that’s what he would always tell people he bluntly ignored, when you walked into the room he was in. just because draco treated you like a sister, people thought nott would get a hold of his hormones.
but how could he, when you always looked so gorgeous?
“i’m not eye-fucking her, i’m a cultured man.” he said, getting lots of mocking laughs from mattheo and lorenzo (“you? a cultured man? never heard that much bullshit in my life.”). “i’m admir— ouch, c’mon, malfoy.” his fingers massaged the place that the blonde boy punched.
it all happened later that night, when nott was already a little lightheaded from a blunt he was smoking with mattheo. even if he didn’t want to concentrate on you, it was pointless, so he just watched you, shamelessly, being teased for it by his friend at the same time.
he noticed that cormac fucking mclaggen cornered you, and you had no possible chance to run away from him, your eyes scanning the room, looking for help until your gaze landed on theodore’s face, and he knew immediately. you watched him get up from the couchy, mumbling something to riddle before he made his way towards the corner you stood in.
he didn’t even say a thing, the discomfort in your eyes was enough to assume everything. he tapped the gryffindor’s shoulder, quickly throwing his fist forward, and you could’ve swore to god that you had heard bones crushing. theo just grinned mischievously as cormac looked at him a confussed expression, brushing his lip with his thumb.
but nott didn’t stop himself there, starting a fight. while mclaggen’s friends tried to pull the poor gryffindor away from theo, mattheo and enzo just stood behind him, with wide, prideful grins on their faces, shouting once in a while to encourage theo to “crush his skull”. if it wasn’t for blaise, who finally appeared (with amelia right beside him), the fight would go for probably even longer until one of the teachers didn’t interfere.
“stay the fuck away from her, mclaggen.” dark-haired spat at his opponent, the adrenaline running through his veins, so the bruises didn’t hurt at all. not until he was sat by the edge of the bathtub by you, when he realized that his face was throbbing with pain.
“theo.” you whispered, stading right between his legs, trying so hard to focus on patching him up more than the burning sensation of his hand on her hip. hearing the way you said his name almost made him groan — you were so perfect in his eyes that if he manned up, his hands would be everywhere, not just your hip. “could you please lift your head for me?”
there was something so incredibly intimate about that moment. he just fought for you, and instead of getting mad, you were right next to him, cleaning his face and hands off the blood, speaking so softly and touching him with such a gentle manner that theodore thought he died and woke up in heaven.
“i thought you said you wouldn’t be fighting random guys anymore.” you began, brushing his hair back, so you could press the wet towel to his forehead. “was he making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone a little raspy.
“well, yeah but–”
“then it wasn’t random.” theo shrugged, and if you two were in different circumstances now, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crashing your lips into his. “he should’ve known that you’re my girl.” he mumbled as his hand slipped down on your thigh, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.
“you looked so good tonight.” he muttered after a minute of silence as you kept trying to concentrate on helping him first. a sigh left his lips as he pulled you a little closer. “i want to rip that dress off you, jesus. what are you doing to me?”
it took him one more swift pull to get you to straddle him. his fingers traced soft circles on your outer thighs as you were silently finishing up your job. your entire body was burning. unfortunately, your face was revealing the effect he had on you, and you hated it, because theo always made it his mission to make you blush as hard as possible.
the thing between you two was… indescribable. you weren’t a couple, but you acted like one, you weren’t friends with benefits, but you weren’t just friends. there were feelings involved and neither of you denied. there were mutual attraction, desire, urgency and neither of you could see themselves with someone else. if soulmates existed, then theodore faustus nott was yours and no one else’s.
“alright.” now, it’s your turn to sigh. you put the towel aside, cupping his cheeks, scanning his face for more bruises to patch up. when you were sure that you treated every single one, you let yourself relax, getting a soft chuckle from theodore. “you worried me, theo.”
he mumbled something under his breath, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, since he found his face nuzzling in your neck, leaving small kisses in the spots that he knew would make you shiver. he inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo and perfume. oh, and did it drive him crazy.
he picked you up, your legs wrapped around his hips as he walked the two of you to his bed, merlin help how weak he felt, but carrying you around was something he did every single time you were at his dorm. theo put you down, letting you get comfortable in his sheets (he bought them, just because you said it looked pretty — so now he had floral themed sheets). on the other hand, he was searching for some clothes you always wear, so you wouldn’t suffer in a tight dress.
maybe he never directly said he loved you, but his actions and behaviour towards you was enough to tell you he did.
you’ve changed into clothes he gave you, allowing your… situationship to help you unzip your bra, and you fell down on his bed. it took you a brief moment to realise that you were still in your goddamn makeup. a long sigh escaped from between your lips. theo’s face lit up with confusion, although he understood why you were lazily getting up from his bed.
“you don’t have to go back.” he smirked, looking you up and down, admiring how gorgeous you looked in his shirt, pictures of him ripping it off you started playing in his head. god, the things he’d like to do to you right now. “i hated how you complained about your makeup stuff. bottom drawer is all yours. everything you need.”
and to be honest, you almost cried upon seeing what he prepared for you. any possible kinds of makeup remover (creams, lotions, gels), tissues, pads and tampons, cotton balls, all those products that he noticed you used for your hair and skin-care essentials, he even stocked your favourite shampoo that you told him wasn’t produced anymore. there were even the same exact products you used to put on your makeup, perfect matched foundation shade, all kinds of eyeshadow palettes you liked, lipsticks, chapsticks, lipglosses, even the glitter and gems you used for yule ball once.
“theodore faustus nott, you are so incredibly pussy whipped, i’m shocked it’s possible.” your laughs filled his chamber, when you got back from the bathroom. “at the same time, it’s so attractive that you bought all of that for me.”
“shut up, lestrange.” he rolled his eyes, his hand wrapping around your leg, pulling you onto him. “i would kill for you if you asked.” he mumbled against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses from your jawline down to collarbone.
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chososdiscordkitten · 3 months
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Kneel.
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Synopsis: Priest!Nanami being completely and utterly tormented by nasty thoughts of reader (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
Pairing: Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: pwp, plot before porn, catholicism, questioning faith, sooo much guilt, reader is 29, nanami is 34, reader kinda mysterious -.-
MDNI
Nanami’s life as a priest was busy- no time to be bored, nor time to yearn for more. Two or three funerals a month, mass every day- more than twice on Sundays. A handful of weddings a year, the many church groups he would oversee. His schedule was almost always fully booked.
His life was steady- a routine he followed every day. A life he was riding down happily. 
And when that peaceful life hit a bump, Nanami felt his life could be derailed entirely if he allowed it. 
‘I do it for my god.’
‘I do it for my parish.’
That’s what Nanami reminded himself of when your eyes would catch onto his. 
Preaching Sunday mass to the churchgoers- trying to direct his words to everyone. But whenever he did a scan of the room, his eyes stuck onto you for a brief moment.
Unable to shake the split-second thought of how you were the kind of woman he would have talked up in his 20s. He would shoo them aside before his expression could show what he was thinking. Placing his focus on preaching, instead of you.
You, who always sat at the very back of the church hall. And always with a questioning peak on your brow. 
But only you never stayed long enough after the service was over for him to properly introduce himself. Always walking out the minute the church-goers stood up to bid farewell to their neighbors. 
Even if he was held back by shaking hands- praising him for such a wonderful sermon. Nanami’s eyes still caught a glimpse of you that left the giant wooden doors of the church. Even more so, the clicking of heels against the tile- proud steps away from him as though you had completed your task.
Never did you stand for the sacramental wine nor the offering of the body of Christ. You only stayed in one of the pews at the very back and watched the line of merry people take them from his hands. A tilted head in curiosity with a small smile, as though you were poking fun at them in your mind. 
Day by day, sermon by sermon, you started inching towards him. One pew after the other. And when he finally noticed how close you had gotten, a mere 4 benches away from him. Nanami could see you up close now- the revealing collarbone that stood prominent with every inhale you took, the curve of your neck when you tilted it to the side. And every slight squint you would make as he spoke. 
Seeing you from a distance was one thing- being able to hide his catching gaze whenever he would address the flock. 
But now, he could see you even closer, his eyes catching onto how your lips would slightly purse. Almost in disbelief—when he would recite direct words from the Bible. Caused him to stutter over his words, excusing himself quickly before continuing. 
The part that made his mind reel was the congregation avoiding you. As though you weren’t even there. And Nanami knew this was impossible. A beautifully haunting churchgoer would’ve been swarmed by the single men of the church. 
But to you, they never mattered. Always swatting them away with one harsh look- at times, the aura you held was enough for them to steer clear. And the women of the flock didn’t find it very church-like that you did not greet them upon entry nor bid goodbye to your neighbors when the service was over. 
And the blatant isolation only made Nanami worry- knowing the church’s people can be judgemental at times. 
The Father blamed his priest nature for wanting to introduce himself. Knowing you had been attending for a few weeks now, and wanting to see if you were finding your way in the congregation.
Seven years wearing the white collar made Nanami think he had some sense when it came to acknowledging a troubled soul. However, the unfazed expression you would hold as he spoke and the slight look back at him when you would leave the church, left the man more troubled than you could ever be. 
At once, while he was speaking- preaching the words he carefully chose from the good book. Nanami’s eyes caught onto yours. Stuttering over his words as he watched you raise a brow and tilt your head, all with a vexing smile on your painted lips. 
As though you were taunting him for the stumbling, he saw it in the way you looked at him. Nanami felt your gaze on his skin as he spoke. Felt it burn into him with every word.
And when you finally lined up with the others during the eucharist. His jaw clenched, a sprinkle of nerves coating his hands as he watched glimpses of you through the line of people. Even lined up- you stood out. 
As you came closer to him with every person he gave the small wafer to, Nanami felt his heart start to pound. Never spoken to you- never even introduced himself. And his heart was racing. 
When you stood before him; Thick eyelashes and plump lips greeted him with a small smile. 
Blinking softly and looking up at him, parting your mouth and pressing the tip of your tongue to your bottom lip. Nanami inhaled, his hand lightly trembling as he held the little cookie. 
Looking into his eyes as he placed the weightless wafer to your bottom lip. His adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp, watching you pull the wafer into your mouth with a grin before leaving the line. 
The interaction wasn’t longer than a second- but it shook the Father to his core. Knowing that for the first time in the seven years of being in the priesthood, the first time since he was ordained– he had questioned his faith. 
For the rest of the mass, Nanami couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. With every blink, he saw a flash of you, softly batting your eyelashes up at him with your lips parted. Even more so when he would scan the audience and see your face, a smirk on your expression, as though you were aware of the torment you had inflicted on the priest. 
Nanami didn’t know what brewed in his soul; he had no clue what called him to you. Why you were so tempting. 
That evening, when the large room was emptied. The Father prayed. He prayed and repented for the wisping thoughts that dared enter his mind. 
‘Let me help this woman,’ he prayed, ‘Let me help you find your way.’ as though he was speaking to you directly, unaware of what plagued you or why you ended up in the church's halls. 
Pleading with the ethereal being in the clouds to help him. To help him see why you were put before him. And what lesson you were meant to teach him. 
Even as he was preaching the words written in the Bible. He would pray in his mind- begging the Lord to rid him of the plaguing thoughts of you.
When he would kneel, close his eyes, hold his hands together against his lips and pray to his god; Nanami always expected some divine insight to race into his mind once he rose from his knees. He always hoped his god would tell him how to fix his issues. 
And so far, it had been a one-sided conversation. 
Tuesdays were spent sitting on the uncomfortable wooden confessional bench, hearing the same issues the regular churchgoers would come to confess. 
‘Anger, gluttony, greed.’
It was always the same—the same menial sins from the same people. Nanami often wondered if they had not tired from the repetitiveness. If they were not as exhausted as he was from listening to the problems they refused to fix. 
After the last regular left the booth, Nanami checked his watch. Noting there was only 20 minutes before 6pm. Part of him wanted to leave the booth then and there. Lock the doors of the church and continue his work in the office. 
But something told him to stay. 
Knowing he was right as he heard the heavy doors open, and the light clacking of heels hitting tile. Getting closer and closer as the Father awaited the curtain next to him to open. 
He cleared his throat as he heard someone ease onto the wooden bench. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” he spoke, hearing your voice whisper an ‘amen’ along with him. 
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” 
Nanami closed his eyes- almost in pain hearing your voice ring through his ears. 
Silk and smooth as he expected. “It has been 14 years since my last confession.” your tone conveying a small smile- the same grin you would have on your lips during mass. 
The man couldn’t speak- his cheeks ran with slight tingles as he heard you. 
“I’ve committed a handful of sins, Father. I don’t know where to start.” tilting your head to the side and awaiting the mans guidance. 
He inhaled, shaking off the feeling of thinking it was you behind the screen. “Of all of them, which seems to be the one that weighs on you most?” his tone was steady- stark contrast to his pained expression. 
“The one that plagues me most-” lightly humming, almost taunting him as you thought. “May I be honest?” you spoke- hearing quiet shifting beside you. 
“Of course. Please- be honest.” Nanami urged, eager to know why you were placed in his path. Why you. 
The grin that arose on your cheeks was one that shouldn’t have. “I have been lusting after a man I shouldn’t be.” You spoke with a light rasp in your tone. Proud shoulders, not daring to falter their posture. 
Nanami clenched his jaw. Pondering if he genuinely wanted to tread through these waters. 
“I have thought vile things while in his presence.” spoken just shy of a whisper- loud enough for him to hear. “I try tempting him.” 
It wasn’t your words- nor the sultry tone you took that bothered the Father. It was how callous they fell from your lips. How easily you admitted these sins and how unapologetic you sounded. 
Even if you had not physically done anything— the sins were only committed in your mind—your confession showed him you were on the steps to show some kind of penance. 
“Do you know the ‘Act of contrition’ prayer?” Nanami asked, hoping the words would bring him back to stable ground. 
“I do.” you spoke softly, awaiting his instructions. 
Gulping softly, “Kneel.” he commanded, his tone sending a direct spike of warmth down your spine. 
Slowly shifting onto the ground, placing your elbows onto the wooden seat, and interlocking your fingers together. “Pray.” the Father spoke in a curt breath, his tone all but begging you to. 
You closed your eyes. “My God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee,” softly reciting the prayer as the Father mouthed the words as you spoke them. 
Even as you recited the rest of the prayer- instead of helping, this only fed the rot growing in Nanami’s brain. Now, knowing you were aware enough of Catholicism and still thought of vile things, he refused to imagine.
And as he recited a prayer of absolution- he begged in his mind for you to pray for him as well.
Pray for him to find the strength to keep the box of carnal thoughts he locked away when he was anointed at bay. 
Even if the priest didn’t believe it, “God has freed you from your sins,” he said. “Go in peace.” knowing that, as it was on Sundays, you would go in peace, whereas Nanami would be left more troubled than when he started. 
And as he heard your voice whisper, ‘Thank you Father.’ before the clacking of heels descended onto the tiles. The thoughts inside that locked box dared to reawaken themselves. 
Thoughts he reserved only for his early twenties, no longer having the right to access them now. But you- you shoved the reservations aside. Made room for yourself in his mind- what plagued him most was how unsure he was if it really was you behind the wooden fence of the booth.
Nanami would be lying if he said he had never prayed as hard as he did once you left the confession box. Making sure to lock the church doors and light a candle. 
Standing at the center of the aisle, the statue of his god looking down at him with tears in his eyes. As though his god was disappointed in him.
Nanami fell to his knees, defeated and scared of what was planted into his brain. 
And as he started his prayer, the words sounded as though he was asking for mercy. Pleading with his god to forgive him, to rid him of you and the infiltrating things he pictured as you spoke. He begged for help on his hands and knees- even a light tear leaving his closed eye. 
Sunday’s morning mass came and went. Nerves filled his hands as he awaited the afternoon mass to start. 
Nanami awaited you- his eyes locking onto the door anytime it opened. He held off the mass as long as he could. And the realization that you were not showing up affected him more than it should have. 
And when afternoon mass started, he thought it might’ve been his fault. Had he assisted you better in your confession, maybe you would have shown up. 
Nanami made up a handful of excuses on your behalf, that you were sick- or just busy.
But none of them were true. None of the excuses Nanami made up satisfied him enough to still his mind. 
And as he was gathering his belongings from the lectern, the church empty and dim as he accumulated his thoughts. The sound of the large doors opening caused him to look up. 
The figure of you walking down the aisle in his direction, calf-length black dress and the same black heels that clacked against the tile. your cheeks lightly damp from the heavy rain that echoed through the halls.
Even dressed modestly- the sight of you still troubled the man. 
Nanami knew it was only you, him, and his god in that room now. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to use the congregation as an excuse to look away. 
He parted his lips to speak, only you spoke faster than he could- “Father, I was hoping we could talk.” a low tone- different from the one you used when you sat in the confessional. But speaking with the same ease that he heard the last time, it made him realize that ‘anonymous’ confession wasn’t anonymous anymore. Nanami was sure it was you now. 
And as though his prayers worked- your face looked almost remorseful. 
“Not as a confession.” you reiterated, causing the man to gulp lightly and try to gather his thoughts. “Just to talk.” 
Ending up sitting in his office- a small room at the very back of the church. Small windows being pelted with heavy raindrops.
Set up in the same way a principal’s office would be. Sitting across from him, desk separating you from the priest. 
Even if he sat in the chair that technically held the power- the aura that surrounded you made a chill run down his spine when he eased into his chair. 
“How are you finding the congregation?” he asked, words he had been thinking since he noticed your seclusion. And being able to ask you without worrying it wasn't you sitting beside him. 
Crossing your ankles and lightly easing onto the arm of the chair, you softly smiled, “The people are kind. I know I can sometimes come off standoffish; they still try.” 
Nanami felt a tension in his throat, as if he had taken an overly large bite of a meal he wasn’t ready for. “I had noticed you had not engaged with the others.”  
“Did you?” you asked- taking on that little upturn in your tone. Your low eyes watch the man before you gulp. The white collar became tight from the words that sounded all too tantalizing than they should have. 
“It made me worry.” he looked down at the calendar on his desk- full of black pen marks of that month’s activities. 
You lightly furrowed your eyebrows, “Worry?” 
“Worry that you weren’t finding your way in the church.” he reiterated, trying to shake away the nerves and make this as you asked. Just a talk. 
Nanami wanted to bring up your confession- he needed to know why you wanted to tempt a man. He wanted to know if you were speaking of him. 
“When I see you leave immediately after the service,” he continued, feeling the light searing your gaze onto his skin. 
“I never had the chance to properly introduce myself-” he spoke, flashing his eyes at you. 
“Do you introduce yourself to every new church member, Father?” You asked, words that almost made the man cough. 
“I try to.” he admitted. Even if every cell in his brain told him to lie- to say ‘Yes, I do.’ 
“I imagine it’s quite difficult- so many people.” you thrummed, softly turning your head to the side and looking at the walls. Decorated with old paintings that had been hung there long before Nanami had been anointed. 
His mind reeling with questions a priest shouldn't ask a member of his flock.
“I am.” you hummed, looking back at the man whose eyes widened slightly. Unsure if you had heard his thoughts or- “Finding my way in the church.” elaborating on his confusion. 
“Were you raised catholic?”
The little grin that rose on your cheeks should’ve told him everything, but it only caused more confusion for the man. “I was,” you mumbled, looking at the body language he held as he sat. 
Tense broad shoulders that made your thighs press together whenever your eyes caught them. A furrowed brow that would twitch when you started speaking. “Around 16 or so, I left the church.” 
“And what brought you back?” he spoke—clearer and without fault. He aimed his intentions at helping you instead of trying to aid his wandering conscious. 
Looking down to your hands, “When I moved back here- something told me to come see the church.” lightly shifting in the chair as you spoke, “Imagine my surprise when I saw a priest I wasn’t expecting, walk before the congregation.” 
He took those words as a negative- as though you were disappointed that he greeted you and not another priest. 
“Were you raised in the church?” you asked softly, watching his eyebrows pinch in the slightest. 
He took a light breath- “I was.” nodding softly and recalling the memories of his youth. There was a small silence- waiting for him to continue as he expected your voice to speak up. Knowing this was to counsel you- not the other way around. 
“Continue, Father, please.” watching his eyes squint and think on it. 
Lightly clenching his teeth, he said, “I went to an all-boys Catholic school.” He softly blinked, looking down at his hands.  
“So you always wanted to be a priest?” you asked, the question coming off more sarcastic than genuine. 
He scoffed with a small hearty laugh- clearing his throat and sitting up. “No- no, I didn’t want to join the priesthood until I was 23.” he elaborated, watching you softly nod. 
“What made you turn back to religion?” repeating the question he had asked you earlier, only with a more seductive tone.
‘Because of haunting women like you.’ was all he could think as you awaited his answer. 
“I wanted to help people—I want. To help,” he said, words he hoped you would hear and pick up on his urge to assist you. 
In your mind, a sneering comment flashing in red- 'You want to help?' almost like a challenge.
“When I came to confess earlier this week-” you brought it up. That’s what Nanami held onto in his mind. You brought it up. He didn’t. 
“I still felt plagued by what I spoke to you about, father.” looking at him with a sprinkle of feigned sincerity in your eyes. 
Only to the man before you- that false sincerity was seen as an urge to rid yourself of your sins. 
His face was still- unshowing any emotion that throbbed in his mind. And you took it as him not remembering. “I recited the prayer of contrition,” you spoke- some attempts to remind him. 
Only the Father knew precisely what you were referring to. “I remember.” he assured, softly nodding and allowing you to continue. 
“After- I felt even worse.” Bowing your head to hide the smile on your cheeks as you toyed with your hands. “They didn’t stop after I left- if anything,” the words spilled from your lips, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin from what you were insinuating. 
“They got worse- more filthy; once I left, Father.” your expression hidden from him- and your tone soft, hinting that this indeed plagued you. 
You sighed, “It was unbearable.” accentuating the word with a pained tone. Smiling to yourself, “I’m sure you know the feeling, Father- as though one light breeze would make you combust at that moment.” 
 “I couldn’t even bring myself to come-” Nanami’s hand dared to clench at your words, “-to Mass this morning; that’s how shameful I felt.”
Answering Nanami’s question without having to ask it- “I thought it would be less frowned upon if I stepped into the church after mass.” 
Nanami gulped at the insinuation- all too fearful of what you spoke of. “Have you prayed on this?” he asked, air threatening to choke his words. 
Looking up at him with pinched brows, lips parted ever so slightly. “I have never prayed so much in my life before this.” 
Your words conflicted with. If you were so godly and sure of Catholicism. Why do your eyes tell him another story? Why do your eyes glimmer with hints of intent- as though you were looking at prey?
“Why do you think these thoughts have yet to leave you?” he spoke- words he said as a priest but meant as a person. 
“I think a masochistic part of me urges me to continue returning to the cause.” Words that rung true in his ears- knowing that he was the same. That, he very much could have excused you- tell you he was busy or that he could not talk at that moment. 
But the same as you, Nanami allowed himself to allow you access to him. The excuse of closure and the urge to help, used to defend himself to the god above him. 
Spoken in a whisper, “Like an itch I can’t scratch.” the Father started contemplating how far it would be if he admitted to the same thing- how bad it would truly be, if he confessed that the very same thing had plagued him.
Nanami was about to part his lips to speak- but the little reminder on his phone rang beside him. Looking down and seeing it- a parish meeting. “Maybe we should continue this next week.” he spoke- almost relieved that he would be able to escort you from the room thick with tension. 
“Have I taken too much of your time, father?” you asked- voice churned with the slightest hint of false distress. 
Nanami inhaled- “Not at all.” with a smile, “I just have a parish meeting in a few minutes.” he excused. Pushing his chair back and standing. 
And as he walked you past the church’s pew benches- a few inches to your side. “How does next Sunday sound?” he spoke, a low tone laced with the tiniest hit of smugness.
Shoes clicking against the tile as he walked. And as you turned your head over to him, a mindless hand was placed on your back. The lightest touch guiding you towards the door. 
“Sunday is perfect, Father.” you mumbled, watching his hand open the large door and await you to step out. 
And as he watched you leave his church- he almost closed his eyes in relief. 
Thinking of the movement Nanami hadn’t made since his days in college- a little action he would use on the opposite gender. It flustered him more now than it ever did. 
Life as a priest didn’t require him to touch women- ever so often holding their hands in his as they spoke to him. A handshake, a side hug from the overly enthusiastic housewives after his services. 
But that touch- the feeling of your back pressed against his palm. It sent shocks of fear mixed with excitement down his spine. 
During the entire parish meeting; the Father’s mind was fogged. Unsure what he was getting into- or why he was so determined to walk head first into this. Even if it was you who caused him to contemplate his life in the priesthood. 
Nanami would help you find your way, even if it killed him trying to. Reminding himself of the words in his mind. 
‘I do it for my god.'
'I do it for my parish.’
-
PT 2
(a.n) ....hehe
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1K notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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Steve got the tattoo the day they held the very small, very secret service for Eddie.
He knew he had to get it somewhere hidden, didn’t wanna answer questions, not even from Robin.
The E+S on his upper thigh was precious to him, all he had left of the promises they made to each other as children and again as teenagers.
Eddie was Steve’s, even if he wasn’t here, and Steve would always be Eddie’s, even if Eddie no longer knew.
But eventually, the end of summer came, and the kids wanted to have something normal. Normal for them was a pool party that ended in a sleepover, and Steve didn’t have much choice about making it happen.
He wanted them to have something normal.
So he got his bathing suit on, forgetting the tattoo was in a spot that might show in it, and tried to have fun with them.
Robin noticed and then Max noticed, and once he’d tried getting out of the explanation twice in a row, Dustin and Will noticed.
So he just explained that he lost a dare with Tommy years ago and that got them to stop asking.
But he found himself crying in the shower that evening, trying his best not to make any noise as sobs wracked his body and it got harder and harder to breathe.
The only thing that snapped him out of it was the knowledge that Eddie would want him to go back downstairs to be with the kids. He wouldn’t want to see Steve like this.
He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to his tattoo, just like he’d done every single day since he got it.
And then he went downstairs to be with the kids.
His one rule during sleepovers at his house was he still go to sleep in his own bed. Sometimes Robin would join him, but most of the time, he slept alone.
He couldn’t sleep.
He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, but every time he closed his eyes and tried to drift, he’d get an overwhelming feeling of being watched.
His eyes would open and he’d look around, confused and frustrated.
And nothing would be there.
Which was good, great even. He didn’t want there to be anyone or anything there. But he did want an explanation for this feeling.
He sat up in his bed and sighed.
Maybe he could-
Something was definitely in his bathroom. The door had been closed earlier, like it always was, and now it was halfway open.
The light was off.
Steve stood from his bed silently, crept to the bathroom with his nail bat raised, and considered what would happen if he died up here.
“That’s a depressing thought even for your melodramatics, sweetheart.”
Steve barely resisted screaming at Eddie’s voice.
“Oh god. I’ve finally fuckin’ lost it,” he said as he turned the bathroom light on.
“I dunno. You still got it, baby. Even if you lost some weight in your ass.”
Eddie, or something that looked and talked like Eddie, was sitting on the sink in the bathroom.
“I did like those little swim trunks, though. Hope you wear those again for me.”
“What the fuck.”
“You know, that’s exactly what I said when I woke up alive. Kinda thought I was dying. Imagine my surprise when I didn’t.”
Steve held his bat tighter.
“Eddie? How?”
Eddie hopped off the sink and stepped closer, slowly, so he wouldn’t scare Steve.
“Not sure. But it’s not the craziest thing that’s happened.” Eddie wanted to touch him, Steve could tell. His hands were clenching into fists to resist. “I know I’m not human, but I’m close enough, I think.”
“Close enough for what?”
“To love you.”
Steve dropped the bat and fell against Eddie, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in, not caring about the dirt or sweat or grime clinging to his skin.
It was Eddie, and he’d take him any way he could have him.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to get back here for so long.” Eddie’s arms held him tight enough to bruise. “Won’t happen again, won’t leave you again.”
Steve’s sobs were loud, but trying to contain them physically pained him. He’d been in enough pain for months. He had to let these out.
He felt Eddie waving his hands behind him, but then heard Robin’s rambling and decided to turn.
“-and he’s been distraught for months but didn’t tell me anything and then I saw his tattoo earlier and I thought, well, must just be a joke you guys had. And then I was like, no, can’t be, because you barely spoke. Or at least I thought you did. Clearly I’m wrong. I’m super wrong. Wrongest I’ve ever been maybe.”
“Robs.” Steve’s choked voice silenced her. “You know how I told you to go for it with Nancy because I really didn’t have feelings for her?”
“I don’t see how this is relevant, but yeah.”
“She protected me, both of us, really, so we could be together. Offered to pretend to date me so no one would get suspicious.”
“Steve. Steve Harrington. You had a beard?”
Eddie snorted. “I know you said she was funny, but I’m pretty she’s my second favorite human now.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve been with Eddie for forever. I mean, since we were kids practically.”
Robin was silent. A rare thing for her.
“Robin?”
“Sorry, just taking this in.”
“Yeah, Eddie being alive is a lot-“
“Not that. That is gonna come a lot later once I stop and think about the fact that he’s some kind of zombie.” Robin leaned against the doorway. “The fact that I came out to my best friend and he didn’t return the favor. That is queer code, Steve.”
Eddie laughed, and Steve let out another sob. He’d missed him so much, missed his laugh, his arms around him, his heartbeat-
“Eds. Eddie.” Steve lifted his head and pressed both hands to his chest. “You-“
“Ah. So I don’t seem to have a heartbeat anymore. As far as I can tell, I did actually die.” Eddie shrugged as if this news wasn’t absolutely insane. “So my best guess is vampire since I prefer blood to brains. But I can get by without it for a pretty long time.”
“How long?”
“Well, I haven’t had any since the day I woke up. Which is a few months according to your calendar.”
Robin held her hands up. “I’m going. Good luck. The kids are gonna flip.”
“Do not tell them. Not yet.”
Steve needed tonight, needed to have Eddie to himself before everyone else stole it for a while. He wanted to be selfish for the first time in a very long time. He knew Robin would understand.
“Sure thing. But you’re gonna have to be quiet. You’re lucky none of them heard you crying.”
Steve nodded and curled back into Eddie, placing a kiss against his neck.
“Glad you’re back Eddie,” she said as she left.
“I need a shower,” Eddie said. “Think it’ll wake the kids?”
“Nah. They slept through a tree falling in the yard last month during a storm. Just need to be quick,” Steve pulled away to start grabbing what he’d need for a shower, but Eddie pulled him back on, running his nose along his neck and sending chills down his spine.
“You wanna join me?” He asked.
“Of course I do. But we won’t be quick if I join you,” Steve smiled.
A real smile. One he realized he hadn’t had on his face since spring break.
“You wanna wait in bed for me, then?” Eddie beamed back at him.
“Can I stay in here? I don’t-“ Steve sighed. “I don’t wanna leave you.”
Eddie’s smile softened into something endeared. “Yeah, sweetheart. You can stay. Talk to me. Tell me what I missed.”
Steve told him about everything he could while he showered away the Upside Down grime, watching his shadow behind the glass door of the shower to make sure it never disappeared.
They made sure the bedroom door was locked before crawling into bed together, Steve laying on top of Eddie like he always did before.
He was heavier, but Eddie never cared.
Steve slept so long, Eddie had no choice but to go downstairs in the morning so no one would wake him up.
The chaos that ensued was nothing short of overwhelming, but Eddie didn’t mind.
He was happy to back with all the kids, even if they asked incredibly inappropriate questions about his body to find out what he was.
When Steve finally came down, he was still half asleep and barely registered the open-mouth stares of everyone as he came up to Eddie and rested his head on his chest, wrapped his arms around his waist.
Eddie smiled down at him and kissed the top of his head.
“Morning, sunshine.”
“Morning, baby.”
“Sunshine?!” Dustin yelled.
“Baby?!” Mike yelled louder.
“Make them go away,” Steve sighed against his neck.
“You don’t wanna explain?” Eddie asked him, half joking.
“Not today. Scare them or something.”
“You think Eddie can scare us? We’ve all almost died!” Lucas said.
“Fine. Eddie and I are together, have been forever. The tattoo on me is our initials. Get out of my house.”
The kids just stared at them in silence until Steve finally turned from Eddie and put his hands on his hips.
“I wasn’t asking. Get out.”
The kids scrambled to leave, making promises (threats) to come back soon.
Robin waved as she walked out with them, throwing them both a wink and knowing smile.
“So how long do you think we have until they come back?” Eddie asked, rocking them back and forth gently.
“Few hours maybe.”
“I can do a lot in a few hours,” Eddie nipped at Steve’s ear, making him shiver and laugh.
“You got super strength with your new life?” Steve grinned at him.
“I wouldn’t call it super, but I could definitely carry you back to bed.”
Steve jumped up and wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist, arms around his neck.
“Carry me to bed, then, Eds.”
“Anything your heart desires, Stevie.”
1K notes · View notes
ja3hwa · 5 months
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♡ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡
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【Synopsis】 : He couldn't help but think such filth when you were innocently fast asleep only merely a couple of feet away from him.
『Word count』 :  1.12k
-> Genre: Pure smut. Little plot. DBF.
Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader [Hwa's Daughter]
[Warnings] : Slightly Noncon (Reader is asleep at first). Masturbation. Cum play. Thoughts and fantasies. Pet names. Sir kinkish. Hongjoong is nasty. Also, Joong is like in his late 30s and tatted while the reader is only 23. Whoops.
Note: No one asked for this, but for some reason, I was hooked on the thought of the Dad's best friend trope, and Hongjoong is really coming for my heart. So, It was a perfect match in my eyes.
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You didn't know what came over yourself. It felt like the heating was turned up tenfold. Your nose scrunched as you began to move more and more in your sleep. Hongjoong couldn’t help but watch your discomfort in curiosity. Were you having a nightmare? No, you weren’t one to have them. But then again, maybe you just didn’t tell anyone. And being on a family trip in the middle of nowhere would cause distress.
Maybe I should wake her?… He thought, now sitting fully up on the pull-out couch bed. You were no longer tucked under the big fluffy covers on the single bed. No, you had thrown them off moments ago, revealing your mid-drift slightly from your short sleep top and the fact you weren't wearing any pants. God, you looked so cute in your black frilly panties…No, he couldn’t think of such a thing. Not when you were his best friend's daughter. 
But oh how you looked delicious. When he met Seonghwa, he had no clue he had a daughter, let alone one that was twenty-two. And when he agreed to go on this camping trip─more like staying in this large cabin on Seonghwa family’s land─he didn’t expect to see you tag along. You were stunning the moment he saw you hop out of your car. You were everything he would want in a woman and after spending hours of the day chatting and getting to know you he knew he was fucked. Anyone outside your conversations, like Seonghwa or his other friends and their kids, would see it as some harmless banter. But in reality, Hongjoong was shamelessly flirting. He didn’t mean it at first, but it just kept going, and you kept egging him on. So what was he supposed to do?
Since there were quite a lot of people that had come on the getaway, rooms were tight. And you had begged your father not to let you sleep in the rooms where the kids were cause you were certain one of San’s boys wanted more than innocent late-night chats… He ended up putting you in the same small study-turned-bedroom where there was a single bed and a double pull-out with Hongjoong. He originally offered to take the single, but you argued, saying his ‘old man back’ wouldn’t like it. He let you take it after that comment.
“J-joong…” you mumbled, almost inaudible. The older man's eyes snapped to your parted lips in a millisecond. Did you just say his name? No, he was definitely hearing things. “Joong, please.”
No, he definitely heard you that time. Your little panting, knitted brow, and soft moans. You weren’t having a nightmare. You were having a sex dream. And it was about him. God, did he wake up in another universe where everything went his way?! He ruffled his hair before rubbing his face in disbelief. He needed to hear you again, but as he took in your figure, he noticed you were now biting your lip, and your hips were jerking slowly. The pillow you were cuddling was tightly pressed up against your covered cunt in between your legs, and every little movement of your hips sent a shock of pleasure through your body.
You were humping your pillow at the thought of them while fast asleep.
He knew it was bad, but as his cock twitched for the millionth time he knew he needed to give himself some relief. And besides, you were sleeping, so you wouldn’t catch him only a couple of feet away from you, fucking his fists in time with your thrusts as your little moans carried out the nastiest fantasies his mind could conjure.... Right?
The thought of you laying out on his bed back at his penthouse. You're soaking on complete display as you beg him to hurry and touch you. He questions if you are a virgin, and if you were would you let him fuck you raw? Just the thought of slipping inside your tight virgin pussy while you tear up at his girth. He squeezed his cock tighter, staring at you intensely, he moved the sheets off himself, hissing slightly at the cool air hitting his hot angry tip. He needed more, he needed to hear his name spill from your mouth again. And it was as if the gods answered his prayers hearing you whimper, “P-please H-hongjoong.”
That was enough to tip him over the edge, speeding up his movements. He noticed the stutter in your hips. You were close to. He’d whisper to himself, “Let’s cum together baby. Cum all over my cock, fuuck.”
He wouldn’t be able to catch himself in time, splurting all over his hand, chest, and some dripping on his thigh. Fuck, he came so much. His eyes were shut, head leaning back against the backing of the couch. His heart was thumping in his ears so loudly he couldn’t even hear anything more. He was in complete ecstasy and peace. That was until he felt the bed dip, making his heart stop and eyes widen. “oh uh..I. um..” fuck, he was so fucked. You were sitting on the end of his bed, half asleep with the haziest expression while staring at his cock still tightly in his hand. His dick twitched, causing a groan, mostly from annoyance as he had been caught and he does even feel an ounce of guilt.
“D-did I cause t-that…” You said sweetly, so innocently. Could you get any more perfect?!
“I’m sorry angel, just go back to sleep, yeah…” He tucks himself back into his boxers, feeling his cum stick to the fabric which caused him to gag. He’s gonna have to slip out for a shower. But you didn’t budge as you took in his words. Instead, you pushed past any anxiety you had over the past days wondering whether Hongjoong liked you the same way, and moved closer to grab his hand that still had some of his cum on. You had woken up over five minutes ago before Hongjoong had creamed himself. His head was thrown back and he was in complete bliss and it caused you to cum just from the sight alone. “A-Angel…”
You didn’t let him speak another word as you placed two of his fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Soaking them. And once they were wet enough, you pulled them out with an audible pop. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with the older male, you moved his hand down until those two wet fingers dipped into your completely ruined panties, letting him feel exactly how wet you were for him. They would slip so perfectly into your cunt causing you to sigh in relief, feeling so full just from his fingers alone. “Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”
Hongjoong was done for.
—♡
2K notes · View notes
bbyquokka · 2 months
Text
slow
– in which it's yn's & jisung's first time together. jisung gets a little too in to it!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing | han jisung x fem reader
genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut – 18+ is strongly advised!
cw | established relationship , small mention of anxiety , jisung & reader are not inexperienced, its their first time being intimate together , masturbation (m) , dirty thoughts , orgasm denial , pet names , love bites , biting , grinding , jisung is rough at the start , safe word used , breast & nipple play , oral sex (m & f rec) , protected sex (p in v) , aftercare
words | 7.6k ~ ( 7,630 )
notes | it's been a while.. i still dont feel 100% on this site rn but i wanted to post a lil something! also, this was requested a hella long time ago! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3
m.list — you can also read it on my ao3
dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
you never thought you could ever be so in love with a human being, yet here you are, smitten by none other than han jisung.
you’ve read and watched about love, soulmates, marriage, sex, all that type of stuff in movies and books. you never believed in the soulmate's thing or the ‘red string of fate’. you simply thought it was a gimmick to hook the audience into whatever media consumption they were consuming.
but alas, here you are. as you look at your lover and soak in every single precious detail of him, you slowly understand the meaning of soulmate's. your heart thumps every time you hear him speak, stomach fluttering every time you watch him fill his cheeks up with food like a squirrel.
you met jisung by chance. you both were attending a beginners painting course at your local community center. it was a chance for you to step out of your comfort zone and meet new people, possibly make new friends too.
you were nervous to begin with and possibly overwhelmed too. new faces, sounds and smells. you were overstimulated and the raging feeling of anxiety activated your fight-or-flight mode.
luckily for you, jisung noticed and instantly calmed you down. he spoke to you in a gentle and soft manner. he made corny jokes to help relax you and ease your mind. you only just met him and yet, you felt instantly connected to him – like you've known him your whole life.
he mentioned that the teacher, who's name you learnt was hyunjin, was a very good friend of his and that you didn't have anything to worry about. you explained that you're a terrible artist and know nothing at all to which jisung replied “me too! let's be terrible together, yeah?” 
that day was the most fun you've had in a long time. the anxiety you felt disappeared as soon as jisung approached you. you both created god awful paintings but they left you in tears of laughter and by the end of the session, you were sure you developed a six pack due to how sore your stomach muscles were hurting from laughing too much.
you could say that you both acted like two high schoolers goofing around in class. hyunjin did tell you and jisung off but he was just happy that his friend was able to find someone just like him.
you and jisung exchanged contact details. calling and texting each other 24/7. it started off small and sweet, telling each other about your day, telling one another to eat well and stay hydrated. sending pictures of things you both think the other would like.
you didn't realise or consider that your feelings for jisung were slowly becoming a lot more than ‘just friends.’ you couldn't explain it at the time. you couldn't understand why you felt so giddy every time you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. you didn't understand why you wanted to scream and shout every time he sent you a comfy selfie. you didn't understand why your heart raced and why you felt the urge to spend every single second of every hour with him and when he wasn't calling or texting you, that you felt sad and empty.
you simply put it down to the fact that you've never had a close friend before, especially of the opposite sex. you mistook your feelings for love as that of excitement and joy.
however, it wasn't until you saw a picture of him with someone else on a night out, did you finally understand.
the jealousy you felt that night turned you bitter and cold. it turned you into something that you didn't recognise within yourself. you did act a little distant towards him the next day and poor jisung didn't have a clue as to why.
one thing about jisung that you've learnt since knowing him, is that he is very good at getting you to talk about things you don't want to.
“do you think the reason you feel like this could be related to something much more? something you haven't quite figured out yet.”
as soon as jisung sent those messages to you, did you reflect and come to terms that you have fallen in love with your best friend. once that was evident, you had a whole new problem.
what if jisung doesn't feel the same as you? what if it affects the friendship between you both?
with so many questions rushing in your mind, you unintentionally ghosted jisung and he noticed.
he noticed the dry messages. the one liners. he noticed that you didn't seem all too interested anymore. yeah, it filled him up with anxiety because he wondered if he'd done anything or said anything to upset you.
instead of letting his mind run away with negative thoughts, he made the bold decision to go to your apartment and talk it out.
it was a day you'd never forget. it was a day that started off angsty and slowly turned into something magical.
you talked with each other and you confessed through your tears. you sobbed and sobbed, worry shaking your entire existence. jisung hugged you tight, his scent calmed your nerves. once calm, did he too also confess and that was the beginning of something you both cherish to this day.
you both agreed to start of slow. neither of you are inexperienced however, going from being ‘just friends’ to boyfriend girlfriend is a whole new feeling.
you're seeing each other in a new light, learning new things about one another. everything is so different, everything feels different. it feels like your relationship with jisung is starting all over again. what you thought you knew about him, turns out to be completely different.
you went on many dates and outings. you held hands multiple times and cuddled a lot. you both even exchanged sweet pecks on the cheeks before kissing each other. however, you both never did anything intimate with one another.
not because you weren't ready or inexperienced, it's a simple matter of the timing doesn't feel right. you (and jisung) both want to be with each other more, spend more time with one another and learn about each other before taking that massive (and vulnerable) step in the relationship.
not one of you pestered or pressured the other about it. it's as if you both silently just knew. at first you were a little anxious about not having sex with him right away and jisung felt the same, however, as time went on and you both started to find comfort in each other as well as understand one another via social/physical cues, did the anxieties slowly disappear.
that's not to say that you don't feel some kind of lust for him. jisung is exactly the same, thinking and feeling like you. some days he wishes he could just ravish you. when you look that extra gorgeous or do something cute that makes his heart skip, he wishes he could just drag you back to his place and indulge in you.
there have been many times that he's masturbated over you. date nights he would find himself going home, straight to his bedroom and his fist around his throbbing cock. his mind plagued with dirty thoughts of you, imagining you in your date attire.
some nights he wants to ruin you. his hand funnelling for his phone as his other is wrapped around his cock and squeezing tightly to deny himself of his orgasm. it hurts and the longer he waits, the more it hurts him but it makes his toes curl and body shakes with excitement.
he doesn't know how long he can go on like this. he knows patience is a virtue but just everything about you is driving him insane. the more time goes on, the more he becomes impatient. the more it builds and builds until it feels like he is suffocating with an intense amount of lust.
luckily for him, he won't have to wait that long.
“thank you for tonight, sungie.” you smile as you stand on the doorstep of your home. jisung hums softly, his hands in his suit pants pockets.
“my pleasure. i hope you enjoyed the meal.”
“i enjoy your company more than anything.” you feel your cheeks heat up slowly. the tips of jisung's ears slowly turn red at your cute confession.
“i – ahm – i shall bid you goodnight then, darling.” as he turns on his heels, he is abruptly stopped by you grabbing his wrist. he looks up at you, a look of confusion on his face, his brows furrowed together.
“what’s the mat–”
“stay the night.” you blurt out in one sentence. 
his heart stops beating for a second. your cheeks pink as the grip on his wrist is tight. heat rushes down south and his mouth becomes dry. 
“darling, what are you trying to say? do you know what will happen if i stay the night?” he takes your hand gently from his wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours as he walks close to you. 
you become fixated on him and your senses become heightened. your throat becomes dry as jisung holds your hand whilst his other wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.
you become hyper aware of the situation; of him! you swallow thickly, jisung's plump lips curled up at the corners in a smirk as they glisten from his saliva. 
“you are aware, correct?” he whispers. his voice is husk and his breath fans against your lips. you nod slowly, unable to speak. you worry that jisung would be able to hear your racing heartbeat. his cologne tickling your nostrils and intoxicating you. 
you've never been this close to him before. you can see every single detail of his skin up close and personal. his grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he shakily lets out a slow breath.
he brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them against your skin as he peers up at you through his lashes. you feel warmth flooding your body, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“god you're so beautiful.” he mumbles before kissing each of your fingers individually. “do you want to, darling?”
“i–” you stumble over your words.
“tell me. let me hear your pretty voice.” his hand escapes your waist to be pressed against your flush cheek. you instantly lean into his palm, feeling yourself be swayed by his charms.
“i-i want you, ji.” you whisper as your eyes flutter close. with a small huff, you feel jisung leaning closer to you and within a second, his soft lips are against yours in a slow and rhythmic kiss.
it's different. it feels different. it's not a simple peck or a good night kiss. it's a kiss that is filled with built up fiery passion. jisung has finally been given the go ahead and he can feel it all overflowing and seeping out.
he grips your hand, eyes fluttering closed as his brows scrunch together. you tilt your head to the side a little, lips locking and caressing one another. he presses his body against yours, your back hitting your door which causes jisung to snake his arms around your back and hold you firmly in his arms.
your own arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close to you as possible. the way jisung is kissing you is making you feel lightheaded and deprived of oxygen – but you don't want to escape from his grasp.
the cold night air fans against your hot cheeks, failing to bring down your body temperature. you feel the tip of his tongue glide along your bottom lip, silently pleading for permission. you grant it by parting your lips and letting your own tongue caress with his.
your body fills with tingles of excitement, your abdomen fluttering. jisung's suit pants are starting to feel a little tight. he can feel himself slowly melt into you, his mind turning foggy. he's waited all this time to taste you and now he finally has you, he doesn't want to escape and let you go.
“taste so sweet.” he mumbles for a split second to allow some air to resume into his lungs. you don't have a chance to reply because his lips are instantly back on yours, tongue caressing and colliding with yours. melting at the touch.
your heart thumps against your chest so loudly, you can hear it in your ears. your body trembles with excitement but also another feeling that you can't quite put your finger on.
you hear jisung fumbling behind you, his hand coming into contact with the cold door handle. with his lips still locked onto you, he opens the door and slowly pushes you inside. once inside, he kicks the door closed with his foot as you both stumble whilst taking off your shoes.
you're the first to pull away from his lips much to his dismay. you look at the man that stands before you and notice that he looks and feels different. he no longer feels soft and gentle. his eyes are hazy but darkened with hunger and lust. his cheeks are pink and lips swollen and glistening with saliva. you see his chest rising up and down with every breath and his neat hair now dishevelled.
“where?” his words dripped with a hint of impatience. you swallow a little and chew your lip gently.
“we can go to my room?” you press your lips together in a thin line. you're suddenly aware that jisung is in your home, in your space and it's making you nervous as hell! jisung notices you trembling a little so he places one hand on your shoulder whilst the other is used to lift your chin up gently so you're looking at him.
“are you sure?” his voice is now soft and gentle, the same softness you've grown accustomed too. “we don't ha–”
“i want to!” you blurt out causing jisung to widen his eyes slightly before chuckling to himself. “just give me a few seconds. i need to go to the restroom.”
he gives you a gentle smile and nods. as you go to the restroom, you tell jisung the directions to your bedroom in case he wants to sit and wait and whilst he does, he takes his time looking around your place.
he makes a mental note how it's just like you. how every piece of decoration resembles you in one way or another. he walks to your bedroom, cautiously sitting on your bed as he waits for you.
as he waits, he suddenly becomes hyper aware of where he is. he can smell you. the same lavender scent that emits from your clothing is now tickling his nostrils. his lips part as he lets out small, shaky puffs of air.
“fuck.. this is bad.” he mumbles as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his dress shirt. his body temperature skyrocketing, skin glistening in sweat as your scent continues to hug him deliciously.
meanwhile, you're in the restroom giving yourself a pep-talk. the coolness of the ceramic sink feels soothing against your hot palms.
you're nervous. you've never been this nervous before. it feels like you could throw up. you want to run and hide but the desire you have for him is too strong. you want him and he wants you, it's just because it's all new that you feel like this.
however, you can't shake that hungry look from jisung's eyes away from your mind. he looked like an animal, ready to pounce on you at any second. 
you take a few deep breaths in and slowly release before fixing your hair. “you got this yn.” you mumble to your reflection before walking out of the restroom into the bedroom.
jisung looks up at you and gives you a grin. his legs are spread, hair pushed back with the buttons of his dress shirt still open, giving you a glimpse of his honey smooth skin you've been dying to caress.
he pats his inner thigh, silently beckoning you forward. like a puppet on a string, you feel yourself being pulled towards him. you stand between his legs, his hands on your waist gently as he strokes it with his thumb.
you glance at him, soaking in how beautiful and flush he looks. he tilts his head to the side, his bangs covering his eyes and his lips curl into a smirk as he sees your eyes flicker from his face to his crotch.
“like what you see?” 
your eyes widen and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. your brain melts and your ability to speak fails. words lodged in your throat and all you can muster is broken sentences.
jisung laughs at your flustered state, pulling you onto his lap. he pulls you flush on his crotch, chest to chest. his arms wrapping around your back and holding you close and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
the tips of his hair tickle your cheeks. hot, shaky breaths fanning against your skin as you feel your clothing being bundled up into jisung's hands.
“fuck, i’m in trouble. you’re too cute.” you giggle, your fingers caressing his soft hair. the tips of your fingers rake against his scalp and jisung closes his eyes slowly. his lips brush against the skin of your neck before being pressed against it. 
he starts off slow and gentle at first, peppering and sucking gently. but that soon fades.
you feel his teeth graze against your skin and your breath hitches in your throat. you bite your bottom lip gently before whimpering a little as his teeth dig into your neck. you squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the stinging sensation as you hold your breath. 
his kissing and sucking quickly becomes rough and painful. you grip onto jisung as his hands trail down your back to hold your waist. he grips onto you, moving your hips back and forth on his crotch.
when he pulls away from your neck, do you realise exactly what is happening and why you feel so anxious.
this isn't your first time but with how rough jisung is being is making you feel scared. the kind, gentle man you're so accustomed to is nowhere to be seen. his eyes are darkened, half-lidded. kiss bitten and swollen lips glistening in saliva.
his jaw clenches as he grips onto you forcefully. his mind has fogged over and he is purely chasing his own high. his body is being driven by the intense lust and hunger that had been building for months.
he's a different person and it's scaring you.
“h-hey. why don't we take i–” your attempt at trying to calm him down and bring him back to you cut short due to jisung throwing you onto the bed.
your back is hit with the bouncy mattress, the springs squeaking from impact. you watch jisung kneel between your legs, hands fumbling with the rest of the buttons of his shirt before it's quickly discarded to the side leaving him in nothing but his dress pants.
you wish you could enjoy the beautiful sight before you but you simply can't. you've seen jisung's body numerous times via gym or thirst selfies, seeing it in the flesh and glistening in a thin layer of sweat is a different experience and you so wish you could enjoy it.
“ji–” your eyes widen as he leans down and kisses you. it's not the same as before, it's rough. all teeth and tongues with no coordination. you start to panic, palms becoming sweaty and your heart beating against your chest.
this isn't how you imagined your first time to be with jisung. this isn’t what you wanted. you want your passionate, gentle and loving jisung back.
“v-volcano!” you sob. as if a switch has suddenly been switched inside of him, he is fast to get off you. his eyes widen in pure shock at the sight before him. you chew your bottom lip gently, unable to stop a few tears from trickling down your cheeks.
“oh my god. oh no. yn, oh fuck. i’m so sorry!” he reaches down shakily and presses his palm against your cheek. you lean in as you sniffle.
“it’s ok.” you whisper.
“no!” his sudden loud tone of voice makes you jump a little. “it’s not ok. i lost myself in the moment and i made you cry. fuck, i’m an idiot..”
“hey, it's ok.”
“it's not ok yn. i didn't mean to scare you. i've been wanting you for so long that when i finally got you, i lost sight of everything and in the process hurt and scared you.” his voice cracking and shaking. his brown, boba eyes filling with tears.
you sit up and kiss his cheek gently. your lips are met with the salty flavour of his tears. he wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you into his chest as he sobs.
“i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry. this wasn't how i planned this. fuck i’m so stupid!” he babbles. you hush him softly, stroking his hair slowly. you make a mental note of how he currently reminds you of a lost child, babbling and crying till their red in the face and snotty.
“i’m ok jisung. it did scare me. i saw a side to you that i’ve never seen before and it frightened me but you stopped when i used the safe word and that counts for something.”
“really?” he mumbles against your neck which is currently wet with tears.
“really. it'd be different if you carried on but you didn't. don't beat yourself up about this. this is our first time together.” you pull away slowly, cupping his cheeks. “we’re still learning about one another, darling. intimacy is a big big step in a relationship. it's probably one where we're at our most vulnerable.”
jisung simply nods and looks down, chin into chest as his lips turn into a pout. a few stray tears falling down his cheeks as he sniffles.
he really is like a child you say to yourself mentally before giggling.
“i'm sorry.” he whispers before looking up at you. “can we start all over again?”
you smile softly at him and nod. he leans on, tilting his head to the side and eyes slowly closing as your lips meet again. he is slow, tender and so gentle with you. it sparks butterflies in your stomach and for you to melt and relax into him.
he gently pushes you down so you're resting on your back, the kiss not being broken once. you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close to you. his fingers dance along your jawline and down your neck, trailing down to your breasts when he gently cups them through the fabric of your clothing.
your breath hitches a little in your throat. he gently massages your breast, kneading it in the palm of his hand. you gasp a little and groan, your legs parting a little bit more to allow more space for jisung to situate himself in.
his hand slowly trails up your stomach from under your clothing. his soft fingers dance along your skin like delicate pixie feet. it leaves a trail of heat and butterflies behind making you longing for more.
jisung licks your lips slowly and is pleased to feel them slowly part. the two wet muscles meet in the middle when they collide, hug and caress. his delicate fingers reach to your breast where he presses his palm on the flesh and wraps his fingers around it gently.
he squeezes your breast a few times, kneading and rolling it slowly. he swallows every gasp and soft moan that falls past your lips.
“god.” he mumbles as he pulls away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “you sound so beautiful.” 
“i do?” 
“mhm.” jisung's fingers brush over your hardened nipple, causing you to moan softly in shock at the sudden sensation and sensitivity. “see? i might become addicted.”
you flush at his words, your stomach fluttering and heartbeat skipping beats. you worry with how close jisung is to you, that he'd be able to hear and feel how erratic your heart is.
he presses his lips against your neck, kissing it tenderly and giving gentle sucks. his fingers work on your breast whilst you're unsure on what to do with your own. jisung notices this.
“it’s ok. you can touch me.” he chuckles against your neck. you flush red with embarrassment.
“i-i know! i just don't know where..”
“you can caress me. hold me. tangle your fingers in my hair. whatever feels natural, yn.” he pulls away from your neck to kneel up. his hand is off your breast as he takes your hand gently by the wrist. he brings your hand to his lips, eyes on you as he kisses your fingers delicately. “i won't break.”
you watch him kiss your fingers before kissing the back of your hand. then, he takes your wrist gently, guiding it to his cheek. he presses your palm against his flush skin as he leans in, his own hand pressed against the back of yours to keep your hand there.
“it’s ok to touch me, yn. touch me as much as you like. i've been dying for your touch so please, indulge in me. be greedy.” he whispers. 
you can't help the onslaught of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. it feels like they're travelling throughout your whole body, hugging your veins, nerves and tips of your fingers and toes. your breathing becomes shallow and jisung becomes the only thing you see.
everything turns blurry and time passes by slowly as you look at the man that is smitten for you. this love you feel from him, the love that's radiating and seeping from his pores is more than you thought.
it's suffocating but it's good. you want to drown in his love, drown in his warmth. you want to be entangled with him and have him be the only person you think and feel. 
you've noticed it for a while. noticed how hot he makes you feel. how his touch makes your skin burn. how his kisses linger on your skin. your lips automatically turned up in a smile whenever you see his name pop up on your screen. you're always thinking of him and you miss him when he isn't with you. you want to lock him up and never share him with anyone else because you'll get jealous. you want him by your side for eternity.
he is your life, your soul. your present and your future.
“i love you.” 
jisung looks at you, his eyes slowly widening. you haven't registered what you've just said, feeling like you're in a haze.
“say that again.” 
“huh?” you blink, coming back to reality.
“do you mean it? like, truly?” 
“mean what?”
“you said… you said you love me.” your eyes widen as you open and close your mouth like a goldfish, words stuck in your throat.
“i… i…uhm..”
“because–” he cups your cheeks gently. his eyes sparkling and wet as they fill with tears. “because i love you too. so fucking much.” 
your own eyes fill with tears as you watch tears trickle down jisung's cheeks. you laugh softly, stroking them away with your thumb.
“yes. i mean it, ji. i love you.”
“fuck.” he sobs before kissing you sweetly. you laugh in the kiss before kissing his tears away.
“yn.” he mumbles. you hum as a response. “i’m really fuckin' hard.. it hurts..” you press your lips together and glance down.
true to his word you can see a bulge in his suit pants. the fabric hugs him nicely, giving you a brief idea of his size and girth. he looks thick and long.
“please yn.. please do something. i can't bear it no more.” his voice is husk and dripping with lust. it tickles your ears and makes you shake with adrenaline.
you reach down and unbutton his pants, pulling the zip down. it gives him a small sense of relief but it's not enough. he lets out a small sigh before raising up a little on his knees to allow you to pull his pants down.
you do so with shaky hands, pulling them down to his thighs. jisung watches you stare at his crotch, watching you soak in all the information you have right in front of you.
his grey boxer shorts hugging his lower half tightly, the material stretching a little due to his bulge. it hugs him, feeling too snug to be comfortable. a wet patch where his tip is resting turning the fabric a darker grey.
“baby.. you're embarrassing me.” you look up to see jisung looking to the side, his bottom lip being chewed and his cheeks pink.
“sorry! it's just..” you trail off. jisung laughs softly and cups your cheeks.
“it’s ok. i understand.” he kisses your forehead gently. his muscles twitch and jerk as he feels your fingers come into contact with his sides.
you hook your fingers under the waistband of his shorts and slowly pull them down. you both hold your breath, time feeling like it's slowed down. you reveal his happy trail, his neatly trimmed hair until finally, his penis bounces free from its restraints.
jisung sighs heavily in relief, his eyes closing. you, on the other hand, stare at him with your mouth wide open. your hands have now bundled up the fabric of his shorts as you swallow and lick your lips.
you knew he was packing, that was evident in the way you could see it in jeans, pants and even his underwear – but you didn't think he'd be this big.
“holy. you're big.” you say without giving it a second thought. jisung stutters and covers his face with his hands, peering at you through the gap of his fingers.
“not sure if that's a compliment or not but, thank you.” 
“it's a compliment.” you whisper before leaning down.
his hips buck and muscles twitch. you haven't done anything but your breath fanning against his hot skin makes him throb and anticipate. you lick your lips and use the tip of your tongue to lick his tip.
“f-fuck.” he instantly moans. your actions are miniscule but it feels so much more than what it is. maybe it's because he's wanted this for so long or maybe it's because you both confessed and said i love you that makes it feel the way it does.
you press your tongue flat against his tip. your taste buds are met with a salty flavour from his pre-cum. you wrap one hand around the base of his penis as you slowly start to become more confident. you stroke him slowly, rotating your wrist a few times as you wrap your lips around his tip.
he feels hot – so so hot. jisung feels like his skin is burning. he feels like he is drowning in molten lava. he pants as he watches you, his eyes half-lidded and his teeth chewing on his bottom lip.
“hot.” he pants. he reaches down to bury his fingers in your hair. “ahh, fuck..” his head tilts to the side as you bob your head in time with your hand, giving his penis equal stimulation from both your hand and mouth.
you flatten your tongue to stoke the underside of him. you can feel the bumps from his veins against your palm. you hollow out your cheeks and breath through your nose the best you can. the corners of your mouth start to stretch and sting due to them splitting slightly. your mouth becomes accumulated with saliva which makes it easier for you to take more of him.
“a-ah.. fuck, yes. that's it. god, your mouth is so warm and feels so good.”
his praises and soft moans hug your ears. the deep octa waves of his voice send shivers down your spine and encourage you to be more brave. your eyes flutter shut as you focus all your attention on pleasuring jisung. 
he slowly unravels right before you. a thin sheen of sweat soaking his body as his penis throbs and twitches. he gently tugs on your hair, his hips bucking several times. soft whimpers and moans leave his swollen and parted lips as he slowly becomes dizzy with heat and lust.
jisung reaches down and gently pushes you away from him. you look up at him with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed together. he strokes your saliva coated lips with his thumb before speaking.
“you're going to make me cum and i don't want to cum just get.” 
you laugh softly but it's quick to become muffled and swallowed by jisung kissing your lips slowly and passionately. you only pull away from a brief second to allow him to undress you.
once stripped of your clothing, you're left in your underwear. just like you did, jisung is currently staring at your body. his mouth agape and eyes filling with love and admiration as he soaks in every single detail of your body.
you become aware of his eyes and feel somewhat violated by his piercing gaze. you cross your arms across your breasts and stomach, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.
“hey, don't do that.” he whispers softly to you as he gently pries away your arms.
“but it's embarrassing.” you mumble.
“but you're so gorgeous, yn.” you remain silent. you don't know how to respond. he's always showered you with compliments and love, forever telling you how beautiful and pretty you are but it feels different this time and it's making you feel embarrassed and shy.
your thoughts are disrupted by the feeling of jisung kissing your stomach. you watch him, tangling your fingers in his hair. he reaches up and hooks a finger underneath your bra strap as if he's silently asking.
you nod slowly. he grins, showing his teeth and gums. he takes off your bra and discards it with the rest of the clothing. his head dips low and you close your eyes, whimpering as you feel his lips peppering kissing on your breasts.
“so pretty.” he mumbles between each kiss. your hard nipple is caught between his teeth, lips sucking and tongue licking the sensitive nub.
you chew your bottom lip to suppress the moans that are building in the back of your throat. you tremble a little and let out a small pant. jisung notices and releases your nipple to kiss your neck softly and slowly.
“don't hold back your voice. let me hear your pretty moans.”
tingles are being left behind from where jisung has kissed your skin. heat pools in the pit of your stomach and much to jisung's delight, you let go of the moan that had been building in the back of your throat.
“see. told you your moans sound pretty.” his hot breath fanning against your hard nipple before his tongue swipes over it slowly. it gets covered in saliva and slowly becomes sore and sensitive.
the tips of your fingers and toes feel tingly. you feel restless and needy. you want him to hurry up and touch you but at the same time, you want to indulge and embrace the sweet yet tender moment.
he moves from your breast and kisses between them, kissing, sucking and licking your stomach whilst his hair tickles your skin. he stops just above the waistband of your underwear, eyes flicking up to meet your hungry gaze.
you nod and give him the go ahead. he licks his lips and slowly pulls down your underwear, discarding them on the floor. you swallow, feeling nervous and embarrassed now that you're on full display for jisung to see.
he shuffles between your legs, kissing your inner thigh slowly as well as sucking it. he squeezes your soft flesh as he looks at you and keeps eye contact with you. you bite your bottom lip, loving this new side to him. your once innocent looking skin now tainted with purple love bites and goosebumps.
using the tip of his middle finger, he trails it up and down your inner thigh slowly. he looks at your pussy, humming softly as the sight of your soaked folds and swollen clit.
“all this for me?” he whispers as he drags his middle finger to your entrance and gently scoops some of your slick onto it. you nod slowly, unable to speak with how embarrassed you feel. “cute.” he mumbles before licking his finger clean.
he leans down and in, pressing his tongue flat against your neglected bud. your muscles twitch and you gasp as electric like tingles shoot up and down your spine. jisung hums at your reaction, swiping his tongue along your clit.
“j-jisun.. aah!” your eyes flutter close as you press your head onto the pillows. the tip of jisung's tongue is now swirling around your bud, fingers teasing your entrance slowly. he gently sucks on your clit before kitten licking it and moaning softly.
he hooks his arms under your legs, pulling you flush against his face. his tongue slips down to your entrance where he laps at your slick, moaning at the taste and rutting against the mattress. he huffs occasionally, hot breathes fanning against your entrance.
“so good.” he mumbles. you go to reply but a moan replaces your words due to jisung slowly pushing his tongue into your entrance. your warmth encapsulates his tongue, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. he pushes and pulls his tongue in and out whilst his nimble fingers work on stimulating your clit.
“mhm, fuck. ji don't stop, please.” you moan as you reach down and grab his hair on your hands. you gently tug as your back arches a little. jisung feels your walls flutter on his tongue, your muscles twitching with the stimulation.
your folds get coated in slick and saliva along with jisung's lips and chin. he pulls away for a brief second to catch his breath before resuming back to the task at hand. jisung is thrusting into the mattress, the roughness of the sheets rubbing against his length that's being pressed against his stomach and coating it in his pre-cum.
you feel that all too familiar heat and knot in the pit of your stomach. you gasp and moan, tugging at his hair by the roots. your eyes flutter open and you look up at him as he pulls away, your lips forming a pout.
“i want to carry on, believe me baby but–” he kneels up and between your legs. he looks down and bites his lip. you follow his gaze and press your lips together in a thin line from how hard he is. “it’s painful. i need to be inside of you.”
“o-oh.” you blush. “then, hurry up because i want you.” 
“do you have any protection?” you nod and point to the side drawer by your bed. jisung reaches over you and you take this opportunity to lean up and kiss his neck. jisung grunts and shivers, his lips parting slightly as you gently bite and lick his skin.
“baby.. you're not helping.” 
“shh, just focus on getting a condom.” you purr. jisung's hands fumble around, struggling to open the drawer. when he does, he is met several packs of condoms, lube and some toys.
“i see you're fully stocked up.” he says with a smirk, grabbing a condom and closing the drawer. you feel heat rising to your cheeks.
“there for a friend.” you mumble, averting his gaze. jisung laughs as he opens the condom.
“riiiight, a friend.” 
“shut up.” you whine. “it's better to be prepared.”
“oh i know. that's what i love about you, baby.” you watch him roll the rubber on his length and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him. “ready?”
“i’m ready.”
jisung nods and holds the base of his penis. he guides it to your entrance, rubbing his tip against it and between your folds before slowly pushing in. you both hiss for different reasons.
for him, the warmth and tightness is delicious. you feel so comfy and hot that the heat is spreading throughout his entire body and replacing the blood in his veins with molten lava. he feels his cheeks becoming hot, his palms sweaty and brain feeling like it's melting.
for you, the pain from the stretch burns. you know it'll subside once you get used to him but his thickness is currently the issue. he is being careful and content, going ever so slow for you. he has a little under half his length in and you already feel full.
“it’s not all of it but you're still so tight so we shall go from here.” jisung manages to say through his laboured breaths. he gives you a few minutes to adjust, his hands gripping onto you as he painfully waits.
you give him a nod that tells him it's ok. he starts of slowly, the burn still there but pleasure is soon quick to override it. you reach down and hold onto his wrists as he slowly picks up the tempo. 
his head tilts to the side and his lips part slightly. soft moans and grunts leave his lips. you hold onto him, your body rocking with each thrust of his hips.
“aah fuck. you feel even better than i imagined.” he pants.
“y-you too. please go a little faster and harder.” jisung nods and starts to thrust harder and faster. your back arches as pleasure hugs your body tightly, making you feel like you're suffocating. moans being lodged in your throat.
jisung leans over you, resting on his forearms that are beside your head. the new position allows him to push a little bit of his length deeper inside you but his hips slow down. his movements are long, slow and sensual. 
the ridges of his cock rub your gummy walls, reaching places that have never been touched before. jisung leans down, burying his head into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“this feels too good.” his voice is hoarse and low due to his throat being dry from panting. his hair sticks to his skin, the tips coated in sweat as his body glistens.
“it does. you're so deep, ji. please don't stop.” you whisper in his ear, moaning a few times.
“fuck.. you sound so fucking pretty moaning my name. is it even possible to become even more addicted to you?” he kisses your neck slowly and gently. 
your gummy walls tighten around him. both of you reaching your peaks. denying yourselves from previous orgasms meant that it's been building and building up to this point.
“i can't..” you stutter, nail digging into his back.
“me too.. i think i’m at my limit.” you whimper and nod as a response. a few more thrusts and you both orgasm together. your walls flutter around him whilst he twitches and empties into the condom.
you both pant heavily, exhaustion settling in. jisung's arms shake a little, threatening to give up and collapse on top of you. using the remaining strength he has, he pushes himself up and pulls out slowly, taking off the condom, tying and discarding it.
you spread out on the bed, eyes slowly closing. jisung laughs and kisses your forehead gently. he rushes to the bathroom, running a warm bubble bath for you both.
he gently scoops you up in his arms, placing you in the tub before settling behind you. after washing yourselves, you both take a few minutes to relax. you lean into his chest, listening and feeling his steady heartbeat.
“i’m sorry about before..” he mumbles as he strokes your hair slowly. “i became too excited and lost myself in the moment.”
“it’s ok. all's forgiven.” you grin, looking up at him. your grin falters as you look at him. his head dipped low, chin tucked into his chest. his boba eyes glistening as he chews his bottom lip. “hey, it's ok.” 
you spin around to face him in the tub, kneeling uncomfortable in the small tub. you cup his damp cheeks gently, water droplets falling from the tips of his hair. he looks at you and pouts softly.
“but i sca–” you press your lips against his to silence him. his eyes widen a little but he is quick to kiss back.
“i said it's ok. you stopped and you snapped out of it pretty quickly. don't beat yourself up about it, baby. besides–” you push his hair back gently “i enjoyed my first time with you.”
“me too.” his cheeks flush pink, whether from him feeling shy or the humidity of the bathroom. “i’d love to do it with you again.”
“the feelings mutual.” you giggle before kissing his forehead. “now c’mon, let's get to bed. it's been a long night and i’m exhausted.”
jisung agrees and gets out of the tub with you. you both dry yourselves off and get ready for bed. jisung suddenly scoops you up in his arms which causes you to squeal and laugh. he walks to the bed, gently placing you down.
you snuggle into the duvet, watching jisung get in beside you. he faces you, holding your hand gently.
“i love you, yn. i love you so much.” he plays with your fingers as he whispers those sweet and delicate words to you. your heart flutters and skips beats, time freezing for nth time.
“i love you too, ji. forever and always.” 
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moonrisecoeur · 5 months
Text
adoration — leon kennedy
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author’s note: this is absolutely disgustingly horrifically soft. not my usual content but i hope you like it! also to anyone who doesn’t follow me i don’t usually write sub!reader so please don’t request it!
wc: 2.3k
content: leon x reader, fem!reader, not really sub or dom tho i guess it leans more towards dom!leon but it’s super soft, so many pet names, lots of praise, lots of compliments, possessiveness, leon’s down bad but we already knew that, work stress, a little bit of reader being insecure about her looks, riding, unwrapped p in v sex, boyfie leon !!
“there you are,” his voice is gentle just like him. he smiles as he embraces you in a sweet hug, wondering why the universe was so cruel as to pull you away from him for so long every single day. he wishes he could stay right next you, arms wrapped around you, head resting against yours, never letting you go.
he’s only a little possessive, in a cute way rather than a unnerving way. he just likes being with you too much to ever be content when you’re not around.
the best part, in his opinion, is how you hold him back. arms around his waist, mumbling to yourself more so than leon about how much you miss his hugs, “awh, it’s okay, honey. know you missed me,” he teases, and it’s so blatant that out of the two of you, he’s the one who’s down bad, absolutely gone. he’s lucky that you’re not super greedy because he would give you anything you asked for.
your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck is more than enough to make him adore you for the rest of eternity. he reaches a hand up to your face, and watching your head tilt up to sweetly meet his gaze has to be the most deadly thing you’ve ever done. he feels physically giddy as you look at him curiously, wondering if he has someone to say as his fingers caress your cheek and jawline. soft skin beneath his rough fingers. he adores you. endlessly.
“so pretty…” he mumbles, sweet nothings murmuring their way past his lips as his hands cup your cheeks so he can hold you and look at you head on, blue eyes taking in every feature on your sweet face. he can’t help but love it all. he loves your face, he would stare at you for hours if you wouldn’t think it’s weird. he breathes in, inhaling your scent, so recognizable it’s comforting, “my pretty girl, mine all mine.”
you sigh comfortably, melting into him and his touch. it’s alright; he’s got you. he always does.
he leans to press a kiss to your forehead, “all mine..” he whispers again, like he’s reassuring himself, “want you all to myself. hate it when you’re gone.”
you giggle, a little bit breathless. he can tell his own effect on you and it strokes his ego wildly. he knows you secretly love his more possessive side, enjoying that he can’t even be bothered to look at another woman without being reminded about how much he loves and adores you. you’re his baby! he couldn’t ever want someone else!
“can i have you all to myself?” he asks, lips trailing down to your ear.
“mhm,” you hum, nodding your head cutely, and he can’t help the way he absolutely crumbles. god he’s really losing it, you’re absolutely everything to him. you’re too precious for him to ever let go.
“i love you,” he whispers as he kiss your jaw, your face still cradled in his hands like you’re too fragile for him to ever let you go.
“i love you too,” you whisper back. that’s all he’d ever need from you: your love. he could want a million things, but this moment tells him the truth. he’s yours. completely, and helplessly yours.
one hand still steady on holding your face, smiling as you lean more into his touch, his other hand dips back down, over your waist and hips and between your thighs in a way that aches so pleasantly. it’s impossible to tell when exactly you got so wet from this completely normal interaction but he notices too and he’s already too confident. it’ll go to his head at this point. oh well. you’d get back at him another time to bring him back down to earth.
“oh, pretty girl, i can tell my words are affecting you…” he says softly. he says it like it’s a question but he already knows the answer, “but…. if you need something, you can tell me.”
his voice is the only thing you can sensibly hear right now, everything else drowned out with his strong arms holding you close. the way you pout makes his heart race because god you are so adorable that it kills him.
“baby, if you need me to do something, you gotta let me know. i’m not a mind reader,” his voice, thick and syrupy, seeps into your skin and drives you mad with a need to be his. in all ways humanly possible.
and for him to be yours too. you know that this is all an act, that every moment so far in this interaction has been real but with an undertone that you both can easily sense. you control leon in all the ways that matter. you mold him into exactly what you want, and he contorts himself willingly because he wants to be everything you want and need in a man. he’s yours just as much, if not infinitely more, as you’re his.
“can you praise me..?” you whisper, soft and timid. even if you’re not normally the shy type, it all seems to come crumbling down when leon holds you close.
“that’s my girl,” he smiles. sure, he could tease you more, especially with how nonspecific your request was. but you’re desperate and he’s too soft on you to make you wait any longer, “pretty and sweet and all mine.”
even as you huff, muttering something trying to push back against his words. i’m not actually that pretty, or something like that, leon’s shaking his head, in disbelief that a being as ethereal as his lover could ever, even for a moment, believe themselves to be unattractive.
but this isn’t the moment. he can tell you don’t want a lecture on self love or positive self talk right now. it wouldn’t do any good to tell you that he thinks you’re beautiful if you wouldn’t believe it, so he just does as you ask like the obedient boyfriend he is. he’ll tackle that beast another time.
“my pretty girl, my good girl…” he whispers, hands cradling your head against his chest, fingers tendering brushing against your skin as you close your eyes and just let leon speak to you. he’s never been good with words until he fell in love with you, “so proud of you, sweetheart. you worked so hard, even with everything you got going on. my baby’s so strong, isn’t she?”
you nod even as he holds you, maybe just a little too emotional to respond any other way.
“but you don’t always gotta be strong, you can let your walls down when it’s just me, baby. i promise i’ll take care of you,” he whispers, lips pressed against your forehead again. and once he thinks he’s buttered you up enough, he mumbles something like, “tell me what’s bugging you, princess.”
“i… i don’t wanna go to work anymore…” you mumble against his shirt, and he’s looking at you like you’re the cutest thing in the world, “i hate working. just wanna be with you.”
he laughs heartily, and you can feel the vibrations against his chest. his presence just entices comfort, one of his hands resting atop your head, “i know, baby. i wanna be with you always too,” he says.
“it’s not fair..”
he pouts when you pout, the world just had to be so unfair, “i know it’s not. if it were up to me, you’d never work a day in your life, but… you know, unfortunately i’m not that rich.”
you chuckle, and he’s relieved he at least got that out of you.
he can’t help getting distracted, “god you’re so fucking pretty,” he mumbles, hands dropping down to your waist, holding you close like he’s preparing to never let go, “so beautiful, baby. and you’re so perfect,” he tilts his head to look at you, making dangerous eye contact again, face just inches apart, “you’re so… lovely. i could stay here with you forever.”
you smile softly and it lights up the room and his entire life. you hold him close like you never want to let him go, and he feels pretty little butterflies in his stomach.
he leans in to kiss you, finally, and one arm stays wrapped possessively around your waist, as if to steal you away from the rest of the world, and one hand reaches back up to cup your cheek. he kisses you sweetly, not too rough or aggressive, just enough to make you want to drown in his touch, his scent, his presence.
“leon..!” you gasp between kisses, and he’s never liked his name as much as he likes it when your lips say it.
he pulls away to search for any hint that you need him to stop, that your breathless whisper of his name was a plea for escape, and he doesn’t seem to find any. his eyes trail down to your lips again, as if taunted by them, “what do you need, baby?”
“you,” you whisper, your lips finding his neck, kissing him softly. he’s not sure when you exactly decided you would try to kill him but the way your lips feel against him is lethal in its own way.
“yeah? my baby need me?”
“mhm,” you smile, he feels it against his skin, “your pretty girl needs to feel as pretty as you think she is.”
and something pulls at leon’s heart at that little statement. it’s not sad or pitiful, nor is it said with a sad tone, but he wonders what it means to you. do you believe him when he calls you that? god, you have to, he’s too obsessed with you for it to even be questionable if he thinks you’re pretty.
he practically drags you to bed, sits down on the edge and pulls you onto his lap, fingers immediately between your legs, feeling that familiar wetness that he loves, pressing down on your clit with his thumb.
“good girl, just like that… grind on my hand, let yourself feel good,” he murmurs, “this is about you, so be selfish, baby. take what you want from me.”
he likes how needy you get because maybe, just maybe, that means you need him just as badly as he needs you. it soothes him, in a way.
“i’ll fill you up nice and full later, but for now… just sit here with me… just let me touch you, pretty, i’ll make you feel good.”
and you just curl up into him, holding onto his shoulder for support as takes every whine and moan and absolutely devours them. his fingers have gotten rougher over the years, but that roughness feels good when he’s rubbing figure eights on your clit, fingers moving in circular motions inside your pretty pussy, bringing you to closer orgasm sooner than you thought. he’s just that good.
“there you go, princess. just feel it all. just close your eyes… and feel me against you,” he whispers, “you’re so cute when you’re feeling good. well, you’re always cute, but you know what i mean.”
“leon…” your whiny voice is met with a chuckle from him.
“hm?”
“i’m gonna cum…” you mumble, resting your head in the crook of his neck again, must be your favorite spot.
he likes that you don’t ask permission because why would you? he’d never deny you, not pleasure nor anything else you want in life. no, you say it like a warning, like a don’t you dare stop kind of warning. he wouldn’t dare.
“c’mon, pretty. let yourself have it,” he mumbles, lips almost touching your ear, that’s how close they are.
leon’s selfish, he can’t help it. he makes you orgasm because he wants to give you pleasure, sure, but he’s also doing it because he loves watching you cum. not so much right now, with your head buried away, but he likes seeing your orgasm face, he likes that you shut your eyes tightly and your eyebrows furrow and your mouth hangs open just slightly. you’re so pretty when you cum.
if he’s being honest, he should have made you look at him when you came, but he knows you were feeling a little shy today so he didn’t push.
and the feeling of your cunt clenching on his fingers turns him on beyond belief. he feels the pressure of the orgasm, and he knows it’s a big one, so of course he helps you through it, fucking his fingers as deep as possible, loving the achy moans that escape your throat. you’re not super loud but you’re also right by his ear so he hears every gasp and moan and whimper as you cum for him. he adores you so painfully.
“there you go, good girl…” he whispers, cradling you close as you both fall back against the bed, holding each other as the wetness on his hand starts to dry but your body still pulses with a reminder of how much pleasure just flooded through you.
it’s almost too paralyzing to speak, and you make pretty little sounds as you shift to get comfortable that make leon’s heart jump. he holds your waist as you lay half on top of him.
he looks at your face, radiant with a comfortable glow you’ve been missing this whole time. in his arms, in your shared bed, it’s safe and soft and leon holds you close with no intentions of letting go.
“should we…” he starts, and you lift your head slightly to look at him as he speaks, “cancel our dinner reservations? order in, we’ll get whatever my sweet lover wants, and we can just stay in bed all night?”
you can’t help but giggle, “yeah. i wanna keep kissing you for at least another hour.”
“yes, ma’am.”
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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 2 years
Text
Wild Horses
Part 1
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Doctor!Reader
Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4
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A/N: Just a little idea I had after seeing all the TikToks and now I am yanked onto the Ghost train. I used to watch my brother play the game but that was a while ago so bear with me here. (advice or little pointers are much appreciated). I also might make this into a short story or add another part to it, let me know y’all. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!
Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.
Warnings: language, fluff, angst
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You were assigned to the team as their personal physician, as requested by the higher ups in order to make sure the soldiers stayed in best health, both physically and mentally. You used to work at your local hospital before you were offered the position.
You knew the dangers and the risks involved, but you were in debt and had student loans that needed to paid. So after much hesitation, you accepted the offer, eventually being convinced by the fat paycheck.
You remembered the day you were first introduced to the team, the way everyone's eyes glued to you like a hawk, their large forms towering over your small frame in the room while you picked at the skin around your nails in nervous habit.
They were curious to say the least, wondering what the hell someone like you was doing in a place like this. And since when did they get the chance to have a full on doctor to treat them, usually they were offered combat medics. You had guts, that's for sure.
You on the other hand were nervous, frightened even, with the thought of living in the same quarters of men wrapped up within the tumults and afflictions of war without a single clue as to their current psychological state. You had seen the worst of men and humanity growing up and you no idea who these soldiers were, what they were capable of, or what their intentions might be. Maybe you should have requested that briefing before you hopped on that plane.
Amongst all of their gazes, you had failed to notice a certain masked individual in the far back of the room, his form shrouded amongst the others as he studied you. His eyes, hidden underneath the grooves of his mask that only seemed to be darkened by where he stood blocked by the only source of light, watched your every movement, from every gesture of your perfectly manicured fingers to every smoothing of the lint-free fabric of your sweater to the way you kept shifting your weight from one foot to another.
One thing was apparent; during the entire length the high ranking officer next to you introduced you and debriefed the men on what was expected and such, you had not uttered a single word, minus the small polite and somewhat strained smile on your face while your eyes told another story. Why the military truly hired you, he may never know.
After being shown your little office and workspace including your room, you were quick to settle in, decorating the area to the best of your abilities with what you had taken with you from back home in order to bring some life into the dull and two-dimensional area. If anyone questioned you on it you would just say that your own sanity is extremely vital in order to ensure quality treatment for your patients.
Once everything in your office was set up, you threw on your white coat and retreated yourself to your office space, sitting at your desk and hastily going over the files that you had completely forgotten about that were given to you regarding the soldiers' previous health before they come pouring in reporting symptoms of god knows what. Best be prepared. Jesus how many bullet wounds can a single individual have.
The soldiers were advised to do their routine physical examinations with you so the first one to come waltzing in through your office door was none other than Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a cheeky grin plastered on his face and much too excited for his own good. That boy's got a crush on you I swear. To be honest I'd be lying if I said the whole team didn't have a schoolboy crush on you.
The men were quick to warm up to you, relieved to have a gentle soul in their midst after all the shit that goes down outside, you were like breath of fresh air. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to bring a doctor on board, as quiet and reserved as you were. They speculated you were just shy, the reason why you never spoke much, not knowing that you just couldn't hold a conversation if your life depended on it, especially around those you weren't close with. At first they couldn't tell because of your major rbf.
During their routine check-ups or whatever issue they had going on, they would do most of the talking, which was a good thing on your end because it helped you to piece together their temperaments. Thank the lord no one is a psycho murderer. Oh wait.
Soap is the most chattiest of them all. Boy wouldn't shut his mouth when he sat in your office. He's super flirty. But not as flirty as Alejandro.
Ghost on the other hand was reluctant to step into your office for his check-ups. After all he was usually the one to tend to his own wounds or just push through whatever it is that is going on, so he did not know what all the fuss was about in having to get his health checked. So when you call out his last name more than once might I add, clipboard in hand and scanning the area for whoever looks to be headed in your direction, he can't help but heave out a sigh, trudging over to where you stood, your clean white coat a stark contrast to the rest of the environment as you leaned against your door to hold it open.
You muttered out a small hello to which he let out a small huff as you moved aside to let the man enter, watching him walk into your office and seat himself down. That man intimidated you a bit not gonna lie. Not only could you not see his face but he had also not said a single word to you. And not to mention he was absolutely huge as compared to you, even more so in person. You also had heard a lot of stories from the other guys.
"How is your day?" You ask, shutting the door behind you as you briefly read over his previous but extremely short records on your clipboard. There's barely anything on this man. Does he not get ill?
Ghost is quiet at first, watching your eyes scan over the clipboard and curious to know just what is on those papers before your eyes flit up to meet his and catch him off guard, which causes him to answer abruptly. "Fine."
"Okey dokes." You give a quick smile.
Did you just say okey dokes.
Clearing your throat, you go over to where he sat and set the clipboard down on the table next to you beside your laptop. You didn’t have to read his body language to know he did not want to be here at all. So you were going to do him a favor and make the appointment as quick as possible.
"So do you have any allergies to any medications, any allergies I need to know of?" Your fingers hover over the keyboard of your laptop as you turn to face him, only to be met with an expressionless skull of a mask and the expressionless eyes beneath. Oh boy this session was going to be something. You had heard of how he had never shown his face, so you made sure not to question on it.
"No ma'am."
"Are you currently taking any medication?" You ask the same standard set of questions you have asked every single patient of yours, typing as you go.
"No ma'am."
Any previous illness? Disease?"
"No."
The more you ask him questions, the more he strangely finds it easier to answer. Your voice is surprisingly soft, warm even, like the start of autumn, and he finds it comforting to listen to. Or maybe it's just some technique doctors learn during training in order to relax their patients.
"Do you have any history of smoking, alcohol, or illicit drug use?"
".......sometimes I'll have a smoke, and a glass of bourbon." He's almost waiting for you to hand him a pamphlet about the dangers of smoking.
"How many times would you say?" You ask for details, your eyes still glued to the screen of your laptop as you await his answer.
Ghost is a bit confused by the amount of questions you ask, but he also has not been to the doctor's so how would he know. "Um I don't know."
"A rough estimate is fine."
"Not much, maybe 2-3 times a week or so when I'm not on duty."
"How many times a week do you exercise?" You feel silly for asking this question to a man like him but it's all part of the procedure and you almost pray he doesn't hate you for it.
"Every day." So no pamphlet?
Jesus this man has more discipline than you. You can barely get up in the morning.
"Okayyy." You mutter out, more to yourself as you enter in his responses.
Ghost finds himself watching you from his seat on the chair, his eyes tracing over and studying your features as you type away on your laptop. He thinks you're really pretty but either doesn't want to admit it or just flat out does not know that he finds you attractive.
There are certain details about you that he can't help but find himself intrigued by, like the small black outline flower tattoo on your hand that was located near the area of your thumb, running along the curve to meet the knuckle of your forefinger. He's curious as to the meaning behind it, if there was one. He wanted to ask what type of flower it was, perhaps it was your favorite? It would give him an idea as to what flowers to get you.
"Have you ever been hospitalized, had any surgical procedures done or been treated for any chronic conditions?"
"No." Ghost shakes his head before remembering his wounds from combat, wondering if that is something you should know. "Just the bullet and knife wounds from combat. Nothing too serious."
Jesus fucking christ. You were willing to bet he treated those wounds himself.
Ghost is not a fan of hospitals. Pretty sure this dude just looks up YouTube tutorials on how to fix himself instead of just going to the doctor like a normal human being.
"When was the last time you visited your general practitioner.......or just any doctor in general?" You ask the last question, willing to bet it never.
There was silence on his end as you looked towards him waiting for an answer, the clicking of your keyboard coming to a stop and only loudening the silence. Ghost could not remember the last time he had been to a hospital or even scheduled a visit. And as you looked at him, your eyes almost staring into his soul, still waiting for a response, he could not help but feel a tad bit embarrassed, as if you were judging him for not being a responsible adult. Also it didn't help that you were goddamn pretty.
"I'm gonna take that as a very long time, the last time being the prehistoric ages, correct?" There's the slightest hint of a tease in your voice.
"Uh.......yes ma'am." Ghost squints his eyes at you as you go back to typing on your keyboard. Did you just.............did you just call him…..He does not know how to feel about that. Did you just try to crack a joke? He always thought doctors were the serious type.
"Okay then." You straighten up, grabbing your sphygmomanometer off the table and turning yourself to face him. "Is it okay if I check your blood pressure?"
The man is stunned. No one has ever asked his permission for anything before. He's so used to either taking orders or giving orders that he doesn't know how to respond and stares at you for a moment, forcing his brain to process what to do next before eventually giving a nod.
"Is it okay if you take your jacket off so I can get a clearer reading?"
He nods again, still in shock as he takes off his jacket, leaving him in his black long sleeve thermal. He's almost thankful he wasn't in his full tactical gear, having to imagine you standing there waiting for him as he removes every single piece of equipment off his torso.
"Thank you." You give him a short smile, placing your hand under his tricep and gently lifting his arm in order to wrap the inflatable cuff around his bicep. You almost blush at the mere size of this man's arms. "Now you're just going to feel a slight pressure okay."
Ghost can't help but feel a slight warmth spread to his cheeks at the way you handle him with such care, as if he were the small delicate thing and not you. Now he knows why the others were so giddy after leaving your office.
As you place your stethoscope on his forearm near his elbow to listen to his blood pumping through the artery, your other hand pumping air into the cuff using the inflation bulb with your eyes glued to the numbers on the gauge, he can't help but to notice the old Donald Duck watch that sat at your wrist, the ones with the moving arms and the vintage style black leather straps.
And as he further investigated your attire, he noticed a few other details, like the colorful glittery badge reel in the shape of a pill container with the words "licensed drug dealer" printed on it that was attached to your scrub top, the glitter sticker with the words "I'm nicer than my face looks" as well a few Disney character stickers and the little frog looking keychain that hung off of your badge. He was wondering what the hell that thing was. Your accessories were awfully colorful for a general doctor. Something was telling him you either used to work with families or children. Whatever the hell managed to bring you to such a drastic change.
You brought him out of his thoughts as you shifted from your position, unwrapping the inflatable cuff from around his bicep and placing it back on the table before typing the results into your laptop. "Okay," You adjust the ear pieces of your stethoscope back into your ears as you turn back to him, "I'm going to perform some auscultations, which is just listening to the sounds of your heart and your lungs so if you could just sit up straight and relax that would be wonderful."
Simon straightens up his posture as you place your free hand on his shoulder, at this point you're not sure if you're steadying him or yourself, your fingertips just barely grazing across the bottom of his neck. He doesn't know why but, it's as if your fingers are directly touching the skin underneath, despite the fabric of his mask that separated your fingers from his skin. Your hands feels hot, like really hot and he has no clue why.
The soldier only feels his cheeks warm up even more so now as you inch closer to carefully place the diaphragm of your stethoscope on his chest, your head tilted and your eyes lowered to the floor as you listen for his heart beat. He gets a whiff of your perfume and he finds himself drawn to it. You smell like something along the lines of jasmine petals, geranium, myrrh, frankincense, and a hint of sandalwood. Now he definitely knows why the others are fawning over you. Poor Simon is praying you don't hear how his heart is nearly racing. He does not know why he is feeling this way and it slightly bothers him in the way that he has no clue what it is he is feeling.
He catches how your brows slightly furrow at the center and his heart skips a beat. Now he's fucking embarrassed and this man rarely ever is embarrassed. Maybe he's even starting to panic. Can you tell? Do you know? You open your mouth to say something but he quickly interrupts he just got back from a run so you dismiss it with a shrug, placing the diaphragm on his back now and asking him to give you a couple of deep breaths.
"Okay. Take a deep breathe in, breathe it out. Breathe in, and out."
He complies with your instructions, breathing in slow and deep breaths as you go from one side of his back to another.
"Good job." You remove the earpieces and let your stethoscope hang around your neck as you go back to your table, recording in more info. Hang on did you just, did you just tell a grown 6'4" man good job.
Even Simon is confused. Like bitch.
"Okay, so we're all done with that." You inform him, before going over to one of the drawers and sliding it open. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to have some blood work done on you, just to make sure there are no underlying issues that need to be taken care of."
Simon is silent so you turn to him. "Is that okay, Ghost, is that what the others call you? Would you like me to call you Ghost?"
Goddamn you're too polite. "That's fine by me ma'am."
"Perfect. Now is it okay if I take your blood sample?"
Ghost nods, so you grab the tools necessary and place them on the table next to you.
"Could you please roll your sleeve up and make a fist for me? Thank you." You ask him once you sanitize your hands and throw on a pair of fresh gloves. You grab the tourniquet and catch sight of the tattoos that cover his forearm as you tie the tourniquet around his arm above the elbow. You're curious to know the story behind them but you have a feeling he's not one for storytelling or just talking in general so you remain silent. You tear open the small packet of the alcohol wipe and apply it to the area. The chemical is cool against his skin as you sanitize the area before letting it air dry. Simon can't help but notice how small your hands are.
Simon watches you intently as you work, the way you are so focused and so precise with each step, and yet so gentle. It's almost cute.
"You're just going to feel a little pinch." You tell him in a soft tone, a tone you were used to using on all your little patients before inserting the needle into his vein. As if the man hasn't been shot or stabbed and god knows what multiple times before.
At this point Simon doesn't even notice the needle in his arm, he's too focused on the details of your face. He can sense that you're nervous around him and he feels bad. Even though he's just met you, the last thing he wants is for you to feel scared or unsafe around him. And even though this whole situation is awkward for him since he never was a fan of visiting the hospital, you're their physician, and at the end of the day you're there to patch them up. So he comments on your dark circles, thinking you haven't gotten any rest since you arrived here. "You look tired."
"............that's just my face." You give him that distinct smile, the same smile you have given anyone who ever commented on them as you connect the vacutainers to the needle to draw his blood, your eyes glued to the dark red liquid seeping through the thin clear tube before pouring into the sample tube.
If you thought it was quiet before, well you are most definitely wrong because the silence is absolutely deafening now.
Simon nearly punches himself for his stupidity. Why in the bloody hell did he say that of all things. He wanted to tell you he liked your dark circles but decided to bite his tongue instead. Now he's definitely not going to say another word. Better yet, once he leaves your office, he's not coming back. He's just going to avoid you at all costs in order to save both you and himself the embarrassment. He's willing to bet the others handled this way better than him.
"But I suppose I am a bit jet-lagged though. Haven't really gotten any rest since I got on that plane." You add. "I appreciate your concern."
You most definitely said that to make him feel better about himself, Simon thinks to himself as he stares at the wall and avoids your face. There was no other reason.
Once your done drawing his blood you ask him to hold the piece of cotton pad down onto where the needle was punctured as you open up the drawer where the gauze is located. "Do you have a favorite color?"
Did you just ask him his favorite color? Simon stares at you blankly. Were all doctors this odd?
"I'm guessing you like black?" You pull out the roll of black gauze, displaying it in front of you with the most deadpanned expression possible.
You've got jokes. Simon thinks to himself. If he had looked a little closer he would have noticed the ghost of a smirk on your lips.
"You should see the colors the others picked." You tease as you wrap the gauze around his arm at the elbow, making sure it isn't too tight but also not loose enough to the point where the cotton pad underneath slips out.
Simon narrows his eyes at you. Bloody fucking hell. The others picked a color?
You're pretty sure Gaz requested you get an Elmo print one he saw online once somewhere. Soap asked if there a print of the Scotland flag available. The look of hurt on his face when you said there wasn't so you improvised and gave him both the blue and white gauze. You gave him a Dum-Dum lollipop to make him feel better. The others may have also gotten a lollipop as they left your office, especially after seeing the special treatment that Soap received. Were they jealous? Maybe.
Once you tell the man he is all good to go and that you will call him once you're done getting the results from his blood sample, he nearly jumps out of the chair and bolts out of your office. He prays some unknown miracle happens and that his blood sample magically disappears so that he doesn't have to face you, firmly believing he insulted you and that you thought he called you ugly when that is not what he intended. I am telling you this man does not know how to compliment. They should make a guidebook for dummies specialized just for him.
You watch him disappear out your door with a quirked brow. Well that was fucking weird.
When Simon leaves the area he finds Soap lounging about on a chair with a sucker in his mouth.
"The hell is that?" Simon squints at the sergeant.
"Mph mph." Soap's voice comes out muffled.
"What?"
Soap pauses and turns to see Ghost looming over him. "It's a Dum-Dum."
"A fuckin what?"
"Y/n said they're called Dum-Dums." Soap pulls it out of his mouth, twisting the stick of the lollipop around in his fingers as if he were inspecting it. "This one's a cotton candy flavor."
"She gave you a fuckin lollie?"
"It's pure dead brilliant I tell ya. Why, did she not give ya one?"
More silence. Simon would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't a tad bit butthurt.
"Maybe you scared her." Soap jokes.
Simon lets out a grumbled incoherent huff and walks away.
Soap just shrugs and pops the lollipop back in his mouth.
Simon has a feeling he is going to go to bed thinking about his actions.
Part 2
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00-jammy-00 · 12 days
Note
HI!
Could you do a reader deity who is basically forgotten but Yan finds them and worshippes the hell out of them? (Maybe to the point of having a cult if you're comfortable)
And if you're uncomfortable with the ask that's perfectly fine! I'll probably send another Idea then!
Also any chance I could be 🔪 anon?
Thank you and have a good day! :D
Yan!Worshipper HC’s
Yan!Worshipper x GN! Deity! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, implied stalking, nsfw mentions, manipulation, cult themes, he’s really pathetic I won’t lie
A/N - One more day until my 1K follower special ends!
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Yan!Worshipper who had stumbled upon you when he decided to listen to his dumbass boss and go hiking. He had fallen down the side of a hill, almost breaking his ankle in the process. Though, all of that pain was so worth it when he saw your old, ruined shrine.
Yan!Worshipper who began visiting once a week. When you noticed you had finally gotten a follower, you were excited so you showed yourself when he prayed. He saw stars. You were so gorgeous, so perfect. Just seeing you had his jaw dropped and his pants uncomfortably tight.
Yan!Worshipper whose schedule slightly changed. Visiting you once a week, once every three days, once a day, multiple times a day… It didn’t matter though! He quit his job because you blessed him with amazing luck. He fixed up your shrine but he still felt horrible, you were forgotten. He did the only thing he could think of doing and started to spread the word about you.
Yan!Worshipper who slowly developed a following for you, just a few people here and there…a few hundred. He was a devoted man okay?! Of course he led the cult, none of these fuckers were worthy. None of them were allowed to gaze upon you but him. Only he could bask in your presence, bathe you, dress you, watch you, follow you, fuck you.
Yan!Worshipper who snapped a few necks while attempting to keep this cult going. Some people were so ungrateful, didn’t see what you had to offer. He made sure to soothe you whenever you got too stressed about the disappearances too. “It’s okay, my love, they are apart of something bigger, now look at all the offerings you are getting!” He made sure these brainless drones donated a bunch to this fucking thing too, he couldn’t go broke while servicing you.
Yan!Worshipper who is attending to your every need constantly. He brought you the finest silks, the biggest bed, the ripest fruit and anything else you wanted, as long as you were pleased then he was happy. It made him even more happy when you let him service you in other ways.
Yan!Worshipper who pounds you like the world is ending tomorrow. He can’t help but constantly be touching you, admiring you. He drags his fingers down your body, memorising every single piece of you. You were all his! He didn’t care about his own pleasure when his god was sitting right there. He once came three times just from giving you head.
Yan!Worshipper who’ll never let the cult be shut down. He’s paid off police and government officials to turn a blind eye to the murders sacrifices that happen at the mountain. He couldn’t have his work taken away. God forbid you get taken away. You’re his now. You chose him.
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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nanaslutt · 8 months
Note
gojo's first time meeting you and instantly noticing your freckles. like nothing other than your freckles, not even the clothes you're wearing rn or your hair or eyes.
freckles.
and im absolutely sure geto would be so fed up with gojo ranting about how he wants to kiss every single one of them.
oh my god this is so cute???????? this reminds me of gojos cannon reaction to seeing geto for the first time and thinking “bangs” lol
contains: fem transfer student!reader, 3rd year satosugu, geto choosing to stay at jujutsu tech au, the boys are both 19 here, Geto has morals, gojo uhhhhhh, crackkk, fluff, perv!gojo, masturbation, caught masturbating, fantasizing
note: the toji fic will b posted later tonight or tmrw morn :p
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
Freckles………
If you looked close enough you might be able to see the white orbs floating around Gojo’s head,
“Uhhh, sorry is there something on my face” you spoke up when he didn’t say anything after you introduced yourself.
Satoru getting jolted out of his trance when suguru landed a mean smack on the back of his head, pouting at his dark haired bestfriend.
“Sorry about him,” geto apologized on his behalf, “he can be quite oblivious to how his actions affect other people.” suguru grit behind his teeth, looking out the corner of his eye to see satoru shooting daggers at him.
“Asshole…” the white haired man mumbled under his breath, looking up from under his white lashes, gaze set back on your face, watching you rub the back of your neck, saying something to geto.
Words leaving your mouth sounding muffled as his gaze dropped to your neck, noticing that the brown spots trailed further and further down the length of your neck, even traveling under the collar of your shirt, where the cloth obstructed his view.
Lip twitching up breifly at his annoyance, wanting to see just how far the freckles really went.
“Right satoru?” Suguru laughed, both of you directing your attention to the albino, “god da-“ smacking him harder once more on the back of his head, sending him his body curling in on himself on the ground and groaning, “manners satoru jesus christ.” suguru smacks a heavy hand over his face at gojos antics.
Gojo let his head fall of the edge of sugurus bed, silky hair falling around his ears, suguru laying against the headboard, flipping through some magazine, sugurus low-fi playlist playing softly in the backround.
“God….did you see how her frek-“ Geto swiftly cutting him off by kicking his foot into his shin, “satoru i swear to god if you say one more thing about her fucking freckles i’m going to cut out your tongue.” he spat, not looking up from his magazine.
For days after your first meeting he would not shut up about how cute he found your freckles.
Learning when you wore a skimpy tank top when sparing with shoko, that the cute spots not only covered your pretty face, but your arms and hands too.
Watching the light hit your skin as your body moved swiftly, shirt lifting when you flipped and twisted yourself, seeing the freckles and moles scattered across your tummy.
Shirt barely having lifted for a couple milliseconds, but he didn’t have good eyesight for nothing. Gojo quickly memorizing the placement of the dots and engraving it in his brain.
Brain practically short circuiting when the sun was beating down on the school a little too how one day, meaning he got to see you in shorts.
short, skimpy, tight, shorts.
It was like you wanted him to look, leaning over the counter, knees perched on the stool and elbows on the counter, cradling your soft cheeks in your hands as you spoke to shoko over the table.
Twisting your hips on the swivel stool, making the fabric of your shorts raise, letting him see even more brown spots on the insides of your thighs from his place on the couch behind you.
“torruuu,” geto caught him off gaurd, whispering into the shell of his ear, “quit bein a fucking perv.” turning to look at the not so friendly looking smile plastered on the dark haired mans face. ugh. buzzkill.
Taking them back to the present, “I know I knowww, you hate beauty we get it..” gojo drawled, sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes. Lucky the bed blocked geto’s view of gojo’s face from here, as he probably would’ve hit him.
“I just cannot stop thinking about kissing her cute little face, maybe her neck..” pausing for a second, getting too absolved in his words, “below her neck…” he whispered.
“Satoru, stop telling me about your perverted fantasies about our new classmate, please.” letting the magazine drop into his lap as he finally let himself look down at the man.
Geto quickly noticing the extremely obvious tent in his pants. “You have 2 seconds to get you and your boner off my bed or your not gonna like it.” geto growled.
Gojo let his body slide of the bed backwards headfirst into the hardwood floor. “You hate meeeee,” he dragged out his words dramatically, “You hate my happinesssss” he continued, geto closing his eyes and shook his head, feeling a headache come on at his antics.
“I hate your penis.” Geto corrected. “She has a mind of her own, it’s not my faul,” gojo defended, sprawling his limbs out on the floor.
“Did you just refer to your dick as ‘she’?” Geto asked, needing to clarify the insanity gojo was spouting, leaning over the end of his bed to get a better look at the white haired freak.
“Well yeah,” he stated like it was obvious, “cant be a ‘him’, that would be gay.”
Geto blinked at him, glancing at the ceiling to center himself before he looked back at the man on the floor. Leaning back out of view, he picked up the magazine, throwing it straight at gojos crotch. Of course now of all times when geto decided to assault him, he had his infinity on.
“Oh that would’ve hurt so bad,” gojo closed his lanky legs together, covering his crotch with his hands. “I cant believe you really went for my nads.” gojo bit his lip in offense, faux crying at getos meaness.
Geto just rolled his eyes in response, flopping back into the bed, folding his hands over his chest as he was left entertain-less.
When the two of you finally exchanged numbers, he used the opportunity to ask to take a picture together; for your profile picture of course!
Definitely not because he wanted to stare at the picture by himself for hours; pinching the screen between his fingers, zooming in and out of on the photo as he now could really map out each and every one of your freckles.
Blushing when his brain compared them to the constellations, how romantic he thought.
What happened next was… less romantic.
Phone laid out on the bed underneath him while his hand laid next to it, bracing himself as he hovered above it, other hand rapidly stroking his cock.
Staring into your eyes unabashedly, no geto around to tell him off as he engraved whatever piece of your face he wanted into his brain permanently.
Squeezing over the tip when he looked at how big his hand looked compared to your shoulder, palm resting on it in the photo.
Twitching at the mole placed perfectly on your cleavage, getting a great view of the crack between your breasts from the high angle he held the phone at. Mentally patting himself on the back for that.
He had zoomed in onto your half of the photo, not wanting to look at himself while he masturbated.
Mouth watering with the urge to press his lips against every single one of your freckles. Imagining you giggling and blushing while he tickled your face with his soft lips making him dizzy.
Gojo imagined your hand instead of his, wrapped tightly around his cock. He imagined pressing his length against your plush lips, rubbing the tip over them, feeling your tongue dart out and lick his tip.
Groaning out your name when he came, abs clenching when ropes of cum spurted out of his dick, and all over the sheets underneath him.
Grimacing when he watched some of it land on his phone screen; disgust being slightly overpowered by how erotic your pixelated face looked with his cum decorating it.
“Satoru did you take my charger again? Swear i’m gonna kill you-“ Suguru cut himself short when he slid satoru’s door open, taking in the scene in front of him.
Geto wasn’t able to fully see his phone, but he knew full well what his jerk off material was.
Satoru gave him a dopey grin, practically seeing smoke emit from atop getos head as he slammed the door shut, kicking his foot against the wood and yelling out, “cant believe i’m best friends with such a pervert!” down the hallway, voice getting quieter the further he got away from gojos room.
Satoru didn’t care though, gazing back at his phone, picking it up in his palm before using his thumb to smear the cum over your smiling lips lewdly.
He absolutely needed to get his hands on you, and he would make sure he did.
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Your wish is my pleasure
Hi guys! The poll which story deserves a sequel came back pretty unambiguous! So, please enjoy more hunky Arab guys in the 3000 follower special: "Your wish is my pleasure"!
In case you want the first part first, here it is:
Greg looked at the lamp in his hand in disbelief. "Was that... because of what I said?"
One of the other guys, Maurice, who had been watching with his mouth open, nodded slowly. "It... seemed that way, bro! You wished for him to be gay and now Catherine is a fucking guy!"
Greg looked at James, and slowly, his disbelief turned into a smug grin that frightened James.
"Is that true, James? Are you gay now? Answer me!"
Again, James was compelled to answer, and so he said truthfully:
"Yes, master! That was your wish."
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Greg turned around to the rest of the guys. "Man, can you believe this? We can, like, wish for *anything* now! Unlimited money!"
"Unlimited women!", Maurice chimed in, getting on board.
"I don't know, but what about James?"
It was Kit, formerly Catherine, who spoke for the first time since his transformation into a hunky guy. He seemed rather uneasy about the whole thing.
"Fuck James!" exclaimed Greg. "He's a real life genie now! Think of all the things we can wish for! You, too, Catherine! You've got a dick now as well, wouldn't you want unlimited pussy for it?"
Kit raised his arms.
"Oohkay, first, it's Kit. And second: Ew. I don't want pussy, just the thought alone..." He shuddered. "No, I prefer cock. Lots and lots of big, throbbing cocks."
Kit licked his lips and looked around at the others, who slowly backed away from Kit.
"God, you're really a fag now, aren't you?" Greg said, looking amused. "Okay, so pussy for the rest of us, and cock for Kit. Fine. It's my wish and nobody can say me and the guys don't like homos, right, guys?"
James perked up. There was a... choice. Greg had clearly said 'my wish', but it still sounded a lot like 'I wish' - enough for whatever power that bound James to give him a choice if he wanted to react to it. And James wanted to. Revenge was best served cold.
"And so it shall be, master!" he boomed, and felt the power surge through him once more.
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"What? No! I didn't wish for anything!" Greg protested, but the other ones were quicker and just stared at Greg.
A wave of blue smoke emanated from James, the genie, and rolled over everyone, with the notable exclusion of Kit. As Greg breathed in the blue smog, his head was swimming all of a sudden and he had to close his eyes. When he opened them again, he suddenly saw his buddies in another light. He noticed things he never noticed before, like Maurice's cute nose or the way the muscles in his back rippled. Greg looked at his other friends and found that they were all handsome dudes. Kit was the cutest of them all, but that changed quickly. The temperature in the room seemed to rise and Greg, as well as his friends, one by one started pulling their shirts off, showcasing their changing bodies.
Every single one of them became even more handsome. Their chests gaining definition and toned muscles showing in the arms. Greg watched in wonder as his abs formed a six-pack and his hair styled itself into a modern, undeniably gay haircut. Every single one of them appeared to be well-groomed and body-focused now, even though they still had their individual touches.
"I... I'm hot." Greg whispered.
The other boys nodded. "Hell yes."
"And gay."
"Definitely."
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Greg only noticed he was almost painfully hard from watching his buddies transform into a bunch of flaming homosexuals, when Maurice came over and groped Greg's cock through his jeans. Greg moaned and looked Maurice into the eyes, easily losing himself in the sight. Almost without him wanting to, their faces came closer to each other until their lips locked and they started making out. Greg moaned into the kiss and pressed his body against his friend.
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While Greg and Maurice as well as the other ones were making out, Kit felt a little left out, but as he watched the two men, a certain feeling of arousal was creeping up on him. He looked at James, who was obviously also enjoying the show, judging by his tented underwear. That was a real man. Sure, the other guys were hot, but they were... American hot, but James was pure Arabian beef. And Kit felt bad for him, not able to participate.
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Suddenly, he had an idea. It took a bit of strength to separate Greg from Maurice, but due to his new muscular frame, Kit managed.
"Hey, Greg, you're really hot that way. But you know what would be even hotter?"
Greg's cock was throbbing in his pants and had already formed a wet spot from his pre on the front. That was still more modest than what was going on in the background, where groins were gyrated against each other, and the first pair of jeans was being removed.
"No, what?" Greg moaned as Maurice continued to knead his groin.
"Look at James and how beefy he looks! Wouldn't you want this to be an all-Arabian orgy, instead?"
"Oh, God, Kit, that's such a hot idea." He looked at the lamp he was still holding in his hands.
"Genie, I wish that everyone here is a piece of Arab beef like you and that we all have some fun together, do you hear me? That includes you!"
This time, James was all too eager to grant the wish. With another "And so shall it be!", blue smoke emanated from his body and enveloped the room.
The changes were way more noticeable this time. Immediately, Greg felt his toned chest expand with each breath he took, but not receding as much as it expanded before. That way, his pecs solidified into two solid slabs of muscular meat, each easily the size of a plate. At the same time, his stomach also grew, but only as much as it needed to accommodate the new amount of muscle mass, forming a six pack and a delicious V-line.
At the same time, the skin covering this magnificent torso darkened into a healthy tan that was further visually darkened by the copious amount of body hair that also grew in, starting from his pecs and leading down his midsection, until it finally disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.
Meanwhile, his back broadened to accommodate his massive, muscular shoulders, and his biceps swelled up in turn. The changes rippled down his arms, making his forearms, biceps and triceps swell until he looked like a bodybuilder.
But Greg was still standing, and his legs needed attention, too. His thighs became thicker, and his calves and shins swelled in turn, making his jeans uncomfortably tight and constricting. Moaning from the ecstasy of change, he fiddled with his jeans buttons until he finally opened them. At the same time, his shoes were torn apart from the swelling feet and fell to the ground, allowing his toes to spread out in all their glory.
Once Greg had managed to peel off his constricting pants and shook off the remains of his shoes, he could see his body changing in almost full glory. The only garment still on his body was his underwear, but that was tented to the breaking point now. His cock was throbbing like mad, coating his underwear with copious amounts of pre-cum, and with each throb, the magnificent manly rod grew even bigger. It was almost as big as James' cock already and wasn't finished yet.
At the same time, the rest of his body was continuing to bulk up. His backside was expanding, with his butt cheeks bulging out and filling the behind of his boxer shorts to the breaking point as well. All over his limbs, dark and curly hair was sprouting, adding an animalistic appeal. Especially his now enormous armpits filled out with hair and sweat, adding to the quickly evolving smell of manly musk and sexual urges in the room.
When Greg looked up, he saw that the same was happening to his other friends. Their bodies were expanding in size, gaining more muscle and more body hair. Their chests were filling out, their nipples becoming hard, dark nubs in the middle of a sea of hair. Before long, the small shop was filled with a group of hairy Arabs, and their combined smell and urges. It was getting harder and harder for Greg to restrain himself. He didn't recognize any of his friends anymore, and the blue smoke was the only thing setting James apart, who was licking his lips now. Even Kit had changed again and was now one of the similar looking but not identical Arabs in the room. His cock throbbed and Greg felt the testosterone surging in him. Fuck this. He *needed* to breed!
He growled and ripped off the underwear, and his cock finally sprang free, bouncing a little before resting, proud and hard, pointing up at the ceiling. It was the biggest and thickest cock Greg had seen in his life, and his balls, swinging below were heavy weight of their own. Still, in this room, the massive tool was about average. Everyone was more than well-endowed, and Greg couldn't wait to sink his cock into one of the beefy asses available or feel one of his friends' rods up his own. The situation grew tenser by the second, and he could already see one of the men make out with James, the genie. That must be Kit! Greg thought and smiled. He'd always been a little slutty.
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Greg was getting impatient, too, though, and the lust and testosterone inside of him was making him lose his mind. He grabbed the nearest Arab and bent him over, exposing a deliciously hairy hole that was just begging to be bred. Greg didn't hold back and immediately plunged his rock hard member into the man, not caring which one of his former friends it was.
Before long, the room was filled with animalistic grunts and moans from men unhinged. Cocks were shoved up asses, and hands were jerking off the men who were lucky enough to be taken. It didn't take long for the first load of cum to spurt onto the carpet, followed by the next and the next. Soon, the air was thick with the smell of Arabian sex, and the sounds of pleasure.
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As he thrust into the tight ass he had claimed, Greg couldn't remember a time when he was more aroused. The ass around his cock felt like it was made to be bred by him, and the sound of balls slapping against butt was the most satisfying thing he ever heard. He didn't know if the guy was still there mentally or not, but it didn't matter. He had an ass, and Greg had a cock, and that was all there was.
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The orgy continued until the morning sun rose above the antiquity shop. Kit was exhausted as he looked around. It wouldn't be long until his grandmother came in, and probably would die from a heart attack. Valuable vases were shattered by the masculine bodies slammed against them, and furniture broken.
James looked spent, too, but content, when Kit cleared his throat.
"Honey, could you do something about this mess?"
James looked over to his lover and smiled as he snapped his finger.
"Of course, my dear. Your wish is my pleasure."
James didn't turn anyone back, of course. Wish is wish, after all. Every single one of them was now a constantly horny Arab for life. It wasn't a bad life, though, especially for Kit. Having a genie for a boyfriend certainly had its perks.
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Thank you so much again! I'm already looking forward to the next special!
Oh, and since some of you asked: Of course, I will only write one sequel, this one here. However, seeing how popular the second place was, I might write another story that is suspiciously similar and in the spirit of "Calling the plumber", too ;-).
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kalims · 11 months
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ㅤhere is my husband
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premise. just us casually staking a claim on our non-official husbands (for coupons)
featuring. all characters
content. alignment, fluff
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ㅤthe flustered over thinkers
one who's unbearably confused because he doesn't recall a marriage taking place to wed the two of you at all, he's a little concerned though. he's sure he'd remember such an event? anything with the two of you is practically unforgettable to the fact that when he's in bed only thing he thinks about is you, and the lingering anticipation that he'll see you again in the morning.
besides this said... eventful morning. where you've both apparently upgraded in relationship without his knowledge he can say that he's struggling to hide his steaming ears, hoping you won't notice if he brings the cup of coffee to his face so the steam seems like it's from there.
confused? flustered? thanks for the input! here's your boyfriend husband. doesn't even ask you to explain even though he's twitching to ask you cause if he knows you then you're almost always up to no good, maybe this is one of your tricks but he won't try just for the thought that you're still 'married.' all marriage related things, even the color white is sending his mind into overwire :)
— | riddle, jack, deuce, azul, epel, silver
ㅤwe love flirts
ah yes, if we've got the flustered, confused husbands we also need to get our resident flirts who just gives you a side glance and plays along like he knows what game you're playing. absolutely no questions at all because you know he's gonna bring up the topic sooner or later with a tease, he just feels like he has to return the fluster you'd admittedly inflicted on him. (which is apparently by proclaiming you're both married now.)
don't be surprised if you're getting private messages online, or just random people coming up to you asking how you're married in... this golden age, was that even legal there? you're not sure but maybe because everyone was kind of casual about it.
doesn't matter whether you say you're just messing with him. oh, you're done? good for you but he isn't. he's calling you his spouse everywhere, a local restaurant, shop, stall. wherever you say, he claims he's just doing what you asked for the coupons but you've got an inkling he's just got a knack for calling you his lawfully wedded partner.
— | trey, cater, jade, rook, lilia, leona (partly), vil
ㅤlegally in denial
we have the awkward ones who partially accept their fates, the flirts who's living purpose is to get a rise of warmth in your face, and we have the legally in denial ones whom are trying so hard to deny everything you do. you guys are dating?! oh my god... you must be being threatened to do this, where's the culprit?! news flash, there isn't any but even when it's so clear they seem to find every single reason to convince themselves that there's something wrong.
like, please accept our love already. you already called them your husband in broad daylight, is that not enough of proof? what do you mean you're probably gonna divorce him... he doesn't mention the fact of you guys never marrying at all, just jumps in divorce...
sometimes you should punch a man for his self esteem, it must be a struggle trying to convince someone you like, that you indeed like them. crazy, right? he can't take this heart stopping gesture he's watched too many times but will gladly arrange a wedding in minecraft. just tell him you guys got married ever since he put his bed next to yours if he asks since when.
— | idia on his own
ㅤairheads who are simps
the classic group of guys, of which they all are just incredibly down bad for the lead who just so happens to be you! <4 in this case they're so in love that they wouldn't even question anything you say even if you mix up murder and a name in the same sentence! if you trip? oh no, no. it's clearly the fault of the ground, not to worry! he'll even get workers to reconstruct the entire thing.
and yes, he's either rich or has enough influence (if not through intimidation.) anyways, if they're mad because of a horrible day just walk in a room and then the dark cloud over their heads just floats away and is replaced by hearts in their eyes.
a prank? oh you're funny. what ever do you mean? you're both clearly married. he's got the papers right here *materializes one.* where did that even come from?! say it once, now you've planted something that won't go away in their heads and it's going to shift to reality one way or another :)
— | kalim, floyd, malleus, rook.
ㅤchill mister tsunderes
takes a deep breath* screeches* yeah that's pretty much it. the people (possibly pertaining to just one person, cause he almost always needs his own category.) who try to refuse your existing even if you just cough. keyword: try because even if you're dating them they're still struggling to wrap their head around the fact that they are dating you so maybe their coping mechanism is just refusing to admit you make their hearts go boom boom??
is completely torn whether to screech again (preferably not in his mind to release that pent up... feeling. some type of fluster that makes him wonder if he should have brought a pillow to yell into.) or just reject what you just said. somehow his mouth just doesn't cooperate and he has to look away from you because he's actually struggling to keep his sanity together.
giving himself pep talk, the fortitude that 'he doesn't like you', trying to rebuild that wall back up again but he learns that he apparently can't take it when you're both referred to a life bounded vow. not as in he despises is, though he believes he is. but rather because he'll probably combust on the spot by the sheer claim being said out loud.
— | main: sebek, leona, ace
ㅤdem smug bastards
the ones who just can't resist to crack a smirk when you casually introduce him as your husband, no wonder you insisted he wore the promise ring you had given him.. just to show him off? consider him impressed! this might be just one of his favorite memento of your shenanigans. either he already knows what you're up do (leona) or he's just enjoying the remnants of your embarrassed face as he plummets you with endless grins and teases (floyd)
he's your husband...? I mean true but you're mainly his spouse :) should you even regret having done anything in the first place for the coupons? don't ever. anything should be done for the discounts, even if your supposed husband starts parading everywhere and uses every opportunity that appears in random conversations or situations to just casually announce your lawfully wedded marriage.
what do you mean you're not married? I mean he's got all the evidence in his phone, you didn't think he'd pass up the opportunity to record you saying that phrase for nothing did you? it's a great moment to remember, especially when it's in the middle of the night and he can't help but pull up that recording just to listen to it on loop like an idiot.
— | leona, floyd, ruggie, jade?, lilia (perhaps, vil (also questionable)
ㅤwho are you talking to rn?
those who look embarrassed but you're betting most on your money that he's just awfully flustered + doesn't like the feeling just guessing from him avoiding your eyes like you're the entity from bird box. does he really think his hood can cover the entirety of his red ears? they're fooling absolutely no one with that fake cough, only thing you heard was the quiet choke when they processed your words.
tries to play it off by 'composing' themselves in front of you, even though their back is turned to you. the straightening of their shoulder usually implies that they think they're ready but you can't help but note that several parts of their body, if not all, collectively flinch at the sight of you. they dont say anything but they give you this... look.
like, narrowed eyes, their jaw is slightly turned away from you, *judges whole existence with a side eye* they can't believe they even have you as a partner but besides that they can't wrap their heads around the fact that such a stupid notion such as that actually had him doing cartwheels inside his head.
— | jamil deserves this, ruggie, jack, azul
ㅤwym didn't we already get married?
YOUR HONOR ITS THIS ONE. you're probably making him more confused than you are. because?? cue confused face. didn't you guys already get married like, a month ago? do you not see the ring on your finger? the matching one on his own finger? did you really not notice anything when he just casually takes you to the most ethereal, sacred place of briar valley and hands you the box containing the ring...? has he done it too subtly? well, he's underestimated humans once again...
to fae culture that was probably the most obvious thing ever. he didn't outright just decide he wanted to marry you, but you've probably done something that borders on a 'let's get married' proposal in his culture so that just prompted him to get to work ASAP, get his workers find the most grandest ring there is in his family heirloom.
if you take it. that just meant you're both FOR LIFERSSSSS. HENCE WHY HES SO CONFUSED WHEN YOU'RE CONFUSED THAT HES ACTING LIKE ITS NORMAL. I mean he's happy that you finally decided to call him his rightful title after a month but why are you so flabbergasted, child of man? what do you mean you're not married? just look at said sacred, ethereal place in briar valley. both your names are engraved there together, that's enough proof isn't it?
— | malleus
bonus <4
ㅤthe actual partner in crime
want to take it up a notch? just call the resident creator of forged documents, this is totally legal and free! just get on his good side and he will remain there forever, unchanging cause he loves you now. unless you somehow wrong him... it's actually very beneficial because he can do nearly anything for you without trouble so... wow you're married? why didn't you invite him :( oh you're not but you want to be? oh that's totally fine!
oh you want his help? he can't go against the law because of his coding system but.. it also says to help friends whenever he can and you're his best friend so :)) *casually prints out paper* don't worry he'll talk to some friends and it will be legal before you know it!
knowing his brother he's probably authorized to break the law so he had to code it himself before he gets too far... anyways congrats on your actual marriage 😊
— | ortho
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note. this is a commissioned piece, do not post this anywhere else
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a-b-riddle · 2 months
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A Simple (Mis) Understanding Chapter Two: Numbness & Pain
Daisy
I always used to think it was an exaggeration of how pregnancy is a constant state of exhaustion. But it was a lot of work growing a tiny human. Add in the fact that I'm still working 40 + hours a week and, of course, something is always causing some sort of discomfort or pain.
Swollen feet, back pain, nausea; I can't even find any solace in sleep. The 32 week mark felt so close, yet still so far. Another eight or so weeks of this seems like a drop in the bucket compared to how far along I am, but still. That still another two months. So far away when you want to be done, but still too short compared to everything I still have yet to do.
Another two months to set up a crib and wash her new clothes. Another two months to figure out a name and make decisions that I always envisioned making with a partner. Another two months of struggling to do things like picking up shit off the floor or staying on my feet long enough to make a decent meal.
But right now, I wasn't worried about the two months ahead of me and all the things I still have to do. Right now, I was looking forward to a three day undisturbed weekend. The pain in my feet and sciatica was becoming so bad, I had taken Friday off to see a doctor and spend the rest of the weekend doing nothing, but sitting in my modest little house and watching mind rotting television. I might even indulge in some spicy reading. Heaven knows its been too long.
Or at least, it hasn't been since them. That day in the office, but... that really didn't count. I often wrestled with myself about it. That one time erased any feelings I had for any of them. But I felt a bit pathetic how it now tainted every good memory I had with them. Kyle bringing me something to snack on when he realized I hadn't gone to the mess hall. Price always having a cup of earl grey tea cooling for me first thing in the morning. Two packs of zero calorie sweetner and a bit of honey.
Sweet like you.
I couldn't stand the smell of it now. I blamed it on the hormones. A lot of things made me queasy, but something about the smell of the bergamot, made me sick in a completely different way. A feeling not of nausea, but of... fear. Like the same way a pentagram could summon demons, earl grey could summon mine. As if John Price was somehow there any time the scent lingered in the air.
But he wasn't. None of them were. Fuck. Why did my thoughts always go back to them at some point? No. This was going to be a relaxing weekend god dammit. Fuck them.
Almost angrily, I hit the garage key fob, shutting the door and engulfing me into darkness; a thin line of light leaking through the bottom of the garage door. When I had opened my door, I could at least see a path to my mudroom. I grabbed my purse, ready to go in, when I felt it.
Hundreds of needles. Stabbing and digging into my feet. Not just the soles, but the entire fucking foot the moment I bared any weight on them. I pulled off my flats and it was then I noticed how angry they looked. Red and swollen and all but screaming at me to sit my fat ass back down. I wiggled my toes, trying to get some blood flow. Fuck. Why didn't they hurt while I was driving?
I manage to get onto my feet, using the car door as support. Steading myself until I was ready to take the first step. By the time I had managed to all but crawl inside, ten minutes had passed since my initial arrival time. I got off at 5:00, but usually didn't log off until almost 6:00. Granted, I work from home, but I had run out of a few essentials. Essentials now that were in the boot of my car.
Fuck.
10 minutes won't hurt. Not like there is any thing frozen. Speaking of which, I forgot my ice cream... dammit. I really need to start keeping a list on the fridge. It's hard to remember when pregnancy brain (or stomach) takes over and I slam a container in a single sitting.
Grabbing a pillow from the couch, I went to the kitchen. Which considering the town house, or terraced housing I suppose now, was perfect for a single and expecting Omega it was cozy. Not like the base where going from the common area to the chow hall was about a three minute stroll.
I get down and lay on my back. Carefully maneuvering so my ass rests against the cabinets before I hook the back of my heels unto the counter top so I could rest my feet a bit. Not the most sanitary, but it wasn't like I had guests. It was just me. For now.
It took a few moments to adjust. My back ached against the hardwood, but I could already feel the relief from my feet and legs. It wasn't all that shocking that I was having a hard time with them. I had gained a considerable amount of weight during my pregnancy. When I had brought it up to the OBGYN about possibly cutting back on food, her suggestion was to simply not weigh myself at home. Now when I went in for a visit they made me turn around before taking my weight.
It was hard. I've always had a problem with how I looked and now adding pregnancy then taking away the option to diet and exercise didn't exactly help.
I pulled out my phone and was preparing to open my kindle app when I saw a tiny red bar in the top right corner of my phone. Of course. I get nice and settled and my phone is on 2 fucking percent. Whatever. I tell Alexa to set an a timer for fifteen minutes and take a little nap. Maybe meditate.
A knock on the door quickly brings any possibility of relaxation to a pause. Margaret next door was dropping off Winnie off early to go to her book club. Margaret was a widow and a recent empty nester. She had spent her life as a mother and a homemaker. When I got custody of Winnie two months ago, she had quickly stepped up in helping me with everything from child rearing to managing my pregnancy.
"Hello, Maggie!" I greeted from the floor. "Hello, Winnie Darling." Winnie had the same sand colored hair as me and bright green eyes. Her face was a shade of red and I could smell her from the entryway. Someone would need a bath today. Fantastic.
"Oh, Dear!" Maggie fussed, setting Winnie down on her feet before coming over to me. "Are you alright?" Winnie didn't bother stopping to hug me like she normally would before making a beeline toward the potty. She usually was a creature of habit, but nature calls I suppose.
"Feet are a bit swollen." I waved off. "Just resting them a bit."
"I don't have to go tonight." She set her bag down. A deep green corduroy shoulder bag that always had just what you needed in it. A wet wipe, hand sanitizer, a spare tissue and even a stain pen when a spill happened at the most inconvenient time. "I'll stay and-"
"Maggie." I said, trying my best to sound at firm, but it was hard with her. No one told Maggie 'no'. "It's alright. Just a bit of water retention. Nothing to fret over." And it wasn't. I could already feel the pain from earlier subside.
"Really, it's no bother." She argued, bending over to unstrap one of her shoes. "It's a bloody stupid book anyway. I just go for the gossip really."
"Maggie." I tried again. "Really."  "It's getting close to the due date and I don't want to burn out on me just yet." It was a lie. Even with her greying hair, a deepened laugh line, Maggie didn't burn out. She was one of the few Omegas I had met in my life and she could run circles around any of them, myself included.
The sound of flushing sounded from the bathroom followed by the faucet. She huffed before slipping her shoe back on. "If you insist."
"I do." I encouraged. As much as I loved having Maggie's help, I hated feeling like a burden. She had raised her children. It was time for her to do things for herself. "Besides, we'll see you tomorrow after my appointment tomorrow." The bathroom door clicked open, revealing my little Win with the front of her smock covered in water. Fantastic.
"Hi, Mommy." Winnie finally greeted. Her freshly washed hands dripping water droplets onto the hardwood. "What are you doing?"
"My feet hurt so I'm just letting them rest." I explained, looking up at her. Winnie was rambunctious as most four-year-olds without a sense of self preservation are, but when I explained to her how careful she had to be now that I had her sister in my belly, her nature had become more gentle.
It worried me as much as it warmed my heart. 
"Why don't you sit on the couch?" She asked. Her head tilting to the side, face etched as if she were trying to figure out my reasoning.
"Because it helps when you lift your feet up high in the sky, Winnie Pooh." Maggie explained before looking back at me. "Well if you're sure-"
"I am. Go." I urged. "We'll see you tomorrow. Lunch around noon?" Spending time with Maggie didn't make me feel like such a parasite when I knew she enjoyed the company. Her children had all moved away, only one staying in the UK. She wasn't so alone, but neither was I.
"Wouldn't miss it." She gave a soft smile. The laugh lines around her face deepening. "See you tomorrow, Dearies." She said, retreating back outside. The soft sound of the door clicking behind her.
Winnie had laid down beside me. Yep. Definitely going to need a bath tonight. "How was school today?" Winnie went to a pre-school that was luckily covered under my insurance. Perks of being an Omega. I'll take it where and when I can.
She talked about going to the playground and painting. All the usual bits. Who she played with and new things she learned. Then came the question. A question she had asked before in passing. A subject I changed with ease before. 'Have you brushed your teeth? How about another episode of Bluey? Put on your trainers (because we can't just say tennis shoes anymore) and we'll go for a walk to the park. I had skirted around the question with ease. 
"Why don't you have a mate if you have a baby?" Winnie was too young to get the answers to a lot of life's difficult questions. Why did Tiffany not like us? Why didn't she get to see her daddy anymore? Why did that man look at you weird on the train, mommy?  I wish she would just stay this little. That she never needed or want to know the harsh truths about me, us.
"I..." I wracked my brain for an answer and just came up short. I couldn't think of a way to sugarcoat it. We almost had a mate. Mates. We almost had a pack that would have walked you to school on the mornings my feet were too sore or I was already running late. They would have loved you. "It... it's complicated, Darling." Is what I chose instead. The other worrisome fact is that Winnie was too young to understand the concept about mates. I had never broached the subject which only means she probably heard it from some little shithead at school. 
Wonderful.
"I'll explain it when you're older." I promise, closing my eyes and letting her snuggle into the crook of my arm. "Do you wanna rest your eyes with me?"
"Like when I'm five?" She asks putting one of her hands underneath my shirt onto my belly. It had become a thing she had started since I told her about the baby.
"Maybe six." I said, looking down at her. She gave a yawn before closing her eyes.
"I think five is better."
"Okay, Win." I said. "When you're five we'll talk about it." It was a promise I hoped she would forget. But I didn't want to negotiate with a four-year-old about something future me could deal with. I wanted just 15 minutes of this. I order Alexa to set a timer to make sure we haven't dozed too far off. Winnie still needed to shower and eat. I still needed to get the groceries out of the car. But I could spare another 15 minutes.
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