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arminsumi · 8 months

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slow down, i'm not going anywhere

g. satoru + fem reader

note : i cooked up something for my man. my yummy lovely bb boy 🥰 just had brainrot for car sex with him. if u want more car sex w gojo then here's this post i made a while back !! anyways i am working on a cult leader suguru fic and it's proving so difficult to write i almost wanna trash it lol✌️

summary — some yummy car sex ft. your overstimmed bf and his pretty muscles

warnings — 🔞 minors don't read/interact, smut / 18+ content, not proofread, car sex, pwp, overstim., nicknames (kitten, baby, slut), creampie + unprotected sex + c*m/creampie visuals, kinda sub gojo but also dom??, delicious dirty talk 🙏

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

... just thinking about gojo's muscles flexing and twitching when he's overstimmed.

his hair is ruffled at the back as it presses into the headrest. the car light would illuminate his features better if it weren't for the steamy haze of sex in the air.

you've got a good view of those tensing abs since his shirt is sloppily split open to reveal them to you. the base of his shirt is getting soaked in your juices. and his breathing is ragged as you ride out another orgasm on his lap. your hand rests on his abdomen, fingers feeling the dips of his muscles as they tense up while. he can feel his thighs shudder under you, dick numb with pleasure to the point where he can't focus on anything else but that feeling you're giving him.

gojo loves it when you admire his body, it makes him feel loved. makes him feel special. fuels his ego till it pops but he's too blissed out and overstimmed to be cocky now.

your eyes and hands roam his pecks. his abs. the contours of his body. the dips n curves. you feel his muscular thighs supporting your heavy bounces.

his physique looks so pretty when it's tensing up, and his face is even prettier — his forehead is beading with sweat, his eyes are lidded so much that you're sure he can't see through them right now, his cheeks are damp and his lips are puffy and red from the erotic, hyper make out session that preceded this even more erotic, hyper lap riding session.

"you always make such a mess of me, baby..." he says in a low, strained voice.

you can hear the effect of so many orgasms in his words, he sounds like he's just exhausted himself at the gym.

"c-can't think straight with those hips on top of mine, haha." he tries to laugh, then hisses when you bounce too fast up and down. he grabs for your curves, moaning, restraining your movements with that exciting strength.

"ahhhh tha-that feels too good, kitten, slow down a bit." he begs lightly.

his cock is so sensitive, and you've got it tightly wrapped up in your gummy walls; he can feel you pulse through every orgasm. feel you shudder each time his cock beats into a sweet spot. it drives him nuts, that milking sensation of your contracting walls, it feels like you're pulling on his soul.

when you whimper weakly against his sweaty forehead, mouth pressing to his skin, "but it feels good..." and roll your hips at a faster pace contrary to his needs, he lets out the most erotic, high-pitched noise you've ever heard a man make.

"sh—iiiit baby! hah... hah... slow down, i'm not going anywhere. w-we've got time, don't needa rush. 'promise i'm not goin' anywhere, not when your pussy feels this good." he struggles to look at you through his lidded eyes. his lashes look so pretty up close, especially in this dim light; there's nothing but abyssal black night outside the car. the radio is turned down low, the squelching sex sounds easily drown out any noise coming through the speakers.

your boyfriend looks so exhausted from cumming inside you three times by now. so you give into his wishes, though it felt good to have his cock beating that deep sweet spot inside of you. slow, swirling rolls of your hips, grinding grinding grinding until he groans and tilts his head off to the side in pure pleasure. the two of you relish that sloppy sound of frothed up cum. it cakes at his base. it feels so delicious that he wishes he could pull his phone out to snap a pic to save into his private little folder titled my baby's designer pussy :)💗

"oh my god... that's it... fuck, feel me there? yeah? feel all that cum, too baby? so fucking nasty... " he groans.

and he moans dramatically. because gojo is such a performer; a real dramatic sex star.

after those hard hits and enduring his sensitivity, slow sensual strokes are just what he needs to tip over. his cock feels raw, pure pleasure pulsing through it like electricity. and you feel raw, too. it almost hurts to squeeze your gummy walls around him. he always stretches you so good, regardless of how tight you are on that day.

"baby... cum with me." he commands, a glimpse of dominance showing in his demeanor after he was acting so docile for so long under your hips.

and getting filled by gojo? it's more delicious than anything.

thick, creamy. his cum smells pungent, it squirts out into your pussy and just spills right out because he fucked your hole too loose, and runs down his cock right along that thumping vein. a sweet fresh load adding to the rest of those nasty, gooey white releases.

he chuckles after cumming, and pants and heaves right against your ear. your bodies are just melted together, sticky and sweaty. he likes feeling as if he's glued to your body.

he notices you digging your nails into his biceps for stability, feeling a rush at the sensation. "y-you're so pretty when you cum and shake for me..." he murmurs against your cheek, nose grazing your skin. he means that. you really are so pretty. and not like the textbook definition; but like an otherworldly goddess.

and you act as kind as one, treating him not as if he's a god but like he's just your precious baby boy. he loves that. he needs it. that comforting voice calms him down after cumming so hard in your pussy, and that soothing hand on his cheek gives him shivers of happiness.

"fuck... 'needa... pull it out... hnnn..." it's always funny when he pulls out with a — pop — and you see him wince at the slight overstim. his cockhead always gets a fright when squeezing out of that tight entrance.

"how the hell am i gonna drive home with all this cum over my pants haha... you made a fucking mess on my dick, baby. look at all that cream..." he laughs, looking down between the two of you. both of your clothes are soaked right through. the windows are steamed up.

"sorry..." you mumble with a small smile, feeling a bit drunk off the pleasure that the two of you shared these past two hours in his car.

your eyes glaze over his chest; it's pretty when it's heaving heavy like that. with sweat running down the middle dip of his abs. and the sheen of your juice smeared on his v-line. snowy white pubes creeping up cutely to make a happy trail.

"you're so pretty, satoru." you murmur admiringly, voice shaky after such a long session in his car.

his heart flutters. but his response is cheeky, masking how shy he truly felt at such a tender compliment. "oh yeah? 'well if you think i'm pretty you should see my girlfriend. she's hot as hell."

you roll your eyes and get off his lap. he frowns then laughs, "aw no, i thought you were gonna straddle me while i drive home..." and he'd started the engine, you felt the rumble in your thighs. it's funny, a hunk of muscle like him sitting in a muscle car.

"i'm pretty sure that's a safety hazard..." you chuckle lowly.

he rolls his eyes and nods. "yeah yeah. mmm baby wait. come here, let me kiss you — thanks for riding me so good. you fuck me up like no one else, you know. 'n in my car too... heh... scandalous lil' slut."

he pecks your lips, the savory taste and lip-locking sound pleases his senses.

and the poor man. he has to drive home with cum-soaked pants. but it's worth it. the next time he sits in his car to go somewhere, he smiles when he finds your lacy panties still tangled around the gear shift. seeing them makes his mind race with the memory of this night and how hard you rolled those hips against him. it gets him bricked up, yes, and he maybe has to jerk himself off in his car before actually driving otherwise he'll be heading down the highway with a boner sticking up in his face.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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voxisdaddy · 27 days

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İ have a request, how would hazbin hotel and angels (or archangels) reacts to a coqquette girl demon?

İf you dont know what iş coquette is, here some ideas

Coquette Sins

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

C/TW: Sexual themes, swearing, some way longer than others, a lot of these are based off appearance sorry, made reader a sinner rather than demon since demon is very vague in the hellaverse lol, not proofread

In which how various Hazbin Hotel characters + Striker react to a demon who brings a fresh aesthetic to hell-aka, a coquette sinner!

Alastor

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I can't say you'd be very intriguing to Alastor based off this aesthetic if I'm completely honest. He frequents Cannibal Town a lot-which while not coquette at all-the colour palette are closely similar and blends in together. Your look being more romantic and innocent looking in comparison however at a longer glance. So you wouldn't per say stand out at first glance, but even when he notices he isn't exactly intrigues. Hell is filled with many people who can look however they want, whatever way they want after all. So at first you're just another one of these poor sinners in this forever inferno. Somehow once you do get to know one another though, he picks up on certain mannerisms and certain things you like. One of the first being when he saw a little plushie you had purchased one day, now decorated with a neat little bow that matches with pretty much everything of you. From then on, he's sure that when he gifts you things, to keep an eye out for more specific things. It clashes with his aesthetic, but it's okay. Slowly he'll start to change your wardrobe to match his.

Lucifer

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer doesn't think very highly of sinners, typical for the sin of Pride, but you're something new to him. He's well aware that human souls come in many different forms and that anyone can present themselves anyway they want, but coquette was a rare one. Anyone who resembled innocence, sweet romantics, and softness was often the target of bullying and harassment in hell-which serves him all the more reason to roll his eyes and dismiss a lot of sinners. Meeting you was a blessing in his eyes. Regardless of whatever judgements you may face you seemed to never stray away from who you are. He's become protective of you because of this. I mean he's protective of you regardless, you're very special to him after all, but you're basically a walking target for unnecessary bullying. Whenever he gifts you rubber duckies and carving of ducklings, he makes sure they are painted and decorated to fit in with your room. Because of your aesthetic by the way, you can match for date nights-which he loves very much!

Husk

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Husk wouldn't find you that intriguing either. He's been in hell for a very long time, seen lots of folk looking very different from one another. Nothing new. I think the longer he knows you though, the more he starts to question things. Nothing bad per say. It's more so because he starts to grow a crush on you and just now finds you more interesting. He'd definitely gift you things that match with your whole look. Especially plushies because come on, who doesn't like a good plushie.

Angel Dust

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Loves your look and aesthetic. It's like you're a different version of him-visually at least. You almost go hand in hand together in a sense. I can imagine two different first impressions of you based on appearance and just getting to know your personality on a very base level. One; he thinks you're one of Charlie's goody two shoes who don't know how to have fun but know how to ruin the fun of others. And two; if you're a dude here, someone he can have fun flirting with because don't you look like an inexperienced doll faced angel~

Sir Pentious

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I think your contracting aesthetics is lowkey a recipe for a cute af looking couple not gonna lie. Sir Pentious would probably be very adoring of you. Don't you look so darling! I feel like out of the main cast, he's been in hell the longest and has definitley seen your type of look before-especially when he was alive. You kind of remind him of those porcelain dolls that would be on the front of store windows. It's probably the leading factor as to why he adores you and treats you as if you're made of porcelain. Even if you're a baddie, yoiu're his baddie-who's also his sweetheart darling.

Charlie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Charlie loves your aesthetic and how you carry yourself. It feels like such a breath of fresh air in this hellscape she calls home. She's definitely the type to ask what your hobbies are and if she can tag along to whatever it is. Now she'd never change herself to please anyone ever but she would likely, just for fun, dress up and match with you sometimes. Oh but please return the favour every once and awhile! It would make her so happy!

Vaggie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vaggie as we know is from Heaven, so your type of look isn't new to her per say but it in a sense it does surprise her. This is hell, most people are usually clad in reds, pinks, and black. So your more, dare I say angelic, appearance is a mild surprise to her. She quickly gets over it though ass even in heaven the angels all didn't look like angels sometimes. Sure theirs halos and the feathery wings, but some peoples appearance mirrored some of the folk in hell. Vaggies own appearance and aesthetic clashing with heaven back in her angel days too. So she gets over her initial surprise. You're almost...nostalgic to her in a sense. She's definitely soft with you.

Cherri Bomb

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You're both like polar opposites honestly. She at first has her reservations on you. Based on appearance and personality actually. She understands that this is hell and that everyone can look however they want and some just fall looking a certain way. However this hoe likes to fight, thrives in the night life, high party girl energy, and being that bitch. So you'd naturally clash but after some time, especially in a relationship with you, she wouldn't wish for you to change yourself at all. As even Cherri Bomb needs some relaxing down time every now and then. So going to you and your relaxing and romantic sweet nature is almost spa like to her.

Rosie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Like Alastor, you wouldn't stick out much to her at first glance because she sees people like you in Cannibal Towne at like every turn. She's wise though, she knows theirs a lot more to you and that you even find a way to stick our visually-intentionally or not. Your romantic look is just darling to her! She has to meet you! And once you do, to say this woman is smitten is an understatement. During a gossip session with Alastor, she definitely mentions you. You're the pearl of her eye. Even as your bond deepens, her smitten ways with you don't fade one bit. Probably has a few garments specifically catered to you with her own Rosie taste. She loves to match, so she'll hope you'll agree to meet her in the middle somewhere.

Carmilla

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ She likes to think you're a romanticized version of her. You're...not exactly that but it's close enough. You're a breath of fresh air for her honestly. Being an overlord and especially of her status, she tends to get migraines a lot. So seeing you and your more romantic soft look is already easing her a bit. She'd love to dance with you sometimes honestly. A nice slow dance with fun twirls, perhaps a music box or old record player even, as you unwind together sweetly. If it's alright with you, she'd love to fashion you with some angelic ballerina inspired shoes. Matching is cliche to her, but I headcanon she's lowkey a sucker for that stuff. Plus, it would be great for you to protect yourself with if worse comes to worse.

Vox

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You're an interesting one to him-especially since no one looks like you on his side of the Pentagram City. It excites him in a certain way-now get your head out of the gutter. It's a power thing. You look quite easy to manipulate, frail, weak, obedient-you could be a mindless doll. Getting you under contract would be easy, he tells himself. Of course, falling for you is the last thing he thought would come from this. But when that happens, you're no longer some doll he thinks he can control into being another one of his little workers. He can easily find out what type of music you listen to, what you like to do, furniture you may like, little shop items you always keep an eye out for, ect., He loves coming back home to you, or even when you visit him in his office. He's a stressed out guy with a lot on his plate. You're more soothing to him than you think.

Valentino

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino being Valentino thought you were quite the delectable thing. It's as if you're begging to be ruined, honestly. He's of course quick to try to coerce you into at the very least having sex with him. He's charming, he knows how to use that and be sweet into getting people to trust him. Say you guys are in a romantic relationship though. You somehow managed to take this monsters heart, he's surprisingly not as rough with you vs if you were some one and done bitch he had instead. You look like too much of an angel for him to wanna break so soon. He's still rough and loves it when its rough, but I mean, what do you expect? It's Valentino. He definitely gets you lingerie that match your look. Loves either seeing you wringle in it beneath him or degrading him while you're on top. Believe it or not it's not all about sex with this guy though when it comes to you. When he's in one of his tantrum moods, you're like his own personal angel to give him a hug til he calms down enough to go do something else more level headed.

Velvette

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ She admires your dedication to your aesthetic, but I can't say she likes it very much. It's cute and with the correct look it can look quite fashionable, but she of course has her own standards and strong preferences. I can imagine that when you move in together, she has a love hate relationship with your guys shared massive walk in closet. One half screams Velvette, and the other half screams you. It's satisfying to see the difference in aesthetics, but also annoying because of the obvious clash. She puts up with it though. It's not all bad, seeing as sometimes you two trade outfits. Not often cuz again this woman is very of her own preferences and makes the effort to maintain her aesthetic as often as possible. It does happen though, as sometimes something from your closet catches her eye and she'll either borrow it or design something inspired based off it.

Adam

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam first saw you when you went to visit Heaven with Charlie and Vaggie. He at first didn't even know you were with them. You looked like you belonged in Heaven, he had thought you were an angel tagging along with their running around with Emily. He didn't immediately catch onto the lack of halo and feathered wings but that's besides the point. He actually probably went to bother you several hours before the trial. He didn't like any of the sinner souls or demons, but damn it-why do hell get a lot of the hot bitches? I mean yeah everyone in heaven is hot, but maybe he just has a thing for demon bitches, he doesn't know. Plus, it would probably be a good time to grill you and maybe tease you. What? Are you a wannabe angel? Is that why you look like that and came to argue for that hotel?

Lute

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lute does not give a fuck because hello~you're a sinner. She first noticed you during an extermination. She had thought you were an angel actually, because of how you looked. She was initially startled and angry because why the hell would of the extermination angels just be out of uniform in a time like this? But she was very quick to catch onto the fact that you are not one of them so she moved to kill you. Ah but little miss angel wannabe, her words, is more vigilant than she thought. You don't get killed this extermination so when the angels are called back to return to Heaven, she glances back at the last place she saw you run into for shelter. She smirks to herself; you got lucky this year, angel wannabe. She almost wishes you see you again next year.

Emily

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Emily would notice you with this Angel Dust character when they viewed Angel's night out during the trial in Heaven. You seemed to be friends with this group. Even though the focus wasn't on you, she found herself hoping to see you appear through the heavenly lens more frequently. You looked so adorable! Internally she nicknamed you Hell's Angel. She must remain professional and focus on the trial at hand though, which she very much does. She still wishes to get one more glimpse of you once the move on from viewing Angel Dust's night out though. Even when the trial ends, after she deals with the harsh reality she didn't now about, she hopes that Charlie's dreams come true for a chance to properly meet you in Heaven.

Saint Peter

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This angel met you when you came up to the gates with Lucifer's daughter and her friend. When he realized who Charlie is and where this trio just came from, a part of himself silently wondered about you. You looked so...heavenly. You're really only visiting from Hell? Ha ha m-maybe theirs been some sort of mistake. You look like you belong up in heaven. Oh well. Eventually he get's to actually talk with you of course. It's not long but it's something. He almost feels foolish for thinking Hell wouldn't have sinners and demons who have certain aesthetics and preferences. Heaven has those things, why wouldn't hell have it? Maybe hell isn't the shitty eternal hellfire he and many other winners believed it out to be. I like to think that Peter when he's not wearing his robes, has a pastel filled wardrobe. Real soft boy energy. So if you ever get redeemed or can somehow be together, bc this man was whipped almost immediately, you'd match pretty well together.

BONUS!!

Striker

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You intrigued Striker a little bit at first glance. With a raised brow he watched as you smiled sweetly at him and waved before continuing on your way. He doesn't like interacting with the sinners much but he knows enough about them that you being you makes you a target for bullying and harassment. He naturally keeps his distance regardless and doesn't think of you again until he actually sees you again. By the time you end up dating, many compromises need to be made. First of all, sinners can't leave the Pride ring so he can't bring you home to the wrath ring. So he often makes trips to the pride ring to visit you, at some point your home becomes his home before either of you realize it. It kinda makes him feel off-he stands out like a sore thumb in your place. But he tries to not get you place dirty and tries to make sure he's not totally bloody when he shows up.

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK OVER A WHOLE MONTH LOVLEY STAR! I had no idea how to write about various characters reacting to a coquette!sinner!Reader without having so much overlap and I just evbsfvhsbk-

Here it is, finally TvT sorry for taking forever. Thank you for your patience!

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indouloureux · 2 years

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i’ve never seen any works or blurbs about drunk or high eddie :(( he’d be so clingy and worked up mghhfhdhdfff begging you to take care of the rock hard boner he just popped in the middle of the party

shkshsks okay okay

18+ mdni — handjob bc drunk eddie (consented but reader is still wary since, yknow, he's drunk), minimal sex talk lol, slight mommy kink bc eddie only says "mama" twice, cum eating

"babe,"

drawled vowels said into a drunken slur, eddie slumps his entire body on your back. you yelp, drink almost spilling on your shirt, turning around to see his face all crimson from the alcohol and hair all slick from the heat between the bodies of horny teens. you place the cup aside, taking his face into your hands.

"eddie," you yell a little, lifting his head up. "what happened, baby?"

"look," he takes your hand off his head, shoving it down his crotch. your face widens, cheeks flaring because he's basically letting you fondle him in public. eddie's pressing your palm right on the bulge on his trousers, his gaze on yours half-lidded and glossy. "i've got a boner."

"i can feel it," you snort. "want some help? you're drunk, eddie."

"i consent!" he shouts. "i always consent to you. sober eddie says yes. drunk eddie," his voice lowers, leaning to whisper in your ear. "always says yes."

you take his hand. "alright. but it's gonna be quick honey, okay?"

you know he doesn't care, especially when all he does is grumble as a smirk comes up to his face, stumbling between the suffocating crowd as you pull him to the nearest (and vacant) bathroom nearby.

the door closes loudly, music muffled and your ears relaxing from the blaring sounds of tone-deaf people. eddie rests his hip on the sink, watching you lock the door before you rest your back to the wall beside him.

"alright, eds," you straighten your back, shaking your hands. "pants off."

eddie giggles. "yes ma'am,"

you watch as he fumbles with the handcuffs on his belt, his hands swatting yours away when you try to help. and when he's done, he's pulling it down until it's pooled around his ankles, and he's spared himself the painful tightness when eddie brought his briefs with his jeans on the ground.

the swollen mushroom tip of his cock slaps on his clothed stomach, a bit of precum staining his shirt. you feel your mouth water, his shaft all veiny and hard, and eddie's smirking at your stupefied reaction.

"go crazy, mama," he juts his hips.

you do. with a quick lick to your palm, your hand wrapping around from the bottom of his base until it swipes up to gyrate around his head. eddie grunts, loud, but still unheard from the party outside. "fuck, eddie. what's got you so hard?"

eddie reaches his arms out to pull you close to him, hands squeezing your ass as he throws his head back to the cupboard mirror. "this ass." he growls. "you know i'm always horny, honey."

his chuckle swiftly turns into a moan when your hand moves fast, the slick sounds of your saliva and his precum echoing around the small bathroom. there's a hot pool between your legs, clit throbbing at the way his veins press against the heating flesh of your palm as your other hand comes to fondle with the heavy sack beneath, balls full of cum.

"god, if you weren't drunk right now, would've given you a blowie," you bite your lip, thumb swiping over the slit on his helmet. "maybe you could have fucked me from behind too."

"but i consent!"

you squeeze his shaft, making him whimper. "and you're drunk. 'drunk eddie' gets a handjob." you move your hand faster, smirking when he keeps on letting out low gasps and grunts. "don't tell me what to do, alright,"

"alright, babe," his eyes roll to the back of his head, and you can see how red the tip of his cock's turning. you twist and fuck fist into his length. "fuck. i'm close, mama. ngh— i'm gonna cum!"

you don't stop until white ropes of cum shoot out to his shirt, some to yours and most of it onto your hand. eddie mewls as it spurts out, hand unstopping until nothing comes out and all you've left to do is lick the cum off your hand.

eddie moans quietly when you take each finger into your mouth, sucking longer when you're cleaning your thumb. needy, he pries your hands away and kisses you, his tongue right in your open mouth.

alcohol, weed, and pizza (you think), mingling with the taste of his cum on your tongue. eddie sighs against you, nose deep beside yours as he cups your face into his mouth, drinking you like you've got what he needs inside his mouth.

he breaks away, panting, chuckling softly. "think i just got sober, honey."

eddie wraps his arm around you, the other massaging your waist as you reach behind to pull on the tissue paper and wipe your shirts. "still not giving you a blowjob, babe," you wipe on his shirt, him pressing a kiss to your temple. "now help me remove this, please? you've got jizz all over you."

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #blurb #joseph quinn #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction

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slut4thebroken · 4 months

Text

Doctor’s Orders

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader

Summary | Jonathan Crane wears a weak dose of fear toxin as cologne to his appointments just to put his patients on edge. He’s particularly fond of how you react to it though.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, manipulation, inappropriate use of fear toxin, obvi, very dubious consent, painful sex, fearplay, HEAVY breeding kink, forced breeding, technically housewife kink?, overstimulation, abuse of power?, ionno lol.

Words | 3.3 k

Notes | Based on this post. Credit to @lasagnebats for the idea. (Lowkey the plot kind of deviated from the whole fear cologne thing tbh but it’s still very relevant so whatever lmao)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

It’s not mentioned in the actual story but it’s very important for the plot so incase you didn’t read the summary I’m going to say it again lol. He wears a weak dose of fear toxin as his cologne.

“How are you feeling today?” He asked as he walked in and sat down across from you, putting his briefcase at his feet.

“Better.” You said with a small smile. After only a moment though, your heart started beating harder and faster, and your breathing picked up. You swallowed thickly and cleared your throat before adding, “I- I think.”

“You think?” His voice sent a shiver through your body. You weren’t sure if he was purposely trying to sound threatening, but that’s how you heard it.

“I…” You couldn’t look at him as your stomach started churning.

“Please look at me when I'm talking to you.” He sighed, making your gaze snap back to him. “We won’t get anywhere if you continue to overreact to even the simplest questions.”

“I know— I know. I’m sorry.” You started bouncing your leg incessantly, trying to get rid of some of the nerves you were feeling. “H-how are you?” You asked in return to his original question.

“Always so polite.” He said with an amused smile. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know… That’s just how I was raised I guess.” You shrugged, not having a better answer for him.

“It has nothing to do with how terrified you are of upsetting me?” He asked curiously, tilting his head as he looked you up and down.

“I- I’m not…” You cleared your throat and wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I was just… taught to respect people with more authority than me.” You said nervously. But it was true. You were always taught to show respect to people above you no matter what, especially if they were older than you.

“I see. And you feel I have power over you right now?”

“Yes.” You said quietly. Doesn’t he always?

“Well I don’t want you to fear me. These sessions are pointless if you can’t be completely open and honest with me.” You looked away from him again and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I promise you, nothing you say will upset me. I just want you to be truthful with me… So I can help you to the best of my ability. Do you understand?”

“Yes..”

“Good.” He paused, seemingly coming up with the next topic of conversation. “You’re still having nightmares?” Your blood ran cold and your heart was almost starting to hurt with how hard it was beating. And all just because of a reminder of it.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“The same ones? Or something different.”

“The same… But I noticed that they tend to happen more after our sessions than on days where I don’t see you…”

“Yes, that’d make sense. Since we talk about it, it’s only natural your brain would be thinking about it more.”

“Right. Yeah— You’re right.” You said through a breath.

“May I see your hand?” He suddenly asked, making you stiffen.

“What?”

“Your hand.” He held out his own, waiting for you to place yours on top. With a shaky breath, you wiped your hand on your pants again, then placed it on his open palm. He turned it over so your palm was against his, then let out a quiet hum. Before you could ask what that meant, he grabbed your wrist and held your hand up, watching it tremble. He released you and you placed it back in your lap.

“Why are you so scared?”

“It… it's probably just because I started thinking about the nightmares.” That was the only explanation that made sense. It’s not like you’d be scared for no reason.

“Really? What were you thinking about?” You froze and looked away from him, trying to recall, but you never actually thought about them, more so just… remembered them.

“I… I’m not sure.” You said absentmindedly, still trying to figure it out. He sighed quietly and took off his glasses, examining you closely.

“I like to think that we’ve grown a bit closer since our first session. Wouldn’t you?” All you could do was nod wordlessly. “Almost like we’re more than just doctor and patient… Do you feel that way as well?”

“I- I think so.” You said quietly. It was hard to tell right now.

“Which is why I think we can try something that might work better for you.” He stood up and dragged his chair around the table, the loud screeching sound making you flinch. He sat down next to you and you waited nervously for what was next.

“I think… if your brain is half focused on something else— something pleasurable…” he placed his hand on your thigh and leaned closer to you, “then you might be able to talk freely about what’s troubling you. What do you think?” Your chest was heaving as you stared at him with wide eyes, not able to respond. It felt like your throat was closing up and the speed at which your heart was beating made it feel like his hand was on your chest instead of your thigh, pushing down as hard as he could.

“Is something wrong?” He asked once he noticed your reaction.

“I-” You choked out, not able to say anything else.

“Hm?” He waited, giving you a chance to respond. When you didn’t, he sighed. “As your doctor, if you’re in a state that leaves you unable to think or communicate clearly, it is my responsibility to do what I think is best.” His hand started snaking up your thigh, moving toward the center as it climbed higher. His touch was burning a trail on your skin and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Just relax. You want to actually make some progress, don’t you?” You gave him the tiniest nod, unable to do anything else. “Good girl. If you can control your emotions, then we can talk like civilized people, but for now, we’re going to have to try this.” You weren't even sure what exactly was making you feel this way, but you trusted Dr. Crane. He would only do what’s best for you.

“Take off your pants.” He suddenly ordered, making your body go completely rigid. “I won’t repeat myself.” He warned and you immediately scrambled to take them off. Once they were on the floor, he grabbed your hips and guided you so that you were straddling his thighs, sitting on his lap. “Now, this might be a bit overwhelming for you, so I don’t mind if you need to keep your face buried against my chest or neck. Like this,” he gently grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into him, “see?”

“Thank you.” You whispered, bringing your hands up the grab at his suit jacket. It felt like your entire body was trembling now. “Dr. Crane, I- I don’t feel very good.”

“Shh. Your body’s just excited. That’s why your heart is racing and your breathing is shallow.” He explained calmly. You’ve never felt this ‘excited’ before in your life. “Are you going to let me do my job now?” You nodded, burying your face into the crook of his neck to comfort yourself. “Thank you.” His hands started dragging up and down your thighs, just getting you used to his touch, but all it was doing was making you more anxious. His fingertips felt like claws on your hypersensitive body, but when you looked down, you saw no marks left behind.

“I know you’re excited but you need to try and calm down.” He said calmly. “Take a deep breath through your nose, then out through your mouth.” You complied, though it wasn’t nearly as slow as he actually wanted. But it was an improvement. “Again. Deeper.” You inhaled again, trying to let the smell and warmth of his body soothe you. But it was like the deep breaths were making everything worse.

“Dr. Crane, it’s not— I…” He sighed and your stomach churned when you realized he was disappointed in you. “No- I’m sorry. I’ll try again. I’ll keep trying.” You rushed out, taking more deep breaths.

“That’s a good girl. Nice and slow.” His hands snaked up your thighs to your hips, then up the sides of your body, under your shirt.

“W-what are you doing?” You choked out, when he dragged his hands up even more until he was touching your breasts.

“Just feeling your heartbeat.” He explained. You gasped when he gently squeezed your breasts, groping them in a way that made your entire body feel hot.

“Dr. Crane?” You whimpered and he shushed you. So you clung to his suit jacket and buried your face into the crook of his neck even more, seeking comfort.

“I’ll need to remove your shirt. It’s obstructing my examination.” You hesitantly agreed and he pulled it over your head, then guided you back into the same position, now only in a pair of panties. “Deep breaths.” He reminded you as he continued. He only groped you for a few seconds before focusing his attention on your nipples. You let out a strangled moan when he gently pinched, rolling them between his fingers. You’ve never been overly sensitive there before, but right now, just the barest touch sent a shock through your body.

“Your heart is racing.” He commented, flattening his hands on your chest and sliding them down your stomach. He reached your hips and gripped them tightly, then pulled them forward to grind your clothed heat on his bulge. You gasped at the sudden movement and when you felt the obvious sign of his arousal.

“When’s the last time you’ve been fucked?” His tone remained the same; clinical, unemotional. It took you a moment to register his question, but once you did, a blush took over your face. “You’ve been a patient here for a few months now so I’m assuming at least a few months ago?” All the work you did to calm your breathing was gone in an instant. Words couldn’t form in your mouth, so you just nodded against his chest. “How long before that?”

“I… I don’t remember.” You choked out, finally able to speak.

“Poor thing. It’s been that long since you’ve been filled?” He cooed with faux sympathy.

“Dr. Crane.” You sobbed, fisting his suit even tighter to ground yourself. He was still guiding your hips and you started to feel arousal pooling in your stomach.

“Is that why you’re not making any progress? Your cunt’s been craving a cock so bad, you can’t even think?” You whined and started moving your hips on your own now, desperate for more. “Yeah I think that is the reason. You’re in your prime child bearing years, it’s only natural you’d be longing to breed.” You let out a strangled moan, feeling both humiliated and aroused by his words. “A few more sessions like this and you might actually be able to use that pretty little head of yours again.”

“Please,” You whined, tears of desperation brimming in your eyes. Your heart was still pounding and your breathing was still shallow, but it started feeling different. Before, you weren’t sure what the cause was, but now you know it’s arousal. At least it mostly is. He suddenly gripped your chin and pulled your head so your face was only inches from his. As his eyes trailed all over your face, taking you in, he hummed in thought, still staring at you with his piercing gaze.

“Misattribution of arousal truly is a fascinating subject.” He smiled. You had no idea what that meant. “Take off your underwear.” He suddenly ordered, making your eyes widen. When he stared at you, giving you a warning gaze, you scrambled off his lap to remove them. He started unbuckling his belt, then opening his pants. When he took out his cock, your breath caught in your throat. Where is that supposed to fit?

“Sit.” You tentatively got on his lap again. He sat back in the metal chair a little, dragging his eyes down your body. “Put it in.” You swallowed and looked between his face and his length, feeling your heart start pounding even harder. “Now.” Biting your trembling lip, you grabbed his cock and put it at the right angle, then slowly and apprehensively lowered yourself onto it. You whimpered when he first breached your opening, immediately feeling the burn of the stretch.

“You won’t like it if I have to take over so I suggest you do better than this.” He warned and you whined in response, but forced yourself down lower.

“It hurts, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered, hoping for sympathy from the cold, apathetic doctor.

“Enough.” He growled, grabbing your hips and lifting you off of him. He stood and spun you around to push your torso onto the cold metal table with a hand on the back of your neck. Holding you down firmly, he pushed his cock back in, this time going all the way. You cried out and scrambled for purchase on the table as he immediately started thrusting.

“W-wait, Dr. Crane..” You choked out, the burning stretch bringing tears to your eyes. Not bothering with replying, he removed the hand from your neck and you heard clothes rustling, then he was putting his tie between your lips and wrapping it around your head to secure it. Almost instantly those feelings flared up again. Your chest heaved as you panted, trying to ignore how much it was hurting from your heart beating so fast and hard.

He put his hand on your head this time, forcing your cheek onto the cold metal as he held you down and started moving faster. You sobbed out a moan and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on calming down but everything was just so much.

“Is this what you needed? Have you been playing the role of the dumb little patient this whole time just to get me to fuck you?” You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move it under his hand. “I can feel you pulsing around my cock. Is it really that good?” The way he was mocking you had you squeezing your thighs together, but he couldn’t have that. He lifted one of your legs and placed it on the table, keeping you from getting any real stimulation on your clit besides his balls smacking against it with every thrust.

“Please!” You cried, the word being muffled by the tie.

“I know. You’re probably so eager to come right now, aren’t you?” You did your best to nod, despite him holding you down. “Is the thought of finally getting bred making you all needy?” He asked condescendingly and you let out a strangled whimper. “Should I let you come on my cock?”

“Yes!” You yelled, trying to make it sound coherent through the gag. He released your head and grabbed your shoulders, starting a brutal pace that made you almost scream from the intensity. The table was screeching against the floor with each thrust and you could start to hear his quiet grunts as he neared his orgasm.

“Go ahead then. Show me how needy this pathetic little cunt is for my cock.” He said and, despite the degrading words, you almost cried in relief. You’ve only made yourself come maybe a handful of times since being admitted to Arkham, so it did not take much longer for you to get there. You all but screamed around the gag when it hit you, making your legs turn to jelly. His thrusts didn’t even waiver, but you could hear groans coming from him. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through you, so intense that it bordered on painful.

When it was finally done, you sagged into the table, but your body immediately went stiff when the overstimulation kicked in. You cried out and squirmed, trying to escape it, so he grabbed your hair and yanked you up, wrapping his other arm around your stomach.

“I know.” He pulled your head back until it was resting on his shoulder, then turned it so your face was up against his neck. “Just breathe through it.” But you couldn’t. Everything was just too much. You sobbed loudly and buried your face in the crook of his neck as he fucked you, moving both hands down to grab your hips.

“Just be a good girl and take it. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked and bred like a bitch in heat.” You let out a strangled sob at the degrading words. “No… It’s what you needed.” He growled, making you whimper. “Don’t worry, we’re going to keep doing this until I finally fuck a baby into you. Maybe then you’ll be less cock hungry. But we’ll probably have to keep this up while you’re pregnant because of all the hormones.” After your orgasm, everything your body was going through started to feel like it was from fear again, rather than arousal. His words were making you spiral into overthinking. You can’t have a baby yet— you’re too young. And also there’s the fact that you’re in an asylum…

“And I think… I might make you my little lab rat. You respond so well to such a small dose, I’m eager to see how you’ll react to something more potent.” Now you were truly confused, but you were also too fucked out and overstimulated to try and understand. “God— that’ll be a fucking sight.” He choked out, rutting into you more frantically. Tears started streaming down your cheeks as he kept fucking you, getting more painful with every thrust. But based on the way his sounds kept getting louder, you knew it’d be over any second now.

You cried out when he roughly snapped his hips into you and stayed there, wrapping his arms around your torso to keep you close and letting out a low groan. His hips bucked forward with every spurt of come that left his cock, despite the fact that he was already completely inside, pressed up against your cervix uncomfortably. Even after his orgasm ended, he remained buried inside you, keeping you plugged up for now.

“That’s better, isn’t it? Now you’re nice and full.” He spoke softly, turning his head to kiss your neck as his hand rubbed over your lower stomach. “Mm… I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round— your tits swollen with milk. You’re going to look so beautiful.” Even though everything calmed down, you still felt anxious and scared. “And I’m sure once that kid is out, you’ll go back to being a brainless little bitch in heat so I’ll have to fuck another one into you.” You let out a weak sound, unable to do anything else. Your whole body was shaking. With how you were currently feeling, his words sounded like a threat.

“Still can’t use that pretty head?” He asked curiously. You didn’t answer, but it didn’t seem like he expected you to. “You must need more, then.” You whined at the thought. He gently pushed your torso back onto the table and you hissed in pain when he dragged his cock out. When his come trickled out, he cursed under his breath. Using his thumbs, he spread your puffy, abused folds, giving him a better view of your gaping hole. You flinched when he used his fingers to scoop up his come and push it back in. “Lucky for you, I cleared the rest of my schedule today just for this session, so I can keep giving you load after load until you drain my balls completely. Maybe then you’ll actually be able to fucking think.”

Taglist (join here)

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#jonathan crane x reader smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #arkham asylum #patient!reader

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carlyraejepsans · 11 months

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Rate UT characters on likely they are to eat spoiled food

premise: as monster food does not spoil, this speculation is based on how i think they'd treat human food in the post pacifist ending

frisk. trash burger. enough said. (also i hc that they grew up on the streets, so... not a lot of chances to be picky with your food.)

sans. second most likely. there's milk in the fridge bought specifically for him to drink out of the carton whenever frisk's or papyrus' friends come to visit, like a stereotypical disney channel older brother (he loves being annoying on purpose). it's been there for a month. he's still not done with it. it's probably rancid. enjoyer of food and lover of even shittier food. mr worst burger on the menu. he is ESPECIALLY gross about food and he is gross about it on purpose, he will peel an apple for papyrus and then take a bite out of it before cutting him a slice. and then call him a wuss when he acts disgusted. ("stop being a baby bones, we have the same germs anyway" "NO WE DON'T. *YOU* HAVE GERMS! AND I DON'T WANT ANY OF THEM!!" "why? they're pedigreed" "OUGH!?!!"). he mostly uses it as a chance to make a gag (or a lack of gagging, lol) but his strong stomach did also come in handy in the early days of papyrus' interest in cooking

mettaton, of sequins-and-glue hamburgers fame. he's technically tied for 2nd place with sans, but i put him in third because i feel like sans does it on purpose, for mettaton it's more like... a side effect of starting life off as a ghost. few people question it since he's a robot now.

alphys. she doesn't go out of her way to do it, but she buys her snacks in industrial pallet-fuls to reduce social interactions to a minimum, so by the time she reaches the last 3 or 4 packets of blue takis, they're well past their expiration date. not that it stops her. now, this wouldn't happen on the surface because she gets better and has a solid support system, but if monster food could spoil back when she was going Through it with the amalgamates, i feel like she'd either be too depressed or tired to care and eat it, or she'd tumble into a "g-god. you can't even take care of your own f-food. is there anything you can't fuck up" self-deprecation spiral and lose her appetite altogether

flowey. did it to see what would happen. nothing did. never did it again. tbh I just don't think he eats much of anything, spoiled or not.

undyne. getting into the "wouldn't eat spoiled food" tier. she actually thinks it's really gross but papyrus tricks her into doing it by challenging her machismo. she gets SO sick from it. they do this aprox 3 times a month. rinse and repeat

asgore. he's a gardener, and i can see him working in a community garden on the surface, so he'd have access to a lot of fresh produce, for both himself and to give away. however, if some of it were to go bad, he'd probably cut off the affected bit and eat the rest so it doesn't go to waste.

toriel. she is SUPER careful about expiration dates and mold and checks to make sure all she owns is still safe to eat almost weekly. this level of care, however, is mostly meant for other people, not herself, but she would really rather not eat anything that's gone bad. same reasoning as alphys', IF monster food could spoil when she was still in the RUINs, i could technically see her biting the bullet, if only because 1) she was also heavily depressed and struggling to take care of herself, though i think she might sooner skip out on the meal altogether, rather than eat something spoiled, and 2) the awkward stares from the other monsters in the RUINs supermarket might not be something she's willing to deal with on any given day.

papyrus. he would NOT. no way. master of cleaning, germophobe extraordinaire papyrus (well, not really, but he plays the part). if toriel is meticulous, papyrus is obsessive. there better not be a SINGLE spot on his food. and no lines or plaid patterns either!! he WILL wash it untill it goes away. with soap probably. canonically a picky eater to begin with (his picks are just weird as balls). can should and WILL get on sans' ass about his unhealthy eating habits, and that includes eating food that's gone bad.

#answered asks #undertale #sans #papyrus #toriel #frisk #alphys #undyne #asgore #mettaton #hey look the whole gang is here!

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yanderambling · 1 year

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Ahhh love your writing!! Can we get something for yan!ruler and their willing darling who's also their knight? Reader is pining towards their totally sweet and kind ruler and when the ball comes they're very sad cause now their Highness will dance with some noble and ofc fall in love and reader have never had a chance with the royalty anyway :((

But they didn't know those concerns were in vain🙂🙂

i'm so happy to hear that! and what a wonderful idea, thanks so much for sending it!! i may have taken it in a slightly different direction, but i hope you enjoy <3

concept: Submissive Monarch!Yandere(gn) x Pining Knight!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.1k

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, slight manipulation, this one's actually p tame lol

You hadn't been working for Aschanti very long when they promoted you to their personal guard.

You were honored by the trust your noble ruler had in you, and you still work tirelessly to ensure that trust was not misplaced; the last thing you'd want to do is disappoint your dear sovereign.

Aschanti is a righteous and just power, they're clever and virtuous and surprisingly kind, to boot. You admire them immensely, and you're grateful every day for the privilege of being in their royal majesty's presence while you keep them safe and secure.

You couldn't be happier to be by your ruler's side all the time now.

Well... almost all the time.

You struggle at times like these, these high-class social gatherings where you have to watch them dazzle and charm (more so than usual), where they play nice and rub shoulders with the elites.

It just makes the divide between you two so much more prominent in your mind; you feel terribly out of place as a working hand among all these elegant nobles- and watching half of them squabble for Aschanti's attention is just the icing on the bitter cake.

They could have anyone they want, any of those beautiful scions that look so natural in all their fineries, that move with unfaltering grace and poise, that hold high status and social connections.

Why would they ever choose you?

You were meant for the sidelines, a lowborn made to stand in the shadows and keep your divine ruler safe while they live out their life before you.

You’ve known this for ages, and remind yourself often. But, unfortunately, this knowledge cannot seem to stop you from dreaming.

If only you stood a chance with them…

•

Aschanti has desired you since the first day you reported for duty.

You were so earnest, so absolute in your dedication to the crown, to them. And they could tell, they've seen countless knights pull the "happy hardworking hero" act to get in their good graces, but not you. You were real. You truly just wanted to protect them, to pledge your life to their rule, to defend their body and name alike based on only your ideals and instinct (you seem to rely on those for most decisions, and you’re very often right).

They put you on their personal guard almost immediately (which is lodged within the castle, naturally), terrified now at the idea of being so far from you after having been blessed by your glorious presence.

They always feel so comforted when they see your silhouette standing in their periphery, they lose their breath when they watch you scrutinize new persons for potential threats, their chest sets alight when they hear you shifting outside their bedroom door on your night guard (how they long for you to just come in one night and sweep them away...).

You make them feel safe, down in their very bones, until their head gets fuzzy and they just want to collapse into you and let you move and manipulate them however you desire.

They want nothing more than to be with you, to let you protect and take care of them forever, to let you have them, utterly and completely.

But they could never lay themself bare like that, especially not in front of you.

How disgraceful, for a monarch to want such perverted things from their guard, to yearn to be dominated by their own knight. They can't begin to imagine what the world might think- the council, their allies, the social elite- but that's absolutely nothing compared to their fears about you.

God, they wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye if you knew what they thought every time they see your muscles flex while you train, or when you place a gentle hand on the shoulder before walking ahead, or when your eyes get that thrilling, stony look when you focus on a task- they would cede their entire empire for you to look at them like that for just a minute while they knelt at your feet.

But then you would never look at them the same. You'd never respect them again. You’d likely be so disgusted that you would resign, and then where would they be?

They’d have to detain you somehow, of course, make up a collusion or the like; they know they would simply waste away in your absence, so leaving is just not an option.

But then still, you would never again gaze at them with those sparkling, idolizing eyes. You would never again toss them that encouraging grin that near blinds them every time they see it. You would never again see them as the honorable ruler you've looked up to since the beginning.

You would never love them.

No, it’s too risky.

At least they can still be with you like this, choking on their desire to melt into you at any given moment, desperately trying to maintain the illusion of respectability when all they can think about is your fingers around their throat.

It gets especially hard during the balls and what all; how can they even pretend to care about any of these highborn frivolities when you're standing mere feet away, watching them with those sharp, intoxicating eyes?

Funnily enough, you’re also the only thing that gets them through these circus acts.

Aschanti is always subtly watching you during these social events; they’ve perfected the art of staring as soon as your gaze shifts and looking away right before they're caught, it's kind of thrilling.

They entertain petty conversation as they recall the water that dripped down your neck when you chugged it after training yesterday, they laugh at bland jokes and picture your enchanting smile, they allow the occasional noble’s heir to place a flirtatious hand on their shoulder and imagine it’s your calloused fingers stroking their collar (they notice how you stiffen at the sight, how your lips purse and your hand tightens around your staff- it makes their blood pound just thinking you might be… oh, god, jealous over them. Maybe they lean into it a little, just to see your gaze harden. Oh, to think of all the ways you could punish them for their impertinence!)

It's still incredibly difficult for them, though.

They yearn for you every waking second.

They curse the inches between you when you stand in your place at their shoulder, they bask in the heat of your hand when you place it on their back to guide them, they imagine falling into your reassuring arms at the end of the day and try their best not to lose their composure each time.

Being with you is such sweet torture, one that they could never relinquish, because being without you would be closer akin to death.

If only you knew what they'd have you do to them...

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #dom reader #knight reader #yandere king #yandere queen #gn yandere #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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exo-raskreia · 6 months

Text

Thoughts & Speculations On Utahime In The Shinjuku Showdown Arc

WARNING: MANGA SPOILERS & HIGH LEVELS OF COPIUM

There are theories going around about Gojo's potential revival & subsequent defeat of Sukuna. Several are interesting & seemingly possible. However, I've hardly seen any involving Utahime & her potential role in all this. While I shouldn't be hoping for anything in this manga 😩, I couldn't help but get some ideas.

With some of the theories out there, I wouldn't want Gojo to sacrifice part of his power in order to come back. But who knows at this rate...? Would Gege let him come back even more powerful? Or only temporarily before losing all, half, or some of his power? I don't want him to lose an eye or something like that... 😮‍💨

Once he returns, what will be the next step to defeat Sukuna? Gojo may get a new power-up or even has something else up his sleeve that he hasn't revealed yet.

This is why I wonder if Utahime could still have a role to play in this arc. She's the only character involved who hasn't gotten a flashback yet with, or in regards to, Gojo. She hasn't even spoken a word! Does this mean anything? Is Gege withholding something important? Will it come into play at all?

She's barely had any screen/panel time & was absent for 3 arcs spanning several chapters since Shibuya. Gege finally revealed her CT for the biggest fight of Gojo's life against the King of Curses. She helped Gojo achieve 200% Hollow Purple along with Gakuganji, while Ijichi hid them from Sukuna's view with a barrier.

They really come in a set, don't they? Every one of her appearances is related to Gojo. She is bound to him. So you see, we may next see her whenever Gojo is about to, or has already, returned.

Neither her, Gakuganji or Ijichi have reappeared since.

It's been 20+ chapters now & we know nothing of their status. Is this the last time we'll see them, especially Utahime, in action? Do they still have another role to play? They have not been shown to be back with the others at HQ, which implies they're still out on the battlefield.

What have they been doing all this time? Watching the fight unfold? Is it just taking them a while to head back to HQ? Or could it be that they're potentially doing something important?

Chapter 244 showcased a flashback scene with the other characters having a meeting before the fight regarding the possibilities of Gojo's defeat. Neither GojoHime, Gakuganji or Ijichi were seemingly present.

Unless the two people behind Shoko here could be either of them? The one in black could be Gojo & next to him is Utahime, or could it be Gakuganji?

If not, this could imply they were doing planning of their own, maybe in a separate room. That planning is the key.

Clearly, GojoHime (& maybe Gakuganji) must've practiced the Hollow Purple throughout the weeks-long timeskip since Gojo's unsealing. But is that all they did? Is there something else that they planned? The fact they're not back at HQ could imply this. It almost seems deliberate that there's no involvement of them with the others... unless Gege really doesn't care.

Gojo told Sukuna at the beginning of their fight that he did some "special training."

What could this special training be? It hasn't been brought up again. Did it involve Utahime & maybe Gakuganji? This further showcases that Gojo's role isn't over yet.

Now, there are theories that Shoko may heal Gojo with her RCT. If so, could Uta help by buffing her to make it quicker & more effective?

We know so little about Uta's CT. Gege stated singing is a big part of it (unless it's just the chanting?). Could it be used for healing (kinda like Rapunzel from Tangled, lol)? What about offensive abilities? How else would she be a Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer if she can't fight on her own? Is it possible, though? We know she has good reflexes based on her encounter with Haruta at the Goodwill Event. Maybe she's good at hand-to-hand combat & wielding weapons? Heck, can she weaponize her voice like a siren?

When Uta buffs someone, does her cursed energy cover them like a blanket? Does it feel a certain way? Is it visible to other sorcerers or does it become one with the buffed person's own CE so that it's undetectable?

If her CE is visible, wouldn't Sukuna (especially as powerful as he is) have sensed it enmeshed with Gojo's? Instead, he thought Gojo's initial HP was a lot stronger than usual due to a Binding Vow (which we know Gojo didn't make) in chapter 234.

Since Ijichi made a barrier that hid him & the others from view, Sukuna doesn't know about them. If he couldn't sense Uta's CE, that could also mean she might not have been buffing Gojo after the HP. How long is her full range anyway?

Speaking of Ijichi, Gojo told him he had a monumental task in chapter 222 before the timeskip.

As then shown in a flashback in 223, it seems it was just to put up the barrier to hide them, Uta & Gakuganji from Sukuna.

Does this mean that Gojo planned their team-up that early after he got unsealed? 🤔 The flashback here has Gojo in casual wear & the place looks similar to the inside of the Tokyo Tower. Could this mean they were headed to Shibuya Sky, the top of the tower, to practice or simply strategize, & maybe meet up with Uta & Gakuganji?

Still, why did Gojo place such importance to this task? Was it just to establish the trust he has for Ijichi despite his antics?

Was it to keep Utahime safe? Not just about the barrier?

So, I've been having these questions for a while now. Here's where my delulu really kicks in.

Absolute insanity mode. You've been WARNED.

There are theories discrediting the fact Sukuna doesn't know about Uta's CT, that it's NOT why he thinks Gojo made a Binding Vow to achieve 200% HP. I know I'm crazy, but I think him not knowing could come into play.

Other than potentially helping Shoko heal Gojo, could Utahime have a hand in bringing him back? Maybe she could even buff Gojo's own RCT, in the case it's still activated (since Gojo's head's still intact). If Gojo is meant to be truly enlightened upon his return, almost like a god, then wouldn't Uta being a shrine maiden mean something? Shrine maidens dance for the gods, communicate with them, summon them.

DELULU THEORY 1:

This scene in chapter 222 made me wonder if Ino told Gojo about him witnessing the summoning of a dead person (which we know is Toji) in Shibuya, as there's been no follow-up to it yet...

If it's about Toji, did Gojo get the idea that in the case of him "dying", then his soul could be summoned back into his body? And with no side effects as it's his own body, and/or that as long as it's done immediately upon "death"? Is this something that could have been researched?

Since Ino knows a form of necromancy, could he possibly have a role to play in this as well? With his help, could Uta along with Gakuganji do a similar ritual as the granny who summoned Toji in Shibuya?

If Uta sings or chants for the ritual, could Gojo hear her in the limbo & follow her voice or something? Could she guide him north towards enlightenment, make him remember (or realize) who he is & what he has to do, in the case he's temporarily forgotten? 🫢 (delulu, I know, I KNOW 😩)

There's a song called North Wing by Akina Nakamori, the artist who sang Kinku, which is the song that Uta's CT is based on. It was her 7th single released the year after Kinku (7?! A number associated with Gojo?!). It was then re-recorded years later on an album titled 'Utahime Double Decade' (Akina is nicknamed Utahime, meaning Diva in Japan). The lyrics talk about a woman who boards a plane to meet with her lover. Here's an excerpt:

Love Is The Mystery It calls me Love is a mystery With its mysterious power I’m an Airplane, throwing everything away Like a scene out of a movie North Wing I depart all alone tonight For where he is Someone I once gave up on Teardrops, my heart’s punctuation I watch the city lights from above As they get smaller and smaller I take a midnight flight, chasing the night through the fog As if I were wandering through a dream Love Is The Mystery I spread my wings And cross the shining seas. I’m a little nervous The date paints over yesterday Which was nothing but agonizing for you The foggy city you live in Awaits me beneath the clouds

Let's see. If we see it in Uta's POV, then she might've thought loving Gojo was not worth it (as loving someone like him wouldn't be easy), but something happened that changed her mind, maybe before/during the time-skip, or seeing his "death." She could be headed to meet him, meaning to help him? It says at midnight, so could Gojo be revived the following day on Christmas? It mentions yesterday was agonizing for him, meaning his "death" & the fact of whose body/vessel he's fighting?

What if we low-key see it in Gojo's POV? His love for his students (and Utahime?) will make him choose North to return to them. He'll leave his past behind, making peace with it, & depart all alone, as the others in the limbo are going South. He knows everyone must be sad over his "death" (the 'agonizing' part) but he's coming home.

There is also a sequel song to this called Dramatic Airport - North Wing Part II. The lyrics are about a (the same?) woman on her way to meet up with her man at the airport, reuniting with him at night. So, could we see it as Utahime heading towards Gojo to help him, to be there for him on his 2nd awakening?

(There's this amazing theory here, which talks about the possibility of Utahime helping Gojo reach true enlightenment like Buddha's wife did for him in Buddhist myths.)

DELULU THEORY 2:

If Gojo returns through some other means, then that gives us another possibility. He's the only one who knows the location of Sukuna's last finger. What if Gojo had told its location to Utahime & co. (maybe even Ino)? What if their absence in the flashbacks of everyone else making plans is because they were retrieving the finger? And what would they do with it, you ask?

Could it be they had planned & are currently making the preparations for a ritual like the one I mentioned, in which they'll summon Sukuna into another vessel by using the finger? Or simply give it to someone to swallow? And could that vessel possibly be Yuuji, as he's the only one who can really handle harboring Sukuna?

It's scary to think of what this could mean, though... 😥 I will not delve into that.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Anyway, I know I'm fully delulu & may be burning the kitchen, but I just wanted to get this out there. The theories and speculations are rampant these days so might as well add some more to the bunch.

I know for Utahime, a literal side character, to have a major role in the most important fight of Gojo's life, is too much to hope for. Gege also doesn't have a good streak with giving importance to his female characters (except Maki). Then again...no one expected Utahime, after a long absence, to finally reappear with Gojo the chapter after he got unsealed & having her CT finally revealed for him against Sukuna. Just what is Gege trying to say?

Whatever the outcome, I still have so many questions...

What was Utahime even doing during her long absence since Shibuya? As the main teacher of Kyoto, & all these crazy things happening to her students, not a single peep from her?! Was she training?! Put under protection because of her CT or cuz Gojo would have their heads if something happened to her? Buffing people secretly somehow?

How did she end up teaming up with Gojo? Did he ask for her help, like when he did to investigate the traitor? What did he say? Did he finally fess up & tell her what she means to him? Gakuganji & Ijichi got their flashbacks, Gojo showing them his true feelings/thoughts, so what could this mean for Utahime?! That he trusts her too? That he doesn't find her weak? Did he apologize for his constant teasing? Could he have said something more?

Did she offer to help him? Did he refuse & Uta insisted, giving a sort of speech that shut him up?

Just what happened between Gojo & Utahime during the time-skip?! 😫 Is the fact we haven't been shown yet deliberate?!

I wonder if Gege will ever give us this much, at least... 😮‍💨

While I'd like for her to do more, I just hope Uta will be safe. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her like nearly every other female character in this manga... 😥

LET'S HOPE FOR GOJO'S REVIVAL ✊️

#gojohime #iori utahime #gojo satoru #gojo and utahime #jjk spoilers #jjk theory #sorry if these don't make much sense 😅#reiapost

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wrongplacerighttime · 7 months

Text

Hi!! This is my first fic that I’m posting. I wrote it loosely based on this love by taylor. I write for my own enjoyment usually but this is my first time sharing my work!! I hope you enjoy it <3

word count: 7.5k (got carried away lol)

tw: smut MDNI!!, hints at dom harry, fluff, angst, drinking, kind of feelings of regret, mentions of a cheating partner.…i think that’s it but lemme know if i missed any :’)

This Love Left A Permanent Mark

This was a terrible idea.

My inner monologue has been repeating the phrase through my head like a mantra from the moment I walked through the glass doors of the club.

In hindsight, I don’t know why I didn’t think this sooner. Why did I think coming to my ex-boyfriend's album release party was a good idea? In what world would that ever be a good idea? Especially the way we ended things. I mentally note to never let Ginny talk me into something like this ever again, even if she is dating a member of his team. I recall the conversation we had about it a mere four days before this moment.

“It’ll be fun! And he’ll be busy talking to people all night anyway. He won’t even know you’re there, probably.” she insisted

“I don’t know, Gin. I really don’t want to crash his night.” I mumble, twiddling with the menu on the table in front of me.

“You need to get out of the house. All you do is sit and read your books and play your guitar. It makes me sad and depressed.” her nose crinkles in displeasure.

“What’s wrong with that?” I shoot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing, I guess.” She shrugs. “I just think you deserve to have a good night. I won’t tell Joe you’re coming so he doesn’t mention it to Harry. You can just hang around and mingle and drink and dance with me.” She reaches over the table and takes my hand in hers. “Please. We haven’t had a night out in so long.” she gives me a pouty lip and I roll my eyes.

“We could go out any other night.” I point out and she sighs loudly.

“True…but this would be perfect. You don’t have to pay for any drinks or deal with sleazy guys at the bar. Just industry people doing industry people things and listening to the album at a big party.”

I contemplate her request. What’s there to lose? I weigh the options in my head for a moment. If I don’t go, she’s right, and I’ll just sit in my room all night flipping through the same romcoms and sitcoms that I’ve already watched 3 times over. I’ve been doing fine for a few months now. I’ve been going on dates again, and meeting new guys. On the other hand, no one will ever be him and I have no idea how I’ll react if I do end up seeing him…or if he sees me. But, there will be so many people there, he’ll be mingling, and he probably won’t see me, right?

“Fine. But if he sees me, I’m bolting. .” I mutter and she squeals in excitement.

Now here I am, sitting at the bar alone in the same spot for the past 45 minutes. Ginny is nowhere to be found, and I’m in an uncomfortable dress that’s too short for my typical comfort zone and the sequins are making me itchy. I twirl the straw around in my drink and sigh, holding my head in my hand.

On the plus side, I’ve avoided him for most of the night. The first time I spotted him was when he was walking into the club, making his grand entrance. I was hiding behind Ginny and he didn’t see me. But when I saw him my heart skipped. He’s wearing a cream colored suit, that looks almost a baby pink color if it’s in the right light, with a white tank top underneath that shows off his toned chest along with the two swallows tattooed on his tanned skin, and his cross necklace hanging from his neck. He’s got a pair of glasses with orange colored lenses perched on his head also. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I was on his arm right now.

This was a terrible idea.

It’s been over a year since I saw him last. I don’t even know what he’s writing about in his music because I avoid every single thing about him. Arguably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do because he’s everywhere right now. If I see his name in the news, I don’t read the article. If he’s on the TV, I change the channel. I scroll past anything I see that his name associated with it. I learned my lesson the hard way in the beginning. I purposely searched his name in the weeks following our tumultuous end, and saw so many pictures of him with other women…and every time I saw him with them, the picture of him that I saw that night comes to my brain. So I stopped putting myself through that misery.

I hear a loud noise like someone patting a microphone. I turn my head to see Harry standing at the front of the room on a small stage. He’s looking out to the crowd of people who are now mostly turned to face him. He looks my way for a moment, and I feel my breath catching in my throat, but then he skips over me and continues skimming the crowd, and I let go of the breath I was holding.

“Hello, I’m Harry.” His deep voice sounds so smooth in the microphone and my stomach churns. It’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice.

“We know!” Someone yells back to him and the room erupts in laughter, making Harry chuckle into the microphone. So many thoughts are going through my head while I stare across the room at him, like the last time I heard him laugh like that. I turn back to face my drink so I don’t have to look at him. How good he looks.

“I just wanted to say thank you all for coming. It really means the world to me that I get to celebrate the release of my third album with all of you. I wouldn’t be here, in this moment, if it weren’t for every single one of you. All of you have played such an important role in making me the artist that I am. So thank you.” I sneak a peek at him from the corner of my eye. He brings his hand up to place over his heart in an endearing gesture. “Now, let’s get this show on the road and listen to it, shall we?” He says cheekily and the crowd sounds off with applause and cheers. The speakers in the room begin to play the tune of the first song and he walks off the stage making his way around the crowd of people, stopping to shake hands and chat with some of them.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and flinch in surprise, only to whip my head around and see Ginny hopping up into the seat next to me. I shoot her a look that shows I’m not happy with her and she tilts her head. The song changes and the next song is just as upbeat as the first.

“What? What’s wrong?” She questions and I roll my eyes.

“I’ve been sitting here alone for 45 minutes. You left me. You said you wouldn’t.” I pout, looking back down at my half-empty drink.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Joe wanted to introduce me to some people and then I lost track of time. I won’t leave again. I’m yours for the night. Promise.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders and squeezes me into her and I smirk. She orders a drink and I turn to face the crowd again. I don’t see Harry anywhere, and I feel the tension I was holding in my shoulders release a fraction.

We sit for a while, drinking and chatting amongst ourselves and other people who come to the bar while they’re waiting for their drinks to be made. They mostly talk to Ginny and ask how things with Joe are going, while I just listen and add little bits to the conversation here and there. I’m turned to face her at the same moment the 5th song ends and turns to a slower one, not as upbeat as the others. And they’re all so good. His talent really shining through in all of these words he’s written.

The chatter dies down a little, everyone taking in the beginning of the song before it picks back up again. Some people are swaying to the music and others are standing in groups. While looking through the crowd I spot some of Harry’s famous friends and when one of them makes eye contact and waves at me, I wave back. I feel a little stab in my chest, thinking back to a time Harry and I would be over there talking to them together. We would talk about how their projects are going and their plans for the future. Harry would always have his arm draped over my shoulder, pulling me closer to his side and kissing the top of my head. I sigh and continue to look around the room, looking for anyone else I might know, but then I spot him.

He’s sitting in a large curved booth with three others. He’s leaned over listening to one of them speak. I watch as his jaw clenches, and a small piece of hair falls down over his forehead. His eyes crinkle the way I always remember when he smiles and I can feel my breath leave my chest, just looking at him like this stole it away. His hand comes up to push his hair back off of his forehead while he nods and I catch the rings adorned on all of his fingers. One of them in particular catches my eye though.

The lion ring.

I gave him the ring as a gift for our anniversary a few years ago. He used to wear it every time he performed, but I didn’t realize he still wore it. You would if you’d ever pay attention to him, my conscience informs me and I swallow the thick lump in my throat. Ginny taps me on the shoulder once, pausing before tapping again, I turn my head towards her, but my gaze was still on the ring on his finger. My eyes work my way back up to his face before I tear them away, admiring his features for another moment. His beautiful green eyes…but when I turn to look at Ginny, I have to do a double take back to him.

Wait.

His eyes?

After a single second my brain catches up and registers that he’s looking at me. He opened his mouth once, then closed it again, his brow furrowed and shaking his head. I see the confusion laced through his expression, and I’m cursing myself, but I can’t look away.

“Fuck.” I manage to squeak out, and Ginny follows my gaze over to Harry.

“Oh shit. Laine, don’t—” she starts to say something but stops when he’s holding up his hand to whoever is speaking to him, signaling for them to give him a moment, and his eyes never leave mine.

“Laine?” I saw him mouth my name. A sight I’ve memorized ten times over. My breathing, my heart, and my mind all stop. Everything stops. It felt like the entire world stopped turning.

Within two seconds he’s standing, pushing his way through groups of people towards me. As he stands, I’m running for the door. I don’t look back. I just keep moving forward through the groups of people, pushing myself through…in the same sense that I have been for 19 months now. Running away and never looking back.

“Run away like you have from everything else.” The words that have infiltrated every single thought in my head for the past 19 months.

This was a terrible idea.

I’m pushing to the door, the air suddenly thick with dread that clouds my mind. I can’t breathe and it’s suddenly so hot. The room around me blurs and I can’t see where I am because there are tears clouding my vision. I’m blinking fast to clear them and all I hear are the last words he ever said to me, and then I feel the familiarity of his touch, and the flashback of the fight comes so quickly that it hits me like a freight train. Coming to the forefront so easily after I’ve tried so hard to just forget.

“Laine! Stop. Please, you don’t have to do this.” His voice drops an octave on the last few words, desperate for me to stay, and I knew I couldn’t.

“No, H. I can’t. This isn’t working. I can’t keep sitting here waiting for you to care about this, about us, when you’re photographed necking a girl at a bar. I sit here looking like a damn fool, waiting for you to love me.” My voice trembles and I shove him away from me.

“It wasn’t even what it looked like! You’re being irrational.” He throws his hands up in the air.

“Me? Irrational? Don’t. We’re falling apart. You’ve been growing so distant. Every time you go out you’re photographed with some other girl…and this time you’re all over her? I know we haven’t been the best lately but this is too much. You’ve gone too far.” I argue back, throwing things into a bag.

“You should know the paps twist everything. Please let me explain!” He’s practically yelling now, and I turn back to face him, rage clouding my mind.

“You cannot explain away this one Harry. All I wanted was for you to look at me the way you look at them. You used to. I used to be the only one you looked at.” My voice trembles, the tears threatening to spill. “It’s time to stop lying to ourselves, this was over a long time ago.” I snap at him with a shake of my head. He looks at me, defeated.

“Fine, Laine. Just go. Run away from this like you have everything else in your life. You’re so predictable.” He shoots back and I visibly flinch, I never thought he would use my past against me.

“You don’t get to say those things to me after doing this. This is your fault. I’m done. It’s over. Go call your new girl, I’m sure she’s waiting for you.” I grit through my teeth. I don’t let him say anything else before I walk out the door, leaving the only place I've ever called home behind.

“Let go of me!” I yell, trying to catch my breath and gasping for air. Trying to push and pull my way out of the grip on my arm. I know it’s him. I’d know the feeling of his hands anywhere. My eyes are squeezed shut.

“Hey! Laine, calm down. Look at me.” He shakes me slightly trying to get me to come back down to earth. I feel his hands let go of my arms and he grabs my face. “Please. Look at me.” I shake my head.

“I can’t. Because if I open my eyes and you’re really standing there and it’s not a dream, I will pass out.” I say quickly, so quickly that my words run together and I’m not sure he even understood what I said. But what am I so afraid of? It’s just Harry. But then again, my mind is replaying his words from that night over and over again. Run away like you have from everything else.

“If you do, I’m right here. I’ll catch you.” His voice is deep and he speaks slowly. His hands are still holding my face. I don’t respond, my lips pressed together in a thin line. My heart is beating out of my chest.

“What are you doing here Laine?” He asks, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“I-,” I stop myself, realizing I have no good explanation, to collect my thoughts. I realize that my eyes are still tightly closed, and I probably look ridiculous. But now that he’s here and the entire world hasn’t imploded yet, I’m beginning to come back down to earth. I realize I don’t hear the music, I don’t hear anyone else talking, and my back is against a cool concrete wall. I open my eyes slowly, and I’m outside, and he’s there. Right there in front of me, not a dream, not a figment of my imagination. His eyes are so green, his jaw is sharp with little bits of stubble beginning to grow. His lips are full and pink, and they look so, so kissable. His hair is perfectly wavy sitting on top of his head, and he’s just close. Closer than he’s been in so many months. I turn my head, looking away from him and down the alley. I take a shaky breath.

“Ginny invited me. I don’t think she told Joe I was coming. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I-I didn’t think…” My gaze travels back to his, and he’s smirking.

“Didn’t think what? That you’d run into me at my own album party?” He asks.

“In hindsight it was not the smartest decision.” I mutter and look down at the ground. I can’t look at him. If I look at him again I’ll want to kiss him and I can’t do that, not anymore. “I think I’m just gonna go home.” I add and look back up at him through my lashes.

“Don’t. Stay. I’m sorry that I scared you. I just haven’t seen you in so long, it caught me off guard. I didn’t know if it was really you sitting there or if my mind was playing tricks on me again.” He rubs his hands down my arms, stopping at my wrists and going back up again, keeping me warm in the cool night air.

“Again?” My brow furrows.

“Yeah. Again. See you everywhere I turn, have since…” He trails off, then shakes his head slightly. “Please, come back in…I’m sorry that I startled you.”

“I need to anyway. I ran out and left all of my stuff with Ginny.” I wrap my arms around my torso to try and shield myself from the cold. He moves out of my way and stands beside me. We walk back inside in awkward silence, and this feels like some terrible kind of walk of shame. He holds the door for me and I mumble a thank you. Someone catches his attention when we walk into the main area so he stops to talk to them and I take that as my cue to walk away before it’s even more awkward. I make my way back over to the bar and Ginny is still in her seat. Her eyes widen at me as she sips through her straw.

“Oh my god. Are you okay? I didn’t know what to do. I saw him coming this and then you were running and then he ran after you and I just froze. I’m sorry. Should I have come to save you?” she rambles on and I shake my head.

“It’s fine. I think I just overreacted. I haven’t seen him in so long and when I saw him coming towards me I panicked. Nothing bad happened.” I sigh and run my hands over my face. My mind wanders, thinking about what he said. He said he sees me everywhere, and he has since the night I left. I didn’t think he even wanted anything else to do with me. Thinking about what he said pulls at my heartstrings and I’m confused…I decide I don’t want to feel this way.

I order a drink from the bartender.

Then another.

And before I know it, another hour has gone by, and I’m drunk and on the dance floor laughing with Ginny. I have a drink in one hand and the other above my head, holding onto Ginny’s and swaying our hips together. I’ve not felt this way in a long time. I feel on top of the world, like I’m floating. She leans into me and whispers something in my ear but I don’t quite catch it. I turn towards her with a confused look on my face.

She gestures her head across the room and my gaze travels that direction. I look to find Harry, sitting in the same booth as before. He’s leaned back with one leg crossed so his ankle is resting on his knee. He’s got a drink in his hand, bringing it up to his mouth with a smirk on his face. Smirking at me.

“He’s been watching you for, like, the past 10 minutes. I know because I counted.” Ginny slurs in my ear and I look at her with an eyebrow raised.

“You counted?” I repeated back, skeptical. I don’t think I could even count to 20 right now.

“Um, yeah. It was for like two and a half songs that’s pretty much the same as 10 minutes right?” Her words run together and I turn my head to look at him again over my shoulder. A woman is sitting next to him, trying to get his attention and he’s nodding to whatever she’s saying, but his eyes are still on me.

I don’t really think my brain can comprehend why he’s staring at me in this moment. So I keep dancing with Ginny, and then eventually with other people too. I end up dancing with one of his friends that came up to talk to me, his arm around my shoulder and jumping around, singing the words to a popular song we’ve all heard repeatedly on the radio. I don’t remember when it happened because all my thoughts are running together and Ginny just keeps handing me drinks, and I’m so grateful for that. Grateful that he doesn’t come over to me. But why was he grinning at me like that?

Another hour goes by, I’m standing at a table talking to someone I’ve never met before, but Ginny knows them. Another one of Joe’s clients he manages, I think. I don’t really remember. I’m sipping my drink through a straw, slightly swaying to the music and listening to one of the women at the table speak when I feel hands on my waist, pulling me away from the table. I stumble backwards, feeling my back collide with a strong chest. I turn my head to see that Harry is the one pulling me away. His eyes are dilated and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He grabs my hand, pulling me into the shadows of the club where no one can see us. He leans down and I can feel his breath on my ear.

“You look so tempting. It’s not fair.” He cups his hand around my cheek, running his fingers down my jaw line then holding my chin between his thumb and finger. He tilts my head up so my eyes meet his. He reaches up, running his thumb over my mouth, pulling my lip as he drags it down. He breathes a heavy sigh through his nose. Bravely, and not in the right state of mind, I gently bite his thumb between my teeth, closing my lips around it and sucking lightly. He chuckles and shakes his head. He just looks so good.

“You’re killing me.” He groans and drops his forehead to meet mine. “All I want right now is you and I can’t have you.”

“Who says you can’t?” I whisper back to him, looking up at him through my lashes, and our faces are so close. So close all I can see are his eyes. He grins and leans in, leaving a small kiss on my neck under my ear, and I feel tingling where his lips touch. I can smell his cologne. I would recognize it anywhere. He grabs my hand and leads me through the crowds of people towards the back door.

“My place or yours?” He asks, his eyes peeking at me over his shoulder.

“Yours.” I answer back without hesitation.

He opens the door and I feel the cold air biting my skin, instantly making my body shiver. We’re walking fast towards his car, his hand still wrapped around mine and pulling me along behind him. He walks me around to the passenger side of his car and opens the door for me. I slide into the seat and my teeth are chattering, when he comes to the drivers side he takes his jacket off and hands it to me over the center console.

We drive to his apartment in silence, his jacket shrugged over my shoulders. The air is filled with tension, both sexual and nervous. I don’t want to speak because I don’t know what to say. He grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles, making my heart flutter in my chest. Like he always used to. I don’t pull away. I let him hold my hand against his mouth.

We make our way up to his apartment with haste. The elevator stops and opens to his penthouse, and once we’re inside he’s pushing me against the wall, not wasting a single second, and his lips finding mine. He grabs my hips so hard that I’m sure there will be bruises. When my mouth opens he’s slipping his tongue inside and I feel my knees weaken. He kisses me like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to.

He’s grabbing my thighs and lifting me up, all without breaking the kiss and instinctively my legs wrap around his waist. My hands work their way into his hair and pull slightly, making him groan into my mouth. He carries me into his room, the room we used to share, and lays me down ever so gently. He’s hovering over me, his knee between my thighs and putting pressure on my center. His kiss and his touch feel so familiar that it hurts, and I can feel it in my bones. Something I’ve longed for since the very last time. I feel my muscles melting into the bed with the weight of him on my chest. I moan into the kiss and he pulls away slightly.

“Been thinking about this for so fucking long, Laine. Think about you every day.” He whispers, touching his forehead to mine. My brain feels fuzzy and somewhere in my mind my conscience is telling me not to sleep with him, that I’ll regret it, but I push the thought out of my mind and focus on him hovering over me, paying attention to me. The only thing I’ve ever wanted him to do. The only thing I’ve craved for the past 19 months.

“Just kiss me.” I say breathlessly, and he does. His hand travels to the nape of my neck and grips tightly, holding my face to his. His lips are as soft as I remember. My veins are buzzing with a mixture of pleasure and alcohol, and I feel the heat grow through my entire body. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m grinding my hips against his thigh that's still between my legs and I whimper into his mouth at the friction it gives and he pulls his lips away just far enough to speak.

“Needy girl.” He purrs and I nod, lolling my head to the side while still moving my hips against his thigh. “Look at you. Need me this badly? No one else than take care of you like me, can they?” He pushes his leg against me harder and I gasp. “Answer me.” He grits through his teeth.

“No.” I choke out, “Nobody but you.” I whine, telling him what he wants to hear. And it’s the truth. Nobody could ever make me feel the way he does.

His hands travel down my body and push my dress over my hips, exposing me to him. He pulls away and looks down at the lacy piece of white fabric settled on my body, biting his lip and running his finger across the waistband, his light touches making me shiver.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and I nod.

In one swift motion he hooks his finger in the fabric and pulls them down my legs, kneeling in front of my knees. He hooks his arms under my legs and palms the top of my thighs. I close my eyes and feel his breath trailing over my thighs and ghosting over the spot where I needed him the most. He peppers small kisses on my inner thighs, teasing me. I reach my hand down and tangle my fingers in his hair.

“You’re dripping.” He grins and looks up at me through his lashes. “All for me?” His warm breath on my wet center sends chills up my spine.

“No one else. Please, Har. Need you.” I say breathlessly, and I feel him smirk against my skin, grabbing my legs and opening them so far I feel the stretch in my muscles.

“How much?” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

“Please. So much. Need you so much.” I whine and gasp when I feel his tongue begin to lap at my clit, barely letting me finish my sentence. My back arches off the bed and he uses his hands to grab my hips and force me back down. He groans against me and the vibrations travel through my body, making me writhe against the bed. My hand still in his hair tugs at the root slightly, making his eyes flutter closed. My other hand grips the bed sheets so tightly I can feel my nails digging into my palm through the fabric. He trails his tongue down to my leaking hole and thrusts it inside while his nose creates friction at my bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Harry. So good. Feels so good.” I manage to gasp out between moans in broken phrases. He lifts his head and his chin is glistening with my arousal and he smirks. Going back in fervently he brings me closer and closer to the edge. I feel the coil tighten in my belly and he doesn’t stop.

“I’m so close.” I whisper between gasps and he moans against me again, and the vibration it provides is enough to send me over the edge. The coil snaps and my vision goes white, and I’m moaning his name over and over while he continues to move his tongue against me and working me through my high. I try to push him away from my body on his shoulders but he’s stronger than I am, and the overstimulation brings tears to my eyes and he stares back at me devilishly as he thrusts his tongue into me and my hips buck.

“Please.” I whisper breathlessly. “Hurts, Har.” I gasp as he licks against my now sensitive clit. Finally, he pulls his mouth away from me and stands between my legs at the edge of the bed. My eyes, barely open, travel down his body and stop at the outline of his hard cock in his pants. I sit up and hurriedly work on undoing his belt, not saying a word. I look up at him through my lashes and he’s watching me intently. He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and squeezes, letting me know what he wants. Once his belt is undone I push his pants and underwear down and his cock springs free and hits his abdomen. My mouth waters at the sight, a sight I’ve been dreaming of for months.

I lean forward, wasting no time and lick up his length and he tips his head back with a low groan. I wrap my lips around his leaking tip and suck lightly, then spitting. I pull him into my mouth until he touches the back of my throat and I swallow around him, causing him to curse and tangle his fingers in my hair. He holds my head there for a moment and then let’s go, and I’m coming back up for air before going right back in. I flatten my tongue around him and the tip hits the back of my throat again, my nose meeting the skin of his waist.

“Fuck.” He hisses between his teeth. “If you keep doing that I’m not gonna last.” He moans with his head thrown back, looking at the ceiling. I pull back and take a breath through my nose before repeating the motions over and over, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of my throat until I gag and that’s when something snaps in him. He grabs my hair and twists it in around his fist, moving his hips so he’s fucking my mouth. I moan, causing a vibration to travel from my throat through his cock and then he’s pulling me off, a string of saliva falling out of my mouth. He grabs both sides of my face, pulling me to stand and kissing me with so much force it almost knocks me over completely. “Don’t wanna finish yet. Not done with you.” He mumbles against my lips before pressing them against mine again.

He pushes me down onto the bed and climbs over me. He wastes no time settling himself between my legs. He pulls my dress off over my head and throws it somewhere in the room. He brings his hands up to cup my breasts, and then he tweaks both of my nipples between his fingers, making my mouth drop open in a small, quiet moan escaping. Then, he’s dragging his cock through my folds and pushing into me slowly. I gasp as my back arches off the bed and he grabs my hips to hold me down. I almost forgot how much I missed this. His hips meet mine and his eyes flutter shut and he groans. I writhe under him, needing more and a whine escapes my throat.

“Please H, need you. Please, please.” I whisper. He leans down, bringing his lips to mine and kisses me slowly, his tongue dancing with mine. I moan into his mouth and he grins as he pulls away from me, resting his forehead on mine.

“No. Wanna go slow, missed this so much. Wanna feel every inch of you.” He mutters, rubbing his nose against mine. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out. He trails little kisses down my skin, finally moving his hips slowly. I feel every drag of his thick cock against my walls and the sounds that leave my mouth are almost pornographic.

Savoring the moment doesn’t last long. He picks up his pace, his fingers gripping and digging into my hips so hard I’m sure there will be bruises left in their place. Quickly he pulls out of me and flips me over onto my belly. With his hands still on my hips he brings me up to my knees and pushes back into me, quickly pounding into me without remorse making me cry out.

“Oh god, Harry.” I whine and he tangles a hand in my hair, and yanking so my head lifts from the bed.

“Take me so well, baby. The only one who’s ever taken me so well.” He grits through his teeth, the sound of his hips snapping against my ass echoing through the room along with his demanding tone and me moaning his name over and over. I feel the familiar warmth traveling through my belly as he continues hitting the right spot deep inside me.

“I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop.” I beg and his movements become sloppy. The familiarity of this scene gives me deja vu, back to a time when things were simple and all that mattered to us was each other. My brain is fuzzy, and I’m remembering the way he says my name through his gritted teeth and just thinking about it makes me feel euphoric.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Go ahead, cum all over my cock.” He demands. “Shit, Laine.” He growls through his teeth, as if he read my mind and saw my memories and knowing how my name dripping from his tongue gives me exactly what I need to send me over the edge.

“Oh, I’m cumming. Fuck, H.” I gasp, and the warmth blossoms at my center and I’m a moaning, whining mess, my walls fluttering around his cock. He groans and stills, and I feel his warmth inside of me, spurting into me and painting my walls with his cum. His hips stutter before pulling out of me and he sighs heavily as he topples onto the bed beside me.

I roll onto my back, my head lolling to the side and looking at Harry through hooded eyes. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing heavily through his nose, both of us coming down from our highs. And he’s perfect. In every way I remember. My eyes trail down his face to his tattooed chest, the butterfly rising and falling with each breath he’s chasing. The muscles in his arms that flex and relax when he runs his hand down his face…and he’s just so perfect…and I missed him, more than anything…and I still love him, more than anything.

Somewhere in the midst of this, the cloud that hangs over my sense of judgment begins to dissipate and I feel my heart sink to my stomach. Why was I here? The first time I’ve seen him in almost two years and we fucked like it was just a hookup? I was doing so well trying to forget everything about him. But this…this puts me right back at square one.

“I-um…I need…” I stutter, trailing off and scrambling out of his bed. I look around and try to find my underwear and my dress strewn across the room, but it’s dark and I can’t really see well.

“What are you doing?” He sits up, propping on his elbows and watching me with a raised brow.

“I need to go.” I say quietly, bending over and pickup up my underwear, then walking to the other side of the room and looking for my dress.

“Why? You can stay here. This was your place once upon a time, too.” He stands up and pulls his pants back on, walking over to me. I’m frantically looking for my clothes, my heart feeling like it’s beating out of my chest. When I still can’t find it, my breathing picks up rapidly and I’m standing there with my hands in my hair, completely nude, about to have a panic attack.

This is so pathetic.

“Hey, Laine. It’s okay. Take a deep breath.” Harry says quietly, and I feel his hand on my shoulder. I drop my chin to my chest and I bring my hand up to cover my eyes.

“We shouldn’t have done this.” I mutter between my palms, desperately trying to calm my brain.

You’re irrational. Run away from this like you have everything else. You’re so predictable.

“Why?” He asks like he doesn’t know. Like he forgot. I’m clenching my teeth, wincing because I’m already trying to push it out of my head. “Don’t leave. I want you to stay.” He says softly, his hand trailing down to my waist.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I ask, nervously. He looks at me with a look of confusion, but doesn’t respond.

“Do you know where my dress is?” I ask, throwing up hands up in the air, gesturing around the room. I slip my underwear back on so I feel at least a little bit covered and he walks into his closet. He comes out with just one of his t-shirts and hands it to me. I slip it over my head. “Thanks but I can’t go home without pants on.” I mutter.

“Can we just talk?” He snaps at me, and I look at him and blink, not registering that he was growing impatient with me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did.”

“What is there to talk about, H?” I ask with a small sarcastic laugh. The nickname I always used for him slipping out like it’s an old habit recently rediscovered. I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the wall.

“Us. Please.” He begs and I sigh.

“There is no us. There hasn’t been for a long time.” I shoot back at him.

“Can I just say what I want to say and then you can decide what you want to do. Please just hear me out.” He asks and I hesitate for a second before agreeing. I’m not sure what he’s going to say, and I’m also not sure how I’m going to react. If I leave now, then what he said to me last time would be true. I’d just be running away like I always do. I give him a nod, letting him know that I’ll listen to whatever he has to say, and he steps closer to me.

He grabs my hand and leads me out of the bedroom and to the living room. He sits on one end of the couch and I sit on the other end facing him, bringing my knees to my chest and resting my chin on top of them, chewing on the inside of my lips nervously. He sighs and runs his hands through his hair.

“So…how have you been?” He asks, scratching his head and I furrow my eyebrows together.

“Really? Small talk?” I ask and he scoffs, shaking his head and looking away from me, averting his gaze to look out the large glass windows in front of us that overlook the city. This was always my favorite room. He stands and walks over to them, leaning his shoulder against them.

“I don’t know what to say. I thought I had it all planned out…what I was going to say if I ever got the chance…and now, I just…” he trails off, shaking his head again and sighing. “I never stopped loving you, Laine. Not even when I was being a fuck up, I think I just forgot…and then I got blindsided by the attention I was getting and I screwed up. But that was never an excuse to treat you the way that I did. I never apologized, and I sincerely am so sorry.” He says, glancing over at me. “If you don’t believe me, I understand. I just wanted you to know that I still love you. I think about you every single day.”

“I wanted to know that you loved me back then, too.” I whisper, hurt lacing my tone. “That’s all I ever wanted.” I close my eyes and try to control my breathing before I let my emotions talk for me. “I gave you everything, every piece of me, waiting for you to love me. I don’t have anything left to give. I’ve been trying not to think about the last words you ever said to me every single day for the past 19 months. It keeps me up every night and eats away at my thoughts, knowing that that was the way you thought of me at the end of our relationship, and using things I told you in confidence against me. When it was never me fucking anything up, it was you…and that hurt me. You said I was irrational for wanting to leave after I saw you with another girl pushed up against a wall, kissing all over her neck.” I stated, bringing back the memory of the night I left. He winces.

“I know, Laine. Fuck, I am so sorry. I would do anything to prove to you that I’m just so fucking sorry.” He strides over to where I sit on the couch and drops to his knees in front of me, pulling my hands into his. “At first, I tried to forget you. I couldn’t. You were in my dreams every single night. When I was with anyone else for the past five hundred ninety-seven days, all I ever did was compare them to you. They were never you.” He holds my hands against his chest. “It’s always been you. I am so sorry I didn’t realize that sooner. I should have fixed us instead of letting you leave.” His voice cracks on the last few words and he’s searching my eyes for any indication of my feelings. “When I saw you tonight, I knew. I’ve been begging to any god that was listening for a sign and then, there you were, and I just knew. It’ll always be you. I don’t want it to be anyone else.”

“Harry, I just…” I trail off, both sides of my feelings fighting each other in my brain. On one hand, this is everything I ever wanted him to say to me. On the other hand, I’m unsure if I can trust him, no matter how sincere his words sound. I look at him, here in front of me on his knees, and I feel the tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “All I ever wanted was you, and you betrayed my trust. How can I trust you again?” I ask.

“I’ll do anything.” He answers quickly. “I will work for the rest of my life to prove that you can trust me. I’m not the same person I was then.” He squeezes my hands. “I know my words aren’t enough, but I promise I will prove them to you. I know I was selfish then. I’m not anymore.” He shakes his head, looking into my eyes. I feel a single tear escape down my face, and he lets go of one of my hands to cradle my cheek and wipe it away. “I just want you to come back to me, baby. Please.” He whispers, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles, his eyes closing and taking in a deep breath.

I’m silent for a moment. I know he’s waiting for a response. I know he won’t pressure me if I say no…he’ll let me walk away if I really wanted to, and I think that’s what he’s expecting. The thing is, I don’t want to. I don’t want to run away this time. I’m so tired of running…running from my thoughts, my feelings, from everything. I remember all of the good. Writing with him, playing board games with him, going to events with him, the way he used to stroke my hair in bed every morning, the way he would come up with silly songs to make me feel better when I was having a bad day, the way we would dance in the kitchen while we were making dinner together, the way he always made me laugh and knew the right words to say…and when I think about him, before everything came falling down, all I can think of is the good. Before I can think about it any further I decide to go with my gut.

“Okay.” I whisper. He lifts his head up to look at me, his eyes glistening.

“What?” He looks at me with an expression of disbelief on his face.

“I said okay.” I take my hands from his and grab his face, pulling him closer so I can kiss him. Our lips meet and it’s like everything fell right back into place. After a few seconds, I pull away, touching my forehead to his. “I never want it to be anyone else, either.”

—————

ahhh!! i’m so excited to post this. I think i’m going to write more of their story, like how they met and things leading up to the break up. idk though!!! i hope you enjoy. 🥹 it’s not my best work but i still just love them so much. <3

#harry styles blurb #harry styles x fmc #famous!harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #thisloveleftapermaentmark #taylor swift #this love #harry #styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au

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buckymorelikefuckme · 2 years

Text

i ♡ caulk

inspired by a tweet i saw ages ago and have since lost rip.

steve rogers x bimbo reader

words: 2.3k

a/n: there is definitely an overuse of italics in this so i apologize in advance lol. any and all mistakes are my own! header made by me, and yes, graphic design is my passion, thanks for asking :') pls leave some feedback or come chat in my inbox!! ♡

part 2 ❀

The sound of high heels clacking against the concrete floor of the hardware store is more than a little unusual. Steve almost doesn’t register it at first, thinking maybe it’s part of the music playing overhead, but when the song changes and he still hears it, he glances up with a frown. He certainly isn’t expecting the sight that greets him.

The heels make perfect sense now. Steve’s eyes trail up from sparkly pink toenails showcased in strappy heels to, somehow, an even pinker flared mini skirt that is doing a fantastic job of showing off your legs, and a cropped fitted tee that reads MILF IN TRAINING across the front in, you guessed it, pink glittery letters. Everything about you is just… pink.

He doesn’t want to admit it aloud, let alone think it, because he tries not to judge based on appearance, but you look a little lost. Your doe-eyed gaze flits from one end of the store to the other, glossed lips pursed in thought.

Steve doesn’t mean to stare, honest, it’s just that you’re so dainty and bright in a way this dull, musty smelling hardware store isn’t. He doesn’t think he’s seen eyelashes that long before and he briefly wonders if they’re real. The tint to your cheeks definitely isn’t, but he thinks it's pretty regardless.

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts; that’s not important. What is important is that he does his actual job and helps a customer who needs it.

He wipes his suddenly sweaty palms on his ugly, orange work apron and is about to make his way over to you, but you spot him before he can. A smile spreads across your shiny lips and you quickly walk to where Steve’s been restocking boxes of nails, your perfectly styled hair bouncing with each step. Or, well, he was restocking the nails, until he caught sight of you.

“Hi,” you say in a relieved tone. He opens his mouth to say hello in return, but you continue before he gets a chance. “Could you please show me your caulk?”

Steve chokes on nothing, a startled cough wheezing out of him. “I-I’m sorry, what? My what?”

You tilt your head curiously, brows pinching slightly in a frown. “Your caulk? You know, the like, long thingy with the sticky, white stuff inside? Gets hard as it dries…?”

The hand gestures you’re using do not help the heat from rushing to Steve’s cheeks or his blood pressure that is suddenly skyrocketing.

“I… Ma’am, I-I don’t think—” he starts sputtering until you cut him off again.

“I really need it,” you say, almost whining, cocking your hip as you begin to explain, “because, like—okay, so, my apartment is nice, right? I totally managed to snag one of the better ones, and my friend said that I wouldn’t be able to because it’s, like, impossible to get a good one in the building I’m in, but once I spoke to the landlord he was super sweet and let me choose whichever one I wanted. Isn’t that, like, so cute? But anyway, it could definitely be nicer, especially after I noticed that the caulking around the bathtub needs some serious retouching, so, like, that’s why I’m here.”

Steve blinks a couple times to process the rapid pace of sentences thrown at him, and when it finally registers, he nearly smacks his own forehead.

“Oh!” Relief floods him so quickly he nearly collapses. “Caulk, you need caulk.” He probably over enunciates the word, but Jesus Christ. “Wow, okay, that… that makes much more sense,” he says, shoulders relaxing as he lets out a sigh.

“What did you think I meant?” you ask in confusion.

His cheeks flush anew as he clears his throat. “Uh, nothing, it’s nothing. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the—the caulk.”

“Thank you so much,” you gush, smiling widely.

He checks that you’re still following probably too many times, considering the click-clacking of your heels is prominent behind him, but you only grin happily when you see him looking. He takes note of the stares from other men, even some women, and is curious if you notice them, too, or if you just don’t care. You certainly carry yourself with the utmost confidence, your head held high and shoulders set in a gentle, relaxed slope. Steve admires it and maybe even envies it a little.

Which isn’t to say that he lacks confidence. He just sometimes still feels like that scrawny kid he used to be.

He almost walks past the right section, having let his mind wander, but he’s quick to direct his feet to the shelves that hold what you’re searching for.

“Is there a specific brand you’re wanting, or…?” he trails off, cocking an eyebrow curiously.

“Whichever one is the best,” you say sweetly.

Steve grabs the brand he personally thinks is better than the others and hands it over with a polite smile.

“Do you need a caulk gun, too?” he asks.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Oh, no, I have a pink one at home.”

Somehow, that doesn’t surprise Steve in the slightest, but all he says is, “Great! Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

You get a twinkle in your eyes, your smile turning playful at the corners of your lips. It makes him squirm a little in a way he’s not entirely sure he hates, like the anticipation of your reply could make or break him, and he finds that he wouldn’t mind staying in your presence a little longer. Your response, though, gets cut off by a random man behind you.

“I could do a better job helpin’ you out, baby,” he says suggestively, not even attempting to hide his lust as he leers at you.

You spin on your heel in a flash, hair swishing around your shoulders and sending a rather pleasant waft of what’s either your shampoo or perfume in Steve’s direction. The short skirt you're wearing fans out with your spin as well, riding up almost dangerously high. Your grin is now sharp, edgy, and your eyes are piercing in a way they haven’t been in the brief moments Steve has been around you, and he takes a cautious step back.

“First of all, worry about helping yourself with that receding hairline you’re sporting, big guy. Second of all, we weren’t talking to you, so you should mind your business. And lastly, if you ever speak to me again I’ll have this nice man beside me show me where the chainsaws are and I’ll chop off your fucking dick. M’kay?”

The man scoffs. “Bitch,” he grumbles under his breath.

Steve frowns and is about to tell him off for calling a lady a bitch, but you giggle and he stops in surprise.

“Takes one to know one, baby.” Your tone is mocking yet deceptively sweet as you give him an obvious once over. “I can see that ugly silver band on your left ring finger,” you note with a cute wrinkle of your nose, “so why don’t you get the rest of the shit on your honey-do list and head home to your, undoubtedly, extremely unsatisfied wife and leave other women alone.”

A snort of laughter sneaks out of Steve before he can stop it. The man, now red in the face, huffs before stomping away, wisely choosing not to say anything else.

“Tell her to call me if she ever needs a girl’s day!” you sing-song to his retreating back, smiling in satisfaction when his shoulders hunch higher and his pace picks up.

Steve is biting back his own smile, but his inner old man shoves his way to the forefront of his mind and demands to offer unsolicited advice.

“You know, you ought to be careful,” he advises. “Some guys won’t just walk away like that.”

You seem both amused and touched by his concern. “I can take care of myself,” you assure, flicking your hair, adding, “Plus, I have, like, a gazillion self defense keychains.”

You reach into your purse and pull them out, each one of them pink, sparkly, or leopard print, clinking noisily against each other. You pick out a specific one that looks like a castle, putting your fingers into the holes and holding it up for Steve to see.

“This one is like, super stabby,” you explain.

“The tips definitely look sharp,” he concedes, taking note of all the other defenses held together in your small hand.

Part of him wonders if you’ve ever used any of them, but a larger part of him sincerely hopes you haven’t. He clears his throat.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help with anything else.”

He pastes on a polite smile and takes one last look at you, sighing wistfully internally, then heads back to finishing restocking boxes of nails. He’s hoping the monotony of the repetitive task will bring him back down to earth after such an interesting altercation.

You’re certainly a bundle of contradictions. Your appearance is all pink and sparkles and ruffles galore. Anyone giving you a passing glance would think like Steve did at first.

I doubt there’s much going on in that pretty, little head.

Of course, Steve feels guilty now. He should know better—not only because his Momma raised him right, but because people also make assumptions about him and his appearance too. Over six feet tall, broad shoulders, big muscles… He’s definitely had to deal with his share of rude people. However, he doubts any of his encounters hold a candle to yours.

He sighs to himself as he grabs the last of the boxes and places them neatly on the shelf. If he’d been braver, he would have asked you out. You’re very beautiful; kind of like a fairy or a princess, or… something. Definitely something like that. Damn. He really screwed the pooch on this one.

“Excuse me?”

Steve stills, heart picking up pace as he turns to see you smiling up at him. You’ve got a plastic bag with the store’s tacky logo on it resting in the crook of your elbow with your purchase inside.

“Yes?” he croaks. He coughs lightly and hopes his ears aren’t as red as they feel. “Did you need something else?”

You cock your hip again, twirling some of your hair around your finger, looking at him through your lashes.

“Yes,” you pout. “I was wondering if you knew where I could find this guy.” Steve’s stomach drops to his toes. “He’s got these like, stupidly pretty blue eyes, a very attractive beard, sandy blonde hair I can’t wait to sink my fingers into, and he’s about this tall.” You bite your lip as you step closer and hold your hand up, measuring Steve’s height with it. He gets another whiff of that tantalizing scent coming off of you and it kicks his heart right back into overdrive.

“What… What did you need him for exactly?” he asks carefully.

You drop your hand as you hum in thought. “Well, I thought we’d start with a date, but I’m open to almost anything,” you say, your smile turning sly.

“Oh,” he says faintly. “I, uh. I think he’d be okay with that.”

You giggle and fuck, he wants to hear that again.

“Good,” you reply as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Just for clarification’s sake,” Steve rushes out, “we’re talking about me, right?”

You let out more giggles (oh god) and cover your mouth with your tiny hand and Steve melts. He feels his own lips stretching into a grin, chest fluttering.

“Of course, you silly billy.” You’re still smiling as you reach into your purse, rummaging around and extracting a pen with feathers on the end of it and a tiny, glittery notebook. You scribble something down and rip the piece of paper out. “Call me?” you ask as you hand it over.

“Absolutely,” he replies, not believing his luck, staring at the numbers on the paper.

You reach up to tap on his name tag. “Oh, and Steve?”

His eyes are now glued to where your pink nails have trailed down to teasingly swipe back and forth on his pec. He’s pretty sure he mumbles something back to show he’s listening, but who knows, really. You lean in even closer, pressing up on your tip-toes.

“You can treat me like a lady and still fuck me on the first date,” you whisper, your warm breath fanning out across his ear and sending a shiver down his spine. When you pull back to meet his unfocused gaze, you’re smirking. “M’kay?”

He swallows thickly. “‘Kay,” he replies.

You tilt your head and stare at different parts of his face, biting your lip. Steve lets you, terrified to move, otherwise you might say gotcha! and take off. You sigh dreamily and give him a glossy kiss on the cheek. Then you boop him on the nose and step back.

“Ugh, you’re so cute. This is gonna be like, so much fun. I can tell.” He nods dumbly in agreement. “Don’t forget to call me, okay? I’ll be really, really sad if you don’t.”

With a beaming grin and wave, you spin on your heels and sashay away.

“Bye,” he says to the fading sound of your clacking heels, feeling bowled over and utterly lost, but knowing he’d be a fucking idiot to not call you.

With that thought in mind, he digs his phone out of his pocket, never mind the fact that he’s still on the clock and is technically not supposed to have his phone out, and dials your number. He double checks (and triple checks) he’s put it in right, then hits the call button. You answer on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Steve is pretty sure he can hear how you’re smiling smugly to yourself.

“So… Are you free tonight?”

“For you? I’m free whenever, handsome.”

#steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bimbo reader #avengers fic #marvel fic

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sagesolsticewrites · 3 months

Note

Hiya could you do Harry Crosby + “ if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i'd say yes. “ “ what about today?” from one of your drabble prompt lists please and thanks 💛

Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie! I’ve adored these Masters of the Air requests, especially getting to write for Harry my love!! Our favorite navigator 🥰

Quick warning that there is a nonzero chance of historical inaccuracies here, and the timeline may be a little off, but I did actual research for this one y’all! New additions to the ever-growing Useless Knowledge section of my brain: knowing where Lt. Harry Crosby studied for college (he was working on his graduate degree at the University of Iowa when the Pearl Harbor attack occurred; he went back to finish his degree there in 1947 and earned his PhD from Stanford University in 1953!), when and why he joined the Army Air Forces (paused his studies at U of I to enlist after Pearl Harbor), and where he was sent for his training (Mathers Field, California) before being stationed in Idaho, and eventually at East Anglia. Look at me go lol 🤪 Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

a/n: well, that’ll teach me not to try to format my fics on mobile 😂 I guess the Harry fic’s coming out today! Hope you like it Nonnie <3

Masterlist

Just Say Yes

You waited anxiously under the maple tree at the edge of the campus courtyard, fiddling with the worn, creased paper in your hands — Harry’s last letter, telling you that this next visit home would likely be his last before he was transferred to Idaho, and then to who knows where.

I’ll meet you under our tree, pretty girl, the letter had read, Saturday, our usual time?

The tree— the very maple tree you stood in the shade of now— was where you had met often when you were both students at the University of Iowa, studying English. The tradition had started when you were paired up for a project, and Harry asked if you would mind working outside.

“I think better in the fresh air,” he had said, almost apologetically, and you had agreed almost instantly, captivated by the quiet but clearly very smart boy who sat next to you in class.

Even after the project was over and graded, you continued to meet under that tree nearly every day at 2 o’clock after class to compare class notes or exchange feedback on essays.

And after nearly four months of meeting and working together, it was under that tree where Harry Crosby finally asked you out on a date.

Leaning back against the tree, you were jolted out of your trip down memory lane by a familiar voice calling your name.

Grinning, you turned to see Harry strolling towards you, dapper in his dress uniform, one arm raised in greeting, the other cradling a bouquet of tulips— your favorite.

You pushed off from the tree, unable to wait a single second longer, and sprinted to meet him, uncaring of the students staring at the crazy lady running across their campus.

He opened his arms as the distance between you lessened until you crashed into him, burying your head in his chest. He stumbled back a bit, absorbing your momentum, but he was quick to embrace you, quicker still to turn your momentum into a dizzying, joyous twirl, lifting your feet off the ground.

You let out a gleeful laugh as the world spun around you, and pulled him in for a long-overdue kiss once your feet were firmly back on the ground.

After the two of you reluctantly pulled apart, you cupped his face in your hands, drinking him in: lips stained red from your lipstick, hat knocked askew, uniform now more than a little wrinkled, and best of all, those warm brown eyes you had missed so much overflowing with love.

He looked as dapper as ever.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured with a smile, a greeting for your ears only.

It had been so long since you’d heard those words from his lips, and all you could do was blink back the tears that sprang to your eyes as you replied with a simple, tender “Hi.”

Understanding filled his eyes, and he pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead and allowing you a moment to compose yourself before the two of you headed back towards your tree.

“Oh!” He said, holding the bouquet out to you as if he just now remembered he had it, “For you, m’lady.”

You took the bouquet, fingering the delicate pink and yellow petals. “They’re beautiful, Harry,” you smiled up at him, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my girl,” he said, gesturing for you to sit and make yourself comfortable first before he settled next to you in the shade.

“So,” he said, wrapping an arm around you, “Tell me everything. What have I missed? How’d that paper go that you were telling me about?”

You couldn’t help but light up at the mention of your latest paper— your pride and joy, your best work yet if you didn’t say so yourself— and at Harry’s encouraging smile, you rambled on about themes and motifs and parallels, Harry occasionally chiming in with a suggestion that made the connections you had made even clearer.

Despite the plethora of letters you had sent each other, each doing your best to keep the other updated, you and Harry never seemed to run out of things to talk about: the conversation flowed from your latest paper to how Harry had been giving the guys some book recommendations based on your suggestions, to the small bookshop you had taken to visiting, compiling a list of titles for him that you thought he’d enjoy. Harry mentioned that some of his comrades had set up a small library of sorts in the barracks, running on the honor system, but they’d likely need to shut it down soon, with people moving to their more permanent placements.

“Oh that reminds me,” Harry said, digging in his pocket for a moment before triumphantly revealing a scrap of paper with his distinctive scrawl.

“Plenty of the guys are getting letters from their wives and sweethearts,” he said, slipping you the small piece of paper with the address of his next assignment in Boise, “I wanna make sure I’m one of ‘em.”

“Getting letters from your wife, or your sweetheart?” You asked playfully, tucking the slip of paper safely in your pocket.

“Uh.. Well, I mean…” Harry stammered, trying very hard not to think about the small box in his pocket.

“Hey,” you pause to assure him, “I was just kidding.” Under the shade of your tree, you rested your head on his shoulder, looking out at the courtyard. “I know we’re a little young, but…” You took a deep breath, entwining your fingers with his, “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I’d say yes.”

You caught the barest hint of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you glanced over to see a small box held out to you.

A box in Harry’s hand that was open to reveal a delicate gold ring.

“What about today?” Harry asked softly, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek.

“I— Harry—” You were speechless, your world zeroing in on that small gold band before realizing that you had been silent for far too long.

You nodded furiously, turning to kiss him before you could even get the words out.

“Is that a—”

Harry’s tentative question was cut short by your lips crashing onto his. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, kissing you back with equal fervor, the ring box left in your lap.

You both eventually pulled away, gasping for air. Harry’s forehead remained pressed to yours, chocolate brown eyes locked on you.

“Was that a yes?” He asked, lips still just barely brushing yours, and you could feel him trying not to smile.

You were an English major. There were a thousand words you could have said, a thousand speeches of acceptance and love and devotion you could have made.

Only one word mattered to you just then.

“Yes.”

#sage answers #my writing #harry crosby #lt harry crosby #masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #harry crosby x reader #anthony boyle #anthony boyle harry crosby #anthony boyle lt harry crosby #anthony boyle x reader

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misc-obeyme · 3 months

Note

your post about the human au with beel as a farmer has me giggling and kicking my feet!! and now i can't stop imagining the brothers on their own little farm (writing this even though i know nothing about farming)

lucifer and satan mainly handle the finances, making sure they have the best equipment and techniques to produce good crops. the goats and sheep seem to take a liking to lucifer, especially the baby ones, who love chewing on his clothes. satan stays away from them bc they keep thinking his blond hair is food, choosing instead to coo over the farm cats

mammon and levi are the unofficial handlers and bully victims of the birds. mammon gets pecked by the chickens as he goes to collect their eggs, and he says one day, he'll cook them all up as revenge!! (everyone knows he's lying). levi spends more time with the ducks, where they quack at him on the farm and when he's fishing at the local ponds. (one time, a group of baby ducks imprinted on him and followed him home. it took forever for him to get them back to their mama)

asmo does a lot of advertising for the farm, with both his social media and charming personality at the farmers' market. he designs the cutest packaging and sews any holes that end up in his brothers' clothes with lovely little patches. his favorite animals on the farm (a couple piglets and bunnies) are marked with pink bows, but you could tell by how he squeals whenever he sees them

you already went over beel, but i imagine him still having his super strength and can easily carry adult sheep with ease. he also has gained a lot of (kissable) freckles from being in the sun all the time

belphie is a straight up cow whisperer, which may be caused by his habit of cuddling with the cows on their pasture to skip out on chores. but he's great at milking and can instantly tell if something's wrong with the cows, to the point that other farmers go to him in need of help. he's a lazybones hero!

aaaaaa the sillies - 🎠

Honestly, I'm surprised that little post of mine got so much attention lol! I was definitely thinking about it more in terms of what I think the boys would do if they were humans, rather than how it would be if they all worked on the same farm. But I saw a couple tags suggesting a Stardew Valley crossover, which could be all of them on the same farm or all of them with separate farms. I haven't played Stardew in a long time, but I am so obsessed with farming sims it's ridiculous. My favorite is Story of Seasons Trio of Towns, I've played it so many times and I still replay it from time to time because I loved it so much lol.

ANYWAY that's all to say that my farming experience comes almost entirely from video games. I took a class about plants and agriculture in high school, but otherwise it's all vibes and cozy gaming!

But I think you've nailed it with these. I keep seeing Satan falling asleep in a pile of hay, just completely covered in barn cats. Cute lil Asmo all decked out like a farmer but only for the aesthetic 'cause he's running that farmer's market booth like nobody's business. Cow whisperer Belphie, please I love it so much.

Also freckled, sun-kissed Beel... human!Beel would have so many freckles if he spent any time outside at all. I love this because I'm extremely freckled myself and it'd be really cute if MC had freckles to match his.

Though I actually hadn't even thought about MC's role in a human au. Since they're already human. Would it be reversed? MC is the demon in this scenario? Or just MC is their same human self but they meet the others in a different way? I think both options could be interesting. I was initially going with the idea of there being no magic and no realms though.

I was trying to think of what the characters would do with their lives based on their interests and Beel just screamed farmer to me. Like yeah he probably still works out a bunch, but he really loves food. So I thought it would be interesting to consider that as his primary motivation for wanting to become a farmer. He just wants to feed everybody.

Anyway, I love this, I'm thoroughly enjoying imagining the boys on their farm. Though Mammon threatening to cook the chickens is hilarious. Like I can just hear him saying that to a bunch of indifferent hens, too. It reminds me of a story my mom used to tell me about my great-grandmother getting so annoyed at my uncle's pet rooster for getting his beak tangled in her yarn that she straight up made soup out of him. I dunno how true that story is, but it's one my mom & her siblings have told me numerous times lol.

#has there been a farmer event?#if not there should be #give us farmer Beel card art please #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me brothers #🎠 anon #misc answers

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 5 months

Text

Kinkuary Day 3

AN: You all moved on but, I stayed here. This hair on him was so good, idc. Don't ask me where this came from because I couldn't tell you lmao. Also, at this point, these will come out when they come out lol but, I am still very much working on Kinkuary.

Synopsis: Namjoon has always joked that Jungkook has terrible self-preservation. Maybe he's right. And maybe Jungkook would willingly fall into your clutches every single time.

General tags and warnings: Jeon Jungkook x Fem! Reader, Jungkook and Reader are friends with benefits, hybrid au, bunny hybrid! Jungkook, fox hybrid! Reader and this is just pwp if I'm being honest.

Primary kink: Knife play (pretty heavy blood play too).

Smut tags and warnings: Dom! Reader, sub! Jungkook, knife play, blood play (Jungkook bleeding and Reader licking his blood), Jungkook being pretty masochistic and Reader being pretty sadistic, dirty talk, hints of primal play, handjob (m. receiving), slight overstimulation (m. receiving), very mild degradation (m. receiving), some praise (m. receiving) and petnames.

Word count: 1.3k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Jungkook isn't sure how he wound up here.

Well, that's not entirely true. He does know how he ended up in your bed. Again. However, he'd rather not validate Namjoon's relentless teasing so, he prefers to feign ignorance.

“Am I boring you? You seem distracted,” you purr into his throat, your sharp canines lightly dragging along his jugular with enough pressure to speed up his heartbeat. He shakes away thoughts of his best friend, “No I– I was just thinking about something work related. I'm sorry.”

“Aw, I guess I really am boring you if you're thinking about work right now,” he can't see your face but, he can see your faux pout as clear as day. The apology he's about to stutter out is interrupted by a choked moan when your hand drifts to cup him through his slacks. His hips buck up into your hand without his say so but, based on the way you nuzzle into him and giggle, you don't seem to mind all that much.

“You're so cute, bunny,” Jungkook hates that nickname with a burning passion but, he can't bring himself to feel anything except affection when you call him that. A gasp flies out of his mouth when he feels the familiar cool, sharp edge of one of your blades. His eyes fly open, his ears twitching insistently and his instincts screaming at him to run. Get away. Anything. However, he shoves them down and bends his neck to allow you more access. His cock throbbing in the confines of his boxers.

Desire twists in the pit of his stomach when you add more pressure. The familiar sting of your blade prompts his lashes to flutter, his body practically crumples against your chest and god, it's been too long since he's let you have him like this if a single press of your knife is enough to render him so dizzy already. He groans when you drag it along his skin. Strong hands gripping your thighs to steady himself somehow while your other hand focuses on unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

“You're so pretty, Kookie,” you whisper so softly that he almost misses it. The praise shoots straight down his spine to his already hard cock. His head lolling back slightly and a throaty whimper leaving his lips when your hand finally manages to free him from his boxers and slacks. His hips jerk when you wrap your hand around as much of him as you can. That does make him crack his eyes open. The sight of your pretty hand wrapped his slick cock adds even more fuel to the want building in his veins.

“Please,” he heaves, squeezing his eyes shut when you tighten your grip around him but, do nothing else. Your blade dragging down his throat until it reaches his shirt. He should be a little more upset at you using your knife to cut it open but, he honestly can't bring himself to care much right now. Especially with each brush of the blade against his bare chest. Fuck. He never thought he'd miss it this much.

“Please what, bunny?” You ask into his shoulder. A large part of him admires your ability to multitask. He has no idea how you can focus on more than one action at a time right now but, you have always been better at keeping yourself together than him. He tries to access his brain to think of something to say to you. He's sure you can feel him throbbing in your hand but, you have always had a bit of a sadistic edge.

“I– please. I'm so hard. Wanna cum so bad, please,” he whines, turning his head until his lips meet yours. It's incredibly uncomfortable but he couldn't care less. You kiss him back with so much ferocity that he's lucky he doesn't get swept away from the sheer force. Your canines nip his lip harshly enough to draw blood and, he can't tell who moans louder. You swallow all of his sounds of pleasure when your hand does finally grant him some relief. Your strokes are unforgiving from the get go. The slick sounds of it echoing throughout your bedroom. The only thing keeping him from fucking your fist like he so desperately wants to is the blade being dragged across his abdomen.

For a brief moment, he wonders if it would be completely insane for him to fuck your hand anyway. Letting the blade press and press into his skin until it draws blood.

If you notice the way he throbs in your grasp at the thought, you don't mention it.

“Can't wait to mark you up,” you mutter against his bruised and bloodied lips. Pressing your knife deeper into his skin enough for the pain to add to the foggy state of his mind. The faint lines you leave across his stomach sting a little but, it's nothing he can't handle. If anything, it's not enough.

“More, please,” he whimpers, gently grasping your wrist and pressing the blade further and further into his skin until it hurts. You make a noise so animalistic that it sends up his prey warning signals briefly but, he resists. He knows he can trust you. Against all instinct and better judgement probably but, he'd let you make him bleed as much as you want to.

“I didn't realise you were such a pain slut,” you laugh and the sight of his blood painting your lips is far, far too attractive. He's getting dangerously close and he can't help but, feel a twinge of embarrassment. Has it really been so long that your hand and a few cuts of your knife are enough for him to already be teetering so close to the edge? God, he's pathetic.

“Just missed you. Missed this,” he gasps, his hips snapping into your grasp when you quicken your pace. Electricity building in the base of his spine and sending sparks to his extremities while you drag your knife up to his throat. If he wasn't sitting on it, you'd see the way his tail wags excitedly at the mere suggestion of your actions. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum so bad, please please please–”

His release slams into him like a train when you dig your knife into his neck enough for him to bleed. Droplets run down his chest but, he's too preoccupied with projecting out of his body somewhere into the galaxy to pay too much attention to them. His body folds into itself when you continue to stroke him through his orgasm. Wringing as much of his thick cum out of him as possible and painting his stomach and thighs white with it all.

“Too much, too much, too much,” he gasps out once he's able to put words together. Jolting away from your hand and sagging against you once you grant him mercy and stop stroking him. Sticky with a mix of his blood and his cum, all he can do for now is try and steady his breathing and piece himself back together while you lap at his neck and stroke his arm with your unfairly soft tail.

“Don't fall asleep on me yet, bunny,” you tease him and that's when he realises he shut his eyes who knows how long ago. Blinking them open, he's greeted with the sight of his blood smeared on your lips and chin. Your ears twitching pleasantly when you absentmindedly lick at what you can reach with your tongue.

Maybe Namjoon is right.

Maybe he is just the dumbest bunny hybrid alive who willingly puts himself in the clutches of a woman who could end him in a heartbeat. However, now, while he comes back to himself and feels his cock starting to jump back to life at the vision you create, maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Kinkuary Masterlist | BTS Masterlist | Ko-fi.

#jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader smut #bts x reader smut #bangtan x reader smut

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ultrone · 1 year

Note

Is there any way you can write something for Jackie? Maybe something where she just gets comforted through everything she was dealing with out there and finds a safe space with the reader. I dont know if that’s enough to go off but i trust you’ll do amazing, as long as its Jackie content lol I am a Jackie Taylor apologist

𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧 𖥔 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

cw. S1E10 spoilers (this fic is based on that episode), mentions of fighting, just fluff

wc. 3.4k approx

n/a. tysm for your request, i really hope u like it <33 u didn’t specify if u wanted it to be platonic or romantic, so i did romantic by default, however, i added the romantic stuff kinda at the end of it so that u can skip it if u want to :)

Ever since the plane crash, the weather had been the same, with the sun always shining and the breeze feeling warm—until tonight. The air was calm, but it carried a biting cold that made you shiver. As you breathed out, a faint cloud of white vapour appeared, a sign of the freezing temperatures. It wasn't very noticeable, but it was there, reminding you of the intense chill that surrounded you on this night.

It had been around two hours since Shauna and Jackie had their big fight. All of you were aware that they had been having some issues for a couple of weeks now, but honestly, none of you paid much attention to it. Sure, there was some tension, but nothing too dramatic. You all just let it slide, thinking that maybe it had to do with Jackie struggling to adjust to the new home, unlike the rest of the team who adapted more quickly and lent a hand in every possible way. Shauna and Jackie had been your best friends for a few years now, ever since you met them during soccer practice. Since then, the three of you became inseparable, hanging out almost every day after practice and having sleepovers at Jackie's house every weekend. Deep down, you always sensed a hint of jealousy from Shauna towards Jackie, even though she never explicitly said it. But you never thought Shauna would go as far as sleeping with Jeff… and now everything made sense. You cared a lot about Shauna, she had been there for you in many ways, especially when you needed help getting over your crush on Jackie when she started dating Jeff—or at least she helped you stop thinking about her as much. But this time, Shauna had crossed a line, and you found yourself in a difficult situation because both of them held equal importance in your life.

You were lying in your cozy sleeping bag, pulling the blanket up to your nose in an attempt to ward off the cold. Only your eyes were visible, peering out from the warmth. Your gaze was fixed on Shauna, who was positioned near the window, her attention directed towards Jackie. She was situated outside, seated next to a small bonfire she had managed to ignite, casting a warm glow in the darkness.

"Just go talk to her," Tai urged, noticing the heartache etched on Shauna's face.

Shauna shook her head in silent refusal, her gaze lingering on Jackie through the window for a few more seconds before finally making her way back to her sleeping bag, preparing to settle down for the night.

She was incredibly stubborn, but you knew that beneath that facade, all she wanted to do was to rush outside, hug Jackie tightly, and say how sorry she was. But knowing her, you knew that it would take her a while to gather the courage to apologize. Tonight, at least, she had decided against it.

The night grew colder with each passing moment, and even from the comfort of your snug blankets indoors, you could feel the penetrating chill seeping into your bones. The thought of how freezing it must be for Jackie outside weighed on your mind, compelling you to go out and convince her to come inside. Initially, when the fight had just erupted, you refrained from going after her. You knew Jackie was the type of person who appreciated someone chasing after her and urging her to come inside, but you also knew that she was very upset—I mean, she practically called out everyone in the room for being lunatics (which, honestly, was completely true)—and you believed it was best to give her some space.

Before setting off, you locked eyes with Shauna. It had been a while since you last spoke to her, ever since the heated argument had unfolded earlier that afternoon. You conveyed a mixture of disappointment and understanding through your gaze. And with that unspoken communication, you began your descent down the stairs, taking each step slowly and cautiously, ensuring not to disturb any of the girls asleep downstairs.

You gingerly turned the creaky doorknob, easing the door open and stepping out into the frigid night. As you closed the door behind you, the stark difference in temperature hit you. It was considerably colder outside, and you couldn't fathom how Jackie had managed to endure the cold for so long. There she was, right in front of you, sitting huddled with her legs pulled close to her body. She wore her yellowjackets jacket and had wrapped herself in a blue blanket, shielding her from the biting chill. Facing the crackling bonfire, she trembled visibly, and you could even see the wisps of white vapour escaping her mouth, despite standing a few feet away behind her.

With each step you took, the dried leaves crackled under your shoes, breaking the silence of the night. The sound startled Jackie, jolting her out of her thoughts. She turned her gaze towards you, relief washing over her face as she recognized your familiar presence standing beside her. She then returned her gaze back to the crackling bonfire, silent and without uttering a single word to you.

"Jackie," you called out softly, your voice tinged with concern. "It's really freezing out here. You should come inside."

As you made the suggestion, Jackie continued to ignore you, her attention fixated unwaveringly on the flickering bonfire. Sensing her resistance, you added softly, "Please-" but before you could finish your plea, she interrupted you with a hurt tone.

"Did you know?" she questioned, her voice filled with pain and vulnerability.

You immediately shook your head, denying any knowledge of the situation. Determined to bridge the gap between you, you slowly approached her, taking a seat beside her.

Her eyes met yours, searching for understanding. "I love Shauna… but I love you too," you confessed softly. "And you know I would never hide something like that from you."

She let out a heavy sigh, her voice laden with sorrow. "I know you wouldn't. I'm sorry..." Her voice trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes. "I just can't believe she did that to me. She was my best friend."

You were at a loss for words, unsure of how to comfort her. The truth was, you were just as shaken as she was. Witnessing her in such anguish tore at your heart, and the knowledge that she was facing this pain all alone shattered you. Slowly, you reached out and gently caressed her back, observing tears streaming down her cheeks. As she gradually relaxed under your touch, you instinctively wrapped your arm around her, drawing her close. She found solace in your embrace, resting her head against your shoulder.

"Shit, Jackie, you're freezing," you exclaimed, surprise and concern evident in your voice. Holding her tighter within your arms, you tried to provide whatever warmth and comfort you could.

Racking your brain for something that might bring her comfort, a spark of inspiration lit up in your mind. Leaning in closer, you whispered gently, adjusting your position so she could meet your gaze. "Hey," you murmured, using your thumb to delicately wipe away some of her tears. "Remember that walkman you were trynna fix the other day?" you asked, a glimmer of hope in your voice. She nodded, sniffling and rubbing her runny nose in response.

Reaching into your pocket, you retrieved the carefully repaired walkman. "It was meant to be a surprise," you revealed, a touch of excitement in your voice. "I spent the entire morning fixing it. And guess what? It works now," you announced proudly, a wide smile spreading across your face. The sight of her teary eyes sparkling with happiness only made your smile grow even more.

With careful hands, she took hold of the walkman and pressed the power button. To her pleasant surprise, it sprang to life, functioning perfectly. "Oh my god, thank goodness," she uttered, a genuine smile gracing her lips. It was a smile that stirred something inside you, causing a gentle flutter in your stomach. Untangling the earphones from around the walkman, she placed one earphone in her ear and extended the other one toward you, offering you to take it.

"Thank goodness? You should be thanking me," you playfully teased as you inserted the earphone into your own ear, trying to bring a smile to her face. She chuckled, nudging you with her elbow and softly muttering 'shut up' as she pressed the play button.

📻 𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶 cry, cry by mazzy star

With the music enveloping both of you, a sense of solace settled in, the proximity of your bodies providing warmth amidst the surrounding coldness.

Breaking the silence, Jackie's voice carried a tinge of disappointment as she voiced her concern. "Do you think we're ever getting rescued?" she questioned, her hope waning. "I'm starting to lose hope. We've been here for months."

Pausing for a moment, you contemplated her words before responding honestly. "I'd like to believe that we will," you began, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "But if I'm being completely honest, I'm losing hope too."

"I can't do this anymore, y/n," Jackie admitted, her voice cracking with raw emotion. She curled up, pulling her legs close to her body as if seeking comfort. "Back before we ended up here, everything felt good. I mean, I knew I wasn't the star player on the team, I'm not delusional. But being the captain and being able to uplift everyone, it made me feel special, you know? Like I could be relied upon, like I could be a leader," she confessed, her voice quivering with vulnerability. "But here... I just feel so... useless. I feel like I'm a burden," she cried, tears streaming down her face. "It seems like everyone else adapted so quickly. Nat and Travis go out hunting, Misty always knows what to do when someone gets hurt, and for god's sake, even Shauna became some sort of expert butcher. Everyone's doing something, and I just feel like I'm the only one who doesn't want to accept this reality." Her words hung in the air, the weight of her insecurities palpable.

As she continued to pour out her frustrations, you listened attentively, acknowledging the weight of her words. "And to make everything worse, now I've lost one of the most important people in my life," she lamented, her thoughts consumed by Shauna's betrayal. With a disbelieving chuckle, she added, "But you know what the worst part is? It's funny, I used to pretend I didn't know I loved Jeff, when the truth is, I didn't even like him that much," she confessed.

Her emotions intertwined with anger and resentment as she expressed her newfound realization, “and I’m so mad at Shauna, but now I realize, she’s right,” Jackie affirmed, her words laced with a certain conviction. “Our friendship doesn't matter. Love doesn't matter. They're just things that we use to pretend that we aren’t gonna end up like that dead cabin guy, like rotted-out husks in some bullshit attic,” she spat out with resentful anger. "Of course, that's how it ends. That's all we are the whole time. It doesn't matter. We're just empty shells with nothing inside."

She fell silent, her gaze locked with yours as if searching for a response, a reaction. “So, fuck it. Fuck everything and everyone,” she concluded, her voice filled with a mix of anger and resignation.

With her powerful declaration hanging in the air, Jackie returned her gaze to the crackling bonfire, her eyes reflecting a complex mix of emotions. The flames danced and flickered, casting an ethereal glow on her face. The silence enveloped both of you, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of nature.

You took a moment to absorb her raw emotions, looking at her with genuine concern. "Wow, um... Look, I get what you mean," you began, trying to gather your thoughts. "I know it's been tough for you to adjust here. We all see it, and I get why some of the others might have been tough on you. It's a messed-up situation we're in, you know? I mean, our fucking plane crashed, it's not something we can just brush off and move on from. And yeah, it may seem like everyone's moving on fast, but the truth is, we're all scared shitless."

As you held her hand, you felt a slight easing of tension in her furrowed brows. "I’ll help you find something to do, yeah? Maybe not skinning animals like Shauna does," you joked, coaxing a small smile from Jackie. "But seriously, I can show you how to wash clothes or chop wood, or we can find something else you enjoy. I promise we'll figure it out together." You assured her, your own smile conveying sincerity and reassurance.

She gazed at you with eyes filled with a mix of emotions, listening attentively to your heartfelt words. "And let me tell you something, Jackie. You're far from being an empty shell. Seriously. I mean it," you emphasized, your voice filled with sincerity. "You're genuinely one of the kindest people I've ever met, and I'm not just saying that because we're best friends. It's the truth." You continued, “Remember that time at a party when Tai, Shauna, and Nat were all at each other's throats after Tai accidentally broke Allie's leg? Literally, not even ten minutes later, everyone was laughing and happy again, and it was all thanks to you," you recalled, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Jackie's smile grew, her cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink as she remembered that moment. "You really think so?" she asked shyly.

"Absolutely," you replied earnestly, meeting her eyes with unwavering sincerity. "You're amazing, Jackie, truly. And I want you to know that. You bring light into people's lives, including mine."

Her smile widened, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "It means a lot to hear that from you, especially right now."

📻 𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶 Seventeen by Sharon Van Etten

The familiar melody filled the air, and Jackie's face lit up with happiness. "Oh my god, I love this song! It's been forever since I've heard it," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Memories flooded back of those times when she would blast the song in Shauna's car, the two of you belting out the lyrics while going to school. As she unplugged the earphones from the walkman, the music swelled, reaching a volume that allowed both of you to enjoy it without disturbing the others.

Jackie rose to her feet and extended her hand towards you, a playful glimmer in her eyes. Without hesitation, you clasped her hand, and she tugged you closer to her, starting to dance around the crackling bonfire. At that moment, all your worries seemed to fade into the background, carried away by the whimsical gusts of wind.

As you danced and spun with Jackie, enjoying the carefree moment, something caught your eye. You looked up and couldn't believe what you saw.

"Holy fuck, it's snowing!" you blurted out, your excitement evident in your voice. Snowflakes were falling from the sky, landing gently on your clothes and the ground around you. It was unexpected but absolutely magical.

Jackie's face lit up with a big smile as she looked up at the snowflakes. She grabbed your hand, pulling you closer as you both continued to dance in the snowfall. The chilly air adding to the thrill of the moment.

After an hour of dancing, the energy began to fade, and both of you collapsed onto the now snowy ground, feeling the cold seep through your clothes. Looking up at the sky, you were captivated by the sight of countless twinkling stars, their beauty shining brightly.

As small snowflakes gently landed on your faces, you turned to glance at Jackie, finding her already gazing at you with a gentle smile. The cold air made your breath visible, but the warmth in her eyes made you feel cozy inside.

She shattered the serene silence, her voice piercing through the calm air. "Do you know when I realized I never actually liked Jeff?" she asked. The unexpected topic left you both curious and confused, and you furrowed your eyes, silently urging her to continue.

"It was the night before the crash, at the party," she began, her voice tinged with reminiscence. "I remember seeing you with him, dancing together, laughing uncontrollably. It was all platonic, obviously. I knew you would never have that kind of feelings for him. But still, I couldn't help feeling jealous. At first, I thought it was jealousy towards you, for dancing with him like that. But I was wrong," she assured, her tone filled with certainty. "I was angry because you looked so fucking beautiful and happy. Seeing you laugh like that with him instead of me, it shattered me," she confessed, her words heavy with emotion.

You were left speechless, unable to fathom that Jackie, of all people, would ever express such feelings to you. Before your thoughts could fully process what she just said, she continued speaking, her voice barely faltering.

"I tried to ignore it, blaming it on the alcohol. 'I was just jealous because of Jeff,' I kept telling myself," she explained, her words tinged with self-reflection. "But it hit me right after the plane crash. All I could think about was you, finding you and knowing you were safe. And when I saw you unconscious on the ground, drenched in blood, all I felt was regret. Regret for not telling you how much I love you, that I’m so fucking in love with you. And I-"

Before she could finish her sentence, you seized the moment, crashing your lips together. It was a tender yet desperate kiss, one that you had longed to share with her. You lied to Shauna, pretending that your feelings for Jackie had dissipated, but in truth, they had only grown stronger.

The kiss lingered for a moment, filled with unspoken words and years of pent-up emotions. As you finally pulled away, you gazed into Jackie's eyes, searching for confirmation that what just happened was real.

Jackie's expression mirrored your own. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, "I never thought... I never imagined this would happen."

You mustered the courage to express what you had suppressed for far too long. "Jackie, I've loved you for so long. I felt like absolute shit when you started dating Jeff, but my feelings never truly faded. I've tried to move on, to convince myself that we were just best friends, but I just couldn't do it."

"I love you, Y/n," Jackie whispered, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she delicately ran her fingers through your hair.

Feeling a surge of warmth in your heart, you couldn't help but respond, "I love you too, Jackie. So much." Leaning in, you planted a tender peck on her lips. "Let's head inside now, yeah? Before we catch a cold."

Jackie nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with affection. With your hands entwined, the two of you walked back to the cabin, leaving the chilly air behind you.

#jackie taylor #jackie taylor fanfic #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets x reader

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acotar-taylorsversion · 26 days

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Another Rant

I think its funny how people will say that Sarah has had this series planned since 2015/2017 and convince themselves that this means elucien is endgame because they are already mates on page because she said "not much has changed" and that this must mean that gwynriel is real, too.

Like I'm pretty sure it only started out as the first 3 acotar books and the novella anyways. "Not much has changed" means that she didn't go with mor/az and elucien. You can literally see the moments in acowar where she changed this. And please don't forget about acofas. The one where Sarah said that we would have an idea about what Elain would do with her bond. And then in acosf when she literally made Elain and Lucien's only moment together so incredibly awkward. That moment was so telling. And do I really have to go into detail about all of Elain and Az's moments? By the end of acofas I was convinced of elriel and acosf only confirmed it for me. That bonus chapter confirmed that both Elain and Az are attracted to each other and were willing to explore that.

Like first Lucien was meant to be with Nesta and then she realized that wouldn't work out cause Nesta would have destroyed him if he ran up to her after she was turned and told her he was her mate, so she stuck him with Elain. I believe she did this to keep Lucien in the story for one little part of the koschei plot and she has done absolutely nothing to prove that Elain will ever be happy with him. Like I don't honestly see anymore how Lucien could be important anymore. I used to think that he would be this vital thing for the koschei plot but when you think about it, they really don't need him. The only thing he could do is realize his spell breaking powers and free Vassa. That's it.

And Gwyn? All signs point to her being a lightsinger and I don't know why people can't realize that. Az AND Nesta both react to her powers in almost the same way. His shadows reacted to her powers, her music or singing. They also danced to the music that was played off of Bryce's phone so I can't believe that his shadows dancing is a sign that Gwyn and Az are mates. I do not see any kind of attraction or hints of gwynriel. If anything, I think Gwyn just wants to prove herself to everyone around her, especially the one who rescued her and seen the horrible thing that she went through.

And whoever thinks that Nesta would not be happy for Elain and Az because it would "leave Gwyn alone and without a love" clearly do not understand Nesta. Elain is her sister, her favorite sister, and Az is quickly becoming her best friend. She supposedly "hated" Feyre and look at what she did for her at the end of acosf. Feyre, Rhys, and Nyx would literally be dead if it wasn't for her. I can only imagine what she would do for Elain. Yes, she has found true friendship with Gwyn and Emerie, but Elain is her sister, her blood. I believe that Nesta would be ecstatic for Elain if being with Az is truly what she wanted. She would support it. The last time we seen Elain on paper was when she was walking basically arm in arm with her sisters on a happy stroll in Velaris. And I want to know why everyone thinks that Gwyn is ready to be in a relationship anyways. She can't even leave the library yet. And I highly doubt that the first man she will be with is the man that saved her, like that would be a constant reminder of that night for me. And what's to say that she is even interested in men? Like why does everyone assume that she just has to be with Az?

And yes, I know these are characters and not real people. Yes, I know Sarah will write whatever she wants. And yes, I know I could be completely wrong, but based on what she talks about, who she talks about, and what/how she has written things, I can only believe that she is going to make elriel endgame.

That's it for my rant this time. I kinda rambled on in this one lol.

And by the way, HAPPY ELRIEL MONTH 💜

#acotar #elain archeron #elriel #pro elriel #anti el*cien #anti e/lucien #anti gw/nriel #anti gw*nriel #azriel acotar #i thought it was obvious

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michinnyun · 2 years

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Fashion Choices

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!Reader, Marc Spector x f!Reader

Summary: You've been giving Steven a hard time about his wardrobe lately. It's not that you don't like when he wears a collared shirt on top of another collared shirt, you just want him to try new things. Then him and Marc decide to tease you about it. Big mistake. Huge. // Chapter 1 is only with Steven. Chapter 2 will be for Marcy-Marc

Tags: Sharing Clothes × Lingerie × Teasing × Established Relationship × Pure Smut × Sub Steven Grant (Marvel) × If You Squint × Dom/sub Undertones × Masturbation × p in v × Enthusiastic Consent × Breeding Kink × No use of y/n × Woman on Top × for the majority of it lol × Multiple Orgasms × Unprotected Sex × Rough Sex

Words: 2.8k

Ao3 link

Steven has a lot of collared shirts. Like, a lot of them.

“You dress like a lesbian,” you tell him one day, laughing when you see that he's layered one of his button ups on top of another collared shirt.

He scoffs. “I can’t believe you just said that to me during Pride month.”

He manages to dodge the book thrown at his head, but he isn't able to dodge your questions after that.

“Why did I find another collared shirt in your bag?” you ask, showing him the reusable bag he'd brought to the shop earlier that day.

He pouts. “That’s for Marc.”

You can’t help but smile at him. He’s adorable. “Nice try. Marc almost exclusively wears crew necks.”

He doesn't meet your eyes. “Jake, then.”

“Jake dresses like a newsie in 1920’s New York.”

Steven groans. “Would you deny me my comforts, woman?” He pulls you into his lap, peppering kisses to your face that make you scream and laugh, trying to escape.

“I just want you all to try branching out!”

His eyes roll back into his head, Marc staring back at you now, intense as always. “Why would we want to do that?” he asks, pressing searing hot kisses into your neck.

The sudden shift in persona and mood makes you dizzy. You don't know if you'll ever get used to them doing that.

You gasp softly, grabbing onto the crinkly-soft fabric of Steven-Marc's starchy shirt.

“Marc,” you murmur, letting him trail a hand down your side. You haven't seen him in a while, and he’s clearly happy to see you, based on the way he's insistently pressing himself into you.

“Baby,” he mumbles back, licking a line up your neck to your earlobe, a white hot spike of arousal shooting down to your clit. You arch against him, letting him lift you and press you into the table, his hand riding up your shirt and teasing a nipple. You can feel how wet he’s making you, the way only your boys can. He laces your fingers together and kisses the back of your hand, ducks down to kiss your neck again-

Then, he stills. “Anyway, lots of work to do today, love. Better hop to it!”

Steven pulls away from you and grabs his stuff, leaving you stunned and frustratingly horny as he heads towards the door.

“W-wh-” you stutter.

“Don’t question my fashion choices!” he shouts, letting the door shut behind him. You narrow your eyes, huffing.

Oh, he’s in for it now. __

Your boys aren't coming over until later. It’s been two days since the Steven-Marc situation, and you won’t even let them sext you. The moment anything remotely sexual starts up, you shut it down. They’re getting restless. Steven especially. He’s always been particularly needy.

The boutique owner had been terribly nice when you'd explained your situation (minus the “my boyfriends’s’s are a superhero/Avatar/legendary warrior with multiple personality disorder” detail). You’d picked out the prettiest piece together, a delicate lace thing with more modest coverings for your private areas. Something that would drive Steven perfectly crazy.

“If I’ve done my job right, this won't survive the night,” she promised.

You’re slightly fidgety. You've never worn something this complicated before. Nothing for the express purpose of getting fucked.

It doesn't matter, really. Your boys can't resist you. That’s what's going to make this so much fun.

One of Steven’s many button ups is covering your lingerie, which had taken twenty minutes of cursing for you to put on. It’s a soft, purple shirt, your personal favorite. He’d been wearing it the first time you met.

You’re reading a book, or trying. You’ve been skimming the same page over and over in nervous anticipation ever since you got the text he’s almost at your flat.

He knocks on the door, and you answer in nothing but his shirt, your hair done in the way you know he loves. He always makes a comment when you wear it like this, so you made sure it was perfect before he came over.

He kind of just stares at you for a minute, taking you in. Then, something happens, something you've only seen a few times before. They start fighting over the body.

“I don’t- she clearly. This is- Marc. Steven. You-Why d-I- Jake, if you don't- Why can’t I, guys-”

He’s saying this all softly, eyes closed in concentration. You don't want to touch him. You don't want him to have a panic attack, and then have your attempt at revenge/seduction turn into something traumatic.

Finally, he settles, and Steven looks at you with wide, wet eyes.

“Is this- for me?” He swallows hard, looking at the way the fabric drapes over your body, just a little too big for you. You nod sweetly, leading him to bed.

He lies back at your insistence, staring up at you in awe as you straddle him, smiling teasingly.

His hand starts to slide up your thigh, but you swat at it.

“No touching,” your murmur, starting to unbutton yourself for him. He nods, swallowing again.

As the beginnings of your surprise are revealed, you realize he might not be the only one who has a problem with this no touching rule.

They’re fighting over the body again.

“If you’d just- Steven, look at her, I can’t- Stop.” Steven says firmly. You quirk an eyebrow.

“Everything alright in there?”

He nods, looking slightly miffed. “Just- you look really, really good, love. Really good. Don’t feel like sharing right now.”

You blush, then wiggle a little. Steven hisses, clenching his hands into fists. Fuck, he's already hard.

He whines when you finish unbuttoning the shirt, letting the fabric pool at your elbows, letting him drink his fill of your new outfit.

He’s slack jawed, mindlessly moving his hips against you. “Fuck,” he whimpers, letting the word trail off into a growl that ends deep in his throat.

His hands are getting fidgety, so you take the opportunity while he’s distracted to grab onto his wrists and pin them next to his head.

“You’re right Steven,” you purr. “I do actually like your shirts. Maybe I’ll wear them more often.”

He throws his head back, groaning. “I knew that's what this was bloody about, you little minx.”

You laugh, grinding down again bodily and making him gasp.

“That’s what you get for being a fucking tease. You can touch when I’m done with your punishment.”

If Steven’s eyes weren't so dark, you're sure you'd be able to see how his pupils are blown wide with lust. He looks ravenous, depraved. You haven't even kissed him.

“Yes,” he murmurs, even as he struggles against your grip.

You let him go, and hum happily when his hands stay in place.

You unbutton his pants, licking your lips as you pull out his cock, hard and leaking for you. You smear a pearl of precome weeping from the tip, relishing the sounds he makes.

You lean down, letting the crotch of your lingerie grind over his hard length. “You’re so mean to me sometimes, Steven. Just wanted to be a little mean back. Give you a taste of your own medicine.”

He whimpers. “Not trying to be mean. Just-just-”

“Just?” you ask, slowing down until he gasps and his hands twitch.

“Just wanted to prove a point,” he finishes lamely, arching his back so he can press up into you. You tsk at him, but allow it.

“Wanna take this off, pretty boy?” you ask, running your hands over the lace covering your plush breasts.

He nods frantically, craning his neck up so he can see a little better, get a little closer. You push him down with one hand, increasing the friction on your clit while you press a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Later. Good boys get to undress me,” you hum, grinding down and chasing the rush of him pressing against your most sensitive spot. His eyes flutter shut, finally surrendering to you.

“Steven,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth, traveling down his neck and sucking marks into his skin.

He grunts a response, too far gone to really answer you. You leave your tongue over the salt-heat of him, listening to his rattling breaths and stuttering heartbeat.

“You’re doing so good,” you murmur against his neck. “My good boy.”

His hips jerk violently against you, and you stop moving completely. He freezes.

“I’m sorry,” he says frantically, but it's too late.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. You spread your legs, hovering over him and moving your panties to the side so you can rub your clit.

Steven’s mouth hangs open, devastated yet unbelievably turned on.

“Now you get to watch me come,” you say, gathering some of the wetness leaking from his tip to soften the friction. “And you can't do anything about it.”

He whines, shutting his eyes closed and growling in frustration. You spread yourself wider, letting your legs rest on the tops of his thighs.

Steven loves making you come. With his mouth, his fingers, his cock. Masturbating in front of him is still hot, but it frustrates him more than anything that he’s not the one making you feel good. Little does he know, the sight of him all hot and bothered is usually what gets you there faster. Like right now.

You feel it starting to bubble up, a deliciously warm orgasm that you’ve been depriving yourself of for days since the shirt incident. It takes a little while, but you finally peak, your fingers bringing you to completion at the sight of Steven Grant, helpless and completely distraught underneath you.

You lean forward until you're burying your face in his neck again, your thigh muscles still contracting pleasantly.

Steven hesitates, his hands moving from where they're meant to be to gently hold your waist. You purr, nuzzling into him so he knows he has permission. You're much more agreeable now that you know he’s suffered sufficiently enough.

He kicks his pants off the rest of the way, still gentle, careful not to disturb you in your good mood. You move a little, unbuttoning his shirts until the smooth expanse of his chest is warm under your palm.

“We’re matching,” you murmur happily. He chuckles nervously, one hand moving to cup the lace covering your bottom.

“This for me?”

You nod. “Don’t question my fashion choices,” you say, nipping at his ear lobe.

“Of course not. Never,” he says, running a hand over your garter belt appreciatively.

He reaches behind to move your panties aside, dipping shaking fingers into the wetness you’ve made for him. “Fuck,” he whispers, practically throbbing against you.

“You can go ahead,” you tell him, yawning. “Want you to. Want you inside, Steven.”

“Fuck,” he says a little louder, grabbing his cock where it's trapped between your bodies and sliding it between your legs to bring it home.

He lets out a breath he's been holding in, and you bloom under his fingers, legs widening to accommodate his girth. You’ve had enough teasing, and it looks like Steven has too.

He fucks you at a brutal pace, whining and gasping into your hair while you press sloppy kisses into his jaw.

“So good,” you whisper, encouraging him. “So good. My Steven.”

“I- hah, love you. Fuck.” The easy glide of him inside you isn't enough to make you come again quite yet, but you give a valiant effort. You suck at the tender spot under his ear, the one you know drives him crazy, and his hips stutter.

“Pretty girl, wearing my clothes and putting on nice things. Don’t deserve you, do I? So good to me,” he murmurs into your ear, one arm holding you close while he uses his other hand to push down on your lower back, using you as his little cocksleeve.

“Steven,” you gasp, grinding down harder onto him until you feel blissfully over sensitive, the fabric of his shirts rubbing against your skin while he fucks you hard, the way he’s been waiting to for days.

He groans out your name before he bites down on your neck. You mewl, bearing down on him before you sit back so you can ride Steven properly. He hangs onto your thighs for dear life as you move in earnest, pulling off him fully before slamming back down onto the length of him.

He brings his hands up to cup at the intricate lace designs covering your breasts, snapping the strap of your bra before he thrusts into you so hard that you can feel him in your guts.

“Fuck, can’t get enough of this little pussy,” he says, watching himself disappear into your tight heat. He moves a hand down, pressing a thumb to your abused clit and making you black out a little.

“S-Steven,” you stutter, no longer able to conjure competent speech, not when he touches you like that.

“Yeah, you like it when I touch you? Should’ve let me earlier. Even if you were mad at me,” he rambles, rubbing tight circles that make pleasure travel up your spine.

“Wasn't mad,” you whine. “Just wanted r-revenge. And I-I-” You can’t think about anything other than Steven’s hands on you, bringing you to the precipice of another sorely needed orgasm.

“I know, love,” he coos. “You got what you wanted. Now let me get mine.”

Your head tips back a little before Steven pulls one of the cups of your bra down, sitting up and sucking a pert nipple into his mouth. Your chest is still criss-crossed by straps and covered in lace, and Steven is clearly frustrated by the extra covering which he had found so sexy earlier.

“Steven,” you say breathlessly. “Gonna come again, I-”

“It’s okay,” he mouths against your skin. “You can come. Come all over my cock, love. Wanna feel it.”

He flicks his tongue against your tight bud, and you’re overwhelmed by sensation. Just a little-

You reach your hand down to give your clit a little more attention, and finally your second orgasm of the night claims you.

You milk Steven, making him choke and moan against you as your head tilts back and you cry out into the empty apartment.

Then Steven does something that you didn’t expect. He rips your panties off of you.

“Steven,” you gasp, despite remembering what the boutique owner had said about your outfit not lasting the night. “Those were expensive.”

He flips you over, pulling out and rubbing his cock between your folds. “I'll buy you a new pair,” he says, melding his mouth to yours before he pushes in again.

If you thought he was giving it his all before, you were mistaken. Steven’s fucking you at a punishing, brutal pace, pulling at the straps of your lingerie until one by one they all snap off of you and you’re left bare in nothing but shredded lace and his button-up.

You whine, the result of two orgasms making Steven’s conquest an easy slide. Your eyes roll back into your head a little. He’s relentless, insatiable, biting the meat of your bottom lip and licking into your mouth, fucking you so well that you know you’re going to be thinking about it for weeks.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he stutters. “I’m never going to get enough of you. Fuck. Fuck. I-I’m gonna-”

“Come in me,” you beg. “Steven, Steven, come inside.”

He looks into your eyes. “You want me to come inside? Fill you up? B-breed you?”

You wrap your legs around his back and pull him closer into you, making the angle deeper. He groans, wet sloppy sounds accompanying his increasingly quickening thrusts.

“Come in me, Steven,” you kiss his cheek. “Come in me. Breed me. Please, please.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

He pulses inside you, coming hard like you've been daydreaming he would for the past few days. You kiss the side of his head while he buries his face into your shoulder. “Perfect,” you whisper. “Perfect boy.”

He whimpers, still not relenting in filling you. You’re a little surprised. This is the longest an orgasm has ever lasted for Steven. You must’ve taken a lot out of him.

When he’s finally finished, he lets out a big sigh. You rub his back, nuzzling into him and wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to stretch out the moment as much as you can.

“Will you leave me alone about my wardrobe now?” he says into your neck, slightly muffled. You laugh.

“Sure. Only if you promise to wear a t-shirt once in a while.”

He groans. “Deal.”

#REMINDER THAT IM A GAY PERSON BTW #so no one come for me abt that joke in the beginning please and thank you #if you have not been making this joke all month then i'm sorry i don't know what to tell you #anyway happy pride month #my fic #moon knight 2022 #moon knight #oscar isaac #steven grant x you #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector #marc spector x reader

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