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clandestineloki · 8 months

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strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy!

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way.

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?"

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?"

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~"

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #clndstnlki's strawberry sweet saga

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thebimbopalace · 4 months

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SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME

ੈ✩‧₊˚eren yeager x f!reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wc: 2.8k

✧.*blurb: Eren walking into the wrong shower room and catching you touching yourself. What can go wrong? Or better yet…what can go right?

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹| canon!verse, s4 eren, mutual masturbation, shower sex, voyuerism, pet names (beautiful, baby), choking (f.receiving), doggy style position, spanking (f.receiving), use of good girl, degradation (slut), nipple play (f.receiving), dirty talk, dom!eren (maybe), masochism (reader), begging, raw sex

It was a long day for Eren. The only thing he wanted to do was collapse onto the clean sheets of his bed and waltz into dreamland. Working in the hot sun for hours took a major toll on him more than he would've initially thought.

He entered his room and grabbed his towel and basic shower necessities from his bedside table. Exhaustion was written all over his face but, he still dragged himself towards the showers so he could wash away all the sweat and dirt built up on his skin. All that was on his mind was how the hot water from the shower would trickle down his muscular body, and soothe those same sore muscles.

Eren walks from his room towards the showers almost in a zombie-like manner. The closer he gets to the showers, the more the smell of soap fills the air and the steam comes through the open door. He mindlessly walks into the showers. The steam hits his face as the humidity brings him a sense of comfort. He starts to look around the room, searching through the cloudy air to find an empty shower stall. “Somethings off,” Eren thinks to himself.

Eren’s eyes begin to adjust to his surroundings as he starts to shake the fog from his brain and once he does, he realizes that he is in the wrong shower room. The smell of strawberries was a dead giveaway that he wasn't in the men's showers. A faint blush creeps up on his cheeks as reality settles in.

He quietly backs up towards the door when he hears something in the room. He stops dead in his tracks when he hears…moaning. “Mmm, ahh” Eren hears those sinful sounds and tries to brush off how they make him feel but, before he can even process what he's doing his feet are taking him deeper into the shower room.

He starts to look around the steamy shower room to find out who the culprit is for these sensual sounds. Each stall he passes is empty but, the closer he gets, the louder those alluring sounds become. A siren song calling out to him, making his cock twitch in anticipation. When he gets close enough, the shower fog clears and his eyes go wide at what he sees. You with your fingers knuckle deep in your cunt.

Eren swiftly ducks behind the wall where the sinks are facing you to hide. Your soft, breathy moans ring out in the shower room which causes Eren to freeze in place as he hides. His heart is pounding in his chest from the adrenaline rush coursing through his veins. Eren knows he should leave, he knows this is wrong, but your sounds cause him to stay.

With his back against the wall, Eren turns his body and rises to look over the wall where he is currently hiding behind. His eyes peek over the wall and he looks forward at you, and the sight he sees makes his erection rise.

You, with your leg up on the shower ledge as the water cascades down your perfect body. You’re using your middle and ring fingers of one hand to finger fuck your cunt while using those same fingers on your other hand to rub that pretty little clit of yours. You couldn’t see Eren since you were so engrossed in your pleasure with your eyes half-lidded and looking down at your stuffed, dripping pussy.

“This is even better than I imagined,” Eren thinks as he watches the spectacle before him. The number of times Eren has stroked his dick to the thought of you just like this in front of him is something he will never reveal. But one thing he can say is, that seeing the real thing is way better than anything he could've ever conjured up in his head.

The sound of your soft gasps and moans sends jolts of electricity through Eren’s body. He feels goosebumps form on his skin at the sexy sounds falling out of your mouth. “Oh—oh god,” you slur as the pleasure muddles your mind. Eren’s hand goes towards the waistband of his pants and black boxer briefs, he pulls them down just enough to free his cock. He looks down for a brief second and sees just how much precum is leaking out of his fat cockhead. Taking his fingertips, he collects some of the precum and smears it over his cock, using it as lube.

As soon as he starts to stroke his cock, he fights back a hiss in reply at the sensitivity. Eren peaks over the wall once again and watches you touch yourself. You slide your fingers out of your pussy and insert them into your mouth, savoring the taste of your arousal. Eren’s pupils dilate at your lewd movements as he mumbles out a small “fuck” in response.

You then slip your saliva-ridden fingers out of your mouth and place them onto your clit. As you start to do circles on your clit, Eren strokes his cock to match the slow pace of your fingers. Your free hand then moves to your tits as you begin to squeeze and pinch your nipples. Eren lets out a quiet groan as he sees your nipples form hard points.

“Jus’ wanna suck on those perfect tits,” he softly mutters to himself as the pace of his hand increases. Your moans come out shaky as you begin to reach your climax. “Mmm—ah—gonna cum—fuck,” you whimper out as that coil in your belly tightens. Eren’s eyes are glued to your cunt. The way it clenches as your high approaches, the way your fingers work over your swollen clit, and the way your juices drip out your pussy onto the floor.

Your labia twitches faintly, begging for your orgasm to rake through your cunt. That movement caused Eren to let out a deep grunt which came out louder than intended. Nothing can tear his emerald eyes away from your pretty pussy…besides the sound of your voice.

“Eren?” you call out. Your breathless voice snaps him out of his trance as both of your eyes lock. You and him maintain eye contact for what feels like forever before you break the silence. “Sooo…you were watching me?” you ask as Eren detects a hint of teasing in your tone. He stays crouched down behind the wall and asks “Is that a problem?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “That depends” you tease. “On what?” he asked curiously. “On whether or not you liked what you saw.”

A faint blush creeps up on his cheeks, making this whole interaction kind of endearing.

“Tell me Eren…did you like watching me play with my pussy?” the seductive nature of your tone caught Eren off-guard. He rises to his feet so he can stand up straight and the sight of his tall stature makes your arousal come back ten-fold.

His toned, muscular body, broad shoulders, and the way his hand is still wrapped around his thick, hard cock…just the sight of this man makes your body heat with a fire that only he can put out. “I did. But, I would like it even better if you let me have a taste of that pussy,” he said in a deep tone. You bite your bottom lip as you start to get flustered.

He walks around the skin wall and starts to tread closer to you. “Don't be flustered, beautiful…” Eren puts his free hand gently around your neck then says “I know that pussy of yours needs to cum, so let me help you, mkay?” in that same deep tone that makes your insides churn with pure lust.

You look into his eyes with yours glazed over with need and nod your head. Eren tightens his grip on the sides of your neck and says “Hm? I can't hear you” with every ounce of teasing he can muster. “Tell me that you want me to make you cum…or I’ll leave you here with your dripping cunt.”

You suck in a sharp breath then say “I want you to make me cum Eren.” He smirks and says “There’s a good girl” he loosens the pressure on the sides of your neck as his hand slides down to your waist. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall” he commands as dominance creeps into his tone. You turn your body and face the wall. Placing your hands on the wall, Eren puts his hands on your hips and moves your hips back so your ass is flushed with his hips.

“Arch that back baby,” he says with an authoritative tone. And you do just that. You spread your legs apart a little bit and arch your back which causes your ass to be high in the air. Eren groans in delight when he sees the view that you are presenting him. You just look so good and oh so ready for him to fuck that pretty cunt of yours. He takes one hand off your hip and grazes his fingertips on your oversensitive pussy.

“Ahh,” you breathed lightly. He then inserts two fingers into your cunt which causes you to arch your back further at the intrusion. His fingers feel way better than yours as he languidly moves them back and forth. “Eren,” you whined, urging him to go faster. “Don't worry, beautiful, I'm jus’ making sure that pussy is ready for me.” The smugness in his tone would normally make you roll your eyes, but his fingers expertly sliding inside you is making it hard to be annoyed.

Eren takes his fingers out of you and places them into his mouth, lapping up your juices with an audible moan, which only makes his need for you increase. “You taste good…just like I knew you would.”

You push your hips back with the hope that his dick just slides inside of you. Then, you feel a harsh slap on your ass, followed by Eren’s voice saying “Stay still” in a deep tone. Your cunt clenches around nothing at Eren’s mannerisms. Once he sees that you are staying still, he puts his hand on his cock and prods the tip at your entrance. You bite your bottom lip and try your hardest not to squirm in his hold.

Eren moves his hips forward and slowly sinks into your warmth with one smooth thrust. All the fingering you did prior mixed in with how wet your cunt is makes his intrusion an easy one. “God d-damn,” Eren stuttered once he was fully sheathed inside you. His hips are against your ass as he bottoms out immediately.

“So full” you mumble as his dick is fully inside you. Your fingers, hell, your toys could never give you the same feeling that Eren is giving you right now. And then…his hips start to move. Your hands start to grip the wall as you bite your lip harder to hold in your moans which are sure to be loud. The soft slapping sound of your ass crashing against Eren’s hips bounces off the walls of the shower room adding to the lewd atmosphere that you two are creating.

Eren’s grip on your hips grows stronger as he groans “fuck—that cunt is jus’—damn—jus’ sucking me in, baby.” moans start to fall from your loose hung lips as the pleasure Eren is giving you becomes too much to hold in. With every thrust of his hips, your body shuddered in overwhelming ecstasy in response.

You tried so hard to stay still and not move due to Eren’s command not to. But, it was like your body had a mind of its own. You start to move your hips to meet Eren’s thrusts as the slapping sound grows louder. “Theree you go baby, back that pussy up on me—shiit,” Eren emphasized with a smack to your ass. Your body jolted from the spank as a high-pitched moan fell from your mouth. “You like that shit, don't you?” he said as his hand landed on your ass cheek, delivering another smack.

“Yes Eren, again…spank me again,” you muttered which caused Eren to grab the back of your neck and pull your head towards him. The motion causes your back to arch even further in turn, causing his cock to reach deeper inside you. He hissed in your ear “Say that—fuck—say that shit again, louder, baby,” as he bullies his cock in and out of your wet cunt.

“Ohh, god—Eren…s-spank me a-again—fuckk,” you cried out. A devious smile widens on his face as his hand comes down on your ass cheek again. Your moans increase in volume as you whimper out “again…harder,” which Eren complies with more than enough enthusiasm. The grip on the back of your neck tightens as his other hand starts to spank the fat of your ass in rapid succession.

You let out a pleasure-filled giggle at the stinging sensation that is now apparent on your ass. “Looks like I have a little pain slut wetting my dick up,” Eren says in a baritone that makes your pussy flutter around his fat cock. That movement makes Eren let out a low moan in satisfaction. “Faster, please—fuck,” you beg as you feel your orgasm starting to form.

He picks up the pace of his movements as his hand slides up your waist towards your tits. His hand grasps your tit in his palm as he begins to massage it gently. “These perfect f-fucking tits…so soft,” Eren forces out as his release is starting to trickle up his spine. Your hips stutter and come to a stop as you can no longer match his powerful thrusts.

“Uh-uh, don’t stop now. Be a good little girl and push back that pussy on me again,” he demands as a whine leaves your lips. You slowly begin to move your hips again. Eren smirks while his fingers move to delicately pinch your nipple as his husky voice rings through saying, “Good, good fuckin’ girl.” The pain from the pinch travels through your body straight towards your neglected clit.

You remove your hand from the wall and start to circle your hard bundle of nerves eagerly. The feeling of Eren’s hard cock moving in and out of your warm, wet cunt heightens your sense of want to an overwhelming state. Your fingers continue to circle your clit clumsily as you feel that ruined orgasm start to form again.

You begin to unconsciously clench around Eren’s cock as the pleasure hits all new highs for your body. “Damn, pushing my cock out, aren't you baby?” Eren asks through gritted teeth due to your walls tightening around him so hard.

“It feels so good Eren,” you whine out to which Eren responds with “I know, baby. Jus’ keep taking that cock,” as his hands go to your ass cheeks and spread them. He looks down with a clenched jaw as he watches his cock disappear inside of you.

Your body starts to squirm as the movements on your clit increase. “Go ahead baby, make yourself cum. Make that fuckin’ pussy cum” Eren spits out. You feel a rush of cold pass over your cunt as your back arches more for him. That’s all it takes for you to fall apart.

“Cum—cumming ‘ren fuckkk,” you cry out as your walls clamp and squeeze around him, your moans break with each thrust of his cock. “God damn…that pussy’s cumming hard, isn't it?” Eren says with a broken groan at the end. He still feels your cunt sucking him in as you whimper “‘m still cummin’ ‘ren shiiit.”

He lets out a flurry of guttural groans as his eyes shut tightly for a beat. His eyes open and the slight of your cum coating his cock along with the loud squelching sounds tumble Eren into that euphoria right behind you. His hands grip your ass cheeks hard as he forces out “Gods baby…I’m cumming in that perfect pussy.” his cum spurts inside your cunt and fills you to the brim. It's so much that it leaks onto the ground of the shower you both are in.

Eren’s movements seize as well as the hard grip he has on your ass. His forehead lands on your shoulder blade as your heavy breaths fill the air. Eren starts to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder going down your back. “Shit, you feel so good,” he says catching his breath. You let out a small chuckle then say “You weren't too bad yourself, Eren.”

He gives you a light, playful tap on your ass in response. As you both come back down to earth from floating in the clouds of ecstasy, you notice that the water is still running in the shower stall you both are in. “I guess we should get clean now huh?” Eren asks. You look back at him and say “As long as you don't try to fuck me again, then we can get clean together.”

A mischievous smile appears on his face since he knows that he will most definitely fuck you again…and he did.

mdni banner by @/cafekitsune

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#eren jeager smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren aot #eren jeager x reader #eren x you #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot smut #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n

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whalesforhands · 6 months

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the swimsuit dilemma

summary: you’re reminded that swimsuits are back in season after seeing a certain someone on gojo satoru’s lockscreen. (star plasma vessel era)

“Waka Inoue.”

You blink at his phone as it hovers in front of the you, the glowing screen of a gravure model in an all-too revealing bikini that left little to the imagination floating in front of you.

“Oh? Satoru, you changed it?” Suguru’s directly behind you, leaning over the back of the sofa and your seated self to get a good look, the scent of lavender incense with a hint of strawberry weighing heavy on your nose from his closeness.

“Yeah, yeah! Whaddya guys think?” The cellular device waves around lightly, a grin growing on the white-haired boy’s face as he watches your expression, eyes blank as you focus in on her.

“She looks nice, I suppose.” Not his type though. Geto’s response is curt, his eyes much more interested in watching your reaction, the slow tapping of his fingers against the plush material of the seat as they await your opinion.

Would you be jealous? Or would you be so adorably embarrassed, hiding your face away?

“Mmm…” Your eyes are slowly losing their focus as your brain churns, still fully fixated on the picture in front of you. “…do you guys think that style would suit me?”

(Now that’s one unexpected reaction.)

Two pairs of eyes nearly bulge out of their heads, a choke going unheard as your lax expression remains, a tapping of your finger against your chin as you tilted your head to the side in focused thought.

“Shoko mentioned that it was about time I bought a new swimsuit—“ You sigh. “But everything I’ve shown her ends with a rejection…” You slump onto the couch, slightly agitated with your precious Shoko’s resistance to your choices.

“Not cute enough.”

“Choose something else.”

“…are you serious?”

You’re sighing again at the memory of her dissatisfaction with you, at her crossed arms and furrowed brows, a small pout forming on your face as you let the thought simmer on. Inoue Waka must be a model of sorts, you gather. So her clothing must be acceptable by Shoko’s standards, right?

“Inoue-san looks fashionable… Are they expensive? How much allowance would one be…?” Your mumbling doesn’t go unheard as two jaws start to unhinge, red splashing all over their cheeks as you suddenly snapped out of your daze, a thought occurring to you, as a cute smile of realization on your face forms. “Oh, Satoru! Could you show me more—“

The phone is immediately slammed shut. “No.” A smile, no; something akin to an even brighter grin is upon the pretty face of your white-haired friend.

“Eh?” Your head tilts to meet dark, sunglasses clad eyes that rejected you all too soon. “…would it not suit me after all?” There’s an awkward scratching of your cheek as you let out a dry laugh to ease the odd tension in the air.

“No.” Gojo Satoru does not stutter. “It’d suit ya well.” A glimmer of his perfect teeth. “You’d wear it?” Excited blue eyes appear in your view as you simmer in more confusion.

“Well… Yeah. I suppose I would?” Your smile returns as you try to decipher his words.

(Did you just leave yourself open to more teasing…?)

“That’s cute.” A pat to your head that messes with your hair. “But you can’t wear it out,” His smile is too tensed, his face a little too close as he leans in, his breath nearly fanning your lips had you not shifted back slightly. “Okay?”

“Okay…?”

(Would it look bad on you after all? You’re sighing again as you see him pull away from you, a proud smirk upon his face.)

There’s a shadow cast over Suguru’s eyes when you confusedly lean back, looking up to face him when you feel his larger palm rest upon your shoulder.

“…why don’t you allow us to pick one for you? I’m sure Shoko wouldn’t disapprove of our choices.” His expression is quick to shift, to reveal an all too tense smile, teetering just between the line of mischief and his usual genteel, his chest against the back of your head as his arms settle on both sides of your head, his long fingers mindlessly playing with your hair as you feel Satoru’s head loll and rest on your shoulder in pure boredom.

Hmm… Maybe you should…?

(…or are you just feeling too comfortable right now that you’ll agree to anything they say?)

“We have finished packing our luggage.” Kuroi’s voice rings out as you hear the creaking of the door and the rolling of a few luggages. Her footsteps are quiet against the carpeted floor as your ears pick up on another set of feet tottering in, braided hair swaying as her uniform skirt flutters with her movement.

“We’re ready for the flight to Okinawa!”

(“Riko, please do not yell. We will disturb the neighbors.”

“Oh. Sorry, Kuroi…”)

——

“Hey.” Riko is leaning in towards you, whispered words and close proximity as you sat beside her on the plane. “What was that about swimsuits?” Her eyes gleam with a hunger to know, to get in on the action whilst her other escorts were far too busy intimidating the other passengers.

You giggle lightly in embarrassment, your cheeks feeling a little hot. “Oh— You heard?”

“Duh.” A smile of pure, unadulterated pride sits upon her smug face. “As the vessel who will become one with the almighty Tengen-sama, of course such matters do not escape my mighty ears!”

(She sounds kind of impudent, you’re not gonna lie.)

You’ll humor her. “Oh, it’s such a trivial matter, great vessel!~” You sing out your praises. “It was just—“ You take a pause for the dramatic effect as you see her cross her arms, nodding at your choice of dramatics.

“Letting them pick my swimsuit for me.” It does sound more embarrassing now that you’re saying this out loud.

“Wha— Don’t let them pick for you!” She’s quick to break character, grabbing onto your hands with a look of stout determination in her eyes.

“I’m much better suited for the job!”

Notes:

Riko thinks she’s much suited for it due to her yearning to experience the true ‘school girl’ experience! And that includes shopping for clothes.

You did this to yourself. Gojo went online to go find and order the exact same swimsuit on his lockscreen. He thinks it’s ready to be replaced soon too, if you get what I mean.

Geto is upset Riko managed to goad you into picking her as your swimsuit stylist. What kind of future husband is he if doesn’t pick out your clothes with you…?

Whilst in the clothing store, there was quite a battle between the dynamic duo and Riko.

“What do you mean this colour isn’t suitable?!” Gojo is quite frankly offended as he held up the skimpy blue two-piece.

“It looks cheap and nasty, just like your bug eyes!” Riko is sticking out her tongue at him as she hides behind you, grasping onto your shoulders and using you as a shield.

“Come now Riko, you shouldn’t be saying that to your poor security escorts. We’re working very hard, you know?” Geto is quick to jump in, a deep royal purple one piece with a deep-V in the front in his hands, as he appears directly behind the both of you. Riko jumps in surprise, quickly turning around with her arms up defensively.

“Bugger off, you weird, conman-looking delinquent! Your tastes are just as bad!”

He feels a vein pop.

It seems that only you and Kuroi are of sane mind.

masterlist

KOFI does being in okinawa give you okinawan dreams? (continuation of this specific fic)

nvy’s aftertalk:

HAH u THOUGHT i was gonna do my animal ears special but YOU THOUGHT WRONG WAHAHAHAHA

#dyf au #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader

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gh0stsp1d3r · 4 months

Text

𝒫𝒾𝒸𝓃𝒾𝒸

A/n- I see everyone’s requests, Im working on them I swear!! Take this lil blurb I thought of for a lil

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

With your basket in hand, you and Luke made your way towards the beach. It was a quiet day, the others using their weekend to train, or to just relax and sit around the bonfire. You and Luke made them your date nights.

No one was around, as you expected. As you neared the crashing waves, Luke suddenly jumped in, getting you wet in the process. You groaned, but smiled at the boy who smiled back at you, eyes slightly squinted.

You laid down a blanket nearby, then set up the food and drinks. You watched him swim around for a little, he looked like a wet dog almost.

You came closer to the water, feet dipping into the water, where he quickly came up to you, he grabbed the side of the cliff, laying his head down on your thigh, looking up at your lovingly as you ran your thumb over his scar, the other hand on top of his.

“Foods ready.” You mumbled quietly. “Okay.” He said, you moved away so that he could get up from the water. He used his arms to get up, you admired his muscles quietly and he stood in front of you now, glancing back at the water.

He took off his wet shirt now, throwing it to the side. He ran a hand through his wet curls, and he had a mischievous smirk on his face as he sat down next to you.

“Luke don’t do it-“ you squealed, sentence being cut off when he did exactly what you thought he would. He shook his head like a dog, water splashing onto your top and shorts, you held your hands up in front of you. Finally, he stopped and you put your hands into the sand, throwing it at him.

“Oh it’s on.” He said, standing up now.

“Luke!” You exclaimed, as he threw the sand at you, he laughed loudly until you stood up, and threw some in his face. He wiped it off his face, you couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face.

He ran over to you, and you squealed again when he threw you over his shoulder. You hit his back, “Luke Castellan, put me down!”

“Mmm. Let me think… no.” He said, he listened to you huff and complain, then he finally set you down back on the blanket, wiping off the sand from your shirt and shorts.

You smiled at him and he smiled back, then he began to dig into the food, the food that was probably somewhat sandy by now.

You put a strawberry into your mouth, and he ate some of the salad that you made specially for him, the way he liked it.

After you both ate, he ended up laying on your thigh again, you both stared at the sun disappearing behind the horizon. Your hands ran through his wet curls.

In his head he wished that you both could stay like this forever, in this perfect moment with you.

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #fluff #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell #pjo #pjo disney+#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjoverse

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fantasyqueen502 · 13 days

Text

Officer O’Hara

Rated: PG

Word count: 950

Summery: Officer O'Hara hates spider-man, but doesn't know she's married to him.

“You're under arrest!” An officer barks, her gun raised and aimed at the luchador's skull, glaring at her. She steels her nerves, meeting the eyes that were concentrated on hog-tying an unconscious Lizard with its own tail.

“I think the words you are looking for are 'thank you,'” the man says, speaking through a voice distorter.

She maintains her distance. “Nueva York police department, you are under arrest for tampering, vigilantism, battery, bodily assault, and contaminating and jeopardizing numerous crime signs.” She lists.

“I thought we had something, Officer L/N.”

“And getting on my damn nerves. It's officer O'Hara now,” she corrects.

“Is that against the law?” He quips.

Gripping the walkie, pinned over her heart. “I need...” she managed only three syllables. And that's being generous before an electric hiss sliced the air, a force shoving her into a far wall. The wind knocked out of her two more zips, sound bright red webs pinning her hands to the brick.

"Awww, we can't have our fun now that you're off the market.” He whines.

“You're gonna pay for this. You hear me. There are consequences. You can’t continue evading the law---mmm.” Webbing glues her mouth shut.

“Till next time, officer O'hara,” he chirps.

“Congratulations to the new beau.” He swings off.

“You look like a chipmunk, mommy.” Gabriella observes.

Her cheeks and lips are red and puffy. One hand holding an ice pack to her left cheek.

“And you will be too if you don't finish your peas.”

“I did.” She points at her empty plate with her fork.

The mom lifts the plate, revealing a grouping of peas hidden under it. Using a butter knife, she slid them back into the plate, placing them before her. Gabriella pouts, slouching back in her seat, kicking her feet in a mild tantrum. “But I don't wanna!” She whales. “They’re yucky.”

“Finish your dinner, and you'll get a slice of tres leche cake, Daddy made.'' She coos cleaning the dishes. Holding the ice pack with her shoulder.

“With strawberries,” she mumbles.

“And raspberries,” she nods, smiling to herself, seeing the reflection in the window of Gabriella begrudgingly eating her peas.

“I'm home!” Calls from the front door.

“Kitchen!” She returns.

“Ow.” She yelps as her husband sneaks a kiss on her cheek.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, looking to get a good look at her face. “Did adhesive solvent help?” He asks. He had received a slurry of texts while at work about the situation. Trying the call only to be declined until she sent him a selfie of herself. Red webbing covered her from below her nose to her chin.

“Yes, but my face is now burning from scrubbing it raw,” she groans.

“I'm sorry, honey.” Placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Another reason to the list to keep myself restrained from wringing that thick neck.” She grits out

“Why do you not like Spider-Man, mommy?” She mumbles while taking a break from her peas. “He's so cool and saves people like you, mommy.”

“That's right.”

“No, honey.”

The couple looks at each other.

“He didn't go to school like mommy did, followed the rules, and not just swing around as I pleased and assault an officer. Me!”

“But he's a good guy. He even wears your colors.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“I'm just playing devil's advocate.” He holds his hands up.

“Finished!!!” Exclaimed the young girl. “Cake, now.”

“Dinner’s in the microwave,” she sighs before leaving the kitchen.

Reading and rereading the same line from her tablet of a book she downloaded a while ago but never got the time to finish, thanks to life.

Knock!!! Knock!!!

“We got ice cream for you, mommy.”

Gabriella says, nudging the door with her hip. Big bowl in hand. Throwing the now useless melted ice pack to the side. To greet her daughter, taking the bowl as she focused on climbing into bed. Snuggling up close to her mom.

"Thank you.” She coos kissing her cheek. “Got your slice of cake?”

She nods. “Big slice.”

“Did you brush your teeth?” She asks. From the smell of whipped cream and fruit, that was a no.

Gabriella nods, hiding her mischevious grin.

“Gabriella.” Calls from the doorway.

“Uh-oh.” the young girl coos.

“Busted.” the mother laughs.

“Teeth and bed; I'll be there in a minute.” He instructs.

The tiny tot scampers out of bed past her dad. He pats her head as she makes her way to her bathroom.

“I'm sorry,” she exhales through her nose. Eyes tired.

“For what?” His voice is soft and gentle. Kissed her ears.

“I know how much Spiderman means to the city, seeing the looks on you and Gabby's faces when he’s on TV and the daily bugle.” She sighs, massaging the space between her brows.

“I understand your feelings with the webslinger.”

“The only feelings I have I can't say in fear of our five-year-old hearing and repeating.”

He chuckles. She looks at her bowl of moose tracks topped with chocolate syrup and takes a heaping spoonful of cold goodness. Sighing as she closes her eyes and moans from the relief it brought to her lips.

“Let me say all of the no-no words for you,” he offers. “Give him a piece of my mind.”

“Really.” She chuckles.

“Really,” he assures. “I’ll get him a stern talk on lowering the polymer strength in the adhesive in those weds.”

She laughs, but squeaks, holding her cheek, but laughs anyway through the pain. “I feel bad now,” she says through her breaks for breath. “I don’t want him to die from your science talk.”

"Well, too bad for him,” he tuts. She leans in, giving his lips a peck. He smiles and licks his lips.

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #marvel #spiderman 2099 #oscar isaac #gabriella o'hara #reader #oc #miguel ohara x oc #miguel ohara x fem!reader #fem!reader #fem!oc #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 2 months

Text

In another life part 3

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader

Summary: You tag along on a mission.

Warnings: Language and suggestive themes, violence against a curse

“Now just what is that smell?” Gojos head popped around the corner wall eyes glowing.

You smile awkwardly, “Hopefully that’s a good comment?”.

“If it tastes as good as it smells then definitely… you didn’t have to make breakfast though”.

“I wanted to, to thank you for everything you’ve done so far for me”. You smiled shyly while plating up a stack of 10 strawberries and cream French toast with white chocolate sauce and fresh fruit. A sickeningly sweet combo that was also one of satorus favorites.

He sat down at the table eyeing the breakfast in awe.

“So this is how she trapped me…”

“Huh did you say something?”

“Nope”

“Alright, dig in.” You set your own plate down, a couple plain pancakes with some fruit.

“Thank you for the meal”

You smirked to yourself when you saw him absolutely devour the meal out of the corner of your eye.

Yup, I know how to keep my transdimentional husband💅

“So what’s the plan for today?” You ask shoving a piece of strawberry in your mouth.

Gojo pauses and leans back arms crossed. “Well I do have some business to take care of with the students but after that I’m thinking we head back to the school and see what information we can dig up. So I’ll pick you up later I guess”.

“No way” you shake your head.

“Huh?”

“I mean there’s no way I’m staying here, I know it’s safe here because of the veil but I need to train! Who knows when Amomeeemo will show up again, I wanna be ready this time!”.

Is his name really that hard?

“Uh well I have no problem letting you tag along, can’t say I’m not curious to see your technique.”

“Great… oh but my clothes are kind of all curse gooed out…

“Oh right, give me a second”

*swoosh*

He didn’t even ask me my size- oh right, like he needed too…

*flashback*

“I swear I could go blind right now and be a happy man the rest of my life…” you turned meeting his glowing eyes as he leaned lazily on the wall eyeing you up and down.”

“Aw hey don’t say that” you turned back to stirring the eggs not knowing if the heat was from the stove or your cheeks

Last night was the first time you and satoru had ahem… canoodled and you were currently clad in one of his shirts loosely buttoned with nothing under.

“Soooo” you blushed feeling warm arms wrap around you from behind.

“Normally I’d ask how it was but judging by how loud you were last night I don’t need to…” he bit your ear, hot breathe on your neck making you shiver.

“Mmm cocky…it was fine…”you tried to sound annoyed but that was hard when your heart was going a mile a minute.

“Oh yeah? T-T-Toru ah ah please ah! sooo good I’m gonna cu-“ he mocked.

“AH STOP” you shoved him away embarrassed.

“Crap I burned the eggs!”.

“Here let me” he reached over for the pan with the biggest smirk and turned to the trash.

You the tomato turned away in a huff and sat at the table.

“How about we go out for breakfast? There’s this great place nearby, they make these soufflé pancakes that are just the best.”

“Well I would say yes but I kinda don’t have any clothes since someone tore my dress last night…”

“Oh don’t worry, I already got you new clothes~” he threw a bag your way.

“You did?” Huh!?

Bersace? And is this real Jucci!?

“Ah Toru you didn’t have to buy such expensive things- wait how did you know my size?” You quirk a brow holding a bra up with your pinky.

“Oh please, I have six eyes, I knew all your measurements the day I met you”

“Ew that’s so creepy…”

“Well I can always return the stuff-“

“N-no it’s fine, thank you Toru” you shyly approach him and kiss him on the cheek.

“Hmm you call that a thank you?”

“S-shut up I’m not used to this…jerk” you turn to leave embarrassed.

“Aw did I make you upset baby? C’mere…” his impossibly long arm wrapped around your waist and brought you back to him.

You could see that familiar look in his eyes..

“W-what about breakfast..” you gulp averting your eyes.

“Hmm m’kinda hungry for something else now…” he whispered in your ear…

*Flashback end*

*SWOOSH*

“Huh what’s wrong with your face??”

You quickly fixed your expression, “n-nothing just thinking… those for me?” You pointed to the bag he was holding.

“Yep, you’ll have to make do until we go shopping” he handed you the bag.

“Make do with designer clothes? I think I’ll manage” you smirked pulling out an outfit and seeing the label, *Louis Button* still has the best taste huh?

“Thank you baby they’re gorgeous…”

“…”

“Ah-! Crap s-sorry” ugh so embarrassing.

He just tilted his head in amusement. After the initial weirdness wore off he was finding himself enjoying this now.

“I’ll go change..” you rush off into the room and slam the door.

****************************************************

“Gooood Morning students!” Gojos cheery mood was a stark difference to the kids who looked ready to kill him.

“You said we were meeting in Roppongi!!”

“Yeah what’s up with that!?! This place sucks!”

“Did you guys actually believe him…”

Gojo claps and side steps to reveal you.

“Oh hey it’s you.”

You wave shyly at the group who scrutinizes you.

“Well everyone allow me to introduce you to y/n! She’s from another universe but one where she knows everyone, freaky right!?”

“Are you joking? No way that’s true”

“We literally saw her fall from the sky, is it really that hard to believe?”

“Well… ok then if you really do know us then tell us some things about us.”

You thought for a moment.

“Things.. um well Yuji likes girls like Jennifer Lawrence… Nobara wants to be a fashion model… and Megumi is allergic to cats..”

“Well she’s right…”

“So weird…”

“Hey so you a sorcerer or something then?”

“Mm kinda? I help out occasionally but I’m mostly only good at barriers and seals. I can excersize low level curses though.”

“Or keep them as pets.” Gojo mumbled.

“So how did you-“ the kids are abruptly cut off by a loud clap.

“Alright guys, you’ll have all the time in the world to question later her but first, we have a special grade to take care of!”

“Oh right..”

Gojo led you all to what appeared to be an old abandoned warehouse.

“Ew it smells..”

“Hey why don’t you put up the veil?” Gojo said over his shoulder.

“Oh uh sure.” He probably curious to see my techniques…

“Emerge from lightness brighter still…” you make the hand sign and feel the energy curse through you.

“Huh?”

“What in the sailor moon school girl shoujo was that?” One exclaimed!

“What do you mean?” You furrow a brow watching as your veil encompasses the area perfectly.

“Your veil, the speech, heck even the color of it, what gives??”

“This is how everyone does it...?” You cock your head. Is this not how they did it?

“So weird..”

“Um so anyway… let’s go” Gojo leads the group again inside the building.

You enter a large dusty and dark room, with one flickering light illuminating the space.

“So creepy…” you comment glancing around wearily.

“I definitely feel a strong presence..” Yuji commented kicking away a moldy piece of… whatever that was..

Suddenly Gojo stopped and motioned forward with his head, “Go on, I’ll stand back here unless you really need me”.

The kids stepped forward, you hung back as well. You wanted to train yes but didn’t want to get in the way of their lesson.

A scurrying and squeak had you shrieking and suddenly launching yourself onto Gojos arm unconsciously stepping up on his shoes so the offending animal couldn’t get you.

“Ew ew ew so gross” you held on tight until the rat was out of view.

“Ah! not again!!” You jumped back off in a fluster of apologies and embarrassment.

“Don’t apologize, I’m honestly finding all of this funny now.”

“Don’t say that….” You mumble mortified.

*Crash*

“Ah there it is!” Suddenly a giant grotesque spider looking curse swings down from the ceiling. You see the kids a little ways ahead get into position.

“I know they need to get stronger but I always hate watching them fight…” you sighed a bit sadly. Gojo couldn’t protect them forever but you wish he could..

“You care about them a lot huh?”

“Of course I do, they’re basically family…I wonder how they’re doing… they have a tournament coming up soon too.. winner gets promoted to first grade.”

“Oh? They choose like that?”

“Yeah, but I think it would be-ah! S-should we help them?!” You cried out watching the spider thingy wrap them up in webs.

“Nope not yet, have faith in them.”

“I know I just- ah I can’t watch!” You turn around covering your eyes.

Huh? A cold feeling washed over you all of the sudden. Slowly you looked up and eyed the ceiling carefully. You felt it before you saw it, a giant ball of spider saliva shooting your way.

Your right hand moved on instinct, swiping across your body whilst releasing a burst of energy that acted as a shield. The saliva sputtered on the ground melting and sizzling.

“Ah so you do have some skill after all.” Gojo said directly behind you.

The jerk, he could’ve warned you!

“Why don’t you take care of this spider for us? You said you needed training right? This one is a lot weaker than the one the kids are fighting.” Gojo smirked.

Ugh why did I say that??? Spiders are so creepy ew..

“S-sure” you shivered in disgust as the being spiraled down from the ceiling.

You swiped your right hand out again and this time let the energy form in your palm. When it was adequate you pushed it in the direction of the curse.

Crap it’s fast… you dodged another saliva attack with your shield and rethought your strategy.

Instead of aiming at the curse you aimed at the Ceiling above it.

*Rumble* *Crash*

*SCREEEEEEEECH*

You winced as the ceiling caved in and smooshed the spider under it to the ground.

You took a few steps back watching the pile carefully.

You charged a different, more powerful blast in your palm and waited.

…..

“SCREEEEEEEECH”

The pile erupted and you readied your hand. You totally got this.

The curse was quick to set its 100 eyes on you and make a dash.

Ok ready to hit it in three, two on- huh? Ah

Suddenly a flash of heat washed over you and your vision blurred.the spider was suddenly tilted in your eyes.

*swoosh*

“Uh hey you ok?” Your view was changed to silvery white locks hovering over you.

Gojo frowned holding you in his arms

“You were doing good, what happened?”

You used a hand clutching his chest to hold yourself steady in his arms. “Frgot mm pills”

“Huh?” Oh right. Your Satoru did mention something about iron pills. Guess I should’ve taken it more seriously…

“I’ll be fine… just stop spinning for a second” you frowned.

“I’m standing still…”

****************************************************

“Sorry for the trouble…” you were currently sipping on some juice in a nearby cafe with Gojo. A small bottle of pills by your hand.

“It’s fine don’t worry about it.” He waved dismissively.

“Besides, the pharmacy was by this cafe which happens to be one of my favorites.”

“I don’t think I’ve been here before… ooh they have matcha cake rolls, you know who’d love this place? Suguru, hes always hating on sweet stuff but this one doesn’t seem like it has too much sugar…”

“Hm? Oh yeah..”

Huh, there it is again, that weird feeling when I bring up Suguru.

Do I ask? No I shouldn’t right? Maybe I can ask the kids..

It’s nearing evening time when you and Gojo are making your way to the school. You asked him not to warp based on how dizzy you just were.

You subtly glance to the side, the setting sun illuminating his profile in a golden hue. He opted for his designer glasses today and man were you a sucker for them.

You remember the time you accidentally sat on one of his limited edition Lay Banz shades and he made you hold a funeral for them. Man what a goof…

“Uh you ok over there?” Gojo raised a brow hearing you snicker to yourself like a maniac.

“Yeah, just remembered something funny…”

He hummed and smiled. “Your smile sorta reminds me of something…just can’t quite put my finger on what…”

You smiled warmly, thinking back to one of your first dates.

*Flashback*

“Your smile reminds me of something…”

“Oh yeah? What?”.

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I won’t laugh…” probably…

“My grandmother...”.

“Your grandmother? Why?”

Did you have an old lady laugh??

“Well when she smiled, everything around her seemed to brighten up.”

“….”

“Huh why are you so red?”

“Shut up.”

*end flashback*

“Uh oh you’re turning colors again, you’re not gonna faint again are you??” Gojo started fanning you.

“I’m good I’m good-“ you smack his hand away laughing.

“Did I mention you’re kinda weird?”

“Well Excuse me, I do not take insults from someone who organizes their sun glasses by, and I quote, “Cold, Warm, and Horny” like I still to this day don’t get what that means!”

“….you know too much…”

You give him a teasing smile, “I did mention we are married right?”

“So weird…”

****************************************************

Thank you all for the amazing support!! It means so much and motivates me to keep going! I love you all xoxo

Also please don’t be shy to interact or send me things in my inbox, I love that stuff haha

@gojosatorulover7 @goaway-plzz @goldenglow149 @taakt17 @kneesheee @yumii-34 @ritsatoru @generalstephkenobi @author20 @bitchycloudstrawberry @hojoslutoru @sheluvnassi @shirabane @reagan707 @angstylittleb1tch

#satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo #funny #fluff #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru gojou x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen funny #satoru gojo x wife #wife #marriage #wife reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Bittersweet 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your startup business catches the eye of a powerful rival.

Character: Loki Laufeyson

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

“So, the Green Bundle includes a Match truffle, chocolate mint smoothies, and green tea infused fudge,” you explain to the trio of women across from you. “The deluxe includes peppermint cocoa as well and comes in a this mug.”

You present one of the few kits you have left in your inventory. As big a deal as getting a stall at the event was, you hadn’t expected the crowd. You’re overwhelmed, especially realising you’re the only stand with only a single body.

“That’s so cute,” the taller brunette remarks, “what about the Pink kit? It says strawberry and creme?”

“Ah, yes, that one sold out rather quickly today. I can offer a voucher for my online boutique or I can sell you a sampler box? It has the strawberry and creme as well as my more popular flavours.”

“Do you do this all yourself?” The curly blonde asks as she eyes the chocolate dipped cherries.

Another body crowds in, a tall men bending to peruse your hand-painted sign listing all your bundles and boxes. He pays you little mind as he eyes cling to the letters and he reaches to pluck up one of your cards. You return your attention to the blonde.

“Yes, they’re all hand-crafted. The mugs as well but I don’t do those. I’ve a friend who makes those.”

“The packaging is so pretty,” the first preens, “can I have a sampler then?”

“Sure,” you answer, “I do the packaging as well. All the stickers, the bows I tie myself, and I decorate each box.”

“Wow, that’s so cool,” the middle on remarks, “I’ll have a sampler as well and the green bundle.”

“Sampler for me,” the third agrees.

You go through the same process with each. You grab the product, put it in a bag, seal it with a sticker, and ring them through with a tap of their card. They all seem excited for their purchase and it’s contagious. It’s been a hectic day but you’re running low and you don’t think you’ll make it through to closing. Still, it’s good advertising.

“Green tea fudge?” The tall man slithers towards the center of your counter, “an unusual combination.”

“Yes, that one took a lot of experimenting.”

“Mmm,” he still has your card in hand, bending it slightly as he flicks it with his thumb, “the red bundle. Cherry, red velvet, and...” he leans back to check the sign, “cayenne. Interesting.”

“I try to make sure there’s variety in each,” you explain.

“Yes, so it seems. I’ll take a red then.”

“Sorry, sir, um, I’ve sold out of most. I still have the yellow, the black, and the green--”

“Sold out?” He raises his wrist to give an emphatic glance at his watch, “either you’re very popular or ill-prepared.”

You’re surprised by the accusation. He’s rather blunt. You’ve dealt with many different types today but they’ve all been relatively pleasant, after all, it’s hard to be in a bad mood at a Baking Show.

“Fair, I wasn’t expecting so many buyers, sir. But you have my card, you’ll see my online boutique is listed--”

“But I want to buy now,” he says as he tilts his head, dark brows rising just slightly.

“I understand, I apologise for the inconvenience, but I just don’t have the red on-hand. I do have a sampler here--” You grab one of the variety boxes, “it would have the cayenne and the cherry.”

“Do you think a one-person operation like this is sustainable?” He inquires sharply.

You wince and shake your head, “sir? I’ve only just started. I’m sure with growth I’ll have to adjust.”

“And do you have a business plan or is this some Etsy venture with no goals?”

You nearly choke. You don’t know what you’ve done to offend him.

“Well, sir, if you don’t want to buy, I do have free samples available. I don’t have any of the red flavours but I do have some banana peanut butter and salted caramel apple--”

“I didn’t ask about samples,” he insists, “I’m asking about your business plan.”

You bat your lashes and look around. Has he come to this event just to interrogate people over their bottom line?

“I suppose it’s something I will have to review after today,” you contend.

“I’d say,” he tucks your card into his jacket pocket, his hand lingering within as he pulls out a leather wallet, “if you have any questions...”

He slides a card free and offers it. You take it hesitantly and read the gold font on matte black cardstock. Black Snake Chocolatier. You run your fingers over the embossed lettering and narrow your eyes. You peer over at the large banner over that business’ booth. He must be from over there but he’s not exactly dressed for the work. His suit is pressed and stainless.

“I did sponsor that one,” he pulls your attention back, “but I’ve come down to take measure of my competition and possible... acquisitions.”

You nod slowly as you meet his green eyes. Is this intimidation?

“Loki Laufeyson,” he offers his hand as a glint of silver in his hair catches the light, “might I have your name?”

You trade your name and a handshake. He squeezes enough for you to wince. He lets go and you slip his card in you apron pocket with all the others collected from your fellow vendors.

“I’ll certainly take a sampler,” he says, “see if this little venture has any teeth.”

His every word is like a bite. He speaks with the fangs of the very logo of his business. You put his purchase into your phone and offer the square for him to tap his payment. He processes it and swipes up the box before you can package it.

“Do you want a bag?” You ask.

“I can handle it,” he tucks the box under his arm. “Best of luck to you doing the same.”

He glances around and slowly moves aside as a group of new customers set in. A family of five with three hollering children with grabby hands. Your eyes widen as you smile at them as best you can. This day has truly tested your social battery.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #drabble #au #sweet and spicy #bittersweet #series #mcu #marvel #thor

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hellsslibrary · 10 months

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✧･ﾟ:*NSFW Alphabet with Riddle Rosehearts*:･ﾟ✧

DNI : minors.

!!Warnings : switch(mostly sub)!bottom!Riddle, kink for size difference, oral, praise kink, soft sex, teasing, roleplay(King and Queen of Hearts), pet play, male reader.

Trey <————«« Riddle »»————> Jack

Heartslabyul. Riddle Rosehearts.

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

He is very tired after sex, no matter what the pace was, no matter who dominated, no matter how many rounds and how intense the sex was. He is always tired. He also has a weak throat, I think, so he's always thirsty. So take care of the cute, red-haired boy, okay?

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Well... I guess his favorite body part in you is your eyes. He loves the way they shrink, looking down at him as he lies helpless underneath you, writhing in pleasure. He loves the way you close them when he pleases you. And he just loves your loving, sensual look when you talk about loving him.

His favorite body part in him is probably all parts of his body anyway. He's been very prepared for your first time by reading everything there is to know about two men having sex and... He's probably been doing some practice so somehow he loves everything about him and won't pick out anything about him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Considering his overly balanced and proper diet, his sperm is probably one of the most perfect. Like the truth, this is the most ordinary sperm, and it is released in a measured, normal amount, absolutely nothing unusual.

As for you, he'd rather you cum outside of him. He just doesn't want to give you the hassle of washing it out of him and himself too. Although he doesn't mind if you want to cum inside, yes.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mmm, since the beginning of the relationship, he may have had the idea of role-playing the King and Queen of Hearts (Well, she's literally his prototype, so yeah). And, given that the king is much more loyal and kind (albeit still as infantile as his wifey), you would take a more submissive position, and he would, on the contrary, be more dominant and then you would violate one of the rules of the queen and on you would have hung a collar, though very unpleasant and heavy :( .Well, I leave everything else to your taste, imps~.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He's... a total virgin. His mother is clearly "one partner for life", at least for her ideal son, so yes, he is definitely a virgin. Although his mother probably taught how to handle the female body and certain parts of it, apparently confident that her son would not be able to fall in love with a guy.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Mmm, doggy style? He doesn't really like it when you see his face, although he loves when you play with his body however you want, but in the end he definitely gives up and puts his head on the pillows, exposing half of his face to you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He is definitely serious. Although if you have the most ordinary relaxed, sensual sex where you just enjoy each other, then he can lower his walls a little and joke here and there, but not much.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Definitely very clean, the hair is just completely shaved off. Like really, how can Riddle of all people not be clean there? Although the color matches, the same strawberry red.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Of course very strongly! For him, sex is primarily a moment of your privacy, a moment where you can enjoy each other without unnecessary factors. He is incredibly romantic, even if sometimes he can be shy about it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He hardly has time for that, anyway. But I guess he doesn't do it often anyway, he'd rather have sex with you than his hand or anything.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Kink for praise, obviously! I won't even explain it, it's just Riddle. I think pet play. Like why not? He will gladly put himself under your command, knowing that you do not want to harm him. Or he will take command. Depends on your tastes. And I have one thought that maybe he has a kink for tenderness(?). I don't know how to explain it better, but I think it's the caring and gentle handling of him that turns him on during sex.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Within those places where ABSOLUTELY NO ONE can see or hear you. But probably the bed, he's simple enough in his looks.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

I think it fires up surprisingly fast or not at all. Although given his temperament, this should not be surprising. It's just the truth... One moment he'll have a hard-on from a few words whispered in his ear from you, and the next time he won't have a hard-on even after you teasingly rub his cock through his pants.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Sex in public or semi-public places. Too much use of pain. And probably humiliation (albeit in a playful or, uh, romantic way maybe), but if you tease him like that... You better not do it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves to give. After all, he read a lot of books before your first time, like I said before, so he definitely knows what he's doing... Only in his head, of course.

Although he still loves to receive, of course! Blowjob, rimming, eating out, whatever! He likes everything as long as you do it. (Although for some reason it seems to me that he preferred rimming/eating out).

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slower and gentler tempo. He does not like to rush, he wants everything to be beautiful, cute and romantic. So he definitely prefers this pace.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He... Not a fan of that. Absolutely not a fan of this. One orgasm is probably not enough for him to satisfy himself. But if you or he really wants to fuck, but you don't have too much time, then of course he will agree.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He won't take risks, nope. Experiments of course. But he will not risk your reputation, health, or anything else. But to satisfy your perverted fantasies or offer his own, he is happy to.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Well, it lasts quite an average amount of about 5-10 I guess. Although somewhere around 12, he is already starting to get overstimulated.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He didn't have them. He considered it too dirty and unpleasant. Like who needs toys if there are hands, genitals and stuff? He... Began to treat them neutrally after starting a relationship with you. At least he doesn't mind them, and he'll keep something if you give it to him, but he's unlikely to buy it himself.

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

Riddle will not tease you if you are dominant. He wants to be completely obedient and a good boy for you, although he may tease you a little if it pleases you, but he will immediately finish with any disapproval from you. But he loves to tease you when he dominates. He just finds something sexy in your pleading or in your facial expression when he teases you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He thought he would be quiet like 1/10. But finished somewhere at 7-8/10. It's loud enough, yes. He doesn't scream though. But it's still very loud and that changes that fact. It's too easy for him to feel pleasure when it all starts, so he just can't handle it.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

He definitely has a kink to the size difference, it's true, you can't deny it. He's just tiny, and he's tiny there too. I'm just heading the headcanon for the fact that he has a small dick and has always been shy about it, even at the beginning of a relationship with you (well, I mean you're a guy biologically, if not, grow your dick). But after all, why does he need a big dick if he's the bottom, right? :)

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Very slim. Maybe a little muscle, but it seems to me that there are not so many of them. Well, his penis is small in both size and girth, as I said earlier. 3-4 inches / 7-10 cm.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It is very low. I doubt he ever wanted to have too much sex, other than his puberty, of course. But on his own, he doesn't want to fuck very often, so in almost all situations you need to offer it.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fell asleep afterwards)

He... I think he generally has a hard time falling asleep, worrying about something or remembering. But I think next to you and even more so, given that he is tired, I think he will fall asleep quickly enough.

#seme male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #a!writes.#sub character #sub twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle x male reader #sub riddle #riddle x reader #riddle smut #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle Rosehearts x male reader #twisted wonderland headcanons

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pocket-jack · 6 months

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Luffy: New island is so cool! I wish I could bye a gift for Traffy... Maybe some fruit cake?... Oh damn, but I don't know what kinda fruits he likes...

Corazon: He likes strawberry a lot

Luffy: Wha-...

"Luffy stares at a figure hidden behind the boxes. The only things that visible is a big dark coat, red hat and a hand, holding a cigarette"

Luffy: Are you from Traffy's crew? You should be if you know him that much!

Corazon: ....

Luffy: I saw the shop that sales strawberry pies... He will absolutely love it! Thank you, Traffy's crewma-

Luffy, turns to him, but sees nothing: Oh... He's already gone...

Luffy: Traffy, I got you some strawberry cakes!

Law: Wha... Why?

Luffy: Because I wanted to make you a gift! And I know you liked strawberries, so...

Law, receiving a gift, confused as hell: Wait, but... How did you know that? I'm pretty sure I haven't told you what my favorite fruit were

Luffy: Oh! One of your crewmates told me!

Law, confused more, because the only person who knew he loves strawberries was Corazon: What??? Wait, what did he looked like???

Luffy: Mmm, I'm not sure... Dark coat? Red hat? And he also had a cigarette in his hand. Traffy? You look paler than usual... Is something wrong?

Law scared as hell: ......

Law: No... Nothing wrong.........

Law, hugging Luffy: Thank you for the gift, Luffy-ya. I love it... Really.

Luffy: Nishishi! You should thank this guy for me! He runned off so quickly! What a shy guy!

Law: Yeah.... I'm gonna thank him.....

Law, staring at the cakes on his table: How should I react on that?

Law, looking up at the ceiling: Cora-san? Is that your form of appreciation?

Law, smiling sadly: It's seems that you love Luffy too, huh?

"Law can't explain it really, but at some moment he felt a familiar hand lay on his head and then disappear quickly"

Law: Yeah... Thank you for the cake, I guess

_______________

What if Luffy can see ghost sometimes thanks to his observation Haki? He's too stupid to understand that it's a ghost and why does some people hide away from his gaze... But he can bet he saw a familiar orange hat on every island of the New World. He just thinks he's hallucinating, that's all

#one piece #lawlu #monkey d. luffy #trafalgar law #corazon

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straykidshoe · 5 months

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Show a little loving

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Mature (Smut)

MUSIC: Lovers by Anna of the north

CONTAINS: established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS: dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, sub!reader, dom!bang chan, oral (m recieving), dirty talk, cock-warming. please message me if i misseed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1,963

A/N: Reposting from my deactiated account! I'll just be re-uploading everything so that I can (sort of) continue where I left off (if you knew me before I deleted my account, haha)

You finally finish your own practise at around 9pm, luckily both of your building’s were close together and it was only a brisk 5 minute walk. So, you picked up 2 some bubble tea’s from the corner shop and walked up to Chan’s studio- as you approached the opaque glass door you could hear a beat streaming through. Slowly you opened the door, peeking your head in, you saw him sitting on his chair- head bent backwards with the music blaring through the two speakers on either side of the many monitors set up.

Creeping behind him you made sure to leave the two drinks in your hand on the table that was placed by the sofa, bringing your hands up to cup over his eyes you bent down to his ear and whispered,

‘Guess who?’

‘Han?’ He smiled when he answered- the patented dimple shining through.

You bit his ear slightly, ‘No genius.’

‘Hi baby..’ he sighed contently, his hands coming over yours, guiding them down until you could see his eyes.

You walked around to stand in front of him, you watched at he brought his head back up, audibly cracking the bones. You winced slightly,

‘What’s up?’ He said, circling his large arms around your waist.

‘Missed you..’ You stroked his hair, scratching at the scalp, ‘I brought boba?’

He let out a breathy laugh onto your exposed stomach, ‘I actually love you’

‘I know you do.’ You laughed as you tried to pry his arms from around your stomach, ‘Babe, I kinda need to move..’

‘Mmm..no’ His muffled voice returned.

‘Fine, i’ll just have to drink your boba.’ you threated as you made one last attempt to wriggle free.

He loosed his grip, but twisted around in his chair to watch you bend down into the bag and grab the two cups, just as you were about to stand up- you heard him hum appreciatively,

‘Just stay like that for a second..’

You laughed as you walked back to him, sitting onto his lap, handing him the large plastic cup,

‘Thanks baby’ you watched his face morph into delight when he sucked on the straw,

‘Mhhh, what’s the flavour?’

‘I think, strawberry tea with tapioca pearls..'

‘It’s so good thank you,’ He kissed your cheek and lips- you could tell he was trying to be chaste.

You kissed back with more passion, coaxing him, you could feel him breathing hard as his tongue swiped over you lips- asking for permission. You pulled back quickly, smiling when you saw his ears turn pink,

‘Don’t you have work to do?’ You wiggled on his lap, holding your identical cup in both hands, ‘I’ll be here’

He growled at you playfully,

‘You’re gonna pay for that’

‘Sure I will,’ A mischievous lilt in your voice.

He laughed but swivelled back to face his monitors, slipping the headphones on he looked at you once and scoffed when he saw you contently sipping away at your drink. You looked up at him, and smiled from around the straw- hoping it would spark some memories, luckily it did as you saw his eyes turn dark and his breathing became heavier. Paying no attention to his dangerous stare you snuggled up to his chest, careful not to sit directly on where you knew he wanted you to.

A few hours later

You had finished your drink quickly and were now hugging Chan-koala bear style, your chin resting on his shoulder, headphones in whilst listening to whatever song was in your playlist- you honestly couldn’t be bothered about the songs when chan’s fingers were playing dragging up and down you bare legs, inching closer and closer to the hem of your flimsy gym shorts. You were sure that he wasn’t even paying attention to where his fingers were heading but either way you were getting more and more desperate for his touch,

‘Channie..’ you reached behind you and paused your music and took out your headphones, going back to your original position as you played with the loose strands of hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck.

‘Hmm?’ His eyes did a quick glance at you and went back to the track displayed on the largest monitor in front of him.

You shifted, perching yourself right on top of his now semi-hard cock, ‘Are you done yet?’ slowly you started grinding yourself on the material of his short, aching to feel him drag against your walls.

He looked down at you again, taking in how your head was now lulled lazily against his shoulder, your hands still playing with his hair- but your hips..God your hips, he could feel you slowly grinding them against him, ‘Baby..I need to finish this one track..’ he smiled down at you and laughed when he saw your needy pout,

‘But channie~’ You whined, Jesus how much does this man work?

‘Aw, is my baby needy for my cock?’ he cooed down at you, smiling softly as you nodded - tucking your head into the crook of his neck when your whole face turned red. He could feel your hips start to press down onto his dick, and it was only a matter of time until he was going to burst,

‘Ok baby get up,’ he held your hand is you got up slowly, he sighed out when he saw a wet patch right on top of where you were grinding on him,

‘Tsk tsk, you couldn’t wait for me for even a few hours? Are really that desperate?’

‘Sorry ..’ you looked at him while keeping your eyes on the ground, you felt like a child being scolded, He laughed at you,

‘Don’t worry , go get that blanket from the sofa’ Whilst you went behind him to grab the blanket, he quickly dragged his now slightly damp shorts from down his large thighs.

‘Got it-’ You stopped short when you saw him sitting there, thighs spread and cock sanding proud against his stomach, he reached for your hand that wasn’t holding the soft blanket and brought you between his legs,

‘I still need to finish this track, can you keep me warm?’ He looked up at you,

‘Yea,’ You breathed out- your vision zoned into his member that was now leaking from the top, you longed to get down on you knees and lick it away, so you did.

Before he could question what you were doing, you got down between his thighs and slipped him into you mouth, the blanket long forgotten on the floor- your confidence ebbed higher when you heard him gasp sharply and involuntarily thrust into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly,

‘Shit-’ gasp ‘Baby, baby what are you-’ You took him down as far as you could, hoping to relive the pleasure you felt a few minutes ago, when his cock prodded against your throat, ‘What are you doing?’ he asked between gasps, ‘Fuck’ He dragged out the word when you finally got him down your throat, all the way- until your nose touched his abdomen. You waited to see how long you could take it, the pleasure you were feeling right now between your legs was enough to over power the gag reflex- so much that chan had grit out,

‘Baby i’m gonna cum, and I swear to God you will not have one orgasm for the whole week if you make me cum right now’

You wanted to ignore his threat, to make him shoot his cum across your face- but you knew that he would stay true to it if you didn’t relieve him from your throat’s confines. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care- you looked up at him, his eyes holding a warning, but you eyes carried more; a promise. You let yourself off of his dick, only long enough for him to think you obeyed him- but just as he was about to grab you for a kiss you went back down, you smiled as his jaw went slack and his eyes rolled back to his head- a choked moan left his mouth and his hand threaded into your hair as you bobbed your head, wrapping you hand around the remaining part of him that you couldn’t swallow, he told you between moans that he was about to cum- you gurgled around him yet you brough your head up, spit strings follow you. You giggled when you saw his tip twitch but nothing come out, Chan was sweaty all over and mad,

‘Get up.’ You obeyed this time, letting your spit drip from your chin on his thighs as you crawled up to his face, letting your thighs encircle his waist and folding your legs underneath.

‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ You nodded your head, trying to keep your eyes on his- but they kept flicking down to his lips, he breathed out a laugh, ‘If you think i’m going to make this experience enjoyable, think again- if you didn’t try that stunt right now like the needy slut you are, I would have probably fucked you right here.’ You whimpered slightly when he gathered your hair in his hand and brought your face millimetres away from his, so close that you could feel his breath on your lips- yet his eyes just skimmed up and down you face, ‘Now your gonna sit on daddy’s cock, and you’re not allowed to cum. Ok baby?’

You gulped but didn’t say anything, you merely whimpered out, ‘Yes daddy..’

‘Good girl,’ He finally brought your lips together, caressing them with his tongue- once again asking for permission; this time you didn’t deny him and let his tongue aggressively explore your mouth. After what felt like mere seconds he pulled away, both of you were panting and when chan gripped your hips harshly, you could tell that you were in for it.

Slowly he dragged you down until he was lined up to your opening, just before you sunk down onto his length he whispered in your ear,

‘And if you’re a good girl this time, i’ll fuck your pussy full of my cum,’ He gave you a wolfish grin and slammed you down onto his cock.

‘Shit!’ You gasped out when you felt him inside of you, you felt so..full, so very full. Chan laughed when you moaned and wriggled- but his hands clamped down on your hips,

‘Remember what I said pretty girl, the only way your slutty pussy is getting used tonight is to be my own personal cum dump’

You whimpered but stayed still, that was until he his thumb started to rub against your clit, you inhaled through you teeth,

‘Chan- Channie please, lemme cum.’ That just made him rub faster,

‘Baby, I thought I was clear- this pretty little pussy won’t be cumming tonight, maybe if you’re good..’ He trailed off and looked you in the eyes.

‘But-’

‘I need to finish this track, okay baby? Will you be good for me?’

‘Yes..’ Your gasped when a sharp sting of pleasure shot up from your clit....he just slapped your pussy,

‘Yes..who?’

You squealed when he pinched your swollen bud between his fingers,

‘Yes daddy’ you said between pants.

‘Good girl’ He kissed your head and bent down to grab the discarded blanket, ‘Don’t want anyone seeing how you’re being such a whore, do we now?’ You could barely speak, since even the slightest movement caused him to shift inside you, ‘mm, no- no daddy.’

He laughed at your needy expression,

‘Now lemme work’ He spread the blanket over you and kept a hand over your ass whilst he mindlessly clicked away on the screen in front of him.

Now all you had to do was wait..

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whatsnewalycat · 9 months

Text

Designated Person | Chapter 8

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 8: Invitation

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 10.3k+

Content / Warnings: Frankie POV, infidelity, past romantic & sexual relationship, angst, food, AA meeting mention, jealousy, alcoholism, lying, conflict avoidance, crying, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, internal conflict, suggestion of sexual assault, trauma response, verbal argument, we're gonna pretend i know what i'm talking about w the criminal justice system but lets be real i don't

Notes: HEY HI! First of all big thanks to @frannyzooey for beta reading for me, I appreciate you with all my heart. Ok so up until a few days ago, this chapter was going to be this plus the birthday party. But I made an executive decision I think it will be better. So here's this and just know I already have a pretty solid head start on the next chapter lol. ANYWAY let me know what you think, ok love u bye.

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“…Happy birthday, dear Sarah, happy birthday to you!”

Sarah’s pudgy little feet patter in place on the seat of the dining room chair. Frankie rubs her back and says, “Blow out the candles!”

“Wait sweetie, let me just,” Angie scoops Sarah’s long chestnut curls into a bundle, “Ok go ahead.”

She leans over the small, two-tiered cake and blows them out one at a time.

“One… Two… Fwee… Four!”

All three of them cheer as the ribbons of black smoke dissipate into the air. Sarah claps her hands and squeals, looking up at her parents with big, sparkling eyes. Frankie can’t wipe the smile from his face. His heart aches with adoration.

While Ang plucks the spent candles from the cake and cuts it into sixteenths, Frankie takes a seat next to his daughter and asks, “Did you have a good day today?”

“Yes,” Sarah nods, watching her mom slip a chef’s knife under the biggest slice of cake and plop it onto a plate. Angie slides the plate in front of her and gives her a fork.

“What was your favorite part?” he asks.

“Ummm,” Sarah stabs the chocolate sponge cake with her fork and manages to tear off a wobbly chunk, “The penguins.”

“The penguins! I never woulda guessed,” Frankie chuckles, glancing up at Angie when she hands him a plate, “Thanks, hun.”

Sarah carves a line into the air with her nose, a smile digging out dimples in her chubby cheeks.

“Got to stay at the aquarium for a long time today, huh? What kind of penguins did we see?”

“Mmm,” she pauses her attack on the cake to scrunch her face up and think about this, then resumes as she tells him, “King penguin… rockhopper penguin… emperor penguin… little penguin…”

“So many penguins!” he grins.

She giggles, “Yes.”

“And then we got pizza, and opened presents, and now we’re having cake.”

She wriggles around in her seat and giggles some more, “Yes.”

“That’s a good birthday, huh?”

Sarah nods and plunges a finger into the pink strawberry frosting.

“Use your fork, sweetie,” Angie reminds her, taking a seat adjacent to Frankie.

Sarah sticks her finger in her mouth to clean off the frosting, then obediently picks up the fork.

“What should we do after cake?” he asks Sarah before taking a bite.

The little girl hums thoughtfully, tapping one confectionary-coated finger to her chin, “We can… watch Happy Feet?”

Her big, dark eyes sparkle, a mirror of his own, and Frankie grins from her to Angie, “What do you think, Mama, should we watch Happy Feet after cake?”

She checks the smartwatch on her wrist and shrugs, “Sure, we can watch it for a bit before dropping Daddy off.”

A pleased smile spreads across Sarah’s face as she digs her fork into the cake. Frankie turns his attention to his own plate, and a content silence falls over the table as the three of them eat.

The silence is broken when Sarah asks, “Daddy, why don’t you sleep here anymore?”

He stops chewing and looks over at Angie, who just tilts her head at him like she, too, would like to know the answer to this question.

“Well,” he swallows a mouthful of cake and clears his throat, “Daddy, uhh… Daddy did something bad and got in trouble with the police.”

She frowns at her cake, seeming to consider this, then looks up at him, “Like when you and Mommy were fighting?”

The response zaps him. Stuns him. His lips part to respond, but he finds himself speechless.

What the fuck is she talking about?

He combs through his memory and hits a snag.

They just got back from some kind of a trip. Ang was giving him the cold shoulder. He recalls drinking in the garage, fuming by himself, trying to work up the courage to confront her. Yelling. Not just him, though, Angie too. Both of them just fucking screaming at each other. Blue and red lights outside. Doorbell. Cops.

The scraps of his memory bind together and he remembers… it wasn’t a trip they all went on together. It was just Angie and Sarah. Not a fun vacation, either. More of a spur-of-the-moment trip to her parents’ house in Texas, inspired by his recently uncovered infidelity.

Wasn’t Sarah sleeping? How the fuck does she remember that?

Frankie shifts in his seat, glancing at Angie, whose face is inscrutable, then back to Sarah, “No. Well, kind of, I guess. Except worse. They took me to jail.”

Her dark eyes go wide, “But bad guys go to jail.”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Leaning forward onto the table, he presses his fingertips to his lips and watches her sponge-like brain absorb this information. He’s getting into the weeds. Keep it simple.

“They let me go, but now I have to have a babysitter like you do. That’s why I don’t sleep here,” he reaches over and tucks a loose ringlet behind her ear, “Does that make sense?”

Her brow furrows, “Is Chacha your babysitter?”

Jesus fucking Christ, this kid. Asking all the right questions to make him squirm.

“Yeah,” he nods, “Yeah, she’s pretty much my babysitter now—”

Angie scoffs.

He shoots her a sharp glance, “Until we know how much trouble I’m in, at least.”

“I saw Chacha at the park,” Sarah informs him, as if he wasn’t there.

The nickname makes him chuckle. She hasn’t used it in forever, now twice in one night?

When he thinks about how your face will light up when he shares this news with you, warmth sparks in his guts.

“You did see Chacha at the park,” he gives Sarah’s arm a playful pinch, “She told me she was happy to see you, and that she misses you.”

At this, Sarah giggles, dimples and all.

And, at this, Angie shoves her chair out behind her and stomps out of the kitchen. Like a fucking child.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

The thought strikes him square between the eyes. Brief, but distinct. He sweeps it under the rug of his mind to deal with later.

“Mommy don’t like her,” Sarah tells him in a loud whisper when the bedroom door slams closed.

He has to stifle laughter.

“Don’t worry about that, princesa,” he waves off the petulant outburst, leaning in to ask, “Would you like it if Chacha came to your birthday party?”

Sarah studies him for a moment. When the question registers, she smiles wide and nods, “Yes.”

“I’ll talk to Mommy about it later, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Whaddaya think, should we finish our cake in the living room? Put on Happy Feet?”

She giggles, hopping off the chair to spin in circles and clap her hands.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he snorts.

Once the birthday girl is sufficiently distracted, Frankie follows his wife’s warpath to their bedroom. He pauses at the closed door, hand hovering over the shiny knob, grimacing at what will follow.

Did Sarah hear their whole argument that night?

What else does she remember?

Does she remember the days he’d call off work to take the two of you to the butterfly house? Or how he would sneak up behind you when you were cooking and kiss your neck? Does she remember you scrambling out of the house, half-naked, gasping for air, while Frankie held Angie back?

Probably not.

Hopefully not.

He takes a deep breath and twists the knob, pushing the door open.

Inside, Angie is sitting at the foot of the bed, texting furiously. Frankie enters the room, closing the door behind him. He approaches cautiously and sits down beside her. Brings his hand to the small of her back.

She doesn’t acknowledge his presence.

“Amor,” he murmurs, sliding his palm up and down her rigid spine, “You can’t get pissed at me every time she comes up in conversation. It’s not—”

He cuts himself off with a thick gulp.

This catches her attention. She tosses her phone aside and blinks, “It’s not what? Not fair? Is that what you were gonna say?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Ang,” he shakes his head, leg bouncing, “It puts me in a weird spot. Whether you like it or not, she’s a part of my life—”

“Oh, for fucks sake—”

“And—and Sarah, she picks up on that, you know? That you don’t like her—”

“I don’t give a shit if she knows I hate that bitch, Francisco,” Angie spits, “Why shouldn’t I, huh? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t.”

Answers deadlock his throat.

Because I care about her, and Sarah cares about her, and she cares about us. Because she has helped me more than any other human has, more times than I deserve. Because she saved my life, and you should be fucking grateful.

The thought makes him shiver as it replays.

You should be fucking grateful.

He tries to bypass the question, clearing his throat before taking Angie’s soft hand and meeting her eyes, “I know this arrangement has been hard for you.”

Her features sharpen. She pulls away and crosses her arms in front of her chest. Unease rings out his stomach.

But a sense of familiarity dawns on him, too.

It reminds him of conversations he’s had with you the past two months. Those “State of the Union” discussions that loom, dark and terrifying, but end up making him feel ten pounds lighter when they’re all said and done with.

And, fuck, he wants this to feel better. Wants to be in the same room as his wife and not feel like he’s walking on the razor’s edge.

“Hey,” he takes back her hand, “Stick with me, ok? We can talk about this.”

Angie glares at him, but waits.

“We are friends. That is it. Just like Santi and Benny and Will—”

“Remind me, did you fuck any of them?”

I don’t want to do this anymore.

He stares back into her piercing gaze, with pleading eyes, “Ang.”

Her jaw clenches and she shakes her head, but doesn’t storm off or start screaming at him, so he continues.

“I know I fucked up by having sex with her. It was—It was a mistake.”

Angie’s features soften. Relief floods his veins, warm and buzzing and sedative. Like the first drink at the end of a stressful day.

And, much like when he would finish his first drink, he aches for more.

“It was impulsive. I was so fucking numb, I needed to feel something, and she was around. I’m not, you know, into her, or attracted to her—”

Angie scoffs.

“I know it sounds like bullshit. I know,” he squeezes her hand, “But if I could go back in time and do anything over, it would be that day.”

She studies him, eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

“It didn’t mean anything, amor. I love you. I mean, fuck, I’m here, aren’t I? I’m trying.”

Her shoulders slump. She swallows hard and looks down at the floor. Her nails twitch against his palm and the rush it gives him flips his stomach upside down.

“I’m sorry, Ang.”

“You’re sorry you got caught.”

“I’m sorry I betrayed you. I’m sorry I broke your trust. I’m sorry I was so fucked in the head I found comfort in someone else. I took you for granted, and I’m so sorry.”

Angie lets out a little sob. He should feel remorse. At the very least, he should feel something other than sick satisfaction at her finally breaking. Just a little bit more. Almost there.

“But that day is behind us now, and what I have with her is entirely platonic. She has Rory, and I have you, and we are friends. She’s helping me out right now by giving me a place to live, and driving me places while my license is suspended, and just being… a really, really good friend to me. I know that’s hard for you, and I’m sorry that it makes you uncomfortable, but I promise that’s all it is.”

“I hate it.”

“I know,” he nods, pulling her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, “I know, baby. I just need you to trust that I’m doing this for you and Sarah. The two of you are everything to me. I love you.”

Angie sniffles and straightens her spine, then looks over at Frankie, “Can you promise me something?”

Her warm gaze is glossy and full of emotion. He leans into it, answering, “Anything.”

“When the trial is over, and you leave her house—I don’t want you to talk to her ever again.”

It sobers him instantly.

He pulls back, shaking his head, “Ang, I can’t—”

A fire comes to life in her eyes.

“If you give a single fuck about our family, you can and you will. You told me your friendship with her is a means to an end. Is that still true, or no?”

Slowly, he nods, but it feels wrong. The dull blade of guilt rips his belly open.

This isn’t what was supposed to happen.

“Then you cut ties with her when this is done. Do that for me and I will put my feelings about her aside.”

That’s what Angie tells him, but what he understands is this is a reprieve. A stopgap. It buys him some time to figure out what the fuck he’s going to do because—

I don’t want to do this anymore.

He swallows the thought down with a thick gulp and says, “Alright.”

Angie blesses him with a peacemaking smile.

Despite his churning stomach, he returns the smile and squeezes her hand, “Can… Can you do me a favor, though?”

“What?”

“Let me invite her and Rory to Sarah’s party.”

She stares at him like she doesn’t understand, then scoffs, “No.”

“Why not?”

Jumping to her feet, she shouts, “Because she fucked you in our bed, Frankie, do I really have to explain that?”

He stands too, “You just said you’re putting those feelings aside, and she’ll be with her boyfriend, I don’t understand what the big deal—”

“Why does she even want to go?” Angie crosses her arms and scowls.

“She misses Sarah. And Sarah obviously misses her, too. I mean, you heard her at the table earlier.” Frankie approaches her, placing his hands on her waist, searching her face, “I’m with you, amor. I promise. This would just mean a lot to both of them. Especially if they won’t be able to see each other again.”

She softens a little. Her jaw ticks to the side, then she sighs, “Fine.”

He represses the smile from his lips and murmurs, “Thank you,” before pressing a kiss into her forehead.

She hooks her hands behind his neck and drops her eyes to his mouth. His pulse jumps as she captures his lips in hers, alive and wanting. The sugary sweetness of strawberry frosting makes his taste buds perk up and want more.

Her long, red nails work into the curls at the nape of his neck, scratching that deep, aching itch for her favor. That’s the thing about Angie. She gives her affection sparingly, and when he earns it, it feels so fucking good.

He can’t remember the last time she touched him like this, with enthusiasm and hunger.

It was before he quit drinking. Before the failed attempts at marriage counseling. Before Angie came home from work early and caught her husband fucking the nanny.

It’s strange how something as trivial as early dismissal can alter the trajectory of so many lives. His own path seems to be an infinite freefall, always bracing for impact but never meeting the ground.

Drinking more. Fighting more. Pushing you away again and again and again while trying to transplant these feelings into the right relationship.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

Especially now, when Angie kisses him, and all he can think about is your lips, your tongue, soft and slick and writhing on his. The heel of your hand kneading against his stiffening cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, eyelids fluttering open to meet her gaze, not yours.

He wishes it was you.

But he closes his eyes and lets her guide him back to their bed, settling for the next best thing.

Frankie hears the buzz of an incoming text message from his pants pocket. He kisses Angie’s sweaty forehead and departs from her body, snatching the discarded jeans off the floor.

> MARIPOSA: > Rory is over here fyi, let me know when you’re on your way

A nagging, confusing spring of jealousy bubbles up in his chest. Something else, too. Like guilt, but deeper. An infection festering away inside him.

“I should get going before the birthday girl falls asleep. I don’t wanna have to wake her.”

“Can’t you stay?” Angie asks, stroking his arm, “I mean, really, Francisco. Your PO won’t ship you off to jail for spending the night with your wife, will he?”

Her gentle touch is a branding iron on his skin. Searing. Territorial. He has to stop himself from lurching away.

He slides his pants back on and shrugs, “I don’t really wanna find out.”

“So fucked up.”

“I know, baby,” Frankie fishes his shirt off the foot of the bed, tugging it over his head, “I have to, I’m sorry.”

She releases a sigh and pulls her shirt back on, “Oh, don’t forget, on Thursday my parents will be here.”

Nodding, he stretches his arms above his head. How could he forget?

“Try to get along with my dad.”

He rolls his eyes before turning to face her, “Tell him the same, yeah?”

She snorts and fastens her jean shorts, raising an eyebrow, “I will, but you know how he is. Don’t take his bait.”

Frankie grunts in response while buckling his belt. Fully dressed, they meet at the door. Angie looks him over, giving him a rare warm smile before telling him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She kisses him, and he places that rotten feeling: shame.

Frankie walks up the cement path, craning his head up towards the cloudless sapphire evening sky, admiring the way it contrasts the tangerine siding of your post stamp of a house. The sun hangs just at the horizon, and its absence lends relief from the stagnant July heat.

It’s a nice night, but he’s still a little surprised to find you and Rory are sitting out on the front porch swing, his arm draped around your shoulder with you all tucked into his side. Sure, it may be better than coming home to your closed bedroom door, with just the indistinguishable murmur of your voices to drive him crazy, but still… not ideal.

The sight causes something deep within Frankie’s chest to clench and pulse, growling, “MINE.”

Fuck, he couldn’t be more a hypocrite.

“Whatta we have here, a couple of swingers?” he jokes while climbing the front steps.

It’s a bad joke, and in poor taste given the circumstances, but the sneer on Rory’s lips gives him a rush of satisfaction.

Conversely, you light up when you see him. Your smile is fucking luminous. A goddamn heat lamp. He feels himself melting into the floorboards.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You sit up and put a little space between Rory’s body and yours, “Hey! How’d it go?”

“Good,” he crosses his arms, leaning against the banister with a shrug, “Went to see the penguins, had pizza, presents, cake, all that.”

“Did she like her gift?”

“She loved it. She said she’s going to sleep with it tonight—Oh, that reminds me—Ang gave the green light for you two to come to her party on Saturday if you still want to.”

“Holy shit, really?” you ask, eyes widening, then chuckle and shake your head, “Sorry, I’m just surprised. She really said that’s ok?”

“Yeah,” he smiles despite the guilt condensing in his stomach, and asks Rory, “Know if you can make it?”

Rory’s head jerks back a little, and he frowns, “Well, this is the first time I’m hearing about it. But, yeah. I have nothing else going on,” he looks at you, “If that’s ok.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Your words come out airy and unconvincing. Rory studies your face.

Frankie calls your attention back to him, “Guess what she called you earlier.”

You avert your gaze from Rory’s, tucking your hair behind your ear before you chuckle, “Oh god, did she learn it from her mother?”

He laughs at this, shaking his head, “No, she called you Chacha.”

“Shut the fuck up, did she really?” you gasp.

Frankie nods, “Hand to god.”

You sit with this for a few gleeful seconds before your smile falters, and you say, “I miss her.”

“She misses you, too,” he tells you, “She’ll be happy to see you this weekend.”

You nod, then look to Rory, whose mouth is flattened into an unamused line. He stares at you a beat too long for comfort. The air around the porch swing seems tense.

Frankie glances between you and Rory, then clears his throat and says, “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair.”

You mumble a brief, distracted, “Oh, ok,” before he walks into the house.

As he closes the door and leans back against it to untie his work boots, he hears you ask, “What?”

Both the sharpness in your voice and its volume make Frankie halt. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the curtains rustle from a light breeze. Quietly, he pulls his boots off and sets them on the shoe tray. Morbid curiosity keeps him rooted in place, barely breathing as he listens in on your conversation.

“You didn’t tell me we were invited to his kid’s birthday party.”

“He said he would ask, but I wasn’t going to invite you until I knew for sure whether or not we could go.”

More silence, then your voice again, “Oh my god, what is your problem?”

“I don’t like how you are with him.”

“How I ‘am’ with him? What the hell does that mean?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t, could you explain it to me?”

Rory pauses for a beat, then says, “You’re flirting, both of you, right in front of me. I don’t like it. And—and I want it to stop.”

“What am I doing that you think is flirting?”

“It’s not just you—”

“What he does is irrelevant, he is his own person—”

“It’s fucking disrespectful.”

The silence that follows writhes under his skin.

This is private. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping. But he can’t bring himself to move. Some fucked up part of him wants to hear what you say to Rory about him. How do you defend yourself? Do you throw him under the bus, too?

Are you just as bad as me?

Your voice comes through the window again, metered and firm, but shaky.

“What am I doing that you consider flirting?”

Rory scoffs, then says, “It’s the way you look at him and talk to him. Always smiling at him, and joking with him, and asking him how his day went—”

“Wow, how dare I ask my roommate—my friend—how his day was.”

“That’s not what I mean. It’s—it’s—I know it when I see it, ok? There’s obviously something going on between you two.”

“Obviously,” you deadpan, “Because I smile and joke with him, and ask him how he’s doing, we are so obviously fucking. You’re totally right, Rory. You caught me.”

“He’s a fucking loser, you know that, right?”

Another long pause.

“I want you to leave.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, get the fuck off my porch.”

“I don’t have my—”

“I’ll get your shit.”

Frankie hears the porch swing creak and his heart jumps. He launches himself forward and manages to collapse on the couch as you swing the door open.

You freeze when you see him. Your eyes flick from him, to the open window, then back to him before you scoff and stomp off to your bedroom.

Rory steps into the doorway, standing at attention with his hands shoved in his pockets. Frankie stares at him. Something protective and instinctual, almost paternal, wells up inside him and fine tunes his nerve endings.

From the back hallway, you holler, “What the fuck are you doing? I told you to get the fuck off my porch.”

Frankie can’t stop himself from laughing.

Rory glares at him, “Fuck you.”

You steamroll into the room wielding a backpack and shove it into Rory’s chest, “LEAVE.”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“I sure am. Get the fuck off my property.”

Rory holds your gaze for an intense moment before turning to go. You slam the door behind him and deadbolt it, then go to the front windows and do the same with them.

“I’m—”

You hold up a hand to Frankie and exit the room. A few seconds later he hears your bedroom door click shut.

After scrubbing his skin raw in the shower and changing into pajamas more comfortable than he deserves, Frankie tries to go to sleep early, but finds himself restless.

He stares at the ceiling, at his phone, at the walls. When he hears running water in the bathroom, he wonders if you’re getting ready to go to bed. Wonders if you’re ok, and if you would accept his company.

He thinks about his wife. Her nails digging into his shoulder blades, her hot breath on his cheek. The electric squeeze of her cunt as he came inside her.

What would you do if you knew?

Would it tear you apart, or could you care less?

Fuck, why does he feel so guilty?

For the sex just as much as the tentative agreement he made.

You know he intends to stay with her, and there’s nothing going on between the two of you. Not really. Nothing certain, at least. Right?

Sure, there was the slip up the week after he moved in. And the panties. And, yeah, some flirting. Not intentional when Rory is around, despite what he may think. And maybe you got off next to each other once. Then there’s the cuddling, and the hand holding, and this deep, aching, maddening desire to spend every ounce of his free time with you. To know all of your favorite things, and your life story, and your ticks. To make you feel happy and appreciated and safe and loved.

And loved.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

His muscles and tendons vibrate with anxious energy.

It brings him to his feet and compels him to wander through the dark, silent house, into the living room, confirming its vacancy. He starts off towards your bedroom. The light from your open door slices through the dark back hallway like a beacon. Floorboards creak under his step as he makes his way towards it, and when he arrives, he leans against the door frame.

You’re stretched out horizontal across your bed, belly-side down, facing away from him, hovering over a thick book. He studies the curvature of your body, lingering on the generously exposed swathes of soft skin that lead to the hem of your shorts.

“Are you just gonna hang out in the doorway like a weirdo?” you glance over your shoulder, then back at your book.

“Sorry, I, um... I wasn’t sure if I was interrupting.”

“You’re not,” you sit up and crawl to the head of your bed, tapping the empty pillow beside you, his pillow, his spot. “Come on in.”

While he walks over to the furthest side, you plump the pillows on your side of the bed and stuff them behind your back, then resume reading.

“What’s that?” he asks as he stretches out across your bedspread.

You lift the cover to show him and sigh, “Still chipping away at Doctor Sleep.”

“It any good?”

“Terrible, that’s why I’m reading it.”

Frankie snorts and shakes his head while digging his phone from his pajama pants, “Are you doing ok?”

“Wow, you’re full of great questions tonight, huh?”

“Maybe you’re just full of sass tonight, ever think of that?”

“Doesn’t sound like me.”

He raises his eyebrows and murmurs, “No comment.”

“That’s, like, actually a comment though, in itself—”

“Weren’t you reading?”

“Weren’t you—I don’t know, reading the news or whatever dads do on their phone?”

“Looking for car parts,” he corrects.

“Same thing.”

Frankie drops his phone on his chest and looks at you, “Not even close.”

You peek around the corner of your book, “It’s like, equal levels of dad-ness, though, so basically, yeah.”

“Levels of dad-ness,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head, “You’d know something about that, huh?”

“About what, how daddy you are?” you laugh.

He shrugs, meeting your eyes. You hold his gaze, mouth cracked open in a mischievous smile, then shake your head and look back at your book, “No comment.”

Grinning like idiots, you both go back to reading and browsing, respectively, although Frankie can’t concentrate for shit with you next to him. His skin aches with the heat of your body so close.

He listens to every breath you take, every wet swallow, every microscopic wiggle bringing you closer. Minutes go by, but he doesn’t hear your page turn once.

Eventually, you let out a powerful yawn, and it spreads to him.

You grab the bookmark off your nightstand and tuck it between the open pages before closing it, “I should go to bed soon—” another yawn interrupts you, “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” he sits up, stretching his arms over his head, then looks back at you, “I’ll see you in the morning?”

Your features melt and soften, lips parting as you meet his eyes. This invisible force keeps him anchored there, tugging at his chest, urging him to move closer to you. He glances at your mouth, at the pink flash of your tongue wetting your lips.

He doesn’t want to go.

He wants to stay and kiss you breathless, to fall asleep with the warmth of your body lining his, to wake up in your bed and never fucking leave.

He wants to take back everything he said to his wife earlier today, to defend your honor like he should have, like you would do for him, like you did for him.

Fuck, he doesn’t deserve you. The hole he dug for himself is a just punishment. He needs to let you go and allow you to find peace with someone else who won’t hurt you like he has. Like he will inevitably do again.

You reach out and place your hand on his arm, thumb grazing his tingling, heated skin, “Do you want to stay?”

The contact floods him with feel-good chemicals that his hungry synapses gobble up.

“I, umm—”

His throat swallows around his thudding pulse. It fucking hurts how bad he wants you right now. He finds himself leaning back on his elbow, gravitating closer to you, resting his hand in the dip of your waist as you roll on your side to face him.

“Is that a good idea?” he asks.

“Probably not,” you search his face, your gaze catching on his mouth.

His heart skitters and he doesn’t really notice that his fingertips dig into your side until your whole body shivers in reaction. Doesn’t really notice he’s been inching closer to you until your breath grazes his lips.

The sound of your ringtone cuts through the thick air between your bodies.

You sit up and shake your head, trance broken, then reach for the source of the noise with shaky hands, “It’s Rachel. She’s full bridezilla mode, this might take a while.”

“Ok,” he nods, “I’ll go.”

You look over at him, apologies written all over your face. An impulse yanks hard on his body and urges him forward. Before he can talk himself out of it, he slips a hand behind your head and pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips are soft and warm, fucking perfect, just how he remembers. They barely have time to respond before he draws back and tells you, “Goodnight.”

You watch him crawl out of your bed, stunned silent for a moment, then answer the phone, “Hey, Rach—what’s wrong?”

Frankie glances up at you as he closes the door behind him, and sees you tracing the dumbfounded smile on your lips.

When he turns out the lights in his room and crawls under the covers, even though he knows damn well he won’t find sleep for hours, he does the same.

Frankie is at work, elbows deep in the engine compartment of a Bell 407, when the call from his attorney comes.

“Your case is on the docket,” the voicemail tells him when he returns to his small, shared office space, “Trial is scheduled for Wednesday, September 6th. We might still be able to find a favorable plea deal, so I’ll get working on that, but either way, I’d like to set up a call with you early next week to discuss your options moving forward. Give me a call when you get this, thanks.”

He takes a seat at his desk and stares at his phone for a minute, then replays the message to make sure he heard correctly. He did.

The earth tilts.

Everything seems to crumble as reality dawns on him. All he can see are cold steel prison cell bars and stiff orange jumpsuits. Angie’s words from the other night echo in his head:

“When the trial is over, when you leave her house—I don’t want you to talk to her ever again.”

A vast, unshakable hollowness overtakes him.

Or… or maybe it’s the opposite.

Maybe he’s so heavy and full he’s just sinking deeper and deeper into the dark, endless pit of his mistakes, down, down, down…

He unlocks his phone to return his lawyer’s call, but pauses when he tastes the salt of his own tears. Confused, he wipes his eyes and stares down at his damp hand.

Frankie just sits there for a moment, watching tears splatter onto his palms, stunned. When did he start crying? Why did he start crying?

He knew it was just a matter of time before the consequences of his actions became real. Now it’s happening and he’s blubbering like a baby.

I need to get my shit together.

He stands and shoves his phone in his pocket, shaking out his hands.

A string tugs at his chest, leading him to Michael’s desk. He watches the closed door as he carefully pulls open a drawer. Inside, he finds a half-empty bottle of whiskey. The string pulls taut, urging him to do it.

He thinks about Angie. How her sour attitude always poisons his mind. How this thing between them feels so distant, so vacuous, he doesn’t know how he will ever restore it.

He thinks about Sarah. How much he’s failed her as a father. He thinks about his own father and wonders if it’s pointless for him to keep resisting fate. Was it always going to be like this for him? Does it matter if he tries to be better, or is this all futile?

He thinks about you. His chest aches and he feels tears burn behind his eyes again. He wishes you were here. You’d know what to say or do to make him feel better.

Frankie takes the cell phone from his pocket and dials your number. He glances up at the door again as the line rings.

“Hey,” you answer, sounding slightly confused, “What’s up?”

Kids squeal in the background as he tries to find his voice. Words catch in his throat, the only thing that comes out is a rasp. A sob. He’s fully crying now. Staring at the whiskey.

“Frankie, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

Your concern is audible. It reaches through the phone and coaxes him to speak.

“I, um,” he swallows hard and shakes his head, “I don’t know. I’m kind of freaking out right now.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“I just got my court date,” he sniffles, clears his throat, then says, “I feel… hopeless.”

“Where are you?”

On your end of the world, Frankie hears a door click shut and the chaotic background noise becomes muted.

“In my office.”

“What’re you doing?”

He pauses, so you repeat the question.

“I’m staring at a bottle of whiskey,” he admits quietly. Just a whisper.

“Ok,” you breathe, and he can hear your mind start to whiz into action, “Ok. Did you drink any of it?”

“Not yet.”

“Thank fuck,” a sigh of relief crackles in his ear, “Ok, that’s good. Good job. Can I come get you? I—I mean, do you want me to come get you now? Because I can—”

“No, sweetheart,” his eyes flick to the ceiling, trance broken, and he pushes the drawer closed, “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I will—”

He turns towards his desk, “No, really, it’s ok—“

“Oh my fucking god,” you huff, “Look, I am responsible for you. Not only that, but I—I care about you, Frankie. I need to know that you’re safe. And dry.”

Warmth sprouts up beneath his sternum and branches out under his rib cage.

“And—and it’s ok if the answer is no, because I can just come get you and bring you h-home,” you stumble a little on the last word, but you recover quickly, “Are you safe?”

“Yeah. I just needed to, um,” he turns and leans back against the desk, pressing his fingertips to his mouth, then drops them and says, “Thanks for picking up.”

“You promise you’re not falling off the wagon?”

“I promise.”

“Good,” you say, your sweet, soft voice tinged with a smile, “If you’re lying to me, though, I’m gonna break your thumbs.”

“Break my thumbs?” he chuckles.

“Yeah, you know how many bottles you can lift with broken thumbs? None.”

He snorts and shakes his head, “Alright, alright. Don’t get out your vice grips just yet, buster.”

You laugh and Frankie feels his heart swell with adoration. There’s a bit of an awkward pause when your laughter fades out, then you murmur, “Thank you for calling me. Instead of… you know.”

“Yeah.”

“Still need me to pick you up from your meeting later?”

“If that still works for you.”

“Of course it does,” you coo, and he can hear the smile in your voice again when you say, “So, about my movie pick for tonight...”

He grins, “Uh-huh. You got a good one?”

“Well, the thing is, I was going to pick The Shawshank Redemption, but that seems a bit too topical now—”

Laughter bubbles up Frankie’s throat, and he shakes his head, “Hey, maybe it’ll give me some pointers for tunneling my way out of a prison.”

“That is so true. In that case, maybe I’ll keep it. We’ll see,” you chuckle, “Ok, well… I’ll see you tonight, then?”

“I’ll be there.”

When Frankie sees your car pull up to the strip mall coffee shop that holds his Friday night meeting, a few thoughts populate his head almost instantaneously.

At the very forefront is the reminder that he kissed you.

It was a peck, really, just a quick kiss goodnight. But for three days, the first thought on his mind when he sees you or thinks about you or breathes or does anything really is that he fucking kissed you.

After being notified of his court date, Frankie should only be thinking up ways to see minimal jail time. But every time he finds a still moment, before anything else, he pictures you sitting on your bed, rubbing your lips and smiling as he leaves your room.

The thought that follows this one, on par for the past three days, is that he fucked Angie.

Has anyone ever felt this fucking terrible about having sex with his wife?

Then, on top of that, he said shitty things about you and let Angie do the same. He knows he didn’t just betray you, but he betrayed himself, too. It wasn’t just wrong, it was disingenuous. That knowledge fills him with a heaviness so profound, at times he thinks it might break him.

Which brings up the last thought that shotguns through his head following the kiss, then Angie:

I don’t want to do this anymore.

What “this” is, he hasn’t quite figured out yet. His marriage? His obsession with you? Sobriety? Life itself?

Fuck, all of the above?

All he knows is he means it, and that “this” is not sustainable.

He built a timebomb with no countdown. If he concentrates hard enough he can hear it ticking in his bones, whispering in his ear:

I don’t want to do this anymore.

Frankie opens the passenger door to your car and sits down, closing it behind him, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you throw the car into reverse, craning your neck around to check for oncoming traffic, “How was your meeting?”

“It was… good, actually,” he stretches out in the seat and shrugs, “Yeah. I, uhh, I think I needed that today.”

“Yeah?” you glance over at him, “So your opinion that it’s, and I quote, ‘total bullshit’ has shifted a bit?”

He chuckles, “I guess so.”

“Wow, look at you. A changed man,” you smirk, “You’re almost two months sober, you know that?”

“Feels like centuries,” he taps his lips, then tells you, “But also days, sometimes. I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“Is it getting easier?”

Not at all.

The thought surfaces from the hungry part of his brain. The beast that just wants and wants and wants, regardless of the cost. But that’s not necessarily accurate, even though it’s the loudest part of him.

“Sometimes,” he admits, “Sometimes I can’t imagine being that person again. And—and sometimes all I want to do is drink until I don’t care about anything anymore.”

“But the meetings help?”

“Yeah, they do.”

“What step are you on?”

“Well… I haven’t actually started the steps. So, zero.” Before you can ask, he adds, “I don’t know why. I should. I mean, I’ve been thinking about it.”

You nod in acknowledgement, then a few seconds pass before you tell him, “Last time I talked to Ralph, he suggested I check out an Al-Anon meeting.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking about doing it,” you glance between him and the road, “Would that be weird?”

“I don’t think it would be weird at all,” he answers, tapping his fingers against his knee.

“Really?”

“It might be helpful, talking to other people in similar… situations, I guess.”

“Ok. Well, yeah, maybe I’ll check it out.”

“You should,” he gives your arm a playful pinch.

A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Your hand moves towards his, then the fingers curl back and you mutter, “Sorry,” before returning it to the steering wheel.

Frankie studies your face, watching your jaw gnash around like you’re chewing on your goddamn tongue again. He lays out his hand, palm facing up on the center console.

You look at it, then release your white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel to place your hand in his.

Once you do, he interlaces your fingers and pulls your clasped hands to rest on his leg. His thumb absentmindedly works against your skin as he looks out the window at storefronts and restaurants rolling past. And, for the first time all day, he feels sated and calm, like he knows everything will turn out ok.

As the end credits to Moulin Rouge! run, Frankie looks down at you sleeping peacefully with your head on his lap. He rubs your arm, murmuring, “Sweetheart.”

You wake with a start, jolting upright, and clamber to the other end of the couch. Your wide, frightened eyes glow with the ambient light of the TV. Every muscle in your body is rigid and guarded. You look like a cornered animal.

“Hey,” he holds up a hand, “It’s just me.”

It takes a moment for you to recognize him and your surroundings, but when you do, you slacken, burying your face in your hands, and release a sob.

He stares at you, afraid to move, not wanting to rattle you further. A minute goes by like this, while you cry and he sits there frozen and uncertain.

“Sorry,” you sit up and wipe your eyes, shaking your head, “That was fucking weird I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. It’s ok.”

“Ok,” you stand on shaky legs, “Well, goodnight.”

When you walk past him, he calls out, “Hey, wait,” and grabs your hand, “Are you ok?”

You don’t say anything, but you don’t pull away, either. For a moment he doesn’t even think you’re breathing. When your breath returns, it’s a sob that racks your body. You shake your head and choke out, “No.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

You nod, so he stands and follows you to your room. The lights stay off as he crawls into bed beside you, ushering you into his arms. You feel so warm there, fit so perfectly, even with your stuffed panda bear cuddled into your chest.

When he thinks about your nightmares, your panic attacks, the times like this when you seem stuck somewhere far away, he desperately wants to know who did this to you.

He can connect the dots. He doesn’t need you to tell him the gory details. If he could put a name and a face to the scars in your psyche, though…

He cuts his thoughts short, not wanting to see all the methods of vengeance his volatile brain can come up with. Not with you right here, safe in his embrace, drifting to sleep.

The long, slow breaths expanding and contracting your rib cage lull him into a hypnotic state, and sleep comes to him easily, the way it only does when he’s with you.

Frankie wakes in your bed at dawn.

Eyes still closed, he frowns when a breeze slices through the thick, stagnant air and cools his skin.

He mutters to himself, “You stole the goddamn blanket again, didn’t you?”

One eye peaks open and confirms his suspicion. At some point overnight, you managed to twist yourself up into a cocoon on the opposite side of the bed.

“Hmm?”

The noise is muffled and groggy. He chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing. Go back to bed.”

The heap jiggles a little. Your hand pokes out from underneath it and grabs around for him. He scoots closer, peeling back a poofy duvet layer to reveal your serene, still mostly sleeping face. You wince at the dull light of day, but a smile ticks across your lips when you make contact with him, smoothing your palm against the heat of his chest before worming your way into his arms. He pulls the blanket with you, draping it over himself, even though the air is hot and soupy, just to feel your warmth because it’s yours.

You mumble something into his shirt. The words all stick together when they dribble from your comatose lips and he can’t make out a single one.

He smirks, “What’s that?”

This time, you tilt your head to the ceiling, notching the crown of your head between his collar and jaw, smacking your mouth a few times before repeating yourself.

This time, he understands.

“IIiii love you.”

His heart skitters electric through his fingertips.

He tries to keep his countenance calm when he peaks down at you. Your eyes are closed, breath passing through your slack lips in long, halting strokes. One foot in the door of consciousness, if that.

Fuck it.

“I love you, too.”

Every synapse in his brain shoots off like the grand finale of a fireworks display when he says it. A sweet, sleepy hum sounds from your throat as you feel around blindly for him, patting up his arm like you’re searching for a light switch in the dark.

When you reach his face, your wobbly fingertips twitch a little. They graze his stubbled cheek, then follow the curve of his smile. Your eyelids flutter open, and it takes a moment for your eyes to focus, but when they do, you don’t go to move or push him away like he was half-expecting.

No, instead, your gaze slides to where you trace his lips, your own parting with a sharp breath.

If he says anything, he’ll fuck this up, he’s sure of it. And he wants to squeeze every last drop from this moment. So he just watches you and tries to subdue the wildfire scorching his bones to dust.

“I had a dream about you,” you tell him in a hoarse whisper, as if someone might overhear.

His pulse surges. He feels his limbs wiggle a little closer to you as he asks, “A good dream?”

You nod.

“What happened?”

The answer tucks into the corners of your mouth and spreads across your face in a big party banner smile, “I dreamed that you, um…”

You lick your lips and shrug, raking your nails along his jaw, reeling him in closer. He doesn’t want to be the fool that makes the first move. Not unless you want him to be.

“That I what?”

The question leaves his throat in a rumble. Permission, he needs your permission, baby, please—

Then you kiss him. Delicate and hesitant, like a question: “Do you want this?”

“I do,” every cell in his body cries, aching with restrained force when his lips move in response, pressing hard against yours like a declaration, “I don’t just want this, I need this. I need you.”

A moan bows your vocal cords, vibrating onto his tongue as you yank on his shirt and roll onto your back, pulling him on top of you. It’s like second nature, how his hips arch into yours, the dull edge of your pubic bone grinding against his already stiff, throbbing length.

He keeps expecting you to come to your senses and shove him away, but you don’t. You keep kissing him, pulling him closer, tongue rolling soft and wet against his—morning breath be damned, thank fucking god. If you tried to shoo him now, he might die, too much inertia from this pulsing, maddening energy rippling beneath his skin, it would tear him to shreds.

Your lips part from his and you peer up at him through your lashes, studying his face as you tug at his cock over his shorts. His whole body shudders, a groan spilling from his chest, and you smirk, “Take them off.”

“Are you sure?”

You glance at his lips, then meet his eyes, “No, but do it anyway.”

Frankie sits up and strips off his clothes, watching you do the same. You pull him with you as you lay back on your elbows, lips meeting again and again in frantic, desperate kisses. His cock nudges against your slick entrance, and you whine, “Please—”

He pushes forward, swallowed up by your tight, wet heat, catching the whine of “Fuck yes,” that escapes your mouth. A thick wave of pleasure rushes up his spine, and your hips work against his, taking him faster, the shared movements quickly escalating.

“So fucking good,” he pants, nipping at the column of your throat as your head falls loosely back, “Sweet girl, you take me so well, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasp, nodding up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open slack, eyes pinched shut, “Oh my god, yes, Frankie—”

“That’s it, baby, say my name,” he growls, this insane gush of hot, writhing ecstasy flooding his body, “Look at me.”

Your head snaps up and you meet his eyes. He slips a hand behind your head and cradles your skull, holding you here, fucking you in deep, long strokes, asking you, “Whose pussy is this?”

“It’s yours, Frankie,” you gasp, nodding, “It’s yours, it’s always yours, fuck—”

“Fuck yes it is,” his voice sounds far away, babbling all on its own as he grapples with the fire growing inside him, “Does your little boyfriend fuck you like this?”

You let out a pathetic whimper and shake your head, “No.”

“Do you think about me when you fuck him?”

A nod, continuing frantically when he asks, “Think about how you wish it was me to make yourself come?”

“Fuck, holy shit, Frankie—oh my fucking god—”

You’re so fucking close. His muscles start to clench at the overwhelming pleasure.

“That’s it baby, come on, let it go, it’s ok, be a good girl let me feel you come on this dick—”

Your moans grow louder, matching his fervid thrusts, and he feels you suck him in, the spasming squeeze of your plush, hot walls yanking him violently over the edge. Liquid static condenses, then pulses through him, and he lets out a guttural noise as he fucks his load into you.

The rhythm of his hips slow, then come to a stop.

He looks down at you, panting, and brushes his thumb against your cheek, searching your face for signs of regret, and notices you’re studying him in the same manner.

You smooth your hands over his shoulders, then pull him into a sweet, lingering kiss. When your lips depart his, you release a heavy sigh, dragging your nails through his damp bed head as you ask, “What time do you have to go?”

An old, familiar ache returns. Reality setting in. He realizes what the day holds in store for him. Sarah’s birthday party. Spending the day with family and friends, playing pretend.

When he thinks about being around you and Angie simultaneously, how he will have to act neutral or even cold towards you, his stomach twists and a sour taste rises in his throat. He’s been here a million times and it always leaves him nauseous with shame. It doesn’t feel right. It never felt right.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

Everything seems to click into place. He understands what he has to do.

“Pablo is picking me up around 9.”

Your throat bobs and a crease forms between your brows as you avert your gaze, fingers still working through his hair, “Today’s gonna be a fucking nightmare, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” he presses a kiss into your forehead, right on the little worry lines, mumbling against your skin, “It’ll be ok.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, “We just fucked, now we’re gonna spend the day with your wife and daughter, what could go wrong?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he chuckles, but you don’t find it funny.

You flinch and look down, hands curling to your chest. Frankie tilts your chin up. When he meets your eyes, they’re bloodshot and watery. He opens his mouth to say something, frantically searching his brain for some kind of band-aid, but the box is empty. He’s not sure what to say to comfort you. All that comes out of his stupid fucking mouth is, “I—fuck, sorry.”

“No, it’s ok,” you wipe your eyes and sit up, so he draws back, watching you scramble to put your shorts back on, “I, um… I’ll go make some coffee.”

He wants to assure you it will be ok, that he’s going to fix this, make things right. Something he should have done years ago. But the words lodge in his chest. What if he can’t fix it? What if it’s another promise he can’t keep?

So he just sits there and lets you walk away for the millionth time.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, Frankie pours a cup of coffee and walks into the living room, where you’re scribbling in your notebook, limbs twisted up into a tight knot. Uncertainty paralyzes him in the archway between rooms. He takes a step back, pauses, then steps forward.

You smack the notebook and blink at him, “Oh my god Frankie, just sit down, you’re making me nervous.”

He nods and strides over to the couch, lowering himself onto the cushion beside you with a groan. Meanwhile, you return your attention to the notebook, furrowing your brow as you write.

Curiosity flips his stomach. Is it about him? About what just happened?

Desperately, he wants you to share your feelings on the matter with him like you would your journal. The unfiltered truth.

Do you want this like I do?

He takes a big, burning sip of coffee, then asks, “What’re you writing about?”

Your eyebrow arches and you continue to scribble as you narrate, “Dear diary, he’s gonna be super fucking weird about this now, isn’t he?”

Frankie snorts, shaking his head while you spear your pencil down the notebook’s wired spine and smirk at him. He tugs at one of your ankles, and you welcome the invitation, stretching your legs out across his lap and he scoots closer.

“Am I being weird about it?” he asks, glancing down into his steaming mug.

You exchange the notebook for your coffee and raise it to your lips before shrugging, “A little. But I think I am, too, so…” You take a loud sip, then lower your mug and ask, “Do you regret it yet?”

He doesn’t even think about it. The answer barrels from his heart to his mouth.

“No.”

A timid sort of smile curves your lips. It reminds him of the way a neglected animal would react to an outstretched hand. Cautious. Not sure if he’ll slap or pet you, but hopeful.

“Really?”

He nods, searching your face, “What about you?”

“No. But—” your smile falters, eyes dropping to your coffee cup, “But I’m scared.”

Guilt pools icy cold in his guts. His throat bobs on its own accord. He takes your hand, weaving his fingers with yours.

Your face twists into a pained expression and you croak, “What are we even doing here?”

“I don’t know yet,” he shakes his head, “But give me some time—”

“I can’t be your mistress again,” you whisper, shaking your head as tears pool in your eyes, voice escalating, tinged with panic, “Please don’t ask me to do that again, it would kill me, Frankie, I fucking can’t—”

“Hey—no,” he sits up to place his mug on the table, takes yours and does the same, then scoops you up onto his lap.

You bury your face in his neck. Sobs work through your body with violent force—a horrible, tortured sound that pulverizes his heart. All he can do is squeeze you tight and do his best to restrain his own tears. It barely works. Self-loathing bubbles under his skin.

His voice cracks as he tells you, “I won’t do that to you again, mariposa, I promise. I’ll fix it, I promise I’ll fix it, ok?”

He clenches his eyes shut, cradling you as a few more strangled noises burst from your chest, each one driving the thought deeper: I don’t want to do this anymore.

“Give me some time,” he rasps into your hair, “I promise I’ll fix it—”

“You’re just saying that because I’m crying,” you choke out in an accusatory fashion, then take a big, wet, gasping breath.

“No, I’m not—hey, look at me.”

He pulls back to meet your eyes, but you shake your head in protest, covering your face, “I don’t want to, I’m ugly crying.”

“Ugly crying?” Frankie snorts, “I don’t know about that, let me see.”

Your shoulders bounce with a soggy, muffled chuckle, “Shut up.”

He smirks at the spunky response as you sniffle and drop your hands, shooting him a glare he knows you don’t mean. Feigning seriousness, he pinches your chin to inspect your damp, puffy face.

“Hmm,” he clicks his tongue and sighs, “Just as I thought. Too goddamn pretty for your own good.”

To this, you roll your eyes and chuckle, “You’re a liar.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, thumb sliding across the plush of your bottom lip, “But not about this.”

Your gaze softens as you search his face, “Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Really?”

Frankie nods.

You study him, brow furrowed, eyes welling up. Everything is so silent and still, he wonders if the world stopped turning. A fat tear rolls down your cheek and you croak out, “You better not be fucking with me, Francisco.”

“I’m not—”

“Because, I swear to god, if you’re lying—”

He cups your cheeks and holds your gaze steady on his, “I promise, ok? I’ll tell Ang later this week. But today…” He trails off, shaking his head, “I don’t know.”

A few tears break loose, so he wipes them away.

The column of your throat bobs and you ask, “Do you still want me to go?”

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, “Do you still want to go?”

“You first.”

“I’d like it if you did. And it would mean a lot to Sarah,” he slips his arms around your waist and leans back onto the couch. You follow, laying your head on his shoulder, melting into him as he pets your hair and says, “But it’s up to you. It might be hard.”

“Because you’re still… with her, right? Like this?”

His chest aches. You flatten your palm against his heart and he tells you, “Yeah. Well, kind of. It’s different, but yeah.”

“Different how?”

I don’t love her. Not like this.

“I, um… I don’t know how to explain it. She’s just a different person. Our relationship isn’t like this. It’s kind of like it was, but, you know… worse.”

You’re quiet for a moment, then ask, “Do you still fuck her?”

“No.”

The lie slips out automatically. Immediately, his stomach drops to the ground. He wishes he could take it back, and for a second, he considers it. But, at the same time, you don’t need to know about a one-time fuck up.

He shifts a little, looking down at you, “But we’re still… affectionate sometimes. Which could be hard to see. So, it’s up to you.”

You smooth your hand up his chest, to his neck, and sit up to meet his eyes, “I’ll go.”

Frankie nods, searching your face.

“We can behave, right?” your eyebrow quirks, and you glance down at his mouth.

“Uh huh,” he leans closer, inhaling your breath, brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

But when his lips meet yours, and sparks ignite under his skin, he knows it’s just another lie.

#designated person #frankie morales #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic

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violetasteracademic · 1 month

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On Mate Behavior: Elriel (Part Two- Scent)

Another day of an SJM Instagram jump scare with more stories and no book accouncement (though I am HAPPILY celebrating indie bookstore day with you all!)- So it's another day to be on my Elriel shit. Will we still want posts like this once the announcement is out and we are done fighting for our lives? I feel like the announcement is coming soon so I need to sneak in all my thoughts!

In my previous analysis, I highlighted a moment that would have been perfect for Azriel to display some mate-like behavior towards Gwyn, and it was sorely lacking. You can catch up on that post here!

Today I would like to discuss another area lacking in mate behavior in the BC between Azriel and Gwyn, but present for... drumroll... Elriel. And that is scent.

Bringing back Nessian's bonus chapter to start the parallels, because I do think an additional bonus lends itself to the fairest basis for comparison (also if I used book examples from ToG to CC regarding romantic parings/mates and scent I'd be here for several hundred years):

Cassian is so lost in Nesta's scent that he had to stop himself from letting his eyes roll back into his head while breathing her in. This... sounds familiar:

Azriel's eyes also nearly rolled into the back of his head because of Elain's scent.

As previously mentioned, scent plays a huge role in mates/romantic pairings. I was chatting with my friend @faeprincesswarrior when I first started thinking about the scent thing, and she remembered that Rhys could smell Feyre's scent before they even met. He would wake up with her scent in his nose. Cassian and Azriel both can hardly control themselves when they take in the scents of Nesta and Elain.

Scent plays an important role in romantic pairings, and is honestly probably one of the things SJM lays on the thickest throughout the entirety of her multiverse and she has a tendency to drop it early on, often as an initial indicator. Yes, sometimes scenting is platonic, but Gwyn and Az don't even have that on page. There is simply no mention of scent in their portion of the chapter, but it is heavy in Elain's section.

*Crescent City 3 Spoiler* Even when Ithan is done with all his side quests and spends just a few moments with Perry, he's suddenly like mmm... strawberries and cinnamon. No other indicator of mate behavior there but MANY readers only needed that little nugget to be like- something's cooking here.

Again, in addition to Azriel's lack of response to directly recalling Gwyn's assault from his POV on page- something I would have liked to see to indicate feelings could be brewing there- there is also zero mention or indication that Azriel experiences Gwyn's scent at all. Even something small, like "a shift in her scent" at his arrival, or noticing a change in her scent from her flash of memory as well (as it happened between Nesta and Cassian.)

Azriel lost his mind over Elain's scent in their bonus chapter, just as Cassian lost his mind over Nesta's scent in theirs.

Azriel makes no mention of Gwyn's scent in the BC. It's as if to him, she doesn't even have one.

I want Azriel and Elain to be together because Azriel and Elain want to be together. They experience what romantic pairings experience together, and it is delicious.

I love Gwyn, which is why I think if she is going to have a romance in the future, she deserves more than a regifted necklace and a male who is drowning in the scent of another female's kitty and doesn't even notice what Gwyn smells like. This is really what we want for her?

Hoping for a book announcement soon. Do you guys like seeing Sarah post more? I have mixed feelings. Part of me thinks it is gearing up for an announcement which is exciting. Part of me also is tired of the jump scares and wants complete silence unless it is a book announcement. Judge me if you must!

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elriel endgame

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juunobox · 8 months

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──★ ˙ ̟ sitting on nikolai's lap and testing his limits by pretending oblivious. (nikolai gogol x gn! reader)

summary: enjoying ice cream while u sit on his lap, intentionally moving around in ways that'd turn him on but pretending you have no idea what you were doing to annoy him lol warnings: n/sfw. no actual woohoo scene , just the teasing leading up to that, and i don't use explicit languages here but u can tell what's happening note: i have mixed feelings ab this one i think im having writer's block idk help me e i hope u enjoyed tho

"Me, oh my, looks like someone is enjoying themselves a liiittle too much," Nikolai chuckled whilst playfully tousling your [h/c] hair, causing you to nod with a laugh. "I didn't expect myself to enjoy it this much, either– carnivals are typically crowded places- but this was a pleasant surprise," you admitted with glee.

Initially, you hesitated to accept the invitation to go visit a carnival with Nikolai because you have a dislike for crowded and busy environments, but his company made a significant difference.

Whenever you started feeling overwhelmed, Nikolai, with his keen eyes would almost immediately notice it– immediately whisking you away into his arms; using his overcoat to move the both of you to a quieter spot nearby and stay there until you felt better before continuing the activities.

Nikolai was enthusiastic throughout, and although keeping up with his energy was challenging– seeing his beaming excitement warmed your heart and kept you going. His eagerness to explore every nook and cranny of the carnival while still making sure to take breaks just for you was a gesture you deeply appreciated.

Nikolai grinned, "See? I knew you'd enjoy it, dove!" You responded with another nod, mirroring his satisfaction in how today's events had turned out pleasantly. Leaving the carnival behind, the two of you walked in comfortable silence for a moment.

As the lively lights slowly faded into the dusky evening, you and Nikolai wandered into a nearby park. Typically bustling with activity, the park had now settled into a peaceful hush, possibly due to the approaching darkness. Nikolai's eyes suddenly lit up as he exclaimed, "[Y/N], look over there! An ice cream vendor with Halloween-themed flavors!" He pointed at the vendor with an enthusiastic grin, slightly jumping in his spot. "Wow, they have 'blood' flavor! We have to try it." He tugged your arm, coaxing you to join him. "Let's gooo!"

Even though you weren't in the mood for any more sweets after indulging in them with Nikolai in the carnival earlier– it was difficult to resist his gleeful enthusiasm, so you responded with a smile and a nod. The vendor appeared pleasantly surprised by Nikolai's striking excitement for the sweet, cold dessert. He ordered 'blood' flavored ice creams for both of you, but Nikolai's cone contained an unexpected swirl of vanilla.

He happily accepted it, paid the vendor, took your hand in his before leaving.

"He was so kind, wasn't he? Giving me the vanilla flavor as well," Nikolai giggled softly while savoring the ice cream. You agreed with a small giggle, "Yeah, I think he appreciated your excitement. It's not every day you see someone this thrilled about getting an ice cream."

"Hahaha! I hope that's true," Nikolai laughed before taking a taste of the ice cream. "Oh, turns out this is strawberry jam," he remarked, taking another lick of the dessert. "Just the right amount of sweetness! What do you think, dove?"

You tasted your own ice cream before replying, "Mmm, it's good, I agree!" You glanced at Nikolai, who was enjoying his treat with repeated nods in silent approval. "Can I taste the vanilla flavor, Kolya?

"Sure thing!" Nikolai smiled and lowered his hand, offering you a taste of the vanilla. You leaned in to taste it- approving the taste, "The vanilla is so creamy," and returned to enjoying your own ice cream.

Unbeknownst to you, his gaze lingered on your lips for a little longer. "Isn't it? Sooo good!" he forced a grin on his face, promptly looking away– pretending that the sight of you tasting his ice cream earlier didn't make him feel nor think of certain things that shall remain… unspoken. At least for now.

As you both strolled a little further, you came across an unoccupied bench. Nikolai abruptly halted and turned to you, saying, "Let's sit here for a bit!" He tugged your arm, guiding you to the bench before taking a seat himself.

Leaning back against the wooden bench, he savored the taste of his ice cream; legs spreading slightly as he relished the treat. It was difficult not to look at his legs— his thighs, his lap. Your eyes remain fixated on his lap, and a familiar desire stirred within you.

You often fantasized about sitting on his lap; his thick thighs looked incredibly alluring. Or, perhaps you just yearned for something more. You wanted to feel them… on you, against you– experience that closeness in some way or another.

That's why now, instead of taking the empty space beside him, you boldly plopped down on Nikolai's lap.

He was taken aback by the sudden contact, his eyes widening in surprise. It nearly caused him to drop his ice cream. "[y/n], what would you do if I dropped my ice cream?!" he proclaimed theatrically, a small laugh accompanying it.

Despite his words, you chose to ignore them and continued to enjoy your ice cream while making yourself comfortable on his lap.

Nikolai, maintaining his playful tone, remarked, "Someone's feeling a bit daring today, I see~?"

With faux innocence, you replied without even sparing him a glance. "What? I just wanted to sit here. Your lap always seems like a comfortable seat to me." Not giving him any chance to respond, you continued by shifting your sitting position on his lap.

He chuckled, "Suuure. Comfortable, is it?" Nikolai said smugly, clearly seeing through your intentions but didn't make a comment on it. "But we're in a public space, [y/n]. Don't you think people might find this… at least a teeny bit inappropriate?"

Nikolai wasn't wrong. You knew exactly what you were doing at this moment: teasing him– but this time, you intended to play the innocent. After all, he was always the one poking fun on you. This would be a sort of payback. Fair, right?

"Kolya, I'm just sitting on your lap, trying to find a good position. These hard wooden benches aren't very forgiving," you responded with mock ignorance, enjoying your ice cream and continuing to shift your position on his lap, pressing down against him even more.

Nikolai's words caught in his throat at this, feeling your movements. Oh, his expression was priceless – if you could see it. He's trying so hard to pretend he's just as oblivious as you are; but his flushed cheeks, the glistening sweat on his forehead, and the way he nibbled on his lower lip– revealed everything.

There was a brief pause before you heard a response from Nikolai in the form of a soft hum. "Hm~ well, if you insist." He leaned back, trying to relax again and enjoy his ice cream that's starting to melt a little.

What you were doing was clearly having an effect on him, but he was valiantly attempting to maintain his composure. You looked around, spotting a dog passing by in the distance. You jumped a bit on the spot, intentionally pressing down on him even more. "Oh, a cute dog," you exclaimed, "Kolya, look!" you extended an arm and pointed in the direction where the dog is, deliberately ignoring his reactions as you continued to shift on his lap.

The clown's eyes widened once again, sucking in a sharp breath as you moved. He almost let out a moan. Almost. In his mind, you were practically grinding on him, because, well, that is exactly what you're doing– it's just that you're pretending clueless to it.

Nikolai's hand drifted to the edge of the bench, his fingers gripping it tightly as you continued to move. He blinked slowly at the sensation, releasing a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh. It was becoming progressively more challenging for him to keep his composure.

"Dove... You're moving a bit too–" he said in a hoarse, unsteady voice. But before he could finish what he was trying to say, you quickly interrupted, "Oh! That really sucks. I wanted to see the dog's face up close; it already looks incredibly cute from here!" You continued to move, undeterred by his pleas.

Nikolai's blush intensified, "[Y/N]," He swallowed, transitioning from gripping the bench to placing his hand on your hip, attempting to keep you from moving...

But you just continued and kept going.

"Aaah," you gasped, posing disappointment as your eyes followed the dog racing away. You kicked your legs and held onto Nikolai's thighs even tighter, leaning back, "The dog ran away." You murmured, maintaining the feigned innocence to the impact of your actions on him up until now, but finally putting a stop to it.

Nikolai was noticeably sweating, his breathing slightly heavier. You were in such close proximity to him, practically pressed against his body– you could feel the heat emanating from him.

Just as you were preparing to rise from his lap, he finally spoke up. "Nope. Come back here," Nikolai's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, leaving you with no choice but to remain in close contact with him. You were caught off guard by the sensation, your eyes widening as a soft gasp escaped your lips.

"Hey," you began, attempting to speak and make eye contact, but Nikolai swiftly nuzzled your neck and slid his hand beneath your shirt, gently caressing your skin. His touch sent shivers down your spine, accompanied by a flutter in your lower stomach. "Kolya, wait," you squirmed, trying to stop him; but instead– ended up losing your balance. Your ice cream tumbled into your lap, the creamy substance sliding down in between your thighs.

Nikolai paused and leaned back, assessing the mess with a small pout. "Hm, your ice cream spilled... What a waste." His hand swiftly ventured further upwards, tugging onto your shirt. "If you remove this, then I can use it to wipe the ice cream off your thighs," he suggested with a mischievous giggle, slipping a finger underneath.

Your cheeks turned red at his words. "I'm not doing that," you held onto his arm, preventing him from going further. "Not here-"

"Oh, my prettiest dove, you were the one who initiated this... I knew what you were doing, moving around on my lap like that!" he chuckled, "But, fine." Nikolai finally withdrew his hand before gently helping you get off his lap before standing up.

"Let's head over to that alley instead. I'll help you clean that up!" Nikolai chirped with a sly grin, his cheerful tone contrasting with the true intentions behind his proposal.

You nodded and walked alongside him, the stickiness from the ice cream made walking a bit uncomfortable– but the prospect of getting rid of the sticky feeling soon was somewhat relieving.

Then, you suddenly felt Nikolai's hand on your thigh, where the ice cream had spilled. You jumped at the sudden touch, turning to glare at him. He met your gaze with a playful giggle, licking the ice cream off his fingers.

"Did you just—"

"It's called not wasting food, [Y/N]!" He giggled, eyeing you suggestively, "I'll clean the rest of it too, don't you worry~"

#idk how to tag this one.#bsd x gender neutral reader #nikolai bsd x reader #nikolai gogol bsd #bsd x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x you #nikolai x y/n #nikolai gogol x you #help #bsd x y/n #bsd x you

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whalesforhands · 3 months

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kaizen daycare! 5

previous masterlist next

“Does everybody have a copy?”

“Yes, (name)-sensei!” A chorus of cute voices answer your call. Loud chattering and shiny eyes all whilst excited stamping of little, socked feet upon the padded floors as they point at the colourful paper.

“I’m gonna ask Nanamin to let me wear my tiger trunks! Gao!” His tiny arms are stretched into the air, fingers splayed out into claws as he roars in attempts to terrorize his blank-faced friend, his blue eyes too mesmerized by the swimming brochure you had handed out to him with a pat to his head and a cooing of his name.

(“I hope you’ll come with your sisters, Megumi-kun. Tsumiki-chan is welcome to join, too!”)

PERMISSION SLIP

Kaizen Daycare will be hosting a swimming class this weekend! Located at the Mei Mei Swimming Centre, we will be teaching essent—

And Megumi decides that he really, really wants to go.

“Noba-chan! We should bring our pool floaties! Then we can play in the water together!”

“I’ll ask my Granny to pack extra strawberries!”

“Nana and I will ask Papa for extra snacks too…!”

(“Senseeiiiiii!” Yuuji clings onto your leg as his hands grip onto your apron. “Can I bring Choso too?!”

“Yuuji-kun, please have your permission slip signed first…!”)

And that’s how you ended up here, squatting down and helping Nobara fix her hair under her swim cap by the side of the children’s pool with her accompanying, feeble grandmother comfortably settled nearby on one of the benches, sipping on a complimentary bottle of tea provided for accompanying parents and simply enjoying the atmosphere of the swimming complex.

(They were the first to arrive.)

“Eh? So (name)-sensei has friends other than Shoko-sensei?” The curious tilt of her head, an innocent finger on her lip as she looks up at you, heart-shaped goggles pulled up to her forehead to reveal just as innocent, questioning brown.

And you feel something in you crack.

You swear you can quite literally feel your spirit leave you, swirling out of your mouth as your eyes blank out, hands frozen midair and the urge to fall onto your knees to lament about your lack of socialization with more people your age on the tip of your tongue as you let her words sink in.

You have friends! Plenty! There’s Shoko, there’s Utahime… Does Yaga count? He might be a touch too old, but you’re on friendly relations with your boss! Even though… You barely see him since he’s taking care of the older kids on another floor. And you have plenty of them online in Jujutsu Kaisen!

Yes, you assure yourself. Your eyes squeezing shut and your biting your lip in nervous contemplation. You have friends, you aren’t alone, you aren’t a NEET, and you’re only slightly addicted to video games! Slightly!

Though, that doesn’t discount the fact that your children already think you’re some sort of lonely shut-in…!

“(name)-sensei has a lot of friends, Nobara-chan!” Your hands clap together as you stand up, slowly leading her away from the edge of the pool as you gently place your palms onto her shoulders. “Am I not friends with your grandmother?”

“Mmm…” She crosses her arms, albeit with a little bit of struggle due to the pink arm-floaties. Her eyes closed as you fix a stray strand of hair on her forehead. Yep, you’ve convinced her. This is definitely enough to—

“Nope!” She pops the ‘p’ at the end.

“Granny says she sees you as her daugt-her!” Her hands are on her hips staring at you as she smiles, patting your arm with an excited hand. “So can you teach me to swimmy now? I wanna get ahead of Yuuji!”

Your eyes swirl with panic, totally defeated as you want to slump onto the ground and curl into a ball and cry. You don’t even notice the way Nobara was hugging against your torso, her face against the swimming cover-up as she wraps her tiny arms around you, your hand instinctively going around her and patting her head as you keep wallowing in your sadness.

“(name)-seennnnnseeiiiii! Nobara wants to swim!”

“Nanamin! Over’ ere!” Loud clattering of sandals against tiled floors, and a jump of a tiny, soft presence into your arms as an excitable, cub-like boy makes himself known, your arm opening and catching the canon-balling child just in time before he hurts himself.

“Let’s swimmmmmm!” He squirms in your hold as your mind still floats away at the thought of being an adult whose children think of you as lonely and incapable of having other adult friends…

“Yuuji.” Calm and authoritative baritone meet your ears. “What did I say about running?”

“Boo… That I shouldn’t do it in areas outside the track field…” You can practically feel his pout as he hides his face inside your coverup with Nobara.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Yuuji’s sworry…” His apology is muffled into your clothing as you just continue to pat both of their heads, their mumbled conversation with each other not quite floating to your ears. “So can Nobara and I go play by the sprinkly toys? Pleaseee?”

“Yea, yea! Pleaseee? We’ll be back when everyone comes!”

Your eyes snap back to reality by pure professionalism as you glance at the nearby sprinkler play area and a thought flurries back to the awaiting parents behind you.

“You can, but only if you ask your parents, okay?”

And the duo are quick to crawl out of your coverup, eyes pointedly staring up at Yuuji’s guardian first due to his proximity.

Sparkly eyes meet tired, passive almond.

“…yes, you can. But be back when your teacher calls for you.”

“Yay! Now let’s go ask y’er granny! And we won’t run!” And so, they power walked as fast as toddler feet could carry them.

It’s silent, only momentarily when you’re both left alone. Calls of the duo asking for permission from Kugisaki’s grandmother a distance away.

“Nanami-san, you’re really good at handling him.” And you mean it. He was an exemplary caretaker, respectable, responsible and trusted you with his child wholeheartedly. A really nice man.

“It’s no issue at all. I’m just glad he likes you so much.” A shift of his cheekbones, a soft, growing smile on his face with tender eyes. He doesn’t even hesitate to settle down next to you, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the ground.

“It’s more of a pleasure to see him be so happy with you.”

Two gazes stare on as you giggle and continue to chat with the taller man, your conversation getting lost on toddler ears as they let themselves get pelted by light showers of water droplets, the plastic, leaf-like gardens of the area providing adequate fun for them.

And the fact that your smiling face was more entertaining for they to watch.

“Wah… (name)-sensei and your daddy look like pretty friends!”

“Mhm! Sensei and Nanamin are super supppeerrr close!” He’s haughty, proud even, as his hands go onto his little hips, face slightly red from accidentally rubberbanding the goggles onto his nose.

“I bet (name)-sensei likes my Nanamin the most!”

“No way! Sensei definitely likes my grand—!”

“Is that so?” A glowering aura of darkness starts to encapsulate behind him, the sheer weight his tone carried capable of making any normal person freeze in place from sheer fear.

Yet, it’s totally ineffective on cute kids.

(“Ah! It’s Sa-chan!” The glowing boy’s face grows even brighter, arms thrusted up to start waving at him.

“Ohhh! The big man that you say teaches you martial arts, right? Cool!”)

“That’s right! And Sa-chan wants to know, Yuuji-kun~ Why don’t cha tell me allllll about how close Nanamin is to the cute sensei?” His tone was not growing with more bite, more venom in them. “I wanna know every little bit, down to the very last— Ow!”

“Stop harassing children, you menace.” A grab, a decisive pull; and Sa-chan’s ear had been captured by a tall, black-haired man’s fingers, the skin growing red under his touch, one arm preoccupied with carrying two children as two more head pop up from behind him.

“Owoww owww! Sugurrruuuu, you’re so mean!”

(“Ah! Gumi, Nanako and Mimiko! Finally, let’s play together!”)

——

[whisper] you: satouuu. (; ; ）

[whisper] satouuu: yeaaaaa?

Your fingers hesitate in their typing, coming to an abrupt stop as they twitch just as you’re about to hit send. Shoko would laugh at you if you ever told her… So your only online friend is the closest, and safest bet, right?

[whisper] you: what do you think about me?

Specifically, you just want to see how you’re perceived. You act about the same offline and online anyway, right? You’re just… A little more forward on the net.

(Surely, you’re likable, right? You’re not that hopeless. At least… You don’t think so.)

You wait in anticipation, cold sweat starting to form on your hands as they clam up, a nervous rumbling of your character-themed cup as you try to down your nerves with another chug of chocolate milk.

This is making you far too nervous for what it actually is.

[whisper] satouuu: hoho? what’s this all of a sudden? (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

Now you wish you could retract every word you ever thought about sharing with this—

[whisper] satouuu: i’ll answer u if u pick up! ✌︎('ω')

(Incoming invite from User satouuu to join a voice-chat room!)

Ahhh…! Sly bastard! It’s too late to back out now, isn’t it? Maybe, just maybe… Some part of you has been anticipating something like this happening.

And so you accept.

Your throat feels dry, feels uneasy and uncertain. Yet, it leaves you before you can even comprehend. Was it nerves that pushed you to do this? A culmination of some odd, built up responsibility? Maybe you just weren’t made for this, maybe you should just quit this game and find a different one to get addicted to—

“…hello…?”

And you’re met with silence.

It makes you uneasy, makes the acid in your stomach feel like it was bubbling up and threatening to vomit out every last bit of your convenience store dinner as you nervously await.

(Do you sound bad or something…?)

“You sound cuter than I thought.” Followed up by a mock sigh of disappointment. “Not a nekama, huh? Pfft, borrrrinnnnggg!” He stops to let out a laugh, a smacking of his tabletop heard as you hear a clink of glass.

And you feel your heart palpitate just that little bit more.

“I’m sorry for being so boring then, you mean jerk.” You’re retorting back, a dumb smile unknowingly making its way onto your cheeks as you begin to… Talk. No longer needing to have the delays of typing in between the both of you.

It feels freeing, feels like a heavy weight has been lifted, feels… Right.

“And you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“Aww~, you’re just as impatient even on voice chat rooms too!” You hear him hum, a quiet drumming of his fingers against his desk.

“But if you sound like this,” He begins, a breath being drawn in. “Then you have nothing to worry about. It’s cute.”

“If you’re gonna joke around—“

“I’m being serious, honey! It really is cute!”

It makes your face burn in absolute shame, as much as you would hate to admit it. Just hearing someone with such an attractive voice has you wanting to choke back a sputter and break into your nervous rambling. It’s been bothering you ever since you heard him, how similar his voice was to a certain neighbour you had, yet how dissimilar it was at the same time.

(There’s no way. Coincidences like that only ever happened in fiction.)

Yet, you can’t help but imagine it all the same. Gojo Satoru calling you cute, his hand on your head or a tap of your nose with his finger as he teases you for being so shy. Or even Geto Suguru smoking next to you, gently grabbing your chin and sharing the smoke of his cigarette with you in the form of a—!

“Hey,” His voice takes a serious tone, drawling out his words in a smooth resonance that sends a shiver down your spine. “Say yes for me.”

(Oh… You would do anything for that voice—! No!)

Your eyebrows furrow only slightly, eyes snapping out of your daydream and eyes concentarted on the way his profile picture lit up when he spoke to notice the little pop-up at the corner of your screen.

“Yes…?”

[Voice activation confirmed.]

A shock of bursting, twirling pink hearts and flurry white laces that intertwine alongside snow white roses overtake your screen as your mouth hangs open in shock.

[Congratulations on your engagement! We wish you happiness with your partner!

Minimum damage will now increase by 20% when forming a party as a couple—]

“What?! You nearly choke on your spit, fingers hurrying to your keyboard to start spamming the backspace key, and every other letter in attempt to— “Cancel! Cancel—!”

[Request denied. Engagement is valid for 30 days, please try to work out your issues together.

Fun Fact: Only 48% of players who become couples choose to stay in their relationships after the valid period.]

“What?!”

“Ehehe.”

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Notes:

NEET — Not in Education, Employment or Training

nekama — usually a grown man who roleplays with a super sexy/cute female character online.

for EN: Ieiri Shoko’s username is ‘shosei’, literally short for ‘Shoko-sensei’ because she registered the account at work. (For you.)

for JP: Originally meant to be written 所生 (しよせい)- birth place/creation/child

shosei character profile username: shosei level: 79 class: sorcerer notes: looks almost like a carbon copy of the shoko ieiri you know in real life. full courtesy of you, who designed it with her when you begged to play together. she paid actual money to buy you a player-designed accessory once. you never want to have it out of your inventory.

Fact: True love is never easy! Engagement rings are one of the hardest items to obtain in game. Prove that your love can best even the most treacherous bosses on Floor 520, or simply purchase one from the player Market!

(Customization of rings are allowed! Personalise and make your love a unique existence!)

nvy’s aftertalk:

haha nvy ur so funny shosei which means birth place because she’s a doctor who works in a daycare haha funny

#kdc au #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader

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