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#of the fact that he hasn’t apologized. yet. of the fact that by the time he does it’ll be too late.
soralymystaken · 2 days
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I think a lot about Lloyd and Harumi, solely because they have one of the most unique yet complex relationship dynamics in all of Ninjago, and it’s something I don’t feel like we talk about enough.
So often I see online that their dynamic is overly simplified. I so often see people arguing between them being “true-love” or “friends to lovers to enemies,” but stating it’s just one of those is overlooking all of the complexities. Even stating it as a one-sided thing from Lloyd isn’t looking at the whole picture. Of course, there can be many interpretations of how they interact. Again, that’s the reason I adore this dynamic so much. This, however, is my personal interpretation:
Also, warning, spoilers plus some swearing.
At the beginning, we see Lloyd have the whole “love-at-first-sight” trope, and we learn that Harumi invited him into the castle. While, of course this immediately is seemed as a positive interaction, later events reveal otherwise. It continues like this: Lloyd falls deeper in love with Harumi whilst she continues manipulating him to keep him on strings. She eventually realizes his feelings, and wants plays on that, making the process work exponentially better. Finally, we learn Harumi’s motives and her reasoning, and, in the episode, Lloyd is devastated. However, I have some additions on this, but I’m gonna finish up my review of canon before getting to that. We do also know that Lloyd still has feelings, though. We primarily see thing from Lloyd still trying to save her from Garmadon’s grasp along with his sadness from her death.
The next time we see her and Lloyd’s dynamic (at least as far as I want to mention,) is Crystalized. When Lloyd is captured, he apologizes. He still clearly has feelings for Harumi, and, in a turn of events, it seems that Harumi does as well, as she convinces the Overlord to spare him and to try to get him on their side.
Okay, enough about prior knowledge, lets discuss headcanons. So, firstly, I’m 100% sure that Lloyd was tormented by Harumi’s origin story. We know how high of a standard he holds himself to, and we also know how morally-driven he is. Him learning about the real stories of the real people who he had really hurt couldn’t have been taken easily. I’ve actually written a whole fic that revolves on that fact, and how Lloyd’s lingering feelings would have amplified that feeling to oblivion. Also, for people who assume he would immediately drop his feelings when he learned Harumi’s true motives, literally just look at how he talks about Garmadon and you’ll see he can’t exactly move on that easily. Things like this take time, and, again, he has guilt because of this whole thing. Moving on from a relationship when you believe you were the reason the person tried to destroy the entire world and subsequently died isn’t the same as a high school breakup. That’s fucking devastating, and especially for someone who hasn’t had the best relationships up to that point.
However, this dynamic really starts to become cloudy when you look at Harumi. Now, look: I’m like 90% sure she only had feelings for Lloyd in S15 as fan-service, but, fan-service or not, it’s canon, and therefore I’m still gonna cover it.
So, first off, when and how did Harumi develop feelings? Personally, I think there could be three main reasons. For one, gaslighting. The whole time, she was gaslighting Lloyd into loving her. Sometimes, when you keep up a lie like that for so long and with that level of commitment, you can convince even yourself of these feelings. Do I think this is the case for Harumi? Well, it depends. If you truly do believe there is a spark between them, then no. However, if you really don’t like the fact that they were given a romantic storyline in S15, then this is a totally valid reasoning.
The second reason that comes to mind is Lloyd’s persistence. Now, just to cover all our basis, reminder that “being persistent” and “never giving up on a love that could be” are not cutesy tropes and relationship goals, and no means no. I see too much stuff online saying shit like “I never gave up on her and, even though she said no 20 times, she gave in in the end.” This is not something to romanticize. If someone rejects you, fucking respect that and move tf on. That being said, though, I think that could actually be the case in this dynamic, albeit in a much less creepy way than some fuckers online do it. Lloyd clearly, even after all of the shit Harumi pulled, still has lingering feelings: a mix of platonic and romantic. I truly believe Lloyd is someone who believes that anyone can change for the better, and applies this to Harumi. The fact that, even after all the pain Harumi caused, he still searched for her in the rubble could be the reason she developed feelings. In my opinion, this is the most likely option.
The final one is a bit colder, and is for y’all who believe Harumi is evil through-and-through. Lloyd is fucking overpowered. Harumi’s reasoning to the Overlord could be just that: the reason. I personally don’t love this one as much, but if this is something you resonate with, I would totally understand why.
All of these factors strung together make Lloyd and Harumi one of my favorite dynamics. There is so much more that I didn’t even discuss here. Is it romantic or platonic or just romantic for one of them? Did Harumi develop feelings even sooner yet denied them solely because of her hatred? Is Lloyd’s relationship with Harumi less to do with Harumi herself and more-so to do with trying to rebuild a relationship with his father through her to prove he can hold onto someone he loves? All of these are questions I’d love to dive into but simply do not have time.
Hopefully you enjoyed my little rant. I love overthinking stuff like this and also love chatting about over-the-top headcanons. If you have any thoughts on this (or other headcanons you want to share), please do!
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blurredcolour · 9 hours
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so much John Brady brainrot 🤭 so that being said…..soft dom! Brady headcanons?
Oh my nonny, this ask jumped out at me like a jackrabbit and I feel like it is the perfect time to expound on the forbidden dress scenario I first touched upon around Easter.
Behold some headcannons AND a drabble
Mature/explicit themes below the cut - 18+ only
Given the fact that dear Brady rules his fort with an iron fist (see his lecture to Croz after his struggles finding, I don’t know, England?!) I definitely feel like this man prefers to be in control, but I agree that it errs on the side of a soft!Dom rather than an outright dominant
While he hasn’t engaged in penetrative sex prior to your wedding night, he’s still the one on top, in charge, executing his seduction of you like some kind of pre-flight checklist
And let me tell you it works
As your relationship grows, you definitely feel more confident initiating intimacy, usually at times and in places that leave him slightly bewildered, your desire for him something so utterly mysterious whereas it’s completely logical to him that he cannot get enough of you
But he soon takes over to ensure you get the most amount of pleasure possible, putting himself last
You never realized, however, the potential for him to be suddenly overcome by a need until you wore that seemingly innocuous dress
Securing the zipper at your side, you took a moment to check your appearance in the floor length mirror of your shared bedroom, smoothing the hem of the spring dress in your favourite colour against your knees. It had been an irresistible extravagance when you were at the department store with only socks and underwear on your list, but the neckline and style had called out to you like a siren song.
Smoothing an errant strand of hair, you grabbed your handbag and hurried down the stairs to the living room where John was waiting, scanning the paper for something of interest.
“Ready, honey. Thanks for waiting.” You smiled and he snapped the paper closed along its pre-folded lines but froze as you came into view.
“That’s…that’s new…” he intoned, expression unreadable and making you feel the need to apologize for your over-spending.
“I…yes, I indulged a little at the store, did you want me to-” the sharp shake of his head cut off your offer to take it off, to return it tomorrow.
“It’s perfect.” He exhaled, eyeing you intensely before surging to his feet. “Come on, don’t let me make us late.” He grunted and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the couch, sliding it on before leading you out to the car.
There was a different tension in the vehicle, John’s eyes flashing in your direction frequently through the short drive to the cathedral, his hand resting heavily against your lower back as he guided you to your favourite pew. The heat of his palm was soaking through the thin fabric of your dress making you shiver at the temperature contrast with the cool stone of the building.
“You chilly?” He leaned in the murmur, the roughness in his voice taking you back to your lazy lovemaking yesterday morning and your jaw dropped open as you suddenly realized just what was going on.
A glance at him to offer a reassuring smile and shake of your head revealed his dilated pupils and slightly flushed cheeks, making you sink to teeth into your lower lip. What on earth had gotten into your husband?!
You could feel the weight of his heated gaze on you like numerous caresses throughout the service, more than confident he didn’t catch a word of the sermon, pressing your lips together sheepishly as somehow you felt at fault for this predicament and yet you couldn’t really bring yourself to mind?
How many times had you found yourself staring at this man, star-struck and breathless with desire in the most inopportune of places…what a heady turn of events this role-reversal was.
As you rose to join your fellow congregants for the weekly post-service chat over coffee and cake, John’s hand slid to your lower back, his skin scorching through your dress by now.
“Would you mind if we ducked out early, sweetheart? I’ve got a bit of a headache…”
Feigning wifely concern, you nodded quickly. “Of course, Johnny, let’s get you home.”
The drive home felt faster than usual, perhaps because he barely stopped at the stop signs, his hand resting on your thigh, fingertips plucking at the hem of your dress idly in the silence of the vehicle. Stepping into the house, you’d barely removed your shoes before his mouth was on yours, hungrily devouring, as his hands seized your hips and pulled you flush against his body.
The prominent bulge of his cock pressed against your hip and you dropped your handbag to slide your fingers into his hair.
“This dress is my devil in the desert.” He growled against your lips, making you laugh breathlessly.
“I wasn’t sure you were paying attention, honey.”
Turning to press you up against the front door, he ground his aching hardness into you. “I was enduring my own test…” he nipped your lips before trailing his mouth down your neck, hands rucking up the hem to slip between your thighs.
Mewling as you pulled at his suit jacket, you clung to him as he pinned you tightly to the door and quickly wrung an orgasm from you with practiced efficiency, leaving you a knock-kneed, panting, shaking mess.
Stepping back to shuck off his jacket and yank his tie free, you reached up to pull down your side zipper, eyes shooting wide at his verbal interjection.
“Ah! This?” His fingers strayed back to toy with the hem of your dress. “No, this stays on.” He said firmly, voice taking on a deep timber that flooded you with fresh desire.
Lurching forward, you instead focused your efforts on stripping him completely, following him down to the small carpet on the foyer floor, lifting your hips as he pulled your underwear off over your garter straps and stockings. Nestling between your thighs beneath your dress, his darkened eyes hungrily drank in the sight of you as he rocked his hardened length through your damp folds until you were begging for him.
“If my wife insists.” He smirked and rocked forward, sinking into your wet heat as your mingled groans filled the foyer.
The novelty of this coupling and desperation of his thrusts, combined with the insistent circles of his thumb on your clit, meant it did not take long for either of you to find release, left a sweaty, gasping mess on the floor of the entry way.
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quietwingsinthesky · 9 months
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I’m not one for soulmates AUs but bobbyrufus soulmate AU of the ‘you have the last words your soulmate will ever say to you on your body somewhere’ kind.
#I MAKE THE RULES OF THE AU AND WHAT I SAY IS THAT THE MOMENT THE WORM ENTERS BOBBY TIME IS UP#ANYTHING SAID BY OR TO HIM AT THAT POINT DOESNT COUNT#YES. THIS IS SO THAT BOBBY HAS TO LIVE WITH ‘I will never forgive you for what happened. you got that? never. so change the subject bob.’#ON HIM. THE WHOLE TIME. AFTER OMAHA. EVEN AS HES TRYING TO APOLOGIZE IN THIS SCENE HE KNOWS HE WONT BE FORGIVEN#BECAUSE ITS ALWAYS BEEN TATTOOED ONTO HIM. THHAT THEY WOULD END LIKE THIS. WITHOUT BEING ABLE TO MOVE ON.#and so that Rufus’s last words can say ‘I never said I’m sorry Rufus.’ rufus constantly carrying this reminder of what Bobby did.#of the fact that he hasn’t apologized. yet. of the fact that by the time he does it’ll be too late.#and then you just. look imagine. imagine with me.#they say this to each other. there’s that moment where they realize… that’s it. end of the line.#and then obv worm!samuel knocks them both out. them both going down thinking ‘oh this is what does it’ but it doesn’t. it doesn’t.#they wake up again.#and Rufus talks to Bobby. Bobby talks to Rufus. how is this happening? did they break the rules? get a second chance?#their words are still on their skin. unchanging. the last things they ever said to each other.#but there’s a glimmer of. almost hope. and then Rufus turns to shock Bobby. and Bobby starts backing away.#audible drop of Rufus’s heart as he realizes. no. they didn’t get out. and then he dies. Bobby is forced to kill him.#Bobby’s on the other end of the possession stick now. he’s the one with Rufus’s blood on his hands.#and the last thing Rufus said to him. he’s always gonna have it there on his skin. that Rufus didn’t forgive him. and then Bobby killed him.#(and it wasn’t his fault. he knows how possession works. knows there was no fighting this thing or saving Rufus.#but he still takes the brunt of the guilt. Carries it. till he dies and despite everything it’s still Rufus he wants guiding him through it.#bobbyrufus#spn#Bobby singer#rufus turner
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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Nice To Eat You
[ii]
The Vees x Cannibal!Reader
warnings: drugs, suggestive, rosie slander, dark themes, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism
heads up: if you didn’t know, the people of cannibal town are hellborn; born in hell, never lived on earth, never sinned! their life spans are unknown(?) but seem to age as a human would, unlike other demons
Cannibal town has been off limits to The Vees, courtesy of Vox, ever since the incident with you know who. Meeting you was a suspicious surprise for them. You were kicked out of said town by Rosie for giving cannibals a bad name. Can you fucking believe the irony!?
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Suspicious might be an understatement
• For the longest time, Vox is unnerved by you for every other reason than your appetite. Anyone associated with Rosie is an adversary by proxy. If you take Alastor out of the picture, Rosie is still an Overlord and all Overlords will inevitably crumble to The Vees– even if they don’t know it yet
• There’s an expression for that though, isn’t there? Keep your enemies close. That’s exactly how Vox went about dealing with you
• Gives you a job as his security guard. Hell knows he needs one, what with the price of fame and all, those dirty fucking sinners that try and touch him wherever he goes
• It’s a slow development because neither of you initiate conversation
• Vox is beyond used to the rotating door of demons in and out of his life. He abandons the names of anyone that isn’t you, Velvette or Valentino (Angel Dust and Alastor he can’t forget against his will)
• Becoming attached to you while simultaneously waiting for the other shoe to drop is fucking awful. It feels it like a bug in his system, annoys him to the point his screen starts glitching one day
“Just what the fuck are you up to!? I know you’re with Rosie–”
You knew, on some level, Vox didn’t trust you all the way but it didn’t bother you because he hardly seems to trust anyone. So you cut him off with a mix of a snort and a scoff,
“Rosie? Rosie’s a cunt. She gave me the boot years ago, haven't seen her since.”
Involuntarily, he begins to smile, “Years, huh?”
• Trust is another slow endeavor. Now that Vox doubts your motives slightly less than before, he can silently appreciate the fact you do a damn good job of keeping demons away from him. Bonus: if you happen to take a chunk out of them for shits and giggles, blood never touches his pristine self
• “I believe I owe you an apology,”
“Am I going to get one?”
• In a way, sure, but you’ll be sorely disappointed if you thought it was with words. He invites you to dinner. From that moment until you arrive at the restaurant, he’s reveling in the constant state of shock you seem to be in
• Your eyebrows jump when the waiter nervously lifts the lid from your plate and reveals ribs. Real, demon ribs
“Surprised?” Vox asks rather smugly
“Somewhat,” You return his sly smirk, “Most can’t stomach my… indulgences.”
“I don’t have a stomach. I think I’ll be just fine.”
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Vel doesn’t give two steaming shits about Rosie or her backwards, unflattering town so long as it doesn’t interfere with her enterprise. Vox’s grudges are his own. If The Vees got hellbent and demented over each other’s EOTD (Enemy Of The Day) nothing would get done!
• During a pathetic comment war on the her social, a few threats became too detailed for Vox’s liking
• A cannibal wasn’t his first choice– or second, or third– but you’d certainly scare off anyone trying to hurt his business partner!
• Velvette’s far from worried about being lunch when she meets you.
• “You’re my–? No. Absolutely not! I can’t be seen with this.” She gestures to all of you
“You’re not exactly making me drool either,” You mutter under your breath
• Judging by the looks of her partners’ faces, stunning Velvette to silence was impossible. Key word: was
• It didn’t last long and hasn’t stopped since
• She pulled out every trick in the book to get you to quit. She gave you a uniform to wear during your shifts, tossed fabrics at you until you turned into a living clothes rack, forced you to hold her phone during her live streams but criticized and berated the way you did
• For fucks sake, she even screamed at Vox to let her fire you!
• You didn’t need her to like you and that was as obvious as it was infuriating. She was Velvette! Everyone loved her! Having you around was like a black eye; literally bruising her ego and bad for business
• Or so she thought
• She made you stand in the shadows of her studio so you wouldn’t frighten anyone and ruin photoshoots with your “freaky face” she so eloquently put it.
• Velvette was mid fashion crisis, yelling at Joanne for the gazillionth time, when you approached from behind
“I’m taking my lunch.”
“Fucking fantastic! Here, have Joanne since she insists on being fucking useless!”
Playing along, you let a guttural growl rip from your throat, making Joanne jump high in the air.
She squeaked and shook her head vigorously, holding her hands in surrender, “I-I’ll be better, I swear!”
• Her candy cane eyes widened in delighted surprise. How had she been so blind to your potential usefulness!?
• Velvette could get high off the new game she created with you. It was like having a scary guard dog– only better dressed to aesthetics. Paparazzi didn’t dare touch her now, standing at a respectable distance that made her more unattainable and desirable than before
• Her attitude change makes her like-able to you too, she’s heaps more pleasant to be around now. You don’t mind doing the extra stuff that wasn’t in your contract like being a dress up doll, dealing with the pet names or escorting her to events. She knows and takes advantage of this instead of saying how she feels
• “You’re my arm candy now, dollface! You go where I go.”
“I hardly think I qualify as arm candy,” You mumble to her, overtly aware of how she holds you close to her
“If you’re fishing for compliments, fuck off to another pond. I don’t waste my free time with uggos,” She says seriously, abruptly smiling as a camera flashes in her direction, “Now get ready. Fans have been dying to get a picture with me lately and if anyone smudges this dress with their dirty fucking fingers, I want you to bite them off!”
“Anyone that touches you won’t have hands tomorrow,” You promise
• You swear she shivers upon hearing that
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The easiest by far to get along with. In a mortifying way
• Val is fairly accepting of all Hell’s creatures. It’s typically followed up by something sexual but, hey, you’re not in a position to complain, not when no one else in Hell would willingly sign up to work with a cannibal. Especially one outside the confines of Rosie’s civil town
• Rosie’s loss is his gain
• You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting him to turn horror-struck but he barely blinks when you explain what you did to get exiled. Your savage methods intrigue him, a plethora of potentials just waiting to be explored. In fact, he goes a step further to praise you for being different
• “Hell would be deathly boring if everyone thought the same way, darling. That’s what makes you so… alluring.” He rolled his tongue with the last word, dragging it out and making it ring in your ears
• You’d been called many things in your afterlife, but never that
• You feel rather useless at the moth’s side. You were supposed to be protecting him but he could take care of himself just fine. Val was about the tallest in every room (if not the tallest) with guns hidden under his coat that he never used
• Later you’d understand he only reached for them as a last resort, when his head was unclouded by blood lust
• If you ever voiced your complaints, he’d be quick to reassure you that you make him look good. What powerful Overlord doesn’t have bodyguards? (Do. Not. Answer.)
• However the day does come when you prove your services have merit. On set of all places! A coked up Hellhound didn’t take kindly to Val’s directions, sending a demon wielding a boom mic flying towards him
• Valentino dodged the demon with ease, whipping around and aiming his pistol to put the dog down. Instead he saw you pushing the mutt’s face into the ground, his arm pinned at an angle. Your sharp teeth were bared at his throat, drool dampening his fur
• But you made no moves without Valentino’s say-so
• There’s a lot he could say about the scenario you provided him and how it made him feel– but he only calls your name, beckoning you back to his side
• Where you belong
• “You’re lucky I don’t like hair in my food,” You growl in the Hellhound’s ear before following after Val
• Valentino may be a mastermind of porn and sex but he knows the real way to a demon’s heart, it’s is the universal love language
• Unbothered by blood, he’ll sit pretty and poised on his loveseat while you tear into the meal he provided you. A thanks for a job well done
• “You’ll never go hungry now that you’re with me, monstruo,” The pet name is dripping with adoration, “I won’t waste you like that bitch did. Look at you, you’re already so special.”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i lost the request that went to this but i hope it reaches them. cannibal!reader got that rizz, huh?
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melzula · 21 days
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All I Ever Wanted
pairing: zuko x reader
notes: this was originally requested by an anon but i also took inspiration from mitski’s song “your best american girl” while writing this. give it a listen during your read !
summary: as a peasant and servant girl for the palace, you should have known better than to fall for the Prince
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The sun is warm against your skin and the grass is soft beneath you as you land on your back in a fit of giggles. Azula is unamused by your antics, but Zuko finds himself laughing right along with you. It’s a peaceful summer’s day in the palace gardens, and you spend it as you would any other day by playing with your friends.
“I caught you,” you tell him with a breathless laugh after turning your head to face him.
“No way, I was just going easy on you,” he argues with playful grin, his nose nearly brushing against your own due to your close proximity on the grass. Your heart beats fast in your rib cage as you try to ignore the rising heat on your face and play it off as a result of your exhaustion and not your nerves from lying with the Prince. You haven’t realized it yourself, but you have a crush on Zuko, a painfully obvious one that he hasn’t seemed to notice yet. What you also don’t realize is that he reciprocates the feeling, and he shares the thrill that comes with being your playmate.
“Are you two done yet?” Azula finally interrupts with a roll of her eyes as she offers you her hand and helps you up from the ground. “It’s my turn to hide this time.”
“I don’t think we can play anymore,” Zuko notes with a frown as his mother makes her way towards your group. You quickly bow in respect to the Fire Lady, but she waves you off with a smile.
“I’m sorry, y/n, but Zuko and Azula must attend their fire bending lessons now. I’m afraid playtime is over for today,” she informs you apologetically.
“Yes, Fire Lady Ursa,” you reply politely before turning to give both of your friends departing hugs. “Bye Zuko, bye Azula!”
“It’s too bad you’re not a fire bender,” Azula remarks after halfheartedly returning your embrace. “Maybe dad would let us play with you more if you were.”
Her words make your body hot with embarrassment and shame, and though you don’t voice your discomfort Ursa is instantly able to pick up on it. With a scolding glare, the Fire Lady quickly urges her daughter to apologize.
“Azula, that is not a nice thing to say to a friend.”
“But it’s true,” the girl mutters under her breath only to have her mother drag her away before she can get the chance to say anything else. Zuko hesitates then, giving you an apologetic look and promising to play with you tomorrow before rushing after Ursa and Azula.
You’ve never really cared about being a non-bender, but there’s something about Azula’s words that has you questioning your worth. As the daughter of a royal family servant with no title or money to her name, you knew you were lucky to be able to grow up in the palace and play with the Fire Lord’s children. However, you never once realized that you weren’t their equal. They were royalty, a Prince and a Princess destined to become powerful benders and ruthless leaders of the Fire Nation, and you were simply a girl who would one day grow up to live a life of servitude. You had no real future or purpose ahead of you, not like they did, and yet you were the only one unaware of your unfortunate fate.
Perhaps it’s because they never treated you in such a way, and your mother did her best to shield you from your true heritage. For now you could grow up blissfully unaware of the fact that your friends would one day outgrow you.
“Mom?” Zuko asks once they’re safe inside the palace. “Do you like y/n?”
“She’s a sweet girl,” Ursa notes with a faint smile, “and she makes you both happy. So yes, I like her.”
“Then why doesn’t Dad?”
The Fire Lady’s smile fades into a remorseful frown, and she simply ushers her son forward with a shake of her head. “Let’s not worry about that now. You’re going to be late for your lesson.”
Zuko isn’t satisfied with her answer, but he isn’t give a chance to discuss it further with her. For now, he remains content with the fact that he likes you, and his mother likes you.
That is enough for him.
~~~
The day is calm as you carefully hang the clothes to dry and enjoy the warmth of the sun basking on your skin. It’s rare that you get tasked with the outdoor chores, so you savor the opportunity for as long as you can. Doing the royal family’s laundry certainly beats scrubbing the floors of the palace, and you are grateful the spirits have taken mercy upon you today.
You’re freshly fifteen and the summer is just beginning. You’ve grown into a well-mannered young woman, and you’re old enough now to be able to take on some of the work that once fell to your mother. One day you will take her place and continue to serve the royal family until you’re no longer physically able. You’ll never get to leave, but you consider yourself grateful to live on the palace grounds. You will forever have a roof over your head, food on the table, and, most importantly, your friends.
You take great care to pin Azula’s dresses down without getting any creases or wrinkles in the fabric, and you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice the figure carefully creeping up behind you. You’re too busy reciting the words to an old Fire Nation folk song your mother had taught you to pay any mind to your surroundings, and it gives Zuko the perfect opportunity to catch you by surprise.
“Y/n!” He exclaims with a grin as his hands land firmly upon your shoulders. You nearly jump out of your skin at the act, and your reaction has the Fire Prince laughing so hard his cheeks begin to hurt.
“Zuko!” You scold with an irritated scowl as you chuck a handful of clothespins at him in retaliation. “You need to stop doing that!”
“I’m sorry, you just make it so easy,” he teases with a light nudge to your side before taking it upon himself to pick up the pins you’d discarded.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to leave for Ember Island?” You ask him with a quizzical look as you resume your previous work of hanging the clothes.
“That’s actually what I was coming to talk to you about,” he admits with a sheepish smile. “I want you to come with us.”
“What? You’re not serious, are you?” You retort apprehensively, halting your movements to gauge his reaction for any hint of insincerity or humor.
“I am serious. You deserve to have fun once in a while too,” he notes with a careful smile. You’re too oblivious to notice the look of admiration on his face and definitely too concerned with finding a way to let him down gently to realize he’s inviting you because he likes you. Despite your own feelings for the Prince you’ve developed over the years, you’re much too self-depreciating to ever believe Zuko could possibly feel the same. If only you knew.
“I can’t just up and leave! There’s work to be done, a-and my mother would be so upset with me if I abandoned my chores and-“
“Azula will tell our father she wishes to bring you along as a personal servant so you can come with us, and someone else will be tasked with taking on your work while you’re away. There’s no way your mom could be upset with you for serving the Princess, could she?”
“Azula would really do that for me?” You question meekly, a hopeful glint in your eyes as you hang on to his every word. You’re trying your best not to get your hopes up, but you wish for nothing more than to leave the capital city to see the ocean for the first time and feel the sand beneath your feet. As the daughter of a servant and now a servant yourself, you know you’d never get a chance like this if not for the fact that the siblings had grown fond of you over your years of friendship together. You’re lucky, because you know without them you’d truly be nothing more than a floor scrubbing peasant.
“Of course she would, she wants you there just as much as I do,” Zuko assures you. Gently taking your hands in his own, he gives them a comforting squeeze and looks into your eyes with a loving smile. “We leave tomorrow morning. Bring enough clothes to last you three days and a bathing suit.”
“I don’t own one,” you admit with an embarrassed frown, but your friend doesn’t display any sign of judgement in the slightest towards your shortcomings.
“Then I’ll take you shopping myself when we get there.”
Your heart melts at his words, your gaze falling to the ground bashfully as you try not to dwell on the fact that he’s still holding your hands. You’re in love with the Prince, and the Prince is in love with you, and everyone but you has figured out just how much you mean to each other.
Even Fire Lord Ozai, who odiously watches the scene unfold before him from the top of the palace balcony.
~~~
The shores of Ember Island are beautiful.
The waves almost seem to sparkle underneath the moonlight as they crash peacefully against the shore, and down below the lively chatter of your friends carries through the air and fills your heart with contentment. You’ve had the most perfect time here at the beach, and it pains you to know that tonight will be your last night of freedom before you must return home and resume your life as a servant girl.
The wooden doors behind you carefully slide open and closed, and soon a familiar warmth joins you out on the balcony. For a while you say nothing, simply enjoying the closeness of him as you watch Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai practice tricks in the sand below. You don’t know how to thank the Prince for all he’s done for you, for always looking out for you since you were children, for never once treating you as less than for your heritage. You don’t know how to tell him that you love him with your entire being.
So he does it for you.
“I got you something,” Zuko says after a moment’s silence, waiting for you to turn your gaze to him so he may pull out a small clam from beneath his robes. You raise a curious eyebrow at his offering as he gestures for you to take it.
“A clam shell?” You note inquisitively as you turn the gift around in your palms, carefully feeling out its grooves and intricate ridges.
“Open it,” he directs you quietly, anxiously watching your movements with bated breath.
You smile curiously at your friend before delicately pulling the top half of the shell open to reveal the contents inside. Your eyes widen in surprise at the gift that greets you, and you immediately look up to Zuko to ensure this isn’t some kind of joke.
Inside the clam sits a beautiful gold necklace with a dainty sun pendant resting in the center that shimmers under the light of the moon. It’s beautiful, and it’s certainly worth more than your own life, which is why you immediately try to hand it back to him.
“I-I can’t accept this!” You hastily insist with a quick shake of your head as you struggle to return the clam to him. “It’s too nice!”
“You can accept this,” Zuko reassures you as he carefully pushes the gift back towards you. When his efforts fail due to your persistent attempts to give back the shell, he lets out a sigh and carefully removes the necklace from the clam. “Y/n, I want you to have it.”
“But why?” You demand apprehensively, almost flinching away when he moves towards you with the necklace. You’re completely overwhelmed by his gift and unsure of what it means or why you’d ever be deserving of such a thing. You don’t want to take advantage of his kindness or his status, and you feel like he’s done more than enough for you by bringing you along on this trip, so it just feels wrong of you to take it.
“Because you deserve nice things too,” Zuko explains, and after giving you a pointed look you finally allow him to carefully put the necklace on you. The sun rests daintily along your neck, and he thinks it suits you perfectly. “I brought you on this trip because I wanted you to have fun for once, but also because… well, because I love you, and I thought a romantic setting might make it easier to tell you that.”
“You love me?”
“You haven’t noticed?” He retorts with a meek smile. “I’m not the best at words, but I know that I’ve loved you since we were children feeding turtle ducks in the pond and playing tag in the gardens. You have the purest heart of anyone I know, the sweetest smile, you are everything to me. I hope that by accepting this gift, you’ll be accepting me as someone worthy enough to be your boyfriend.”
“Oh, Zuko…” you murmur softly, eyes full of tears as you throw yourself into his arms and hug him as tight as humanly possible. You’re still shocked by the fact that the boy you love will all your heart feels the same, but you try to remind yourself not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Zuko is right when he says that you deserve to enjoy what life has to offer just as much as he does, so maybe it’s time you finally start allowing yourself the chance to finally let your guard down. You can be more than just a servant girl from the palace.
You can be happy.
~~~
You sit quietly before the vanity mirror as your mother tediously brushes through your hair to ensure not a single strand is out of place. The wrinkles in her skin crease with her nerves as she carefully begins to pin your hair back into the perfect top knot. Immediately after your return home from Ember Island, you were informed that the Fire Lord wished to speak with you. You were expected to drop your chores for the day and make yourself decent before presenting yourself to him. His request to see you surprised you considering the fact you previously believed he didn’t even know of your existence, but it made you nervous all the same. If anything were to go wrong during your meeting, you’d be jeopardizing both yours and your mother’s jobs.
“Make sure to sit up straight and no slouching,” she reminds you quietly while stopping to admire her work. “Hold your tongue until he allows you to speak and thank him for all he has done for us. It is a great honor to speak to Fire Lord Ozai, so you must treat it as such.”
“Mother, what could the Fire Lord possibly want to talk to me about?”
She doesn’t meet your eyes at first, looking away as if contemplating carefully what her next words should be. With a sigh, she sets the brush down and looks at you through the reflection. “Word has spread quickly about you and Prince Zuko, and I think he knows.”
You swallow nervously at her admission, absently brushing your fingers against the sun that hangs around your neck. You never once considered what Zuko’s father would think about his son’s choice of a partner; Ursa had always treated you as one of her own, and Azula considered you to be a good friend, but what would Ozai say of the peasant girl who had stolen his son’s heart?
You don’t have much time to mull over it further as a guard arrives to escort you from your quarters to the throne room. All eyes seem to follow you as you walk through the palace, the gold and red hues overwhelming your senses as you do your best to remain calm. You have no idea what awaits you at the end of the hallway, but there’s no escape now as the grand doors open and you’re pushed inside.
Ozai sits on the throne with a wall of flames roaring behind him. His features are stoic but his gaze is menacing as his eyes watch your meager form approach. You immediately bow in respect to the man once you reach him and kneel before his seated figure. Just as your mother instructed, you say nothing until you are spoken to.
“So you’re the girl my son has chosen to be his partner?” He drawls with a raised brow, obviously not impressed by the person before him.
“Yes, sir. It is an honor to present myself to you, my Lord,” you profess as earnestly as possible while adding another bow for good measure. You need his approval not only to continue dating Zuko, but also to ensure you and your mother are both able to continue living behind the palace walls. Even if you are there as servants tucked away in the peasant quarters, it certainly is a better place to be than out in the streets.
“I know who you are, child,” Ozai scoffs callously as he peers down at you from his place on the throne. “You are the peasant girl who managed to worm her way into the lives of my children. You are a lowly servant with nothing to your name and nothing special about you, and yet you have managed to corrupt my only son."
“Fire Lord Ozai, I-I apologize if my actions have upset you,” you quickly try to interject, but he holds a hand up and signals you to halt your pathetic rambling. Ozai does not have the time nor care to hear your excuses or explanations. That’s not what this meeting is for.
“Do you know how poorly it would reflect on me to have Zuko galavanting around the palace with a servant? Do you know how poorly it reflects on him to be seen with you? It’s a disgrace, and it is something I will not tolerate.”
“I know,” you utter quietly, trying to make yourself appear as small as you feel on the inside. Despite what Zuko has told you, you know that his father is right. You are nothing compared to him. He is the sun, the Prince, the heir to the throne. His future ahead is bright, and there is much for him to accomplish. You have no future, no plans for your life, nothing as grand or important as him and Azula. You are not the sun or the moon or even the stars that hang in his sky, you are insignificant, and you will never be worthy enough to be his.
“A future Fire Lord cannot have a maid as a wife. You must break his heart so that he no longer wants anything to do with you, so that he can move on and find a girl more worthy of becoming the future Fire Lady. You must make it appear to be your own doing and not mine, otherwise it won’t work. Have I made myself clear, child?”
“Yes, Fire Lord Ozai,” you whisper softly, a single tear sliding down your cheek as you bow to the cruel man before you. “I understand.”
~~~
The clouds that hang overhead are gray as Zuko makes his way towards the servants’ quarters. It is unheard of for any royal to ever set foot on these grounds, and so all eyes watch the Prince curiously as he approaches your humble home and knocks gently on the door. Movement sounds from the other side, and after a moment he is met with the startled face of your mother. It’s clear that she hadn’t been expecting him, and he takes her by surprise when he bows to the woman in respect.
“I apologize for coming unannounced, but I was hoping I could speak to y/n,” he utters with a look of defeat on his face. His sullen features make his lack of sleep obvious, and his eyes are full of desperation. You’ve been avoiding him for weeks and he has no clue as to why, but he hopes to figure it out soon before he starts to spiral any further.
“She’s…” your mother begins to say, glancing unsurely behind her before looking back to him, “she’s not feeling well. You can come back another time.”
“But-“
“Please, Prince Zuko, we can’t risk you catching whatever it is she’s come down with. You must go.”
She gives him no time to argue before slamming the door in his face. Zuko is stunned, but his shock quickly turns to anger as he lets out a frustrated breath of flames from his mouth before stalking off to cool himself down.
His footsteps fade into the distance as he departs, and you can only sit by the window of your room and watch him walk away. There’s a tightness in your chest that makes you feel as if you can’t breathe, and once he finally disappears over the horizon you break down into an inconsolable mess.
You love Zuko with all of your heart, so it kills you to act as if he means nothing to you. You’re trying to do what Ozai has demanded of you, but it’s agonizing and difficult. You’re too much of a coward to face him and break it off for good, so you’ve resorted to avidly avoiding the Prince at all costs. You hope that by pushing him away he’ll take it upon himself to end the relationship; it would be much less painful that way, but he’s too stubborn for his own good, and he’s persisted despite your best efforts.
The days seem to blend together as you lock yourself in your room while your mother continues to turn Zuko away. You haven’t done any of your chores or worked in days, but Ozai has not faulted you for your incompletion of tasks. Breaking Zuko’s heart is your task, and so long as you keep your word he couldn’t care less what you did with yourself.
After another week has passed, suffocation finally catches up to you and you’re forced to leave your room in order to get some fresh air. You sneak out at nightfall when the palace is quiet and your mother is sleeping so that no one can detect your presence. You retreat to the well out in the back and stare contemplatively into the water below. Clutching the sun that hangs from the gold chain around your neck, you admire the moon’s reflection in the ripples and wish you could be anywhere else but here in the Fire Nation.
“I thought I’d find you here,” a voice utters quietly, causing you to jump in alarm at the intrusion. You turn to meet the solemn gaze of the Prince, and as your back hits the cool stones of the well you find that you are cornered. You can’t avoid him now, and it’s a fact both of you are aware of.
“Zuko, I… I was just leaving,” you stammer hurriedly as you try to push your way past him, but he catches you by the arm before you can get away.
“No, not until you talk to me!” He demands, his eyes full of desperation and despair. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, yet you keep avoiding me. Why? Was it something I did?”
“No, Zuko, you didn’t do anything,” you insist despite refusing to meet his gaze. You’re terrified that someone will see you both together and alert Ozai, and you wish he would just release you so you could go back to hiding away in your room.
“Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Slowly, you peek your head up to meet his exasperated face. It seems he’s not going to give up without a fight, so you’re going to have to resort to doing what you’ve been trying to avoid this entire time.
“I don’t love you.”
“W-What?” Zuko stammers in quiet surprise, his hold on your arm loosening slightly. He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing from you, and his mind is scrambling to process your words.
“I don’t love you. I want nothing to do with you,” you repeat firmly, your eyes hardening as you stare up at him and yank yourself free from his grasp.
“Y/n, you don’t mean that-“
“I do mean it! I feel nothing for you, Zuko. I never have. I just felt like I couldn’t say no to you because you’re the Prince, so I had no choice but to say yes to being your girlfriend.”
Hurt flashes across his features and you’re dying inside at having to be so cruel to him. The heart of your childhood best friend is in your hands and you crush it with every word despite how much it pains you. But it’s better for both of you this way, it must be. Ozai will never let you be happy together, but apart he still has a chance to capture the promised future ahead of him. You’re doing him a favor, and you hope one day he’ll be able to see it that way too.
“I don’t understand,” he murmurs weakly, tears beginning to well in his eyes. Then, with frustration clear in his tone, “This doesn’t make any sense!”
“Did you honestly think we could actually be together?” You retort in disbelief. “Azula always said you were a fool, but I didn’t think you were this naive. A servant and a Prince don’t belong together, and you’re the only one who can’t seem to get that!”
“Alright, fine,” Zuko mutters indignantly. His sadness has quickly morphed into anger, and you hate the way it makes you feel. “Can I just ask you one thing?”
You say nothing in response, and he takes your silence as a sign to continue.
“If you don’t love me, then why are you still wearing the necklace?”
Your eyes widen slightly as your hand immediately flies to your neck to clutch the pendant, and your heart slowly begins to sink to your stomach as you realize you’ve been caught in your lie. It’s your turn now to be at a loss for words, unsure what to say as you simply stare up at him with your mouth slight agape.
“You don’t mean what you’re saying,” Zuko says firmly as he moves closer to you. “Someone else is speaking for you, aren’t they?”
“I…”
“What’s going on, y/n?” He presses gently, carefully resting a hand upon your cheek. “Why are you acting this way?”
“I can’t tell you,” you argue weakly, your own eyes becoming full of tears as you allow yourself to melt into his touch. You’ve missed the feeling of his warmth and the comfort of his closeness, and despite your mind screaming at you to remove yourself from him your heart keeps you planted in place.
“That’s nonsense, of course you can. You’ve always been able to tell me anything, so why can’t you now?”
“Can’t you just believe me when I tell you it’s for your own good?” You plead emphatically despite the wavering of your voice.
“How can this possibly be for my own good?!” He retorts in exasperation. “I’ve been miserable without you. Life feels empty when you aren’t around, and I don’t know how to deal with the fact that the girl I’ve loved all my life can’t seem to stand me.”
“It’s not like that!” You cry defensively as the tears finally begin to fall.
“Then what is it?!” Zuko demands, and you can’t seem to take any more of this torture. The lies are killing you, and you can’t help but to finally crack under pressure.
“I’m not good enough for you!” You finally exclaim as you pull yourself away from his touch. You try to choke back your sobs but the ache in your chest makes the task difficult, and you can do nothing but let your words flow freely after keeping them bottled in for weeks. “I-I have nothing to offer you, nothing that makes me special, nothing ahead of me like you do. It’s an embarrassment to the Fire Lord for you to be with me, and it will be an embarrassment for you to have me as your Fire Lady.”
Stunned by your admission, it takes Zuko a moment to process your words. He steps towards you and you flinch, effectively breaking his heart in the process. It’s clear you’re frightened, but not of him. Your fear is geared toward someone else, and the culprit must be responsible for you now feeling this way.
“Who told you such nonsense?”
“Your father,” you admit quietly much to Zuko’s dismay. His eyes immediately harden and his chest is immediately tight with anger, but he does his best to keep his emotions at bay so as to not upset you further. “He spoke to me when we returned from Ember Island and told me we couldn’t be together. Ozai demanded I break your heart so that you can move on and find another girl more suited for this life than I could ever be. I didn’t want to, I still don’t want to, but I’m doing this so that you can have a better future. I’ll only hold you back, Zuko.”
After taking a moment to digest your words, Zuko carefully steps towards you again. You don’t reject his advances this time, so he allows himself the opportunity to carefully wipe away the steady tears that fall down your cool cheeks. Despite how much of a mess you assume you must look like, the Prince still sees you as the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on.
“I don’t care what my father says,” he assures you gently as he takes your hands in his own. “You’re not an embarrassment, and there’s no other girl that could ever compare to you. I love you, y/n, and I’m not going to let anyone ever get in the way of that.”
“You mean that?” You ask with a quiet sniffle, holding his hands tight as if he’ll leave if you let go.
“Every word. Let my father and anyone else who disapproves of our relationship say what they want to say. I want to be with you, and I hope you still want to be with me too.”
His looks to you with pleading eyes that seek your reassurance, and for a moment you hesitate. Being with Zuko is all you’ve ever wanted, and now he stands here before you professing his loyalty and his love to you. The boy from your childhood had stolen your heart, and you’d be lying if you said you wanted it back.
You know being with him won’t be easy, especially not with his father’s adamant disapproval of your relationship, but you trust Zuko, and so you have to trust that everything will turn out okay. You meet his desperate gaze and gift him a faint smile, and despite knowing you’ll regret this, you wordlessly lean in to meet his lips in a kiss.
You can worry about Ozai’s wrath later. But for now, you allow yourself to melt into his embrace by the moonlit well as you share your first kiss in weeks. It feels right being in his arms once more after spending so much time apart, and you hope you’ll never have to be without his touch ever again.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu
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bloompompom · 18 days
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˗ˏˋ guilty pleasures ˎˊ˗
☆ content: eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, reader cheats on her loser boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, masturbation, pussy job, just filth, written very fast my apologies, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised 18+ ☆ word count: ~4.2k ☆ a/n: just a warm-up that got out of hand
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Your boyfriend sucks. That isn’t an opinion, either. It’s a fact. The sky is blue; what goes up will always come back down; your boyfriend is and will forever be a jackass. 
At least, according to your friends, Eren in particular. Sometimes according to you, too—let’s not leave that part out, it’s important.
Countless times, your boyfriend had driven you to wit’s end and back because yes, you always took him back. You aren’t the type to leave a kicked puppy out in the rain or a groveling man lying on your doorstep. He’d come crawling back, looking all lovesick and apologetic, and you’re ashamed to admit it hasn’t failed him yet. 
Listen, Eren is just your friend. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of your relationship any more than the next guy. What he knows for sure is that your boyfriend generally sucks as a human being, and he knows you know it, too. 
And it’s about time he does something about it. 
Tonight’s as good a night as ever to make a move. Eren’s roommate, Armin, insists on hosting a game night every other week-ish to ‘get the gang together,’ as he likes to say. But game nights are hard. No one likes to learn rules. So game nights soon devolved into movie nights, which turned into drinking nights after no one could agree on a movie.
That’s the plan for this evening: drinking the beer Jean brought along with a few leftover seltzers from the last time they got together, and spending some time with you. Alone.
You walked into the apartment huffing and puffing, pissed over whatever your boyfriend did or didn’t do. You’ve spent most of the night wallowing in the displeasure, trying to hide it, but it’s not working; Eren can tell you’re furiously texting Sasha every little detail despite sitting across from one another.
If you were to ask any of your friends, they’d say they previously believed you and Eren would date. You had that energy about you—still do, frankly. But then you met your boyfriend and you’ve been seeing each other ever since. On and off, of course.
Eren dated other people, too. And sure, he liked them, but that’s all. Finding happiness with something (or someone) is difficult when he constantly sees the greener grass on the other side.
He used to believe it was a timing thing, the reason you never hooked up. It made sense back then. But now, Eren knows it’s not a timing thing because he’s single and you can dump your boyfriend any time you want—if that’s what you want. 
Eren can pry. He can be forthright and ask what you’re texting Sasha about. But that’d get him nowhere; you’d undoubtedly reply, ‘Girl stuff,’ and let the subject die there. 
He noticed you don’t talk about your boyfriend problems when he’s around. Not that he expects you to. He would have written it off by now if he hadn’t heard you confiding in Armin about it. Jean and Connie, too. How frustrating it is that you never tell the one genuinely curious person. The one who wants to know and wants to show you how much better things could be, with him. 
So Eren does just that. He catches you at the right moment, once it’s just the two of you. Armin was in bed and Sasha already left, taking Jean and Connie with her. The only guests remaining are you and Mikasa—she’s been sitting heavy-eyed on the couch for the last twenty minutes and would probably be out cold in the next ten. 
Then there’s you, all squirmy beside him. 
“Are you cold?” Eren asks. He knows you’re not, but he also knows you’d never answer the more direct ‘Are you okay?’
“I’m fine,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m just—”
“Having a long night?” Eren guesses.
You merely sigh, but it’s weighty enough that it sounds like you’ve been holding it in for a while, like you must’ve needed it. 
“That’s one way of putting it.”
It’s vague, but you still feel you said too much.
You fiddle with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. You focus on that rather than the fact that you can no longer bring yourself to meet Eren’s eyes; it’s too much, it makes your insides burn uncomfortably hot.
You can’t deny how Eren makes you feel. Even more, you can’t deny that you came over tonight with him on your mind—the sort of thoughts you shouldn’t have while tangled up with another guy. 
“Is there anything I can do,” Eren slides closer to you, “to make your night better?”
Yes, you think. Yes, yes, yes.
You shake your head, gaze fixed on his leg pressing against yours. 
“It’s not your problem to fix,” you try to assure, but it lacks any sureness. Instead, it’s demure and… inviting? You almost made it sound like a dare. 
“That doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Eren says, always up for a challenge, especially if you’re the prize at the end. 
You’re better than this, you tell yourself. You’re above this. 
At the same time, you can’t help but think: what would your boyfriend do if the roles were reversed? You’ve argued about his fidelity before—hell, you argued about it hours ago—and you have no more clarity than you did from the start. 
Maybe you haven’t been perfect, either. Maybe there were times you should’ve told Eren to cut out the flirting and even times you shouldn’t have reciprocated it. You thought it was harmless then, that you’d never end up exactly where you are now. You also never imagined how invigorating, how right, it would feel. 
Eren places his large hand on your thigh, tentatively at first, light despite the guilt weighing down on you. When you don’t stop him, he becomes confident. He slides his hand higher, squeezes you gently. It’s chaste, something that could still pass as friendly if not for the way it made you weak.
I am absolutely not above this.
That’s how you ended up in his bedroom. Eren whispered for Mikasa and when she didn’t respond, he took it as the all-clear—that no one would know if you decided to head somewhere more private. Eren snuck you down the hall, shut the door behind you, and had you to himself, for the first time. 
Your heart thrums in your ears. It’s adrenaline, anticipation, a rush you never want to end. You hardly hear him when he asks, “How can I make your night better?” He nears you in a step. “What would you like me to do?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” you murmur. He wants to hear you say it: that you want him. You want his mouth on yours, maybe on your neck, his hands on your chest, smoothing down your hips and between your legs. You don’t give him the satisfaction of it. 
You lean into Eren without a word. He moves with you, meeting you halfway. You lead, he follows. You’re the one in the relationship, not him. 
You tilt your chin high to meet him. He catches it between his fingers, gently guiding you to him. Your noses brush; your lips don’t, but you’re so, so close. Close enough for your lashes to flutter softly against his cheek, for you to feel every one of his hot breaths as they break over your lips. It’s intoxicating. It’s not enough. But you can’t make yourself seal the fateful gap between you. 
“I can’t,” you regretfully stammer. It physically hurts to say the words. You wound the devil sitting atop your shoulder.
Eren doesn’t say anything, only pulls away from you. You don’t feel in control of your hand when it snatches a fistful of his shirt. You keep him there, still as close as before, eyes flitting between his pupils, big and blown, and his lips. He remains frozen, silent. He lets you decide where this would or wouldn’t go. 
“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know what do to,” you bemoan. Your head is a spinny, screwed-up mess. Screwed up from forbidden fantasies and raging hormones and the pool of warmth spreading in the depths of your stomach—all from him. 
“What do you want to do?” Eren asks in a low voice. 
It’s coaxing, cloying, but it’s needful at the same time. It’s a voice you’ve never heard from him, yet it’s familiar. It’s reminiscent of the same need burning inside you, so hot you think it might create a hole, one perhaps only he can fill.
You lick your bottom lip only to find your mouth has gone dry. 
Eren nudges the tip of his nose against yours. “I can tell you what I want to do, if that would help.”
He nuzzles lower, beneath your jawline. He doesn’t kiss you there—no, he wouldn’t do that. What he does is worse. It’s teasing. His breath fans over your ear and sends a shudder down your spine. He needs you not only to hear but to feel every word, every dirty thing he has imagined doing with you.
“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he breathes against the side of your face, warming you from the inside out. He clasps his hand over yours, then slips it between your legs. “And I want to watch.”
Eren touches your hand, encouraging you to rub. You feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes, like there’s a fire in your belly. You finally let its flames engulf you and god, burning never felt so damn good. 
You’re dizzy, you’re flustered—how could he possibly say that with such calmness? More than anything, you’re dumb to everything except the boy in front of you. 
“Can you do that for me?” he asks, smooth and soothing. “I’ll only look. I won’t touch, I promise.”
It’s a lousy excuse for a loophole. Actually, it doesn’t even qualify as a loophole.
Eren leans back, holding your shoulders in his hands. He looks you in the eyes and again, he insists, “No touching.”
Loophole or not, you can’t find it within you to care. You trust him, you think. Either that or your brain short-circuits because you can only repeat back, “No touching,” as you bob your pretty little head. 
Eren smiles down at you, runs his knuckles down the side of your face. It’s gentle, it’s praising, it brings—no, it yanks you back to him. 
“Lay on the bed,” he says. 
You do as you’re told, laying back on your forearms. He tugs your bottoms off with ease and reveals a pair of pale blue panties—a telling color. When you spread your legs for him, he can see how you’ve stained them with your arousal, soaked and ruined after some innocent teasing. 
You touch yourself without him having to ask. You trace over the damp patch and play with your clit through the fabric. He sees how easily your panties slip between your folds, how fucking wet you are, and has to stifle a curse.
Eren drops to his knees, nestled between your legs at the foot of the bed. He has a hand on either of your thighs, almost white-knuckling the plush skin.
“Look at that.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “You like it when I talk to you, huh? When I tell you what to do?”
You whine at the words, rub your clit faster. You want to come. 
“So needy. What’s the rush?” Eren tuts. He climbs onto the bed, propping his back against the headboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As he says it, his hand travels lower. Dangerously low. It draws your attention to how hard he is, his insistent cock tenting in his sweatpants. He palms over it once, then twice, then grips himself through the fabric. Fuck. 
You stare with too much interest. The corner of Eren’s lip curls into a smirk when you have to close your hungry mouth. He’s just as greedy, though, just as riled up as you. Even the touch of his own hand has his arm muscles tightening and twitching.
You crawl over to his side and try to relax into the pillows as best as you can. Your shoulders droop, your knees fall to either side, but there’s a tremble to your hand as it returns between your legs. Your touch remains feather-light, almost a tickle, as you dance a finger along the hem of your underwear. You watch lecherously, with your head lolled to one side as Eren mirrors you—you’re still leading. His thumb dips below his waistband.
This still counts as ‘no touching,’ right?
Eren shoves his hand down his sweatpants. You can’t see it when he takes his cock in his hand, only the outline of him slowly working over his length underneath the fabric. 
Your eyes ask the question your lips wouldn’t dare to ask. Eren responds, “You first.” His eyes flicker to your crotch—your panties, more specifically. 
Your fingers stutter and pause. You’ve already dipped your toes into the corrupt waters, so you might as well take the full plunge.  
You tuck your underwear to the side, pinching them in the crease of your thigh. Your fingers are almost cold against your wet, hot skin and you shiver in response, letting the feeling wreck down your spine. You clench around nothing, whimpering just as helplessly. 
“Fuck,” Eren breathes, an incidental hiss.  
He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and his cock slaps his front. He aches for anything more than his hand, but it’s all he has right now. It’s agonizing how what he needs is so damn close, but out of reach. 
He pumps himself faster, tightening his grip around the sensitive tip to mimic your cunt.
He can only catch glimpses of it. Your panties persistently get in his way, and when they aren’t, you’re having to tug them back to the side. Your gasps and moans turn to little grunts, your frustration staving off your orgasm even further.
Eren goes to grab your underwear but stops himself short.
“Take them off,” he tells you, somewhere between a request and a demand. If this is his one chance to be with you, to see you, then he’s going to see all of you. 
You listen. Your hand slips from between your legs and a sticky string connecting your fingers to your cunt snaps. You hope Eren didn’t see it, but you’re sure he did based on the impatient sound that comes from the back of his throat. You lift your hips from the bed and shimmy your underwear down your legs. Then you kick them to the floor. 
You don’t settle back into the bed before Eren says, “I want to see more of you,” because this still isn’t enough. “C’mere.”
He adjusts you to his liking until you’re in front of him, lying back on your elbows, spread, with your feet caging his hips. It’s a vulnerable position, you admit. One where you’re completely bare and completely on display and there’s no shying away. You may have even found it embarrassing if not for how turned on you are. The urge to come is nagging, simmering for so long that you fear you may boil over and do something you’ll regret later. 
“Shit.” Eren’s in awe of the sight before him: your glistening cunt, swollen and practically begging to come, and the dreamy expression on your face. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever looked, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Your eyes are as alert as they are moony, as confident as they are flustered; a doe locked in his headlights, willing to eat out of his palm despite her better judgment. 
“Spread yourself for me,” he murmurs. You do it with two fingers. “God, look at you.”
So pretty. What a shame it was that such a pretty pussy would go unfucked tonight. 
Eren leans back again, this time with a complacent hand tucked behind his head. He spits into his other, then slathers it over his length, unblushing to how your eyes follow every fluid movement.
“Go ahead,” he says, still calmly fisting his cock. “For real this time. Make yourself come for me.”
The encouragement travels straight to your core. You sink your middle finger inside first, then you add another. Your walls pulse, sucking the digits in further. You curve them, drag them in and out, in and out, until you find a pace that has your thighs threatening to snap shut. You pull out of yourself one last time and, with properly wetted fingers, you return to your neglected clit. It only takes a few slick circles before your breath quickens. 
“Yeah, just like that—fuck.” Eren feels his cock throb against his palm. He slows, pulling and tightening his grip, still pretending his hand is anywhere near as soft as your pussy. “You’ve listened so well. You deserve to come, don’t you think?”
You moan something incoherent.
“Tell me,” he says, smug and urgent, somehow at once. “Tell me what a good girl you’ve been. That you deserve to come.”
Slippery, unforgiving sounds fill the room, from the both of you, but you’ve already shed any shred of decency you had left. You dipped your toes first, and then you took a fateful dive. But now, the current has stripped away any semblance of control you had—or thought you had.
You’ve become a passenger inside your own body. Every motion feels wild and unpredictable, yet intimately inevitable. It’s a kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations. It’s strange and exhilarating. It’s this raw and primal surrender to only what’s physical and nothing more. 
Flowery language aside, you know one thing for sure: as much as you enjoy hearing him talk filth to you; he enjoys hearing you just as much. 
“I’m a—ah, I’m your good girl,” you moan shakily. Your skin becomes unbelievably hot, your fingers stuttering, struggling to keep up with your neediness. “I d-deserve to come.”
His good girl.
Eren’s stomach lurches, abdominals tightening. He nearly comes.
What a fucking gift you are. How lucky Eren feels to witness how you get yourself off when no one’s around, how you like to tease yourself—maybe even pretend he’s the one teasing you.
You bring a hand to your chest, gingerly caressing the tips of your fingers along your nipple that pokes through your shirt. You slide the hand over your breast before groping it fully. 
“Can I see your tits?” Eren blurts. Once again, there’s no use for dancing around the truth of the matter anymore: you both wanted to get off. 
“You first.” You giggle a little, all breathy, then restate, “Take off your shirt.”
Eren smiles at you before stripping, revealing a cute flush creeping up his chest. You stick to your promise, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside. You skipped putting on a bra this evening because it was supposed to be a quiet night-in with friends, but it worked out pretty well for this, too. 
You graze your fingers over the peaks of your breasts, bouncing just so with every rub, rub, rub of your opposite hand. You bite back a harsh gasp, but little hums escape past your teeth, anyway. 
Eren’s thighs twitch. He fights the urge to buck his hips, to fuck up into nothing. His pants turn strained, exasperated. He thinks he might be numb to his hand at this point. He could use his spit again, but why should he have to when you’re right there, as desperate as he is?
Your name’s a raspy plea on his tongue. His hands smooth up your legs as he coos, “I need to feel you, baby.” His thumbs stroke your inner thighs, growing extremely close to the apex between them. “Need you to help me come. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
Eren’s hands wrap around your ankles, pulling a yelp from you as he drags you toward him.
“I won’t put it in,” he promises. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your cunt against the underside of his cock. His hand somehow looks small in comparison as he holds himself at his base. He angles his cock until it’s about as close as it can be without touching you. “Please.”
Your heart pounds against your ribcage, but even more frantically, it pulses between your legs, loud and demanding. It’s as impossible to ignore as the man before you. Hot and horny, with messy hair and pretty pink cheeks and an even prettier cock that leaks at the mere thought of touching you, staring at you like he wishes to devour you whole.
You nod, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to push his cock between your slit. You watch him do it, sitting higher on your elbows. Even with the faintest amount of pressure, your jaw goes slack. 
He rocks his hips, gliding his cock through you, up and down, with the ridge of his head nudging your clit. Your skin prickles despite the thin layer of sweat you’ve accumulated.
You raise your hips, dragging your pussy over him, and bring yourself back down to the bed. His cock jolts. You feel it. You repeat the undulating motion again and again, effortlessly, because you can’t recall a time you’ve been wetter. So wet he slips out a time or two. He takes advantage of it once, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit.
Eren gives a low chuckle when your head falls back between your shoulder blades. “What a pretty little mess you are.”
You tilt your hips so he’s back in place, hitting your clit just right, over and over. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake, swaying like they may give out. He steadies you, resting his hand on the divot of your hip. 
“Oh, god—Eren.” Your voice pitches on a broken moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”
His hand curves around your side, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. He uses the grip to keep you moving, to guide you through it. He barrels you down the hill toward your release, and you can’t stifle a single cry as they spill from you.
“Yeah, that’s it. Let it all out, baby,” Eren encourages, saccharine as always but airless. Though his own release is imminent, he refuses to allow it to happen before yours. 
He flattens his fingers against his cock, pressing and adding delicious pressure. He proves how heavy, how hard, he is for you—how much better he’d feel inside you. The mere thought of it makes you groan. You push back on him instinctively, arching your back as you teeter on the edge of your undoing.
“So fucking hot,” Eren grunts, thrusting as if he were truly fucking you. He meets you each time you bear down on him, his pelvis slapping against you as his hips rise from the bed. “So fucking hot.”
That familiar feeling fizzes in your stomach, swarmy and radiating through you. It sparks in the tips of your fingers, even in your toes, and then your orgasm rips through you. Your entire being tenses, fists knotting themselves into the sheets and eyes screwing shut. The pleasure is white-hot and leaves you with stars behind your eyelids.
Eren urges you to open your eyes. “Keep ‘em on me while you come.” 
You try your best; you don’t let your eyes roll back. What’s hidden behind your fluttering lashes is pornographic. Your soaked thighs—his soaked thighs. You don’t even want to think about the blankets below you. 
You curse and cry his name. You look ruined, with eyebrows pinched and pulled together, your mouth hanging open like you want to scream out your orgasm. Eren crudely imagines how wrecked you’d look, how much better you’d feel, if you were coming with him inside you.
Your knees snap together, thighs sealing shut around his cock. He continues to fuck between them, against your pulsing, oversensitive pussy. Your body is spent and shaking, and he is right there with you. The sinewy muscles of his chest flex as he builds toward his climax.
“God, fuck,” Eren pants. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come all over this pussy.”
When he does, it’s with his head thrown back and a beautiful groan. His body is flush with yours, his cock spilling across your legs. Come drips down the creases of your thighs, smearing with the last few pumps as he draws out every drop. He can’t believe he could feel so good from something as pathetic as grinding.
Your body lies limp, sprawling across the bed with your legs still draped over him. You wait for some post-horny clarity to smack you across the face, but the only slap you feel is the truth: you deserve better. You aren’t going back.
You stay there, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, then blink, Eren’s above you, taking your cheek in his hand. His fingers curl around the side of your face before he places his mouth on yours. He’s soft, both how he feels and how he kisses you, with lips slotted perfectly against yours, coaxing them open with his tongue.
You finally let him touch you this way; you kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you wish for the moment to stay, just for a little longer.
804 notes · View notes
nastybuckybarnes · 1 year
Text
Comfortable
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.
Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really
Word Count: 2.8K
A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much! 
~*~
“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”
The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.
“Barnes lacking?”
You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.
“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”
Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”
You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.
“I... I fake it.”
The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.
“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.
“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”
You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”
Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.
Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.
The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.
“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.
You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.
Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.
If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.
The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.
“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”
You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.
You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.
“I just... I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.
Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.
“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.
“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”
You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.
“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”
He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.
“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”
You take another deep breath then slowly nod.
“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.
Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.
“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”
He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.
You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”
He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.
“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”
You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.
“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.
“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”
Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.
“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”
He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.
“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”
You nod again.
“Okay.”
He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.
“Okay.”
~*~
The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.
You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.
He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.
“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”
You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.
“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.
He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.
You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.
Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.
“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”
You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.
And to him, you might as well be.
“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”
How could you possibly say no to that?
When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.
He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.
“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.
You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.
“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.
He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.
You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.
“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”
He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.
He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?
It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.
Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.
Fuck, you look gorgeous.
It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.
“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”
God, hearing that is like music to his ears.
He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.
You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.
A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.
Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.
He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.
Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.
He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.
He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.
Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.
“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.
You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.
“Words, baby. I need words.”
You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.
“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.
He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.
You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.
“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.
You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.
He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.
And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.
Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.
“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”
Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.
He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.
“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.
“Right there... oh fuck, please...”
He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.
He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.
You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.
You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.
“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”
He nods, showering your face in kisses.
“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.
His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.
Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.
Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.
Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.
Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.
God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.
His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.
He did that.
He made you feel that good.
He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.
And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?
6K notes · View notes
monamipencil · 13 days
Text
— jealousy, jealousy | k.mg
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“want me to fuck you loudly so that she could hear it?” 
synopsis; a trip to the convenience store with your boyfriend takes an unexpected turn.
pairings; mingyu x fem! reader | genre; slight angst, smut, established relationship | w.c; 800+ | warnings; mentions of food, marking kink, possessiveness, exhibitionism, fingering, overuse of 'baby', slight dry humping, orgasm denial (f. receiving), a mention of punishment. | a/n; yea.. my old blog was deleted and im reposting.. dont mind me.
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you’re jealous. quite jealous. 
The taste of iron greets your tongue when you lick your lips. The bruise he had given you. You lift your hand involuntarily to touch the blooms of hickeys that sit on your neck, discreetly covered by your boyfriend’s hoodie. He marked you up in all ways. For everyone to see. to know. That you’re his. But him? 
Your eyes reluctantly dart towards mingyu and the part-timer, who is clearly hitting on him. You can’t help but roll your eyes and scoff. The annoying knot in your stomach tightens when you hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke she just made. You resort to picking on your nails, trying to drown out everything. 
But you know you have to address this someday. And it might be today. Address the fact that your boyfriend will never be just yours. Your heart uncomfortably twists at that. It was indeed true. 
Mingyu is an eye candy. The heartstopper. No matter where you go, the limelight will always be on him. Good looks, personality, intelligence. He’s got the whole pack. It’s as if God took his sweet time sculpting his heart, mind, and body.  
“Hey, baby,” you flinch at the sound of his voice and sigh, placing a hand over your heart. mingyu eyes you in confusion, and with a small smile on his lips, he apologizes for scaring you. Sending a half-hearted nod his way, you bring the food closer to your side. 
It was your idea. To go to the nearby convenience store to get food after an intense love-making session that left you tired and hungry. You didn’t accept his offer to cook, knowing that he was tired too. But frankly, you lost your appetite. You toy with your food, drawing shapes in the sauce. 
With a loud sigh, you stand, muttering to him that you want to buy something. He nods and tries his best to reply with his ramen-filled mouth. You groan as soon as you’re out of his sight. A part of you knows it’s not his fault. And the other part reasons that he should know how it would feel since he, himself is the possessive type. 
You take something random from the aisle after a moment of consideration and turn to return to the table when a hand roughly pulls your hips back. You gasp, hearing mingyu’s hushed voice, “want me to fuck you loudly so that she could hear it?” 
You bite your lip, swallowing the moan that the lewd thought elicited in you. His fingers dig into the exposed skin of your thigh, and he grinds his clothed crotch against your hip. You let out small gasps and bated breaths as he continues to grind himself harder. Your (his) hoodie is unzipped halfway to expose your neck, which he marks yet again. 
“I’m yours, baby. don’t you know that? hmm? I can prove it.” he whispers, his hands slipping into your panties. His other hand keeps your mouth open, and a moan escapes your lips. The cool wind hitting your skin makes you shiver, and him toying with your clit adds to it. 
“mingyu,” you mewl out his name, your hips grind onto his fingers, chasing friction. 
“God, you’re so wet. And we just fucked a hour ago.” 
He pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt, pushing them in and out at a comfortable pace. mingyu stops his ministrations and curls his fingers against that spot. It forces you to gasp and tug at his hair. He removes his hand from your mouth, and the saliva-coated fingers find your nipple under your shirt. 
Your body hasn’t yet recovered from the previous carnal venture. Every touch has you seeing stars, and you can feel the orgasm ripping through already. But it stops when he removes his hands from your needy core. “Not here. Can’t have my baby walking with wet shorts back home,” he laughs at your needy figure and kisses your strained neck muscles. 
Mingyu holds you against him till you come down from your high. His hands massage your body, and he softly whispers that he’s only yours. It brings a smile to your face, and all ugly feelings are thrown out the window. 
“I love you, baby,” he whispers against your cheeks with a love-sick look in his eyes. You chuckle and whisper the same back to him. Reaching to hold his face, you lean in, but you’re cut off by the part-timer. 
Annoyance runs through your veins, but you’re satisfied to find her shocked state at your intimate position with mingyu. You press a kiss to his lips, eyes still on her. A cocky smile plays on your lips, and your heart feels light when you pull back. Mingyu shakes his head when you shoot him a sickeningly-sweet smile and laughs, playing into your game. 
You pack the food, not wanting to waste the money, and leave the store. But not before you flaunt the love bites gifted by your boyfriend. All exhaustion seems to have left you as you happily skip in the street. He skips along with you, blushing and laughing at the scandalising act you both pulled. You let him do so while he can. And your boyfriend links hands with you, oblivious to the punishment awaiting him. 
a reblog?
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tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia
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mondaymelon · 7 months
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— “𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞…” ♡
໒꒱ || :feat~ xiao, kazuha, heizou, wanderer x gn!reader:
໒꒱ || cw: fluff <3 modern!au, the two of you live together, established relationship, wanderer has anger issues, reader needs an oscar !!
⤷ jokingly ignoring your anemo boyfriend ♡
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“...Did I do something not to your liking?”
XIAO’s frantic, even if it doesn’t show on his displeased expression. And his worries aren’t without reason - you’ve been ignoring his presence since he came home from an outing this afternoon. It’s already evening, yet you still haven’t uttered a word to him, only occasionally sending him complicated glances that he can’t even begin to unravel. He knows your heart well, that much is true, yet right now his senses have been cast into an abyss of confusion.
You cast him a sideways look. “No, nothing.” Even as the male visibly brightens at the fact that you’ve finally acknowledged him, you still seem as offset as before. It’s rather laughable how this entire matter is bringing him back to when the two of you first met, when he still acted so bristlingly cold to you, and how your warm disposition had melted that away… the light scowl on your face proved to serve that he had made a mistake.
What kind of mistake? Perhaps he’d never know. Xiao thought that he had been acting well recently, hadn’t lashed out with his sharp tongue or started a dispute with a particularly foolish person, yet perhaps he had slipped without his knowledge, and you had been there as his silent witness.
“Nothing? If I’ve done anything to upset you, please, tell me what it was.” 
“I said it’s nothing.”
The frown on his face only deepens. Were you testing him? “If I hadn’t done anything wrong, then why won’t you look at me?” You only remain silent, and while Xiao isn’t hurt, the adeptus is utterly clueless about what to do in a situation like this. His voice grows soft, leaning closer to you and staring into your eyes even as you evade his.
“Please look at me, love.”
It’s hard to utter those words, especially when his instincts are failing him, yet the male jolts as you let out a laugh.
“Ahahaa- Xiao, what are you- Aha-!” You stop for a breath, still laughing quietly. Great, now Xiao is even more confused. Why were you laughing? Was it because of him? Either way, he’s just glad that he’s rid the scowl on your face.
“I’m sorry, but… just what do you mean?”
“Nonono, I’m the one who should be apologizing.” You shake your head slightly, smiling. “I thought it’d be funny to prank you, but I didn’t expect it to be that effective…”
Xiao blinks. “So…”
“It was a joke.”
“Ah. Is that so? However…”
You blink, and you can feel his presence behind you, his whisper tickling your ears as he speaks. His voice is low, a near growl as his sturdy arms pull you closer. “That lost time. When you evaded my gaze and affection.”
“You better make it up to me.” ♡
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“Are you sure you’re alright, dearest?”
You can see the sincere concern reflected in KAZUHA’s crimson eyes. He’s keeping his distance, yet he knows something is off, and it makes him unreasonably uneasy. The way you’re acting now isn’t something he hasn’t seen before. Kazuha’s been through much, and he knows what hurt looks like. It’s hard to stay silent, but he knows that he won’t be able to reach you at the moment. Sometimes, walls that were put up could only lower over time.
“I’m fine.” As if that were true - then why was your voice so cold? The male’s heart aches as he watches you disappear into your room, the door closing shut behind you. Ah, even writing a poem wouldn’t be able to capture his feelings right now. Kazuha wants to take you in his arms, to embrace you, to hold you tight as he whispers to you that everything will be okay. Yet even for the person who understands you best, he knows that what you need is rest, not whatever else he could provide.
He sits in front of your door, his head leaning against the wood. He’ll wait until you’re ready to talk to him, even if that time wouldn’t come soon. It’s silent, that is, until he hears a faint sound. Laughter? His face visibly brightens, only to grow confused as he hears the words, “Holy shit, I am one very good actor-”
He calls out your name, a stunned expression appearing on his face as your door swings open, your surprised eyes meeting his. “Ah, were you lurking there?” There’s a visible grin on your face as you let out a little laugh. “I should’ve expected that much, you wouldn’t simply brush away the incident like that, would you? Ah, to think the prank would be found out so easily…” You let out a playful sigh.
“Wh- What is… all of this?” His expression is one of distant amazement, crimson eyes wide as he glances at your beaming self. Sure, he knew that your disposition was often teasing, but to go this far…? He lets out a good-natured laugh at your antics, a warm smile gracing his lips. He’s not upset - he can’t be, not when he’s glad that you’re able to laugh like this without hindrance. “It’s always something with you, isn’t it?” He chuckles, drawing closer and leaving a light peck on your forehead, sweeping away your hair with a soft touch. “Hm, but this is rather unfair, isn’t it?”
His eyes adopt a sense of contentment as he watches your expression grow perplexed. “Huh?”
“To play such a cruel trick on me, without second regard… no matter.”
“You’ll just have to make it up to me, dearest.” ♡
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“Huh? What’s up with you today??”
The moment you avoid his all-knowing gaze, HEIZOU’s already thinking up of every possibility. Someone annoying at work? He had heard you complaining about obnoxious commissioners far longer than he cared to remember. Or maybe someone had taken one of your bounties, and now you were at a loss of mora? Or perhaps the person in question was someone different entirely… himself.
“Nothing.” Your reply is short as you merely give him a quick glance as you step through the door. It’s apparent that you’re trying to weasel out of his sight as soon as possible, with the way you’re frantically undoing your shoes without so much of another word.
But he certainly hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? No, of course not. How could you possibly find an annoyance in his ever-charming smile? Ah, but then again, it’s not unreasonable for the person at fault to be none other than himself, but with the way your eyes hold just the slightest shred of mischief… oh. Oh. Ahaha, you’re proving to be rather amusing, aren’t you? To think you’d dare pull such a slight on someone like him… a half-done case like this is easy to unravel. But no matter, he’ll play along, just for his own entertainment.
“Awww, love, did I do something wrong?” He blinks his sparkling green eyes up at you, fluttering his lashes. Glittering tears pool at the edges of his eyes. “C’mon, you can tell me what happened…!”
You blink, utterly dumbstruck. “Heizou, what the fuck.”
“D-Don’t avoid me, alright?!” He whines, clinging to your shirt desperately. “I-I don’t want to be alone…!!” His large doe eyes, growing even larger under your gaze, are glossy with tears.
In all honesty, you should’ve expected this. But perhaps a small part of you wanted to believe that Heizou wouldn’t just figure all of it out off the bat… he knows you far too well to nod along with concern.
“Wh-Why aren’t you talking? Do you hate me??” Heizou’s blubbering, close to breaking into tears. Fuck, he was an even better actor than you were, how was this level of satire even possible?? What kind of detective cases is he having to go through if he needs these kinds of skills… you sigh.
“Damn Heizou, you could’ve at least pretended to fall for it.” You huff, sitting down on the couch before shifting to the side to make space for the male. “You’ve gone and ruined my nightly entertainment.”
He blinks at you, then laughs, quickly changing out of his facade. It’s startling, how he’s able to switch characters so easily, almost like he’s taking off one mask and simply putting on another. “I would’ve been a fool to fall for that shoddy performance.”
“A fool? Don’t flatter yourself.” You let out a joking exasperated sigh, leaning into his shoulder with a pout.
“But perhaps I am one?” He hums thoughtfully, ruffling his hands through your hair. “After all, you certainly are, and I am your lover, so… what is it they say? Like meets like?”
You puff out your cheeks, face growing red. “Heizou, I’m not a fool!”
He chuckles, eyes twinkling as he grins. “I know. However, I fear the same could not be said about me…” He shrugs his shoulders, sighing dramatically, yet you can hear the impending mischief in his tone.
“Or… perhaps I’m a fool for you? ♡
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“Hey, did you just ignore me??”
All you did was brush past him at the doorway, yet WANDERER is already bristling, eyebrows drawn up in a scowl as his gaze burns into your back. “Oh great, so now you aren’t even going to respond to me, are you?? Fun. So funny. I hope you feel proud of yourself, dimwit.” His rage only continues when you remain silent. “What, did I do something wrong? The fuck, answer me!”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” You manage to add a note of sarcasm into your voice, inwardly cheering yourself on at your sheer acting talent. “I’m just tired today. Don’t talk to me.”
His indigo eyes widen at your words. “Hah? Wh-What do I have to do with that? That doesn’t give you the right to-!” He catches himself before he falls into a fit, knowing surely that in the heat of the moment, something would likely be broken and thrown out the window, which had just been fixed last Thursday. He lets out a sigh, one of exasperation. “Why must you be so idiotic?”
He supposed he was the idiotic one to expect a response.
“Alright, I see how it is. We’re going to play this game. Very well.” He confidently strides up next to you and pulls up a chair, watching your pencil draw words about who knows what. Wanderer is someone stubborn, that much is apparent, and he’s not one to back down. And you’ve just presented him with an opportunity to flare that tenacity of his. Of course, he wouldn’t be lying if he hadn’t said that he wasn’t at least the slightest bit concerned about what had happened to you, how could he not? 
Ah, but at the same time, he had threatened everyone in your classes and workplace not to lay a single finger on you, so who would have possibly dared to defy his command? If that was the case… you instinctively flinch, glancing at the male in your peripheral vision, whose eyes have grown cold as the air trembles at his sudden release of bloodlust.
He’s definitely misinterpreting this, isn’t he? You grumble, catching his attention for a brief moment. “Nevermind, I don’t think I can pull this off…”
The blank expression on his face is almost worth the scolding you’ll get after his realization. “...What?”
“You’ve been… pranked?” You give him a sheepish smile. “I thought it would be funny to ignore you for a day, so-”
“You what?” Shit, his bloodlust hasn’t disappeared, just switched recipients. You let out a shaky laugh as he glowers at you, clearly enraged. Ah, you’ve certainly dug yourself into quite a deep hole, haven’t you? But it shouldn’t prove to be a problem…
“Don’t be so mad at me, alright? I just wanted to poke some fun!” You press your lips into his cheek before he can get a word in, smiling against his smooth skin. “Mwah! There, my apology!”
His silence is a terrifying thing, but soon enough his lips move to form words, mumbled out and hard to hear as his cheeks ever so subtly grow red. “...t…en…”
“Huh? Sorry, I couldn’t-”
“Not enough. Kiss me again, and just maybe I’ll forgive you.” ♡
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(a/n) wouldn't it be so silly if i posted at least every monday so my blog name would actually make sense. so silly. so unbelievably improbably inconceivably impossibly unthinkably unimaginably silly !!!!
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123
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It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over. (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) Part 2
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Wake up babe, new cowboy Miguel fic just dropped! This part was heavily inspired by the notebook. Period pieces are not my strong suit so apologizes if it’s not good. Not proofread, enjoy!
(Y/N)-Your name.
Cursing, mentions/usage of alcohol, attempted robbery/theft, mentions of guns, Miguel jokes about manhandling you but nothing actually happens, mentions of sexual acts, but nothing happens.
Word Count: 2.3k
Part 1
Masterlist
Five years.
Five years since you had last seen the cowboy who had stolen your heart.
You had graduated college and moved out of your parents home, moving a few towns over, nowhere near a big city like you lived in during your youth in the East but a lot larger than the one you had lived during the whole Miguel incident. You lived in a nice home, gotten a job as a teacher for the younger kids in town and… you were recently engaged.
Your fiancé was a nice man, sweet, understanding, kind, easy on the eyes, you liked him a lot, the only problem is, you didn’t love him. You should feel bad about getting married to a wealthy man who you didn’t even see as more than of a friend, but at the same time, your mother thought it would be best to marry you off to her friend’s son that just so happened to be inheriting his father’s liquor business when he settled down. It was a marriage of convenience if anything, at least he was polite with you despite neither you or him having any romantic feelings, if anything it made the whole thing a bit easier for you. Growing content with the fact that this would turn into your future children’s definition of love.
Five years to grow from a silly lovestruck teenager into a young woman with responsibilities and a bright future ahead of her, and you still thought about him. You can't help but frantically Miguel’s name under the obituary section of the town’s paper, unknowingly breathing a sigh of relief when his name wouldn’t appear. Although it was foolish, and despite no longer living in the same small town as your parents, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter at the fact he hasn’t found you yet. Was he even attempting to look for you? With a reputation like his, you’re certain you weren’t the first girl he’s charmed to get under his sheets… or in your case, jail cell. So, eventually, you stopped hoping, if he hadn’t found you during the last five years, he surely wasn’t looking. Why should you?
“Darling.” Your fiancé, Austin, called out for you before rounding the corner that connected the living room into the kitchen. You hummed in response as you kept your eyes on the stack of papers you were currently grading for your students, a pen in your dominant hand as your free one tapped a mindless tone to help keep you concentrated. “Put the papers down and take a break will you? You’ve got all week to grade those tests.” You let out a huff and a whine as you put the pen down, he was right. Your eyes keep unfocusing and your wrist was being to grow sore, making your fiancé tsk. “I don’t understand why you don’t just quit, I make enough to support us both.”
“I should,shouldn't I…” You contimplacted with a weary chuckle, and although your tone was joking, you were seriously considering it. You adored your students with all your heart, you really did. But the school was putting so much pressure on you because they refused to hire another teacher to help lessen your workload. So you and two other teachers were juggling a handful of 300 seven year olds, it was a lot… to say the least. You picked yourself up from your seat to stretch your body out, before turning to Austin. “Now was that all you came to tell me?” You asked in a playful tone.
“No, actually… I came to ask for a favor.” He admitted, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Ya know I’ve got that… liquor convention event out of town this weekend, right?” You nodded in confirmation, “well, I was wondering if you could do me the favor of just checking in on my office while I’m gone. I’ve heard a lot about break ins and whatnot during these times, just drop by for a few minutes for the 4 days that I’ll be gone.”
You tapped the nonsensical rhythm again as you thought about it, it wasn’t too much of an ask, you’d just drop by for a few minutes a day, you shrugged. “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Saturday afternoon, your first day off and your third alone. Grateful for the ability to sleep in and being about to eat a well rounded breakfast. After doing your usual morning routine, and having changed into one of your simpler dresses to go out and run some errands for the day.
Gone out to get groceries, send out a letter to your parents, went to the tailors to drop off some Austin’s shirts to be hemmed since you didn’t feel like sitting down all to do it yourself, even finished grading the last of the test all before noon ended. After tidying up your work from its usual spot from the kitchen table, you made yourself a quick lunch and went to read a few chapters of your book on the couch. Only to end up falling asleep, and once you woke up, you glanced at the clock-shit.
“It’s half past five?! I was supposed to go to his office an hour ago!” You yelled to no one but yourself as you quickly got up from your spot on the couch, fixing your hair quickly as you threw on your coat, and made your way back out the door.
“I told ya boys this heist would be easy… if we leave by dusk we could hit up that train that passes by el dorado tomorrow evening…” Miguel chuckled as he tossed his now full bag of valuables to his brother, who then passed it over Peter would load it to one of their horses that they had waiting for them around the back of the building.
After that night he had escaped, it took him about a month to find his partners in crime, following their trail through stolen newspapers from random porches and the knowledge of how their usual trail was, luckily they had kept his horse safe and well taken care of too.
“One more bag then we’re as good as gone.” Miguel said with a smirk, making Gabriel Let out a laugh and a clap. Right when Miguel was going to prep the last bag, the faint noise of rushing made all three men stop in their tracks. Before he sent his younger brother a glare and he hissed in a low tone through his teeth. “Pinche cabrón- I thought you said this place would be empty all weekend.” (Fucking dumbass)
“I thought it would!” He whispered-shouted back, before they heard the door creak open.
“Fuck-okay… um, go check if it’s the sheriff.” He quietly ordered Gabriel, before turning to Peter, “Get the horses ready incase we needa’ book It.” With a nob both males did as told, as Miguel quickly went to pack the last bag.
When his younger brother entered the front room, he swore he heard him mutter the words “hello pretty lady” before the muffle sound of rustling and some high-pitched yelping, but never was a shot fired, so clearly it couldn’t have been someone to play an immediate threat. Just as he was finishing tying up the bag, Gabriel came back into the room, but not alone.
“Look at what I found, it must be his little wife.” He said almost mockingly as he hazardly pulled you into the room and pushed you into the room in front of Miguel’s feet, but with your face being tilted down as you caught yourself from falling face first onto the wooden floor.
“Careful!” You yelled as you try to collect yourself, once you get yourself to look up at the bandit you were dropped in front of, your scowl immediately turned into once of disbelief, and it seems his expression matched yours.
You both seem to have froze up in time as you both did nothing but stare at each other, Gabriel just crossed his arms and raised a brow, Peter came jogging in to inform his friends the horses are ready when he saw the odd scene, opting to keep his mouth shut.
Finally, you came back to life as you blinked, as if expecting his to disappear right before your very eyes again, and when he didn’t, you finally whispered a faint. “…Miguel?”
“…(Y/N)…” You nodded your head, despite it not being a question, and he cleared his throat, not breaking eye contact with you as he spoke his next orders to Peter and Gabriel. “Unload all that shit and put it back.”
He had told Gabriel and Peter to go on to do the train heist without him, and that he'd meet up with them afterwards. Saying he had “unattended business to take care of”. So now here he was, in your kitchen, only being lightened up by a few candles as darkness overtook the sky. Both of you sharing drunken giggles over dinner. Miguel’s black cowboy hat that was certainly too big for you sitting on top of your head as you sip on your beer.
“That hat looks adorable on you.” Miguel chuckled, making you shake your head with a giggle, your free hand going to rest on top of the hat to help keep it stabilized.
“It’s so big!” You countered as you take the hat off and went to hand it back to Miguel, who grabs it and sets it back on his head.
“You know you shouldn’t be wearing just anyone’s hat. Ya know what they say about wearing a man’s cowboy hat.” He joked as he put down his now empty bottle, chuckling when he saw your face contour in confusion.
“What do they say?” You asked curiously, making Miguel’s smirk widen.
“Wear the hat…” he tapped the brim on the hat for emphasis, “Ride the cowboy.” He finished, making you gasp dramatically.
“Miguel! That’s inappropriate!” You pretended to be offended, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile near the end of you reprimanding him.
“Oh please, you act like you haven’t before, why not again? Unless you want me to come over then and manhandle you.” He was only joking of course, he may have been a thief and a murderer but he’d never hurt a woman, especially not you. You let out a faux gasp, playing along as your right hand goes to your chest for emphasis.
“You wouldn’t dare. I’m a married woman.” You said in a softer tone, going to sip your bottle to finish it off. You haven’t really told him you were going to be getting married soon, even though he knew you were in a relationship, he didn’t quite know how serious it was.
“Not yet.” He replied almost immediately, shaking his head as his playful tone dropped to a more serious yet still gentle tone. The soft smile stays on his lips but it didn’t meet his eyes anymore when you raised your hand to show off the silver band that decorates your ring finger, the diamond shining even only in the candlelight. It took you a moment too long to realize this.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, the start of a giggle comes out with your words but they quickly die down in your throat as the once playful atmosphere starts to turn more serious.Miguel just shakes his head as a hand goes to rub at his chin.
“Nothing nothing… just didn’t think you’d ever get married… thought what we had was something real.” He admitted, eyes casted downwards as he goes to fidget with a bent half beer bottle cap. You let out a scoff, offended by his words.
“Don’t try and think I just forgot about you the moment my father dragged me out of that door,” your brows furrowed and your arms crossed on the wooden table as you started to chastise him, “I was stuck on you for five years Miguel. Five. Years.” You emphasized the two words with taps on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, Austin is a great guy, but it was my parents' idea for me to marry him. They thought it was a good way to get me to stop thinking about you-“ You shouldn’t be admitting that outloud but the buzz made your mind hazy.
“Do you love him?” He interrupted you, eyes burning into yours, those same intense eyes you had dreamed about as you slept, you had to look away.
“It’s not that simple Miguel-“
“But it is.” He insisted, standing up from his seat, the chair screeching as it tried not to topple over. “You either love him or you don’t.”
“I’m not doing this with you Miguel.” You shook your head as you stood as well, going to clean up the mess you two had made, trying to erase any evidence you two were there.
“Too bad, I’m not just gonna drop this and let you disappear from my life, I’m not losing you again.” He declared, you weren’t going to justify his admission with a response, but as you go to pick up a few empty bottles, they slip from your hands, cracking into hundreds of small shreds as Miguel’s hands turn you around to face him. A shocked gasp begins to leave your lips before it is quickly swallowed up by his. You know you should push him off, but you couldn’t help but melt underneath his touch.
Miguel O’Hara was a criminal, a thief of many things and no matter how much you try to stop him, he’ll always find a way to steal your heart all over again.
Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @xevita @marshhbs @inlovewithpandora @vera4luv @mcmiracles @eddieslooneymoonie @to-the-endoftheline
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strawberrystepmom · 2 months
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gojo x f!reader. gojo and reader are in an semi-established relationship although he is referred to as boyfriend in this. cw: food, tantanmen is a spicy ramen soup. hurt/comfort if you squint, bad day lamentations, and one of my personal favorite gojo facts: man hates spicy food. i also hc him as a picky eater so here we go.
wc 1.5k | divider by cafekitsune
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“I want tantanmen.”
Satoru’s bottom lip begins sticking out as soon as he hears the first letter of his most dreaded of your post-stressful day cravings leave your mouth.  
The bane of his existence - spicy food. It overwhelms his senses, a fact you’re well aware of, making it a rarity that you would even ask. That’s how he knows today has been capital-R rough for you and although he wants to help make your difficult day better, there’s hesitation in his step and he stops you on the train platform to put his hands on your shoulders. His grip is just firm enough to bring you comfort and you glance up at him looking so dejected he almost thinks better of his next question. Consideration - something he is not always the best at doing - be damned, he cannot stop himself before the words slip out.  
“Are you sure you don’t want something else instead?”
Hurt flashes across your face and you don’t bother to hide it. Every single one of your boyfriend’s whims is surrendered to no matter how ridiculous it is, trips and meals and sex positions and a million other tiny things you do to make him happy despite his insistence he doesn’t need them. Sure, it’s unfair for you to expect the same in return given you do it with no expectation of reciprocation but for once it would be nice to not have your choices questioned.
“You told me I could get anything I wanted and it was your treat. Are you changing your mind?”  
You raise a brow, slacken your jaw, and harden your gaze that is pointed upward in his direction. 
“I’ve had a rough day, Satoru. All I need is something so spicy it makes me cry.”
The tears threatening to fall from your lash line aren’t fake or for “getting your own way” purposes, you genuinely feel like you’re on the brink of tears and have all day. A scolding from Yaga, a disagreement regarding curriculum with Utahime via intense text message exchange, blatant disrespect from your students that they have yet to apologize - every bad moment piled up into something heavy to carry that weighs down on your chest. Thankfully, Satoru knows you well enough to be able to tell that you are being honest about the way you feel and arguing is futile.
“Fine,” he agrees with a loud exhale. “But on the way home we’re going to stop and get something edible to people who aren’t crazy, okay?”
Reaching for his hand, you nod and snuggle into his arm. Lacing your fingers between his, the stress visibly melts from you and a minuscule part of him feels bad for putting up an argument to your wishes at all. Is this really how he’s going to act when you are so undeniably sweet to him when you want to be? How many of his whims do you give into without having to think about it at all? Sighing, he leans toward you and kisses the top of your head, crowding you closer against his body. 
“You’re not going to make me try it this time?”
“No. I only did that once and besides, their menu is big. You are bound to find something you like if you just look.”
Giggling, you cling to his side and shrug playfully. The distinct shine of tears in your eyes has dissipated and your smile seems warmer than earlier, making him feel slightly less guilty for his blunder. 
Guilt isn’t something that he really dwells on often, as impermanent as the rest of his emotions tend to be, but it’s different when it’s you. Keeping you happy is just about the only thing he hasn’t been perfect at on the first attempt yet he keeps trying and figuring it out a little more every day. He figures you out a little more every day, honestly. It’s what keeps him coming back.
“But I like eating the same thing as you.” Satoru pouts again and you roll your eyes, squeezing your arm that is wrapped around his bicep. “I know but sometimes it doesn’t hurt either of us to try something new or different from the other.”
He hums his disbelief and the two of you walk alongside one another toward the gate.
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Ordering your spicy soup with a smile at the front counter while your boyfriend situates the table the two of you will be sitting at, you check over your shoulder once before leaning in the direction of the young woman taking your order.
“I have a really weird request.”
She nods politely and you take a deep breath, knowing how rude it is to ask for changes to menu items when there are so many. Despite the impoliteness, you feel obligated to give him a little break while taking into consideration the one he has given you tonight.
“So the tantanmen…is there any way I could get just the broth and noodles without anything else?” The young woman blinks at you unenthusiastically and you straighten your shoulders, putting on your most winning smile. “How about a child’s serving with less spice? Is that something you could do?”
Wordlessly, she glances over your shoulder at the table your over six and a half feet tall man sits at in search of a child that could possibly need this kind of accommodation for their food. She spots none, only your boyfriend who is grinning down at his phone and laughing to himself.
“It’s for him. He doesn’t do spice very well, I know that’s ridiculous but we always order the same thing and I understand if you can’t do it. I just had to ask.”
She hums and presses the buttons on the screen in front of her, turning it to show you. One order of soup, extra spicy for you. One order of soup, just broth and no spice for Gojo. Gratefully, you bow your head and she plays it off with a smile. Even she can’t be terribly annoyed at a couple that clearly has figured out one another’s whims and she instructs you to go and sit at your table to await your order.
Sliding in next to him on the same side of the booth, as always, you grin and he puts his phone down immediately to wrap his arm around your shoulder. 
“What’d you order me?”
You shrug playfully and he gasps.
“You know I’ll simply go on hunger strike if you got me something spicy…” he trails off and you laugh, reaching up to tug on his earlobe the way you always do when he’s running his mouth. “You’ll just have to see what surprise I have in store.”
The two of you chit chat for a few minutes but the soup comes more quickly than you expected. Satoru’s face lights up when his eyes glance down at a bowl full of silky broth, pulling apart his chopsticks delightedly. It’s the same thing you have, just a little different and exactly how he likes it.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have!”
Laughing, you shake your head and follow his lead, glancing down into your own steaming bowl of relief. Opening your chopsticks, breaking them apart, giving thanks for the meal, they’re all as natural as breathing at this point and you smile at him again as he glances down into your bowl.
The broth of your soup is as red as anything he has ever seen.
“That looks like the fire of Hell,” he scoffs, scooping broth into his mouth and swallowing quickly. 
You take a sip from your spoon and sigh in relief, shoulders relaxing into a natural position instead of curved forward sadly. Despite his earlier protests, there’s nothing he’d rather do than sit here and watch you eat your troubles away, pinkies of both of your free hands touching below the table. 
“It just might be.”
The spice makes you sniffle and he’s quick to pick up a napkin, dabbing at the tip of your nose to make sure no dribbles have occurred. This is another habit he has picked up after all this time watching you challenge yourself to meals he wouldn’t touch if he had to. Wiping your nose and cheeks and making sure you drink water.
“Thank you for treating me.”
Leaning over your bowl, you slurp a mouthful of noodles and chew it thoughtfully. He watches your mouth and jaw move, reaching up to cup your face but stopping himself from kissing you with your mouth full. It wouldn’t be the first time but that damned spicy broth is all over your lips and he won’t take the risk as badly as he wants to.
“Thanks for letting me, you freak of nature.”
Giggling, you shrug and lean into his touch.
“It takes one to know one.”
No argument from him.
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justwannabecat · 1 year
Text
To Danny, Jason feels like a ghost, but he has no core.
AKA, something straight out of his nightmares.
So, when they meet for the first time (whether it’s just passing each other in the street, visiting the same library or having one save the other) Danny immediately cries out in Ghost.
Mourning, Apologies, Too Late, Helplessness, Grief.
It’s wordless, yet understood perfectly. And after Danny does that, he takes in the fact that Jason is still here. He hasn’t faded. So he bursts into other noises- Chirps and whistles and warbles, all tinged with static at the edges.
Sick? Hurt? Relax, Safe, Not Alone, Will Help.
Finally, he drags Jason through the nearest portal to the Ghost Zone, on his way to go find Frostbite.
This whole time, Jason is practically frozen. This kid he just met knew he died, was heartbroken over it even though they never knew each other, but now was promising to help him, to not leave him behind?
(The pit was quiet. It had been working so hard to create a Core, after all, but it wasn’t like ambient ectoplasm. It was all it could do to keep its host going. But now? Now it could breathe, and it could finally do its job.)
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rinhaler · 7 months
Note
luxe, hear this anon out. rin with a crybaby type of reader who cries when they feel too good. just imagine him unlocking the fact realizing that he gets turned on by their crying when they're sputtering and choking on his cock <33
apologies if im a bit deranged about this
- jellyfish anon
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okay I cannot express how sexy this request is. I NEED him in a way that undoes centuries worth of feminism I fear :( also apologies I'm not that best at writing BJs but I hope u like! (slightly inspired by scream vi)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, praise, slut used once, alcohol mention, reader has long hair/hair long enough to do a makeshift ponytail ♡
words: 1.9k
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“You shou— talk to ‘im—” your friend slurs, giggling as you help her sit down on your couch. You laugh a little as she falls from your grip and spreads out comfortably on the sofa beneath her. “Look, he’s looking!” she yells a little too loudly and points.
You shush her, carefully moving her hand to her lap before looking to where she had been pointing. Your neighbour had been looking from his window into yours for a little bit, smirking a little when he finally notices you looking back. He’s doing dishes in the sink, and it gives you the idea to get your friend some water.
“He’s been giving you fuck me eyes f-for weeks! Every time I come over he’s always—”
“Maybe you shouldn’t point and make it so obvious, babe.” you laugh, handing a glass full of water to her. “He’s just being friendly. Besides, I’m not really ready to date or anything yet. I’m just having fun hanging out with my bestie.” you tease her, nudging her with your elbow.
She pouts, eyes filling with water before she hugs you. She’s always been an emotional drunk, and soon enough she’s confessing how much she adores you and what a perfect best friend you are.
“Do you have any snacks? Wan’ some chocolate.” she tells you. You shake your head. “Ugh. Ooooh! You should go ask hot guy if he has any!” she suggests, kicking her feet and giggling all the while.
You look elsewhere. In the direction of hot guy. But he’s not at the window anymore. He’s probably in bed, it is pretty late. You hadn’t expected to be getting home after midnight from your cousins wedding given that you aren’t really that close. But bringing your best friend as a plus one extended the time you spent there.
There was an open bar.
“I’ll go to the store. What kind of chocolate do you want?” you ask.
“Surprise me.” she smiles. “Thaaaaank youuuuuu~!” she speaks in a sing-song voice.
“Don’t burn my apartment down while I’m gone.” you warn her, pretending to scowl at her before you laugh at yourself. She nods, eyes fluttering closed as her body sinks further and further into the couch.
You grab your keys and head out of the front door. If you were smart, you would have ordered dessert. There’s no way you should be leaving the safety of your apartment so late and stepping out into the city. But it’s just around the corner, that’s what you’re telling yourself. Nothing bad can happen to you if you just hurry.
As you reach the bottom floor, you recognise the man standing by the mailboxes near the entrance to your apartment building. He hasn’t noticed you, though, and why would he? He’s occupied sifting through the letters in his hands. You take a shallow breath, mentally preparing yourself for the dangers of going outside.
He raises his head as he smells your perfume when you walk by.
You gasp, feeling his hand dig into the flesh of your upper arm before he pulls you closer to him. It’s hard to even figure out what your thoughts are as you feel your back connect with rows of metal mailboxes. And before you can greet him, his lips are on yours.
You smile into the kiss, a hand cups your face as he presses his body a little harder into yours. He smiles back when he hears a soft little moan escape you at the feeling of being trapped against him. A sound from a higher floor frightens you, you turn your head and move away from him.
“Sorry, I thought my friend might be—”
“Hey,” he grabs your wrist and makes you face him. “You’re too ashamed being seen with me?” he smiles a little, teasing you. You smile back, shaking your head in protest.
“No it’s not that!” you tell him. “I better get going, though. She’s drunk and wants some chocolate.”
“You’re not going out on your own.” he speaks. It’s commanding, his voice filled with care and concern and it makes you weak at the knees. “Do you know that you can order snacks?”
“Uh, no, I've never heard of that.” you roll your eyes and speak sarcastically, earning a laugh from him.
“Maybe you should come upstairs with me, and I’ll show you how to do it.” he tells you, approaching you again. Your voice gets trapped in your throat as he looks down at you, and you find yourself nodding before even thinking about your answer. He smiles, though, kissing you deeply at your response. A sweet sort of praise for delivering an answer he’s happy to hear.
He takes your hand, guiding you up to his apartment.
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“Done.” he smiles, putting his phone down on the counter. “I ordered pizza and your friend’s chocolate.”
“Perfect, thank you, Rin.” you thank him, “It’ll probably be a while… what shall we do in the meantime?”
“You know…” he starts, closing the gap between you. “I’ve really missed you all day.”
“Yeah? Ah—!” your voice gets caught in your throat as you feel him pick you up with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he carries you. You’ve missed him, too. You’ve never put a label on whatever this is. But as far as you’re concerned, it’s just fun. It’s easy. And it’s good.
He is good.
He sits on the couch with you straddling him. A little groan leaves his lips as yours stray to kiss down the column of his neck. His hips roll up, the outline of his cock rubs into your wanting core. His eyes are glued to you as your kisses descend his body, and he curses himself for not throwing away his sweater before picking you up.
It doesn’t matter though, not when you’re resting between his knees with your hands pawing at his cock. Your eyes are full, wanton whimpers filling every breath you take as you do all you can to quickly undo his belt.
“Can I give you head, baby?” you ask, helping remove his cock from the confines of his jeans. He nods, eagerly, his fingers stroking your scalp through your hair as encouragement.
You’re salivating when his dick is revealed in all of its perfect glory. Flushed pink and pretty and throbbing with lust. An unyielding desire to feel your mouth around it. You lick at the oozing pearlescent pre gathering at his slit. The moan he emits at the feeling rushes straight to your cunt. Your hand flies under your dress and beneath your sopping panties, Rin’s cheeks fill with a pink tint at the sight. He hadn’t expected you to touch yourself, his ego climbs heights he hadn’t thought possible at your overzealous act.
“Baby, please… please suck my cock.” he begs. You nod, mewling as you sink your mouth entirely onto him. “F-uck. Good girl, such a good girl.” he groans. You feel his hand cup your face, angling your vision so that your watery eyes are focused on him. He sees the pleasure building in you as you stare back at him.
Your little fingers aren’t enough to satiate the burning need pulsating at your core. But seeing Rin’s facial expressions are more than enough to keep you motivated. You want to make him proud. You want to make him cum. You take his cock entirely down your throat, and pride fills your body when he throws his head back.
He looks down at you, and he bites at his lower lip as you suck and choke around his length, tears spilling over your lash line as you take him more and more.
“Fuck, baby, you like this?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. He thrusts his hips and fucks into your face until you’re choking on him. His hand grips into your hair and forms a makeshift ponytail as he continues to pound into your mouth like you’re his own personal fuck toy. He pulls you away reluctantly, giving you a chance to breathe. Though that isn’t why he did it. He wants to hear how good you feel. He wants to study the tears welling at your eyes. “You’re such a cute slut for me… cryin’ for my cock? Fucking adorable.” he grins.
You sob, unable to stop yourself. You rest your hands on his thighs as you sniffle, allowing him the time to really enjoy how pathetic and desperate you are.
“Love making you feel good…” you speak, shyly. “I—”
You don’t get the chance to speak anymore when he forces you back down on his cock. His eyes are heavy and filled with lust as he carries on rutting his hips into your face. You can’t stop yourself from twirling your fingers through his dark pubes. It’s the only thing keeping you grounded in reality as the feeling of his cock entirely takes over every synapse in your brain.
It’s unrelenting. He can’t stop himself as the tears continue to fall. Fat tears rolling without end down your hollowed cheeks. He batters his length into your drooling mouth, a mixture of spit and pre rolling down your chin and coating his balls as he repeatedly slams himself in and out. His thick length clogs your airways with each thrust. He can’t believe the pretty, lewd noises leaving you as you do your best to take him. The sputtering doesn’t cease, and knowing he’s so big that you can’t help but gag is making him mad with lust.
He holds your head with both of his large hands, keeping you in place as he fucks his length down your throat.
“Fuck, fuck, baby. Take it, ‘m cumming.” he warns you, a loud grunt following as ropes of tangy white cream spurt down your throat before you can barely get a taste. You show him your empty mouth, and he kisses your forehead in response. You hear your phone buzz, your head turning to acknowledge the sound. But he pulls you back, lifting you onto his lap before standing up with you in his hold. “I got carried away.” he kisses your lips.
“No it’s okay, I had fun.” you smile, kissing him back.
“You make me fucking crazy. Crying like that, over my cock? You’re so sweet.” he tells you, kissing you again. “Have you always been such a cry baby? I like it, a lot.” he whispers before kissing lovingly along your neck. You roll your eyes, kissing him and giggling against his lips. Before you can answer you hear your phone buzz again,
“Sorry, I should check that.” you tell him. He sets you down and tucks his cock back into his underwear and jeans. You smile when you feel him hug you from behind, kissing him before checking your texts.
Bestie 💖: are u still at the shop? hot boy has a gf :( i can see him getting a blowy through the window Bestie 💖: ugh they look so cute i hate her, i rly thought he liked you!!
Your blood runs cold as you feel the vibration of another text coming through. Rin smiles, tucking his head into your neck to offer a calming kiss while you read your texts together.
Bestie 💖: OH MY GOD YOU BITCH! IT’S YOU! YOU FUCKING BITCH!
You reluctantly look up, and Rin does the same. You see your best friend standing by the window with a shocked expression on her face. She holds her phone up and takes quick picture as you and Rin wave at her through the window. You look down to see a notification from her, the picture is now available for your whole Snapchat group chat to see.
“I gotta remember to close my blinds at night.” he laughs.
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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miguel-ohara-wifey · 9 months
Note
okay hear me out… headcanons for spiderverse men that’s like how they act when their s/o is pregnant
I know I said I’d focus on my cowboy!Miguel fic but I’ve been waiting for this request! Ask and ye shall receive
Spiderverse men when there s/o is pregnant headcanons
Tag list: @alliwriteistrash I figured you’d like this
Rating: 18+, hurt/comfort, fluff, Angst
Peter B Parker
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-Peter and you have tried at a baby for ages, but stopped before hand because some new threat emerged for Spider-Man, career opportunities you had to make priority, or some financial problems came up. Overall it hasn’t been ideal timing whenever you two wanted to try.
-Your body had other plans however, after a few days in a row of getting sick in the morning. Food tasting weird and having a sickly feeling in your stomach. You had to take a pregnancy test just to ease your anxiety. Unfortunately it didn’t, it was positive. Your body immediately starts to shake, you throw up for an entirely different reason.
-the twitching under your skin from fear stopped when you threw up. But your mind was still fraught with catastrophizing thoughts. What if you need an abortion, what if Peter doesn’t want the kid anymore, how would you play this when he gets home? Is Spider-Man even meant to have a child?
-You knew you couldn’t hide it from him in good conscience, when Peter arrives at your home with the groceries like he promised. Joking about the latest villain of the week he took down. You can’t help but start sobbing right when you spot his brown eyes. Not even knowing why, when he huddled you gently. Wiping your tears away asking what’s wrong. You relent how you took a pregnancy test and it’s positive.
-Before your knee jerk apology can be made he embraces you, conscious of your stomach in the tightening of his body around yours. He whispers how great that is, all your fears laid dead before you. But you still kept crying, expect out of pure joy. Peter meet you eye too eye, clearly joining in on the sob parade.
“You’re gonna make a daddy honey…I can’t wait.”
Miguel O’Hara
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-You knew it wouldn’t be pretty when you told Miguel you were pregnant. Especially because you were going to have the baby. Miguel was furious, you two have been casual for a long time. You knew of Miguel’s past with Gabriella, not like he makes an effort to hid it. For fucks sake initiates get the holographic slide show of his trauma.
-Miguel isn’t characteristically raving and violent in this rage, not like you’ve ever felt unsafe around him. However you’ve seen enough of his anger to know it burns hot. But this was the cutting chill of dry ice, he plainly told you he’s not going to be the kids father. If you want the kid, you’re on your own. You sob and scream at him how he’s an asshole.
-He doesn’t exactly argue against that point, in fact he doesn’t argue at all. Just nods and leaves as you sob in defeat. You knew this would happen, he’d break your heart in the end. Yet the smallest speck from the deepest crevice of your mind believed otherwise. Cause you want him close. Miguel would always assure complete low commitment and non-existent emotional entanglement when you two started dating. Work is his true love and he wouldn’t dare let you compete.
-The day after, you slept in till the afternoon. Not even wanting to make yourself breakfast even if it meant silencing the gargling of your stomach. You hear a knock at the door. You figure it’s a package that got sent to you by accident. So no matter how terrible you feel you get out of bed. Opening the door, you see Miguel with your favorite breakfast meal from Panera.
-You angrily squint at him asking if he thinks this’ll make up for ditching you. He says it doesn’t, his eyes reddened from crying. He just says he knows you probably haven’t had any food yet today because of your argument. But he is sorry, he’s going to be there for you and the baby. He was a fucking asshole, your entire relationship. He loves you and never wanted to admit it. For what it’s worth he’s here for whenever or however long you’d have him.
“It’s okay if you’re still mad at me…but I know you’re craving this so just have some food.”
Hobie Brown
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-This was a shock to both of you, you’ve always been safe despite all the kinkiness you get into. You’ve always had protection upon protection on top of taking regular std tests.
-Despite this shockwave through Hobie and your lives, the moment you tell him you want to keep it. He’s on board, he gets a head start on baby proofing the apartment. Engineering makeshift baby monitors and safe toys for the baby to play with. He starts reading parenting books and setting up the baby’s room in his off time. Making the room a vibrant red, doesn’t matter if the baby’s a boy or a girl. You’re gonna raise them to be a punk.
-Also watches after you carefully. Even when it means leaving his station as Spider-Man for a day. You and the precious future you’re carrying matters even more to him. He’ll be sure to get everything you crave. Even if he has to teach himself how to make sponge cake. If that’s what his baby mama wants it’s what his baby mama gets. He didn’t exactly get it, but you appreciated the sentiment regardless.
-Unfortunately now truly the worst of your pregnancy signs present themselves. You throw up almost every other morning, your favorite foods now don’t taste like anything cause your tastebuds have turned against you. And you’re fatigued easily so you have to take a few weeks off helping the movement. On top of the fact you always feel heavier and heavier as every day goes by.
-When your mood swings are at there highest to boot, you find an excuse to yell at him at any point. So he knows it’s best to leave the house for a couple of hours for you to cool off. Not to dismiss your feelings, but knowing his presence only exasperates your rage spike. So when he comes back with store bought sponge cake for you. You sob and apologize for getting mad at him. He takes it in stride, he knows this road will be bumpy as everything else is. But you’re in it together.
“It’s alright love, and don’t worry I won’t torture you with my sponge cake I bought you some…”
Spider-Man Noir
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-Once you ask your darling to open the oven to take out what you were making. He saw a single bun on the rack, right after asking why there’s a bun in the oven. A second later he puts two and two together. He rushes over to you, via sliding on his knees against the wooden kitchen floors to your stomach.
-He sends pecks all over your gut while massaging it with his head. Almost already trying to hear your baby, his baby. Whispering as if your future child can hear you through its very tiny molecules. You giggle at this man’s infatuation with your stomach. Sure he’s always loved every part of you. But now he has two angels in his life.
-He unleashes all the parenting books he stocked up for just in case he’d ever be a dad. As well as makes you promise to quit work in a week to focus on yourself. He begins doing most of the chores you did around the house. Doting on you head to toe, not that you’re going to stop him. Especially when your mood swings begin to hit. You become extra clingy and needy.
-But his heart breaks when you say you’re sorry for not being as pretty anymore now that you’re starting to show. He’s devastated, he thinks you’re even more gorgeous now. The fact you’re carrying your soon to be family. His whole world, how could he not find you all the more irresistible? He corrects such by going down on you that night. “Having sex with a pregnant woman makes the baby a pervert later in life” be damned. You must know how much he can’t get enough of you.
-After such he cuddles you into him like he always does, his stringy brown locks mixed with sweat. As he can still taste your orgasm in his mouth. After you started to breath steadily again, you relent you believe him when he says he knows you’re the sexiest woman alive. He smiles so innocently despite the unholiness of the situation, he cloaks your body in a cool blanket. Kissing you on the cheek and telling you need sleep now.
“It’s never a labor to love you, and our family. Don’t forget that darlin…”
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beenbaanbuun · 12 days
Note
Hey!! I just read your most recent Addams!MATZ fic and the angst is DELICIOUS. Your talent for writing is incredible and your creativity really shines through with each and every fic. The fluff, angst, and even the smut are so wonderfully well done, you're one of my favorite ATEEZ writers.
If you're up to it, and feel free to ignore this, but I'd love to see a part two to the angst Addams!MATZ where seonghwa talks to hongjoong and hongjoong comes to apologize. If that's not something you see yourself continuing, I completely understand!
Make sure to keep yourself healthy and hydrated and get plenty of rest.
thank you for the compliments!!! they mean the world to me. i’m glad that my passion for writing and my love for these boys shines through in my work. here is a continuation <333
——————————————————————————
seonghwa doesn’t even bother to knock before barging into his husbands office. yes, he thinks anger is an ugly emotion, but that doesn’t mean he is immune to it. in fact, it’s the only thing running through him as he steps through the doorway and slams the heavy slab of oak behind him. hongjoong hasn’t shown you the courtesy of being polite; why should seonghwa show his husband the same.
upon hearing the bang of the door, the overworked businessman turns around, pen still in hand and glasses low on his nose. he was half expecting to see your feisty little self again, but instead he’s met with the sight of his husband. if it weren’t for the sneer that twisted up his husbands pretty face, he might’ve explained the same thing he’d tried explaining to you. something tells him that seonghwa wouldn’t have appreciated being told ‘i’m busy, i’ll come and talk to you when i’m finished designing these pieces.’
“what’s wr—” hongjoong doesn’t even get to finish before seonghwa cuts him off with a scoff and a petty roll of the eyes. it’s hardly like him to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and yet hongjoong can see each one of them clear as day. hurt, anger, disappointment; emotions that he never wants anyone he cares about to feel. his heart sinks just a touch as he realises who those emotions are aimed towards.
“you are a piece of work, hongjoong,” seonghwa spits, sounding beautiful even with venom laced through his voice. hongjoong knows that’s the last thing he should be thinking right now, but he can hardly help admiring his husband, even when he is seething. it takes the man a second or two to knock himself free of the love-induced haze and allow the words to sink in. “do you think you’re in the right for yelling at our darling? do you think that just because you’re overworking yourself it gives you the right to make her cry?”
hongjoong’s world comes to a standstill. the clock on the wall stops ticking, the heart in his chest stops beating, and most importantly, for the first time in weeks, the brain in his head stops thinking. finally, finally, it’s no longer filled with a myriad of complex ideas, each one overlapping yet individual in its own right. finally he just has one singular thought. it’s just a shame it isn’t a good one.
he made you cry…
hongjoong made you cry…
it repeats in his head, over and over like a mantra. it taunts him, the idea that he’d upset you so much feeling like nails on a chalkboard. his hairs stand on end and his breath catches in his throat. lord below, what has he done.
“where is she?” his voice is weak, pathetic, nothing like he usually sounds. seonghwa has to admit that his resolve takes a hit when he hears it leave his loves mouth. he reminds himself to remain strong; your pain is his priority right now. “seonghwa, please—”
“take a guess, hongjoong,” seonghwa replies, once again cutting his husband off. this time it wasn’t out of anger but of fear that he might cave if he has to listen to hongjoong’s heartbroken pleas for much longer. the pained look on his face is enough to send seonghwa’s heart into overdrive; he doesn’t need any more distractions from the real reason he’s here. “where might you usually find her when she isn’t with one of us?”
the rug in front of the fire—jongho.
hongjoong almost feels ashamed that he even had to ask; he should’ve realised the second you silently left his office that you’d gone to seek comfort in your favourite onikuma. realistically, though, he should’ve realised a lot of things. it hurts him to know that he was too focused on work to do so.
he stands, and he’s grateful when seonghwa shifts to the side to allow him past, even going as far as to re-open the heavy door for him. hongjoong isn’t quite sure he deserves the soft hand that’s placed against his back as he walks through the doorway, but he appreciates it nonetheless. now isn’t the time to be wondering how he ended up with such a beautiful individual as a soulmate, but he finds himself lingering on that thought as the two of them begin their journey to the living room. it’s hard not to when the warmth of seonghwa’s touch never once leaves him.
in fact, it’s only when the two of them step through the archway that seonghwa gives a small shove to the bottom of hongjoong’s spine before going to reclaim his spot on the couch. with a single nod in your direction, seonghwa redirects his husband’s attention and hongjoong lets his gaze flicker to the floor.
the first thing he’s met with is a glare from the mutt he’d been so reluctant to allow into his abode. normally, the beast would be scolded for being so bold as to openly disrespect his master, but he let it slide this time. he can hardly tell him not to give him the attitude he so clearly deserves. in fact, this is light compared to what he would’ve expected from the overprotective creature.
at least hongjoong knows he’ll make a wonderful guard dog…
“dove,” hongjoong coos softly as he dips down to your level. he can’t remember the last time he’d sat on the floor, but this feels necessary. the closeness is something that he finds himself craving, wanting nothing more than to have you next to him again. he won’t lie and claim that the sole purpose of this is to comfort you; he needs it too, to stave off the guilt that has begun to eat him alive. “can you look at me?”
there’s a certain element of pain in his voice that tells you he’s being sincere. that he truly does feel remorse for how he treated you. whether or not it’s seonghwa that forced it upon him, you don’t particularly care. all you want is to feel hongjoong’s warmth again, so you listen. you turn your head until your watery eyes meet his.
“there she is,” he gives you a humourless chuckle, a sad smile twisting the corners of his mouth up and the corners of his eyebrows down. the warmth of his hand as he places it on your cheek is comforting; more so than any words he could say. you just need him close. he seems to realise that as he turns to the werewolf, dangerously aware of the way his ears twitch angrily above his head. “may i take her, yeosang? i promise i’ll be gentle with her.”
“you weren’t gentle with her earlier,” yeosang growls, behaving more akin to what hongjoong expects from him. it almost has hongjoong flinching back in fear of yet another bite-shaped bruise on his hand.
“that’s true, but i would like i make it up to her,” hongjoong is soft as he speaks, less so for the sake of the angry mutt, and more for the sake of you. he doesn’t want you to see any more anger from him. “besides i really think it should be my little dove’s decision as to whether i get to hold her, don’t you?” yeosang snarls, huffing in dismay as he unravels his arms from you and lets hongjoong swoop you into his. manipulation never really has been the man’s style, but he has to admit that it works wonders with the mutt. use you as leverage, and yeosang will behave like a fully trained lapdog. he’s just like them in that respect; so desperate to make you happy that they’d risk everything, dignity included.
it’s not hard for you to let yourself be passed around like some kind of teddy bear as a pose to a real, living human. you’re tired from crying, not to mention desperate for the confirmation that you’re still hongjoong’s good girl. in fact, as hongjoong tugs you into his grasp like a rag doll, you find yourself leaning into his grasp. it’s so soft compared to his sharp words and cutting tone earlier, and his familiar scent of spices fills your nostrils. it dizzies you, but hongjoong is there to catch you…
“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear as he pulls you up to straddle his crossed legs, “my darling dove, will you forgive me?”
you don’t answer. you don’t find it necessary to. the way you see it there’s nothing to forgive; you annoyed him, he yelled at you. it’s give and take, and despite your emotions getting the better of you, you refuse to place the blame on hongjoong. not all of it, at least.
“only if you forgive me too,” is the answer you finally settle on, mumbling it into his neck. he squirms a little at the tickling sensation, and in your own mind, you find yourself thinking he’s cute.
“you have nothing to forgive, my dove,” he answers, “but if it will make you forgive me, then yes; i forgive you…”
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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 months
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SFW and NSFW hcs with Fem Reader and Itadori and eventually Sukuna in a threesome? Like, S/O and Itadori were childhood friends turned middle school sweethearts and love each other deeply. When Sukuna comes along, Itadori is very protective of S/O, not wanting his sweet cinnamon roll girlfriend to be hurt. S/O would care for both, even if a bit scared of Sukuna, and if he pops up anywhere on Itaodri’s body, shoving food or a pacifier or even drawing silly things where the curse is should do.
SFW
Itadori is the cutest boyfriend ever. He’s always excited to see you and to spend time with you. He has no issue holding your hand in public and giving you kisses. He gets a little embarrassed when someone mentions how overly affectionate he can be but it’s usually good fun!
Being childhood friends makes Itadori that much more protective over you. Because you’re childhood friends, it takes him a while to associate his feelings of friendship with you into being in love with you because your family would always make sure to check in on him and his grandfather and watch out for him as well growing up, which confused his feelings about you for a bit. However, once he realizes it, it makes you that much closer.
He’s nervous about confessing to you because he doesn’t want to risk your friendship but you’re already so in love with him that neither of you consider dating other people anyway.
When he finally acquires Sukuna, the curse doesn’t think much of you other than a way to torture Itadori when he’s bored, and Itadori is doing his best to hide Sukuna from you because he doesn’t want to scare you or have the curse revealing his inner most thoughts to you.
It doesn’t last long because naturally you become curious about his new face “tattoos” and when you go to poke his cheek, you’re surprised to find an eye cracking open and staring at you and a mouth hissing at you that it’s his eye before spilling out the entire fact Itadori has a demon inside him to scare you and that he’d kill you if you tried something like that again.
Itadori is worried about having you around even more now, but you’re not really scared of Sukuna since Itadori is the strongest person you’ve known since you were a kid, and you believe in him that he can control Sukuna.
You’re always making lighthearted of Sukuna’s interruptions, laughing off how he must feel left out of the conversation whenever he pops in on Itadori’s face. You did this mostly to make Itadori feel better about the situation whenever Sukuna would try to scare you. Eventually, you started to simply like teasing the fellow.
Itadori becomes even more mortified when Sukuna starts to switch targets and explain in gross details all the things Itadori wanted to do to you, and what he would actually do to you the minute he takes over Itadori. He really wants to wipe that grin off your face. You’re not too concerned, throwing back your own “ganbare, ganbare” about it before doodling a mustache above his mouth.
Itadori isn’t sure whether to be concerned or thankful that Sukuna hasn’t managed to drive you off yet. He’d like to thank it is the latter.
NSFW
Despite how sweet he can be, Itadori can also be a bit of a perv, which is nothing shocking or unnatural. However, you didn’t fully realize how much he thought about you in that manner until Sukuna voiced it. He thinks about biting you like this and bending you over like that. Instead of being put off, you were turned on and happy to take the next step with your boyfriend.
Itadori blushes when you ask, “if we have sex, does that make Sukuna an unwilling participant to our threesome?” He says not to call it that, but you can see him blush when you straddle above his waist.
Itadori tries to keep Sukuna under control in order to protect you, but it doesn’t always work especially when he’s distracted by your lips around his cock. He’s always apologizing to his sweet baby because sometimes his concentration breaks because Sukuna is trying to switch, and he can’t focus on all the cute little licks you’re giving him right now.
When Itadori fingers you, Sukuna is eating you out, forcing his tongue against your clit causing you to mewl and squirm. Itadori is angrily grumbling against your mouth at the fact Sukuna keeps getting in the way but you’re moaning louder in his mouth. Just this once he’s too horny to question it right now or to keep arguing.
Itadori gets competitive with the voice inside his mind whenever Sukuna complains about how he isn’t doing it right or not treating you as he should. It’s a bit boring isn’t it, where’s the throwing around, the choking; let him show you a good time. It gets Itadori a bit riled up and makes him go harder.
When he takes over, Sukuna is quick to take what he wants from you, degrading you about how much you seem to like it. In your head, you think, ‘Well, why not? It’s your boyfriend’s body, and you like Itadori and Sukuna so it’s not really a big deal…and it felt good to feel something so different.’
It eventually becomes a hot topic for Sukuna to bother Itadori with how much you like him better, and how loud he got you to scream and the way you begged and quivered when you came undone.
It eventually ends up with Sukuna convincing Itadori to let him out every so often (he’s not going to hurt you even if you can be an annoying little whore at times and the brat can seal him back whenever he wants right, so what’s the harm?) and you end being able to have what almost seems like two different sides of the same person.
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