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#📝: writing
serious-goose · 6 months
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ed and stede as innkeepers though would be so funny. because they're both insane. so imagine you show up to the inn and ed answers the door in a kiss the cook apron and tells you all about how he's an innkeeper and not a pirate and sometimes a fisherman and an accountant. and that dinner is at 8 and he hopes you like fish because he's cooking fish for dinner ('again' stede adds curtly). and stede shows you to your room and tells you about all the furniture and art in the place and how 'none of it is stolen, if you were wondering'. and there's a lot of erotic merman art in the gift shop. and the place is quaint but you can't sleep because the owners are having fucking buck wild sex downstairs so it makes it hard to make eye contact with them at breakfast.
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toruro · 5 months
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— ✧ back to december
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a part of flower me with love ... an hhu unit x flowers collection !
genre: smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, angst (resolved!), best friends to strangers to lovers
description: it's been four months and twenty-two days since you've last talked to mingyu, however your mother still thinks you two are friends. you don't have the heart to tell her what really happened, and now you think it's time for you to move on. (un?)fortunately for you though, mingyu seems to have other plans.
inspired by back to december by taylor swift!
tags: miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr though), big dick mingyu, sex in a car >_<, riding, fingering, pet names (angel, pretty), creampie :3
w/c: 4.3k
a/n: happy birthday @gyuswhore!!! this fic is for em but if not em and ur reading it i hope u enjoy too. this is like 2/3 plot and 1/3 smut if anyone cares
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Normality is bliss.
That’s what you used to tell yourself. That’s what you used to believe.
Normality was bright mornings, crisp air, slow walking down the main street, inhaling the ambrosial scent of freshly roasted coffee beans, and slipping under the fairy lights that hang over the door. It was the warm sound of the overhead bell ringing, permeating laughter in the cafe from all customers, and daisies in a pot by the entrance.
Normality was Mingyu. His bright laugh as you approach the counter, sweet voice as he playfully asks you what drink you’d like, to which you roll your eyes and respond with, “You already know, don’t you?” It was the chuckle he would let out, the wink he flashed at you, murmuring the words, “It’s on the house” (because with Mingyu, it was always on the house), the thanks you give him before stepping back.
Normality was the latte he handed you, rough yet ginger fingers brushing over your palm as he warned you, “Careful, it’s hot,” and the giggle you let out when you stepped back and asked how his morning was going. It was Mingyu telling you nothing special happened yet. It was Mingyu suggesting that you two hang out at the field after he’s done with work. It was you grinning and agreeing in an instant, but only under the condition that he picks you up after your class.
Normality was bliss until four months and twenty-two days ago.
Now, normality hurts like a bitch.
Your mother glances at you from the corner of her vision as you rummage through the fridge. “What’re you looking for?”
“Some bread,” you murmur. “Was really craving a tomato sandwich 
 Damn, we’re seriously out of white bread?” you ask, giving up with a sigh as you close the door and face her.
She shrugs. “If it’s not in the fridge then I guess so. We’re low on produce too actually 
 I’d be surprised if you find tomatoes in there too,” she says. You purse your lip, shuffling through the different rows of cabinets to find something to throw together to take for lunch as your mother continues to speak. “You think you could stop by the grocery store after class today and pick up some stuff?”
“Yeah sure,” you reply casually.
“Ah, I wish Mingyu still stopped by with the groceries,” your mother says, and the sudden mention of his name has you halting your movements as you reach for a croissant, before you inhale deeply and go back to doing your own thing.
“Yeah,” you say quietly, clearing your throat after the word comes out horsley.
“You know why he stopped doing that?”
You try not to think about how you still haven’t told your mother that you and Mingyu don’t talk anymore.
“Uhh, I guess uni’s been getting to be a lot of work,” you tell her. “We’re both taking way harder classes so, uh, I guess he doesn’t have the time.”
“Hmm, yeah makes sense. You’re always swamped up in that room of yours ‘cause of work too 
 haven’t seen you two hang out in a while actually.”
You chew on your lip, staring down at your little bag for lunch and the croissant that sits inside. You wonder if you’ll even have the appetite to eat anything today after this conversation.
“We’re just busy. It’s harder to talk now.” It’s not entirely a lie. Grabbing the bag and picking up your backpack, you turn to face your mother who’s scrolling on her phone. “I’m gonna go now. My first class is starting soon.”
Now, normality is huffing as you get into your car, wishing you had a coffee next to you, but being too full of cowardice to head over to the cafe.
(“Go to a different cafe!” is what common sense would tell you, but common sense doesn’t listen to a love that has been betrayed. No other latte tastes the same, but you know that’s only because no other latte has been made by Mingyu.)
You pick up groceries on the way home.
Now, normality is staring at the daisies that are on display as you walk through the front doors of the store and reminiscing. It’s wondering what once was, and what could have been, if you decided to keep your silly feelings to yourself.
Normality is regretting. Regretting ever opening your mouth and telling Mingyu four months and twenty-two days ago that you loved him, and that you had loved him for not one, not two, not five, but ten damn years, because that was when you two met, and you always loved Kim Mingyu, but you should have known that not once did he love you back. Not how you would’ve wanted anyways.
Normality is wondering. Wondering if Mingyu would still be dropping off groceries if you hadn’t told him that you loved him, if he hadn’t told you he didn’t know what to tell you. Wondering if he thinks of you now. Wondering if he has any regrets. Wondering if he’s okay, but you lost the chance to know the answer to that question four months and twenty-two days ago. Wondering if—
Tomatoes. You need to buy the tomatoes, and the bread, some green beans, spinach, bell pepper, and more cheese, milk, maybe some butter, and—what was it that your mother told you to get? Oh, some strawberries.
You need to get all of these things, but there were no daisies on the list, so how did a bouquet full of them end up in your cart? You tell yourself you picked them up because they’re on sale, but you know the real reason is because you miss Mingyu.
Directing your attention back to the list you were sent on your phone, you hum lowly to yourself as you push your cart through the aisles. Checking items off your notes app, you exist with just yourself, your tomatoes, and fresh daisies as you try and finish these groceries before it gets too late into the evening.
Staring at your screen, you almost don’t notice that the dairy aisle isn’t empty until you bump into someone. “Sorry,” you mutter quickly, “I—” The words get caught in your throat when you see just exactly who you’ve hit.
Averting your gaze quickly, you wonder if Mingyu will respond, but you choose to scurry away quickly instead, because as cowardly as it sounds, you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear his voice again.
You’re not sure why your heart beats so fast when you escape into another aisle. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t read the look on his face for the brief second that your eyes met.
(Ten years of being best friends and you somehow don’t know what he’s thinking. Can four months and twenty-two days really change a person that much? Or did you never know Kim Mingyu in the first place?)
When you get home, your mother asks you where you got the daisies from. You tell her Mingyu gave them to you, because you want to convince her that you two are still best friends, and maybe—just maybe—you’re trying to convince yourself of it too.
You decide to buy a latte five days later. Mingyu never worked the evening shifts, so you’re confident you’ll get one of the other’s as the barista if you walk in past 6pm. Seokmin’s always nice. He doesn’t make the latte’s as sweet as you like—more specifically, as sweet as Mingyu made them—but he’s kind and always cheery.
When you walk in today, the pot by the door is empty. There are no more daisies, and you wonder if this is what has become of normality.
Your eyes glaze over the familiar setting, breathing in the sweet, rusty smell of coffee, and you smile watching all the cafe-goers laugh along with each other in their seats. All is going well, and you’re telling yourself that maybe this new normal isn’t too bad. That you’ve lived with it for four months and twenty-seven days, and so you can live with it longer and—
Your heart plummets when you see who's working the register today.
Maybe you really never knew Kim Mingyu, because you swore he hated the evening shifts, but here he is with a neatly tied apron, smiling while he talks to some girl across the counter. And his toothy grin is so bright and you aren’t sure if you’re seeing things correctly because everything sound has turned to a white rush in your ears and your vision blurs because you are once again awarded the painful reminder that you are in love with Kim Mingyu.
You thought your heart broke right in two back in December, but you hear it crack in this moment and realize that this was the final blow.
There are tears in your eyes, and you don’t know how long you stand there, until you hear your name. Seokmin is calling for you, and when you look up there’s no girl at the counter and it’s just Mingyu and Seokmin staring at you.
And you wonder briefly if you should be glad that Mingyu looks concerned but you don’t have time to dwell on the fact because Seokmin calls for you again—“Hey, are you okay? You—you’re crying”—and fuck, you’ve just humiliated yourself, so with fat tears hitting the dark wood ground you turn on your heel and rush out the door.
You keep thinking and wondering and regretting and you hate it all because regret has become normality, but regret is not a bliss.
You walk down the street, and you keep walking and walking and walking until you realize you forgot where you parked the car but none of that matters because all you’re thinking about is Mingyu’s smile, and how he doesn’t smile at you anymore. And so you walk faster and cry a bit harder until you’re so far down the street you don’t even know where you are anymore but it doesn’t matter because you don’t know who you’ve become.
And there’s footsteps thudding behind you—are you going to get kidnapped now? Fuck, you’ve already had the most horrendous sequence of events that could possibly happen to you in the span of five minutes, and now it’s going to get worse? If this goddamn kidnapper could just target you any other day, then maybe you wouldn’t whip around with tearful eyes, shouting into the dark: “Please don’t kidnap me! I’ll go with you any other day but—Mingyu!?”
His tall figure is hunched over, hands over his thighs as he heaves for breath, craning his neck to look up at you. “Kidnap you? Why in the world would I kidnap you?” he asks through harsh breaths. “Fuck, you walk so fast,” he groans, finally standing up as you furiously wipe your tears away in an attempt to actually make sense of this situation.
“I—” You want to reply, but then it hits you that this is the first time Mingyu has spoken to you in four months and twenty-seven days, and the thought is dizzying. “I don’t know,” you tell him, because you really don’t know. You don’t know a damn thing.
Mingyu looks at you with a look that you, once again, can’t seem to read. “Sorry, I—I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” you tell him, and anyone would be able to see through the lie but you’re hoping that Mingyu doesn’t pry any further. He doesn’t move, nor does he say anything. “You can, uh, go back now,” you add, rubbing the back of your neck as you stare at the ground. “I’m okay.”
“You—you were crying.”
Opening your mouth to protest, you realize you can’t refute him now. Not when it was so painfully obvious. You choose silence instead, hoping that your apprehension will be enough to drive him away, although it only seems to egg Mingyu on.
You don’t expect the words he blurts out after a few moments of thickness.
“You don’t know how much I wish I could go back to December and change things.”
“Please don’t lie to me Mingyu,” you tell him, and he can just hear from the way you say his name that you are desperately pleading with him. When you finally look up at him with glossy eyes, he wonders how in the world he let things get this far.
“I’m not lying, I—I wouldn’t lie about this.”
“What do you mean by this, Mingyu? What is this?” You cover your face and begin to sob, but not without gasping out words between heavy breaths. “Please don’t do this to me, not again.”
And when you uncover your face and look at him again, he’s got some bewildered look on his face, and you can’t tell what he’s going to say next.
“The girl,” Mingyu starts to say. “That’s my cousin. She was visiting me at work and—”
“It’s not about the girl, Mingyu!” And that’s a bit of a lie because some part of it is about the girl but it’s mainly about you and it’s mainly about Mingyu—mainly about the two of you.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and speaks. “Sorry, I—you’re right.”
Silence once more, before you calm your breaths and shake your head. “You should head back, Mingyu.”
“No I—wait, I just—I’m not lying. I regret everything I did in December.”
“Ming—”
“No, please listen to me. I regret not telling you how I actually felt, but I was so confused,” he tells you, repeating your name. “I was confused and fucking terrified because if things didn’t work out for some reason, then I would’ve lost my best friend but—but I was fucking stupid and lost you anyways. And you know, I wanted to reach out. I wanted to talk to you so bad but then like last week, when I saw you in the grocery store, and—daisies.”
“Daisies?” You furrow your brows.
“Daisies. You had a bouquet of them in your cart,” Mingyu tells you, taking a step forward. “And I know how much you love daisies. Your favorite flowers in the world. I saw them in your cart and thought to myself, fuck, I missed my chance, because I thought you had them for someone else and—”
“They weren’t,” you blurt out. “I-I even told my mom you got me them,” you add bashfully, “because she doesn’t know we stopped 
 yeah.”
There’s a silence that sits between you two, but youïżœïżœïżœre starting to realize that silence has become normality and you are no longer content with that.
“Mingyu, do you love me?”
He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “More than you love daisies.”
You laugh through your drying tears. You laugh so hard it makes you cry no longer because of pain but because of happiness, and you shake your head and throw your arms around him. “Kim Mingyu, that is a bold statement.”
“What can I say?” he grins. “I’m a bold man.”
“Where was that bold man for the past four months and twenty-seven days?” you snort.
Mingyu raises a brow. “You’ve been counting?” For a moment your expression falls but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry—I’ve been too.”
You two are quick to head back, Mingyu begging Seokmin to hold the first alone for the weekend before taking the wheel of your car and driving you both to your favorite field of daisies.
“Are we going to have sex for the first time in your car?” Mingyu asks with a chuckle, climbing into the backseat from one end while you pile in from the other.
Giggling, you meet his lips for a kiss as soon as the door shuts behind him, arms winding around his thick neck to bring him close. “The way you said that insinuates there we’ll be having more sex after this,” you tell him with a smile before diving back into another tongue twisting kiss.
“Hell yeah,” Mingyu groans against your tongue as you adjust to situate yourself over his lap, hips pressing dangerously close to his. “Gonna fuck you every day if I can. If you can handle that,” he adds.
You roll your eyes, pulling back to help yourself out of the cardigan and shirt you’re wearing. “What makes you think I can’t handle it?”
He only flashes you a toothy grin and quickly glances down at his groin area before winking at you. “You’ll see.”
“Kim Mingyu, you are a little shit,” you conclude despite the way your tummy churns at his insinuation, throwing off your shirt as Mingyu helps you out of a bra.
“I’m not little, that’s for sure 
 fuck, you’ve got the prettiest tits in the world,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you closer so he can plant his lips on the soft flesh. His mouth is warm, tongue tracing constellations over our skin before enclosing one of your nipples with his lips.
Slowly, his tongue traces circles around the stiffened nipple, teeth grazing over it ever so gently before biting down with slight force. “Ah!” you moan out, head thrown back as your hands travel up his neck and into his hair, fisting the thick, dark locks. “‘m sensitive, ‘gyu,” you tell him, shaky-breathed as he pulls his mouth off your tits with a slip popping sound.
“Sorry,” he says with a lazy smile. “Your tits are so nice,” Mingyu murmurs, bringing a hand up to squeeze over your other breast, tweaking the nipple in one hand as your hands begin to play with the hem of his tight fit shirt. “Fuck, can’t believe we didn’t fuck earlier. You know how much time we could’ve saved?” he says, pulling away just for a moment to peel the shirt off his body, revealing his firm, thick torso.
“I wonder whose fault that is?” You roll your eyes.
Mingyu frowns in response. “Don’t remind me 
 angel, take off your pants. Wanna finger you.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice, because in an instant your hands are at the waistband of your pants as heat rises to your cheeks upon hearing his words. Just the thought of Mingyu’s thick, longer fingers inside your aching cunt is enough for it to pulse around nothing as you throw your pants to the side and shove your panties to reveal your core.
“Atta girl,”  he murmurs under his breath as you readjust yourself over his lap so that he can have better access between your legs. Slowly, he brings one hand up to your exposed cunt, bringing his middle finger to circle around your gaping hole. “Shit, you’re so wet, angel 
 so wet for me.”
“Just for you ‘gyu, just for you” you gasp out when he sinks one finger in, rough pads rubbing against your warm, gummy walls.
Now Mingyu occasionally entertains the outrageous idea that he’s well composed, but he’d be a fool to deny that, even though he can turn you to mush in the palm of his hand, you also have him wrapped around your little finger.
You only have to beg him once or twice for a second finger before he’s giving in, wanting nothing more than to spoil you until you can’t even remember what you were asking for in the first place. And naturally, when you finally tell him that you’re ready for more—ready for his cock—he can’t help but grin and comply.
“You think you’re ready?” he asks, slipping his fingers out and shoving them into your mouth so you can taste yourself.
“You think I’m not?” you mumble around his fingers. You pout a little and Mingyu chuckles, leaning in to give you a wet and sloppy kiss before lifting his hips a little.
“You’ll see angel 
 help me take this all off,” he tells you, and you’re quick to grab at his waistband and yank his pants and boxers down at the same time.
“What are you talking ab—oh.” The words dry on your tongue when you see his cock spring out, from underneath his boxers, the thickness slapping against Mingyu’s abdomen.
It’s fat and long and veiny in all the right places, heavy balls resting at the base of it, the reddish-pink tip smeared all over with his shiny, translucent white precum.
“Yeah,” Mingyu says with yet another chuckle, watching your face as you gaze down at his cock in awe.
“I-is it gonna fit?” you ask incredulously, eyes glancing back and forth between the smirk on Mingyu’s lips and the long length of his cock. Mingyu just shrugs and smooths his hands over your hips, your stomach, and then your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss.
Your stomach flutters, cunt growing more and more needy and wet as the seconds tick by, and the way Mingyu’s tongue flicks against yours only heightens the feeling. When he pulls away, he settles his hands over your waist and directs you right over his cock, and something in you swells with pure arousal with the next words he says.
“Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit. You trust me?”
“Yeah,” you breath out, steadying your position as Mingyu uses one hand to guide his heavy length so that the tip points upwards and presses right against you.
“Fuck yeah,” he hisses, and you moan as you feel him sliding against your folds in a slippery, sticky mess. “old onto me, yeah angel? If you want to stop just—”
“Say the word,” you finish for him, placing your hands on Mingyu’s bare shoulders as an attempt to steady yourself, breath hitching as his length pushes into your entrance. “Oh shit, ‘gyu!" you cry out as you begin to sink down on him.
Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes—you can’t even fathom how, even after all his prep, Mingyu still feels like he’s nearly splitting you in half.
“Fuck, pretty—you’re so fucking tight,” Mingyu grunts, helping you nearly impale yourself on his cock. “Fucking fitting inside you so well,” he praises as he bottoms out inside of you, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder as you take deep breath.
Mingyu knows he’s big—knows it’s hard to fit him inside of you—and he’s feels so fucking lucky that he has you—so willing to take all that he’s giving—sucking him in and whining for more. He waits a few moments, only listening to the way your heavy breaths start to grow lighter, until you’re whimpering a soft, “‘gyu.”
He wastes no time in jerking his hips upward, shifting inside of you and battering the inside of your soft walls. You bite down on his shoulder as you push your hips down to meet his thrusts, choking back soft sobs as you feel his cock kiss your cervix with each movement.
“Holy shit,” Mingyu grunts as you begin to bounce on his lap, his length slipping out of you halfway before being plunged right back in with a sopping mess growing on his thighs.
You whine loudly at the overwhelming pleasure that takes over your body, lifting your head up so you could look at Mingyu with your mouth agape and hair stuck all over your burning face, a sheer layer of sweat starting to envelope both your bodies.
Soon, both of your movements begin to grow erratic and sloppy, hips jamming into each other so hard you’d be surprised if you even have the ability to walk tomorrow. You now know why Mingyu was concerned about fucking every day.
“You g’na cum soon pretty? Cum all over my cock? I can feel it angel, can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me.”
“Fuck, Mingyu,” you manage to gasp out, “Yeah, ’m gonna cum—feels so good, so full, so—fuck!”
Mingyu’s cock pulses inside of you and that’s when every detail seems to be heightened to a thousand—as your orgasm racks through you, you seem to feel every curve, every vein, dragging in and out of you to such detail that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you scream out his name.
Mingyu watches you fall apart, surrendering to bliss, and the way your hips are sporadically swiveling over his, your pussy’s wetness coating and creaming his cock has him going into a frenzy. Frantically, he begins to snap his hips faster up into you, your soft moans of overstimulation pushing him to his end faster than he can ever imagine. Watching the way he slides in and out of you is enough to have him cumming, shooting his hot, sticky load inside your warm cunt.
Riding out the last of his orgasm with soft rolls of his hips, Mingyu sighs contently at the feeling of you milking him dry, the both of you looking down at the wet, dirty mess you’ve made where the two of you connect, his cock still throbbing inside of you.
Both of you finally look up at the same time, grinning at each other, and you flop forward resting your head on his chest as he slowly combs his fingers through your hair, other hand running up and down your back.
“Why’d you start working the evening shifts?” you ask Mingyu after your breath has finally leveled. “I thought you hated those.”
“I did, but you stopped coming in the mornings, and I figured it was because of me. I hoped that maybe you would start coming in the evenings so I asked my boss to change my regular shifts just in case.”
“Oh wow, you really do love me.”
“I already told you I do! Even more than you love daisies, remember?”
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vagabond-umlaut · 26 days
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INVERSE FUNCTION (1)
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yandere sukuna x fem!reader; stalking; insp: this song [pls listen to this after reading]
divider by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine; pls don't plagiarise/translate/repost this ❀❀
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Sukuna is hooked on you.
He has no idea since when, why or how– but he has a very good idea of the degree he is hooked on you— each and every small bit of you–
Your sleepy face, first thing in the morning as you open the windows to your room, and stare at the sky then the empty street below. Your peppy walk out the apartment, not even an hour later as you head to your classes, always so punctual– so neatly, cutely dressed.
The warm smiles you offer everyone you come across— be it the kids waiting for their bus, the florist, the barista who serves you coffee, or the many classmates you've whenever you step into the class, words of greeting leaving you and brightening the room, more than the sun.
And not to mention the endearing look of concentration your pretty features wear, when the classes start.
Sukuna swears he has to actively, very painfully, restrain himself from walking right up to you and kissing your face off, each and every time your eyebrows gather together and your lips pucker into a pout– only for your teeth to sink into your lower lip not a moment later, the flesh there growing angry red, deliciously so, as you continue taking notes of the lecture.
Although... the man thinks his favourite look on you has got to be the one you wear in the evening: when the classes are over, when all your friends have finally left, when you're by yourself, no longer smiling as brightly as you do. Seeming so tired, so very fragile, as you trudge on the darkening streets back to your flat...
It makes something weird, but not wholly unpleasant, curl up within his chest. So strong that it makes him want to pick up into his arms, and keep you there forever, safe and sound and well-rested. Forever with him, tucked in the safety of his embrace—
Sukuna is not too sure, but he thinks this feeling might be why he has suddenly decided to break into your house today, instead of watching you from afar like he has always done. Or maybe, just maybe...
Watching you from a distance is no longer enough for him.
He has to enter the place you call 'home'.
He has to soak up every drop, memorise every fleck of your life here.
Starting from the random tiny doodles scribbled on the canary yellow walls— to the thick hardcover books and notebooks in neat stacks on the sofa, the table, the floor— to the pressure cooker kept on the oval burner of your gas stove— to the queen-size bed in a floral bed sheet, visible if he walks past the translucent screen between your bedroom and living room— to the sketchbook lying on the bed– its pages filled with– filled with–
Sketches Of Him!?!?
Him working in the garage on a car. Him smoking at the bus stop you travel from. Him dozing in class, head propped up on a fist. Him busy eating sandwiches, binoculars on the bench beside as his gaze stays somewhere above—
The sketchbook is filled with drawings of him, him, and only him—
Something stirs and stutters and stomps on his sternum; albeit he is unsure why. Is it the fact that he finally realises he is standing right in the middle of your bedroom– the most intimate place in your life? Or is it because he is staring at these many sketches your dainty fingers have made of him– so beautiful, so careful, so unlike him?
Can it be the unease clawing at him, stemming from your knowledge of him being in places close to you, where and when he should never be? Or– maybe or– is it the thrill tingling his fingers, when he realises, you too have been at places close to him, where and when you must never ever be...
A door opens and shuts behind him.
Sukuna swerves back to find you standing outside your bathroom, in nothing but a flimsy nightgown, hair still soaking wet whilst the towel hangs off your bare shoulders.
Your eyes jump from him to the sketchbook in his hand then to him— before crinkling into two pretty half-crescents as you smile... Sort of–
"Tea or coffee, stranger?"
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follow the series here đŸ„°đŸ„° // masterlist
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brunetteaura · 5 months
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GOOD THINGS ARE LOOKING FOR ME TOO
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promisingyounglady · 24 days
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four eyes. | BF x Reader
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PAIRINGS: Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS: asking bob to make a mess of himself on your face while you wear his glasses? absolutely.
WORD COUNT: 1.8k
WARNINGS: ahem, SMUT, established relationship, profanity, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, facial, handjob, cum eating, dirty talk, begging, slightly sub!reader, praise, aftercare and such sweet affection from bobby, not proofread and mdni!!, reader is a minx, brief mention of term ‘slut’, size kink, awkward sweetheart w a big dick!bob,
A/N: this is the most filthiest shit I’ve ever written and if you like this ur crazy
 *reblogs, comments and likes the post*
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“What are you up to?” he drawls, watching carefully as you crawl over his naked midriff and through the sea of bedsheets. Post-sex endorphins were through the roof right now for Bob, a wave of happy tiredness sweeping over the pilot.
You huff, hand outstretched as you reach for Bob's glasses perched on the bedside table.
“I wanna try these on” you say to him, balancing yourself as you try to grab the frames. Bob chuckles, a hand coming to rub your ass lovingly.
You bit your lip to fight the feeling of a grin spreading on your face, the feeling of Bob's soft hands tickling you as you playfully pushed him away, all the while he simply beams at you.
The hand supporting yourself on his hard chest slips, causing you to collapse on top of your boyfriend, your naked breasts brushing over his cock and sending a shiver down his spine.
A firm hand comes to still yourself. “Careful” he says softly, hands warm.
Bob looks over, grabbing the glasses just as you were about to pick them up, and holding them out of your reach. You protest, trying to get ahold of the frames you loved so much. Bob puts them on, allowing himself to properly see his girl.
“You don’t wanna wear these, they don’t look good on anyone. Including me.” he mumbles, adjusting you on top of him.
But you're quick to swipe them off his face, ignoring Bob's laughs when you put the glasses on yourself and straddle his hips. “I like them, they’re cute,” you tell him.
“Well what d’ya know?” Bob utters softly to himself when he sees you, gazing up at his girl wearing the steel rimmed aviators and looking absolutely breathtaking.
“Hi there, four eyes” he chuckles, finding it odd saying a phrase he’s been nicknamed all his childhood. Hell, even Seresin has no problem calling him that to this day.
Bob smiles, strong but soft hands coming to rest on your hips as you sat dangerously close to where his happy trail leads to. Your brows furrowed as you viewed the world through his lenses.
“Jesus, Bob, you really are blind!” You uttered, looking down at the blurry man seated against the bedpost.
Bob’s become busy at the moment, pressing pecks to your hardended nipples. He simply nods, pretending he’s listening.
“You should go to the eye doctor, honey”
Bob peaks through, giving you a look. “That’s where I got them”
“Hm.”
The room is silent, a soft glow of the afternoon sunlight peeking through the white shutters. You feel the corners of Bob’s lips curling into a smile against your skin, a silent worship to your body.
“You’re so soft.” he murmurs.
“Honey,” you call to your boyfriend.
“Hm?” Bob replies absentmindedly, still brushing his face along your chest, hugging you closer.
You tug on his brown locks, pulling his head from your body and looking down at him.
“I wanna try something.” you grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes mixed with a bottle of excitement. You quickly press a kiss to his lips.
Bob watches as you pull from his grasp, lips forming a small frown from the loss of contact as you shuffled down the bed so you were now kneeling on the floor by the edge.
Bob looks over at you quizzically, wondering what you were up to before you beckon towards him, ushering him to sit at the edge of the bed.
“Come sit, Robert” you directed, calling him by his birth name to get his attention.
His soft cock limps near his thighs as he adjusts himself, sitting before you in all his naked glory, hair tousled by your hands and a pink blush ghosting his cheeks. His hand comes up to play with your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. You look up in seriousness and confess.
“I want you to cum on these glasses”
Bob stops all motion, hand still tucked behind your ear. The room falls silent.
“What?”
You ignore the bafflement of your crimson cheeked boyfriend, bending down to lick a long stripe up his veiny shaft. A loud moan and harsh tug against your scalp brings you to take him further, almost triggering your gag reflexes. It all happens so fast. Bob mutters incoherently from the sudden gesture, both of you going slightly insane when your nose presses against his pubic bone as tears form near your eyes.
“Baby, hold on a moment, Jesus fuck!”
You’re worried you’re going to make a mess on the floor from the way your slick almost drips from your pussy.
You’ve been thinking of this fantasy for a while if you were to be honest. Bob pulls you back, gasping for air as a proud feeling settles in your chest. It’s not everyday you hear Bob cuss like that.
He’s panting hard, watching as a bit of saliva is smeared on your lips, eyes glossy. Bob sighs in exasperation as you decide to stroke his cock with your hands.
“You gotta let me speak-“
“Please, Bobby” you beg, pressing kisses to the pink tip and relishing in the way you feel him harden in your hand. A loud groan escapes Bob's throat, feeling sensitive despite having had sex the whole afternoon with you.
“I want you to cum while I have your glasses on” you told him, kitten licks getting the best of your boyfriend. “Like in those pornos” you mumble softly, your shy giggles driving Bob insane.
“Nobody says pornos anymore” he mumbles telling you, swallowing hard when you tug on his cock tighter for not responding.
Bob clears his throat. “You, um, want me to give you a facial?” He asks softly, holding onto your hand that's stroking his cock.
You nod eagerly.
“A-Are you sure?” He says, worried that taking him like this is gonna wear you out. In all honesty, the boy can’t help but grow hard at the thought of cumming all over your innocent face, big eyes covered by his glasses milked by his seed.
You nod, excitement and horniness flowing through your body.
“Please, honey, I want you to see me painted” you sighed, thumb brushing over the thick tip, smearing precum over the slit.
Bob thinks he’s gonna cum just from this angle, but he needs you so badly he tries to regain composure. He bends down to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips and letting your face be held in his soft touch. “Let me know if it's too much baby” he addresses in concern, the tears on your cheeks worrying him.
You sniffle, nodding your head to assure him. “Want you so bad, Bobby, let me suck you”
Your last few words are incoherent from the way you let Bob’s big cock stuff your throat, making you gag but desperately hold on. Bob lets go, both hands coming to balance himself on the edge, one gripping the bed sheets.
The sensation is fucking marvellous. You feel so full, loving the way the stretch of your mouth and untouched ache of your pussy turn you cockdrunk on Bob Floyd’s dick.
You look up, desperate to see how he's taking you, wanting to see the expression of him getting the daylights sucked out of him.
Lieutenant Bob ruts his hips pathetically, trying so hard not to make a mess of your mouth and hurt you. His head is pulled back, groans falling from his soft lips as he praises you so good.
“That’s it baby, doing so well for me” he sighs, now two large hands coming to push you a little further, a groan falling from his lips as you take him fully now.
“God, I love you!” he cries out loud, an instinctive response coming from your boyfriend as he caresses your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. You smile, aviator lenses reflecting the light as your lips are wrapped securely around his dick.
”So pretty, such a pretty girl” he says under his breath, admiring the way your tits bounce along with every stroke on his cock. You gasp, pulling away as you let your fist do the rest.
“I love you too, Bobby” you gasped, looking up to find Bob staring at you intensely, with such a fierce gaze of love, sensuality, and pure awe.
”H-How,” he begins, starting to feel a familiar feeling settle inside him. “How did I get so lucky with you?” He admits, wanting nothing more but to see his cum painting his glasses you’re wearing. He thinks he might just let you have them. Being able to see is overrated anyways.
“I think I’m gonna cum, baby” he lets out, watching as your eyes get eager, adjusting your sore knees so you can get the perfect angle.
“Please baby, give it to me” you begged, pussy so sensitive you have to make sure you hold yourself up enough so the cold wooden floors don’t brush against your folds.
Watching you rub his dick like that, mouth open and face ready is an image Bob will have ingrained in his mind forever, a hot spurt of milky liquid shooting onto your lips as Bob finally gives you what you wanted.
Incoherent mumbles fill the sweaty bedroom, letting one hand cup his balls as the other makes sure to smear the warm fluid all over your lips, glasses starting to get foggy.
“Fucking hell” Bob cries out, spilling your name from his lips like a sacred mantra.
You hum, a wave of both happiness and satisfaction washing over you as you sit in front of Bob’s glory.
You let the man come down from his high, tasting salt and your boyfriend in your mouth. Before you can even clean yourself up, Bob is ripping off the dirtied glasses framing your face, and grabbing you towards him for a passionate kiss. The action makes you dizzy, your red, sore knees almost buckling under.
It’s only a while after when he pulls away, grabbing for a box of tissues near the nightstand and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry for the mess” he replies shyly, the image of this tall, naked, handsome, and yet totally awkward giant taking care of you making it all worthwhile.
“It’s okay” you reply, voice hoarse. You couldn’t help but feel happy, even if you didn’t cum (Bob would see to it later of course).
You feel him use the tissues to wipe your chin, face, and tits, or really, what was leftover after you sucked it all up like a slut.
“You’re crazy sometimes, you know that?” Bob mumbles, shaking his head as he smiles at you, his soft touch so rewarding.
You laugh, latching your arms around his neck and letting him hoist you up so easily. His semi-hard cock limps against your stomach, both of you standing up and lips pressing together in another soft kiss.
”Thank you for the most mind blowing head of my life.” He jokes.
”Thanks for the facial” you gleam, sucking your fingers with a pop that makes Bob weak, falling back down on the mattress and taking you with him so you’re straddling him again.
Bob reaches for the glasses, getting a tissue so he could wipe them before an idea pops in your head and you stop him.
You put on the glasses again. He looks up.
“Bobby, where’s the Polaroid camera?”
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e-nonsense · 10 days
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pairing. jason todd x reader
warnings. SMUT, use of pet names (doll, sweetheart), jealous reader, unprotected sex, semi public sex
prompts used.“Such a pretty girl, how can you not see that? Prettiest lady I’ve ever seen.” “Such a pretty girl, got an even prettier pussy.” from smut prompt list
a/n. just a lil blurb
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You couldn’t think anymore, your mind was empty of every that wasn’t him. Jason, oh Jason. The way his hands help your hips in a bruising grip with every little touch you gave him, more in warning than anything but you were too focused on the woman across the bar eyeing your man with lust.
“Sweetheart— doll.” He hissed into your ear as your hand sneakily palmed his growing erection through his pants. One of his hands slipped from your waist to hold your wrist in his big hand. You practically purr when he tilts your head to look at him, his green eyes glaring down at you before you press your lips against his and he groans, never being able to resist you.
“What’s gotten into you, hm?” He asks against your lips, following your glare over to the woman in the corner, eyeing him. Jason hadn’t even noticed her and he couldn’t help but snort at her boldness of staring straight at him while his girlfriend was right beside— on top of him.
“Oooh, you’re jealous.” He hums thoughtfully before stand up, lifting you along with him, “why don’t we ease your mind?” He smirks, pulling you along into one of the bathrooms.
The situation escalates from there, with you nearly tearing his shirt off to slide your hands down his torso, your nails scratching along. Your arms around his neck as he lifts you onto the counter, tongues down each other’s throats. When Jason’s hand slips under your dress he groans at the feeling of your wetness of his finger, pulling your panties to the side to dip a finger into your hole.
You let out a moan right into his ear when his finger is pushed in all the way, whining when he pulls it out.
“Think you can take me?” He asks, kissing your jaw as you nod, “words, doll.”
“Yes, yes.” You nod as he unbuckles his belt, letting his pants and boxers drop to the floor completely before you hear the sound of something ripping and the cold air of the dingy bathroom hitting your bare pussy.
He slides the head of his cock around your wetness, gathering it up so he can slide into you easier. A few seconds later you moan out loudly when you feel him push into you, pausing when he he’s all the way into.
“Such a pretty girl, how can you not see that? Prettiest lady I’ve ever seen.” He whispers as he pulls out and thrusts back into, setting a pace the has your toes curling and body aching. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout anyone else, doll.”
The sound of his rich Gotham accent fills your ears just as your moaning and panting fills his. “I’m yours,” he assure you before his hand slides down to press his thumb against your clit.
He pulls his head back to look down at where the two of you are connecting, a low moan leaving his throat at the sight of your wetness and juices lathered all over his cock. He feels your walls flutter around him, tightening to a point he thought wasn’t possible.
“Such a pretty girl, got an even prettier pussy.”
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© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off
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486 notes · View notes
cynnkk · 17 days
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mammon. oh mammon.
since he's competing w/ all the other devils for your attention, he decided to be owned by you, not the other way around.
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He opened up and admitted that he fell in love with you at first sight. if you remember, you were resting on his chest when you woke up in the hospital and he spent all that time thinking about how wonderful, breathtaking and powerful you were and what it would feel like for you to own him, for him to belong TO you.
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He would be solely and exclusively devoted to you and to your well-being. Mind you, he's not a low level demon: he's the king of Tartaros, the wealthiest kingdom in Hell and everything belongs to him but, as his master, everything will belong to you as well.
The whole thing is new to the both of you but he's resolute: he likes you "just because", not because you're solomon's descendant but because you are you.
You'll come around someday and love him like he loves you. He wants you to surrender to your greed, to take everything from him and he'll accept everything you have to offer: from lovely dates along the tartaros river to long fucking sessions on his throne, he would lap it all up, like the good sub he was always meant to be.
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in a world where you are seen as somebody else's stand-in, he's the one asking you to recognise him.
You're his master after all, no one can replace you.
He's yours. you just have to accept it as a fact, because he's not letting you go.
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arabaka · 11 months
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˚₊· ÍŸÍŸÍžÍžâžłâ„ miguel x spidey!fem!reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ !!! NO SPOILERS !!!! splashes of angst. unprotected sex. creampie. cervix fucking. WORD COUNT: 1.8K PSD CREDIT!!! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI !!!!!!! ꐊê‰șωê‰ș)぀ @miguelism @pompomegranate come get ya mans !!!!! PART TWO HERE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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You can still see him here.
It’s not real and it never will be– not again, anyways.
“March 13th.” 
How long are you going to keep doing this? Your jaw tenses. Here we go again.
The argument is a solo act; there’s no one to talk to here but you. So naturally, you run the same trite script until it comes to the same inevitable conclusion: giving in to the self-indulgence.
The bad thing’s already happened. You lost Miguel– well, more like he lost you. You’re the one trapped in this purgatorial vortex. The space that lies between every what if, the border of every possibility.
And it’s so fucking lonely.
So it’s ironic that your multiverse jumping wristband is good for anything but its intended use. It mocks you, its amber projections burning red when you even so much as try to go home. Not to your original timeline– to HQ.
To him.
But you know that will never happen so you make do with what you have: the memories stored on your gadget, the device looking worse for wear with jagged claw marks running down its sides, disappearing into the scarred flesh that lies beneath it. 
He didn’t mean to hurt you. You know that.
You wish you could tell him.
You (metaphorically) furiously fan away that cloud of remembrance. You’re already stuck, no need to dwell on the last time your heart was ripped out. You lie back, resting against nothing but floating amongst everything. Limbo sure is weird.
Arm resting over your stomach, you train your eyes on the happier time playing out from the screen on your wrist. It’s not perfect; the vision cracks, sometimes glitches in reds and greens before going back to normal. It’s getting worse. 
There you go again! We’re trying to have a good time here. 
Right. Right.
Sorry.
Focus.
You take a deep breath, chest rising and falling steadily.
Focus.
You close your eyes and when you reopen them, fix them on the screen that shows you strutting in Miguel’s domain, it’s like you’re there.
It’s like you’re back home.
“You gotta eat, you know.” Tossing a paper bag way up high, it doesn’t surprise you that he catches it with lightning fast reflexes, even with his back turned to you. “And if you don’t, I’ll make ‘em take empanadas off the menu.” 
He’s still. Only sound coming from him is the rustling of the bag. At least there’s that, you think as you approach the floating platform. “Don’t make me come up there!” You holler, though you only get your own echo in return. 
Shit. He’s in a mood.
Throat flexing with a thick swallow, you decide to go up anyways– you sure don’t want to wait for him to come to you. Thing’s slow as hell.  
Webs whipping from your wrist, you fashion a slingshot apparatus to propel you yards into the air. Nothing beats the rush of a flight, even now as you descend into what could be a particularly thorny situation with a particularly grumpy man. 
But he’s your particularly grumpy man. 
“Hey,” Your voice starts softly, “Everything–”
He turns around, stopping you in the middle of what was going to be your magnum opus of pep talks to show he’s got a mouthful of doughy goodness that keeps him from talking. And when he swallows, there’s a damn smirk waiting for you to kiss.
You don’t fall for it, at least not now but god do you want to. But first

“Asshole!” 
“You just jumped to conclusions.” Another bite of the savory empanada just to tick you off. You’re so cute when you’re annoyed, even if it’s all in good fun. Your cheeks puff up and your nose scrunches when your eyebrows furrow. He’ll kiss you if you won’t.
“Oh, real mature. Hiding behind–” 
In a flash, the empanada goes back in the bag and in red glowing binds gets fastened to the side of his computer mainframe, freeing up his hands to pull you close. A little too roughly, but you melt into his big frame regardless, lips pursing against his and giggling when you can taste meat and spice.
“How romantic.” You mutter and he laughs.
God, his laugh. Nobody heard it too often– nobody but you, that is.
When Miguel was with you, it’s as if you two were in a world of your own. A timeline of your own. Where past transgressions and terrible happenings were nonexistent. Where he could be him, the man he was supposed to be: sweet, charming, and kind. And where you could love him like he deserved.
Is someone else filling that role now? 
Great! You’re thinking too much again. Stop fucking this up!
“June 27th!” You blurt, warped back to reality when your thoughts strayed too far from the projection. 
The picture’s changed now. You’re home, your residence littered with reminders of Miguel. It’s empty, but not for long. The front door slams open and you and Miguel come pouring in, him taking the lead as the two of you blindly navigate the foyer with your lips locked and hands gripping each other for dear life.
Your cheeks in real time burn. Maybe you shouldn’t stay for this memory.
Oh, don’t be such a prude. It’s literally you! The little voice in your head chastises and honestly
 You can’t argue with that.
“M-Miguel, I don’t– I don’t have– I’m not on–”
“Shut up.” A tempered hiss is pressed to your lips, thick digits coming to frame your face as he pushes you further into the space you’ve come to share together. “Or I’ll change my mind about filling you up.”
You can’t argue with that.
“Say it.” His growling crests your ears, breath hot and fangs out just moments later when his pelvis is flush against yours, cock buried to the base in your sopping wet pussy. You swear he’ll drip drool on you at this point, the man driven to the brink of his sanity by the way your cunt hugs him so tight. It’s like you want to milk him for all he’s worth. 
Your hands paw helplessly at his chest, all your energy zapped as your eyes roll back under the curtain of fluttering fluffy eyelashes. “F-Fuck Miguel– f-fill me up!” 
“Keep going.” His voice is low, rich and dark.
The fat head of his cock presses up against your sensitive bundle of clitoral nerves, slamming hard when you whimper and cry for him, “Right there, right there!” You start to babble, the words freely flowing from your kiss-bruised lips because your brain is long gone, “F-Fuck me, need your cum– need you, need you, Miguel! Please don’t stop, please!” 
“Yeah? Can’t feel whole without my cock? Need it?” His tone seeped in pride, he loves seeing you unravel for him like this. “I’m givin’ it to you baby, right where you need it. You feel that? Your little pussy crying for me, so fucking wet. Fuck, you’re so good. Good for me.” He’s kissing you now, sloppy and panting into your mouth before his tongue ravishes yours and swallows every moan you give him.
Your legs locked around his waist still bounce, hips raised off the bed by Miguel’s brutish clutch so he can bully more of himself into you, harder and faster. Your lower body limply follows his every move, takes every slam and thrust all the while wet squelches fill the room. Your vision finally coming back, you see his nostrils flare and his eyes glazed over with a beastly kind of lust. It’s enough to make your bones shiver.
You can’t help but let your gaze rest there, even as he fucks you within an inch of your life, always so fervent with his thrusting as he stuffs you full, but you just can’t get over this view: his pectoral muscles flexing when you tighten up around him in just the right way, the way sweat gathers on his brow before trickling down his sharp jawline, and the way his lips stay agape because if he’s not groaning, he’s growling.
“That’s it, mi vida. Doin’ so good. Pussy takin’ me all the way in. Shit– I’m addicted. Might just fuck you raw every time. Want that?” One hand comes to your face, thumb just barely squishing your cheek and making you pout. “Say it.” 
“Y-Yes, yes! Please Miguel!” Tear drops glimmering in the corners of your eyes, you plead for him, “C-Cum inside me, I’m getting close!” Every sense of yours is on fire, everything burning bright for him and only him. Always for him.
And you see a similar inferno explode in his narrowed eyes just then and it’s immediate, the way he unhooks your legs from his waist and bends them aaaalllllll the way back until your knees are violently knocking against the mattress, his lumbering body taking yours in the mating press he so adores.
Because he gets to fill you to the brim. Bump and grind against your cervix until even that soft nodule is his. He’s staking his claim, making you his as the soles of his feet dig deep into the sheets, his toned limbs caging your bouncing body until you’re nothing but a squealing little mess for him to clean up.
His balls slap firmly and roughly against your folds, sticky webs of cum starting and breaking each time he snaps his hips. Your walls tremble around him, gushing out more of your essence every time. You’re just about undone. He can feel it.
But so is he, his already thick cock pulsating with another rush of blood as the coil in his stomach heats up. He puts all his weight into you, onto you the last couple thrusts – he knows you can take it – so he can kiss you. So he can taste you.
“‘M cumming, c-cumming
” Your words are muffled and tired, eyes wheeling back as your orgasm hits you hard and heavy, Miguel following soon after with plenty of cum to fill your pretty pussy up with and an animalistic series of grunts as his cock twitches and throbs inside you. It’s thick and so much, too much so that the opaque matter starts to pool out when his hard shaft finally leaves you, giving your featherlight folds another heaping layer of viscosity.
“‘Tch– it’s comin’ out already.” He huffs, though with a bit of a laugh. “Can’t have that.” So his fingers gather what’s remaining and slip into your cunt before he pops another kiss to your parted lips, nipping just a teeny bit on the bottom half to get you to squeal one last time for him.
And that’s how the video ends. That’s how you finish, having followed along with lithe fingers rubbing your aching clit and one or two at any time plunged and crooked inside you, but it’s not the same. 
It’ll never be the same.
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ventismacchiato · 1 year
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mr. oblivious
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The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Kuni, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.
scaramouche x g!n reader
established relationship, married, modern teacher au
2.7k words
a/n: sorry if it clogs up ur feed 😭 everytime i do the keep reading thing it crashes for me so, transferred from ao3 so if there’s any weird typos lmk
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It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.
You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.
So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.
It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Timmie wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.
Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.
Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.
You brought it up to Kuni during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Kuni didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.
You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Kuni, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Venti, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Kuni sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Kuni never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.
“So, what’s your secret?” Venti sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so stoic Kuni to talk to you for longer than a minute?”
“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”
Venti and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.
“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Venti dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”
“Ooh, are we talking about KuniYn?” Lisa grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.
“What the hell is KuniYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Kuni? Was this their way of welcoming you?
“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.
And to your horror, a little splash of his coffee landed on the other male.
A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Bennett spilled his drink on Kuni the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.
“Careful,” Kuni mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.
“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Kuni and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”
“It’s fine,” Kuni assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.
You made sure to pointedly ignore Venti and Lisa’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.
______ Ś‚Ś‚à«ąàŒ‹àŒ˜àż
Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.
You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Kuni’s name spoken for the nth time that day.
“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Kuni’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Luo insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”
“Like-like?” Qiqi drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“
“We should make them be a couple!” Klee giggled, clapping her hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Kuni is too strict for them but it’s okay.”
So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Kuni were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Kuni really not mentioned being married even once?
Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Kuni really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.
“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”
“Or boyfriends,” Klee giggled behind her hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted her on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.
______ Ś‚Ś‚à«ąàŒ‹àŒ˜àż
“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Kuni’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Venti rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hutao.
“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Hutao huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”
“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Xingqiu, the school’s librarian, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Kuni out on Valentine’s!”
“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.
“Clumsy as always,” Kuni murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Venti who was stifling a laugh.
“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Xiangling defended, hands on her hips.
“Lunch,” Kuni dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”
The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”
Kuni hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.
The moment he left all hell broke loose.
“SEE! I knew Kuni would make a move!”
“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"
“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”
You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Kuni’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.
______ Ś‚Ś‚à«ąàŒ‹àŒ˜àż
“Kuni?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.
Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.
“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Kuni, leaning back into it as Kuni gestured to his half finished take out box.
“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kuni work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.
“A crush?” Kuni repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”
“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”
“It never came up,” Kuni mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the brats were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”
“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Kuni to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.
“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Kuni shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.
“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.
Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Kuni’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.
The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.
Kazuha was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Kuni’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Kuni to groan and sadly flip through it.
“So how long have you two been together?” Kazuha drawled, leaning forward as Kuni shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Kuni actually sort of talked to, it seems even Kazuha hadn’t known of their relationship status.
“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Kazuha as he nodded, turning to make his leave.
“I’m so winning this bet–”
“What bet? KAZUHA GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”
______ Ś‚Ś‚à«ąàŒ‹àŒ˜àż
Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.
At least it looked pretty.
“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”
“Venti, they are children,” Kazuha mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.
“As their other music teacher you should add it into the curriculum,” Venti huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”
“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Xingqiu pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.
“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Xingqiu mused.
“Coward,” Lisa reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”
“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.
“Hold up, you’re married?!” Venti shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”
“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”
“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Xiangling cried out, covering her mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”
“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”
Kazuha snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.
“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Xiangling scoffed, hitting Kazuha on the shoulder as he cackled.
“Pay up,” Kazuha grinned as you shook your head.
“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.
“Yikes, I told Kuni I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Lisa admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.
Kuni stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.
“Thank you for the basket, Kuni,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on pda, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Kuni’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.
Kuni merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet, you felt a little bad about putting him on the spot but you wanted to show off your husband for once!
“Pause,” Venti stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”
“I just lost so much money,” Lisa groaned, sucking her teeth and already pulling out her wallet as Kazuha gleefully counted his bills.
“I’m still processing,” Xingqiu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”
“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Kuni grew up,” you answered, firmly grasping Kuni’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.
“I owe Kazuha money?” Albedo questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”
“Suck my dick,” Kazuha grinned, opening his palm as Albedo sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.
“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Kuni complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you was pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”
“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Venti giggled, dodging the box of candy Kuni picked up and tossed at him.
“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Kuni countered.
“The audacity,” Albedo murmured as Venti huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.
“Guess we need a new project,” Venti grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Kazuha, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”
“You’re gonna what?!” Kazuha exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates
You laughed as you watched Kazuha practically run away from Venti, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.
Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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i23kazu · 7 months
Text
neuvillette, who watches you argue that you're not tired... yeah, right. your eyes say everything – and you most definitely are slee- nope. wide awake. definitely. just go to sleep, my dear; he says, shaking his head with a soft smile on his face. but i'm not tired! you reply indignantly, and your lover is chuckling, seeing you react just like a child. it is only when you finally fall asleep on his shoulder that he sighs out of relief, and that he's able to carry you to bed and drift into a sweet slumber next to you. yeah, right – you're not tired at all.
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saleeba · 6 months
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fool ; jude bellingham
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summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.
pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader
content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)
a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but firstâ˜đŸœalexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy đŸ«¶đŸœđŸ’— WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again 
 im sorry for any mistakes :’)
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you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.
on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 
it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.
it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.
instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?
no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.
with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 
a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.
jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)
jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❀❀
he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts
 the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 
you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.
you: can’t wait to see you too! ❀
you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.
***
and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 
as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.
“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.
“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 
“nah, you’re just in time because
 first round’s on mister madrid!”
the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.
“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”
you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh
 uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.
he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.
“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”
jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.
“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know
 a lot.” 
this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 
you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh
”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.
“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude
 a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 
upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.
***
not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.
“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.
the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 
“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”
he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.
“i’m sorry, i just
” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.
instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.
his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 
it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 
you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.
you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 
your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.
you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 
the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.
the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.
***
you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 
you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.
running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.
a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 
trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 
“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”
your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n
 sorry, can i come in?”
you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 
“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late
” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.
you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 
“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”
you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.
“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time
 god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 
jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.
he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.
“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner
 i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 
“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.
jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.
he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.
“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.
he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 
once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 
“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.
“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 
he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.
jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 
you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 
“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 
his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 
“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 
jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 
“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”
the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 
“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”
jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.
“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 
jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.
a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.
“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.
you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.
“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 
“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.
a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  
he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 
the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.
after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.
“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.
“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.
“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just
” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 
you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.
you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.
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960 notes · View notes
toruro · 1 year
Text
— ✧ to the brim
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pairing. kim mingyu x reader
description. all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?
↳ tags. smut (18+), breeding kink, husband!mingyu, filthy honestly
w/c. 2.9k
a/n. request .. i couldnt hold back
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you shut your eyes tight, squirming against the soft linen sheets as your husband holds you down. mingyu’s thick, strong arm latches onto your hips, pushing them back down whenever you dig your heels into the mattress and lift them up.
his tongue is lapping at your cunt, the lower half of his face slowly turning into a slobbering, dripping mess. “gyu,” you cry out, as he brings up a single finger and plunges it into your gummy walls, rubbing against them relentlessly and moves his mouth to your clit.
this is mingyu’s treat, as he put it five minutes earlier when you rolled on top of him this morning. you’d spent a few peaceful minutes laying on his sheet as he stroked his fingers through your hair as you drowsily murmured something about enjoying this weekend. of course, mingyu being the loving, caring, giving husband that he is, he offered to go down on you to make sure your day started off a little extra sweet.
now, as mingyu promised, you’re on the verge of your likely first of many orgasms for the next two days, nearly having to grab a pillow to cover your mouth so you don’t get a noise complaint from your neighbors.
reaching down to pull his hair, mingyu moans against your core when you tug at the thick brown locks, the vibrations building up that knot that he’s been so carefully tying. he’s looking you right in the eyes and the way his eyelids are half closed, almost as if he’s enjoying this as much as you (he probably is), has that knot being pulled so tight that you can’t help but let tears prick at corner of your eyes when it finally snaps.
mingyu fucks his fingers into you so fast it has you seeing stars as you ride out your orgasm, his demanding grip on your waist finally being release so you can swivel your hips to meet the movements of his hands. coming down with cries of his name and heavy pants, mingyu finally frees your overstimulated cunt of his ministrations, not breaking his gaze on you.
“you liked that?” he asks jokingly, peeling himself away from your wet thighs, glistening chin on display under the morning glow. rolling your eyes as you finally catch your breath, you let your hiked up knees fall to the bed as mingyu crawls up to you, pressing a messy kiss on your lips.
wincing slightly at the feeling of your own wetness against your cheeks, you push his face away gently. “of course i liked that,” you mumble, face burning.
mingyu chuckles, rolling over and laying in his back next to you, legs intertwined with yours. “just making sure angel,” he replies, bringing up a finger to wipe away some of the wetness from his lips, watching you as you shimmy your panties back on. he pouts when he realizes you’re getting up, fisting and unfisting his hand as he reaches out for you in a grabbing motion. “want more, angel.”
you consider going along with whatever plans mingyu has, and although you are quite turned on, you also feel the need to be a little productive. “i thought this was my treat, was it not?” you retort, swinging your legs over the bed and standing up, making your way out the door.
mingyu huffs at your response, “you’re lame,” throwing his head back. he kicks his legs around in the bed with a faux tantrum, rolling over to your side—he insists it’s warmer—and reaches for your phone. “hey babe, what’s your password again?” he calls out to you in a teasing tone when you’re at the bedroom door.
“mingyu there’s no way you just asked me that,” you sigh, knowing where this is going. he looks up at you with a smug grin as he holds your phone in the air.
“i know,” he says smugly, ”i just want to hear you say it.”
warmth permeates your body at his honesty, and you ears burn as you turn away, embarrassed. “it’s your birthday
”
“aww, really?” he coos as if you haven’t repeated this a million times.
“yes babe,” you mumble, walking out the door. “don’t milk it, or i’ll change it.”
mingyu gasps from the bed. “you would never,” he yells in disbelief.
“would so!” you yell back, grinning to yourself knowing that it’s a damn lie. “what are you doing on my phone anyways?” you ask curiously from the kitchen.
“‘m checking your calendar,” he replies, and from the open door you can see him scrolling through what you can only assume is your period app. you, once again, have an idea of where this is going to go, except this time you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to control yourself—not with the way you instinctively press your thighs together as you remember that it’s that time of month.
no, not that time of month—the other time of month.
you don’t even have time to think about what you’re going to make for breakfast because mingyu is thudding down the hallway and circling his large hand around your wrist and dragging you back to the bedroom. you can’t even find it in you to protest at this point, the familiar pooling of heat at the base of your stomach reinforcing the fact that you want—no, need—this as much as him.
you stumble over your steps but mingyu’s grip on you is tight and steady and before you know it he has you in the air and thrown onto the mattress. “you’re already prepped right angel?” mingyu confirms as he pushes his boxers down before clambering on top of you, resting himself between your legs.
“i dunno,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him down into a fierce kiss. “you kind of did eat me out like five minutes ago, did you forget?”
“how could i?” mingyu grins, tugging at the hem of your (his) shirt as a signal to take it off. “you look so hot when you cum,” he adds, “wish i could take a picture and make it my wallpaper or something.” he yanks down your soiled panties once more, making it a personal goal for himself to make sure you don’t get the chance to put them back on this morning.
“you already have pictures,” you remind him, slipping off mingyu’s shirt from your body, falling back onto the sheets as he stares down at you, his painfully hard length pressing into your thigh.
“yeah but they aren’t my wallpaper,” mingyu whines, flicking your clit once and chuckling at the way your body jerks.
“maybe because i don’t want—i don’t know—dokyeom to see me naked every time you open your phone.”
“ugh, you’re right—i hate sharing,” he agrees, nudging his tip against your folds. “you ready angel?”
"uh-huh," you murmur, lifting your hips slightly so he can line himself up with your hole. his bulbous tip hardly pushes in an inch before you're whining out his name and pushing the side of your face into the mattress from the stretch.
not even years with mingyu can prepare you for the way his cock is always so thick and long—the initial stretch is always a challenge, but the sensation of being split in two by your one and only husband has become one that you cherish.
"fuck," mingyu grunts, letting his had fall to your shoulder as he eases his cock into your cunt. "you're fucking sucking me in babe," he continues as he finally bottoms out. pressing kissing onto your skin, you dig your nails into mingyu's back as he allows you to adjust.
when you start to involuntarily rock your hips into his, mingyu takes this as his chance to take control, pressing his arms into your pelvis to still your movements. looking up at him with confusion, his only response is a smirk as he roughly snaps his hips back, the harsh drag of his cock making your vision go hazy and your mind go dizzy. without warning, he ruts back into you, and he feels so close that you nearly feel his cock pulsing inside of your cunt.
the sound of your soaked pussy and mingyu's cock colliding echos through the room, a wet puddle forming beneath the area you connect. your body shakes on the mattress with every thrust, his hips sending you in a back and forth motion as you reach for his hand to stabilize yourself.
"fuck, how are you always this tight?" he moans, slick from your cunt running down his thigh as he angles himself higher above you.
"f-feels so good gyu," you manage to gasp, your legs weakening, their grip on his hips growing loose. "baby, your shoulders—fuck—ca-can you—can i—" you beg incandescently, not making much sense but it seems mingyu understands the message as he slows down his movements.
"god yes." grabbing your legs, he pushes them up so that your knees are pressing against your chest. you secure them in their spot by wrapping your hands under your knees, but the position doesn't last for long before mingyu throws each leg over his shoulder so your ankles touch behind his neck. mingyu latches his arms over your legs that are now pressed against his chest, before pulling his hips back and ramming back into you.
the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears and with every batter of his cock against that one spot in your cunt, you feel closer and closer to white, hot release. you grapple at the sheets around you, not being able to hold your husband's hands, and squirm at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you.
"you close gyu? 'm close," you moan.
"yeah—shit—i can tell babe, you're squeezing me so tight, so good. gonna milk me dry angel?" he grunts, pressing down further so you're nearly bent in half.
"i wanna," you babble mindlessly, "wanna cum with you—wanna have your cum gyu—"
even in your hazy state, you catch the way mingyu's eyes darken at your words. "fuck say that again," he orders.
"want your cum!" you cry out, feeling the hot coil in your stomach grow close to it's end. "fill me up gyu, 'm so close, 'm ready—please, please, please, gimme your cum gyu, please." your words are going through mingyu's ears and straight down to his cock and then he's slamming into you so hard you think you might fall off the face of the earth.
"fucking perfect pussy, 'm gonna fill you up, fill you up so good your tummy's gonna be all swollen with my baby," mingyu moans with thick spurts of his seed shooting through you, marking your cunt as his. the feeling has your back arching off the mattress, legs shaking over his shoulders as you shriek his name. "you like that?"
"mingyu—shit! love it, love your cum, love you!" you whine as pleasure slams through your body, legs giving out from the tension so they fall by mingyu's side so he can continue fucking into you despite his own overstimulation.
he watches the way you twitch at every movement, looking down at the part when his cock kisses your pussy, adoring the way he's able to fuck all his dripping seed back into you, muttering to himself about how he's gotta "make sure you don't waste a drop."
within a few moments you're both intertwined as an overstimulated mess, mingyu finally stilling inside of you as you pant for breath. "think it worked?" he murmurs, and you lift your head to look down at your core.
"it'd better," you reply, letting mingyu lean down to kiss you. then, against his lips, you continue, "we fucked up the sheets for this." you shift a little and then you feel the cool wet spot that has formed, cringing at how you already have to change the sheets.
"mm, we can just make use of the space
you know, since it's already so messy," mingyu suggest, pulling away from your lips and now that he's not kissing you, you're hyper aware of the way he's growing hard inside of you.
"mingyu—"
"c'mon angel, you know you want to. need to see you brimming with my cum," he eggs you on, grabbing your waist and turning you over on your stomach while he's still inside of you. you feel the stretch from inside of your pussy return, and mingyu's words are doing nothing but filthy things to you because you feel yourself growing warmer at the thought of his cum seeping out of you.
"please," you squeak out when he forcefully yanks your hips up so your ass is in the air, lined up with mingyu's pelvis.
"so needy," mingyu chuckles, pulling his length out halfway, placing a hand on your ass to steady himself. your whole core is covered in wetness, a mix of his saliva from earlier when he went down on you, his cum, and your own wetness. the sticky mixture coats both of your bodies now, and mingyu can't help but spiral at the idea that after this, you're going to be filled with even more of his cum.
he snaps his hips so his cock slamming back into you with such sheer force that you lurch forward, the only thing holding you in your spot being mingyu's grip on your lower half. "bet you wanted this—fuck—" he mutters out, each word punctuated with increasingly sharp thrusts, "—from the moment you woke up. wanted to be fucked raw. wanted me to dump my cum inside of your perfect fucking pussy."
"yes!" you agree without a thought to your head, arms giving out so your face is pressing into the mattress now. your moans are a bit muffled and mingyu is slightly annoyed that he can't hear you to your fullest, releasing his irritation by plunging his cock into your gaping cunt harder and harder, which has you crying out louder and louder.
"holy fuck, you're so tight—are you gonna cum already?" mingyu groans as you arch your back and push your ass back to meet his thrusts, chasing your third orgasm of the day.
"s-sorry gyu—it feels s-so so good," you blabber, tears springing at your eyes as a sob rips at your throat. you're so close already, your core squeezing and twitching uncontrollably at the immense stimulation and pleasure that's coming over you. you're tethering on to whatever last bit of self control you have as mingyu abuses your warm, wet walls with his cock.
"don't apologize angel," mingyu reminds you, but it's hard to believe him when his voice sounds so strained. you can tell he's refraining, holding himself back from letting loose and now you're mind is going blank at the thought of mingyu cumming inside you as tears begin to streak down your cheeks.
"oh my god, mingyu, 'm getting close," you warn, body growing limp as your thighs begin to cramp.
"fuck, my precious angel gonna cum on my cock? gonna make a mess?"
"yes, love your cock mingyu, love it, need it," you plead. "can i have your cum? wan' more of your cum gyu—feels so good." your vocabulary is reducing to that of a five-year olds (save for the repeated begging for mingyu's seed) and you can't help but hiccup over yourself.
"wan' my cum? fuck, i'll give you my cum—breeding you like the good fucking girl you are," mingyu spits out, jamming his cock into you with sloppy but determined thrusts. they're erratic and mindless but it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cum for the third time this morning.
muffling your cries with the sheets underneath you, the way you're bawling out his name and pleading, "fill me up gyu, do it deep," has him letting go of all notions of self control.
he's cumming inside of you once more with one last thrust, murmuring, "gonna fuck a baby into you—you want that? wanna have my babies, angel?"
"yes gyu—fuck!" you moan at the feeling of his load being squirted inside of you, the hot ropes of cum seeming endless as the sensation helps you ride out the last of your orgasm.
"fuck, i've filled you to the brim," mingyu groans, looking down at the way his and your liquids cream the base of his cock and balls, the mess dripping down onto the linen. "what a mess," he mumbles to himself, more satisfied with himself than anything.
you're still slightly shaking, the past three orgasms fully catching up to you with a harsh wave of exhaustion that has your body falling forward flat onto the mattress, mingyu slipping out of you in the process. you let out a soft groan at the feeling of being empty, but have no time to dwell on the thought as mingyu flips you over again so you're lying on your back.
you're able to see the look on his face now, finally facing him, and the way his eyes sparkle down at you has your stomach tumbling in adoration. "i love you," mingyu states, eyes trailing down from your face back down to your cunt.
"i love you too," you chuckle before saying, "my eyes are up here lover boy." mingyu rolls his eyes, but doesn't peel his eyes away. "take a picture babe, it'll last longer." mingyu's eyes shoot up at that.
"can i?"
"only if you send it to me too."
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a/n. hope you enjoyed! please like and reblog and let me know how u liked this c:
7K notes · View notes
plutoccult · 26 days
Text
HOW CAN I SNOOZE AND MISS THE MOMENT? YOU JUST TOO IMPORTANT
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pairing: kei tsukishima x gender neutral reader
description: even after a long and frustrating day at work, you can’t help but fight to stay up with your favorite person on earth.
word count: 1.6k
also available to read on my ao3 here
author’s note: i wrote this because i hated my job at the time (i have since quit and found a job that pays me way more), and this idea spurred after a draining day at work. i debated on who to write it for, but ironically the #1 tsukishima anti (/j) @heavenfilm suggested i write it for tsukishima. i mean, since no. 1 party anthem was so successful, it makes sense for me to write for him once more. plus, the fandom is probably bumping again thanks to the new movie. i know this is short, but don’t most people want that? anyway, i hope you enjoy!
tags: @solefleurs @heavenfilm @mayariviolet @dragon-slayer5 @darthferbert @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten @intheewrld @localgaytrainwreck @rasisarchive
taglist form here
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the second you walked through the door and slammed it shut behind you, you wanted to fall to the floor and rot there. it was incredibly overdramatic, you were well aware of that, but you felt such theatrics were more than valid after the hellish day you had at work.
your job was easy for the most part. while you knew you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life working there, you at least wanted it to be somewhat tolerable. sometimes you dealt with annoying customers, treating you as if you were an idiot despite knowing the policies like the back of your hand. but today wasn’t one of those days where you put up with some snotty karen, funnily enough. the villain of your work day happened to be your manager.
when things are going their way, they’re the coolest person in the world. but whenever there was the most minuscule inconvenience, it turned into everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t stand it. it was like playing survival mode on the hardest level. many a time were you tempted to put your foot down and quit, but you were too afraid of being jobless for too long and leaving your boyfriend to pay all the bills. it didn’t help that applying for jobs was such a pain in the ass either.
after a long day at work, you scrunch your face in frustration then let out a long sigh, sliding your back against the door as you found comfort sitting on the carpet. too lazy to do anything else, even kick off your shoes, you sit there for a few moments with your eyes closed. it was the most relaxing moment you’ve had all day, but that title would soon be taken over once your boyfriend tsukishima emerged from your shared bedroom, having heard you come through the door just moments ago.
“y/n?” he pattered down the hall, finding you in your current position. “why are you on the floor?”
you open your eyes and see tsukishima’s face. it was hard to read him most times when you first met, but you had learned him inside and out, down to the way he let out a sigh once agreeing to something he didn’t really want to do. the sight of him just standing there, looking down at you with his head slightly tilted brought you utter joy. his face was the one thing you always looked forward to see after days like these.
“hi, my love.” you say. “it’s been a long day
”
“your manager again?” tsukishima asked. he knew you all too well.
“a pain as always.” you groan. it didn’t require any more detail than that for him to understand your struggle. days like these had been going on for a while, and it pained him to see you like this.
“well,” tsukishima offered his hand, you taking it immediately as he pulled you to your feet, bringing you close to him by wrapping an arm around your shoulder, all in such slick movements. “you should probably have some food then get to bed.”
you quickly shake your head in protest. you didn’t want to go to bed yet. you just got home. you wanted to spend time with him.
“go to bed? but i wanna stay up with you
” you pout.
while your puppy face was one of tsukishima’s weaknesses, he valued your wellbeing far too much than to be selfish and let you sacrifice time that could be spent resting.
“you need to rest.” he insisted.
“but—”
“you’ll fall over if you stand a second longer.” tsukishima interrupted you, gently running a hand through your hair, which almost lulled you to sleep on the spot despite your resistance. “i’ll bring you something to eat as long as you get to bed, okay?”
“okay
” you let out a sigh, looking down to the floor as you dragged your feet to your bedroom. you stop for a moment, your feet aching too much for you to bother taking another step.
“tsukki?” you turn around, tsukishima saying “hm?” as he anticipated your next words. “carry me?”
ah, of course. he couldn’t ever say no to that. “alright
”
tsukishima lifted you up with ease, a given considering he always stayed in tip-top shape throughout the years thanks to playing volleyball. as relaxing as it was to be in his arms, you fought like hell to stay awake, wanting to keep your eyes on that gorgeous face as long as humanly possible.
he placed you down on the bed, going as far as to take your shoes off your feet and set them aside. the constraint of your shoes were killing you all day, so you felt immediate relief upon their removal. you were thankful for tsukishima doing such things for you without you even having to ask. he truly understood you through and through, his love shown in his acts of service rather than words spoken.
“get comfy while i bring you a plate.” tsukishima placed a kiss on your cheek and ruffled your hair before leaving the room. you were tempted to get under those cozy blankets, but you knew it would only make you sleepy, and you couldn’t have that. you didn’t work all day just to fall asleep before you could spent more than just a moment with the one you love.
tsukishima found you yawning as you tried sitting up as straight as possible. he came in with a bowl of fettuccine alfredo, having made it earlier with you in mind, just freshly reheated for your enjoyment. but tsukishima couldn’t help but sigh at the display in front of him.
“didn’t i tell you to get comfy?” he rolled his eyes as he sat down on the bed next to you. “here. i’m sure you’re starving after a long day.”
“i’d start gnawing on your arm soon enough.” you joke and take the bowl from his hands. “but thank you.”
“i’d rather you didn’t.” tsukishima cringed at the thought. funnily enough, he thought that such a thing would affect his performance at games. he wasn’t the same as he was as a teenager, that’s for sure.
you’re too busy to even respond, inhaling your food like it was going out of style. sometimes you’re just too caught up at work to even think about taking a snack break. even if you did relax for once, someone was always bound to ask for your help because they either didn’t 1. have a clue on what to do or 2. feel like doing their job. you were truly stuck to a ball and chain because of these people.
once you finished the last bite, you didn’t have to say a thing as tsukishima took the bowl out of your hands, already thinking to wash the dishes for you later so you didn’t have to lift a finger. he placed the bowl down on the nightstand for a moment, grabbing the edge of your shared comforter, which you immediately took notice to.
“woah, woah, woah!” you exclaim and grab tsukishima’s wrist. “i’m not lying down!”
“you think just grabbing my wrist can stop me?” he snickered, harshly tugging the blanket like a magician pulling a tablecloth off the table while leaving the dishes unscathed. you plop over face first onto the bed as you try to scramble for the blanket, but fail miserably. tsukishima couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.
you roll onto your back and pout over his laughter. “what’s so funny?”
“i just don’t understand why you want to stay awake so bad. you’re clearly exhausted.” tsukishima said as he gently stroked your hair, almost trying to lull you to sleep. had he scratched a certain part of your head, you would’ve been a goner and he knew it.
“because i
” you sit up, continuing to resist your inevitable slumber. “i wanna spend more time just with you. you’re too important to me.”
“you’re important to me too.” he replied. “and if you weren’t, i wouldn’t care about your health.”
you can’t help but smile at his words. curse him for caring so much, you almost want to say, but how could you? it’s not like you’d rather he didn’t give a damn at all, you would never. but still, you can’t resist wanting to lay your eyes on him as long as you humanly could.
“ass.” you say, a giggle escaping your mouth with ease.
“butt.” tsukishima grinned, leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. his kiss felt like a spell to you, and you’d be pulled in each and every time.
as you lay down now, the only source of light being the lamp on the bedside table, you find yourself starting to succumb to the sleep you fought so hard to resist. tsukishima took notice, pulling the blanket over your body and reaching his hands to scratch your head. you fell asleep within seconds, just as he predicted.
tsukishima couldn’t be mad seeing you in this state. sure, he missed you like hell all day, but watching you now, looking so peaceful, tsukishima knew this was one of his favorite sights in the world. if he could sit here and just stare at you like this all day, he would do it instantly.
“i love you, y/n.” he said, gently caressing your cheek, hoping he wouldn’t wake you up. “i know i should say it out loud more often, but i hope you know that i do. there aren’t enough words to describe the feeling, but i love you.“
even if you didn’t hear tsukishima, you could still feel his love just from him sitting beside you. you feel it when you look at his face down to when you yap your mouth off while he just listens. you would never feel this with anyone else, and you would forever try to savor it.
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© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3
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spideystevie · 1 year
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💘 + hangman "sharing a bed. then making up more excuses to share a bed after that night just to wake up next to their roommate in the mornings." from the "and they were roommates!" list <3
thank you for your patience! mentions of alcohol but i think that’s it. i had a lot of fun with this one and i hope you like it <3 - [1.2k] | join the party!
It was a one off fluke. Well
it was supposed to be. It was going to be until you realized that there was something sweet in waking up next to your roommate in the morning. 
It didn’t have anything to do with the crush that had just rooted itself in your chest, at least that’s what you told yourself.
That first morning was sweet until you remembered why you were sharing a bed and a wave of embarrassment came over you like a tidal wave. 
You’d come home from a night out, absolutely plastered. In the haze of your memories, you can vaguely remember one of your friends using your phone to call Jake while you were out at the bar. He’d picked up on the first ring and you could hear his voice saying your name like a question over the phone.
“Is that Jake?” your words were slurred but your eyes were bright and shining. Your friend shushed you gently and readjusted your phone against their ear. You tried to grab for it and they turned away from you, keeping their free hand wrapped around your arm.
You can’t remember much of what was said in the conversation, only that your friend told him you needed a ride home and that Jake was already out the door. You squirmed in your friend’s grip, reaching for the phone again. “Lemme talk to ‘im.”
In a blink, your phone was back in your possession but the call had ended. You think you remember frowning at the screen when you noticed. 
“C’mon, he’s gonna be here soon,” your friend said, tugging you towards the entrance of the bar you were at. Sure enough, he’d arrived not even five minutes later. He looked a little tired, fighting off sleep while he waited up for you to come home. 
“Jake!” it came out in something close to a gasp, a great big smile lifting your cheeks. Your inhibitions were low as you stumbled towards him and all but collapsed against him, his arms coming around your waist to catch you. His t-shirt was soft against your cheek and you remember keeping your nose pressed against his chest for an almost embarrassingly long time because he smelled so good. 
He’d smiled and nodded at your friend in a quiet thanks before he led you to his car. You had held your breath while he buckled you in and tried to focus on one point on the horizon to wade off the nausea creeping up. Jake let you lean most of your weight against him as he helped you inside and to your room where you collapsed onto your bed. 
As soon as your head hit the mattress you felt a sleepiness take hold, your eyelids feeling heavier with each blink. You’d groaned when Jake made you go into the bathroom to change for bed and he’d helped you take your makeup off when you were too stubborn to do it yourself.
When you were all settled into bed, advil and water on your bedside table for the morning, he’d turned off your lamp and got up to leave. You feel a slight bit embarrassed when you recall asking him to stay with you before he could leave the room. You hadn’t really expected him to agree, but he did. 
You lift your head off the pillow and it immediately begins to throb, making your face scrunch up and your eyes squeeze closed. Through the building tension, you remember the water and pain relievers he’d set out for you on your nightstand. Your eyes peel open just enough for you to grab them and swallow the pills down with water. 
After setting the water back down, you look over at Jake sleeping in the spot next to you. He looks so serene, features completely relaxed and his face slightly smushed against your spare pillow. His hair’s a bit of a tousled mess from sleep and the sight of it makes you smile. 
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he mumbles, eyes still closed. His voice is deeper in the morning, this you already knew but hearing it immediately after he wakes up, in your bed no less, makes a thick, gooey warmth cloud your chest. You roll your eyes, though he can’t see it, fighting off the embarrassment tickling your nerves at having been caught staring at your sleeping roommate. 
“I didn’t think you’d stay,” you say after you’ve laid back down. His eyes blink open and he’s quiet for a minute. He holds your gaze for a minute, lets it wander across your face and then back to your eyes. He shrugs best he can, laying on his side. 
“You asked,” he says simply, like it’s obvious. You swallow and nod. He looks over your features once more, almost like he’s committing them to memory, and Jake realizes he likes having you to wake up next to. 
After that first morning, the two of you find almost any excuse you can to share a bed at night. 
You can’t sleep and knock on his door in the middle of the night, complaining of a minor nightmare. Jake puts his sheets in the wash and claims he doesn’t have a made bed to sleep in, despite the spare set of sheets in the closet. He hosts movie night in his room under the guise of the couch suddenly being too small. 
Slowly, over the course of many nights and phases of the moon, something in your dynamic shifts. He’s a lot more touchy with you, his fingers lingering against your skin. You get braver by kissing his cheek before you get out of bed the last few times. 
It’s an unspoken change, one neither of you really feel the need to address. That is, until excuse number fifteen—the storm outside might make you lose power and it’s better to just sleep in the same bed in case that happens—and he’s holding you in his bed.
The rain splashes against the windows, flashes of lightning lighting up the room as thunder cracks overhead. It’s quiet though in the comfort of his sheets. You can’t decide if you’re starting to prefer his mattress to yours. A hum of your name breaks you from your thoughts and you adjust your head to meet his eye. 
“I’ve been thinking,” he starts and you try to bite back a smirk. 
“That’s never good,” you muse. He laughs and shakes his head. 
“I’ve been thinking,” he restates. There’s the beginnings of a nervous blush creeping across his cheeks. “Maybe we should do this
permanently.”
You blink at him, eyes a little wide. “This, like, sharing a bed this?”
He nods and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen your roommate so nervous. You start to smile. You make him nervous. The thought makes you feel giddy inside. 
“Yeah. Okay,” you agree and you can feel him physically relax against you. “Now you can stop lying about not having sheets on your bed or the couch being too small.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face and a laugh bubbling past his lips. He’s just glad he gets to wake up to you every morning now on purpose.
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promisingyounglady · 1 month
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stranger. | BB x Reader
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SYNOPSIS: drunk hookup, no names exchanged, bradley is a pussy eating king.
PAIRING: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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You pant, breathing heavily
“W-What’s your name again?”
A head pops up from in between your legs, giving you a sight that makes you delirious from the sheer sexiness of it all.
He’s golden, the warm light from the bedside table lamp, casting a glow on his pink cheeks. Dog tags hang from his collar bones.
He’s got pretty eyes, a strong nose and a shit-eating grin covered by a mustache that’s dripping in your slick.
You hadn’t even had time to even exchange names, only knowing that you were mutual friends of Jake who met at tonight’s party. One too many shots later and you’re here getting eaten out by a fighter pilot you don’t even know the name of.
He comes forward, leaning into your breath as he mutters softly. “Bradley. Bradshaw.”
You moan, feeling how his hands slide up your body as he utters his name, embarrassingly squirming under his touch.
“Say it back” He requests, deep brown eyes gazing into yours.
You oblige, moaning his name in a breathless whisper.
“Bradley”
He smiles, kissing you to shut you up before he goes down back in between your legs, pecks littered against the flesh of your inner thighs.
“Say my name and then ask me to eat you out”
You almost can’t believe your ears. You look down, gripping the sheets as you stare the smug bastard down.
“Nicely” he adds, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit as he smirks.
You throw your head back, eyes shutting as you mumble embarrassingly. “Eat me bradley”
His hands roam to your tits, giving them a squeeze
“Louder” he replies, muffled as he’s concentrated in stuffing his face in your vagina, choosing to give small unsatisfying licks until you say it properly.
You cry out, chest rising. “Eat me out, Bradley” you grit, moaning when he finally swipes his nose along your pussy, giving you what you want.
“I don’t like you.” you huff, glaring at the head of hair you’re running your hands through.
You feel him smile against your mound, coming up to snarkily change the topic.
“What’s your name?”
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e-nonsense · 10 days
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─── 𝘭đ˜Șđ˜”đ˜”đ˜­đ˜Š đ˜±đ˜łđ˜Șđ˜Żđ˜€đ˜Š đ˜ąđ˜Żđ˜„ đ˜±đ˜łđ˜Šđ˜”đ˜”đ˜ș 𝘾đ˜Șđ˜”đ˜€đ˜©
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pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader
summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares
warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?
a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more
wc. 1.1k not proofread
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Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.
After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.
“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.
“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.
You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”
“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.
“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.
“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.
“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.
“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.
It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.
Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.
It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.
The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.
He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.
The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.
“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.
Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.
The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.
“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.
“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.
“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.
“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”
You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”
“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you
. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.
“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”
Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.
“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”
You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.
“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.
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© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off
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