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#I feel like I wouldn’t be here right now if not for this dumb little guy
chososdiscordkitten · 3 months
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MDNI
Pt 1 here
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader Content: no use of y/n, SOME plot, read pt 1 for context, BREEDING KINK, PREGNANCY and BABY TRAPPING, unestablished relationship, reader has an iud that Gojo is NOT a fan of, manipulating, reader is a lil dumb lol, talk of birth control and hiding it, creampies 24/7, mentions of NURSING and BRESTFEEDING, 'wife' used like twice Word count: 3.3k
(a.n) I kept getting asked for pt 2 so here it is. more plot, not so much smut this time lol
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It had been 3 months since Gojo came to the conclusion that pregnancy was the solution to his fear of you finding someone else. Seeing you come out of the bathroom, a bath towel wrapped around you as small droplets fell from your neck.
Looking at you bewildered as though this was the greatest disappointment he had ever felt. You were talking about something- something irrelevant to the issue at hand.
Why you weren't swelling with his child right now. Why you were denying him- the world of the next generation of Gojo babies. 
And it’s not like he could keep letting out those little ‘get pregnant’ comments while he fucked you, often contemplating asking you to gag him so they wouldn’t slip. You had your suspicions, not outwardly saying it but if one more little comment fell from him you'd be forced to ask.
Satoru was sure that your medical state wasn't an issue, he carefully combed through your medical records to find any sort of reason as to why you weren't pregnant. One appointment 3 years ago for an iud insertion, and one appointment to get it removed a few weeks after you met him. 
And it's not like he was the issue here, he made sure he was fine in that aspect. Gojo was sure he was fine- and you had no issues with getting pregnant.
So, the solution to his fear needed a solution too. No problem, this just meant he had to fuck you even more now. More often, and even move you into his apartment. Permanently.
He was hung up in his own little world as his eyes burned holes through your damp skin. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. 
Gojo quickly fixed his face as he looked at you with a smile, “M’just thinking about havin you move into my place.” He hummed, folding his arms to rest beneath his head. Eyes following your expression as you waited for him to continue, “You're already here all the time~” he hummed, you raised your eyebrows in defense.
“That's because you can't keep your hands off of me for longer than an hour.” you laughed as he pursed his lips, feeling like he was being scolded in that moment. Knowing you meant it as a joke- but it was true.
No matter how many showers- how many breaks. Satoru was always ready to go again, and again, and again. Praying that this time will be the one. Gojo daydreamed of coming home to you, breasts swelled with milk to welcome his child into the world.
Glow on your skin and tummy growing his child. Twins, he'd fantasize. “We should just get married while we're at it.” he’d joke, knowing if he kept bringing it up, you'd cave. Knowing you weren't the kind of person to co-parent. 
But those daydreams were always cut short. Whenever he'd message you saying he wanted to see you, only for you to tell him you were on your period.
We all know that never stopped him, but the disappointment knowing his attempts were in vain, always made him try even harder next time. 
And yes you did question his constant need to fuck you, at times fully skipping prep and pushing into you- knowing you didn’t really need it since you had cleaned yourself up from the last round not to long ago.
How he'd bite his tongue whenever you'd ask him to cum inside. And I mean lets be real, when has Gojo ever bit his tongue during sex?
All but telling you to ‘shut up’ when you’d whisper in his ear, “Fill me up-” knowing if you didn't, he'd start babbling words that had been boxed up at the back of i his mind. 
That one time Gojo let them slip, the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock greedily, the words pushed themselves past his lips forcefully.
“Get pregnant” he demanded of you, only you didn't listen. You found it an odd thing to say- sure. But knowing him, he’s said worse things in the heat of the moment.
You always chalked up Satoru’s babbles before he came as meaningless words, knowing you shouldn't hold him to the promises and threats he'd make before he came.
Gojo’s made empty proposals into your ears before, “S-so good, m-” he hesitated, a low whine leaving his lips by just thinking about what he was about to say, “-marry me hm?~” he’d whisper as he overstimulated your senses.
Making sure you kept your eyes open to look at him, taking in the desperate sight of his forming ‘o’ face. Ears being fully invaded by the vulgar squelching from his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, and his unforgiving whines and moans.
Both of your hands gripping tightly on his back, knowing you'd leave raised marks on his skin. So caught up in your own orgasm you'd say ‘yes’ to any of his questions right now. 
And there was nothing Satoru liked more than asking you questions when you were close to cumming, fully taking advantage of you not being able to think straight.
Even if you had just gotten out of the shower, freshly cleaned from the last round. He'd still toss that useless towel off of you and go again, making sure to keep you on the edge- not fully giving in to your pleads and you urging him to hurry up.
Relishing in the idea that round after round, unable to count just how many times he's cum inside of you that weekend- you're still up for more. 
“You wanna go get tested together?” he asked you randomly one morning, making you look at him with furrowed eyes.
“Do I have to get tested?” you asked, unknowing that he had other sexual partners. Satoru let out a small laugh at your accusatory tone.
“No.” he smiled playfully, “I just thought it would be fun.” He hummed. And as he requested, you and him ended up in a clinic. Getting tested for any diseases or any issues.
And Gojo insisted he stay in the room as the nurse asked you the embarrassing questions. Sitting on the uncomfortable exam table, fiddling with your thumbs and thinking of how stupid it was to do this after months of having unprotected sex.
Looking over at Satoru and seeing a smile on his lips as you heard the paper wrinkle below you.
“Are you sexually active?” the overworked nurse flashed her eyes to you above the clipboard. You sighed, “Yes.” Looking over at his smug smile. 
“What kind? Oral, vaginal, anal?” she asked, looking at you. This would've been fine if it was just you and the nurse, but having Gojo in the room with you made this even more humiliating.
“Uh-” you hesitated, eyes flashing to Satoru and back to the nurse. “...All?” you hesitated, shrinking in your seat when you heard her check three boxes with the pen in her hand. 
“How many people have you had sex with in the past six months?” she asked nonchalantly, obviously having bigger issues in the world than what was happening in this room right now.
“One.” you answered, making Gojo’s chest swell with pride, knowing you were being faithful- even if there wasn't a label on what he was to you.
“In the last 12 months?” the nurse asked, you sighed, looking over at his smug face. “One.” your tone was a little more stern, knowing if you had said anything else this would've ended in a very different way.
“Are you or your partner trying to get pregnant?” the nurse flashed her eyes to Gojo, seeing him mouth a quiet ‘yes’ 
“No.” you answered, making the nurse look back at you and check no on the clipboard. 
“Are you or your partner using contraceptives or birth control?” the nurse exhaled, your hands between your knees, ‘no’ Satoru answered the question mentally.
“Yes.” you answered honestly, making him furrow his eyebrows and snap his eyes to you. You looked at him, turning your head as though you were asking him ‘what?’ 
“What kind?” the nurse asked, looking at you directly.
“I've had an iud for 3 years.” you looked back at her, hearing her write down on the paper. Satoru’s mind started remembering the online records he read, he was so sure he saw an appointment for a removal on them.
“Any plans on removal, or renewing?” she asked, side eyeing Gojo who muttered a quiet ‘yes’
“No.” you scoffed, looking at the nurse thinking he was just trying to be funny, “I had an appointment for removal- but I didn't go.” you admitted, looking over at Gojo who was suddenly sitting very stiff.
“Okay-” the nurse started, clipping the pen into her pocket and taking a step back towards the door- “The doctor will be in soon.” The nurse gave a fake smile before stepping out of the small examination room. 
A soul killing silence was in the room, mentally Gojo was scolding you for not telling him.
“Why didn't you get ‘it’ removed?” referring to the pesky little thing inside of you, you furrowed your eyebrows.
You tried remembering why you didnt go, “Hmm,” you pondered, looking at him, seeing an opportunity to lighten the heavy tension in the room. “I met you and somehow I knew I'd need it.” you joked, making him let out a sarcastic laugh.
“Besides, you didn't really think I was letting you finish inside of me without birth control…Right?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. 
That's exactly what Gojo thought, he thought that you loved him enough to not care about the repercussions that followed his addiction of cumming inside of you.
Satoru was silent, “Right?” you asked again, throwing him from his train of thought.
He stuttered, “I-I just don't remember you mentioning it.” he gave you a half smile, already plotting how he'd convince you to remove it.
“You never asked.” you scoffed, dangling your feet from the examining table, with a smile you looked at him. “And it's a good thing-” you huffed, “If I didn't have it- your apartment would be crawling with a bunch of Gojo toddlers.” You joked with a laugh. 
The thought made his heart crack, picturing all of the wasted cum he's pumped into you. His pouting lip for the rest of the appointment worried you, not hearing anymore dumb comments or seeing him smile anymore. In your mind, you thought that maybe he didn't like that you hid this from him.
That to his sensitive feelings, this was a sort of betrayal. To Satoru this was just another hurdle he'd have to jump over to achieve his goal. 
On the drive back to his place you held onto the negative tests from both of you. Gojo was thinking of all the ways he'd be able to convince you to remove it, even thinking about including Mei in his plans. Knowing if the words came from another woman, you'd hear them more clearly than if they came from him.
All it would take was a few bucks and she’d play along with his plans, yeah. That's a good idea. 
He wanted to call Mei right there as he was driving, urging her to call you and tell you how bad iud’s were for your health. But he knew this idea would have to be nursed in your mind with time. ‘1? No, 2 months is more than enough time.’  
Eventually you were convinced that iud’s were the devil, with Mei telling you horror stories about them in one ear, and ads on your phone showing birth control pills as an alternative from how much you were speaking about this.
You knew that Satoru wouldn't go back to using condoms, the conversation of asking him to use them would be futile. 
So you got it removed, with Gojo telling you that it's for the best. “That poor little thing was probably working overtime heh~” he’d whisper into your ear. Taking one pill a day was tedious, but you did it for your own health.
Even if Satoru joked that- “You don't even need any birth control~” you still took it. Everyday for the first month.
Of course, Gojo was elated at his success. Knowing that the small pack of pills were easier to hide than something that was inside of you.
And with staying at his place more often than not- leaving the pack of pills in your bag became an unsecure hiding place. Oftentimes finding the pack in odd places that you certainly did not put them. When you wouldn't be able to find them, you'd ask him if he's seen them. Making him nod his head ‘no’ with a content smile. 
Ultimately leading you to miss one or two days of taking the pill. And that led you to forgetting if you had taken a pill that day or not, but checking the pack, and seeing there was one missing from that day, you knew you did. Unknowing that Satoru was punching out the small pill and tossing it, knowing how forgetful you were at times.
The hopes of you being forgetful weren't the only thing he was counting on. Satoru made sure to keep a steady routine of intercourse after any activity.
Breakfast? He'd push you against the counter and kiss you- humming into your mouth before pulling away. “You taste like syrup-” he whispered against you. Making you let out a small giggle before connecting your lips to his once more.
Not caring if the half eaten pancakes would go cold, Satoru would gladly empty himself into you over and over again on the same counter he was just making breakfast on.
Morning, noon, and night he filled you up. And it's not like you had any second thoughts, besides it's like Satoru justified it.
“It just takes a little bit of water nd soap and you're clean again.” whenever you told him you didn't want to make a mess. Saying that sheets can be cleaned whenever he’d dirty them.
“Mops exist.” he’d defend whenever his seed would spill out of you and land on the floor. 
If he was being honest, just knowing his cum was being spilled made his soul cry. So he found a solution to this problem. Cockwarming. It was perfect in his mind, being able to stay inside of you till he was sure his load had more than enough time to impregnate you. Now having a fondness for keeping you plugged up afterwards.
Not letting you clean up by saying, “Let's just stay like this.” he’d hum in your ear, holding you close as he pretended to go to sleep. And knowing how stubborn he was- like a perfect future wife, you'd let him. 
As much as he liked to take all the credit, fate finally granted him his wish. And it was as he pictured it. 
Satoru noticed a shimmering glow on your cheekbones long before you did, he felt the difference in the way your breasts filled his hands.
The way you'd cover your nose whenever you smelled something he didn't notice. The random mornings you wake up and run straight to the bathroom.
The mere image of you potentially being pregnant made Gojo want to pull you under him again. He would never admit it to you- but the idea of your breasts full of milk, so full that they'd leak- it drove him mad.
His mouth would suddenly feel very empty and dry anytime he thought of it. Trailing thoughts as he heard you speak, wondering if you'd ever let him taste it- ‘just to taste’ he’d think. Knowing damn well he'd keep asking for a taste over and over again. 
Satoru was so sure he could convince you to let him nurse on your breast. Picturing you complaining on how full they felt- how painful it would be. Only for him to happily offer his assistance, “I just want to help,” he'd tell you.
And you being the perfect wife you are, you'd let him. Satoru relished the thought that you'd grant any of his wishes, no matter how filthy they were. Even thinking about it had him reeling for a taste- leading him to aimlessly suck on your breast harshly.
Wishing for something to come out prematurely, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you cradled his face in your lap, your other hand stroking his cock softly as you unknowingly played into his fantasies. 
On one weekend that Gojo was out of town, you picked up a test. Fearing the small changes happening in your own body. Placing the small stick on the bathroom counter, hands held together almost in prayer, ‘pleasepleaseplease.’ you muttered to yourself.
Over consuming anxiety flooding your mind as you saw the blinking halt- ‘Pregnant’ the test read. You exhaled sharply, closing your eyes and feeling the world come crashing down on your shoulders.
Unbeknownst to Satoru, you thought this would be the last straw. Thinking he couldn't busy himself with a child, let alone have a child out of wedlock- not even in a relationship.
Not even sure about your own place in this world, now considering bringing a child into it. You thought up every single horrible scenario that could happen if you presented him with the stick. Not even recalling all the sweet words he'd tell you.
The ‘ I love you’s ‘ that came straight from his heart when he'd fuck you. All the joking futures he’d picture with you.
Somehow you saw him as every cruel man you met before him. Doubts of ‘if I was enough, he wouldn't just be a situationship.’ unfolding in your mind as you blame yourself for this accident.
You inhaled, remembering to not overthink. To not assume till you spoke to him. So you waited. You waited in his place, on his couch. The white and blue stick wrapped in a napkin as you clutched it in your pocket. Waiting for him to unlock the door and step through at any moment. 
You snapped your head to the moving doorknob, seeing him bust through the doorway with a happy smile. Seeing you as he pictured you all those times. Tear stained cheeks, shaky hands and pouting lips. Hurrying to you asking ‘whats wrong?’ 
“Sit.” you croaked, closing your eyes with a sigh as you felt him sit next to you. Pulling out your hand from your pocket, unwrapping the napkin and placing the stick on the table.
“I'm pregnant.” you whimpered, eyes tearing up as you saw his face go unchanged. The corner of his lips threatening to curl into a smile. “What do I do ‘toru? Tell me what to do.” a hot tear fell from your eye, fearing that he’d toss you aside with a few hundred dollars to take care of it. 
“Why’re you cryin?” he hummed, wrapping an arm around you. You let out a struggling breath.
“I just-” you inhaled, “I'm so scared.” you cried, pressing your face to his chest.
“Scared of what?” he scoffed, trying to sound sincere, fighting off the sinister smile that crept onto his face. Proud eyes staring directly to the blue and white plastic stick.
You pulled away from him, not being able to find the words to form the sentences. Satoru took your hands in his, looking into your eyes with all the feigned sincerity he could muster. 
“I will take care of you.” he started, caressing his thumb over your knuckles as you sniffled. Taking a hand from yours and pressing it to your tummy, “Both of you.” he said with a smile, making you halt your tears and look at him bewildered.
Not knowing why he looked so excited right now, why he looked… accomplished? Seeing that glimmer in his eye he only got when he triumphed.
-
.... I don't know what to say. im sowy this doesn't have as much smut. yes this is a Segway to me one day writing a lactation kink post, im just testing the waters hehe
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
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cupcakeinat0r · 3 months
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Thinkin abt Dad Bod!Miguel…
Ft. Daddy, Praise, n Size kink!!! (Duh.)
[NSFW]
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You leave the classroom after enduring the most stupid 3 hour 8am lecture that you needed for a stupid credit for the stupid degree that you cried and prayed for.
Your spirit is immediately lifted once you see your boyfie waiting outside of the building for you, the six-foot-nine man leaning against his car like a total poser. His burly arms are crossed, which makes his pecs bulge through his shirt even more. In your opinion, he fills out his button-up perfectly; the short sleeves barely able to contain his biceps, the hairs of his chest peeking out the first three open buttons… and his soft belly. Perfect for naps. You couldn’t see it from here, but you just knew his ass was lookin good in those jeans, too. You crash into his arms, kisses planted on your head. “Missed you today, mamita.” He mumbles into your hair. “Missed you more, baby. Now, please, take me home.”
You step in the house and face plant onto the couch. You could’ve fallen asleep right there, but you feel a breath on your ear, “Mamita, aye…”, you lift your head with a “hm?” toward the gentle voice, “Mama, ven a la cama… será mejor que’l sofá, beba… ven, ven…” you let out a small ‘Mph’ when you’re peeled off the couch. Miguel scoops you up bridle style, as if you were a feather, and takes you to the bedroom.
Once you sluggishly remove your clothes, down to your panties and tank top, you, again, face plant into what feels like heaven (your bed). Miguel goes to change so that he’s just wearing his boxers. He stops in front of the full-body mirror, looking at himself. His muscles are still there, but he isn’t too happy with what he sees, having gained some weight since being with you, but more importantly, he wonders if you think the same. Even a little bit.
You smile to yourself as you feel the stomach of your lover pressed against your back, wrapping you with his strong, hairy arms and entangling his thick legs with yours, cocooning you in a bundle of warmth. “Comfy, mamita?” He presses a tender kiss on your temple. You sleepily nod your head against the pillow, blissful in your position as little spoon. There’s a moment of peaceful silence as his calloused hand starts to affectionately rub your back under the tank top.
The thought still eats at him, though.
“Bebe…”
“hm?”
“Esta feliz conmigo?”
“What?” Your head snaps up toward him. There’s genuine concern in your voice.
“I love you, that’s no question, but if you want to have your college fun, you should be able to. I don't want you to miss out on experiences because of… me. ” You sit up now, looking at him with furrowed brows, “What’re you talking about?” He looks down at the bare skin of your thigh, a deep, discouraged sigh escaping his lips as his pointer finger caresses the skin there, “I just want you to be happy. More than anything.”
In one swift motion, you straddle him. “Missing what? Those dumb frat parties filled with little boys who wouldn’t know how to handle me? You’re so silly, baby.” You press a tongue-filled kiss on his lips, and a low growl erupts in his throat. “Ugh, I’d miss out on a million parties if it meant having all this.” You murmur against his lips before starting a trail of kisses down his torso, even with an occasional nibble, the warmth and hair of his skin meeting your lips the whole way down. You worshipped every inch of his thick body with your lips, all the way from his broad and hairy chest, his stretch marks, to his chubby midriff, down his mouth-watering happy trail, and finally to the hem of his boxers, where a bulge began to form.
You look up and give him a sultry look, “No college boy could ever compare to my fine ass hubby." His voice becomes strained, breath labored as you take your index finger and rub precise circles on his wet tip through his boxers, making him hiss. “fuck, mami… what did I do to deserve you? Eres una Bendicion, tu sabes?”, he caresses your cheek with his thumb, “Scored a fucking goddess… I’m so fuckin’ lucky. No sé cómo conseguí una mujer como tú..” he coos.
"And you’re so big n’ strong n’ handsome, Daddy. I love it.” Your voice combined with your touch made his dick twitch, his now angry tip slightly peeking out. You fail to fight back a small moan when you release his pretty cock from the confines of his boxers, it springing against his lower belly. Drool began to form in your mouth. You haven’t even tasted it and you were already cock drunk. “love this cock s’much…so perfect.” you mewl as you slowly begin pumping his cock. Miguel pathetically looks down at you; The prettiest girl in the world showing him the attention he doesn’t feel worthy of but oh so deserves. “Awe, You want daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby?” He tuts, his voice all sweet and pouty.
“Mhm,” you nod, a meek expression on your face.
“Let me show my man just how happy I am to be his.”
And any self-doubt that Miguel had about you being with him was poof! Gone.
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*sighs* He sew cewt. Hope u liked it <3
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
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sim0nril3y · 3 months
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon hasn't been able to stop thinking about your relationship and how not making a commitment to you might lead you to running off with someone else. He needs to solve this.
Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), suggestive thoughts, canon-typical swearing.
It was strange to Simon that the two of you had settled into routine together. Most nights he’d pick you up after finishing work, he’d bring you back to his home or drop you off at your flat. More often than not Simon would cook you some good food to fill up your empty tummy, then roll around in the sheets together. The next morning you’d wake up beside him and he’d set to making you a hearty breakfast and discuss plans for the days. Those plans typically of doing exactly what you’d done the day before, spending time together and… though he’d never say it aloud Simon enjoyed it, he looked forward to it.
There was the times when Simon was left feeling lonely because you weren’t around. It was when he wouldn’t see you from one day to the next because you were busy working on an art project or work had left you exhausted. Simon was a solitary person, not needing or even wanting other people around him, or… at least that was how he’d felt before meeting you.
So, what was this? A question that Simon had never asked himself before, but now it was burning inside of him. Never before had Simon desired clarification, but as it currently stood you were just two people living independent lives that slept with each other and spent time together. That left opportunity for you to find someone else and bring them into your life. He hoped that wasn’t the case, it certainly wasn’t something you’d mentioned before but it still left that door open for someone to take you from him.
The thought of losing you filled him with utter dread. How was he supposed to sleep at night with your body to curl around? He’d started buying extra food when doing his weekly shop, who was going to help him eat it all? Plus, all your favourite snacks were filling the cupboards, if you weren’t here then they’d just go to waste… Besides, there wasn’t another living soul out there that would be able to make you fall apart as quick as he could.
Bloody hell. He was in deep here.
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That night after a long shift at work you were curled up beside him on the sofa, blanket draped over your legs, snacks between your lounging bodies and eyes fixed on whatever dumb show you’d thrown on the TV. You hadn’t seemed to notice that from beside you Simone was stewing silently, mind racing with how to broach the subject in the most subtle way.
These questions and that anxiety was beginning to build up inside of Simon, his knee was bobbing relentlessly, muscles wound tight, fingers tapping furiously against the arm of the sofa like a metronome. How was he going to do this? How was he going to ask for clarification on what you were to each other? What did he actually hope the answer was going to be? He wanted you, right? Only you. He didn’t want another living soul to have you… fuck, the thought of someone else having their hands and their lips on you. It made him seethe.
“What are we?” The question tumbled from his lips, short and frustrated. It caused you to look up at him, brows furrowed. “Sorry?” “You… do you ever do this with anyone else?” He looked down at you through intense dark eyes. “Do I… watch TV with other people?” You questioned, almost not following his line of questions.
Further frustrated Simon bit out. “Do you fuck anyone else?” That made you begin to fight a little smile, finally figure out what he was trying to ask. “And the rest of it… everything we do together… like going for walks, or to dinner… or just watching TV like this…” He gestured to the way you were lounging so comfortably behind him, sans any make-up and looking so relaxed. “Do you?” Simon asked, you simply smirked as you flitted you gaze back towards the TV and muttered easily. “Would it bother you if I did?”
This question only made him stew and simmer again at the thought of someone else being in your life like this. The thought of them kidding and making you fall apart only mad his anger bubble further. “Mm.” He grumbled out, keep his dangerous eyes locked on you.
Reaching across to rest a delicate hand on his tattooed forearm you mentioned softly. “I don’t do this with anyone else, Si.” You informed him, watching the tension leaving him body in that moment. “Only you.” You quip with a little shrug of your shoulders, before continuing. “If I’m not here with you then I’m at work and I’m wishing that I was here with you or counting down the minutes until I’m going to see you again or wildly ignoring all of tasks and remembering all my time with you.” There was vulnerability to your tone as you informed him that. “Then I see you and I’m happy in all those hours before I’m back to being on my own and wishing it’ll happen all over again.”
You were in deep too. With the way that Simon was looking at you, you could have been convinced that there wasn’t anyone else in the world. “Simon, are you trying to ask me something?” Reaching up you brushed your fingers against his face delicately before following with a gentle few kisses against his cheeks and temples and jawline. Every action made forced his body to relax, coaxing his anxiety away before finally the words came. “What if… we did do this everyday? Just… us two…”
You gnawed your lower lip. “I could get behind that.” You agreed with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. “So… if we did do this… what would I call you?” You quirked a brow at him. “My boyfriend?” Simon grimaced. “Love, I’m not a boy.” He muttered, snatching some of your snacks and beginning to munch away. “How about my lover?” You purred playfully and once again Simon groan and threw you a look. “So… just my Simon?” You raised your brows at him, this time he didn’t seem to fight your suggestion, simply smirked.
“Mm…” Then he nodded, much to your surprise. “And you’d be mine.” It was like your heart exploded in your chest, smiling at him and trying not to act overly excited and frighten him off. “I guess I would be~” Then leaning forward you kissed a couple sweet kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Not moving too fast?” You ask, concerned that Simon might change his mind all of a sudden and end up hurting you both. “M’sure, babe.” He responded, pressing a sweet kiss to your nose. "You're mine."
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Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2024
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steddielations · 5 months
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Wayne pov, implied neglect, abandonment
Wayne gets a call from Hawkins Elementary that Eddie hasn’t been to school in two days.
They couldn’t get ahold of Al on the phone, as usual. Wayne hopes his suspicions are wrong, but he already knows what he’s going to find when he shows up to the shabby old house on Philadelphia street with a McDonald’s bag in hand.
His knock on the door goes unanswered, but he sees small fingers and big round eyes peeking through the side window blinds. 
“Hey, Eddie, it’s your Uncle Wayne. Open the door, it’s alright.”
Eddie shuffles away from the window, but there’s still no answer.
“You hungry? I brought those nugget things you like, that’s all. Some kinda toy in here too.”
After a moment, the door slowly opens a sliver. One big button eye peeks through the crack and a pale skinny arm reaches out.
Wayne hands over the food. “Gonna let me come inside?” 
Eddie’s arm snakes back in with the bag like a claw machine. But after another moment, the door swings open fully, revealing Eddie in rumpled clothes at least a couple days worn. The shadows under his eyes tell Wayne all he needs to know.
“Dad’s gone to the store,” Eddie smiles nervously, he didn’t inherit Al’s ability to lie behind it. “He said he’ll be right back.”
Wayne just nods as he comes inside. One look around confirms what he already knew. By the window, there’s a blanket and a scatter of candy wrappers and empty soda cans where Eddie’s been sleeping. Waiting and watching the driveway for Al.
This wouldn’t be the first time Al’s gone off and left Eddie to fend for himself. Wayne’s been helping out as much as he can since Eddie’s poor mama passed. He doesn’t know much about raising kids but he knows Al’s one dumb selfish bastard to be leaving Eddie alone for days since the ripe age of 8.
Wayne ignores the twist in his chest and the stab of anger he feels and doesn’t mention it. He follows Eddie to the coffee table in front of the couch where Eddie digs into the McDonald’s sack.
“School called and said you weren’t there. You feelin’ bad?” He reaches out, gently pushing back Eddie’s wild curls to feel his forehead. He’s surprised Eddie lets him, too busy scarfing down chicken nuggets. “No fever.” Wayne notes, but Eddie’s hair needs a good wash.
Eddie’s narrow shoulders slump a bit. He doesn’t look at Wayne, tearing open his chocolate milk with his teeth. 
“I just— didn’t wanna go today. I hate school. Miss Taylor always gives me a bad behavior grade even when I act the best in class. She calls me Junior. Munson Junior.”
“Thought you liked being called Junior. Like your dad.”
Eddie shrugs, those shadows darkening on him. “Everyone forgets I have my own name too. Sometimes I just wanna be Eddie.”
Already, he’s feeling the weight of his last name. Al taught him to hotwire the second he turned 10 and how to pick locks even before that. Munson tradition, Al wouldn’t listen when Wayne told him that’s bullshit. What seem like cool tricks to Eddie now already make him guilty in everyone’s eyes. Wayne’s been feeling it all his life, thanks to his old man and now Eddie’s got Al to thank for making it even worse.
“That’s good, you just keep reminding them,” Wayne says, being careful with his next words. “When you finish that, why don’t you go pack a bag, alright? You can come stay with me until your dad gets back.”
Eddie goes stiff, chewing slower now. “It— it hasn’t been long. He said he’d be right back.” His eyes drift over to Wayne, checking to see if he buys it. Wayne doesn’t. So Eddie huffs, “I wanna stay here. I hate the trailer park.”
That’s just him repeating Al’s shit talk, so Wayne doesn’t take offense. “Your friend’s been askin’ about you. That little girl next door.”
Eddie perks up at that, “Ronnie?” Wayne nods and thinks that does the trick for a second, but Eddie stubbornly sulks again. “I can’t go. Dad told me to stay here until he gets back.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be here alone. You don’t have to be.”
“I’m not scared to stay by myself,” Eddie insists, sitting up straighter, looking even younger trying to look older. “Dad said I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m 10 now and I can look after myself. He taught me to use the stove and everything. I always do fine on my own.”
“So he’s been leaving a lot, then? You know you can call me to come pick you up,” Wayne tries not to frame it like it’s Eddie’s fault, pointing to where his phone number is pinned on the fridge with a magnet.
Eddie’s lip wobbles despite how he tries to square his jaw.
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“You ain’t—”
“You said to call if I need you and I don’t need you, Wayne! I'm fine!”
Eddie shoves the food away, his eyes wide and shiny when he cuts them back to Wayne. Not glaring with anger, just hurt. 
“It’s not fine,” Wayne tells him, gentle as the first time he held him, just a tiny thing all bundled up in Elizabeth’s knitting. “Your dad’s got his head in his ass again. You can’t stay here on your own, no matter what he said. I ain’t leaving you by yourself.”
“I’m not going.” Eddie’s more pleading now than arguing. “I have to stay here so Dad can find me when he gets back. Don’t you get that? If I’m not here, I won’t see him.”
That’s what it’s really about, Eddie thinking it’s his responsibility to keep up with his Dad. Instead of the other way around.
“If he comes looking for you, he’ll know where to find you.” But Al won’t. It’s never Eddie that he comes back for. Wayne doesn’t tell Eddie that, but now Eddie’s starting to learn that on his own. Al proved it to him time and time again.
“Why do you even care?” Eddie’s angry now. But it’s not really Wayne that he’s mad at. They both know that.
“It’s alright, son, c’mon now.” Wayne reaches for him but Eddie quickly pushes his hand away.
“You aren’t my dad.” Tears escape with the words, and seeing his pain hurts Wayne more than anything he could say, or do. He pushes Wayne again. “So why do you care? Why are you here?”
He doesn’t need an answer, he just needs to let it out.
So Wayne sits there while Eddie shoves his chest and cries harder, “You aren’t my dad. Why do you care?” Wayne curls his hands around Eddie’s smaller ones as the question turns to, “Why aren’t you?” Then it’s a broken little sob of, “Why aren’t you my dad?”
Wayne catches Eddie when he finally tires himself out, and instead of pushing Wayne away, Eddie’s clinging to him. Eddie’s holding on like Wayne’s all he’s got left in the world. Wayne hugs Eddie to his chest, wishing there was more he could do.
Al put a hole in Eddie and he’s digging it deeper everyday, one that Wayne won’t ever quite fit into. He tries to fill it the best he can, giving Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer, going to the talent show because Al never makes good on his promises to be there for Eddie, not letting Eddie stay in this damn house alone waiting for someone who’s never gonna show up. Maybe Wayne’s not that someone, but he can still be here for Eddie. And he’s gonna be.
“C’mon, let’s get you outta here.”
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sovksluv · 17 days
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seven minutes in hell
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𖤐 . pairing - fratboy!Luke Castellan x fem!reader
𖤐 . summary - a stupid game of spin the bottle/seven minutes in heaven gone… wrong?
𖤐 . content includes - smut MDNI🔞, bad interpretations of frat parties/boys
𖤐 . word count - 1014
𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7
𖤐 . a/n - i randomly got this idea and was very motivated idk why. anyways, hope you enjoy !!
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“you are so. mph~ infuriating,” you struggled out.
he chuckled, speeding up his erratic movements, forcefully slamming your body into the wall with each thrust.
“yeah, keep saying that like my dick- fuuck~ like my fuckin’ dick isn’t in ya’ right now,” Luke teased, slowing his movements to add to the annoyance, protruding a half whimper-groan from you.
he scoffed, a dumb smirk on his face as his hips resumed their work, thrusting his fat cock into you even faster — desperate to finish you both off before the timer finished.
his sudden pounding forced a choked moan from you, panic flooding your eyes. Luke’s smirk widened, he motioned to one of your hands with his head.
you took the sign, gratefully covering your mouth the second his calloused fingertips met your clit, which erupted yet another squeak from you.
he practically had you bent in half against the closet wall, the tight space not leaving much room for the two of you.
you were at some stupid frat party — which you did not want to go to. your friend Silena insisted you needed some time out, and just about dragged you to said party.
with a few drinks in, you were grumbling as she dragged you to a cliché game of seven minutes in heaven, consisting of a circle of other students all drunk or high or both.
despite your tipsy state, you recognized a few people;
Charles Beckendorf — aka Silena’s never-ending crush that is too sweet for his own good.
Clarisse La Rue — aka the girl that typically wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near a frat house, yet here she was.
Chris Rodriguez — aka the lame douchebag with hopeful heart eyes towards our dear Clarisse, and who also happens to be best friends with the boy that’s pounding your pussy into oblivion.
of course, the second it’s your turn to spin the bottle, it lands on probably the worst person in the group — Luke Castellan.
thank the Gods that the blaring lights of the party hid the blush on your cheeks, with a little help from the annoyed groan that left your mouth.
Silena giggled into her red solo cup, pushing you to stand up next to Luke, who was already standing, a smirk on his stupid face.
and that’s how you got here — folded in half against the closet wall, knees by your face and calves hanging over his shoulders, desperately screaming into your hand as Luke drilled his cock into you.
the fact that you got in this position during a seven minute game should’ve been on your mind, but the feeling of his cock head poking around your cunt had your eyes rolling back, head empty.
you wrapped your other arm around his neck, bringing him closer to you. uncovering your mouth and wrapping your other arm around him, your lips were close — but not touching.
you moaned into his mouth, feeling his warm breath as he pounded you, his own groans only fueling your arousal.
your eye trailed up, left hand coming up to knock away his stupid backwards cap, fingers immediately running through his curls, pulling and scratching at them.
he almost whimpered, lips trailing around your collarbone, moving up with kisses and leaving marks in his path.
“w-why do you we-ar that stupid c-cap?” you stuttered out, moaning breathlessly as his lips ceased their attack.
he chuckled again at you, hips stuttering and eyes fluttering. “will you shut up? m’ trying to fuck you.”
you moaned out, head falling back against the wall, his cock and fingers together draw you closer to the edge.
warmth spills and spreads through your bodies, feeling the effect of both your orgasms hitting at the same time.
you forced Luke’s head to yours, shoving your lips on his as you moaned in each other's mouths, sloppy and wet kisses following his slowing thrusts.
Luke carefully let you down, a hand on your waist to keep you up right. he hastily pulled up his jeans, putting himself away as he helped you redress.
you kept your arms around his neck as he pulled your panties up, fixing your dress and your hair.
face flushed, you watch as he bent down to get his cap, instead placing it backwards on your head, laughing at your annoyance.
moving to take it off, he gently grabbed your wrist.
“keep it.”
you raised your eyebrows but listened, lowering your hand. you went to speak again but were interrupted by a knock at the closet door.
in frantic movements, Luke had you shoved against the wall, breathing heavily as his head was turned towards the door, his tall frame blocking you from being seen if it were to open.
“seven minutes are up!” shouted Chris through the door, rustling could be heard from the other side as he moved away the chair that locked it. “you guys can come out now!”
Luke turned towards you, using his finger tips to tilt your chin up. with his fingers still touching you, he slightly bent down to capture your lips again in a searing kiss.
when he pulled away you were left almost breathless as he took your hand, opening the door and leading the two of you out.
whistling was heard from the game circle as you guys exited the smaller space. instead of going back to your spot next to Silena, Luke pulled your sore body down with him, sitting you right on his lap.
you made eye contact with Silena, who raised her eyebrows with a knowing smirk on her face.
everyone in the group knew what you had done in the closet, the stumbling of your walk, flushed face, and Luke’s stupid cap on your head hinted at it.
also the fact that you were sitting on his lap, head on his shoulder with his arms around your middle and his hickeys littered on your neck.
no one said anything though, they all just smirked into their own cups, continuing to play the game.
you still hated frat parties though. just maybe not this one.
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© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work!
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977 notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 22 days
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hi! how would gojo react to having a partner who struggles to walk sometimes (like needing a break if they’ve been up for too long or their legs randomly failing)
„I’m sorry, I need to sit down.“
You almost fail to understand your own words, ears ringing so violently that you feel like throwing up any given minute.
You’re weak. No matter how you twist and turn it, no matter how supportive your boyfriend is, you’ll always stay weak. Is it an illness, was it an accident? You can’t put a finger on it, mind occupied by nothing but shame and dizziness.
“Don’t apologize for that.”
His arm keeps you from falling over the bench you collapsed onto, holds you in place while you pray for your wobbly legs to regain their strength.
“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.
This definitely isn’t what the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime signed up for when he fell in love with you. No, you can’t even walk properly, legs failing you randomly from time to time. Your glossy eyes dart towards him, how he sits next to you with a gentle smile on his face. Well, Satoru doesn’t seem to mind.
But you do.
“Didn’t ya hear m-“
“I’m weak”, you finally blurt out.
Countless times, you put on a show for him, laughed it off when your body once again failed you. But you’ve had enough. Fuck, how much you prayed to be normal, that Shoko might be able to heal you. How are you supposed to be the girlfriend you want to be for him when you aren’t even able to walk a mile without almost breaking down?
“How dare you to say something like this about my girlfriend? She’s awesome”, he jokes gently while his arm holds onto your waist even tighter.
Not even his cute little jokes are enough to get you out of this hole today. You sink into yourself, hands covering your aching eyes. He deserves way better than that, someone who’s able to keep up with him, someone he doesn’t have to worry about? But you? Your throat gets tight with every passing second, tears glistening in your eyes.
You’re nothing but a loser.
“Hey, look at me.”
He doesn’t give you a choice. With a swift motion, he holds onto your chin, forces you to look up at him and reveal the shame of your tears. Will he even want you after seeing you like this?
“You’re not weak because your body can’t keep up, okay? You’re not a worse person because you need a break. If I had a sharp mind like yours, I’d literally sacrifice everything else. You are the love of my life, (y/n). And I know exactly that you’re tearing yourself apart with your dumb thoughts. You are great, okay? Fuck that little breaks from here and there. Man, I wouldn’t have noticed that goat standing right there between the trees if we didn’t take a break here. Like are you seeing this?”
A little giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it, eyes darting towards the animal.
“You’re right”, you breathe out.
“See? Now stop what you’re doing there and tell me when you’re ready to go again, okay?”
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toji-girl · 2 months
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alpaha! t. fushiguro
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tags: 18+ only content - minors dni + repost from my old blog + omega! fem reader + omega verse + explicit smut + degradation such as breeding bitch and slut but he doesn’t mean it + breeding + you’re in heat + no prep + he holds your throat + teasing + knotting + so self-indulgent + pup pet name
This is such a bad idea, quite perhaps the dumbest one he’s ever agreed to but there was no way he could tell an old friend no, not when he’s helped him countless times and there was something in it for him still.
“Are you sure?” Toji asked as he stood on your front porch waiting for a response and he knew his friend knew about his feelings towards you, but your husband didn’t trust anyone else to do this but him.
He could hear Shiu groan on the other side of the phone wishing it didn’t have to come to this. The mere thought of Toji touching you, his precious wife in heat made his skin crawl. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Toji chuckled and leaned his massive frame against the doorway bringing up a large fist to knock on the door. “She’s not going to be able to answer, just walk inside. She’s well aware of what’s going to happen.” Shiu told the other man getting a hum in response.
Your husband could hear you whining on the other side of the phone, it was pitiful the way you sounded and howled almost as the unbearable heat coursed through your entire body, liquid desire creating a pool of slick in your drenched panties.
But what he couldn’t do was smell you like Toji. He stopped in his tracks when he stepped inside, your musk hit him like a fist in the gut. It was so strong, and he could hear you begging for relief.
“Fushiguro. Fuck her then leave. Do not overstay your welcome.” Toji chuckled again and smirked as he walked to your bedroom slowly listening to you moan with no shame as you humped whatever it was.
He hung up on your husband and slid his phone into his pocket. His friend is long gone and will be for a while, and what kind of alpha male would he be if he left you alone and vulnerable in bed?
When the door pushed open your head snapped up, your entire face flushed and your eyes wild as you stopped your movements while your husband’s best friend stared at you with a cocky grin. He towered above you when he walked in closer. “You poor thing.”
It was a sight to behold. You with a pillow between your legs as you curled up in a faux nest of Shiu’s shirts with your face nuzzled into the fabric to help simulate his scent into coaxing you into coming.
If you could do that maybe you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now, and maybe if you would’ve taken the pills Toji wouldn’t be here as he watched you hump the pillow unashamedly. “H-help please.”
You looked up at him with wet eyes knowing why Toji was here. Shiu had called him earlier today when you informed him of your situation, and knowing he couldn’t leave he had his friend help out instead.
Toji’s nostrils flared when breathed in your heady scent, and his chest rose up and down fast and hard the more your sweet slick poured from your pussy that gushed the more you rode the pillow. “Stop.”
He wasn’t your alpha, nor had he marked you, so you didn’t have to do what he said, but his tone was something you didn’t want to argue so you stopped and whined. “Pitiful crybaby needing to be knotted.”
After knowing Toji for so long you didn’t care how he spoke to you or if he did at all if that meant you get to get fucked dumb, that was the only thing your mushy brain could muster up. “Yes! I want your knot!”
You also hated the way you sounded begging for another man’s knot. “I should mark you myself, you’re in heat so it would be the perfect time. You could be me and Shiu’s sweet little plaything.” He voiced.
He dropped his hand down to the crown of your head petting it. You felt his fingers tease your bare back until he reached the globe of your ass grabbing it in one large palm before the pillow was tugged from between your legs, the fabric brushed against your clit painfully.
Your pussy wept around nothing from the idea of two knots filling you to the brim made your back bow at the simple thought of it, how full you would feel and how many orgasms can they both give you?
“Oh. You like that, don’t you? I wonder if Shiu knows how needy his little wife is for some dick.” Toji mused when his palm cupped your wet cunt as he still stood on the side of the bed never moving.
You wanted to growl and snap at him for being so cocky and he’s barely even done anything to deserve your submission or attention. “He is my husband after all I think he knows already.” You hissed.
He growled low in his throat as Toji settled himself on the bed feeling his cock throb between thick powerful thighs, his sack was swollen with the need to empty his cum into something wet and warm.
“You’re acting like a desperate little housewife whose husband doesn’t know how fuck her right.” Toji told you with a click of his tongue as he pushed your face into the mattress. “Spread ‘em.”
His hands skated along your back as you arched it for him pressing your ass against the soft material of his sweats. Your fingers curled into the sheets with an irritated huff. “So fuckin’ impatient, don’t you want to cum on my fingers or something sweet thing?” He hummed.
You shook your head side to side wildly humping the air now wondering why he hasn’t ravaged you yet. Is it because you’re both not mated? Your scent should be driving him wild yet he’s acting cool.
With your ass perched high in the air Toji spread your cheeks open to get a good look at your aching cunt, he could see your clit throb and pulse with the need to be touched. Your smell ingrained inside him.
“Holy fuck, don’t think I could focus on eating your cute pussy anyway when you want to be fucked dumb isn’t that right pup?” He asked and let his hand rest on your throat as the other removed his cock from the confines of his pants with a deep growl.
He ground his leaking tip along the curve of your ass before Toji grabbed the base of his cock feeling his knot as he tapped the tapered tip against your skin. It felt hot to the touch as did you.
It was growing to the point where you couldn’t handle it anymore, fat tears streamed down your face in rivers. “Please please just fuck me I need your dick inside me so bad it hurts! Toj!” You cried out sharply.
How can he tell you no when you beg like that? His green eyes were glassy as he watched your hole stretch around him then shrink back down in size when he pulled away. “Stop teasing me!” You grunted.
“You should be embarrassed acting like this for another man’s knot. Not demanding me to do anything, remember who the alpha is here?“ He questioned as he bottomed out in one thrust.
Your head snapped back when Toji got to the hilt, his sack rested against you as he moved one hand to your throat holding it gently, never applying any pressure but you could feel his claws still.
You both waited for a moment letting you mold around his cock before he found a fast and frenzied pace, the hand that was on your throat moved to the back of your head pushing it into the pillows muffling your loud cries and whines for him to go deeper.
Toji planted one foot flat on the bed and the other stayed bent as he fucked you from behind like you were his wife, the smell of your sweet slick hung like a heavy perfume, one that he wanted to drown himself in.
The bed creaked and rocked with each thrust sending the nightstands to topple over, the items on top fell to the floor as Toji held your hips now dragging you up and down his dick hearing you.
"Hear how wet you are? Does Shiu fuck you this good?” He asked bending over and pressing his chest against your back, his hot breath fanned against your ear as he mounted you more, going deeper.
You grabbed at the wooden bars of the headboard and tried to meet his sloppy thrusts as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. It was like he knew you wanted to be fucked like this with no mercy of any.
Shiu was sweet always, always treating you like fragile glass despite telling him you could handle more even when you were in heat like this. You love him but he can’t fulfill the animalistic side of you.
Toji’s fingers slipped against your arousal when his hand found itself between your legs to rub at your swollen clit before he pinched it gently. “You feel so good around me pup, too bad I didn’t make you my breeding little bitch, get your belly all round with my litter.”
Your pussy clamped down around him trying to pull more of his cock inside you at the thought it, your brain could only think of being bred like you were meant to. You sobbed at the idea feeling your body shudder and shake when he stroked a certain spot inside you.
You never thought that this would happen in your marriage to Shiu when you met him at the club years ago ironically enough with Toji who was in a relationship at the time and now he’s the one fucking you instead of your husband and you shouldn’t enjoy it as much.
So why do you? Why do you arch more into Toji wanting to feel him inside your womb? He fucked you unhinged, his head thrown back as sweat plastered his hair to his forehead feeling your cunt pulse and clench so tightly around him it feels like you’re going to rip his dick off.
You’ve never been fucked this way and while granted you were in heat and would never do this if you weren’t the feeling of Toji would now be the only thing you would want when you get into such a state.
Your body would only crave him, how deep his dick reached, and how good he made you feel with each thrust and roll of his hips. His dirty whispering in your ear made you weep. “You’re going to be my good girl and take my knot in that gushing cunt of yours until you’re full.”
It was sinful the way he ground against you when he pulled away slamming your ass against his hips watching the flesh jiggle, his green eyes flicked down to his cock seeing a white creamy ring.
Truly it was a bad idea to do this Toji knew when he first sheathed himself inside you, he was going to be chasing you like a dog chasing its own tail regardless of your own alpha husband or the rules.
They were meant to be broken, weren’t they? You could feel the tip of his swollen and sticky cock kiss your cervix. “It’s like you knew you had to be put in this position to get thoroughly bred. Good girl.”
His praise made you howl as did his degradation. Something that Shiu never really dips into. “Do you love letting another man cum in your cunt that’s supposed to belong to your husband? If only he could see how you look - shit - maybe we should video call him?”
Toji got his answer when your pussy squeezed him tightly and your blown-out glassy eyes met with his when you looked over your shoulder, you looked like such a fucked-out mess it made him grin.
“Yes! I love getting knotted by you Toji! Please mark me!” You sobbed and weakly pulled away from him when he stopped his movements at your request. Marking another alpha’s omega is something that has happened before and left with packs and marriages breaking.
He looked at you and cocked his head to the side, his tongue glided over his sharp canines wondering how sweet and supple your skin felt and how easily it would break to take his mark and make you his.
This has to be the dumbest idea he’s ever had, the second one was coming here getting a feel of you. “Want me to make you all mine? What about Shiu? I don’t think he’d like that much pup.” He countered somehow using what was left of his sanity as you fucked him.
“Don’t care, you both can share me and give me litters! I’m so close please please please!” Your voice was hoarse as you bounced yourself up and down the length of Toji’s cock feeling his knot swell and grow.
He pushed all of himself inside you at the right time feeling your cunt milk him, his knot slipped in right after swelling as he came which filled you to the brim like you wanted. The both of you panted as Toji situated you and him in a spooning position to let his knot settle.
You held onto his arms feeling spent and exhausted, but you still wanted more and Toji knew that the moment you pushed back against him after a few moments. “Take care of me Toji, need an alpha so bad to stay here in bed and breed me over and over again.”
“How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?” He whispered in your ear letting you ride him this time taking as many orgasms as you wanted.
yeah so I tried to look up more info on this and I couldn’t find a lot so please take my made-up knowledge of omega verse lmaoo!
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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The Art of Hospitality (yan!Nanami x fem!Reader)
Nanami comes home to his favorite roommate. He is hurt and tired...but he knows who will instantly make him feel better. Tags and CW: Yandere, mild dub-con, non-consensual masturbation, Nanami is a panty stealer, light age difference, power imbalance, housewife kink, groping, praise kink AO3
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You accidentally took his shirt from the laundry. Nanami thinks it’s an accident – he isn’t sure that you’re dumb enough to genuinely not realize that you were wearing a man’s clothes for a while already, but he doesn’t think you’re brave enough to flirt with him like this either. You’re stuck between being dumb and being too abrasive in your act – and honestly, Kento can deal with the dumb ones. Always a pleasure to spend some time with a person who knows when to shut up. 
You look simply divine like this – tugging a shirt that is too big for you in your tiny shorts, carefully rolling the sleeves up so they won’t get splashed while you are doing the dishes. Nanami never asked you to pull up with so many domestic responsibilities – but it was expected. He already allows you to live here without paying rent, so…only natural you’d be his housewife in everything besides affection. He knows how careful he must be – you’re innocent, as some college dropout can be, and you don’t really think of him like that. At least, he thinks you aren’t – he is sure that were you a bit braver, you’d already sleep in his bed instead of a tiny guest bedroom. If you’d wear his shirt on any other day of the week, he would simply note this in his head and proceed with his day. Maybe stare a bit, imagining your curves hidden by the baggy fabric, catching glimpses of skin whenever you roll it up a bit too high. If it was on any other day, he’d just smile and proceed to go to his study.
But you had to pull his shirt out of the laundry on the exact day when he dragged his body home from a particularly nasty fight with a curse. The thing was defeated – something about fear of bug larvae, the sound it made while being dissected by his knife was something that Nanami wouldn’t forget for a long time, even with an ample amount of alcohol. You just had to be cute and adorable and domestic and wear his clothes on a day when he wanted it most. Where all of his desires of retirement amplified, pushing for a fantasy that was just out of reach. 
Until he saw you cleaning the dishes with the tenacity of a proper housewife. Nanami knew he had to keep himself in check – knew how much he’d scare you with this. Still, at that moment, he wanted nothing more but to push you on that kitchen counter, roll his shirt even higher on your body, and use you like a proper domestic wifey you are. 
— You did the laundry? 
He slips right behind you, hands on your waist. It’s a gesture that cannot be mistaken for anything other than affection – and you get stiff immediately, not sure of what to do. He hopes you’d be a smart girl and won’t defy him. He doesn’t have patience for brats right now – no matter how adorable they might look. You take a deep breath and release it, relaxing in his hold. He squints, a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. What a boedient thing you are. 
— I did the dark ones, yes. I wanted to do the whites as well, but there wasn’t enough, so… You trail off, your hands shaking just a little bit. Nanami notices and leans on you a bit, pressing you against his chest. Your breath hitches again, panic evident in your body. He wants you to relax – and so he slips one of his hands across your waist, pressing you even closer to him. You have to get used to the heat of his body eventually. Nanami isn’t known for charity work and you’d have to pay him back one way or another – and currently, you only have one way of achieving this. 
Nanami pressed his hand more firmly against your waist, squishing you between his body and the counter. You are forced to relax into his touch – with no way of getting out, it’s only obvious why you’d be this scared. Poor, dumb girl. No idea what is coming to her. — You washed my things as well? You put the dishes on the drying stand, wiping your hands with the nearest towel. There is a certain clumsiness in your actions – like you were trying to remember how to act properly on the go. Like you tried your hardest to be a perfect housekeeper without looking too desperate. Although he likes that air of eagerness around you. 
— I wanted to do something for you, sir. While I can’t get a proper job. The little snag didn’t go unnoticed. Every time you try to convince him that you finally got some part-time position, something minimal wage and extra working hours, he will always say that working like this would be useless – that you need a real job if you truly want to build up your experience. After some time, you stopped even looking for openings, instead marinading yourself in your meager savings and looking after the house. Sometimes you wondered if he just wanted to get a free house worker – but then again, he let you live in this big house without paying rent or even groceries. The only reason you’re still here is because he is generous…and you don’t want to think about the reasons behind it.
Spending time around so many people with loud personalities, Nanami craved someone simple. Easy. Nice and quiet – and a girl who is too helpless to survive on her own is just that. Some people are not meant to survive on their own, and there is a certain dignity in relying solely on help from others. 
He caresses your hands – you don’t understand why is he suddenly so affectionate after spending months not even bothering to learn your last name, but then you notice the smell of blood. Scratches on his hands. Something that smelled like wet dirt and metal. 
You turn away, bumping your nose into his chest. Kento looks…disheveled. With his tie lost, a few buttons were torn off from his perfectly ironed – you ironed it just a few days ago – shirt that was now covered in soil and blood. He looks like he just got into a fight – with no indications of who was on the winning side. You weren’t sure where he worked exactly – something corporate, you think, some cushy position that allowed him to escape overtime and get home at 6 PM sharp every day. Corporate people usually don’t return home looking like something tried to chew on them. 
— N…nanami, what…what happened? He sighs, rubbing his forehead. It seems like your question somehow irritated him – you don’t want to be like this, don’t want him to hate you. Yet, it’s almost like your worry is making him insanely angry somehow. You bite your lips, face scrunched in a worried expression. You don’t want him to die – or even just get slightly more injured. 
— Got into an accident. There is nothing to worry about. 
You’re definitely not buying it. Kento likes seeing you gushing over him – but knowing how anxious his little roommate can be, you’re certainly not going to let it go so easily. And he has no intentions of showing you the secrets of the world of jujutsu right now. If ever. 
— You got run over?! — No. 
— A dog attacked you?! — No. 
— Oh. You were robbed..? He sighs, thinking of how he still hasn’t come up with an excuse. He should have – but the fight was hard already, and the energy he spent working overtime on that curse didn’t make anything better. He loves your worry and your kindness, but he can’t deal with it right now. Somehow, he has to divert your attention. Somehow, he has to take this comfort he wanted from you and your body. 
— You’re wearing my shirt. 
Your eyes widened, heat spreading across your face. He sees that he has successfully distracted you – your hands are coming to cover yourself immediately, tugging on the wrist of the shirt as if trying to see if he is right. Seems like you really didn’t notice you were wearing something that belonged to him. God, what a dumb thing you are. What did he do to deserve such a blessing? You take a step to the side, trying to escape the trap of his hands – but Nanami is not having it. With a grunt, he is forcing you in front of him again, making sure you’re set here, nice and comfortable. Trapped close to him – like he’d ever let go of someone as precious as you. He might be a lot of things – a workaholic, an extremely tired individual with love for useless and dumb sunshine girls, but he is not stupid. Letting you go now will only increase the gap between the two of you – and not even in a sense of age. 
— I’m…oh. I’m really sorry, sir, it must have been mixed in the laundry and… He snorts. The sound is weird, alien to someone like him – you look up, surprised he even bothered to listen to you. You really got him acting so weird…it’s almost an achievement. Somehow, you don’t feel like you won something. 
— You didn’t even notice it was too big? 
— I have some oversized clothes. — Something that your ex left you? 
You find yourself wordless at the accusation. It doesn’t sound too weird at first – but the harshness in his voice is making you shiver. His hands are on your waist again, holding you in a gesture that can’t be platonic – and this is the first time he paid so much attention to you. You feel uncomfortable. You feel desired, somehow. Nanami smells of blood and you find yourself aroused at it. Are you really that weird of a person? Fighting the urge to press your nose in his shoulder and breathe in his musk, mixed with blood, sweat, and that wonderful perfume he is using? The scent of which was traveling with you the whole morning ever since you took the shirt out of the laundry. Did you truly not know it was his? Somehow, you aren’t so sure now. 
— I…I guess I just wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry, sir, I will…
You insist on calling him “sir” despite your age gap being not that terrible. He couldn’t be your father – yet he has this aura about him that makes you a bit afraid. Just a little nervous whenever he raises his voice or hums disarmingly. You don’t want to disappoint him, anxiety filling every bit of your existence when you think about this – he is doing so much, he has serious work and all you do is gush over housework and trying to play a role you were not made for. Never thinking how hard being a housewife might be. 
— You’re going to just take off it now? 
You freeze in place, not sure of how to answer. Nanami chuckles. You don’t want him so close to you, touching you like you’re in love – but he is hurt, stressed and covered in blood. He is  lonely man, you can understand this – who else would invite a girl to live with him because he spends so much time working outside of the house, he’d disappear for days on end and someone had to take care of the house? if he had a partner then, surely, you wouldn’t be here. It must be hard, for someone like him – but he seems so nice, so hardworking, despite the initial strictness…why is he single? 
You don’t feel comfortable with his chin resting on your shoulder, but you’re forcing yourself to relax. He had such a hard day, and he is still hurt. You might as well indulge him a little. 
— I don’t think it would be polite.
— Why not?
His hands slowly unbutton the lowest part of the shirt, the one that is hanging way below your stomach. He is not revealing any skin – but the feeling of his calloused fingers even through the fabric is a bit much to handle. 
— I’m a guest at this house. Wouldn’t want to embarrass the owner, right? His hand goes to grasp a few more buttons, making you stiffen. You don’t…don’t particularly want his hands in that area – almost under your chest, with a single brush of fingers enough to make you feel hot. Throbbing. Enough to make you question everything you know about him and…other things. You want to be a good guest, to not overstay your welcome – but it seems like the lines are getting more and more blurry each time. — I wouldn’t mind seeing you without it. — I’m really sorry I took it without asking you…
— You can get punished for it later. But…
Nanami presses his mouth on your neck, inhaling your scent. You smell like him – his cologne, his shower gel, the fabric softener he uses for his shirts, all the expensive things he knows you don’t have money for. You’re relying on his kindness and, well, he can be kind…if you’re willing to be good to him, of course. Good, obedient, and pretty girls deserve their rewards, after all. He has the perfect idea for just the one right now. You whimper when you feel his lips on your skin, when he nibbles on the sweet spot at the back of your neck. It can’t be mistaken for normal affection now – not with the way he keeps unbuttoning your shirt until there is barely enough to cover your breasts. His hand lays on your stomach, warmness spreading across the skin…there isn’t a lot you can do now. Your thoughts are mixed now, not sure of what to do to make him stop or to let him keep going. — Nana…no, Kento, I’m not really sure about… — Quiet, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes, okay? 
You sigh, allowing him to just…touch you. Get sated with the feeling of your body in his arms – you don’t know how much time had passed, but he just rubs soothing circles into your stomach and breathes, occasionally peppering your neck with kisses. 
You want him to go further. 
You want him to stop. Maybe, it was just a few more minutes. Maybe, he took his time – you on;y woke up from that hazy, dream-like state when he suddenly yanked the rest of your shirt off, revealing your braless chest to the cold air of the house. You wanted to cover yourself – but your slow motions didn’t do you enough justice, as he easily grabbed your wrist in one of his hands. 
He kisses you again, and you move your head to the side to meet his lips. You don’t know what you want – you want to help him, to make his worries go away, but he is still smelling of blood and rust and you’d like to draw him a bath first. Maybe take care of him there. Maybe grab your things and run even though it would mean you’d be homeless. You can feel his erection pressing to the curve of your ass and you move involuntarily, sliding up and down – maybe in an attempt to escape, maybe in an attempt to allure. You want for him to say something, to command you to do something – be more forceful, be more kind, make everything better, and then do it much, much worse. You sigh, trying to just…
The phone is ringing. 
You manage to read the name. You wonder who the hell is Gojo Satoru. — I apologize for this. – Nanami whispers in your ear, getting away from you. Still keeping a hand on your waist, holding you down as firmly as possible. Not that you have any strength left in your legs to go anywhere. You’re waiting for Nanami to finish the call. Something is telling you that he just found a way to make you pay for staying with him for so long.
441 notes · View notes
brightbertalt · 3 months
Text
just please teach me
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michael gavey x bimbo!reader
authors note - i can’t resist this man…..he’s so nerdy and hot. also meant for female!reader
warnings - dumbification, kinda mean michael, a little praise, degradation, perv!michael, the word slut, breeding kink, accidental breeding?
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god michael couldn’t wait for this.
it was your first tutoring session with him. after your failed your first math test of the semester, you decided to get some help from the smartest man you knew, who also happened to sit next to you.
“hey, you’re like super smart right?”
you asked him, peeking over at the 100% on his test. he turned his head, internally surprised you were even talking to him.
“uh, yeah. yeah i am. do you need help?”
you nodded, pouting and practically shoving your test in his face.
“i can’t even believe it! i got a 53% on this test, it was like, super hard!”
you complained, crossing your arms; which just so happened to push up your breasts. they looked so good in that tight tank top you were wearing.
“you’re asking me to tutor you?”
you scoffed out of frustration.
“duh! i don’t wanna fail!”
he was going to be your tutor. it sounded like music to his ears. michael gavey was going to be personally teaching the cutest girl he knew.
and annoying.
you yourself weren’t annoying, but the fact that someone like you, who probably didn’t even know which direction an x axis pointed, could get into oxford university. probably on a huge helping of daddy’s money is what he thought. unlike him, who actually earned his place. nonetheless, he would tutor you.
he could have some fun with that.
he saw this situation in porn all the time. dumb schoolgirl goes to someone like himself to get help, and they end up fucking like rabbits. he didn’t have any experience with women in person, but he figured porn was close enough to the real thing, right?
he wondered how sweet your voice would sound begging for him.
“sooooo, does my place sound good? i have such a cute setup it’s like, unbelievable! and im free around 6 tonight.”
“yeah, of course. i guess ill be over then..!”
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he knocked on your door, trying to stop his hands from shaking. he adjusted his glasses, waiting for you to open the door.
“mikey! you’re here!”
you opened the door and hugged him. he tried not to audibly moan from the sensation of your boobs pushing against him.
“just michael is fine!”
he blurted out, nervous that you were this close to him. would he even be able to survive this night?
“i dont have any extra chairs, so we can just study on my bed! how’s that?”
you asked, walking in your dorm and sitting on your bed.
he wouldn’t be able to survive. you said that so innocently, as if you didn’t understand what two people could do on a bed. as he walked over to your bed, he didn’t expect anything different. it was adorned with pink pillows and a huge fuzzy pink blanket. it was so you.
“the thing I wasn’t really understanding was number seven. i don’t even know where to start!”
he nodded, grabbing his supplies out of his bag. how could she not understand this one? it was the easiest by far. nonetheless, he explained it in the most basic way he could. you nodded, pretending to understand.
“okay, now you try.”
you smiled dumbly, attempting to try it on your own. you stopped shortly thereafter, flipping the pencil in your hand.
“i just don’t get it michael! maybe math just isn’t for me..”
you leaned in closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. you felt defeated. defeated by some numbers on a page. he sighed in annoyance. he did like this feeling, but he didn’t like your dumb little brain. maybe he could take advantage of that. he only dreamed of that, though. tricking you into pleasing him. giving you a ‘reward’ for finally get 100% on your tests. you’d probably love that too.
“ill probably drop math. its too hard! i dont know how you do it. you’re so smart michael.”
“well you’re not even trying are you? you just have to think, y/n!”
“i am so trying!”
you loosely hugged michael. he could feel himself starting to get hard. why’d you have to be so handsy with him?
“thanks for helping me though! you’re so smart michael.”
he felt himself twitch in his pants. he couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t take the teasing anymore.
you felt his lips press against your own soft, glossed lips. he pulled away quickly, already preparing for the worst. you would push him off your bed, throw his bag at him and yell at him to leave. instead, you grabbed his sleeve.
“please don’t leave mikey.”
how could he refuse you?
he moved closer to you, going in for another kiss. you were an aphrodisiac. so irresistible. made for him to fuck.
you shook your head, kissing all over his face.
“it’s totally fine, please just stay here.”
he gently pushed you down onto the bed, kissing and sucking on your neck. fuck, you were so nice. your skin was so soft and plush, and your voice sent him into a spiral.
“is this your first time mikey?”
“y-yeah. i know you probably think that’s pathetic or weird or-“
“mikey. please just fuck me. i don’t care.”
those were the sweetest words he ever heard. he could cum right then and there.
“god, fuck, can i ask you something?”
he asked.
“are you on birth control?”
you shook your head. fuck, for some reason that was even hotter.
“ill pull out, don’t worry.”
you nodded, noticeably absentminded. you were so dumb, and it was so cute to him. he was known around campus for his smarts and talent in math. and now he had, which was quite possibly, the dumbest girl at his university under his thumb. it felt so good.
“i trust you mikey.”
he smirked as he pressed continuous kisses into your neck and chest, experimentally pushing his hands underneath your cute tank top and groping your breasts. you whined underneath him, taking your top and yanking it over your head to expose your chest.
“you’re so cute. just let me take care of you, okay?”
he licked and sucked on your chest, trailing his way down your body until he got to your little cute shorts. god this boy was a freak. you helped him get your shorts off of you, exposing your bare cunt to him. you squeezed your legs together, a feeble attempt in covering yourself.
“why be shy now? you already teased me for half the semester.”
you nodded at his remark, leaning your head back. he teased, kissing up your thighs. michael’s smirk was criminal as he placed a gentle kiss on your pussy. you bucked your hips and moaned on him. he gently prodded your entrance with his long fingers, slowly inserting two of them inside you. he chuckled as he moved his fingers in and out.
“mikey i-“
“you’re what? wet as a bloody fountain? because you are.”
you let out a pornstar-esque moan and feebly grabbed in his direction. you needed him inside you.
“mikey please just fuck me! please!”
you shouted out, rocking your hips into his fingers gently. he grinned and stood up to take off his pants, as well as unzipping his coat.
“i don’t get it.”
you said bluntly, looking up at him.
“what?”
“your shirt. I don’t get it.”
you pointed to his shirt.
‘not all math puns are awful. just sum.’
you shared a moment of brief awkwardness.
“it’s like how the result of an addition-“
“i didn’t ask for more math! just come over here michael!”
he quickly nodded and took off his stupid shirt, leaving it on the floor next to the bed. he climbed over you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.
“are you sure?”
“please just do it already mikey!”
you whined. he always knew you were bratty. he would love to put you in your place though. he slid himself into you, gasping at the warmth and tightness of your pussy. he slowly slid all the way in, swearing under his breath as he did. you were definitely made for him. so warm, so soft, so perfect. he placed a hand on your lower stomach, feeling himself inside you.
“you’re so warm holy fuck, I can’t believe im inside you right now.”
he blurted out, slowly starting to move. michael was definitely a little above average. so goes the trope of nerdy white guys. the largeness of him made you feel so full, so stuffed. you couldn’t handle it already. tears pricked at your eyes as you slung your legs onto his shoulders. michael wasted no time fucking himself into you, letting out all sorts of lewd noises.
“can’t believe im the one doing this. always thought you’d be with someone like felix, fuck.”
he grabbed at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock. another loud, indecent moan was let out of you.
“im the one fucking you, no one else gets to have this dumb little cunt.”
he tilted his head up, overwhelmed with pleasure.
“im all yours mikey, please just keep fucking me!”
you cried, grabbing onto his hands on your hips. he grabbed your right hand with his left, pressing it right next to your head. his face was right next to yours as well now.
“nothing in that stupid head, huh? nothin’ but me fucking you right now. i always knew you were so simple.”
you clenched around him, leaving him to chuckle under his breath.
“you like that? me calling you dumb? knew you were a slut.”
michael’s smartass attitude definitely never left him. you shook your head unconvincingly. you did like it, but being a brat was so fun.
“i know you like it. you already feel like you’re gonna cum on me. poor little thing. probably forget everything you learned this semester just from this.”
he said with fake sympathy. it was true, you were close. you could feel his thrusts getting more erratic and needy, so you knew he was too. you just remembered you were supposed to have a math lesson today. oh well. you could always just google the answers.
“I don’t think im gonna be able to pull out, you’re so fucking warm and tight I can’t-“
you immediately came to your senses. you were admittedly dumb, but not dumb enough to let michael cum in you.
“michael please pull out-“
“i- fuck!”
he abruptly came inside you, his jaw slack as he aggressively rammed his hips into yours a few more times. the sensation of his filling you up was too much, and your orgasm shortly followed. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.
“im so sorry y/n, you just-“
“ill figure it out mikey, just hold me.”
and he did. he laid on his side as he traced his thumb on your belly. you fell asleep soon thereafter, together.
464 notes · View notes
irisintheafterglow · 6 months
Text
blood moonlit, must be counterfeit
summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)
wc: 1.68k
cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol
note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”
“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”
“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”
“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 
The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 
“Who’d you come to the party with?”
“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”
“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.
“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 
“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”
“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”
“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”
“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”
“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.
“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt…” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 
“What about him?”
“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 
“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 
“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”
“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.
“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 
“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”
“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”
“Figured what out?”
“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 
Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 
“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“See what, gorgeous?”
“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.
Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 
“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”
“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”
“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 
“If someone messes with us?”
“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 
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g0niki · 3 months
Text
taste tester── y.jw p.js
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pairing: bf!jungwon x reader x jay
word count: 1.9k
contents: no protection (wrap it up 😓), oral (m&f receiving), light pussy slapping, finger sucking, slight exhibitionism, light size kink, jw is a little mean🫶
a/n: I haven't written in a long time and quite literally wrote this at 3am, feedback and comments would be appreciated! i am very nervous to post this.
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jungwon had jokingly mentioned having a threesome with jay on multiple occasions before, and every time without fail you had said no… but at this moment you were reconsidering.
jay's in the kitchen cooking up something for you and won since you're the only ones home at the moment, won showering and leaving you to watch jay with a focused pout resting on his face as he cuts up the meat and throws it to a bowl on the side. 
you never really understood what your boyfriend saw in jay, sure they were close but he wasn’t all that... 
ok, jay was all that, he is all that. the way his hands moved as he worked on the meal was making you feel some kind of way, your thighs slightly rubbing under the table imagining him holding you down so firmly and having you squirming... so maybe you wanted jay to join... just once though!
you wouldn't even have to tell won, coming out of the bathroom hair wet and clothes hanging off his body loosely, jungwon isn't an idiot,
jungwon can immediately tell just what you're thinking by observing you from afar, knowing that you're having conflicting thoughts at the moment, he'd come up from behind you and wrap his arms around you, kissing your neck and speaking into it 
"feeling hungry pretty?"
the pet name alone was enough to let you know exactly where his mind is, gulping down at his tone. he'd place one last kiss on your throat, sitting down next to you and lightly patting his lap, definitely up to no good. 
"cmere I’m cold" he'd use a pouty voice,, to anyone else it would seem like he's being his usual clingy self but this alone was enough to make your mouth dry. you could never say no to sitting on your boyfriend’s lap though, immediately scooting over and sitting on top of him, he'd wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder, pulling you back against him.
"look pretty, isn't jay hyung so nice to us" oh you were fucked "should we watch him cook?"
won pushing your hair behind your ear and lightly biting on it causing you to push your hips back on him.
"be quiet, wouldn’t wanna break his focus" You can hear the fake pout in his voice, feeling his hands massage your thighs as he now kisses your shoulder, letting his tongue trace against the bare skin and lightly sucking now and then.
"look at him, trying to do us a favor yet all you can do is squeeze your pretty little thighs shut and stare. it's rude to not help."
you wanted to bang your head on the table in front of you,, won being so close to touching you over your shorts yet continuously teasing you right behind jay's back. 
"jay's missing out on the best entrée right here." finally, won's hand is lightly tracing your clit. your thighs squeezing around his hand desperately and a small sound leaving your throat, his glancing over his shoulder to check on you.
"sorry.. hit my knee"
"be careful,, dinners almost done"
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
needless to say, that was the quietest dinner you had ever experienced, thighs sticking together as you picked at your plate. jay watching you with an eyebrow arched up, he knew you were picky but you usually loved it whenever he cooked.
"something wrong?" 
his voice slightly makes you jump, unable to even look at him in the moment.
"yeah, what's wrong pretty?"
and of course, jungwon had to play dumb, you could see the smile he was biting back and as much as you wanted to be upset with him he was so badly turning you on.
"nothing just-" and before you could finish your sentence won's hand is back against your thigh, tracing shapes against it "nothing." 
jay leaves it at that.. picking up his plate and walking over to the sink still just as confused as a moment ago but not willing to press any further.
"actually, y/n had a question for you hyung!"
you had never wanted to strangle your boyfriend more than right now.
watching as jay turned around and fondly stared at the two of you.
"yeah, what's up?"
you were out of words, staring with your mouth open not able to play off the situation.
"tell him, baby, you know what we talked about, ask him."
jungwon pushed you closer to the topic, a smile on his face as his hand continued to brush against your thigh, usually, this would be comforting but in this moment your heart was sinking, and you were throbbing.
“y/n, you can ask me anything you know"
and hearing jay be so ready to cater to you was almost enough to get a sob to leave the back of your throat.
"ask him pretty, or i will." the small smile on won's face was enough to send shivers down your spine, goosebumps coming up all over.
"jay... would you want to help us out.." and gosh you felt like you could hear your voice quivering as you asked, you had never been more nervous than right now. 
"... with?"
"don't play dumb hyung. I can see you holding back right now."
your stomach sank. won definitely knew a lot more than he let on, you had never heard him be so harsh towards jay before and it was leaving you soaking. 
"just look at her hyung, look at how she needs you, how badly she wants us."
hearing won talk about you like you weren't even there was honestly a bit overwhelming, you could feel your face and ears getting how wanting to do nothing but hide behind your hands and forget this was even happening. 
"let her say it won, talk to me y/n."
you were going to have to swallow your pride for this one…
"could you fuck me.."
"look at me when you're talking. ask again."
"could you fuck me." and that was all the two of them needed to hear. 
within minutes they had you back in the room, clothes nowhere to be found as you were pressed up between the two of them.
"isn't she so pretty hyung,"
won was behind you holding your legs open and letting jay enjoy the view, jay twisting your nipples and watching how the light touch caused the puddle between your legs to grow even more.
"you weren't kidding when you said she was sensitive."  
hearing the brief mention that jungwon had discussed you with jay before sending your mind into a spiral. laying back as won moved from behind you and onto the chair next to the bed. 
"why don't you put it in hyung, i wanna watch."
you'd never seen won like this before, he looked almost ravenous, his mouth almost watering as he watched. you couldn't take your eyes off of him, taken aback by his current state.
"you too pretty, watch while he puts it in." 
won's hand coming behind your head and forcing you to look down on yourself. jay lining up with your folds and cursing out above you.
"she looks so small, you sure she can take it?"
"even if she can't she will."
and that was enough for jay to push into you, the slight stretch making you bite down on your lip, he wasn't very different from won in size but he was thicker. won's hand holding your own as you both watched jay sink inside you.
"look at that pretty," and god did jay feel good inside you. his hands gripping your hips tightly and pushing them down into the mattress as he took a deep breath.
Won” fuck i'm gonna break her won." 
"do it, she likes it" 
won gently pushing your hair out of your face, moving around so that he was now above your head. 
"don't you pretty?"
you had your eyes pressed together tightly, entirely overwhelmed by everything, and won's dick standing above your head was not helping in any sort of way. 
"you think you could multi-task.”
you couldn’t even answer at this point, jay roughly thrusting into you and using you like a toy, rambling on about how good you feel and he could've never imagined being able to be inside you.
won now holding both your wrists and watching as jay pounded into you, your release dripping all around him and your back fighting to arch against jay's push on your hips.
"pretty open for me before i make him stop."
the idea of jay stopping now was enough to make you sob, jaw immediately falling slack for won. 
"there we go,"
won immediately filling your throat and admiring the slight bulge he made in your throat.
"look hyung, everything about her is just sooo small" jay reached up to trace the bump in your throat causing you to clench around him.
"fuck don't do that i'll cum" jay moved his hand from your neck to slap down on your clit and making your body jolt. won hadn't done that before but you'd be asking him to do it again.
won wrapping his hands around your throat and fucking into you is all too much, you rapidly clenched around jay cumming for who knows what time and causing jay to fill you up with no warning.
"shit, my bad-"
jay pulled out watching his fluid seep out, using his fingers to scoop some up and bring it to his lips.
"fuck won you've gotta taste this."
won pulled out leaving you to whine,  but you quickly shut up after seeing him take jay's two fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of the two of you.
"fuck, it’s missing something.” 
won immediately moving to take jay's previous spot between your legs and quickly shoving himself into you, not taking your sensitivity into mind, his only objective being to fill you up even more. 
jay moved down to your stomach and worked his way up, finding his nipple in your mouth and sucking around it while his right hand fondled the other.
you could’ve sworn won was using all his strength on you, your body bouncing up and down as you tried to take even just a second to breathe, fighting to not scream. your hand coming up to jay's head and pulling onto his hair causing him to bite down on your tit.
"be nice,” he growled between his teeth.
jay pulls back to admire his work and watches jungwon finish the two of you off, taking himself into his hand in hopes of finishing himself off another time. 
"jay you better hurry up because i'm almost done."
won bringing his hand down to play with your clit in hopes of finishing you off alongside him, his thrust getting shallow and sporadic yet doing just enough to have you spilling around him, the noises leaving your throat being enough for jay to finish all over your abdomen and won filling you up nicely.
won pulling out slowly trying not to overstimulate you even more than you already are, lowering his face down to your cunt and licking up as much as he can.
he pulls you into a kiss, swapping the fluid between your mouths as jay watches with his jaw agape. 
pulling apart breathless 
"mm, tastes much better."
ᯓ★
@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.
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lieutenantsluvr · 3 months
Text
༉‧₊˚✧
❝ cough medicine & kisses ❞
pairing : sick!simon riley x fem!reader
tags : NSFW, Undefined relationship. (Unprotected p in v, mentions of overstimulation.)
Synop : sub!simon who isn't actually a sub, but just so overworked he wants to fuck himself dumb.
w/c 3.8k
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Sick. It’s a word you never thought you’d hear from your Captain’s mouth. “Sick?” You repeat, like a broken record. It only earns a small nod from Price, followed by a short breath of annoyance. Yeah, Okay. You can practically read the older man's mind, “Go check on him yourself if you’re so worried.” Is what he would say if he had any less humanity in him. But, he saves you the hit to your already fragile ego. Did you even want to see Simon? The feeling of seeing him in a state any less of… cold? makes your stomach churn in an uncomfortable turmoil. 
Softly knocking on the door to his barrack, peeling your knuckles away from the cold wood frame. Noise within his barrack ceases, only for a few seconds before you hear a groan. Followed by a cough. Maybe two, or three more. Simon opens the door. He's still sporting his usual balaclava - But, his eyes are deep, darker and glossy. Dark circles line the bottom of his lids, similar to that of a raccoon. Blonde hair slightly tufted up, messily sprawled over his head. Sure enough, he looks sick as a dog. 
"What do you want?" He asks, his voice an octave lower than it usually is. Still dark, gravelly, but it has more ache to it. The way his voice strains almost sends you to your knees. Vulnerable. It’s the only word that comes to mind as you look at him right now. Would he tear the limbs from your body if he knew you thought of him this way? Absolutely. But, as much as the big brute tries… you care for him nonetheless. “I’m here to check up on you.” You state, voice coming out a little bit more weakly than anticipated. Nice one. You try to recover, eyes briefly flicking somewhere else in the dimly lit hallway to escape his unrelenting gaze down. “You haven’t come out of your room in two days,” You add with a small tut of your lips, breaking the silence that seems to only make you uncomfortable. “Have you been eating?”
“I don’t need a nurse.” He states, flatly. His eyes languidly trail against your body, as if sucking up every detail, and then spitting it back out. Simon has taken a comfortable position in his doorway, his arm hiked up above himself to lean against the frame of the door. He has a fever. In fact, you know he has a fever. Tiny sweat beads forming above his brow, barley in sight from the way his balaclava is messily dragged across his face. He heaves for a second, as if trying to conceal a cough. Then, he spits it out - Coughing again, throat dry and raw. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, blinking away the blur that choked itself into his vision. “And, I eat when I feel like it.”  Despite the sickness, he doesn't step down from his authoritative role. Big fuckin’ baby. 
“I can practically feel your fever from here.” You huff, a quick folding of your arms to defend yourself from his princess attitude. “Have you taken medicine?” You continue, feeling the urge to take care of him swirl in your gut. No, you weren’t a mommy to the men of the taskforce, but more often than not, you found yourself stirring up a pot of soup to soothe their aching throats. Or placing a cold cloth on their foreheads when they ignored the chill in their bones. As much as you loved to tease them about their uselessness when it came to taking care of their bodies, part of you actually enjoyed the play. Okay, maybe you were mommy. 
“I can take care of myself, thank you.” He chuffs, a small wheeze from his constricting lungs. You can feel the heat radiate from his body. The smell radiating from the inside of his barrack is deep, and musky. A mixture of his sweat and natural scent. Something about it makes your skin rise, and your heart scutter. You remind yourself that he’s sick, and probably wouldn’t take too kindly to the thought of getting you sick either. The sound of him clearing the phlegm from his throat quickly pulls you from your thoughts - now, no longer turned on. . . just a little more empathetic, you sigh. It’s like the man can feel your persistence from where you stand in the doorway. You just won’t back down. His head slightly lowers, eyes shutting for a second before they reopen and stare back at you. “No.” He says, flatly. All you do is quirk an eyebrow in wake of his question, and he’s shifting in front of you. Clearly his sickness is wearing down his resolve, and he’s almost submitting to your obvious request to take care of him. It's like a cowboy stand-off. Two idiots staring each other down, too stubborn to admit they just want to cuddle. 
The stare is only broken as he wheezes out a choked out cough, eyes fluttering shut against the tears that build against his lid. “Fine,” Another cough, “You win.” He slides his arm down from the frame of the doorway, fingers flexing for a moment before resting at his sides, now unmoving. A single stare, until he crosses the room to his bed, sitting on the edge - almost robotically. Clearly he’s uncomfortable with your presence. Clearly he’s uncomfortable even having someone in his room. 
You step into the room, eyes taking in the unfamiliar sight. A sight you’ve honestly been dreaming of. It’s a larger room, one that comes from the privilege of being Lieutenant. There aren’t really any decorations, perhaps a plant or two. Mixtures of grays and blacks littering the color scheme of his room. From there, your eyes drift to his bedside table - a tiny bite of what seems to be four crackers on a paper plate, an empty glass of water, and a multitude of used tissues. Not the… good kind of used. Nonetheless, your brain wracks with the sudden realization. He’s sick. Not just, sniffly, but genuinely sick. 
“Go on,” You prompt, a soft wave of your hand, “Lay down.” He’s quick to obey you, though, not without protest. He grumbles to himself, incoherent sick whining. Eyebrows furrowed, and an ached whine as he slides himself into bed. “I’m not tired.” He chuffs, but even he knows that’s bullshit. His eyes are barely opened, glassy, and the dark circles that line them almost look painful. “You’re tired.” You reply, knowingly. It’s a quick walk across the room, opening his bathroom door and searching for a washcloth. Once found, you wet the rag, wringing it from excess water and then trotting back over to the side of his bed. Eyes falling down on his sicken frame, you see the way his muscles contract with every labored breath. Simon seems in pain. His scowl visibly softens, his eyes flicking between the soft hold you have on the rag, and your face. A quick quirk of your eyebrow, as if saying, are you going to let me do this? His eyes lower, and a pained chuff emits itself from his scratchy throat. You’re already at the side of his bed, there’s no stopping you now. “I’m not a child.” He reminds you, though, it’s clear he could use the coddling. “Yes,” You begin, leaning over and lowering the cloth to his forehead, “Such a big boy.” Tone lacking malice, and only harboring love for the sick man. He's stubborn - even as sick as he is, Simon doesn't want to be babied, even if he knows he desperately needs it. He keeps his lips clamped tight, trying to stay stoic. Stilling even when he feels the cool washcloth press to his forehead, when his skin is flushed and on fire. It takes a great deal of willpower to stay quiet when the cool cloth soothes his aching body. He's breathing deep, and slow now. It doesn't matter how he feels about you, his body needs the rest. 
He’s out like a light. Unmoving, and slow breathing. Broad shoulders, and firm chest rising with every sickly breath he inhales and exhales. A quick glance around the room, and you plan your next attack. Simply cleaning up his barrack, and preparing him a small meal. Though, the tasks do take awhile, having thoroughly cleaned the place. It’s the least you could do. Right? 
It wasn't until he stirred in bed that you finally approached him again, a small groaning emitting from his lips as he stretched the sleep from his aching muscles. “Hey..” You cooed, fingers haunting the area of his forehead to check his temperature. He was still quite warm, definitely entering the cusp of breaking the fever, but still quite sick. His eyes take a moment to register your presence, glossed honeyed gaze rising up and taking in your concerned gaze. 
“You stayed?” The words were like a knife to your gut, twisting, sinking, and ripping it out. Stayed? Why the hell wouldn’t you stay? The realization hits you even harder, a freight train dragging your body the whole span of the track. “Of course,” You sigh, your hand softly trailing down his face, thumb grazing in wake of his jawline, “Why would I leave?” The touch brings him peace. A wake of molten arising on his very skin, eyes clamping shut. Your touch - It's a gentle, comforting gesture, one you seldom see in your line of work. “I don’t know.” He croaks out after a moment, eyes only opening enough to watch as your thumb ghosts the fabric of his balaclava.  He wants to respond, he can feel the words forming at the tip of his tongue. But, they're caught when she drags her thumb down his chin again. He swallows hard, looking around for a way to avoid a response, but finds none. “Shut up,” You interrupt before he can grasp on to the feeling in his chest, “Take this.” 
You’re quick to reach over to the bedside table, handing him one or two pills from the bottle, and holding the glass of ice water in your other hand. He looks at it, awkwardly before taking the medication from your palm. His hand raises to his balaclava, hooking a thumb underneath and raising it up just enough to place the pills on his tongue. You try not to look. Keyword, try. Soft stubble from days of not shaving, sharp jawline, and lips full enough to lay claim against. He notices, of course. He notices everything. Eyes flicking down your face, then down to the glass of water. Simon takes hold of it, his fingers grazing against your own as he slips the glass into his own hand. The contact sends shivers down your body, now aching from the servitude you’ve dove into. It’s like fucking shell-shock, the way his touch rattles up and down your nervous system, until the only thing you can think about is pushing him against the bed, and stuffing down on his cock so- “Are ya gonna give me the glass?” He mutters, a slight pressure as he tries to take the glass. You sputter, only for a moment, before letting him take it. Simon makes quick work to the glass, putting it to his now, unclothed lips, and taking a few swigs - soft drops of water forming against lips. Lips so soft you can almost feel the sensation. Lips so soft you can hear the demons in your head screaming to roll it between your teeth. 
You avert your gaze, hushing the demons that claw themselves from the pit of your stomach. It was like something in your body shifted - a sense of you shouldn’t be here eating up your consciousness. Quickly, you stand up, eyes flicking over only to catch the clink of Simon setting down the glass. “Where are you off too?” His words are thin, and hoarse, as if he can barely speak against the sickness building inside of him. You actually had no clue where you were going, only crossing over to the kitchen to make yourself look busy. Being away from him was helping, though, the butterflies in your stomach pitter pattering against gummy insides. “Just gonna do some of your dishes, no big deal.” You chide, the heat you once felt on your back from his stare very quickly becomes real heat. “Why are you acting weird?” Simon asks, placing a hand down on the countertop beside you, his body loosely caging your presence. You could walk away, simply move from the spot you’re in, and he’s giving you that option. But you don’t. “You’re sick, go lay down.” You usher, trying to get him to back up. Hand slipping to push on his waist, only a little, fingers barely grazing the fabric of his tight gray t-shirt. He’s quick with his movement, a single hand snapping up to grab hold of your wrist - the same wrist linked to a hand pressed a little higher than his hip. “I thought you were nursing me back to health, yeah?” He chuffs, the reverberating ache in his throat causing his usual tone to deepen by an entire octave. So, there he is, caging you to the kitchen countertop. A hand on your wrist, and the other placed against the granite, fingers visibly curling. I might just take him on this countertop, you think to yourself, the demons practically chewing on the bars of your brain. Deep in thought, he takes a small movement in your daze, his hand cascading up from your wrist to your shoulder - a soft grip, but one that still drips of possession. “I asked you a question.” He asks, head dipping down to meet your height. Dilated pupils, a small form of sweat against his brow, and the remaining flush of his fever. His jaw is clenched so tight you swear it’ll stay locked like that forever. It’s really the only tell that he’s affected by the sight of you. The warmth dripping from his body is scorching. Tickling down your entire body, as he inches and inches closer it’s like molten lava clawing at your very flesh. But, there isn’t a single syllable you’re able to utter in response. You don’t know why you react this way when he’s close. You don’t know why you feel your heart slam against your ribcage when you make eye contact. You don’t know why you wish to map out the entirety of his back and use your hands as the ink that cascades down on paper. “I don’t know.” A simple, and blunt answer falling from your still parted lips. 
“Well, figure it out, yeah?” Simon chuffs, before leaning back. The sudden loss of heat is what gets you, knees practically buckling from the cool air kissing at your skin. His eyes drift down, still glassy, and far - but, looking at you, nonetheless. “Si,” You utter, softly. It’s like the gods got tired of looking at the way you pathetically stare at him - deciding, hey, give this one a little push. He tenses, an almost growl as he glances down at you. Fuck, that nickname. “You’re right,” You murmured, feeding into his words, hand sinking back down against his hip, “Let me take care of you.” 
It was like an apparition entered his fucking body. In seconds, hands your wrist, backing you up into the countertop. He falters for a moment, head dipping down to your shoulder - an almost soft inhale of the shampoo you use. The smell alone is practically creating a tent against his sweatpants. Finger curling against your wrists. You glance up at him, only seconds as you catch those dangerous honey-like irises inspecting you. Dilation. Quick to hike up his mask, he kisses you. It’s messy, desperate, and almost clumsy. Giving in, you part your lips - an immediate attack of his teeth drawing in your bottom lip, biting down with a force. Groaning into the kiss, he pushes his hips against yours - the cold granite of the countertop pressing into your lower back. A desperate, “Fuck..” as he flattens his tongue against your teeth. Being sick has obviously caused something in his brain to rewire, something to calm the constant ache in his head - or the warmth your body projects feels like healing. 
His hands cascade up to your hips, a tight grip as he lifts you - almost effortlessly even in contrast to his sicken state. Almost delirious, setting you down on the bed - hands attacking the hem of your own sweatpants. “Lovie,” Simon exhales through a tight groan, fingers shimmying down the fabric to your ankles, “need this… ‘so fuckin bad.” Maybe it’s the cough medicine rewiring his brain, but he’s practically whimpering for your touch. You feed into his head, hand lazily dragging down the fabric of both his sweatpants, and boxers. Obviously, he’s not going to go for any sort of foreplay. He’s too fucked dumb, eyes desperately searching your gaze as you realize just how drunk he wants to get off of your pussy. His hand slides up to the valley between your breasts, pushing down until your back hits the soft plush of the mattress. “so ‘fuckin pretty.” A tightening of his hands against your hips. His eyes flick down, simply just staring at the state of that pretty fucking pussy. A bite to his bottom lip, before placing himself against you. Still watching you closely, he drags the crown of his cock up and down in slow lines - shuddering against the slickness that oats your entrance. 
The sight continues to make him whine. He’s practically teasing himself at this point, only using your body as a means to soothe the sick ache in his head and push his cum so deep into your cunt that he’s the only thing you’ll think of for weeks. You stare up at him, hips circling slowly to further the teasing he plants upon himself. The hand not placed against his cock is quick to snap against your stomach, pushing down until you reside still on the bed. Oh. The crown of his cock latches against your entrance, a shudder from his flesh as he pushes his hips against yours. The motion is slow, sensual and you can practically feel the air leaving your body against the fit. Tight. “fuck, lovie.. ‘so good.. ‘so fuckin good..” Simon whines, his head tipping back from where he stands. The build up is astronomical, in and in, and.. In, until you almost can’t believe he’s not even halfway fucked into you. The tight fit sends electricity to every nerve in your body, gummy walls barely able to clamp together as they get filled. “Fuck, Si-” You choke out in hesitance, only for it to be met with another whine from his throat. Somewhere between a cry, and a whine, he lowers his torso down to meet yours - within seconds he’s buried fully inside of you. 
He’s plunging into you like a man starved. Back, and forth - creating his own whimpers. He likes to drag it out, pulling his cock all the way out, leaving only the tip - stirring there for a moment until his own body constricts, and then slamming in as hard as possible. Hands vice gripped around your thighs, bringing you to and from him like a pocket pussy. “fuck, such a good girl.. Oh my god..” Simon whines, his face burying itself deep into your locks, inhaling deeply to consume every last fiber of your scent. Lazily gasping between every fluid motion of his hips, clumsiness peeking around the corners as he fucks into you. “oh, lovie.. jus’ what I need.. ‘so fuckin good.” He whines again, his hand curling into a fistful of your hair just to stop himself from jerking about. Simon constricts for a moment, pulling out, and then circling his tip at your entrance - his body twitches, and convulses as if overstimulating himself on purpose. Pussy sloppy around him, already drenching the area between you two - wet squishing noises as he drags back the mixture of pre and slick, just to bury it back inside of you. “sweet girl, oh fuck.. fuck..” He sputters out again, another whine into the crook of your neck as he clumsily slams his hips down against yours. What the fuck was in this cough medicine. Lifting himself up, a hand placed at the side of your head, fingers curling into the sheets. His eyes trail down to your connection, and now you’re painfully aware of just how pussydrunk he’s become. Bottom lip taken between his teeth, glossy eyes staring down at the sight of his cock sliding in and out. “Up.” He shudders out, his other hand slipping from the sheets and placing itself behind your lower back, holding you up against the edge of the bed. His knee sinks up onto the comforter, and now he’s plunging into you even deeper. Fucking the same spot, over and over again - abusing the gummy wall he seems to be intent on murdering. “sweet girl,” He practically wheezes, the reminiscent of his sore throat, “just like that ‘yeah.. milk my ‘fuckin cock.” You’re too busy blissfully indulging in the art piece in front of you. A man, who is usually cold and stoic, so pussy drunk he’s whining. 
The feeling is quick, sweeping, and hits like a freight train. Your insides curl into a tight coil, and release like the snap of a rubber band. A simple, “S-Si!” Sputters from your mouth, earning a jagged groan from his throat. Simon’s fucking into you like an animal, rutting in and out to ride out the way you clamp down on him. Practically whining, and crying - every time he pulls out, it earns a quick, “Hnng-” from his tickled throat. “fuck, please.. right there, oh fuck, lovie..” He practically cries out, hips clumsily and weakly slipping against your wet meeting point. A continuation of the rutting, followed by a small cry of relief. He cums, and a lot. So hot and filling it practically burns. Simon continues his sloppy pushes in, and out - using the cum to push deeper, and deeper. He’s a writhing mess on top of you, his muscles twitching and contorting as he grinds out the sensitivity. “Ha- Ha.. fuck, lovie.” A quick sputtering, until his face is once again buried into your shoulder.  Simon doesn’t bother pulling out, instead basking in the heat. Soft, and absentminded twitching of his tight muscles - whimpers still slipping from his mouth as he rests against you. Vulnerable.
“Ya’ tired?” You ask softly, eyes flicking down to see his head still buried in the depths of your hair. A few seconds of silence, before you’re met with a small hum of acknowledgement.
“Alright, big guy, let’s get you a nice shower, yeah?” You chide, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his jawline, fingers making their way down his spine - slight tickling of your nails against the aching muscles.
474 notes · View notes
pedge-page · 1 month
Note
can you write something where pregnant reader has trouble holding her bladder and joel messes with her a bit? 🫶🏻
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife drabble - Hold It
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Notes: This is NOT Piss kink, just a little Joel and Preggo reader torture amusement. I have separate PK x preggo wife request coming up soon
-
The one thing that women aren’t best at as they get older is holding their bladder. When you gotta go, you go.
And the number one thing that having a fat ass baby shoved up your uterus and pushing aside every organ and pressing the full weight of their tiny bodies on—is your fucking already-terrible-to-hold bladder.
Bumping up and down in Joel’s ugly ass truck with suspension that feels like shit because you can feel every single crevice from every single crack in the road does NOT do well for anything except stir up the amount of liquids inside you.
“Joel,” you whisper warningly, legs scrunched together.
Joel knows the difference between your “Joel” with legs scrunched together and the other “Joel” with legs scrunched together.
“You better not have to p—“
“I have to pee!”
He shakes his head with hearty laugh. “I told you to go 30 minutes ago when we were at the stop.”
“I did go,” you retort venomously. “But now I have to go again.”
“We’re 30 miles from the nearest exit. What do you want me to do?”
“Drive faster?!” Are you fucking dumb?
“We’re an hour late as is. I told you—“
“Don’t you dare fucking scold me like a child Joel Miller, this bitch needs to piss and she needs to go right fucking now.”
“You going on the side of the road?” He suggests with half hearted venom.
You whimper and shake your head. You do NOT want to squat down for a piss next to the highway on the road. You wouldn’t do it not pregnant, but definitely definitely not WHILE pregnant.
“Just—just drive faster. And shut up,” you rasp. You hold your hands between your legs and close your eyes, focusing on willing your baby to help you squeeze that lemon for once. “And don’t breathe. Or cough or just —just don’t exist.”
Joel has to wipe his face to hide the smirk on his lips. Your sheer concentration right now, all burled up and shaking side to side has him holding in a laugh.
 He checks his rear view for any signs of cops, then begins to lean into the gas more. You would pay for the turmoil you’re putting his poor truck through—not in any type of obvious payment of course, but in a more satisfying transaction.
Joel balances the wheel with one knee as he opens a bottle of water set on the dash.
He keeps his eyes on the road and makes the loudest, most grating, obnoxious slurping sounds known to man.
Your head slowly rotates towards him as if a killer hawk were seeing prey landed right next to her. He only peeks over and see the absolutely thinnest lined lips on you, and your exceedingly horrifying wide eyes ready to murder him. 
“MMmMM,” he moans, gulping down the bottle with big swallows so you can hear it sloshing down his jugular with each bob.
“You—you shithead,” you snarl.
He raises his eyebrow. “Do you want some?”
You shake your head, neck bowed low because you can’t concentrate on a scolding your asshole husband and holding your urine at the same time.
“M’ gonna ruin your seats.”
He shrugs. “Wouldn’t be so bad. Got all kinds of your juices on here already, what’s another variety to the blend—“
“SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
“Okay okay, I’m pulling off.”
You tumble out of the car before he’s even fully parked, crouching low to the ground begging to God as your last resort to keep. it. In.
Joel just puts his hands on his hips. “You gonna do It through your pants?”
shutupshutupshutupshutup Ohfuckfuckfuck.
He can hear your tiny whimpers, looks down upon his poor little wife and her even tinier bladder about to make a fool of both of them and piss yourself all over your stretchy pants—
He decides you've had enough torture.
“Gas station is 7 feet away, honey.”
You look up and lo and behold, you’re crouched in a parking lot right outside the quaint convenience station, its glowy neon signs and cigarette flyers and “2 for 3” signs illuminating like you had just won the lottery.
“OOHHHH” you gasp, sitting up and holding your vagina in your palm as you wobble into the quaint store like Road Running and down the alley to the bathroom.
Joel comes in afterwards and does the courtesy of buying a few snack for the trip. 
“Pregnant wife,” he muses to the clerk as he slams a few jerky sticks on the counter.
The two of them are startled by a very loud, satisfied moan coming from the women’s toilet room.
The clerk just chuckles and rings up the items.
-
He checks his watch again, tapping his fingers on the wheel impatiently. What the fuck is taking you 20 minutes?
Its not until the gas station door chime goes off outside as the door swings open, and you’re coming out with a 32 oz Big Gulp cup of Frozen Pepsi ICEE while happily waving goodbye to the clerk as you waddle back to the car.
You settle your bumbum into the seat with a little wiggle and slam the truck door closed, sipping away happily with two hands fisting the styrofoam cup.
Joel has one arm over the steering wheel, facing you with a frown and deadpan eyes glancing between you and your cup the size of Africa, your annoying slurps filling the silent car.
You don’t pick up on his silent aggravation at all, offering him a chipmunk smile. “M-ready now,“ you chirp.
He grits his teeth while looking at the cup you can’t even wrap your fingers around. Holds his tongue and doesn’t say anything, faces forward and turns the key into ignition.
-
25 minutes later, with your empty Big Gulp cup rolling around on the floor mat:
“Um, J-Joel,” you warn again, this time voice wavering timidly. “Joel, I have to—“
“NO!” 
- - - -
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354 notes · View notes
dovkss · 10 months
Text
Dumb Bitch
word count: 5.8k
summary: after you pine after him for so long with no luck, Katsuki finally decides to take you as his; thanks to his best friend.
warning: 18+; mean dom! katsuki; dirty talk (ish); oral (m receiving); rough sex; spitting; choking; breath play; degradation; hair pulling; manipulation; dacryphilia; edging; size kink; misogyny; yandere tendencies; kinda ooc, I was having a lot of fun with this one; kinda dubcon-ish?, reader is drunk for the most part; katsuki is an ass; poor eijiro won’t take no for an answer and ends up getting fucked over bc of it; katsuki and ei are basically frenemies
all characters are aged up !!
a/n: my first published fic on this blog omg !! sorry for any mistakes or anything, I kinda rushed this but I enjoyed making this, hope you enjoy reading it :)
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Kirishima stood in the middle of his room with his phone in his hand as a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He knew of your little crush on his best friend and he couldn’t help but want to play cupid. He had the perfect plan, all he needed to do now was execute it. Sure, he knew Bakugou's disdain for you ran deep, but he also couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there could be something more.
Dialing your number, he chuckled to himself, imagining the reaction he’d get out of you. It wasn't long before the ringback tone was cut off by the call connecting. Immediately you greeted him with a voice filled with joy, as usual.
“Hi, Kiri!” you greeted.
“Hey hey! How’s it going?” he asked.
You hummed in delight. He heard tiny giggles in the background. “Great,” you exclaimed. “The girls and I are having a sleepover right now… if you wanna talk to Mina, she’s right here- fuck!”
From the sound of it, you were hit as a sign to shut up. Kirishima chuckled at your guys’ antics. “Well, this is easy enough knowing you’re all in one place! I’m throwing a little get-together this weekend, I want you all to be there!”
It got a little quiet on the other end of the line, the only thing being heard is some shuffling and slight whispers.
“Hmm, who’s all gonna be there?” you asked curiously.
Kirishima smiled. “He’s gonna be there.”
He could almost hear the collective gasp that came from you and your friends. Then it went dead silent. You muted yourself. The redhead imagined your guys’ squeals.
You cleared your throat, going back to trying to act normal, and unmuted yourself. “Count us in, Kiri!” you exclaimed. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Everything was going to plan. You and he said your goodbyes before the call ended. Kirishima couldn’t help but wear a satisfied grin. He knew he had sparked a glimmer of hope within you. The idea of igniting a connection between you and Bakugou excited him. But it was soon dampened when Bakugou stormed into the room with a couple of cans of soda in his hands.
“What the hell was that about?” he asked.
Kirishima knew he couldn’t lie to him. Bakugou knows when he lies. Bakugou set the sodas on the wood floor and grabbed two cans. He tossed one to his friend and opened up his own. He sat on Kirishima’s bed, facing him, awaiting an answer.
Kirishima popped his soda open and took a sip. The room was filled with tense silence, even if it was for only a moment. “I just invited some last-minute people to the party,” he said.
True.
Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed. His intense gaze radiated intense annoyance. “Who?” he questioned some more.
Kirishima winced playfully at Bakugou’s usual harsh response. He would rather intend to pique the ash blonde’s curiosity rather than ignite his ire.
"Don't worry about it, bro. We'll see everybody there!"
For the first time, Bakugou wanted to be wrong. He shook his head in disapproval before chugging down some more of his soda. "You're a fucking idiot, Kirishima. I thought you knew better than to invite her."
Kirishima squinted at Bakugou. "I get that you don't like her, but you're also being way too quick to judge. Get to know her a little better, she isn't who you think she is."
Bakugou scoffed, his voice filled with disbelief. "You think I would waste my time on someone like her? You should know me better than that."
"I just think that maybe-"
"That fucking shallow, attention-seeking whore. I have no interest in girls like her."
Kirishima's expression softened, his voice gentle but firm. "Not cool, man. She's still my friend," he started, "and I think you watch too many movies. Not every girl that cares about how they look on the outside is some dumb bitch."
Bakugou's scowl deepened, frustration etched on his face. "I don't need you playing matchmaker, Kirishima. I can take care of myself."
Kirishima sighed and raised his hands in defeat. "Fine! I'll let it go!" He then offered a small smile to defuse the tension. "Let's focus on getting this shit ready. We need to go out and buy some cups and food and... whatever else I can't think of on the spot right now!"
Bakugou grumbled in agreement. "Whatever. Let's get this shit over with."
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Your shoes clicked softly against the polished floor of the library as you anxiously scanned the aisles of the bookshelves. You were searching for Kirishima and you were in a bit of a rush.
Earlier that morning while you were packing your purse, you realized your beloved wallet, adorned with sparkling rhinestones, wasn't on your vanity. You would never dare forget it; you relied on it because it had every card you could think of in there. And some backup cash.
You rummaged through other bags and drawers, panic rising within you. It was one of your most treasured possessions, something your mother gave you as a gift before you left for college. You desperately needed that wallet, especially now, with an important event just hours away.
Realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. You remembered opening it to pay the pizza delivery man at Kirishima's house the previous day when you were studying with him and the girls. You must've left it behind. You were so stupid!
With a sigh of frustration, you dialed Kirishima's number from your backup flip phone since your main phone was dead. Your fingers trembled lightly as you held it up to your ear, you hoped beyond hope that he had seen it. You didn't expect him to pick up because he wouldn't possibly recognize the number but he did.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Kiri! Hi, how are you? Good? That's great," you greeted eagerly, "um, do you by any chance know if I left my wallet at your place?" You rocked back and forth as you shoved your purse into the front seat of your car, putting your key into the ignition.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Oh, that's yours? The one with a bunch of glitter… crap on it? Yeah, I have it on me right now actually." he said.
You let out a sigh of relief and smiled. "Great, can I pick it up from your right now? I'm kind of in a hurry..."
He chuckled. "Of course! I'll be on campus for a couple more hours, just swing by the library."
With a renewed sense of purpose, you drove to campus. It took you way longer than usual due to traffic, but you made it nonetheless.
You made it to the library and began scanning the room, looking for your friend. The scent of old books filled the air, and the hushed whispers of students studying added an aura of calmness.
You spotted Kirishima in a corner, engrossed in a thick textbook, writing down notes as well, and you made your way toward him. As you approached, your eyes inadvertently fell upon a figure sitting next to him doing the same.
A slightly taller man with spiky blonde hair. You could tell by the way he sat, he was undeniably arrogant. Katsuki Bakugou.
Your heart skipped a beat and a nervous flutter ran through you. You'd heard rumors of his fiery personality. His ability to put anyone who dared to cross his path in their place. You were very curious about him.
"Kiri!" you chirped, flashing a bright smile.
Kirishima looked up from his book and returned the kind gesture. He put his finger up to his lips, reminding you that they were still in a library. You quietly apologized and laughed at yourself.
"It's in my bag, hold on," he whispered. He picked up his backpack from the floor next to him, unzipping it to go through the contents inside.
Your gaze wandered across the library. You tried your best to not look at Bakugou. It was hard not to, though, he was very handsome. Finally, you gave in and turned your attention to him.
You offered a tentative smile. "Hi there! I don't think we've met before."
Bakugou's piercing gaze met yours. He was unimpressed and regarded you as if your presence irritated him. Unbeknownst to you, it did.
Your smile faltered for a moment, but you refused to let his cold demeanor deter you. "I'm a friend of Kirishima's-"
"I know who you are," he responded curtly, his tone laced with thinly veiled contempt.
You felt your cheeks heat up. His voice was so intimidating and so attractive. "Katsuki Bakugou, right? I've heard a lot about you."
His dirty look became more prominent. "Yeah, I've heard enough about you too."
Your heart sank a little at his words. What did he hear? You weren't aware of any rumors of you or anything, and you were kind to everyone. The dummies, weirdos, everyone!
Kirishima chimed in. "Be nice, man," he said as he got up with your wallet in his hand. He handed it to you and you took it from him.
"Thanks so much, Kiri," you said, a sense of relief washing over you. "You have no idea how much I rely on this thing."
He shook his head, his smile showcasing his sharp teeth. "Don’t we all!"
You nodded, your gaze fixed on your reflection in your little compact mirror. "You saved the day, yet again, Kiri. I owe you one."
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Ever since then, you got to know more about Bakugou thanks to Kirishima. How despite what many would believe, he's organized, and a clean freak. How much he hates being around kids yet are so great with them. Just how well he can play the drums or cook.
You thought you were subtle but it was obvious that you longed for Bakugou. It wasn't your fault he was everything you wanted in a man.
He had it all. Hardworking, determined, and confident. It was so sexy. The only problem was that he didn't seem interested at all. If anything, he seemed to despise you. To him, you were just an annoying bug that kept coming back even after being swatted at.
You wanted to win him over. When you knew you would be around him, you purposefully dressed a little sexier. Bending over to grab things even while wearing the shortest skirt that barely covered your ass and tight shirts to enhance your chest and waist.
Bakugou didn't even spare you a sympathetic glance. But you kept going. Tonight was the party and this was your last chance. If you couldn't even do as much as strike up a conversation with him, you told yourself you'd give up. You were too pretty for all this effort to be put into a man. But god, he was so hot.
Your anticipation grew as you and your friends approached Kirishima's house. The usually quiet neighborhood was transformed into a hive of activity. Cars lined the streets and the sound of laughter and music spilled from the open windows. What was meant to be a "get-together" had turned into a Project X party.
"Todoroki, could you go any damn slower?" Mina complained, her seat belt already off.
"You want me to run over these people?" he asked. You giggled, knowing his question was literal.
Mina groaned in annoyance, mumbling a small 'no.' Momo was in the front seat next to her boyfriend. "Don't listen to her, she's just a little impatient."
Finally, Todoroki got you guys to the front of the house. You were the first to get out, followed by Mina coming out behind you. Momo kissed her boyfriend. Then gave him another kiss. Then another.
Mina whined loudly. "Oh my god, Momo! He's just going to park the car! He's not leaving you, come on!"
You leave them behind in silence. As you pushed open the front door, the energy hit you like a tidal wave. Every inch of the house was packed with people, bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music. The air was thick with alcohol, weed, and the hum of people trying to converse over the loud music.
You looked around, mouth agape. You didn't even notice Mina and Momo by your side. Their eyes widened at the sight before them.
Mina leaned in closer to be heard above the noise. "This place is insane!" she exclaimed, her voice barely audible amidst the chaos.
Momo nodded in agreement. "I don't think any of us expected this. Kirishima sure knows how to throw a party."
Your eyes scanned the room in search of the boy. You caught a glimpse of his familiar red hair through the crowd and motioned for your friends to follow.
It was a challenge to move through people. Your face scrunched up in disgust as the air grew warmer. The smell finally getting to you, it was gross. Sweaty bodies rubbed against you as you made your way through. You gagged. The once cozy house had transformed into something completely unrecognizable.
Finally reaching Kirishima's side, you tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and greeted you. It took you a moment before realizing he was shirtless. And his hair wasn't done how it usually was. It was messy and wet.
"What happened here? This was supposed to be a small get-together!" you asked, evidently in disbelief.
Kirishima laughed. "I know! It got a bit out of hand! But hey, more people, more fun, right? By the way, you look gorgeous!"
You wore a corset dress. The bodice was designed with pretty lacing and the mini skirt boasted a slit on each side. The white set was complete with thick stilettos and makeup that accentuated your natural features.
You felt your face get hot and you smiled, giving him a little twirl to show off your outfit. Kirishima dog whistled playfully and handed you a plastic red cup. You looked inside and sniffed it. Alcohol. Strong, strong alcohol.
Taking what Kirishima said, you and your friends were immersed in the lively atmosphere of the party. You all danced; twirling and spinning, laughter blending in with the melodies as you lost yourself.
With a drink in each of your guys' hands, your inhibitions further dissolved, and you found yourselves caught in a whirlwind of euphoria. You clinked cups, toasting to the night, and gulped down the concoction.
Your mind was no longer consumed by thoughts of Bakugou. The weight of your infatuation was lifted, replaced with a sense of liberation. You reveled in the present moment, finding comfort exactly where you were.
Time lost its grip and you were having fun. By the time you were worn out, your cheeks were flushed and the warmth of the alcohol coursed through your veins, the effects beginning to take a toll on your mind and body. What was just an exhilarating atmosphere now seemed overwhelming, your energy dwindling with each passing moment. Your giggles faded and were replaced with yawns that you couldn't stifle.
Kirishima approached you with a concerned look. He gently placed a hand on your head, stroking your forehead with his thumb. "You are exhausted..."
You closed your eyes for a tiny bit of rest and your ability to hold yourself up became harder and harder. Kirishima shooed away some random person off the couch to make some room for you. He helped you sit up and made sure you were comfortable before going to look for his blonde best friend.
"Bakugou!" Kirishima called out over the music. He approached the guy who sat in the corner of the party, a group of people Kirishima had never seen before was surrounding his friend.
He pushed through the small crowd. "I need your help."
Bakugou blinked at the lack of explanation. "With what?"
Kirishima nudged his head toward where you were sitting. Bakugou's eyes followed only to see your state. You looked sick and stiff, almost as if you were dead. He groaned, taking a swig of his beer. "Not my problem-"
"She's fucking tired! Just help me take her to my room so she can get some rest!" Kirishima's expression didn't waver as he pressed on. "I know we aren't exactly getting along right now, but I can't do this alone."
A mixture of irritation and reluctance flickered across Bakugou's face. His jaw clenched, the internal conflict was visible in his tense posture. After a brief moment, he finally relented.
"If she pukes on me, I'm killing both of you," he grumbled.
Together, Kirishima and Bakugou made their way through the crowded room. Bakugou downed the last of his drink before tossing it somewhere he couldn't see. He watched Kirishima pull you up from the couch, your tired form leaning on him for support and your eyes struggling to stay open.
Bakugou's mind wandered back to all the instances when you had made your attempts to catch his attention. He'd seen your efforts, dismissing them as frivolous and uninteresting. But up until recently, recognition stirred within him.
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“F-fuck! Katsuki!”
The boy groaned in response. His thrusts didn’t let up even for a moment. He had her in doggy style, making sure to go deep inside her with his long strokes. His hands pressed down on her hips to keep her in place as her upper half wriggled around in pleasure.
Bakugou was turned off by her horrible acting. It was worse than a pornstar’s. At this rate, he knew he wouldn’t cum at all despite her already cumming for the first time.
The girl wasn’t ugly, she just wasn’t his type. Too vanilla for someone like him. He needed to rough someone up without worry. To grab someone by the neck and push their head into his pillow. To make someone take his big dick in full as they plead for mercy.
You were that someone.
He imagined pulling your hair and lifting you against him, your sweating bodies pressed against each other. How he’d throw you back down and pound into you from behind relentlessly. How you’d look back at him, unrecognizable with your makeup smudged and messed up, his hand rubbing along your back, up and down.
“Please… too big!” you’d bed.
He wanted badly to shake those thoughts away but he couldn’t. He closed his eyes to imagine more of what he’d do to you. Before he knew it, the thoughts set him off.
He pulled out of the girl and stroked a bit before cumming on her backside. She breathed in and out heavily, trying to catch her breath. She also began to touch herself so she can cum a second time
Bakugou didn’t help. He was busy thinking about you. Thinking about your lips, eyes, curves, and smell. You. You. You. He wanted you all for himself. But he knew your type; sweet on the outside, secretly hoping to be given a chance to play others to get what you wanted. He wasn’t going to play that game.
That night haunted him for weeks. When you came around, he went out of his way to avoid coming in contact with you. In his room, he would hear your voice ask: “What’s wrong with him?”
Kirishima would respond: “He’s been this like for a minute, but I’m not pushing it.”
Later that night, after you left, Kirishima knocked on Bakugou’s door. In one of his hands, he had a bowl of food that he cooked the day before.
“You’ve been in your room all day, bro! You need to help me set up!” he said.
Bakugou examined the boxing glove on his left hand. He wiggled his fingers only to realize it was way too stiff. Now he needed new gloves.
“M’ not hungry.”
Kirishima opened the door anyway and approached the boy, putting the dish on his desk. He looked at Bakugou and crossed his arms. "Something botherin' you, man?"
Bakugou huffed. Kirishima may have been a little slow, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell when his best friend is off.
Kirishima sighed. "(Y/n) and I noticed that you've been kinda distant lately. You barely come around anymore."
"Why is she always mentioned whenever we talk?"
Kirishima was taken aback. He raised an eyebrow.
Bakugou finally stood up, looking him dead in the eyes. "It's obvious you have a thing for her.
Kirishima stammered, unsure of how to respond. "I mean- I care about her as a friend, just like I do you. There's nothing more to it."
"You're always by her side, looking out for her, protecting her. Like you're fucking obsessed with her! It's pathetic!"
Kirishima shook his head in disbelief. "Just because I'm being a good friend doesn't mean I have ulterior motives. If you can't see that, then maybe you're the one with the problem here!"
Bakugou's body blazed with irritation. "You're fucking jealous that she pays more attention to me than she does to you."
Kirishima's jaw tightened. Immediately Bakugou knew he struck a nerve.
"Face it, Kirishima. She isn't interested, so back off. You're nothing compared to me."
Without another word, Kirishima turned on his heel, standing tall and steps firm as he walked away from the blonde. "Party is in three hours. Be ready."
Bakugou couldn't help but get another jab in as he listened to Kirishima mumble insults before slamming the door shut behind him.
"Stop worrying about me and start worrying about how you're gonna get your bitch off my dick!"
A wry smile formed on Bakugou’s lips as he recalled the telltale signs that hadn’t gone unnoticed before. Kirishima’s subtle glances in your direction, the way his eyes would light up whenever you entered the room, how his cheeks turned pink whenever you laughed at his jokes.
Bakugou knew his friend wouldn’t admit that he liked you, but he also knew you didn't know. You were nothing but a dumb bitch.
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As they reached Kirishima's room, Bakugou held the door open, allowing Kirishima to guide you inside due to your unsteady steps. The room was untouched, bathed in a warm, inviting glow like it always had. It offered a haven of tranquility, opposite of the chaotic activities going on downstairs.
Kirishima led you to his bed, helping you settle down with gentle care. "Thanks. I'll stay with her for a bit. You can head back to the party if you want-"
He was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking. His eyes widened. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He got up and rushed out the door without an explanation, only a ‘be right back!’
Bakugou watched him go and contemplated leaving himself. Then he looked at you, your chest softly rising up and down and you breathe. He sighed and went to close the door before sitting down next to your resting body. He traced his fingertips down the side of your arm.
“You want me so bad, don't you?" he asked. But it was more of a rhetorical question.
Suddenly you nodded softly. "Y-Yeah..."
Oh, you were awake. Bakugou's eyes furrowed.
"More than anything..."
"Then prove it," he growled. "Prove to me that you're worthy of my attention."
Barely conscious, you didn't understand what he meant, but as the alcohol faded, your sense came back to you. Your willingness to do anything to win Bakugou over was back and took over your mind in an instant.
You began to unbutton your shirt, revealing your lacy bra. Bakugou watched you with a cold, calculating gaze.
"You think that's enough?" he scoffed. "You really are a dumb bitch who doesn't know anything."
Your eyes filled with tears. You'd never been spoken to like that before. Yet, something about it made you hot. His coldness and brutality made you rub your thighs together.
"Please, Bakugou," you pleaded.
Bakugou then shook his head as he began to knead your thigh. "Call me Katsuki."
You smiled. Finally, you were getting what you wanted. He saw you. He noticed you. He's into you.
"Please, Katsuki," you whispered. "Tell me what you want me to do..."
His hand kept moving all over your body. Your heart pounded in your chest, scared of what his response may be. But he never said anything, he just eyed you.
Looking you up and down, his index and ring fingers grazing over your lips. Suddenly, he popped them into your mouth. As if it was a reflex, you wrapped your lips around them, sucking on them sightly. He caught you off guard when he pressed against the bottom of your tongue, making you gag. You turned your head, hoping he'd pull away.
Bakugou chuckled. "Get up for me, baby, and strip."
He let you sit up but not before wiping your saliva off his fingers onto your cheek. You slowly stood in front of him, holding onto his shoulders for support. He leaned back, trying to get a better view of your full body.
Slowly you began to remove your clothes. You felt exposed. Way more vulnerable than you ever had before. You avoided his hungry gaze.
"You know..." he began.
You looked up at him, not stopping the motions of getting undressed.
"Kirishima likes you."
You smiled. "I like him too. He's a good friend."
Bakugou wanted to laugh in your face. Your naivety was cute. He decided to be nice and only nodded in agreement. He watched intensely as the article of clothing dropped to the floor. His eyes studied your undergarments. It was a matching set, in pink. Of course. He felt himself twitch.
He sat up and extended his arm out to your cheek, lightly caressing it. "That's not what I meant."
In a flash, he let go of your face to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it back roughly. You whimper, your eyes shut tight. Your hands follow his actions, trying to pry him off.
"Aah! Katsuki, it hurts!" you winced in pain.
"Awe. Awe, it hurts? Yeah?" he mocked your tone before chuckling. "Can't even handle a little hair pulling."
He stood up, towering over you. He pushed you down slowly to your knees, praising you for your compliance. You shivered due to your bare body being exposed to the cold air.
With his other hand, he unbuckled his pants and unzipped himself. You listened to his pants fall and lightly bit your lip. Suddenly your face was pushed forward, being pressed into something hard.
You opened your eyes and looked up at Bakugou. You could see his rock-hard cock through his clean underwear. It curved slightly to the side and he was awfully big... and long... and thick.
You weren't a virgin but you weren't very experienced either. You'd never seen one so big before. You doubted that you were able to take that in any capacity. Not in your mouth, not in your pussy either, but you wanted so badly to impress him.
You rubbed your cheek against his dick, making him breathe out slowly. Bakugou pushed your head aside, harsher than he expected, and pulled down his underwear. He grabbed you by your cheeks and looked you in the eyes.
You were so beautiful like that. On his knees for him. Under him, below him; where you were meant to be.
Grabbing his cock, he slaps it against your face before pressing it to your lips. You open up, allowing him to smoothly slip it in.
"Ahh... shit..." he groaned as the warmth of your mouth took in his cock. You try to work your tongue around him as best as you could, his cock barely being able to fit in your mouth.
He gripped your hair in his fist as he began to move against your face, making you choke. The lipgloss you wore had been smeared, staining your mouth; your mascara ran down your cheeks as your eyes watered every time his cock slammed the back of your throat.
"Look at you. Eagerly swallowing my cock- fuck! Such a slut," he sighed.
Bakugou began to go faster, not giving you any time to take a break. You'd never been face fucked before, let alone roughly. Your gagging became more audible whenever your nose brushed against his pubes. You needed air, but he didn't give you any time to take a break.
You slapped his thigh a couple of times, trying to signal him. He understood; he just didn't care. Finally, he showed some mercy and pulled your hair back to allow you to breathe.
You gasped and cough. You let out unsteady breaths and it was hard for you to catch up to your normal pace of breathing. This didn't last very long though as Bakugou pried open your jaw, shoving his fingers in your mouth once again, this time reaching your throat. You choked again, more tears falling from your face. He kept his hand there for a few seconds, studying your pathetic attempt to please him. When you began to cough again, he pulled out.
"Impressive. Where'd you learn that?"
You felt your body growing even more tired than it was before. You opened your mouth to breathe, only for him to spit directly into it.
"Swallow."
You obeyed. His saliva slid down your throat with ease as you swallowed, and then you opened your mouth to show him. He smirked and stood up. You watched him lift you onto Kirishima's bed, positioning your head to dangle off the bed, facing the closed door.
You felt his tall, strong body leaning over yours as his mouth explored every inch of your skin. His fingers, still soaked with your saliva, slid off your panties and ran along your entrance. You were undeniably wet, and it was embarrassing. How easily you got wet. Bakugou thought it was adorable.
At first, his fingers rubbed just on top of your throbbing clit. You moan out softly, your hands moving down to his hair, playing with it a little. Your back arched at the sensation, causing him to push down your hips to keep you still.
"Look at yourself whoring out for me. You should be ashamed," he said.
He was right. You should have been ashamed. But... you weren't. You couldn't think straight, all you wanted in that moment was for him to be inside of you.
You lifted your head to watch him only for it to be put back down as his lips came up to kiss your neck. His fingers went faster, and you felt yourself squeeze around him. More moans came out of you as you concentrated.
His kisses, his fingers, his hot breath, his body.
His kisses, his fingers, his hot breath, his body.
Kisses, fingers, hot breath, body.
Kisses, fingers, breath, body.
Kisses, fingers, breath-
"M' gonna cum!" you cry out.
Bakugou faced you, his sharp canines showing as he laughed at you. You threw your head back and he lowered his face to nibble on your neck. You mumbled out incoherent words, on the verge of cumming.
A loud moan comes out of your mouth and immediately Bakugou pulls out. Your eyes widen, looking at him.
"No, no, no," you whined.
He ignored you and slapped his juices-covered hand over your face, pushing your head down yet again. It was too much for you. The pain of the bite on your neck went unnoticed when he forced his hips in between your legs, pulling you against him. He lined up his swollen cock with your cunt, slapping it a little. You moaned as he got himself wet with your juices mixed in with his precum.
He entered you without a warning and you screamed at the discomfort. You put your hands on his chest, whining. "Go slow, please!"
His gaze at you visibly softened. "You want me to be gentle, hm?"
You nodded, swallowing thickly. "Y-yeah... yeah..."
He whined just like you did. "Yeah? You want me to be soft with you? Help you adjust to my big dick?"
You repeated yourself. He smiled, carefully moving some strands of hair from your face. "You're so cute."
He slammed into you, instantly making you wail. His thrusts were slow, but hard. It hurt so bad. You whine in pain as his fingers went down to play with your clit again, laying a couple of smacks on your cunt.
Tears streamed down your face. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything you'd ever felt before. Your cunt was already sensitive, now paired with Bakugou's hand around your throat, and the pain slowly letting up, you felt so good. You were in heaven.
Bakugou's groans mixed in with your moans filled the room along with the sound of his balls slapping against you as his thrusts became even harder, you couldn't help but be loud, it wasn't like anybody could hear you. Your pussy throbbed around his cock and your back began to arch. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to your orgasm. And he noticed it.
He slowed down a bit. You were a little grateful as you were finally able to take him comfortably. But you questioned his change of pace.
"You know," he panted, "Kirishima wants us together."
You continued to moan, only murmuring over and over again how big his dick was, barely listening.
"He always talked about me and you- ugh...! Getting together..." he revealed. "Probably something he wants the most..." He lifted your head, putting his forehead to yours. "Let's do him a favor, yeah?"
The tightness on your throat grew tighter, cutting off your airflow, and his thrusts started to become harder again. Your eyes widened as your body struggled under his.
He whispered in your ear while increasing the pace of his strokes. "Be mine, baby. Cum all over my cock."
So you did. Your legs began to shake as your lungs begged for oxygen. Your orgasm was intense, your body squirming uncontrollably. He groaned as your pussy clenched around him for the last time. To be fair, he let go of your throat and your head went flying back over the edge of the bed.
You were officially head over heels for him. You would do anything to stay with him, even if it meant sacrificing your happiness and well-being. And you had a feeling he knew this.
The doorknob of the bedroom turned and the door opened. "Someone broke the damn vase with the-"
Kirishima.
He examined the scene before him, his breaths slowly becoming inaudible and his heart pounding in his chest.
Bakugou’s gaze snapped towards Kirishima, a smirk flashing across his face. "Kirishima. We didn't expect you to come in."
Kirishima ignored him, only focusing on you. His eye twitched as he took note of your cock drunk daze. You smiled innocently at him, your chest pumping up and down deeply.
"Kiri... I don't owe you one anymore."
He clutched his hands together, his knuckles turning white.
"You dumb bitch."
1K notes · View notes
unreliablesnake · 4 months
Text
Play stupid games... (Simon Riley x reader)
Summary: Simon agrees to pose as your boyfriend for the holidays. Since he has been in love with you for years, it turns out to be quite a bad decision.
Note: It took me a long time. But it's here now. Happy new year!
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Simon had known you for almost three years now, spending most of this time thinking about asking you out. But he never did it. Why would you agree to be with him when he usually disappeared for months all of a sudden because of his job? Since he didn’t want to risk losing you for good, he decided to keep his feelings to himself, silently suffering every time you cried on his shoulder after a breakup, or when you couldn't shut up about your new boyfriend.
But then one day, maybe a week before Christmas, you stood there in front of his door with this big, Cheshire cat smile on your face, hands folded behind your back as you watched him. “Can I come in?” you chimed, and how could he say no to that?
Little did he know you would come up with a plan so risky he would for the very first time consider saying no to you. He didn't like the idea, not one bit, mostly because he didn't feel like lying to your family. A family that probably didn't even know he existed.
“Come on, Simon, I never ask for anything,” you tried with a sweet smile.
He knew you were right. You never even asked him to come and fix something around your place, or to give you a ride after a long night out with your friends. This was, after all, nothing more but a small favor, a little lie he would have to keep up until the holidays were over.
“If I agree to do this,” he began slowly, not missing the hopeful shine in your eyes, “you will have to lie to your parents and other relatives, telling them we've been together for months. Are you sure you're ready for it?”
You inched closer on the couch, a delicate hand resting on his knee as you looked him in the eye. “Look, they usually hate the guys I invite, but they keep asking why I'm single if I arrive alone. I just know they wouldn't dare to pick a fight with you. Scary dog privilege and all.”
With a sigh, Simon leaned his head on the back of the couch as he looked up at the ceiling. He always wanted to know what it would be like to be with you. What it would be like to hold your hand, to have you snuggled up to him on the couch, or to kiss you. This plan of yours gave him the perfect chance to experience all of these during the holidays.
And so a few days later the two of you were standing in front of the door of your parents' house, hand in hand, of course, because who would think he was a simple friend when your fingers were laced with his so tightly. He didn't mind; no, he actually liked it a lot. It was good for the both of you, making you calmer and more focused on this night ahead.
“Oh, look at that, you made it on time this year! I’m so happy to have you here. Come on in, you two,” an older woman said with a bright smile as she clapped her hands excitedly.
She was acting as if she was in her twenties, dressing in clothes which gave away that she wasn’t exactly in a good shape. But Simon bit his tongue before he could say anything offensive, staying silent even when you made a barely noticeable comment regarding her choice of clothing. Was she really that dumb? That woman kept talking as if you’d said nothing; she was either too stupid to pick up on your words, or decided to completely ignore them.
“Your parents are in the kitchen, helping David with the dinner. I wouldn’t advise you to go there, you know what David’s like when he cooks. But your cousin Allistair has been looking for you.”
And with that she turned around and walked away, not even bothering to excuse herself. Simon raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at you. “Am I invisible?” he asked half-jokingly, the corners of his lips turning upwards when you put your free hand on his chest. He wondered if you could feel how his heart was racing at that moment from your touch.
You let out a sigh as you looked around, searching the rooms you could see from the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t mind her, she thinks all of my relationships are doomed. You’re just a random guy I brought with myself in her eyes,” you explained once you turned back to him.
“At the end of the day that’s all I am,” he noted quietly. You asked him what he said, but Simon just shook his head without repeating the sentence.
Allistair turned out to be a pretty cool guy. He was Scottish, cocky, and funny, which reminded him of Johnny. Unlike your aunt, he actually greeted him, asking about him before starting a long speech full of embarrassing stories from your youth. Simon was grateful and he didn’t even feel like moving on and meeting other members of your family.
But when one particular story came up, you were quick to interrupt him and drag Simon away from your cousin. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t hear that one. Let me introduce you to my parents.”
The parents. Great. Apparently you had been planning this for months, telling your parents stories about your tough military boyfriend they couldn’t meet because he was often away. You knew perfectly well he would agree, and this made him wonder if he was too naive for his own good. You were playing him like a violin and he shouldn’t be like this, acting like some stupid, lovesick teenager.
All of his worry disappeared when you took his hand, though. “What are you doing to me?” he muttered quietly to himself.
You came to a halt and turned to him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
After a nod, you continued your journey to the kitchen, dragging him along through the empty hallway. When you reached your destination, you immediately flashed a wide smile at the people inside before going closer to greet them properly. Simon found it awkward to just stand there and wait. The last time he had been introduced to parents and relatives was in his teenage years a long time ago. He was out of practice.
You returned to him soon and put your hands on his upper arm. “Mom, Dad, David, he’s Simon, my boyfriend,” you said as you grinned up at him.
Simon’s heart melted at the sight. He wished he could kiss your pretty lips, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Your mother gave him a warm smile before quickly washing her hands and walking over to see him from up close. For a few seconds she was just silently studying his face, and then she put a hand on your shoulder as she gave you a serious look.
“He’s really handsome, honey, good choice. And a military man! I’m sure he can keep you safe.”
She then introduced herself and the others, the men even came over to shake his hand. Simon talked to all three, answering a series of questions about his relationship with you. He didn’t mind since the two of you had previously fabricated nice little stories to tell your family.
Once they returned their attention to the dinner they had left unattended for a short while, you took his hand again before pulling his head down with the other to kiss him. It was just for show, he knew it, but it still felt so real, so good, and he was on cloud nine. Maybe he was just imagining things, but he could have sworn you were smiling up at him like a satisfied cat once he pulled away.
The rest of the evening was a walk in the park after meeting your parents and convincing them you were dating for real. Simon often took your hand, drawing circles into your skin absentmindedly as he had a conversation with a relative of yours. They seemed to like him, although there was a little girl who always ran back to her parents when he came too close to her.
After the guests began to leave, you announced your departure as well, and Simon took you home like a good boyfriend. You gave him a kiss on the cheek next to the car when you got there, then said goodbye and headed to the building. But he couldn’t just let you go like that, he had made up his mind during the evening that he would finally tell you how he felt.
“Wait,” he said as he went after you. You stopped and turned around with a questioning hum, but instead of giving you a verbal answer, he started with a proper kiss. You seemed surprised at first, but then you returned it for his relief. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, you know,” he said when he pulled back.
“Oh.”
That was all you said. He didn’t expect you to say it back, but he still expected you to say something more than this. Yes, it was probably a lot to take in, but you could have said you needed time to think about it, that it took you by surprise and you weren’t sure you knew what you wanted. But no. That was all he got.
“I should go,” you said with a gulp before going inside, twisting the knife in his heart with this reaction.
Weeks passed without him hearing from you. During that time he had to go back to base, and becoming Ghost once again took his mind off you. There he was a soldier, not Simon. He couldn’t let his emotions make him unfocused. But despite his best efforts, Price noticed that something was different. That something was off about his lieutenant.
So one evening he summoned Simon, officially to talk about a situation on the other side of the planet, unofficially to find out what was wrong with him. “Can I offer you a drink?” Price asked him when he sat down. When the lieutenant shook his head, he let out a sigh and sat down behind the desk. “I consider you a friend, Simon. I hope you know you can always talk to me.”
A groan left his throat upon hearing this. Price knew Simon, but here he was Ghost. He had to be Ghost, otherwise he would go insane. Because every night when he was left alone with his thoughts, he found himself staring at the screen of his phone, thinking about you. Should he call you? Should he send you a message?
“You don't have to, but it might help,” Price pressed on, but he only raised a hand and shook his head. “Listen, I know your head is here with us. I appreciate that. But you need to talk to someone. Is this about your family? The anniversary of what happened to them?”
Shaking his head again, the lieutenant leaned back in the chair. “It's not about my family, I made peace with that. Sort of. As cliche as it sounds, it's about a woman. I don't know what to do.”
Price lit a cigar as he watched him. They weren't that far apart in age, and he had a feeling the captain considered him a friend at the end of the day. It wasn't unusual for the two of them to go out for a drink between missions, discussing quite a lot of things, including each other's private life. While he didn't have much to say, his superior talked a lot about his family and women he was chasing.
“Tell me. What happened?”
“I kissed her and she stopped talking to me,” he said, opting to give the short answer to the captain. He sent a disapproving look in his way, clearly expecting a little more than that. After a gulp, he went on. “All right. So she asked me to pose as her boyfriend for the holidays. I agreed because I’m a fucking idiot who had been in love with her ever since we met. After we spent the evening with her family, I took her home and kissed her. I tried to call her, but she ignored me. I think she's mad.”
“You shouldn't have done that,” Price told him calmly. Simon was a little confused, and no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't figure out what he meant. Probably seeing the look on his face, the captain let out a sigh, blowing out some smoke. “Playing her boyfriend. You shouldn't have done that if you love her. It just makes you more desperate.”
Simon nodded. “You're right.”
“Well… Maybe she just needs time. But I don't know her, so,” he said, finishing the sentence with a shrug. “Gaz tells me a lot about his issues with women, but I swear he handles it better than you do.”
“Thanks. That helps a lot,” the lieutenant said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Why don't I ever hear about your issues? It's always so easy for you based on your stories.”
“What can I say? I'm good at charming the ladies,” Price replied, a laugh filling the room as he got rid of the remains of the cigar.
Over a month later Simon finally went home, and a few days after his arrival he found himself lying on his bed in the middle of the day, staring at the ceiling as he thought about calling you. Would you finally pick up and talk to him? In the end he decided to send you a text instead.
Simon: Hey. Wanna meet me for a drink?
Two excruciatingly long hours later a notification showed up on his screen.
You: Sure. Where?
Simon: My place? I'll order dinner.
You: Not sure that's a good idea.
Simon: Come on.
You: All right, fine.
You arrived not long after the conversation, holding a bottle of wine you two often drank on nights like this. The situation was awkward as Simon didn't really know what to do or say. A part of him wanted to apologize for the kiss, hoping you could forgive him and continue your friendship as if nothing happened. But another part was ready to beg you to be open-minded now.
When the door closed behind you, he leaned against it and watched as you slipped out of your sneakers and walked into the kitchen as if you lived there. A smile crept on his lips at the thought of you living with him. That would be nice. He could get used to the idea.
The next time he laid his eyes on you, you already had two glasses of wine in your hands, getting closer to him with a small smile. “You surprised me with that kiss,” you finally spoke up.
Simon took the glass from you, suddenly feeling nervous. “You didn’t forget about it.” You shook your head before taking a sip of your drink. “I’m sorry, I just… I know that was a lot to dump on you that night.”
“No, it’s okay. I had some time to think. You’re a great guy, Simon, any girl would be lucky to have you by their side,” you began to explain, causing him to let out a long sigh of defeat. “I’m one of those girls.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” With a short laugh, you immediately nodded and stood on your toes in front of him. “Does this count as our first date?”
He leaned down a little to give you a quick kiss. “No, you have to take me somewhere nice,” you told him.
“I’ll think of something.”
“Think of the place where we went after that party all those years ago. You know, when we first met.”
This surprised Simon. He tilted his head to the side as he watched you with a confused look on his face. “That was a McDonald’s.” You shrugged with a smile. “God, I love you.”
663 notes · View notes
highvern · 6 months
Text
Jealousy
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader
Genre: angst? humor, idiots in love
Warnings: jealous reader, mingyu is kinda an fboy but not really, Seungkwan is a readerxmingyu stan, alcohol mention
Length: ~1.5k
Note: another Drunk Goggles prequel! its a twin piece to bite the bullet bc they're both dumb jealous idiots but this is still very early on in their relationship.
If looks could kill then the nameless girl chatting with Mingyu at the bar, tracing her manicured nails down his bicep as she giggles obscenely, would be six feet under by now. 
She technically isn’t doing anything wrong; you and Mingyu aren’t a couple, you have no right to be upset when someone flirts with him. It's a given that someone as handsome and charming as him has a line of people bidding for his attention. But it doesn’t stop your mood from turning to shit when it happens. Frowning into your watered down drink, you swallow the remaining liquid, wincing against the bitterness. If you’re gonna watch people throw themselves at him tonight you’re definitely going to need something stronger than what’s in your cup.
You make your way to the far end of the bar, away from Mingyu and his new “friend,” ordering yourself two shots of tequila to extinguish the fury igniting your veins. The burn of liquor hurts far less than what you witness from the corner of your eye. Mingyu’s back is to you, obscuring his face but not the face of Yeji or Yeri or whatever her name was. She’s smiling at him coyly, blinking up from under her lashes as she leans a little too far into his personal bubble. Mingyu is an idiot if he can’t tell how much this girl wants him to take her home. Her less than subtle squeeze of his bicep sends your eyes rolling and an indignant scoff living your throat. You’ve seen more than enough.
Pushing away from the sticky wooden surface with a new drink in your hand, you creep back towards the table your friends are spread around. Luckily, most are either caught in conversation and don’t notice your tense expression or they’re kind enough to ignore it.
Keyword: most.
Jihyo hones in on your attitude change in zero seconds. And because she is about as subtle as a bull in a China shop, she jumps up to snag your hand and pull you towards the bathroom without a word before anyone else can say anything (re: Seungkwan who is about to kick Mingyu’s ass on your behalf).
“Mingyu’s an idiot.” Jihyo states calmly once she’s locked the door. 
She watched Yerin approach Mingyu at the bar and knew the second you saw there would be a meltdown. Jihyo won’t judge you, she never does. But she will wring Mingyu’s neck the next time he comes to her for advice about you. This was definitely not something she would have suggested to him.
“I’m not upset!” You cry, but it’s no use.
“Oh please,” she snorts. “I saw you at the bars. You only drink tequila when your feelings are hurt.”
“He can do what he wants, it’s not like we’re dating.”
“So? You like him, he likes you. If he’s gonna act like a dick in the meantime then he should have at least done it where you wouldn’t have seen.”
“If he likes me so much, why is he flirting with some girl?” You warble.
The tears forming in the corners of your eyes are sponsored by shitty tequila and a long island iced tea.
"Because he’s a dumbass.” She raises her voice. “He adores you, but he’s a dumbass.”
“He can adore my foot up his ass.”
“He probably would.” She contemplates. 
You snort. Jihyo knows exactly how to make you feel better. 
“If you wanna go home, I’ll come with you. I hate this bar.”
“No you don’t, but I appreciate it.” 
“Alright then, can we please get out of here?” 
“Yeah, it smells like vomit.” Your face twists as you dab away the tears on your cheeks.
“I thought that was just you.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.” Jihyo argues. “Now, let's go show him what he's missing!”
You raise an eyebrow but leave the cramped space nonetheless.
It's difficult to hide your shock when you approach the table and find Mingyu getting an earful from Seungkwan. You can’t make out what he’s saying but Seungkwan's face is red with either alcohol or anger (probably the latter given the way he’s gripping Mingyu’s collar). Mingyu’s eyes are wide in fear as he’s shaken to and fro by the younger man.
But when Mingyu sees you approach over his friend’s shoulder, the fright melts away, leaving a beaming drunken smile. It’s really hard to be pissed off when he looks like a puppy whose owner just came home. Seungkwan looks around to see what interrupted his lecture to find you staring inquisitively, to which he just rolls his eyes before settling back in his seat, diving into the heated exchange between Jeonghan and Chan.
Mingyu throws an arm around the back of your chair after you settle next to him. His fingertips trace the peak of skin next to the strap of your tank top, raising goosebumps and evaporating the rigidness in your posture immediately. Damn him.
“Missed you.” He mumbles close to your ear.
This time your eye roll is obvious. Mingyu thinks you're being playful but you remember how he was pinned to the bar only a few minutes ago and steam is threatening to pour out your ears again.
“Seems like you had decent company.” Your words are pointed and the way his eyes grow wide and his smile drops almost makes you feel guilty.
“Yerin?” He furrows his brows, “She was nice but not really my type.”
“Pretty girls aren’t your type?”
“Not when they aren’t you.” 
The smirk on his face is lazy and confident. Knowing Mingyu, he’d high five himself if he was less trashed. 
A cough covers what suspiciously sounds like a snort on the other side of his seat where Seungkwan is.
You bite your tongue against the scoff in the back of your throat. Mingyu’s got balls, you’ll give him that. But if he thinks he can flirt with you right after letting someone feel him up where everyone can see then he has another thing coming.
“You think I’m pretty, Gyu?” Your voice is sickeningly sweet, encouraging Mingyu to fall into your trap.
You turn towards him, letting your eyelids lower and lips pout. One of your hands drops to his thigh as you twist to see him better. It's exactly what Yerin was doing to him earlier but you can immediately tell that he is much more receptive to your antics than he was to hers.
The shock on Mingyu’s face makes you wish for a camera. It’s an effort to keep from laughing when his jaw falls open as his gaze follows the pattern your hand traces on his knee. You’ve never touched him like this before, but if this is how he reacts you’re more than happy to continue.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “The prettiest.”
You hum in acknowledgement. Mingyu is free flowing with compliments whether he’s drunk or sober but it always leaves you breathless. 
“Prettier than Yerin?” It’s petty but you’re feeling the shots you downed and logical thought isn’t your priority.
His face has moved into the crook of your neck, chin resting gently on your collarbone, sigh ruffling your hair as he gets cozy in the warm space and allows his nose to trace the curve of your shoulder.
“Absolutely.” His lips tracing the word on your skin makes you shiver.
“Then why’d you spend all night talking to her instead of me?”
Disappointment seeps into your voice; as much as you deny it, he’s hurt your feelings and wounded your pride.
“I—,” Mingyu swallows.
“Hmm?” You’re being mean but he started it.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” you coo in his ear. “Looked like you were having fun.”
“Have more fun with you.” He’s stuttering, flustered at how easily the words slip from between his lips.
“Where’d she go anyway?” You turn your head to locate her but she's nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t know,” Mingy rasps, mind focusing more on the way your nails tickle the inside of his knee through the fabric of his jeans than your questions. “Don’t care.”
“Don’t be mean.” You chide.
“I really don’t though.” 
“Well, Jihyo and I were thinking about heading out.” You feign a yawn. “It’s late.”
At the sound of your threat, Mingyu is immediately up out of your neck and staring at you with puppy eyes. 
“But you just sat down!” He pouts.
“I’ve been here for hours.” You mirror his expression. “I’m tired, Gyu.”
“I haven’t gotten to talk to you all night!”
Hook.
“Maybe you can talk to Yerin again.” You smile with venom in your eyes.
Line.
The shock on Mingyu’s face informs you that he is now realizing how much he fucked up. 
Sinker.
“Bye, Gyu.” You coo sweetly, giving his thigh one last squeeze.
Jihyo watched the entire scene play out much to her own horror. She’s ready to go the second you stand, preparing the lecture of a lifetime once you're on the way home. But the shit eating grin on your face makes her proud.
What you two don't see is Seungkwan leaning over to whisper a “told you so” in Mingyu’s directions as they both watch you walk towards the exit and into the night.
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