Tumgik
#I love them being all domestic and shit
taytei · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
trios of assholes are my favorite - especially of the sibling variety
18K notes · View notes
cowboy-robooty · 7 months
Text
no guys you dont get it itager isnt sweet and tender in the domestic gay lovey dovey way theyre sweet and tender in the BRO way
#im a crazy bitch okay i will be like yes theyre lovey to eachother yes thats true#yes i only get gay and shit for itager bc theyre true love and then see something sappy and gay of them and go THAT AINT RIGHT#im a freak okay im such an asshole about itager bc i think theyre lovey to eachother in a very specific way and all other ways are cringe#me when the only itager i consume is the official goddamn hetalia manga#and them doujins made by corolla that mf was the only person ever who understood them (even if they were misguided and believed in gerita)#i like to think in my heart of hearts corolla knew the truth it was just the wrong time.#like how i know bill and ted wouldve loved touhou koishi song its just they were born in the wrong era#but yeah like germany and italy are gay in that BRO way like. its hard to describe but its not gay its more like.... friendship adjacent#like when you deeply care about your bro and act gay with them in that way they arent about that silently looks at the moonlight shit#they look at the moonlight and italy goes 'germany is right now a good time to tell you i fucked your car again' and germany goes 'What.'#ITS A BETTER AND MORE AWEZOME FORM OF LOVE IN MY HUMBLEST OF OPINIONS.... I PERSONALLY PREFER IT#its domestic in the way of having your average daily life of dicking around with your bros and throwing grenades in cars n shit#instead of domestic settling down and being all serious and sappy all the time#its lovey dovey in the way of being like AHAHA IM HAVING SO MUCH FUN!!! yeah bro... i really like you too *hug* im glad youre in my life#i just think thats so much more swag because settling down just does not sit right for me#i think settling down sucks tf you mean theres no more adventures and always sunny shit?#i think fruk can get into that settling down domestic shit but im a firm believer itager cant#because their entire dynamic hinges upon italy coming in and making germanys boring ass lonely life fun by ruining it everyday#its not itager if they arent grabbing eachothers balls and acting like bros#ive said this to wiener but its the itager itapan juxisposition#itapan (japans onesided crush ofc) is great because they act gay but are just bros#and itager is great because they act like bros but are gay#idk its hard to explain the nuances of it all but just trust me when i say canon content and corollas sfw doujins are the only true itager#content#robooty asshole moment sorry guys somethings wrong with me#robooty kun
25 notes · View notes
catboyidia · 10 months
Text
genesis and sephiroth “fighting” and hurting each other (nothing serious just small scrapes and stuff) just to homoerotically tend to each others wounds afterwards, calling each other dumb and other small childish insults while doing it (mainly genesis but sephiroth chimes in sometimes too), but they’re both awful at any form of first aid so angeal has to step in and actually patch them up. he used to scold them for it but he has since given up, now he can do nothing but sigh and shake his head at his stupid boyfriends antics while covering them in cute chocobo and cactuar print bandages and kissing their little wounds to make them feel better. genesis and sephiroth always try to do the same for angeal when he gets roped into their “fights”, and while the gesture is sweet and its the thought that counts, they fail miserably every time at the first aid and get into petty little “arguments” on who gets to kiss angeals wounds better
39 notes · View notes
swordmaid · 22 days
Text
AM thinking that if shri’iia had not been kidnapped by the nautiloid she would’ve still been tadpoled and enthralled by the absolute just because they were targeting drows and I’m thinking shri’iia’s matriarch had told her to investigate the drows that have disappeared like specifically a baenre highborn and her army disappeared when they went to the surface? that’s sus and her matriarch is like in everyone’s business anyway. SO in like a companion au if she isn’t recruited, shri’iia become one of the absolute goons you see in moonrise. probably a guard or something. likewise, i like to imagine in her playthrough she’s kind of like 🧍‍♂️ once they’ve visited moonrise and she saw that most of the guards there were the drows she was sent out to investigate. kind of like oh so THATS what happened to them. then when she finds that journal in ketheric’s desk talking abt how they were specifically targeting drow exiles she’s like …huh.
#but something about how the absolute promises love and power to her followers and how that would be SO appealing to lolth sworn drows bc#lolth is anything but that … like ik they’re all brainwashed but I’m so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 at the concept of them being willing to jump ship when#they’re promised love bc it’s something that they don’t get from their goddess …#and lolth’s relationship with the drows being an allegory of domestic abuse bc she’s the reason why they were exiled at the first place …#and she treats them like dog shit and keeps them paranoid and fearful but they stay with her anyway#and to reroute it back to shri’iia - her projecting Lolth on The Matriarch and their relationship being similar in nature#but it’s less physical abuse and more of a mental manipulation#like her Matriarch keeping her isolated so shri’iia becomes codependent#which she DID. and she still is. so when she broke her oath she literally did not know what to do#then she goes into that whole journey of reclaiming her self agency bc she used to just think of herself#her person / her body as a vessel to carry out her Oath and her Oath was the only thing that mattered to her#and it DEFINED her. like that’s her entire existence. but now it’s gone so she has to learn be a person again or else she’ll spiral#so now she is…!! and it’s a long journey but one worth taking ..#also I imagine she never had any boundaries when it came to The Matriarch so she is def learning the power of the word No#and learning what she likes to do instead of being down for whatever the person wants to do#bc she just wants to please them so badly#every time I think of her animal sona I’m like a bunny would be so cute but lbr she is a dog. a hound even
1 note · View note
hallowed-nebulae · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
the belgian rabbit
aka i got the sudden urge to paint ven, and scribbled this as fast as i could
inspired by this bust of ven that @ephemxras made, because it reminded me how much i love ven (and is honestly just, one of the cutests vens that’s ever been drawn)
8 notes · View notes
bitemarkval · 1 year
Text
thinking about chamber and viper rn
2 notes · View notes
thesmokinpossum · 2 years
Text
As I await the results of this trial, I can't stop thinking of the fact that donald fucking trump had a better take on this case than many supposedly 'woke' people like...even the demon believe...
6 notes · View notes
Text
sitting in my room for a half hour thinking about how if we lived in a better world Ada Wong would be the Ilsa Faust of Resident Evil (primarily in how she's introduced in Rogue Nation), with a dynamic to leon not unlike Fujiko Mine's and Lupin's in which they are both extremely competent and in situations in which they may have to work against and occasionally with each other on a mission, but ultimately are forced to stay apart and while they may be apart and even have different love interests from each other, ultimately still care deeply for one another. They are compelled to go after each other in part because it's so difficult and they are so often in circumstances in which they can't be with each other. The thrill of the chase and all that.
Ada being only tangentially related to the other character's stories because the world is simply larger than them and she has her own concerns and problems to deal with, and to have that be given any care or weight in a story, let alone focus. That she can be cunning and even manipulative but because she needs to and will still choose not to when the chips are down because she is genuinely caring--which I know none of that is new ground for her but I wish it was done in a more interesting way and *without leon at all*. She chooses to show mercy in a key point not because she's in love with that other character.
And also that she has more personality. I dig the subdued nature of her in 4r and her subtle sarcasm but it's just crumbs. I want her to be silly on occasion and say dumb jokes because she's alone like in 2r. I want her to shed a bit of that seriousness when she's on the clock because she's confident in herself as a professional and again has no one to put up a façade to.
It's honestly kinda embarrassing reading this back as I realize most of what I'm writing is not only already present in the games but incredibly tropey in and of itself, and wouldn't improve the character much. Dear god I think too much of my view of the character has been marred by shallow fanworks depicting her. I think if anything it's a sign that:
I'm a shit writer and need to do way more than watch movies and gesture vaguely at them to come up w a decent story or character (that being said as much as I prefer Fallout as a film, I stand by my earlier statement of Ilsa Faust being the ideal spy woman as she's depicted in Rogue Nation as she has a distinct set of goals and needs that are complex and developed largely tangentially to the protagonist's, at least initially).
It's going to take a completely new approach to her character to get something remotely interesting and that takes advantage of her potential.
For as mired in tropes as she and every other character and story in Resident Evil is, Ada could be far more memorable and enjoyable if only there was more care and effort to giver at least some interests and goals (perhaps even...characterization) on her own other than being a sexy love interest and potentially traitorous (as so many femme fatales already are).
#I mean she basically already is Fujiko I just wish it was more fun and gave her shit to do that didn't exclusively revolve around leon#I have a lot of thoughts about leon as a character and as much as I enjoy their over-the-top mr & mrs smith romance also fuck leon#Sighs....I know I'm asking too much from a franchise that has famously bad writing and largely archetypal characters but it's maddening#Mostly to me personally because I love spy shit and femme fatales for how messy and misogynistic the archetype is it's my favorite#So it kills me that a cool femme fatale like Ada who has so much potential as a character is relentlessly squandered#And it's the most annoying thing in the world to me to complain about fandoms/fans but I'll be a hypocrite and vent that it bugs me#How much fan media revolves around a*on and coming up with idealized domestic fantasies for them which can be chopped up to misogyny#And how tropey fan shit is but still it's so dull and often bends Ada into an ideal wife/gf for leon but not explore Anything Else At All#Not every romance has to end in marriage and kids like what about the inherent drama of them being forced apart isn't#Compelling to fans? What I'm trying to say is I want them to have a painfully messy divorce and a game or movie exclusively about Ada#*and I mean like they never marry just break up but emotionally it's a messy divorce that's ultimately for the best given their jobs#Also I am far too out of my depth to go into it but many have pointed out how her characterization often falls into pretty#nasty tropes that Asian women often fall into in Hollywood films which considering how much US blockbusters influence re it's not surprisin#But it's unfortunate and I'd be remised to at least mention that it feels at best dicey to have the only recurring Asian woman be mostly#reduced to a love interest of the white protagonist and sexualized with little else to go off of as a character#Yes she's competent and a super spy and saves his life constantly but I Want More And She Deserves Better#And yes everyone is super tropey and flat and the women in general often take a back seat to male charas but like I said#this whole franchise is badly written and honestly it kills me how women are written in general in re but I was thinking too hard about Ada#And maybe a sign that this series needs an even bigger overhaul than the remakes are doing character writing-wise#Or just don't and jettison the bloated lore once and for all and be episodic and silly b-horror idk if I can care about established charas#Coming back if they're in such dull forms. Maybe the mercy kill option is ideal and have re9 and all new installments be different#Ugh why can't I care about something useful like computers or cooking or job applications
1 note · View note
chrollohearttags · 7 months
Text
fuck me like you hate me • eren jaeger x black fem reader
I know I said I hate seeing my babies fight but I’m tweaking over the idea of some nasty ass, filthy hate sex between eren and (y/n). Like imagine they’ve just moved in together, adjusting to living with another person and they have been walking around mad as hell at each other over dumb shit around the house and from work (him ignoring her for recording sessions and her on Instagram showing a lil too much for his liking). The tension is CRAZY. It explodes into a huge argument..they think about breaking up but instead, fuck their frustrations out, I—😫😫
content warning: very ROUGH sex, name calling, use of N-word (by reader obv) degradation, hitting, spit play, oral sex, fingering, backshots, slapping, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, implied dacryphilia,breeding, marking and spanking, riding, .2 seconds of switch eren, bunch of other shit omg just proceed with caution, does have a really happy ending and lots of aftercare 🥹
word count: 8.3K
📝: and forewarning before anybody can come leave a dumbass comment, this isn’t in support or condoning of toxic relationships, fighting, domestic altercations/violence, etc. and this will be my very first and last time writing something of this degree. Also, this is purely fiction and all of these aforementioned topics will only be slightly touched on without graphic detail, as they can be extremely triggering and sensitive. Again, read this at your own discretion! (And keep it very cute)
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰──── ───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut the fuck up..you want to post everything, let’s post this.”
the words spewed like venom from between your boyfriend’s lips. Much like the many times that he called you baby, princess..or said ‘I love you’. But lately, things had been a little less affectionate around the Jaeger household. It had only been six months since the two of you had moved in together. Taking your newly public relationship to the next level and committing to one another. It was supposed to be a joyous time yet it was the exact opposite! As of late, particularly in the past few weeks, the two of you had been at odds and each other’s throats to say the least. The anger constantly building and only becoming worse by the minute. So much so, the both of you had questioned if living under the same roof was a wise option and even more so, contemplated splitting up..but alas, it seems you found a better solution:
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet, baby.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
the whole situation arose not too long ago, stemming from the fact that he had been working nonstop on new projects. As happy as you were that he was back into his groove, you were sick of being ignored and neglected for a damn album. Shelved and discarded like nothing more than a toy. It was infuriating, especially when you went out of your way after your own gigs and busy schedule to cook him dinner and make him snacks; even trying to surprise the man with a few little..outtakes and teasers from your photo shoots. Preferably the ones where you were nude or playing with yourself. Did he pay them any attention? Hell no. In retaliation, you decided you’d give him a taste of his own medicine..by blocking him on Instagram and purposely posting some rather wild shit. Such as you practically tongue kissing your homegirl as you guys took shots at the pool. Or twerking in a new fit normally worn by dancers and sex workers…it didn’t help matters any when he had to see the sultry posts by proxy from one of his friends, who shared it with him while at the studio one night and when he confronted you about it, you could care less. Saying that maybe someone else would appreciate it if he didn’t. Which had him completely irate and the situation escalated further than it ever should have. But this festering fire of resentment didn’t just boil over today. This had been due to weeks worth of rising frustrations. Eren felt as if he had worked to curate his sanctuary and you were destroying that and you were pissed that he agreed to you living together when he obviously didn’t even want you there. But it all came to a head only a couple hours ago..
flashback
the two of you standing in the bedroom, arguing and going at each other’s throats. Shouting and screaming..it was a situation you promised you’d never find yourself in after your ex and today, you’d had enough. You were ready to leave..call it quits on this entire thing because you refused to be in another toxic relationship. Especially when you cared so deeply for this man. But no amount of love could make you stay in this.
“You won’t even tell me why the fuck you’re so mad! Walking around with a fucking attitude and I’m supposed to read your goddamn mind?! Be serious!”
“Nigga, I shouldn’t have to tell you shit! I waited on you for three hours, Eren! Three motherfucking hours..got dressed, done my hair and everything and you fucking stand me up like my time ain’t worth shit. You don’t give a damn about anybody or anything except that stupid ass music.”
needless to say, tensions were high…you were both angry and it was probably best if you guys stepped away and gave yourselves time to reevaluate the situation but instead, you were running on fumes and pure fire. Only making matters worse. Thank goodness no housekeeping staff was around to hear this altercation because you guys would probably be on the front page of TMZ. Either way, neither of you cared. Right now, you just wanted to vent and get your peace out before the other could. “You mean the same music that’s paying your bills? That’s buying you those fucking purses and hair? Surely, you’re not complaining about that. You damn sure don’t when you wanna spend the money.”
making your blood boil with rage and your eyes well with tears. “You know what? Fuck you, I don’t need your money or nobody else’s. The fuck you think this is? I got my own shit. While you were laid up in the motherfucking suburbs, I was getting to this shit long before I got famous and damn sure before I met you..if you don’t want me here then say that.” But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot and neither were you…no one wanted to admit they were in the wrong. “No (y/n). I want you to understand that I got business to handle. That I have obligations and if my boys gotta come tell me you’re out here kissing on bitches and entertaining other guys while I’m working then you go wherever you want. I’ve never chased anybody in my life and I damn sure won’t start now. Especially somebody who runs to the internet when they’re mad. Childish as fuck and no woman of mine is gonna have me out here looking stupid. Go be with whoever’s making you happy because it’s obviously not me. Hell, maybe you can work things out with your fuck ass ex since he won’t stop talking about you in his songs. I told you it was a bad idea for us to move in together right now but you just had to. Now look.” The words cutting like a knife clean through butter. Stabbing you in the heart with his hurtful words…you thought this was what he wanted as well and to find out that yet again, you were just another chore like everything else in his life, you were gutted. Not only that, he’d bring up your ex as if that relationship didn’t come along with emotional damage and physical scars. He knew how much of a sensitive topic that was for you and yet, when Eren got angry, he had a tendency to hit below the belt and do so without the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice. With tears in your eyes, unable to hold them back, you’d begin screaming all over again, hitting his chest and trying to take out all your anger on him. Even as you slammed your fists against him, screaming that you hated him and slapping his cheek, he stood there unfazed. He knew your words were from a place of hurt and your actions were not the real you. You’d never raise your hand at him because you knew what that felt like. But feeling as if he didn’t care, you were distraught! So much so, you’d become blind with rage and act out of a place you promised to never go to.
“I fucking hate you, Eren! Swear to fucking God, bro!—all you do is make me feel like shit. If you didn’t want me, all you had to do was leave me alone!” Shouting as you swing your closed fists at his chest, banging on him and wailing as you cry. Screaming and shouting to the top of your lungs.
it was by that point, he’d had enough of being your punching bag. Looking away from you, he’d grasp your wrists, stopping you in your tracks and that only enraged you more. “Let me go, Eren! I’m not playing with you!” Alas, he didn’t say a word though. He didn’t even so much as look at you..staring through you like glass; just holding your hands in place to avoid your hits. Instead, he’d push you to the mattress and pin you back by your wrists. “Don’t put your fucking hands on me, I’m not repeating myself..I don’t play that shit, (y/n). Do it again and we’re done.” grimacing his teeth and leaning down against your face. He was a firm believer that if a relationship ever got physical, it was time to end it. He could never bring himself to put his hands on you, even entertain the thought of it so he wasn’t about to let you disrespect him and do the same. But your rage could not be quelled and instead, you’d start to kick around until he’d bolt your legs down as well. Staring at him like this…hair down, beard and mustache forming on his face, you could tell he hadn’t been himself either and right now, there was a far more primal energy about him. Energy that seemed like it could devour your ass alive if you pushed one more button. “Or what? The fuck you gon’ do? Pussy.” And in that moment, you’d find out just what he had in mind when you decided to spit at his face and in retaliation, he’d only laugh..much more than he should've..right before putting his hand around your throat, clutching it so tight that it causes you to gasp. Restricting your breathing in the process. Which forced your mouth open and allowed him to return it with his own saliva, seeping onto your tongue. With his knee placed between your thigh, brushing against that thinly clothed cunt, he knew you were wet..getting turned on for him even now. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Feeding you a couple slaps to your cheek as you begin to realize the gravity of the situation. “Answer me, bitch. You like spitting so much, I got something for you to use it on.” Suddenly, he’d begin to lean up, tugging at the top of your head next to adjust to eye level with his erection. With one fell swoop from his thumb, he’d tug his sweats down and right before you was his thick cock, standing at full attention. He didn’t want to feel your hands..nothing but straight mouth and throat and right now, he’d guide you as he saw fit. You were his toy right now…shoving that dick between your lips, he’d start to fuck that pretty, tear stained face like it was nothing more than a sleeve. He could hear the gurgling in the back of your throat and feel how hard you were trying but since you had so much to say, he was going to make sure you ate those words.
“What’s that, baby? Can’t hear you..” mocking you as he used your mouth to his heart's content. Balls slapping your chin and jaws suctioned around his shaft. You’d attempt to put your hands up to his hips but he’d slap you and make certain you’d never do so again. Sucking his teeth, Eren laughed as he watched you struggle to engulf all eight and a half inches of that thick girth. “Can’t pop all that shit with my dick in your throat, can you?” Asking rhetorically but he wasn’t done rubbing salt in the wound..you had truly and utterly pissed him off and for the last time. In haste timing, he’d retract from your mouth only momentarily to the sound of you taking sharp gasps and drooling all over yourself. He’d force your head to the edge of the bed, where he’d crawl over and continue his brutal face fucking. But not before he spat in that oral cavity once more, looking at you as if you were nothing more than an object. Bucking his hips and thrusting as if it were an inanimate toy lying in front of him. Your insides were matching the sensation of that of a flesh light, maybe even better. By the time he got into it, a bulge began to form in the center of your esophagus. And try as you might to swat at him, he’d tell you to place your arms by your side and not move them until he stated otherwise.
“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re messing with, princess. I don’t know which bum you’re used to fucking but don’t you ever try that shit with me again. There’s a reason I said I don’t chase anyone. Why would I when I know I’ll have you crawling right back?” and he was right! This man had done things to you that would have any woman stalking him and sitting in his bushes. Even so, you were still pissed off and not much in the way of taking his shit lying down. So as he twitched slightly in your throat, you’d begin to gurgle and gag on his dick, doing tricks to inevitably make him tap out. Grasping the top of your head, he’d tug his shaft from between your lips and spin you around until you were flat on your stomach, and glaring up at his face as he gripped your chin. “You can fuck half the guys in the game and not one of them would ever make you feel the way I would. That pussy will always belong to me. Stop pretending you don’t know that.” His words were so condescending, it made you want to scream but you couldn’t disagree either. Eren always had a nasty habit of playing on people’s psyche and getting under their skin with his words. He was the type to read someone down and not miss a beat. When he was angry, nothing or no one was off limits. Tears were already streaming from your eyes and throat already sore from his brutal handling but he didn’t care. “So I’ve got a great idea…” looking straight past you, he’d extend an arm and lay a heavy handed slap across your backside, still tugging at your hair without any sort of regard for it. “We’re not leaving this room until you and I fix this.” He’d take a moment to clutch his other fist around his cock; tapping it against your tongue, which was hanging out. “Until I fuck you so stupid, you forget what you were so mad about. How’s that sound?” Patting your cheek and inflicting sharp slaps to your ass, causing stinging pain. Along with sensations to your pussy. Proving his words to be true.
Trails of saliva pooled..dribbling from your mouth. Gagging noises constantly arising and filling the room as he relentlessly and disrespectfully fucked that pretty face. At the same time, he’d reach forward so that he could slide two digits inside of inviting heat. Pushing those fingers in and out at an intermediate pace. He’d rub on the sensitive bud with his thumb and pump the other two profusely. You’d slowly start to rut yourself on them, unable to resist him for much longer. “There you go…good girl. I swear, you’re so much prettier like this. Sucking my dick instead of bitching…” he couldn’t help but to fling one more insult in there but trust, he preferred this to arguing any day. Any frustrations the two of you had could be left right here! Continuing to relentlessly fuck your face, Eren teased your little cunt for two reasons: one, because you couldn’t help but to whimper and the sensations caused your throat to spasm and two, he was preparing you for how bad he was going to beat that pussy up. When he finished, you wouldn’t have the energy to move, less known scream at him. He was tired of being at odds with the woman he loved. All too well did he know the pain of practically living with a stranger he felt nothing for and he refused for you guys to turn out the same way. Too many laughs, so much love had been shared between you two for it to end now..
amid disassociating, EJ withdrew his fingers and fat cock from between your lips before telling you to lie on your back. “Spread those legs..” Earning him a side eye from you as those thighs parted to reveal that dripping center. “Bet you’re wet as fuck, aren’t you? Admit it.” Plump lips that were freshly waxed and soaking wet, just for him. There was no one else in this world that could get you so undeniably aroused and you both knew it. Raking his fingers through those long, thick locks, he’d crawl on to the bed; knees pushing through the mattress as he grasped your ankle and tugged you towards him. In that same, swift motion..you’d find your legs pinned back to the covers and feet practically behind your head. “She missed me, didn’t she?” That smug look on his features as he so casually stroked the hood of your clit. He wanted nothing else from you than to wet that beard up. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t as infuriated as you once were and that fiery spark had dwindled to a twinkle of adoration. But if he knew one thing about you..it was that you’d play coy until you couldn’t any longer. You’d fake an orgasm, pretend to not be turned on. Anything to make him feel inferior. Because you’d try everything to deny him that satisfaction of pleasuring you. You were stubborn, yes but far more aroused..too much to hide it, in fact.
“No, and I didn’t eith—ahh fuck!” Your mouth left agape as he shoved a digit inside and let one rest dormantly on the clit. “Exactly as I thought. Shut the fuck up.” Sitting down entirely, he’d keep your legs pinned back in one hand, as it was nothing with his strength. With all his pent up energy and frustration he’d normally use to fuck you dumb, he had been putting towards intense workouts the past few weeks. Trying to find a way to channel that anger in a healthy way to avoid doing something dumb. Working those two fingers in and out, pumping slowly..Eren made certain you were looking him in the eyes as he maneuvered that little cunt with the delicacy of his hand. Pumping and rubbing in a fluid motion as if it were second nature. Taking you gently by the back of the head, he’d hold you up and let you watch him work. “Shit—I’m not gonna come. If that’s what you want.” “You’re so cute, thinking you have a choice in the matter. Like I said, we’re not leaving until we fix this. So you can drop the fucking act.” Amid his declaration, he’d look you dead in the eye, peering right about your stomach and spit onto your pussy. Disrespectful and raunchy about it as well. He had no regard for you as his girl or even a person right now. You were an object..his little slut he was going to break and mold as he saw fit. “Take your eyes off of me again and I swear to God, you won’t get to come at all. You really don’t want to test me right now.” And something told you, every word seeping from his mouth was a pure fact. This man’s forms of punishment were hellish. One time, you made him so mad, that he fucked you for an hour straight, using a combination of various toys and his cock until you were in tears and refused to let you climax once. No matter how many times he stuffed you or nutted himself. By the time he granted you permission, it was like releasing the pressure on a tightly coiled spring and you nearly collapsed from the intense pressure.
so reluctantly, you’d bat those big brown eyes and fluttery lashes as you watched your man devour that tasty little center. Those jade eyes fixated on you; akin to a shark lying in wait just above sea level..stalking its prey. All you could hear were smacking, slurping and faint moans but what you felt were sensations of pure bliss. Slick had begun to coat the tip of his nose as he nuzzled it between your slit. His tongue lapped up every remnant of those syrup like fluids..sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. This man ate pussy like his life was on the line and it’d only be a matter of time before he had you as putty in his hands once more. Eventually, Eren would snake his palms up to your own and clasp them together, intertwining those fingers once he removed them, so that you two were holding hands. A level of intimacy that he only showed to someone he cared about. It was blatantly obvious that he still loved you..regardless of how angry you were. Especially when you heard him moaning and sucking on your clit, which inevitably made you melt in his grasp. “Mmmmph..fuck.” Whimpering so softly and slowly rutting yourself against his tongue. “That’s it..fuck my face, baby. Real slow.” The deep rumble in his voice makes you melt even now. Even when you were just screaming at him. Suddenly, your breath would hitch and he’d cause another pang of pleasure to rip through your body. His tongue flickered all throughout your folds and he’d leave gentle kisses on those lower lips. That’s when you felt more saliva on your quivering cunt, combining with your own sweet juices. Those eyes were beginning to cross, toes curling as they rested on his shoulders and that little hole, leaking like a faucet. “You taste so good…and I know it feels even better. Look at the way that shit’s leaking f’r me. Can’t even deny it..” As enjoyable as it was eating you out and normally, he’d stay down there forever, taking in your essence and flavor but for right now..he had to fuck the shit out of you!
suddenly, you’d feel that incredible oral come to an abrupt halt and Eren rising to his feet. Keeping that grasp on your thighs, he’d land a heavy handed smack to your ass and tell you to take hold of your legs now..as he had plans. “Keep that shit open. Hold them.” Demanding as he hovered above you..hand wrapped around his shaft; slowly pumping up from the base. Between using your throat earlier and eating you out, that dick was throbbing and thumping. He needed to be inside of you immediately or he was going to burst. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. You were a puddle of dripping sex and arousal for him. With your panties dangling around your ankles and tank top pulled down, he tugged them off and stuffed the thin material into your mouth. He couldn’t lie..it looked so hot seeing you in such a vulnerable state. But you were going to need it for how hard he was about to pound your pussy. Glaring at you with a smug smirk, he’d place a hand into the center of your belly before easing his cock inside of you..which elicited a heavy grunt arising from his throat.
staring into your eyes, he’d start out with sharp, deep strokes. Ones that didn’t even allow you to adjust to before that cock began to curve up and kiss the inner corner of your cervix. His pace was already rough and somewhat sped up. He didn’t care about your feelings or how it felt. The only thing he wanted to see was a mess made of him. Whimpering through muffled lips, your head would slightly tilt back, along with those watering eyes as your skin collided; sounds of clapping flesh filling the room. It was then that you’d feel his hand creep up to the center of your scalp, tugging you down so that you were forced to see him bulging through your skin so early on.
“Take this dick. C’mon..” never breaking eye contact as he continued thrusting. His hips bucking and moving in a rhythmic motion. He had no regard for any part of you right now..you were merely a hole, a vessel for his pleasure and that was it. That smug grin on his face gave it away.. “fuck!..so deep—g’ahh..why are you fucking me like this? Shit!“ belting out in a shaky whimper through the gag of those panties as you clawed through your own skin with your fingers and palms planted to the backs of your thighs. You’d bite down on them in an attempt to quell that sensation. Feeding you yet another slap, Eren proceeded to take that comfort away by pulling it out and shoving those same fingers into your mouth. “Fucking shame it had to be like this, baby. But you asked for it. Shouldn’t have pissed me off.” Even with sweat trickling down his forehead and very obvious moans escaping his lips, he was still cocky and arrogant to a fault. Even if the grip of that fat cunt swallowing him as he slid in and out had him faltering, he’d never be so weak as to show it..not at a time like this at least. Slamming that cock balls deep; your pelvises clashing with a sheath of creamy fluid molding them together, Eren leaned all the way forward and pressed his entire body weight against you..as some sort of makeshift mating press. Your eyes locked and his lips pressing to yours.
“But imma make sure you don’t have shit else to say when I’m done.” Laughing with all faith and confidence that he could magically make this all go away. However, you were still in a bit of a confrontational mood and decided to challenge him.
“Is that right? Well shut me the fuck up then. Make me be quiet.” With that all too familiar glare in those gorgeous brown eyes of yours. The one that you gave him when you needed some act right..the one that screamed for him to do his worst. “You think your dick’s that good? Please, you don’t know what to do wi—“ Luckily, he was up for the task and you had a rude awakening coming. Snickering, Eren pulled himself up by only an inch, still letting you pop your shit and all; just enough to allow him the room to place his hand around your throat and squeeze until your tongue was hanging out. Meanwhile, his stroke had slowed to a more sporadic pace; thrusts becoming far more uneven and short, yet everyone hit your spot with precision. All the while, his jade eyes never left your own. Suddenly, he’d make good on your declaration and before you knew it…
“Well that was easy enough..what’s the matter, princess? Cat got that tongue? You were so loud earlier..cussing and yelling at me like you’ve lost your fucking mind. Where’s all that energy now? Hmm?”
suddenly, the bed would begin to jolt around..headboard slamming against the wall and the entire frame shifting under the weight of his hard thrusting. Taunting and fucking as if he were attempting to put you through the mattress! Couldn’t support your own legs anymore? No problem because all one hundred ninety five pounds of him kept you in place whilst that third leg of his drilled into your tightness, facing zero regard for the way you were shaking underneath him. The way you pawed at his six pack only to be slapped away so viciously and your jaws to be squeezed in his clutch. “Move your hand!” You couldn’t get so much as a gasp out as he continued pounding your little sex with all of his might. Cream was profusely leaking..practically dripping down that dick and sack as he kept going. Your titties were swaying around outside of that tank top, bouncing everywhere and looking so good, all for his viewing pleasure. In addition to that expression on your face as you were obviously nearing your climatic peak. He found it so funny how quickly that shift came once he got up in it.
“That’s fine. I don’t need you to do shit else but nut on this fucking dick. You can handle that, can’t you?”
you didn’t want to cave..give him the sheer satisfaction of seeing you submit but you’d be a bold face liar if you said that shit didn’t feel amazing. Especially with that hand around your neck and that thumb on your clit..stroking so gently that the minute bundle of sensitive nerves were already overstimulated. That swollen little bud twitching underneath the touch. It didn’t help matters any when he allowed a slow string of saliva to trickle down onto it either. It was blatantly obvious that you were trying to deny him that orgasm and in turn, prompt him to come instead by clamping down on his shaft but in that same breath, it was clear that his resolve was a little stronger than yours. You always had a habit of nutting quickly which would be your downfall right now.
“You can try to hold back all you want, baby but you will come f’r me. I don’t give a damn how long it takes…stubborn ass always wants to make things difficult, I swear.”
so casually pointing out one of your character flaws as he resides in your guts..something only he would do.
“Ah!—haaaaaa..fuck! Fuck you..still a pussy.”
blurting out with all the strength you could muster, along with still attempting to push him away which was, again, of no use! Instead, it only fueled him further and lengthened your punishment. Reaching down for those panties you had spat out previously, he’d rope them around your wrists and bind your hands together. It was obvious he wasn’t fond of your disrespectful outbursts or foul mouth. It was going to make it all the more fun to wreck you however!
“Yeah and you're still a dumb slut. ‘Fuck did you think this was?”
still impaling you on that cock and feeding you more slaps in the process. You were folding and fast but you’d try to maintain the little semblance of control you had but sadly, it was dwindling and before long, you’d be unable to hold back. And that moment came a tad bit too soon for your liking because only a minute later, you were gasping for breath, wrinkling around in the sheets..a stream of sticky fluids squirting all over those abs as if you had sprang a leak. It went everywhere; wetting up his six pack and pelvis, absolutely flooding the bed but he didn’t care. That’s exactly what he wanted. To see you shaking and convulsing, so needy and dependent on his cock that you couldn’t function without him. And he was well on his way to achieving that with the way he just fucked the shit out of you. It was such a powerful orgasm that you’d begin to shed tears; overstimulated from attempting to edge yourself and failing miserably. You lacked the restraint for that sort of thing but it presented the perfect teaching opportunity as he was in the mood to train you anyways on what being disobedient got you. Pulling out for a split second, he’d allow that swollen shaft and seeping mushroom tip to flap against your folds and drum out more. You were inconsolable but the worst was yet to come. Grabbing you by your hair, he’d grasp it tightly whilst hissing and chuckling in your ear.
“I break brats like you for fun, baby. Remember that.”
before kissing your temple in the most condescending way; it was true, he was the literal definition of a brat tamer and done so with pride. In another sudden movement, he’d tug you by that freshly done hair that wasn’t so fresh anymore and pull you down until he had flipped you over onto your stomach. Keeping you reigned in with that fistful of 613 wavy; dyed and toned to a deeper blonde, Eren planted a heavy hand smack to your ass as he flayed you across his lap. Demanding that you arch your back and put your ass up in the air. It was in your best interest to follow instructions but you were dead set on being defiant. If for nothing else, get the treatment you had been so desperately craving. For him to fuck that attitude out of you!
“Lemme ask you something, baby. What did you really think was going to happen when you decided to pull that little stunt? Trying to embarrass me?…”
ensuring that you had no other choice but to look him in the eye with those fingers still intertwined between your locks as he tugged your head back. You were practically panting, drooling like the fucked out little whore you were. Mouth agape and eyes glazed over whilst he stared at you.
“What? You thought I was going to ignore that shit? Or maybe you thought I’d get jealous enough to hop online and clear it up. You thought I was the rest of these lame ass dudes. You’re as stupid as you are pretty.”
Uttering the last line with vitriol before landing the hardest slap to your backside he could muster. Spanking you a couple times with the same force until you were flailing around and more tears had fallen. You were gritting your teeth, trying to maintain that mean glare you were trying so desperately to portray to make it seem as if you were not enjoying yourself. But he knew that was a lie. His heavy hands colliding with your flesh eventually began to form a burgundy blip and quite the sting. In addition to being choked, you were starting to feel it. That pleasurable pain that came with rough sex. It was the only way he could get his frustrations out on you at this point because actual harm would never be an option for him. He just wanted to teach you a lesson..
“And you’re still acting like a bitch. Mad about a lil’ instagram story—“
blurting out before he began to spank you again and clutch your throat as well. This time with enough force to make you squirm and cry some more. Making sure you didn’t talk out of turn again. “Shut the fuck up.”
he could tell you were still angry with him, still wanting to get your point across but that was all of no concern to him. He didn’t care about your bratty ass attitude. It barely even phased him. That was until he saw those pretty little streaks coming down your face and those eyes all puffy. That jaw clenched so tight, it’d probably shatter your teeth. “Ooh..don’t look at me like that. Makes my dick hard when you cry for me.” Like a true goddamn sadist…of course, those tears weren’t enough and he had plans to drum out more. Continuing to paddle you with his hand; releasing primal grunts as he spread your ass apart, kneading his fingers into your flesh and even shove his fingers back into your pussy. Meanwhile, he was still filling your mouth with sloppy kisses and more saliva. Spitting into your oral cavity with no regard. “Get up..arch that back and spread that ass open. Now.” And this time, too sore and weak to do anything else, you’d follow suit and place both hands on that round bottom, letting your acrylic nails display across that dark skin as you opened up for him. He damn near lost his composure when he saw that asshole flexing and puckering on instinct. But he had to regroup, get back into his zone and keep going.
mounting behind you, Eren hooked his fingers together, kept them around your throat and pulled you back on him once again..impaling you.
“Haaa! Fuck!—“ yelping in a high pitched cry as he fed you heavy backshots. The fat of that round, plump ass bouncing against him. Ricocheting in a haze of thunderous claps. Your legs trembled profusely, gripping on the pillows in front of you and biting down in an attempt to quell the brunt of those brutal strokes but it was no use. The curvature of your spine fluctuated as he kept going until you eventually collapsed underneath the weight and he’d bog down, planking over your entire frame as he drilled deeper. Those balls colliding with your ass and smacking against the sticky folds between your thighs. He’d place a hand to the small of your back just to keep you planted firmly whilst the other rested palm down in the memory foam material in front of you. “Oh my gosh, right there!” You’d grasp for Eren’s wrist as some sort of leverage and a sign of comfort. But he wasn’t much in the business of coddling you right now. Instead, you’d watch that opposite hand snake around for a split second to retrieve your phone that was lying next to you..set ablaze with thousands of notifications from this app and that contact. None of which were important at the moment. But he had other plans and ways to use that cellular device right now.
“You love taking pictures so much, right baby? Always showing off..”
just then, you’d see the flash of your rear camera beaming down above you and hear the sound of your video starting. He’d record each movement of your clashing skin..tugging you back, spanking your cheeks with each thrust and even when he decided to slide his thumb into your puckering hole. You’d release a shrill cry, whimpering and moaning. It didn’t take long to realize what he was doing and you immediately tried to stop him.
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut up..you want to post everything, post this.”
taunting you with that lens pointed at your face as he began fiercely fucking up into you. So much so, that your face meshed into the pillows. Trying to look away from the camera. Drool spilling from your mouth and your eyes completely dazed..not the most aesthetically pleasing position you’ve found yourself in nor did you want the rest of the world seeing..
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
causing the two of you to begin laughing at the obvious truth. Which was far better than what was transpiring before.. “…shit..you got me.” eventually though, he’d save you from further embarrassment and let this sight be all for his own pleasure by tossing the phone aside. With your nails clawing into the sheets, (y/n) felt some semblance of control..somewhat able to gain leverage but soon, he’d take that away as well. Pulling your arms behind your back, he’d tug you up and continue drilling you from behind. Those sharp strokes were consistently hitting your core and soon enough, you were in the midst of another orgasm. Fluids puddling underneath you yet he gave you no leeway and just kept going. “Fuck..ion wanna fight with you anymore, princess. Your shit feels way too good for me to leave you alone.” Laughing as he reached underneath and massaged your clit to further increase that pressure. “Mmmph! Erennnn…I—“
it would seem that your pathetic moans had softened him just a bit because next thing you knew, he was leaning down to place kisses onto your shoulder blades and spine. “I know, baby..I know.” By now, he had you hooked into somewhat of a headlock position..almost as if he couldn’t make up his mind as to what he wanted to do with you. Perhaps that had something to do with him nearing his own climatic peak. You could feel that hard cock pulsating inside of you and soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead, his tongue out and his chest heaving..he was close. So close that he couldn’t even pretend that he was angry with you any longer. There was no more of keeping up this silly charade that you were mad. You couldn’t give up so easily..not when there was no man on this earth you wanted more. But he did have one thing to say to you, something that he was determined to drill into your head. Grasping your hair, he’d grunt into your ear..
“You’re mine, baby..you can’t leave me, alright? Promise me you’re not going anywhere..”
“I—ahh! I’m not…I’m sorry—“
“I’m sorry too, mama. Fuck!”
gasping with all that you could muster. And only seconds later, you felt him halt in his tracks and that warm fluid flowing into your womb. Letting out an ear shattering grunt, Eren pumped that nut into you and didn’t miss a beat. That hot, white load dripping from your battered cunt for the brief moment that he pulled out to switch positions..the mood had obviously shifted and the two of you were no longer at each other's throats and were instead shoving your tongues in each other’s mouths. “C’mere..give me a kiss.” Moaning and practically yearning for the other’s touch. Those hard pulls and smacks had slowed to tender grasps and Eren so lovingly brushed your face before pulling your hand along to climb on top of him. You didn’t even have time to exchange words, just tangled limb in limb as you made out in a passionate haze…feeling up your skin with his hands roaming your back and yours caressing his face. Leaving tender, warm kisses that made him melt for you all over again. With his lip quivering and eyes all glossed over, he’d glare up at you..begging for you to slide it back in as he was becoming far more spent than he hoped to admit. Even so, you’d do exactly that and place your hands on his chest in the process. “Oh my God…” “Oooh, baby..yes.” the cries leaving your mouths simultaneously as you impaled yourself on that throbbing erection. That mushroom tip splitting open your puffy folds yet again and emitting droplets of cum as it slid in. You were already full but he was hoping to stuff you to the brim. Hell, maybe he would get you pregnant tonight because that was the type of mood he was in. “This dick feels so good..I need all of it..” so desperately admitting as your ass slowly collided with his pelvis. “Take it then, baby. It’s yours.” Rocking back and forth, slowly grinding..going up and down on that cock. It took a moment to center yourself; to gain your balance but once you did, you were riding him to kingdom come. Fucking every bit of those frustrations out of him. Leaving a puddle of creamy, pearlescent fluid all over the base of his pelvis. And needless to say, he was loving every second!
“Ride that shit..oh fuck..” grunting with his arms folded behind his head as he casually enjoyed your ‘talents’. Including making circular motions..bouncing up and down as you propel yourself on his cock. His thick girth stretches you out with each one. Eventually, your head would fall backwards and you’d find yourself practically howling his name whilst still clawing at his chest. You were making an absolute mess of him and Eren was losing his mind! It was as if you were a completely different woman right now. One determined to drain him dry and milk him for every last remnant of his nut. He couldn’t slow you down, stop or even halt you right now. All he could do was toss his own head back and knead his fingers into the flesh of your ass. He’d leave a few light smacks to serve as encouragement but you needed no help whatsoever. You were in control now…
“Fuck me! Fuck me! Baby..yes.” crying out with his legs trembling and toes curling underneath you. The grip that tight little cunt had on him was about to drive this man insane and into another nut. Panting and wailing with his hands clutching your waist. Just then, he’d prompt you to sit still and let him fuck up into you..each sharp thrust hitting that sensitive core and causing yet another stream of sweet juices to come trickling down your thighs and onto his lap. But before you even had a chance to recover, he’d pull you back down and continue drilling until..
“Eren! Fuck!..”
“I’m coming, baby! Let me come in it—“
and before the sentence was completed, you were all but stuffed yet again. Letting him throb and pulsate inside of you as he emptied his seed in your womb. The two of you were clearly spent and quite honestly possessed no more energy to be angry. It was blatantly obvious that you had obviously forgiven one another as well. He ever so gently touched the side of your face yet again and glared into those gorgeous eyes. You’d lay flat against his chest and let him massage your back as well. And it’s then that he noticed a warm, dampened spot on his pecs and he’d tilt your chin up to see you sobbing. The intensity of the orgasms and the moment itself had seemed to overwhelm you quite a bit..
“Hey, princess..c’mere.” Coddling you in his grasp and hugging you tightly. He’d even cradle a palmful of your hair in his fingers and kiss your temple once more. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
and the response to his question nearly broke his heart in half. “I’m sorry..I just realized I don’t want to lose you. Do you really hate me? I know I did some stupid shit but I didn’t mean it.” And Eren nearly burst into tears himself but instead cradled you close and murmured into your ear. “..(y/n)..baby no. I could never hate you, even if I tried my hardest. I love you so much. That’s why I get so crazy behind you. Because I know there’s no one I want more.” Suddenly, he’d cup your face between his palms and plant a loving kiss on your forehead. No matter how mad you may have been at one another before or even if you screamed your lungs out, there wasn’t anything in this world that could break you apart. He had spent his entire life searching for a woman like you and there was no way that he could give it up so easily. Taking your fingers into his own, he’d clasp your fingers together..
“Do you mean that?”
“Never meant anything more in my entire life. Listen, if you ever feel neglected by me..like I’m not doing right, tell me. Please..I just wanna be the best man I can for you. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel less than your worth, princess.”
which is all it took for you to fall apart. Sniffling into his chest, you’d let Eren rub your back until he was able to console you. The two of you would just lie there; soaking in the moment and reveling in each other’s essence. Darkness had set over the room, as nighttime har set and you realized just how long you had been at it. Breaking into a soft giggle, you’d turn your face back towards him and for a few minutes, you’d just slowly let your tongues clash..exchanging sloppy kisses and practically wanting to live in one another’s skin.
“Hey, why don’t we get up from here, go take a bath and order some food? How’s that sound for you?” All of it sounded absolutely perfect to you and without question, you’d accept. He just wanted to spend all the time getting close, holding and keeping you by his side. He’d take however long you two needed to get back to the way it was. No amount of albums, Instagram posts or anything else mattered more in this world.
than the love you two shared.
4K notes · View notes
joelsdagger · 2 months
Text
all the things i would do
Tumblr media
read on ao3 follow @joelsdagger-updates for more to come :) resources on how to help Palestine here <3
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: porn no plot. joel finds an article of clothing of yours and there’s nothing holding him back once he gets his hands on them. 
rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI 
content warnings: [Post Outbreak], established relationship, implied age gap (25+ years), joel is canon age, slightly domestic joel (blink and it’s gone), joel has a panty kink, panty sniffing, masturbation (m), soft dom!joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, pet names (use of baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, love), smidgen of fluff (these two are so in love it’s sickening), an inkling of a size kink (but in my head joel’s at least 6’5, he’s a BIG big man in my brain), joel’s filthy mouth, praise kink, hint of sub!joel, nipple play, one use of the word ‘Daddy’ (moots don’t look at me I couldn’t help it), slight tummy kink/tummy worship, cum eating.  No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader other than having hair long enough that it’s past her shoulders. 
word count: 3.1k
A/N: so, a few things before we get started. i’m new to writing fics and this is my first time publicly putting out a fic that wasn’t just for shits and giggles for my friends and i and i’m so fucking nervous like the amount of times i’ve panicked over this is a little embarrassing to admit but we ball. that being said, i love and welcome constructive criticism as long as you’re nice about it. there was an alternative version of this, it’s more like a deviation (literally sitting in my drafts as we speak) but reader is more involved in the situation, if y’all still wanna read that, just let me know and i’ll work on getting it out for you guys. finally, shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo for encouraging me to actually write this all those months ago and for all your brilliant ideas and encouragement and practically holding my hand through it since day one, @aurasjournal for being such a gem and helping me with the cover for this fic and hyping me up, and thank you to @papurgaatika and @nevergoingbacknowshine for being so kind and encouraging and listening to my 3am rants when i was anxious. another big thank you to kat, aura, and naya for beta reading and helping me during the editing process. all four of you have been absolute sweethearts despite me being a pussy about posting this. okay i’m done rambling, enjoy some of the filth that constantly plagues my brain <3 
Joel’s eyes blink open slowly, the sun peeks into the bedroom through the curtains across the room. For a moment he searches for you beside him, but remembers you’ve already left for the day out on patrol duty. Joel harrumphs, still bothered over letting you and Ellie bully him out of his patrol duties. “You’ve been hurting yourself too much baby,” You had told him a few weeks ago over breakfast. “Yeah, you’re an old man now. You fall over one more time and you’re done.” Ellie snickers from her seat in the kitchen. Joel just rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the dishes, but you had caught the small grin on his face when he turned his head back to the sink. Against the two of you, Joel never stood a chance.
Joel drags himself out of bed towards his dresser to grab a new set of clothes. He throws on a blue shirt that fits a little snug on his well built form, the thin material stretches over his broad shoulders, across his strong back, and pulls taut over his biceps and he grunts as he pulls a pair of dark wash jeans over his strong, thick thighs, securing them in place with a distressed leather belt that he’s had for years. Once he’s dressed, he takes in the mess in the room. He notices both of your clothes from the night before are still scattered around the room.  He bends down to pick them up, he grunts as his knees pop when he stands back up. He starts gathering them up to toss them into the hamper already overflowing with clothes. The last article of clothing out of place is yours. Your black lace panties on the armchair in the corner. He grabs them and his eyes widen when he feels it, the center still wet from him making you come earlier. His cock instantly hardened in his jeans.  
Joel turns on his heel and in just a few long strides he’s in your shared bathroom. He deliberately avoids the mirror, knowing that if he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror he’ll disgust himself even more. Briskly, he sets the laundry hamper on the tile near the bathtub. Joel brings the thin black lace up to his face, closes his eyes and he sniffs them, breathing you in completely. He groans at the scent of you. His cock painfully hard now. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it. He’s addicted to you and he knows he can’t wait til you get home. He knows he can’t wait to have his way with you, dig into you any way that you will let him. So, without another second of hesitation, Joel unbuckles his belt, a clink from the metal hitting the edge of the counter, unzips his jeans and takes his thick, heavy cock out, and then brings your soaked panties to his angry, leaking tip. His precum meets the wetness of your panties and he hisses at the feeling. With the wetness of the gusset of your panties acting as a lubricant, Joel begins to slowly stroke himself, wanting to take his time, savoring every feeling, relishing in it. Joel soon becomes too desperate for release, he quickly loses control, his hips moving faster to fuck his hand, his hand tightening around his cock, the grip almost painful now. His eyes are screwed shut, as he throws his head back, the night before instantly replaying in his head.
He had just gotten out of the shower to find you sprawled out on your stomach on your side of the bed, ankles crossed in the air. He rakes his eyes over your form until his eyes land on your ass. You were wearing the panties he was currently fucking his hand with. You didn’t notice him stepping out of the bathroom, too busy looking at the photo album you had just put together. It’s relatively new, most of the pages empty, yet you were looking at the photos you had taken earlier that week at the Tipsy Bison. The one that had your attention was a photo of you and Joel that Ellie had taken. Neither of you looked at the camera, the photo had captured you mid-laugh, head tilting back, eyes shut, it was a full belly laugh at something Joel had said. Joel’s arm was around your shoulder tucking you into his side, smiling down at you, a rare type of smile, one reserved only for you. 
Leaning on the entryway, his arms crossed over his broad, tanned chest, he smiles at the view. You’re in nothing but your panties in his bed, in his home. His feet move without thinking, walking over to you. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, tracing his fingers over your soft supple skin down your back and over the lace of your panties, and lightly pinches your ass. “So pretty sweet baby,” he says shyly, almost like he’s speaking to himself. You turn your head to look up at him, smiling. Wordlessly, he took the photo album from your hands, placing it on your nightstand. He gets in the bed, carefully sitting on his knees while attempting to avoid loosening the off-white towel around his waist. You roll onto your back to face him, his silver curls still damp from the shower as water still drips onto his strong shoulders. He combs his hair back after a shower and the ends tend to curl up around his ears. It’s been months since you last cut his hair but you like his hair longer, you had whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom, your naked, sweaty limbs tangled up together between his sheets. From that night on he hasn’t asked you to cut it for him. He likes it because you like it. 
While you’re busy ogling him, Joel’s hands immediately reach to trace the floral lace pattern before toying with the little satin black bow at the center front. His rough, calloused hands slide up your bare thighs, wrapping his large hands around your thighs and he pries open your legs, his hazel eyes locked in on your center like a bullseye and you notice the cocky smirk he’s got plastered on his face, pleased with himself that he’s already got you wet for him. 
He brings two thick fingers to slide over your covered cunt. He feels the wetness on the material and he pulls back to look up at you and finds your attention on his fingers. “What a mess you made, pretty girl,” he murmurs. You’re watching the movement of his fingers, entranced by his fingers teasing your pussy as he glides them up and down your slit. He clicks his tongue at you, “so wet for me huh baby? Always so wet for me. So perfect,” he smirks to himself as he gently pulls your panties to the side, revealing your aching, needy cunt. He lowers his head placing gentle kisses on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his lips tracing and peppering your skin all the way towards your center, his mouth hovering over the place you need him most and you shiver beneath him. 
“Joel,” you whisper, he chuckles seeing you all worked up for him. “Baby please,” you whimper. 
“What is it baby?” he tuts, “use your words, sweet girl,” he tilts his head slightly with a smug grin on his face. His fingers move up and down your folds. 
“N-need them inside me, p-please,” you whimper as you claw at his forearms, clutching them for stability. 
“Alright baby, lemme taste her first,” He lays flat on his stomach, moves his arms under your legs, and hoists them up over his broad shoulders. He lowers his mouth onto your cunt and the tip of his tongue licks through your folds. He hums at the sweet taste of you on his tongue. He flattens his tongue and licks a long thick stripe and he groans lowly, the vibrations making you squirm under him. 
“Fuck, more baby,” you beg. You gasp at the hook of his nose bumping your clit. Your hands fly to his hair, eyes closing swiftly, brows furrowed as you let out a loud moan. 
“There she is,” he smirks. He flicks his tongue over your clit. His eyes slip closed as he relishes in the noises leaving your mouth, like music to his ears. Your hips buck up into his face, selfishly grinding your cunt for more. Joel’s eyes flicker back up your face, “eyes on me sweetheart,” he murmurs. Your eyes snap open to watch him as he brings his fingers back up to your cunt, two thick fingers dip into you and you can hear the wet squelch as he eases his fingers in, simultaneously, he circles his tongue around your clit. He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you, his tongue lapping at your cunt. You feel the pressure building up more intensely inside of your belly and then you’re chanting his name as he curls his fingers inside you, petting at the spongy spot he knows will break you. He closes his mouth around your clit and he sucks hard. 
“Fuck, Joel, yes yes,” Your hips bucking up into his face, your legs start to shake as you come on his face and your cunt tightening around his fingers, a loud strangled moan filling the air. 
“That’s my girl,” he says as he watches you gasp above him, pressing a quick kiss to your clit. Your eyes flutter open just in time to see him removing his fingers, all wet and shiny, and putting them in his slick covered mouth, sucking them clean. 
Softly, he grabs your ankles, pulling you down towards the edge of the bed eliciting a giggle. His favorite sound…well one of his favorites. His favorite being the next sound that comes out of your mouth when he quickly pulls your panties down. He sees the wet shine of your cum in the center and his face lights up with glee. “You made such a mess ‘a your panties, baby,” he tuts before tossing them across the room. He unties the towel from his waist and lets it fall and it pools around his legs, revealing his thick, heavy cock, the tip angry and beads of precum seeping out of the slit. You place your hands around your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, presenting your already spent pussy to him once again and he groans roughly.
He leans forward, his fingers running through your folds once more, and you quiver at his touch. He gathers your cum on his fingers and strokes himself twice before he dips the wide tip of his cock inside of you. A whine leaves your lips. That. That was his favorite sound. He doesn’t push in further… he doesn’t move an inch. He’s teasing you…wants you to ask nicely for it. Like clockwork his voice laced with honey he says “Ask for it baby, ask for my cock.” 
Desperate, you whine again “please joel… I need your cock.” Your needy fingers trail lightly over his soft belly, sitting up slightly, you place soft kisses from his belly button down to the dark patch of hair above his cock, his body trembles at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his belly and a breathy moan escapes his lips. He laces his fingers with yours, bringing your hands near your head, his large form encompassing your smaller frame, he lowers himself down over you, his lips brushing against yours. “Baby, please. Please fuck my pussy” you mewl. He pushes his cock deeper, deeper, and deeper til the head of his cock kisses your cervix, provoking a loud groan from him against your ear as he nestles himself into you, where he belongs. 
“See baby all you had to do was ask politely” Joel cooes. He drags his hips back, leaving only his tip inside you once again and you clench around him. “Fuck, goddamn you’re fucking tight,” he grits. Slowly he starts thrusting his tip in and out. 
You whine again, “Baby don’t be mean. I want all of it.” 
“Shh..I know baby, I know,” he soothes. Then in one long single thrust, he wedges his cock back inside of you to the hilt, bottoming out into your cunt, hitting the spot that only he knows with a loud ragged groan into the crook of your neck. His cock is stretching you out, feeling every twitch, he’s everywhere and it’s overwhelming. He hitches your legs up towards your chest, opening you up more, your chest pressed tightly against his, he drags the weight of his cock languidly between your slick, moaning at the wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room. 
When you look up at him it’s like you can see a lightbulb go off in his head and before you know it, Joel’s large hands grab the swell of your ass, he picks you up, and repositions you both so he’s on his back and has you sitting on his thick cock. He wants you to ride him. In this position you can feel him in the deepest parts of your belly and it hurts just a little bit but you find pleasure in it, you always have.  
Leaning forward, you place your hands on the headboard and arching your back a bit more, Joel's head falls back down onto the pillows. At the sudden change of the angle, his eyes shut for just a second before he’s snapping them right back open. He doesn’t want to miss a single thing. He wants to see it all.  He watches how your breasts bounce as you move and quickly, he leans up to catch a nipple in his mouth. He’s licking and sucking all over your pebbled nipple and then his teeth graze along the hardened peak before swiftly pulling it between his teeth. He moves onto the other and he flicks his tongue over your nipple, he sucks and nips at it lightly before he lets your tit fall from his mouth, admiring the slight bounce of your breast before his eyes lock in on your face, watching your face contort and your mouth open while you seek your high. It's his favorite thing, watching you like this. 
“Jesus Christ, look at you, you’re takin’ me so well,” he groans. 
The grip of his hands on your hips tightens but doesn’t guide you, just seeks some ounce of control. You lean forward more so your clit brushes ever so slightly against the dark patch of curls at his base. The friction makes you approach your orgasm quickly. Joel’s eyes flicker down to where you two are connected, taking pleasure in seeing his cock splitting you open, watching as it disappears deep inside of you. 
“That’s it, baby. Fuck….use me. Fuck yourself on daddy’s cock, atta girl,” You roll your hips faster, grinding harder on his cock, greedy and desperate to come again. “C’mon baby, come all over my cock.” 
His words and your clit repeatedly pressing against him make your hips stutter and you clench around him as your orgasm finally washes over you, harder than before. Your body goes limp on his chest. Joel doesn’t let up, he grabs your thighs and lifts his hips, relentlessly fucking his cock up into you. His cock slams into you so hard the wet slapping sound of your bodies fills the room. 
You turn your head and press your lips to his ear, nipping at his earlobe, you spur him on “c’mon Joel, come for me baby,” you softly rasp. “C’mon baby, for me, do it for me love,” you whisper and he whimpers, his thrusts becoming faster, more erratic. You bite down on his shoulder to muffle the whines that leave your mouth as he fucks into you harder, your walls tighten around him, his cock twitches inside you before he hastily pulls out with a long pained groan and with his cock between your bodies, his cum spurts out, thick and warm, coating his stomach. A moment passes and you lower your lips down his chest, feeling the rough edges of his skin underneath your lips as you pepper open mouthed kisses along his strong torso, the soft skin of his belly, over the jagged scar on his lower abdomen, all the way down his happy trail, you feel him shiver beneath you. 
You sit up on his thighs, locking your eyes with his, you bring your fingers down to his cum on his stomach. You look back up at him, your gaze meeting his as you swirl your fingers twice in his spend and bring your shiny, sticky coated fingers up to your mouth, closing your lips around your fingers, sucking them clean. His mouth agape, he’s staring back at you while you use your fingers to lick up his cum, “dirty girl, one’a these days you’re gonna gimme a heart attack woman,” he groans. 
The memory of it all…you riding him, your naked breasts bouncing, his cock impaling you, watching it disappear inside you over and over, your cunt clamping down around his cock and the echo of your moans as you came last night playing in his head sends him hurtling over the edge.
His cock twitches in his hand, his other hand slamming down on the counter, he groans your name raggedly and his thighs quiver as he comes hard into his fist, harder than he ever has when jerking himself off. He pumps his release into your panties, hot, thick ropes of his cum painting your panties. His cum spurting out seemingly endless for a man his age. 
If you were here in front of him he would pull the fabric up over your thighs, making you wear your cum filled panties before going about the rest of your day.
But you’re not here so instead he brings the cum soaked panties up to his face, eyeing his spend and your wetness for a moment. He stops himself and contemplates the idea in his head as he eyes the glistening sheen over the center. Just as quickly as the thought infiltrated his head, he decides against it and bunches up the thin material and tosses them in the old laundry basket sat in the corner of your shared bathroom. Joel tucks himself back into his jeans, washes his hands, limping slightly as he walks out of your bedroom and closes the door behind him leaving your laundry for another day.
1K notes · View notes
star-sim · 2 months
Text
his "oh" moment ☆ enha hyungs
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☆ non-idol! enhypen hyungs x fem! reader ☆ summary: the exact moment that your enha boy realized he loved you. ☆ genre: fluff, down bad boys, very domestic and intimate, can be interpreted as either pre-relationship or established relationship, wtv u want :) ☆ warning(s)? no, theyre all just so atrociously down bad ☆ word count: 1.3k total
Tumblr media
heeseung just came back from a little run to the convenience store for snacks. when he asked you if you wanted to come with him, you only smiled and said that you'd stay in his apartment to watch the boiling pot of ramyeon that you were preparing.
it was 3am when he ventured out into the cold, night air, pulling his hood over his ears. as the bag filled with all of your favorite drinks crinkled under his fingertips, heeseung slipped his housekey into the keyhole, sniffling softly from the cold.
as he cracked the door open, he was met with warm, orange light, warm air, and the smell of his favorite ramyeon.
"i'm back!" he shouted from the door, slipping his shoes off. you didn't hear him, so he just made his way into the kitchen.
the sight he saw before him was enough to make heeseung's heart skip a beat.
there you were, humming quietly to yourself as you graced his kitchen. lost in your own world, almost like the only thing that matter to you in that moment was the small pot of hot ramyeon, the same one that you always made when you were with him because you knew that he loved it. the way his kitchen lights shone down on you made you glow, almost like you were a saint to be venerated.
the sound of heeseung's breath getting caught in his throat caught your attention.
you turned over your shoulder, and the moment that you eyes met his, you expression melted into a smile— the one where your lips lifted so that he could see your teeth, your eyes forming thin crescents as your nose crinkled— the smile that heeseung swore he saw in his dreams.
"welcome back, hee," your voice greeted him.
as those words tumbled from your lips, heeseung's eyes widened into saucers as his heart dropped to his stomach.
he wouldn't mind hearing you say that to him everyday for the rest of his life. the thought of him coming home to you everyday, seeing your pretty, smiley face as you said his name, made heeseung light-headed, his face becoming the same color as the red broth of your ramyeon.
shit.
Tumblr media
jay didn't think what he just said was really that funny.
it was a small, off-hand comment that he made, a mere remark that was miniscule in the grand scheme of things.
but the way that you keeled over yourself, your eyes squeezed shut yet tears spilled out of them, gripping onto the table as you laughed, told him otherwise. you struggled to form words, constantly cutting yourself off with laughter, wheezing so hard jay was worried that you'd stop breathing.
the sound of your laugh was like music to his ears. jay couldn't help the small, dumb grin that began to bleed onto his face; it started with his chest filling with warmth, rising up his neck, to his ears, and finally his lips. one corner of his lip raised slowly, before the other one did. his lips wobbled, watching you as you wiped a tear from your eye, until he couldn't hold it back anymore, and the smile that he tried so hard to swallow back unraveled across his features.
"st-stop!" you cried as laughter erupted from your chest, throwing your head back. you cheeks were beginning to hurt, but jay's words kept reverberating in your head. "i-i'm gonna pee myself!"
that's when jay laughed.
"shut up," he said, but no matter what he did to push the sound of your laughter to the back of his head, there was nothing he could do.
his cheeks were already too red, his heart already pounding in his chest like a drum, this memory already cemented into his head.
and plus, he already made up his mind: he could get used to hearing your laugh everyday.
or even better, he wouldn't mind being the reason for your laughter.
Tumblr media
jake had no idea how his brother did it, how his brother managed to have a kid and not snap into a million pieces.
but as you held his infant nephew, cooing at his small hands and chubby cheeks, jake felt his entire world pummel to his feet.
"hi baby!" you cooed to the child, your knees folded below you as you helped jake babysit his nephew. when the baby babbled back, soft and sweet giggles fell from your lips, you laid on your back, holding the baby over you.
you gently rocked the baby in the air, relishing in the way that it let out small and high-pitched giggles.
jake watched. the way your touch was so gentle, pulling the child to your chest as you cuddled with him. your tenderness was so... soft. so soft that it made jake's brows furrow together, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, in order to hide the look of pure stupid that was threatening to seep through his expression.
you were so warm, so kind, so affectionate, that it made jake feel all mushy inside, like he was going to evaporate.
he sucked in a sharp breath, trying to keep the palpitations in his chest at bay, trying to keep the ache in his heart from consuming him whole.
"i didn't know you were so good with kids," he said to you, kneeling beside your figure that embraced his baby nephew. his tone was half-teasing, but jake knew better. there was a war raging on in him, and frankly, he wasn't going to win.
the more he watched you, the more everything became clear to him.
maybe he wouldn't mind having kids, if it's with you.
Tumblr media
sunghoon had a strict sleep schedule, one that he would do anything to protect.
as his phone illuminated his bedroom, the blue light gleaming so bright that someone could go blind, and as that godforsaken ringtone shook sunghoon awake, he thought that he was going to punch someone.
but the moment his half-asleep eyes traced the letters of your name, his finger darted to answer your call, no questions asked.
"hello?" he rubbed his tired eyes, yawning, yet with no intention of going back to sleep. after all, it was you.
"hooooon," your voice slurred on the other line. he could hear loud music in the background.
"are you drunk?" he asked, worried. his brows crashed together, concern bubbling in his chest. "where are you?"
you laughed, the sweet sound almost making sunghoon feel at ease. "at the cluuubbb."
"shit," sunghoon muttered under his breath.
"don't worry about me!" you reassured him. "not drunk.... hehe!"
sunghoon was already grabbing his coat and keys, slamming his front door.
it was only when you snuggled up against him in the backseat of his car, pushing your cheeks into the crook of his neck and clutching his arm, that everything came crashing down on sunghoon's shoulders.
it was a quiet realization, like the small light that had always been glimmering inside him suddenly flickered on. it was no surprise to him: a silent and hushed wave of fulfillment crashing onto the seashore that was his heart, before fizzling out into white seafoam.
his eyes traced your features under the dim light, taking in the faint scent of your perfume.
you muttered his name, reaching out for him, and all he could do was feel his heart throb for a few pulses, before sucking in a sharp breath and letting a curve form on his lips.
"i'm here," he said quietly into your ear. "i'm always here."
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
sweetiecutie · 4 months
Note
Hi!!!!!!!!! I absolutely adore your underbed monster! Simon fics! I was wondering if you could write another one with more fluff? Just domestic stuff, like him curling around the reader while they sleep or something like that. Just him being a sweet, happy little housecat, I guess. Anyway, I love all your stuff! You're amazing! Thank you!
part 1 || part 2 || part 4
Domestic hc’s about underbed monster!Simon
Underbed monster! Simon gives off big fat moody cat vibes. He doesn’t like it when you try to initiate any contact in the very beginning, hissing surly whenever you peeked underneath your bed to check up on him or ignoring you blatantly when you tried talking to him. You’re his first friendly human as well, it’s just against Simon’s nature to be anything but hostile and mean to people (he’s a sleep demon after all), but he’s trying his best.
The first actual improvement in your “relationship” was when you pushed a few chocolate candies under your bed - “here, maybe you’ll like them”. Simon didn’t react to that in any way, slumbering quietly underneath the mattress, not acknowledging you in any way. So you just shrugged, going back to minding your own business. As you woke up the morning, the sweetest dreams following you throughout the whole night, shiny candy wrappers scattered on the floor caught your attention, two wide red eyes staring at you from within the darkness as you peeked under your bed to check on your not so little monster.
If underbed monster! Simon feels like you’re not giving him enough attention creature, as a brat that he is, will give you some trouble, letting you know that he is not pleased with how you treat him (he literally was torturing you with horrifying nightmares the first few weeks after you moved in). He’ll hide your stuff so that you’ll have to plea and sweet talk with him to give it back, or even push your favourite mug with still hot tea over the edge of your working desk, smashing pretty ceramic and spilling aromatic infusion all over the place. Is it a sign clear enough for you to stop your silly typing on your laptop and coddle your monster for a bit?
But the more you get to know each other - the clingier Simon gets. Curling himself around your calfs while you work on your laptop, or acting as your backpack while you cook, causing you to grumble about his additional weight hurting your back. If underbed monster feels good enough, he may even fetch some stuff for you, but you better thank him profusely and praise him for his attentiveness - otherwise he’d get grumpy and may give you some shit again.
So, underbed monster! Simon is sort of your pet at this point - a huge, terrifying, dangerous pet. But he will hide his deadly tentacles for a few minutes and show off his tummy for some rubs once you’re back home from work, carrying a fresh pack of sweets for him<3
Likes, regblogs and comments are highly appreciated, give writers some love! Requests are open - send me some silly stuff<3
2K notes · View notes
wttcsms · 1 year
Text
these eyes were made for lookin’ at you (only you) ; simon “ghost” riley.
pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 5.6k synopsis simon riley didn’t ask to be a hero, but he finds himself wanting to be yours. content contains hints to human traff/icking (not explicit), breeding kink, belly bulge, size difference, pet names/terms of endearment (pretty girl, baby, love, darling, sweetheart), soft!ghost, obsessive!ghost, domesticity, mutual pining, praise kink, probably ooc!ghost but the man is absolutely whipped for you, clothed sex (his uniform is on), minor depictions of violence
Tumblr media
He doesn’t quite consider himself a hero, you know.
He’s got a foul mouth, a sense of humor that borders between too dry or too dark, and so much blood on his hands that he’s surprised to see they’re not red when he pulls off his gloves and runs them under scalding hot water.
There will be no parades in his honor. No little boys running up to him on the streets, proclaiming that they want to be just like him. No statues to be sculpted to remember him by whenever he meets his inevitable end, six feet under. He probably won’t even be a memory after death.
And he’s come to terms with all of this, of course. It’s not like he cares — he didn’t sign up to do this shit for the glory or because he wanted to be considered a hero. He did it because someone out there had to be the person willing to do anything for the betterment of everyone.
Perhaps that makes him heroic in some sense; again, he doesn’t particularly care.
Until you.
Until one mission sends you into his direct orbit, knocking everything he’s ever known out of its place. It’s disorienting, confusing—
—exhilarating.
He doesn’t get scared anymore, but there’s something inherently frightening about wanting to share parts of yourself — of your very being, of your soul — to someone. He’s not quite able to label any of the emotions he feels for you the first time he sees you, but he feels enough to know that if he wants to save himself, he should put as much distance between the two of you as he possibly can.
(It turns out that this lieutenant doesn’t have as great of a sense of self-preservation as he proclaims.)
You cling to his arm, ignoring the way your palm digs and presses into the hard armor and tactical gear he sports. You think he might shake you off or forcefully pull you off of him, but he does neither. The soldier freezes, just for a second, and then he turns to face you.
If this is what the Grim Reaper looks like, perhaps death isn’t such an unfavorable ending. You can’t make out any physical features of your savior’s face, save for the pair of dark eyes staring right at you.
The skull mask does its job of securing his identity, but he should consider wearing goggles, you think. You’re not certain, but you think his eyes must be his most incriminating feature. You think if he gave you a proper minute to look at him, the image of his eyes would be ingrained in your memory. You’d be able to recognize him by them alone.
“Do you understand me?”
The gruff voice must be coming from him, if the subtle movements underneath his mask are any indication. He’s staring straight ahead now, watching as the rest of his team begins to usher the other girls who were stolen alongside you into large trucks. Maybe they’re tanks. You’re not quite sure.
“You must not then, yeah?” When he speaks, every word seems to be just the slightest bit rough around the edges. His accent is oddly nice; from the way he delivers his comments, though, you’re left wondering if he is, too.
He must be — nice, that is. A nice man would let you continue to grip his arm for support, even though you’re capable of standing on your own. A nice man would save you from the hell you’ve been subjected to for… Months? Has it been months? Shorter, maybe? Or longer? Time passes differently when all you want to do is die.
“I understand,” you finally answer him. You think your words must come out a little rough, too. The air in this area seems hard to breathe in, and you’re not sure when was the last time you even drank anything. You say it so quietly, you’re afraid that you’ll have to force yourself to speak up, but he nods.
“You’ll be safe now.”
Looking back, those might have just been words meant to comfort you, but you trust this masked man. You don’t know him (not yet), but the way he says it sounds like he means it.
(He means it.)
Tumblr media
He goes by Ghost.
He doesn’t tell you why, and you don’t unnecessarily pry yourself into his business.
He doesn’t even tell you the name himself; you hear it from the mouths of the other officers, the other men who helped in rescuing you and the others.
The man who took you — the one in charge of shipping and selling the girls — won’t be giving you any more problems, now. He won’t hurt you again, isn’t even capable of touching you ever again. This is what Ghost reassures you with, and you nod, believing him.
After all, you witnessed him slice the asshole’s neck. You watched the blood spill out of his body. You were being ushered away at the time, but you still found the strength to turn around to watch him die.
You still haven’t found yourself able to detach yourself from him, and he hasn’t found the strength to shake you off just yet. Your fingers look dainty compared to the bulk of his arm, and the uniform he’s wearing only serves to add to his overall mass. You should want to put some distance between you and him; you know what men are like. You know it doesn’t take much for them to snap and change their demeanors in an instant. With the strength you’ve already witnessed and the sheer size of him, you know fighting him off wouldn’t even be realistic. But you still find yourself refusing to leave him alone, as if the evil he just destroyed will come back to life and hunt you down the very moment your savior leaves you.
It’s why you’re in a separate vehicle from the rest of the rescued girls. It’s just the two of you in the back, and the only noise you can hear is the loud huffs from the engine and the sound of tires speeding on rough terrain.
“When we return, there will be people who will come collect you and the others. They’ll clean you up and help you get back on your feet. You’ll be able to start a new life.”
A new life?
The thought excites you.
You don’t know what awaits you outside. When you were a little girl, you were still allowed to bask in the outdoors. The warmth of the sun, the feel of a soft breeze brushing against your skin — sometimes, when you were chained and in your cell, cowering in the dark, you wished that you hadn’t taken advantage of those little luxuries.
“In this life… I will feel the sun?” He hears the innocence in your voice, your question filled with longing and maybe even excitement. It was just past dusk when they rescued you; it’s now nighttime, and he feels himself wishing he had the power to bring the sun down from the sky and present it to you.
“In this life, you’ll be able to do anything you want.”
He’ll personally see to it if he has to.
Tumblr media
You had fallen asleep by the time you reached your destination. With one mission successfully completed, Ghost finds himself with another almost immediately after, and with the peaceful expression on your face and the fact that this facility is one of the most secure buildings in the world, he leaves you—
—only to return back to the facility in a little over two weeks.
It’s not as if there’s someone waiting for him in the empty residence he calls home. Besides, it’s only natural — human, even — for him to be curious as to how you’re doing. While he trusts that you’re safe, he finds himself, in between lulls on missions, wondering how you’re adjusting.
(And in the rare moments where he finds himself fighting off exhaustion — the only telltale sign that he’s still flesh and blood and not the phantom his enemies think he is — he finds himself wondering if you’re thinking about him too.)
What did you see when you stared at him that day? He had killed a man — killed many men, actually — without mercy, without hesitation. He’s done it so many times throughout his life that wielding a weapon has become second nature to him.
Sometimes he even feels like he’s the weapon.
And again, he doesn’t care about whether or not he’s deemed a good person or a hero, but he doesn’t want to be a nightmare to you. He can still feel the ghost of your touch lingering on his left arm, the arm that you had clutched the day he rescued you. If not for the employees confirming your presence and guiding him to your room, he would be almost convinced that you’re a dream he thought up himself.
“Poor girl,” the woman leading way is telling him. “She’s been having the worst time out of all the others. I’m not surprised, hearing what they must have had to endure all that time, but the sweetheart can’t even sleep without us sedating her.”
“What?”
The low timbre of his voice makes the word sound more like a growl.
Seemingly shocked at his reaction, the woman almost pauses in her steps before continuing. “Yes, she’s been having nightmares. Thrashing wildly in her sleep, screaming the first few nights, even.” And then, almost as if she’s trying to make him feel better, she adds, “But she’s much better now. Save for a few sobs every now and then.”
He doesn’t know what to make of that. If it had been someone physically tormenting you, he would have no issue in getting rid of the source of your pain. Demons who only appear in nightmares, though — that’s something not even he can fight off for you.
When they make it to your door, the woman knocks gently, calling out your name softly, almost as if she does anything too harshly, you’ll break down.
“I brought someone here who wants to see you, hon. I’m going to come in now, okay?”
The woman eyes him almost warily as if she’s just now taking him in. He didn’t bother changing out of his usual uniform, telling the helicopter pilot that picked him up after his most recent mission to take him directly here instead. In his defense, he hadn’t even anticipated you still being here.
But you are.
He’s well aware that he probably doesn’t look the nicest, his mask serving its purpose and obscuring his whole entire face, making him entirely unreadable. If you’re as skittish as the woman claims you are, perhaps it’ll be for the best if he leaves now.
But it’s too late. She’s opening the door and never one to hesitate, he’s stepping in. The woman doesn’t follow; instead, she shuts the door, most likely ready to call for backup if anything were to happen to you.
You look at him, and then a second later, recognition gleams in your eyes.
Now that it’s not as dark, he’s able to take in every single feature of your face, from the color of your eyes down to the slope of your nose and the shape of your pretty lips. He commits your visage to memory.
“It’s you,” you breathe out, sitting up straighter on your bed. “The man who saved me.”
And if the near reverent way you greet him isn’t enough to have him reeling, the next words you say have his heart freefalling:
“You’re my hero.”
You speak to him so sweetly, in a tone so soft that the words you say wrap around him like a warm blanket. No one has ever said that to him. No one has ever spoken to him the way you do.
He swallows hard, and for the first time in his life, he’s unsure of what to do.
“Have you been alright?” He asks, and your expression falls almost immediately.
You answer him after a few seconds of silence.
“Yes.”
You little liar.
“I’m very comfortable here, but I’ve seen many of the others getting ready to travel elsewhere. The people here are kind, and they tell me they have many houses I can choose from. They’ll help me find work and…” Your voice trails off, and he watches the way your hands curl around the bedsheets. “I’ll be normal. Find a husband, make a family, forget all about this.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yeah.”
You’ll learn soon enough that he doesn’t like lying.
He moves quicker than someone his size should be able to; stealthy, too. You don’t catch his movements, but you blink, and suddenly he’s right in front of you, crouched down so he’s able to look you in the eyes.
You were right. You are able to recognize him by his eyes alone.
“You don’t have to lie to me, you know.” When he speaks, you can’t help but hang on to every word. You find yourself nodding. “You’ll answer me honestly then?”
You nod again, this time a bit quicker.
“Good girl.” You hear the approval in his deep tone of voice, and you almost wish you hadn’t. You didn’t know what it’s like to be fed such praise, and you’re stuck starving for it now. “How have you been?”
“Alright. I’m happy to be here, but I—” Your voice cracks, and so does something inside of him. You look down, suddenly more interested in your sock-covered feet rather than his eyes. “Everyone else is able to move on so quickly, or they have someone waiting for them. I have no one. No one is looking for me. No one is expecting me.”
The realization of your reality finally settles in for you with your confession. You were born into that fate; the other girls who used to occupy the cells next to you were stolen. By all means, you were assigned to die there. There isn’t a future for you because you’re certain the universe did not anticipate you ending up like this.
No one is expecting me.
He understands what that’s like. It’s the reason why he’s here, because for once in what feels like forever, he finally has someone he’d like to see after a mission.
“You could find someone out there.”
“What if I leave here, and no one wants me?” The words come out a bit wobbly, and you look at him with glossy eyes and wet lashes.
You’re even prettier than he remembers.
He swallows hard, trying to find the right words to say.
(Soap claims he has a bad habit of saying the most awful things at the worst time possible.)
“That won’t happen.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Because after meeting you for the first time, he — the man with no regard to his own personal well-being and the utmost self-control — finds himself longing to be in your presence. He had to see you again; can’t you already see how you’re taking root inside his very being?
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Will you come back then?” When you look at him like that, all wide-eyed with your pretty lips forming a subtle pout, he thinks he might do something stupid, like—
“Whenever you want me to.”
—make a promise he might not be able to keep.
Tumblr media
He gives you a burner phone. It’s supposedly untraceable (he doesn’t let you know about the tiny personal tracker he attaches to it; don’t worry, he’s the only one able to access your locational information), and while he doesn’t give you any explicit instructions, the only number programmed into the contacts list is his.
(That’s fine with you. It’s not as if you have anyone else to talk to.)
You know that he must be a busy person. You wonder if he’s considered a savior to many other people like you. Then innocent thoughts like that spiral into something jealous. Does he normally visit the people he saves? Are there other girls who have been gifted a phone like this?
He doesn’t message you, and you’re too scared of bothering him to reach out.
Every night since he sent you this phone, you’ve laid in bed, thumbs hovering over the keypad, debating what to say if you ever get the courage to text him. Every night, you never hit send on a single draft, and you fall into an uneasy slumber usually after your tenth attempt at a text message.
Sleeping is the worst.
Your nightmares can’t reach you when you’re in the safety of the waking world, but the moment your eyes are closed, it’s like every dark memory you’ve suppressed comes out of the shadows and begins its long-awaited torment.
The feeling of the cuffs on your ankles digging into your flesh feels too raw and real to be a mere memory. The men walking by your cell, sometimes staring at you uncomfortably long, taunting you and calling you cruel names. They’re always so explicit about what they have planned for you, but your seller will never give you up. Not until he finds someone willing to pay the high price he has hanging over your head.
You’re an untouched, undamaged good is what he reminds you. You’ll make him so much money.
But then you feel the cold, clammy grip of his on your arm and his breath on your neck, and you scream and scream and scream.
There must be cameras in the room you’re in because after the first week of nightmares, the kind workers here stop rushing to your room. If you don’t quiet in a few minutes, a male nurse will come in with a syringe and a pitying look before injecting a sedative into your veins. Artificial sleep is the only uninterrupted rest you get these days.
You wake up with your throat raw from your yells, and your skin sweaty. It takes several minutes for your heartbeat to go back to its regular pace, yet the images of your most recent nightmare are still flashing in your mind. You grab the cell phone you keep tucked under your pillow. It must be because of your panicked state of mind, but you find yourself clicking his contact.
The dial tone grounds you into reality, but before you can truly come to your senses and hang up, he answers the call.
“Hello?” Hearing his voice calms you down even more so despite the slight crackle that comes with hearing him through the speakers of the phone.
“Ghost?” You’re whispering, even though you’re certain that the walls are thick enough for you to speak normally without bothering anyone. Besides, anyone with ears probably already suffered through your fit.
“[Name].”
You don’t remember telling him your name, but it makes sense for him to know it. After all, he’s the one who visited you several days ago.
The thought that he would have to make an effort to seek you out and learn more about you is far more comforting than you think it should be.
“S-sorry for bothering you. It’s probably late—”
“Are you alright?”
“Am I… Alright?”
“Yes.” After contemplating a bit, he adds, “And don’t try to lie to me, either.”
“Are you busy?”
He’s in a safe house ten minutes away from the facility; say the word, and he can get there in three.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t answer mine.”
“No, I’m not busy. Now your turn: how are you feeling?”
“Scared.” It’s easier to admit things when you’re unable to see him. Staring at him makes you nervous because you think he’ll be able to read everything on your own face. Vulnerability is never easy.
“Did you have a nightmare?” Maybe it’s the exhaustion messing with your mind, but you think his voice might have just softened, just the slightest.
“Yeah.”
He’s silent, but you think you hear some slight movement on his end.
“Ghost?”
“Yes?”
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m going to visit you. Do you not want me to?”
You’re scared to answer, too frightened that your tired state will cause you to let the raw truth slip out.
You think you’re always going to want him.
Tumblr media
He can only visit you when he’s in between missions.
(Unfortunately for you, breaks for him are a rarity.)
He comes back to you, sometimes a little bruised, sometimes a bit more broken than when he had left, but he always keeps his promise.
Whenever you want him to be with you, he’s there.
The nightmares gradually get better with time, but you always sleep the best when he’s with you. At first, he would just sit in a corner of your room, almost impossible to view unless you focus hard on him (if you didn’t know he was there, you probably never would have noticed him at all). He eventually began to sit closer to you, somewhere near the edge of your bed. On the rougher nights, you would find yourself reaching out for his hand.
When his presence alone can’t keep the nightmares at bay, and you wake up from another bad dream, he doesn’t force you to tell him what you see. Instead, he talks. Despite his rough voice, the sound of him telling you about the mundane aspects of his day is the most comforting thing in the world. It’s like your own personal lullaby.
He tells you about his life before this. You tell him about yours, too. His gloved hand brushes against your cheek as he tucks back a strand of your hair. You lay your own hand atop his, feeling the warmth of him even through the thick leather. You tell him about your nightmares, all the darker details that make you loathe your very being. He tells you his name.
You whisper it back to him.
Simon. Simon Riley.
You say it several times, sometimes slowly. Testing out how the syllables rest on the tip of your tongue.
He likes his name best when you’re the one saying it.
The facility starts to fill up with other saved victims from missions more recent than yours. You’re free to stay here as long as you like, but one day, Simon presses a key into the palm of your hands. You don’t need him to say anything; the imploring look in his eyes, your favorite feature in the whole world, ask the question for him.
Now the two of you share a bed. His toothbrush stands right next to yours, and the former empty residence that Simon used to spend his off-time avoiding is a home. He cares about what will happen to him because every time he leaves for a mission, you send him off with a soft see you soon!.
He knows that keeping his heart cold would ensure that he would go to great lengths to see to the success of his missions, but running towards death is such a silly thing. Why would he be okay with chasing after that when he knows he can return to his safehouse hidden in the woods and find you in the kitchen humming? If anything, he completes his missions even faster now. You told him that you’ll be expecting to see him soon, and he’s not one to disappoint you.
Simon Riley knows he’s got it bad. He can’t sleep well unless his sheets smell like you. He asks if he can bathe you just to run soap over the smooth skin of your body because he’s entirely obsessed with you, every scar and beauty mark. He knows it’s dangerous, but he keeps a Polaroid of you tucked safely away in one of his inner pockets in his uniform.
One morning, nearly a year since he rescued you, you tell him you love him.
He lets you take his mask off.
You’re smiling at him, eyes shining as you take in every minute detail. You can’t believe this is a face he would want to hide from the world. Selfishly, you’re a bit pleased with knowing you’re one of the few to see him like this, completely bare. To make the moment even better, he says it back.
He loves you.
“I know.” You tell him; it’s obvious. His mask is resting in your hands, after all.
Tumblr media
Simon rushes home after every mission to see you, his first love, his only love. He loves coming back to you when you’re barefoot in the kitchen or washing your face in the bathroom, but he loves it the most when you guide him to your shared bedroom, the prolonged distance between the two of you making your longing for him all the more intense.
He loves you all the time, especially when you’re lying beneath him completely bare, with your hands (so much smaller compared to his own) eagerly touching every inch of him you can reach. He just got back; his uniform is partially off, all the weapons left hanging by the doorstep. He’s got nothing but the protective armor and the thick fabric on him, and with the way your body is practically calling for him, he doesn’t think you’ll give him enough time to strip himself of his clothes.
“Simon — missed you so much,” is what you whine out. He knows. You don’t have to whimper it out to him because your actions (and body’s reactions) leave nothing to assumption. You’re struggling to lift yourself up to pepper kisses all over his unmasked face, dainty hands tugging at his sleeves. Your cheeks are flushed, and you attempt to rut against him, trying to get some type of friction to satiate yourself.
You’re already so wet for him that he can feel it through his uniform.
“I know, baby. I’ve got you.” That’s your Simon. Always reassuring, always there when you need him. And right now, you need him so desperately that you’re soaking the bedsheets beneath you.
True to his word, you feel a gloved hand teasing your slick folds, smearing your arousal everywhere.
“Fuck.” He breathes out, admiring your glistening folds for just a second with a sort of sick fascination. He can spend hours with his head in between your thighs and your hands clutching at his hair. He won’t be leaving you so soon, though. He’ll have all the time he wants to bring you to the height of pleasure with just his tongue; tonight, he wants to give you exactly what you need.
The feeling of two of his thick fingers working in and out of your tiny hole has you moaning and writhing beneath him. You’re always beautiful in his eyes, but there’s something about you with wild hair and eyes shut from pleasure that makes you practically irresistible to him.
Everything about Simon is larger than life, and the feeling of being so small in comparison to his hulking figure should be frightening. But when he’s above you, his large fingers toying with your pussy in the way he knows you just love, you feel protected. Like he’s your shield from the harsh world outside. Inside your shared bedroom, only you two exist.
Your back arches, forcing his fingers to reach even deeper. The texture of his gloves only adds to your pleasure and in an attempt to prepare you for his cock, Simon adds another finger to stretch out your tight cunt.
“C’mon, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” His words come out through gritted teeth, as if it’s taking everything in him not to replace his fingers for his cock. His tolerance is hanging on by a mere thread, but he refuses to fuck you properly ‘til he’s certain you’re ready to take him. Only when your cum is coating the leather of his gloves will he know.
You nod, occasionally jerking your hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing after your high. You’re beginning to feel hotter, your pussy becoming even wetter, and neither of you can make out the words you’re mewling out. Perhaps your whines are pleas for more, maybe even mercy.
You can’t last any longer, and as his fingers curl against your sensitive walls, you find yourself nearly screaming his name as you gush around his fingers. He grins at the result of his hard work, withdrawing his fingers just to hold them up to you. His gloved hand glistens in the moonlight, and you can only watch as he raises his fingers to his mouth before sucking your essence off of them, effectively cleaning it up.
He never breaks eye contact with you once.
“Should I try it straight from the source?” His grin is teasing, the gleam in his eyes nothing short of wicked.
You weakly shake your head, already too fucked out to properly respond.
“No? I’ve been starving for your taste all those weeks I was gone, love. You don’t want to be a sweet girl and let me have my fill?” You know he’s just teasing you, but you still find yourself upset at the prospect of displeasing him.
“Not yet.” You pout, spreading your legs for him. “I wanna feel your cock.”
His grin only grows wider.
“Looks like my perfect girl’s been starving too, huh?” He leans down to give you a kiss, and you can taste a hint of your arousal lingering on his tongue. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll give you everything you want and more.”
Everything about Simon is larger than life.
The first time he ever fucked you, you had cried from the stretch of his massive girth invading your previously untouched cunt. The sensation of being filled to the brim was a foreign one, but a feeling you’re certain only he could provide. No matter how many times he’s had you, it always feels like it’s your first time taking him.
He’s whispering words of reassurance as he guides himself into your leaking entrance. Despite him working you to your peak, three fingers doesn’t begin to compare to his dick, and you find yourself whimpering over his words of praise.
“You’re doing so well for me, love. Such a good girl, my good girl.” He kisses your forehead, forcing every inch of himself inside until the tip of his cock is kissing your cervix. The pleasure of being so full outweighs the pain of the stretch your cunt has to make to accommodate his sheer size.
You stare down at where the two of you are connected, taking a sharp breath as the unmistakable bulge in your belly serves as undeniable evidence of just how deep Simon is capable of reaching. It’s always a wonder on how your tiny pussy is always able to take him, and Simon merely chuckles as he notices where you’re staring.
Using the same hand he used to coax your first orgasm with, he gently guides your hand to rest on top of the bulge. He’s smiling as he tells you, “Keep your eyes right there, darling. I want you to watch me as I fuck you.”
His thrusts are always powerful, a true sign of his strength. You’re not even sure where all his stamina comes from because no matter how exhausting his missions may appear to be, he always finds the energy to fuck you well throughout the night.
Your body’s natural instinct is to tighten around him, and the pressure has him growling as he works harder to piston his cock in and out of you. The lewd squelching noises, the smacking of skin against skin — everything is just so downright pornographic.
Your free hand finds purchase on his clothed back, nails digging through the fabric as he continues to work to bring the two of you to an explosive finish.
“Fuck, I missed you so much, darling.” He hisses, relishing in the tightness of your cunt and how your body takes him so well every time. “I don’t ever want to leave you alone again.”
You whine out for him, needing him closer even though he’s already as close as he can get. With his unyielding, powerful thrusts and your heightened sensitivity, neither of you is going to last much longer. He looks down to admire the imprint of his cock in your belly. He loves you and finds every little thing about your body perfect, but he can imagine your belly expanding to make room for his child and your tits swelling with milk. Fuck.
“Want to put a baby in you, love. Will you let me? You’ll never be alone again, not when we make the perfect lil’ family.” He grunts, and you nod, overjoyed at the idea of him wanting something so intimate. A family. Your family. He’ll give you a baby.
“Yes!” You scream out, feeling the coil in your stomach about to snap, every thrust bringing you closer and closer to breaking. “Wanna have your baby, wanna be with you forever.” The words come out sounding like sobs as you feel the tension inside of you snap.
“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Going to fill this cunt with my cum, darling.” His thrusts are becoming more erratic as he gets closer to losing control. Both of his hands grip your hips, his hold on you tight as he releases into you with a deep grunt. His cum is thick and warm, filling you up so much to the point where it’s already leaking out despite him staying inside of you all in an attempt to make sure it takes.
Breathless, wild-eyed, red cheeks — the both of you are an absolute mess.
You take a shaky hand to run through his hair that’s damp with sweat, and he leans into your gentle touch. You stare at him with a reverence he feels he doesn’t deserve.
“My hero.”
12K notes · View notes
sunnebeam · 8 months
Text
"i was hoping i wouldn't have to resort to this."
Tumblr media
A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.
warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi unintentionally scares people
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: go on tell me d-day!yoongi isn't tatsu I DARE YOU 😤 btw u don't need to watch the way of the househusband before reading this, but i swear u won't regret it if u do lol it's so funny (and it gives great visuals for this fic!). anyways, enjoy!! i'd love to hear ur thoughts so drop by my askbox and let's chat :)
Tumblr media
Water drips down his neck as he washes his face. Droplets fall down his tattooed back, tracing the meticulous lines and bold colors that contrast his pale skin.
After rinsing and drying off, he dons on his outfit for the day – a fitted, white, short-sleeved shirt that shows off the intricate tattoos on both his arms and some black sweatpants – and puts on his signature apron – a beige, cotton apron with a drawing of his brown poodle on the front. Said poodle is staring at him from the bathroom door as he takes one last look at the mirror.
An old, bumpy scar runs down his right eye.
"Perfect," he says to himself before heading to the kitchen with his dog following right behind.
Min Yoongi never used to wake up this early. But these days, he wakes up bright and early at six o'clock because he has an important assignment.
"What do you think, Holly? Too big?"
The poodle barks in response, and taking its opinion into consideration, Yoongi adjusts his gimbap slices accordingly, making them a tad bit smaller and just the perfect size for your lunchbox.
"Shit!"
The door to your shared bedroom opens and you run out, already dressed in your corporate attire. You run to the kitchen where your husband is and get a huge glass of water.
"I'm late!" you screech, all while gulping down the whole glass.
"But you still have a few hours," he points out in confusion.
"I forgot I have an early meeting!" you explain in a hurry, putting on your heels before giving your husband a big smooch on the lips and blowing Holly a kiss. "Sorry, Yoonie! I'll see you later!"
And you're out the door.
Yoongi blinks for a few moments before shaking his head. He's chuckling in amusement at your mishap, but if any outsider hears his laughter, it just sounds a bit manic.
"Well, looks like it's just you and me, Holly."
Holly barks.
"Huh? What was that?"
Holly barks.
Yoongi stares at the poodle, then at your Hello Kitty lunchbox he meticulously prepared, then back at the poodle.
"She forgot her lunchbox?"
Holly barks.
"Fuck."
Yoongi snaps into action, securing the lunchbox and putting it inside a Hello Kitty cloth bag before running out the door with his cute apron still on. He mounts his bicycle and speeds towards your office – which, if he was driving a car, would have broken numerous traffic regulations but luckily he isn't a stranger to breaking a law or two.
He's almost to your office. He's halfway there.
But unfortunately, there's a bit of a situation.
"What's your occupation, sir?"
The two police officers stare at him hesitantly after flagging him down for pedalling too fast with his bicycle. They're debating on giving him a ticket but then Yoongi answers.
"Househusband."
They stare at him.
"What?"
Yoongi sighs. At this rate, he won't be able to catch you before you clock in.
"Wait a second," one of the officers says, eyeing the tattoos peeking out from Yoongi's shirt and the big scar on his eye. "Are you..."
They stare at the name on the ticket. Min Yoongi.
"...Agust D?"
No way, the other officer thinks. There's a rumor about an infamous gangster called Agust D who used to slaughter his enemies with his own two hands. This guy can't be him. Right? Right?!
They hold a breath when Yoongi reaches into his pocket.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," he murmurs.
"Wait, sir. There's no need for violence—"
"Here," Yoongi shuts them up by thrusting one of his most precious possessions.
A gift card for discounts at the local grocery store.
The police officers stare at the gift card, bewildered.
"As much as it pains me to let go of this," Yoongi continues, "take it. Now, I have to go."
And he pedals away, leaving behind one gift card and two very confused cops.
Tumblr media
COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
2K notes · View notes
mellowsaturns · 1 year
Text
for you, anything
Tumblr media
JOEL MILLER X READER
summary: joel do what he does best, smuggling and taking care of you
warnings: fluff, soft!joel, domesticity, established relationship, reader caught a cold, sick fic
wc: 900
After spending years and years fighting to survive a cordyceps apocalypse and tolerating a totalitarian government regime, you were no stranger to hardship. But it seemed like one thing has finally gotten to you, something that had you weak and bedridden for days now, something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it happened—you had managed to catch a common cold.
Okay, maybe you were being a little dramatic, but the combination of a sore throat, the inability to breathe, the stuffy nose and constant chills was making you feel awful.
The door opens and on a normal day, you would’ve been alert and ready for any potential intruders but you had no energy left and besides, you knew who it was just by the creaks of the floorboard.
You peek out from the corner of your eyes and Joel was leaning against the wall at the end of your bed, looking at you in pity.
“Shut up,” you groaned, pulling the thin blanket over your head.
That garnered a small chuckle from him. “Didn’t even say anything,” he said.
“You didn’t need to,” you murmured.
Feeling the bed dip with his pressure, he pulled the cover away. “How are you feeling today?”
“Like shit,” you replied as he brought his hand up to feel your forehead. “I can feel a major headache forming,” you added with a pout.
“Poor baby,” he cooed.
You gave him a weak punch in the arm. “You dick, if you’re here to make fun of me just leave.”
He snickered for a bit, clearly enjoying this before mellowing. “Here,” he said, handing you a paper bag you didn’t even know he was holding.
Raising an eyebrow in suspicion you took a peek inside. “Joel,” you gasped, “How did you manage to get these?”
Because inside the bag were different envelopes of white pills and packets of powdered electrolytes, everything you needed to help you get through a cold—probably way past its expiration date, but still, these were highly prized. You would have had to work months just to get enough rations for these items. And Joel just handed you these…
“Are you seriously questioning my skills?”
You scoffed. “No. But you really didn’t have to get all these for me. I would have gotten better with time.” And you know that he knows it too, but he still got these things for you because he knew it would help alleviate the pain even if it was for a little bit. And no matter how much he downplays it, you know how hard it must’ve been for him to get these items. You know because you’re in this business with him.
You couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at your lips. “But… Thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me.” For always taking care of me.
He hummed and looked away, embarrassed at the gratitude you were giving him. Getting up, he headed to the living room and grabbed you a bottle of water.
“Let me,” he offered, before placing the bottle on your bedside and helping you sit straight. He popped the medicine onto your palm and you swallowed them down. And maybe it was the placebo effect but you were feeling better already—or maybe it was just the fact that Joel was here.
Sometimes, he really was the best medicine.
Suddenly, he pulled out something from his pocket. “Here.”
You frowned in confusion before a surprised expression spread all over. “Joel…” you whispered.
Turning the package in your hand, you examined its content and the slight wrinkles of the plastic. He had managed to find you a bag of those hard fruity candies that you once loved when the world wasn’t in ruins—something you had forgotten until now. Something meaningless you told him all those years ago when you first got to know each other and reminisced about the good old days.
You wanted to cry. He went through all this effort just to make your life a little easier and joyful when you know it made his life a little harder.
When you looked up at him, he gave you a shy smile. “Thought it might make you happy.”
You were beaming. And if you weren’t sick, you’d kiss him.
He started taking off his shoes when you stopped him. “Joel, I’m sick.”
He scoffed, as if you said something absurd. “Move over,” he grunted, hogging the spot next to you and getting underneath the covers.
He crossed his arms and closed his eyes.
“I kinda miss this you know,” you whispered. Because even though you were wrapped in his jacket he gave you a few days ago, in which he insisted you wear because your blanket was too thin, it just wasn’t the same.
He made a noise in agreement and minutes later, he was snoring.
It’s been three days since you caught a cold, hence, three days since you’ve been fully in his presence. It only occurred to you now that he didn’t stay away because he was scared of catching it, but that he spent all that time working and doing what he does best. All because of you—all for you.
All you could do was admire him as moonlight gently graced the features of his face.
When you got better, you’d give him that kiss he deserved.
6K notes · View notes
snapnov4 · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
i was made for lovin' you, baby!
Tumblr media
synopsis: jjk men falling in love with you
wc: 1.7k
a/n: vela returns from a victorious (not intended) year long hiatus and very solemnly offers you the headcanons she's been desperately cooking up for way too long, enjoy <3 don't forget to reblog!
Tumblr media
✰ kento doesn't even realize he's in love with you until he's making the two of you dinner. you're sprawled out on his couch, talking about your recent mission. the two of you aren't even dating. you just end up together at the end of every day. it all feels so intimate. as he listens to you talk, he notices he’s picking out the parts you don't like, setting them to the side. he remembers when he was a kid, and his mother told him food was a labor of love. he recalls that bakery he used to frequent when he was still working a regular job, how the smell of the bread and sweets was comforting, and how the girl who worked at the counter always had a fresh loaf for him. as he's sitting across from you at his dinner table that’s only big enough for two, he feels like his world is shifting on his axis a bit.
kento’s always enjoyed listening to you talk; much to gojo’s dismay, you're the only person nanami could listen to for hours. you're talking so vibrantly, moving your hands to illustrate actions, and he feels terrible about the fact that he can't hear anything you're saying. instead, he's thinking of the lunches you bring for him, the way your pinky touches his ever so slightly, like some silly school kids. he thinks of how you rest your head on his shoulder when you're stuck on a long commute from a mission; he thinks of your shoes by his at the door, a spare coat on his rack, an extra cursed tool in his closet. he thinks of your easy smiles and lively laughs. he thinks of how you easily fall against him no matter how you feel, whether it be a fit of uncontrollable laughter or a collapse after a long day. you're not dating; no one even thinks you're dating, but nanami’s heart practically swells when you seek him out through the day, placing a hand over his paperwork and telling him to take a break. he thinks of how you always kiss him on the cheek when you leave and always remember to text him that you've gotten home safely. if you're not so tired that you're sprawled on his couch with a blanket he's saved for you. he thinks about how, if he stayed working that awful job, he'd never have this, never have you, in your own unique way. he wasn't sure why he kept being a sorcerer; he just presumed that he’d work until he died. however, sitting across from you, talking animatedly about some shenanigan yuuji has wrapped you into, he feels content. it's almost like this could mean something; maybe his life is truly just a cycle, all leading to an uneventful death, but with you by his side, he thinks, it feels worth it.
✰ toji is not in love with you, or at least that's what he says. however, he realizes he may be that fond of you on a quiet evening. toji never expected to find himself so soft and domestic. he'd liked you because of your take-no-shit attitude; when he met you in some dark bar some months ago, watching you turn down every suitor who came your way, he accepted the challenge. he'd find you at least once a week, always in the same spot, and he's the only guy you let buy you drinks, the only one allowed to sling an arm around your shoulders. you made him wait for it. but now, months later, you let him wrap his arms around you without a word, and you're so quiet and calm, completely and utterly relaxed, and it's so good. toji’s hands are far from clean, he's far from the kind of upstanding guy he thinks you truly deserve, but you lay in his arms so easily, as if you couldn't care less what he's done. you drag your finger across his scars. you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth without recoiling at the feeling of scar tissue. you're almost too good to be true. he thinks of all the times you've patched him up, brows knitted in careful concentration, telling him, “this might sting,” even though he'd walked in practically unaffected by the injury in the first place. the way you forced him to tell you what he did for a living, and even though he didn't spare the gritty details, you still seemed not to care, as long as he was coming back safe. he's come to expect you to be standing at the door, sitting at the table, or lying on the couch when he gets home. right now, you're lying in his arms, completely unaware of just how much he loves you and loves this. your hand is in his, silently twiddling with his fingers as your eyes focus on whatever movie or tv show you've taken an interest in now. he decides he’ll leave it all behind for you. all of it. when he finishes this next job, he’ll buy a ring. then he’ll get a regular job, and finally, he’ll be happy.
✰ satoru realizes he's in love with you on a seemingly ordinary day. he's finished work for the day, or rather, for the last two days. he hasn't slept in three, and his head is starting to kill him, even with his reversed cursed technique. right now, he only wants to get home, eat something sweet, and collapse in bed. when he walks into his usually quiet and organized apartment, he realizes quite a few things. there's a bag of that mochi from that place in sendai that he loves, and a note beside it reads, “the kids and i picked these up for you!” he recognizes your handwriting, messily scrawled as if you were in a hurry. next, he notices that every blanket (except for his, he silently hopes) is spread across the floor in the living room, nestled in what seems like the coziest pile ever is you and the kids. megumi is on your left, and tsumiki is on your right. the three of you are sleeping so soundly that he almost wants to kill every higher-up for pulling him away from you, from this, from his family. as he looks at you nestled between megumi and tsumiki, he realizes that's exactly where he wants you to be.
the three of you have been knocked out for a while; your limbs tangled and blankets moved. after showering quickly, he finds out that his blanket was not exempt from the fort, but he doesn't even mind as he makes his way back to the living room, scooting in next to a sleeping megumi, and he watches for a bit. studies the way your chest rises and falls, the way you so easily let the kids relax against you, the way your mouth hangs open so hilariously that he wishes he'd snapped a photo while he was still up. he feels his heart swell immensely when he finally does lay down, and megumi nestles his face into his shoulder, and you feeling the sudden movement, throw your arm across him. satoru never thought he could feel this soft. the privilege of meaning something to you, to these kids, is better than any sorcerer grade, any title, anything. when he settles down, his arm so long he can reach all the way over the three of you. he recognizes the sock you're wearing. it's black and probably way too expensive; if he squints a bit, he can almost see the custom embroidered “GS” on every piece of clothing he owns (clan habits die hard). he can't stop the soft smile that spreads across his face. of course, you love him; you're wearing one of his socks.
✰ suguru isn't the kind of guy to be surprised by his own feelings. at least before you, he wasn't. however, he finds you surprise him every day; every little habit of yours implants itself in his brain. he could spend hours just watching you do the most mundane tasks, but when he truly realizes he's in love with you, it’s early one morning. he's sitting on his bed, watching you get ready at the vanity he bought just for you, half of it your makeup and the other half various products he puts in his hair. he feels infatuated with you. your entire routine is done with so much care and attention that he can't help it. he's been watching you get ready every morning for the better part of two months. but what really gets him is the way you've changed your routine to involve him. a small kiss to his lips every morning, setting your alarm earlier so you really can stay in bed for “five more minutes,” drinking your coffee at home because he makes it the best. always asking him, which shirt looks better? what color should I wear? rattling off all your daily tasks, turning to see suguru holding your keys, or your wallet, or your umbrella right as you begin to ask where it is. and most recently, indulging him by picking a vanity, after you complained about being tired of doing your makeup standing up in his bathroom and how the drawer you've been keeping your products in was starting to overflow. geto’s obsessed with watching you do your makeup, sitting behind you on the bed, quietly admiring the way your hand moves in practiced steady strokes. he loves the way you silently curse if you mess up your wing, he loves the way you still suck your cheeks in to do your blush, he loves the way you sit in front of the mirror silently debating on wearing your hair up or down or maybe a mix of both. he loves how you apply lip gloss, the last step of your routine. always the last step, because the goodbye kiss at the front door leaves more of it on him than on you. he watches with a soft smile and sticky lips as you reapply your gloss in the mirror in the entryway, smiling when you catch his eye in the mirror. laughs at the way you roll your eyes but don't stop him from pulling you back in the doorway, kissing you again because he “already misses you,” so finally, you add reapplying your lip gloss in the car to your morning routine, while suguru adds loving you to his, but that was already there, wasn't it?
2K notes · View notes