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#The Couch Did Nothing Wrong
nanomooselet · 13 days
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The Couch Did Nothing Wrong
There's something everyone tends to misunderstand, about martyrdom.
You don't become a martyr against your will. It has to be a conscious choice between renouncing your faith and keeping your life, or remaining faithful and being put to death. It's not just dying, even if it’s in service of faith. It has to be a decision.
It has to be a willing sacrifice. You have to, consciously, purposefully, choose surrendering your life over renouncing your faith.
I do not think people are realising just how profound Wolfwood's devotion to Vash had become. How truly he believed in Vash. How deeply they loved and were devoted to each other.
Because Wolfwood truly did not want to die. And yet he chose to in Vash's name.
Wolfwood loved Vash and his ideals so much that they became his reason to live, and then he accepted death to uphold them. Vash would never have asked that of him. Vash apologised for judging Wolfwood for killing when his willingness to do so saved innocent lives, told Wolfwood his ideals were a burden Wolfwood wasn't required to bear.
Instead, his death was something Wolfwood had to request.
Do you accept this offering?
And Vash had to give him permission.
I do.
His proposal accepted, Wolfwood took up everything he had left, his body and spirit, the life he could have had, the welcome home he always yearned for - and he purposefully set them aside in the name of Vash's ideals. He was obedient unto death.
It's so painful. Vash is devastated, openly howling and weeping in anguish. But he had to let it to happen because it was Wolfwood's choice. That's why when he prays it's not answered. And it's why Wolfwood tells him, with his final words, to smile - because he has no regrets. He chose this. He chose Vash. Don't blame yourself, tongari. You look better when you smile.
It is absolutely a wedding. There's literally no other way for the whole series of events to be properly understood otherwise. The passion and devotion of Wolfwood's sacrifice leaves me standing back in genuine awe.
Because to live outside of Christ is to die, and to die in Christ is to live.
Wolfwood entered the story as a dead man, and then realised he wanted to live. Vash wanted to share all his tomorrows with Wolfwood - and he will. Because martyrdom?
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Can be how you become a saint.
And this is why Vash burned through his power to protect Wolfwood's body. Because Knives may consume everything else in his madness and fear and vengeance, but he doesn't get to even come close to touching this. This is sacred. This is a holy relic. This is something that belongs only to Vash.
A sinner like Knives is unworthy.
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stizzysupremacy · 4 months
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“It’s a romcom!”
their breakup has a body count, which is neither especially romantic nor particularly funny 🤷‍♀️
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devilishdelights · 2 years
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bitchy lucifer and soft lucifer are always fighting to be the favorite in my head
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sttoru · 5 months
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your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff / angst / hurt + comfort. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s). nicknames used; ‘(little) baby’. he’s honestly just the perfect combination of gentle and teasing. subtle mentions of size difference.
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satoru shifts on the couch whilst letting out an inaudible yawn. he was tired after an entire day at work and finally had the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.
though, he couldn’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he was in fact home, but it didn’t feel like it. not when you were missing.
you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight — just a little squabble between lovers. satoru didn’t rush after you when you had decided to walk away midst argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.
he figured that you just needed some time alone and thus decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.
satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.
it was dead silent in the apartment that was usually filled with your lively chatter. the sorcerer wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep. but, you needed space and he wasn’t going to disturb you.
he drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths were steady and his thoughts were surprisingly calm. satoru almost drifts off to sleep, however his body lightly jolts awake once he hears the creaking of a door.
careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.
satoru moves his arm to the side so his vision wouldn’t be obstructed. his eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe — one he could recognise instantly.
it was you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you didn’t take another step forwards and just lingered in your spot for a few seconds without saying anything.
“hey, baby.” satoru breaks the silence. his voice was as soft as it could be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration in it. even if he had all the reason to be upset according to you.
you remember just how childish you acted earlier; you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand. the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.
in contrast to your immature behaviour, satoru had stayed calm and collected throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you even once nor did he blame you for anything. you felt bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.
you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you were about to do.
you knew you had to apologise for your behaviour, but what you needed first was his validation. you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket satoru was using.
your arms wrap around his torso and you hug him tightly to your body, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.
satoru’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden show of affection, though he wasn’t complaining. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.
“my little baby.” he chuckles, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything was and will be fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me — thank you.”
again. that tender tone satoru uses only with you and for you. the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop the process.
“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body was enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace. satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depended on it.
no words were exchanged between you two for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out and so you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes were watery and a bit red.
the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you were so adorable and precious to him. even when you looked like a mess — a pretty mess.
“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanted to apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i apologise for that as well.”
your lover nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”
you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that was all the reassurance you had needed to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still felt bad and the guilt of your immature actions seemed to linger in the back of your mind.
you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat — hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lays on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.
“i’m sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be troubling to deal with.” you whisper as you enjoy the feeling of being back in satoru’s arms.
he grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours — even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.
the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “heh, i’d be lying if i said that you trying to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”
satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that little finger of yours in front of his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating were quite endearing.
it’s not like he was invalidating your feelings with that comment — he was genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it wasn’t like it didn’t work.
“whatever.” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response. you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.
you aren’t the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.
no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.
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pasukiyo · 6 months
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BEAUTIFUL THING
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mike schmidt x f!reader word count; 2,573 warnings; smut, no plot, just porn :D summary; there was nothing in the world she wanted more than mike schmidt. but what were the chances he'd ever make a move on her?
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 She wanted Mike Schmidt.
 Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely adored Abby, she was sweet, funny, and overall not a hard kid to take care of. But she knew all too well what her intentions were when she agreed to take up the babysitting job— how could she say no when he looked at her like that with those big, deep brown eyes?
 It was another late night spent at the Schmidt house— Mike had just gotten himself a new job with unholy hours, some late night security gig he had no choice but to take. Her mouth opened in a yawn and through her bleary vision, she blinked down to the watch on her wrist. 
 4:30 AM. Mike wouldn’t be back for another hour and a half or so. 
 She sighed and threw her head back against the cushions, staring absentmindedly at the television as some old cartoon played, audio soft and muffled. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered trying to stay up for Mike— she’d been babysitting for him for months, (without pay, might she add) and still, neither he nor she had made any moves. She wasn’t even sure if he ever even intended to make a move on her. 
 But she was just so certain that he felt at least some sort of attraction towards her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, how his eyes would absentmindedly trail down her body against his better judgment, how he’d pull the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth while he did. She could see it in the way his body would react when she came too close, like when she gave him a handshake or playfully shoved his shoulder.
 It was the same way she reacted when he was close. 
 Surely it couldn’t all be for nothing?
 Her eyelids were falling heavy against her eyes and she slowly slumped further into the cushions of the couch, hands tightening around the blanket around her body. Sleep was so close that she could reach out and feel it, and she would’ve slipped into the arms of slumber if it hadn’t been for the opening and closing of the front door. 
 She grumbled and furrowed her brows down at her watch. 
 4:35 AM. Mike wasn’t supposed to be home yet. 
 At the notion, she jolted and snapped her head towards the entrance, her heart thrumming against her chest as she prepared herself for the sight of a total stranger, ready to make a run straight for Abby’s room. She blinked and narrowed her eyes at the dark silhouette of the figure as it hung its coat on the rack bolted on the wall. 
 “Sorry. S’ just me.”
 She knew that voice. It was a voice she always dreamed about, a voice belonging to someone she’d seen practically everyday.
 “Mike?” Her voice came out rough, having not spoken for hours, not since Abby had gone to bed. “What are you doing home so early?” She asked as she pushed herself further up the sofa while Mike made his way towards the recliner, wiping a hand down his face before plopping down into the seat. She could only make out his face through the light from the television but even then, she could sense something was off. 
 Mike tapped his fingers against the armrest of the recliner, “I… I just… needed to leave… I guess,” he replied and she frowned, scooting to the far side of the couch closest to him. “Is… is everything alright?” She questioned, unsure whether or not he needed consoling. Mike leaned further back into his seat and let his eyelids flutter closed, inhaling deep through his nostrils. 
 “Just… is Abby asleep?” He finally asked after a moment and she nodded, humming. “She went down earlier than usual. Actually managed to get her to eat something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile but quickly faltering again when she realized Mike wasn’t going to reciprocate. He looked almost… distraught. 
 Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she pondered her options. She’d known Mike for some time but even then, she still knew little to nothing about him. He slept a lot, that was for sure. And he loved his little sister and was trying so hard to be exactly the type of person she needed. But she knew nothing about him, Mike Schmidt himself. She didn’t know what he did in his free time, what he liked to eat, if he had hobbies, nothing. 
 Hell, she’d spent so much time fantasizing about him and filling in all the holes herself, she hardly even acknowledged that he could be somebody entirely else. She didn’t know the first thing about him.
 But she could learn to try. 
 She leaned forward, a steady hand warily finding his on the armrest of the recliner and she flinched when Mike snapped his eyelids open, looking between her and their touching hands. Their gazes surged into one another and she made no moves, as if seeking any sign that she should stop.
 Mike’s heart thrummed so hard inside his chest, it was a miracle that she couldn’t hear it. She looked at him as if she were asking permission— permission to what, he hadn’t even the slightest clue. But in spite of the voices inside of his head telling him he shouldn’t, that he shouldn’t let her, that he was wrong for her, he did. How could he say no when she looked at him like that, as if he were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes upon?
 His silence gave her the confidence to let her fingers creep further down to the back of his hand, flipping it around until they rested against the heel of his palm. Slowly, she soothed the tips of her fingers up his palm until they fell between the cracks of his, letting her digits curl around his knuckles. Mike shuddered at the touch and let his own fingers press down against hers and he watched as she raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, their gazes molded together as she pressed her lips against his skin. His lips trembled as they fell open and he narrowed his eyes, clinging onto the last bit of restraint he had left. 
 “You can relax with me, Mike,” she whispered against his skin, pressing another soft kiss to the knuckle of his ring finger. “You don’t have to worry while I’m around.”
 Mike pressed his lips back together and fought back the urge to groan at her words, his eyes wandering from their hands, down her arm, to her chest where it pressed against the edge of the sofa. His breath shuddered when he exhaled and the rubber band stretched inside of him finally released and with it, the last of his restraint. 
 Fuck it, he thought. It’s been long enough.
 Mike tugged her closer by the hand and her lids widened, a squeal slipping from her lips, in which he was swift to eat right up, pressing his mouth against hers. With his hand not intertwined with hers, he gripped her hip, working his way up to her waist to squeeze. The sound she made was muffled inside their admittedly messy kiss and he pulled her even closer, her knees having nowhere to go but on the outside of his thighs. 
 Mike groaned and pulled away to catch his breath as her hips ground down against his, already feeling frustrated with the growing erection in his jeans. He blinked up at the woman on top of him, her arms thrown over his shoulders, her chest heaving as she chased air back into her lungs. She stared down at him with hazy irises, still bleary from lack of sleep. 
 “Sorry,” Mike finally managed to breathe out, his palms resting on either of her thighs. “Probably a little much, wasn’t it?”
 He watched as the corners of her lips curved into a grin and she chuckled breathlessly, shaking her head. “Not enough,” she tittered as she surged her lips back into his, one of her hands on his shoulders slithering their way into his mess of dark tendrils, fingers curling and tugging at his roots. He hissed inside her mouth and dug his fingernails into her skin, a whimper falling from her lips, allowing him to take control of the situation. 
 He pressed himself forward and reached for the end of her t-shirt and she briefly broke away to allow the fabric up and over her head, her own fingers already working at the buckle of his belt. Mike leaned forward to pepper kisses all across the tops of her breasts and she threw her head back as he took over in undoing his belt, ripping it from his loops and throwing open the button and zipper of his jeans. 
 She clambered off of him as he raised his hips to tug his pants and boxers down just enough to allow his erection to spring free of its restraints, feeling her stomach do a somersault at the sight as she stripped herself of her own shorts and panties. Mike fought the urge to wrap his hands around his cock as she reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra and time seemed to slow as the straps fell from her shoulders, the lave toppling to the floor altogether. 
 He swore he could feel his mouth water and never before this moment had he wanted something, or someone, more. He blinked up at her, following her gaze down to his lap and at his erection that stood tall, waiting for her, dripping with pre-cum. 
 Mike cocked an eyebrow, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna take it?” He asked, voice low and husky and fuck, she thought she’d drop dead right then and there. Still, this was a dangerous game they were playing. “What about Abby?” She whispered, glancing towards the hallway where Abby’s room was. “What if she wakes up?”
 Mike pressed his lips together and bucked his hips, raising a leg to softly give her calf a kick. “You can be quiet, right?” He murmured in question and she felt herself clench from his voice alone. Here Mike Schmidt was, cock out and erect, all because of her. This was something she had only dreamed of— never did she think that this would become reality. 
 Mike cocked his eyebrow again and she shook herself from her thoughts, taking his hand as he guided her back onto his lap. Her body shuddered and her bones rattled as she began to sink herself down, jolting when the tip brushed against her cunt, teeth sinking down into the plush of her bottom lip to contain her sounds. 
 “It’s okay,” Mike whispered. “I got you.”
 Her eyes about rolled in the back of her head at that as his hands kneaded at the flesh of either of her hips, guiding her further down his length, making sure to go agonizingly slow to ensure she felt every single fucking inch of cock inside of her. Tears brimmed the outskirts of her eyelids as she finally sat still on his lap, filled to the brim with cock. Mike let her head fall down against the curve of his shoulder, burying her nose into the crook of his neck as she allowed time to adjust to his size, simultaneously trying to keep her sounds to a minimum. 
 “You’re so tight,” Mike’s breath shuddered in her ear and his voice made goosebumps litter her skin, his fingertips like the icy breath of a ghost against her back. “You think you can handle moving now?” He asked in a whisper against the shell of her ear and she nodded, letting him grab her thighs and push her further up his cock until just the head remained. She cried against his neck when he sank her all the way back down his length, the lewd noise of their wet skin slapping together making her clench around him. “Fff… uuck,” he dragged his curse out as he snapped his hips up against her.
 “Shit!” She gasped as he thrusted again and again and again. And she let him. She let him use her in whatever way he pleased. 
 “Gonna be good for me?” He muttered next to her ear. “Gonna let me take care of you, hm?” She nodded, bobbing her head up and down against his shoulder as he snapped his hips up to hers again and again, daring the coil inside her belly to snap. “Think you can handle it?” He asked again and she nodded once more, crying and biting down on his collar. “Yes!” She cried, fortunately muffled against his skin. 
 So Mike thrusted again, harder and harder, chasing that high, that release he so desperately needed. He could tell she was close— it’d probably been so long since she’d been stuffed by cock like this. She’d probably been waiting for this moment just as long as he has. 
 With the pad of his thumb, he pressed down against her aching bud and Mike could feel a fresh new set of tears soak his skin as she cried, bucking her hips into his touch. His thrusts were as sloppy as they were powerful and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. 
 “Mmm… Mike… I’m… I’m gonna…” she hardly managed to stutter out, slowly feeling the coil inside her stomach as it began to unravel. 
 “Yeah?” Mike said, his other hand wrapped around her neck and pushing her forehead down against his, gazing up at her closed eyelids. He rolled his head against hers, “look at me,” he breathed out and watched as she slowly fluttered her lids back open, just as more fat tears beaded down her cheeks. The sight was enough to get him to teeter on the edge himself. 
 “Gonna come?” He asked and she nodded, sweat-slicked forehead lolling against his. He nodded too, already feeling her release around him as she spawned around his cock, relying solely on him and his body to keep herself up. She buried her face in the crook of his neck again as she whined and cried, Mike’s thrusts speeding up as he gave himself that final push he needed to send himself reeling, spiraling and shaking with the force of his release. 
 “Fuck,” he growled into the skin just below her ear, squeezing his eyelids shut tighter as he willed himself to keep his sounds on the low, for the sake of his little sister sleeping just in the other room. 
 Silence fell over Mike and the babysitter for a good, long moment as they both recovered from their highs, chasing air back into their lungs as the realization of what they had just done began to sink in. Mike should be mortified— she was his sister’s babysitter, he doesn’t have time for this, she doesn’t deserve him, he shouldn't have done this. 
 But the woman in his lap settled herself closer into him, nuzzling her nose against the crook of his neck, her lips like a crescent moon against his skin as she placed a soft kiss to his flesh there. 
 “I hope you’re okay, Mike,” she whispered and he threw his head back, an arm thrown around her body as he stared up at the ceiling. How could he push her away now?
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a/n; so yeah!!! i watched fnaf on friday and it kinda sorta just brought back my whole josh hutcherson phase so enjoy!! this was just a quick little something i wrote up and there's like no plot at all and not proofread LMAO
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milo-is-rambling · 9 months
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I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this
#why did I have to enjoy last august so much#last year at this time I had a group of at least ten close online friends I talked to constantly I was getting attention online from#strangers I was just getting my shit together I went to the lake every day I was reading again I was finding new music that I completely#fell in love with and I was so happy#and then it all crumbled cause it always fucking does and my dad died and now it’s august again and nothing feels real and next month it’ll#be a year and everything’s changed and nothings changed and I hate it all so much#it’s literally like every time I get back on my feet and I mean really like every time I finally stop holding my breath and say okay this#time maybe everything actually will be okay some big horrible shitty thing has to happen to set me back again and I’m so tired of it I feel#like I haven’t changed in a year it’s like I could walk out of my room and see my dad on the couch still like nothings changed and#everything’s changed cause I finally had good things happening and then I got fired cause I don’t have my shit together and like ughhhhhhhh#I’m just so tired of it all it’s all bullshit I hate grief I hate growing up I hate it all I hate how happy I am everyday still even though#everything’s different I feel like I should feel worse and I already hate how I’m feeling what is wrong with me ahhhhh#crying into the bong making a Spotify playlist with just music from last summer before shit got bad and day dreaming about smoking a cig
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satoruxx · 1 month
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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?
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toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.
normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.
but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.
toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.
his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.
toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”
“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.
“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.
“it’s not my fault!”
“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”
you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”
“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”
“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.
“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”
another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?” he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”
he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.
“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.
“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.
“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”
“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.
“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”
you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”
his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”
he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.
“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”
you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.
“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.
“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.
“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.
you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”
“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.
“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”
toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”
“yeah but—”
“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”
his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.
“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”
you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.
“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.
“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.
“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.
“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.
but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.
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emmyrosee · 2 months
Text
Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.
There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.
You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.
He’s losing it.
Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.
“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”
“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”
“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”
“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”
As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.
“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”
“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”
The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.
“You look… good.”
Nothing.
“I’ve missed you.”
Nada.
“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”
You scowl at him.
“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”
No dice.
“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.
Okay. That didn’t help his situation.
“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.
“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.
You blink unamused.
Oh.
You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.
“Speak.”
You merely look him up and down and turn your head.
“Talk! Now!”
You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.
“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”
That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”
You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.
He shrugs, “you asked for it.”
And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”
You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.
No dice.
With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”
You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”
He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.
“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.
He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”
“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”
“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”
“HOURS?!” You howl.
He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”
“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”
“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.
You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”
“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“
“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”
This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.
He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”
“….”
“What?”
“That’s it?”
He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”
“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”
This, has you softening.
He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”
You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”
He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”
“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.
The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.
But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.
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yuujispinkhair · 11 days
Note
Sukuna’s the type of baby daddy that even if you break you never really broke up 😭 and if you got pregnant again there no chance in hell it could be anyone else’s kid besides his
The love you and Sukuna have is world-changing. Even after you break up, you are both still stuck on the other and unable to move on.
Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Hurt + comfort, fluff, mentions of smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, mentions of smut but nothing explicit. Reader and Sukuna break up, but they get back together at the end of the story. There is a happy end. They already have a daughter together, and another pregnancy is mentioned at the end. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear
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It's not that you aren't trying to get over Sukuna. You really do. After a week of crying your eyes out, you decide to go out. It's not even that hard to get chatted up by some guy at a bar. But when his hand lands on your knee, you practically bolt. It feels so wrong, so dirty somehow. As if your body is still Sukuna's territory and no one else is worthy of touching you.
You try again a week later and the week after, too. But none of the men you meet spark your interest. Maybe this shouldn't come as a surprise. After all, only a few weeks ago, you had Sukuna. You had the best. There simply is no one who can compare to him. No one will ever make you feel the way Sukuna did.
You regret the breakup. It was stupid. Just small things that accumulated over several weeks, combined with a bad day at work and Sukuna being grumpy when you got home. You could have handled it differently.
But now, your bed always feels cold, and your heart doesn't seem to be in your chest anymore. Instead, there is a stone in your chest, heavy and painful, while your heart is in another part of this city, in the hands of the man who will always be the one for you, even if you will never get back together with him again.
+++
Sukuna asks to see his child, but you feel unable to face him, so you cowardly text him back, telling him to just pick your daughter up from kindergarten and spend the afternoon with her. When Sukuna brings her home in the evening, you are relieved that he seems to have gotten the hint. He doesn't come inside but waits at the front door as your daughter runs up the stairs to your apartment.
But you aren't strong enough not to hurry to the large window that faces the street, gazing outside to see Sukuna's familiar tall, broad figure slowly stroll down the street toward his car. His pink hair looks just like the cherry blossoms that fall down onto the road like pretty, pink snowflakes.
You know you will never be able to look at cherry trees again without feeling sadness wash over you.
Maybe you will try going on another date with some new guy, but deep down, you know that it will be in vain. It will always feel wrong. It will always feel like something is missing. Because none of those men are Sukuna. No one can be like him. There is only one Sukuna. Everyone else will always just be second best.
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Sukuna isn't even trying to get over you. Not anymore.
On the first night after your breakup, he was a mess and stormed off to some bar, desperate for a distraction. Anything that would keep him from getting overwhelmed by his feelings.
He had some drinks and flirted with a random girl. Even took her home, thinking that sex would help him feel better. But the moment she tried to unbutton his shirt, Sukuna grabbed her wrists and stopped her.
It felt wrong. He felt wrong. As if he was cheating on you. He told the girl to leave and watched with his arms crossed as she angrily slammed his door shut before Sukuna sank down on his couch and buried his face in his hands.
He knew right then and there that it was no use to go out and try to have hookups. It wouldn't work, and it sure as hell would only make him feel worse.
In the following weeks, Sukuna worked longer and spent more time at the gym, always trying to stay busy because as soon as he got home to his deadly silent apartment, he was drowning in thoughts about you. Drowning in all those happy memories the two of you had made over the years.
You were Sukuna's love, his heart, his everything. He hadn't known or understood love until he met you. So how is he supposed to ever get over you and move on? It's impossible. You are still his everything, and you will always be.
And so it's clear as day to Sukuna that he won't even try to move on. He knows he will always be yours, whether you are together or not. He was only able to give his heart away once. And even if you don't want it anymore, it still belongs to you.
+++
Sukuna spends two days every week with his daughter, happy to see his little girl but sad because he misses the time when all three of you did things together. And when she looks at him with your eyes and asks him, "Daddy, why don't you just come home again?" Sukuna feels his heart shatter into a million pieces.
Sukuna doesn't know what to tell her. He, too, can't understand why the two of you decided to break up. It was stupid. Nothing big caused it. Just small things that added up, and looking back they seem insignificant.
"I don't know, princess. Maybe Daddy should really go home and talk to Mommy."
He decides at that moment that he will get roses and come up to your door this evening.
+++
Sukuna's chest feels painfully tight when you open the door, and he sees your face again after all those weeks, hitting him with just how much he missed you.
He hands you the roses, a beautiful huge bouquet that cost a little fortune, his eyes gazing deeply into yours,
"Please take those flowers. They come without any obligation to take me back or even talk to me. But I want to give them to you because you are still the mother of my child. And... and you will always be my woman, just like I will always be your man, even if we aren't together."
He fears he sounds like a creep, that he overstepped a boundary, and that he made you uncomfortable. But he has had lots of time to think during the last few weeks, and he promised himself that he would be more open about his feelings if he ever gets a chance to talk to you again.
You stare at Sukuna for a moment that feels like hours to him. But then he sees the tears gathering in your eyes and sees the way your hand that's holding the flowers is trembling. You breathe a soft "Kuna..." and Sukuna knows. He knows that you are still his, just like he is still yours.
He pulls you into his arms a split second later, crushing the beautiful roses between your bodies as he hugs you tightly. And you melt so perfectly against him as if you are made for him. Your face is pressed against his broad chest, and you snuggle against him, every centimeter of you touching him. You cling to him so tightly that it's almost painful, but it's the first time since your breakup that Sukuna feels like he can breathe again.
"I am sorry. I am so sorry for everything."
You both speak the words at the same time, eyes locked, small relieved smiles playing around your mouths.
You tell Sukuna to stay for dinner, and he agrees. He takes over the kitchen again, his kitchen, and prepares a dinner that he knows his two girls always loved. He sits at your table again, jokes around with his little daughter, and basks in the way you look at him with your eyes full of happiness.
Sukuna doesn't just stay for dinner but stays the whole night.
He kisses you after the two of you bring your daughter to bed. Pushes you gently against the wall and claims your lips again, though deep down, he knows that those lips always belonged to him, even when you were apart.
He grins when you laugh when he picks you up and carries you princess-style to the bedroom. Your lips are on his again, kissing him as if you can't get enough of him, making it hard to walk, but Sukuna would find his way to your bedroom even blind.
He locks the door behind you, turning around only to find your hands on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt while your lips find his again in another passionate but tender kiss that makes Sukuna moan softly into your mouth.
He makes slow love to you in the bed you bought together all those years ago, showing you what it feels like to be loved and desired and cherished endlessly. And you wrap your arms and legs around him and meet each of his slow thrusts while you moan his name softly, and tears run down your cheeks, showing Sukuna the same love he is showing you.
Sukuna doesn't leave again after that night.
The two of you talk things out, and only a week later, Sukuna finally puts a ring on your finger and tells your little daughter that she needs to pick a pretty dress because she will be a flower girl at the wedding.
And only a month later, you place a positive pregnancy test on Sukuna's pillow, making both of you burst out laughing when you realize that you and Sukuna must have made another baby that first night when he came back and brought you the roses.
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Thank you so much for the ask! It made me feel so many things, so I had to get these feelings out and write this little story 😭 I hope you enjoyed it and that it made you emotional, too. How could there ever be anyone else after Sukuna? It's really not possible 😭
Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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chososlilprincess · 5 months
Text
pt. 2 of Virgin Choso!! if you havent read the first part read it here and part 3
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Virgin Choso who looks at your abandoned bag in the corner of his small living room. Standing in the little apartment he moved into recently, chewing on his lip anxiously. Should he text you? you’d realize it was gone eventually, and when you give him a call to tell him, he could pretend he hadn’t seen it. It’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to you, the opposite really, but hes scared. He’d probably be weird and act awkward if you two were ever alone, if you came to retrieve your bag from his home.
You and Yuji had been at his apartment earlier that day to help him move his furniture around. He’d heard the doorbell ring and when you had finally ascended to the top floor were he resided, Yuji had given him a brotherly hug, patting his back. And you,
You.
it’s the second time he sees you after he realised what he felt for you, and it’s getting increasingly hard to be around you. Especially when you keep putting on those adorable little outfits. He can’t focus, he can hardly breathe. Yuji, that idiot, knows that fact better than even Choso himself, seeing right through his brother. Which is why the boy had invited you today to help him. To torture Choso, to make him crack.
But Choso wasn’t weak. He could hold his composure. Even when Yuji walks past him and whispers, trying to hold his laugh, “maybe cut back on the staring a little today, she might actually notice this time,”
And now he’s here, all his furniture in the right places, but your bag in the wrong. You’d went to the gym he remembers, which is why you had it with you.
When his phone rings a minute later, his heart starts beating faster, already? he calms down a little when he sees it’s Yuji who’s calling, but his ease is cut short when he answers.
“hello?”
“hi Choso, it’s me,” its you. He can hear people talking and laughing in the background, probably you and Yuji’s new friends from your Jujutsu College. “my phone went out so i borrowed Yuji’s to call you,” you say sweetly, and before you can continue, a voice way louder than yours comes through the line, “she forgot her bag on purpose!!” Yuji shouts from next to you, before someone in the group can shut him up,
“not true…” you say awkwardly and laugh “but uh, is it okay if i come and get it tomorrow after my shift? it’s gonna be a little late though, sorry for the trouble,” he can feel that tugging in his heart, he’s excited to see you again, even if it’s only because of your forgetfulness. “it uh…it is no trouble,” he says quickly,
“thank you Choso…ill see you tomorrow,” and with that you hang up, and Choso is left with the silence of his apartment and the bustle outside of tokyo city.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
He’s sitting on the couch with your bag propped up next to him, did you really leave your bag here on purpose? why would you have done that? did you want to see him too? he sighs, wishful thinking.
He stands up from the couch and the movement makes your unzipped bag fall to the floor with a thud.
He looks to the floor, bends down to put the bag back when-
oh. fuck.
Laying on the ground is your used gym clothes, a big hoodie, some shorts, a top and also…
a pair of your used panties.
he freezes, his dick jumping at the sight alone. Theyre baby blue, with a little white bow on the waistband. fuck. no. don’t.
he picks them up.
He’s only just learned about sex, about relationships and about…pleasuring himself. And he’s already a massive pervert.
what would you think of him if you knew? if you could see him right now? desperately jerking himself off on the couch, whines and groans spilling from his lips, drool sliding down his mouth. your perfect little panties wrapped around his hard cock.
He watches as his pre cum makes a mess in them. he wants to make a mess with you. He wants to see you wearing nothing else than those same panties around him,
he takes them away from his dick and brings them to his nose. And when he breathes in the scent of your pussy, He cums so hard his mind turns blank.
And it hits him when he comes down, that hes disgusting. And your panties are ruined.
how can you make him feel like this. Without any cursed energy. without beating him into the ground. youre just existing, And that fact alone makes him feel so…weak? why does he feel weak?
He decides then that he needs to tell you, Its been building up in his chest for months. He needs to tell you that hes in love with you and that he would do anything for you.
he needs to tell you he wants to bury his face in your little cunt.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
thx to everyone whos been leaving notes<33 part 3 coming!!
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Text
.⋆。What I Cannot Give You。⋆.
Steve Rogers x plus size reader
After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her
Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort
WC: 2.3k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.
You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.
“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.” 
You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head. 
Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.
“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.
“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness. 
“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.
“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.
“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.
Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.
Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.
“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”
You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.
“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.
But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.
“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.
“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.
“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.
“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.
“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.
“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.
You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.
“Then what is?” She implored.
“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.
“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface. 
“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.
Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring. 
“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping. 
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.
“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.
“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.
Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.
——————
Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.
Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.
Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.
Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.
You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward. 
And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve’s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.
“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.” 
“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside. 
In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.
“Steve-“ 
“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.
He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.
“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.
“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.
You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.
“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.
His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.
His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.
“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”
“But Sharon-“
“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”
Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.” 
“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.
“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.
“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.
“That’s my good girl.” 
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psychedelic-ink · 7 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort
word count: 4.9k
summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.
warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)
a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it
a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕
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Joel was never that into gambling. 
Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 
He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 
Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 
However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 
One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 
Liam folds. 
A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 
“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 
Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 
“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 
Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 
“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 
Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 
“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 
“Fuck you, Miller.” 
“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 
Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 
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“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 
“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 
You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 
That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?
“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 
“You should’ve thought of that before.” 
“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 
“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 
“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 
“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 
You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.
“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 
“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 
The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 
And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 
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You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 
Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 
Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 
The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 
You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 
You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 
And it seemed like you were no exception. 
Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 
You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 
“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 
Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 
And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 
It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 
And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 
The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 
You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 
There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 
“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 
After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 
“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 
He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 
“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 
Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 
“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 
Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 
He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 
“God, yes.” 
You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 
Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.
He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 
Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 
“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 
Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 
Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 
“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 
It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 
“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 
The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 
“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 
Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 
After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 
“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 
He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 
“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 
You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”
Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 
You sink to your knees immediately after that. 
He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 
You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 
“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 
You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 
“Get on with it then.” 
Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 
“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 
“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”
Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  
“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 
As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 
“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 
His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 
“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 
Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 
“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 
“Is this pussy mine?” 
“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 
Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 
He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 
“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 
Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 
You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 
“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 
“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 
“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 
His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 
“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 
“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 
His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 
Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 
With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 
“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 
Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 
You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 
“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 
“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 
“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 
You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 
You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 
“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 
Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 
If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 
“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 
“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 
“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 
Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 
“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 
“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 
Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 
Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 
Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 
“I think he left, sweetheart.” 
“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 
Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 
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selfishdoll · 7 months
Text
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NOW PLAYING…. TOUCH
Just back into it, and let it touch
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JJK MEN & THEIR REACTIONS TO YOU USING THEIR CROTCH TO SHOW OFF YOUR NAILS
ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, & takuma ino.
cw: modern au (?), suggestive content (ofc) ooc characters(?), reader being a little shit, etc.
i’ve always found this tiktok trend adorable, and thought it would be nice to write hcs on with them. these are unedited so excuse typos and other mistakes. i might do more later.
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KASHIMO HAJIME.
the nail designs you chose were cute, but a little cheesy. a simple cyan base with purple lighting bolts on each ring finger.
you came back from the shop to spot kashimo resting on your couch, clearly tired from either fighting a curse or general working out. you tapped him, showcasing your nails the moment you got his attention. hajime would only give you a small smirk, leaning his head back again to rest.
the idea would then pop into your head, softly declaring you needed to take a picture to show your friend. he didn’t care enough to respond.
but, that quickly changed when you sat beside him, resting your hand right on his crotch.
what are you doing?
you shushed him a bit, declaring his white pants were a perfect background. a plausible excuse, one that he believed less and less when he realized you were massaging him through his pants.
he allowed it to go on for a moment before he snatched your wrist, pulling you closer to him.
don’t start something you can’t finish, [y/n].
and well, you spent the rest of that evening facing the consequences of your actions. you never did send that picture.
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GOJO SATORU.
probably asked you to get his tip color. you refused, much to his dismay.
you settled on a pretty blue and white design, curtesy of his eyes and hair. you sent a picture of it to him while in the shop; your lover hearting the image instantly.
on the way home, you were scrolling through your tiktok feed and came across the trend. a cheshire like grin covered your features soon after.
making it home, gojo wasn’t busy with anything, simply sitting on the couch and watching some random show. he greeted you and attempted to get touchy, only for you to declare you had to take a picture of your nails first.
just use the one you sent me?
no, baby, i wanna use a different one.
although confused, the man shrugged a bit, focus turning back to the tv. you sat on the couch beside him, humming as your phone hovered above your hand that rested on your thigh. taking a quick glance to assure he wasn’t looking, you reached over, placing your hand right on his crotch.
gojo noticed you instantly, eyes falling from the tv screen and over to your hand, eyebrows pinched close. he said nothing however, simply watching you closely. the moment you began to rub him, however, he was adjusting his hips eyes lifting to yours, adoring an are you serious? expression.
what’s wrong? you tried to play dumb, all while your hand still moved, not so secretly anymore. gojo would only grin at you, pretty dimples exposed, turning back to the tv.
nothing.
in that moment his hand reached over to your bare thigh, gently tapping it; fingers stroking the inside of them.
this had now became a game of who would crack first.
and much to your dismay, you always did.
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GETO SUGURU.
your choice of design was a black base with his initials on each ring finger. when sending a picture to the man he complimented them, and was clearly happy his name was on your fingers.
you had been planning to do the trend on him the moment you saw it, booking an appointment the next day. you just wanted to see his reaction, to see if your normally calm and collected boyfriend would react differently.
you were basically rushing into the house the moment you locked your car, entering to spot him on the couch reading a book. you two greeted each other with a soft kiss the moment you walked over.
you really like my nails, suguru?
mhm.
lemme show gojo. you hummed, pulling your phone from your pocket. you bit the inside of your cheek, reaching over and planting your hand right on his crotch. you felt his eyes on you for a moment before they drifted back to his book. which, frustrated you.
and so, you adjusted your hand, a false mumble of needing a better angle exiting you. except the adjusting didn’t stop, seeing as you began to gradually rub your palm up and down his crotch.
you jumped a bit as he shut his book closed, grabbing your wrist and pushing it against his hardening length even more.
now, you deal with it? understand?
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NANAMI KENTO.
much to nanami’s embarrassment, you used his tip color. he tried to talk you out of it, but it happened. how they color matched it was above him. and why you did such a thing was above him as well. but, he did have to admit the nails were still pretty.
when you got home the man was busy with some paperwork at his desk, grumbling to himself every once in a while. you walked over with a gentle smile, watching his tense shoulders fall the moment you made your presence known.
you then showed off your nails, nanami simply shaking his head with a smile.
you got a bit needy the moment his eyes turned back to his desk however, biting the inside of your cheek before a brilliant idea popped into your mind. you find a chair beside his desk, scooting a bit close to his own. which wasn’t suspicious, you did that often.
what was suspicious was you reaching over, placing your hand onto his crotch.
[y/n]…
just trynna get a good picture. your pants are the perfect color. the excuse left you quickly, hearing the man sigh softly to himself but allowing your hand to remain there.
that was until, you began to carefully slide your hand up and down his crotch— back and forth. nanami didn’t left it go on for long before he was grabbing you by the forearm, pulling you up from your chair and over to his lap.
oh, ken, your paperwork..
that can wait. can’t ignore you when you’re being so damn needy..
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TAKUMA INO.
to ino’s surprise, you somehow got your nail lady to carefully draw his masked face on your ring finger. the moment you sent the picture he was amazed and very happy. something you found adorable.
so of course you decided to toy with him.
coming home you spotted the man not really doing anything, simply resting on the couch. he smiled up at you, eyes following you as you walked over to sit beside him. his arm came to wrap around you, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment; simply watching tv.
until you swore softly, pulling your phone from your pocket. gotta take a picture for a friend.. you would mumble, something ino barely acknowledged.
the moment your hand was on his crotch, however, his eyes fell from the tv quickly, staring down at your hand.
uh, y/n…
sorry baby, just gotta use your pants. you claimed, the man muttering nervous ok, going completely still— clearly not wanting to mess up your photo. you smiled at this, nearly feeling bad for what you were about to do to him.
slowly you carried your palm up and down his crotch, feeling the hand on your hip twitch. continuing the facade, you tilted your phone every so often, attempting to find the correct position; all while poor ino attempted to calm his rising hard on. he tried so hard too.
just as you felt his hard length through his sweats, you snapped a photo, rising from the couch— placing a chaste kiss to his cheek on the way.
thanks baby, imma take a quick shower.
needless to say, ino was a bit confused and disappointed, only able to give you a small nod— watching you walk away. ignorant to the fact you were holding in your laughter.
4K notes · View notes
sttoru · 2 months
Text
·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. staying at your boyfriend’s house for the first time is nerve wracking. though luckily satoru understands your situation all too well.
wc. around 870
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive implications. reader is implied to be a virgin + has no experience dating. satoru being a gentleman hehe. nicknames used ‘sugar, sweetheart’. not beta read.
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“are you sure?” you ask your lover who’s making himself comfortable on the couch. satoru sits down and gives you a reassuring smile. he adjusts the blue blanket he’s covering himself with before responding.
“mhm. a hundred percent,” he nods and reaches for your hand. his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing manner. his blue eyes glow with the purest form of love—pure unadulterated love for you.
it’s your first time staying over at your boyfriend’s. it’s nerve wracking for some reason. maybe because you have all kinds of ideas running through your head about how your night could possibly go.
the thought about possible intimacy is scary, because you’re not sure if you’re actually prepared. you had set your mind to it on your way to his house; you will be ready if satoru asks to take things further. for his sake. .
but, when the time had come, nothing happened. you expected at least something to happen. he’s kissed you as per usual, however more than that has not occurred. perhaps it’s your own fault for trying to predict what will happen.
though how can you not? you assumed that if a boyfriend and girlfriend spend the night together, they’ll surely do something more. at least you think that’s what happens most of the time. with other couples that is.
you should’ve known by now that satoru doesn’t compare to other men. especially not to the college boys your age—who only want to hit and move on. satoru is serious about your relationship. committed.
“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sugar?” satoru’s smooth voice interrupts your thoughts. you clear your throat and shake your head, dismissing your own tendencies to overthink every little thing.
his big hands cover both of yours completely. they’re warm. nice to hold. the older man lifts your hands up to his lips and kisses your palms. you sigh and finally relax after what feels like hours, “nothing, ‘toru.”
nothing, you say. little did you know that satoru has long noticed what’s wrong. you’re easy to read—your body language reveals every little thing you’re feeling.
you subconsciously had your fists clenched at your sides the second you stepped into his apartment. you’ve been avoiding eye contact more than usual and you keep nibbling on your bottom lip. those were all the signs he needed.
satoru knows you well enough to realise that you’re overly nervous. he understands why. it’s your first time staying overnight at a man’s house—your boyfriend’s house.
satoru’s sure you’re thinking that he’ll ask you to sleep with him. it’s obvious. each time he kisses you, you tense up. you normally get flustered, though today you’re more than just nervous.
he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable. he doesn’t want you to think that he’ll do anything you’re not ready for. the last thing satoru would do is take advantage of this precious moment. of his precious girl.
it’s also why he suggested to sleep on the couch. he figured that you’ll be less nervous if you have the bed to yourself. all he wants is for you to relax around him.
“may i?” satoru whispers. his warm breath caresses your hands and you instantly give your consent to whatever he wishes to do. the older man thanks you quietly before putting his forehead against yours.
you look into each other’s eyes and you’re once again stunned by the beauty of his blue orbs. satoru brushes his knuckles over your cheek, adoring just how adorable you look from up close, “it’s okay, yeah? i won’t ask you to do anything. i promise.”
you blink. it’s only then that the realisation dawns upon you. no wonder satoru has immediately noticed your nervous demeanour. he’s always so perceptive of how you feel. it’s quite heartwarming.
those comforting words are all you need. you smile brightly and hug satoru out of reflex. you hear a giggle escape his lips before he returns the gesture. his strong arms wrap around your form and he squeezes you to his chest.
“aww, there’s my baby,” satoru coos. he’s happy that he’s finally succeeded at calming you down. he’s also happy that he got your usual self back. he tenderly kisses the top of your head.
you lift your head up to get some air. satoru’s tight embrace and familiar scent nearly suffocated you—not that you would mind going out like that. you kiss his cheek, “thank you for being so. . err, patient and understanding.”
your boyfriend shakes his head with a soft smile playing across his lips. satoru leaves a trail of ticklish pecks down your face until he reaches your lips. after waiting for your usual sign - a faint nod - he captures them in a gentle kiss.
he pulls away after a few seconds, though stays close to your face. you’re filled with an incredible feeling of warmth because of satoru’s obvious adoration for you. pure content.
he lets out a breathy laugh at your cute, flustered expression. he pulls you in for a hug again and presses your head against his chest, “heh, no, i should thank you for trusting me. i love you s’much.”
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3K notes · View notes
bro-atz · 19 days
Text
sweetheart
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in which: you're the atz frat's newest sweetheart, but first, you gotta go through with the initiation.
pair: frat bros!ateez/afab!reader
word count: 4.2k
content: smut, gang bang, nicknames (they call you sweetheart), (some) drinking, mouth to mouth (you'll understand when you read it), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL), oral, anal, double/triple penetration, creampies, slight breeding kink, filthy, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: written for the @cultofdionysusnet permevent and for the @atzhouse frat event <3 it seriously was a happy coincidence how this one fic lined up for both events i kid you not
networks: @/atzhouse @cromernet @/cultofdionysusnet @san-network @wonderlandnet
frat bros!ateez: part one | part two
taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @alexwritesfics @dinossaurz @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @minkilicious @isiloiale @ywtfvs @nvdhrzn @sanhwajjong @hyunukitty @startlinglyoongi @bsehindu @woomyteez @sanglix @khjoongie98 my tags have been acting kind of weird lately, so if you didn't get the notif, lmk! apply for the permanent taglist here!
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Here’s the thing: you were pretty much already labeled as the ATZ frat sweetheart— and, yes, frat sweethearts are still a thing, and you know that for a fact because you definitely were theirs— since you were the sole being keeping the frat from falling apart. Granted, Hongjoong and Seonghwa put in the work when they had to, but they were so close to the brink of collapse since someone (Wooyoung) submitted the wrong receipts and nearly got the frat shut down by the university due to lack of proper funding use… It was a whole thing.
After you stepped in, though, the frat flourished, and the boys owed you a debt of gratitude, and the wanted to show that gratitude by officially swearing you in as their sweetheart.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Mingi greeted you with his low, rumbling voice as he sat down next to you on the couch. “How are you?”
“Could be better,” you replied with a small smile. “Seonghwa missed my double stuffed Oreos request on the grocery list again.”
“Oh, I did the groceries this week,” Mingi said with a tinge of guilt. “I had no idea you wrote that.”
“That’s okay, Gi! I’ll just rewrite it on the list and underline the shit out of it next time.”
“Still… I feel bad…” Mingi murmured. He leaned towards you and said, “Let me make it up to you.”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
Without a response, Mingi placed his hand gently on your knee, his fingers teasing you by pushing your skirt up slightly. He brushed his nose against your ear as he tucked your hair behind your ear, a small, rough sigh leaving his lips and ticking your skin. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your lips slightly parted in anticipation, your eyes fluttering. Mingi flirted with you all the time, and you jokingly would tell him that you would give him a chance if he was being serious, and you felt nothing but serious energy from him at that moment, so yes, you would give him that chance.
“Hey!”
The sound of San’s voice snapped you and Mingi out of your trance, the two of you giving the boy all of your attention.
“Don’t you remember what Hwa said?” San said with a slight frown. “No touching the sweetheart until tonight.”
“Why? What’s tonight?”
“Your initiation, duh,” Wooyoung, who popped up behind San, said matter-of-factly.
You for sure thought Wooyoung was messing with you because you knew that the boys had scheduled a frat party that night, but when the night arrived, you realized he was dead serious. There was no party. Instead, the living room was decorated with an assortment of beers, wines, and hard liquors, and they were all brand new, which freaked you out even more because you had never seen so many unopened, high quality bottles of liquor in the frat house before.
“Joong,” you started, your tone accusatory. “Do not tell me you used frat funds for this…”
“No, sweetheart. We used our personal money for this,” Hongjoong shook his head. “Come. Have a drink.”
You eyed the boy suspiciously, but you joined him in the living room anyway. The second you sat down, he handed you a glass of your favorite red wine— you never told the boys about your favorite wine, so you wondered how on Earth they figured it out in the first place— and willed you to drink it.
The wine warmed you up instantly, and your entire tense body relaxed almost instantly at the familiarity of the hints of black cherry. You sighed softly and relaxed into the couch cushions, only for that relaxation to quickly leave when you realized the eight pairs of eyes boring into your soul.
“W-What…?”
“Choose,” Seonghwa stated softly.
“What…?”
“Choose one of us to start your initiation,” Jongho explained a little further.
“How am I supposed to choose when I don’t even fucking know what this initiation is?!”
“Alright, fine,” San pushed his way past the boys. “I’ll start it for you, then.”
Without a second to waste, San took the wine glass out of your hand and shove it into Hongjoong’s hands before forcefully grabbing your face and bringing it near his. Your entire body jolted with excitement, but in the same breath, you also wanted to slap San and tell him to knock it off, but the way he was holding you made arousal pool in your panties at an alarming rate.
“Welcome to ATZ,” he started, a smirk playing on his lips. “If you really want to be our sweetheart, you’re going to obey our every order, got it?”
You responded with a mere nod, warmth flushing through your extremities. Your body only god hotter when San reached behind him and gestured for someone to hand him a bottle of whatever liquor, and with one hand still on your face, he took a swig from the bottle before immediately connecting his lips to yours. You could taste the sharp burn of vodka hit your tongue and go down your throat, nearly choking you. Yet, the motion itself was erotic enough for you to let the burn somehow turn into pleasure, the giddy feeling inside you getting stronger.
As San’s kisses got more passionate, lingering traces of vodka mixed with your saliva and started dripping down your chins. He moved entirely so he pinned you against the couch cushions, one of his hands choking you lightly while the other grabbed your wrist. You were so sucked into San’s kisses that you didn’t realize that someone had moved to the other side of you and started pulling your skirt down.
“Just relax, sweetheart,” you heard Seonghwa purr into your ear.
Along with your skirt went your panties, leaving your bottom half stark naked. Seonghwa pulled one of your thighs one way while someone else pushed your other thigh the other way. It was when San broke your chain of kisses to start decorating your neck with dark marks did you see Mingi kneeling before you, his tongue dangerously close to your inner thigh. You let out a whimpering sigh when you felt him trail his tongue along your thigh and closer to your cunt, the sigh turning into a slight moan when Seonghwa’s fingers reached for your clit and started drawing circles around it with the pad of his finger.
“I never knew you could make a sound like that, sweetheart,” Hongjoong chuckled as he downed whatever was left of the wine in your glass.
Tilting your head towards him with the tips of his fingers, Hongjoong’s lips met yours softly, leaving you with the sweetest kiss. You cupped his face with one hand while your other reached down to Mingi’s head and grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging backwards while trying to get him to stop licking stripes up and down your pussy. San, meanwhile, lifted your shirt and bra up to reveal your breasts, his lips and Seonghwa’s lips immediately claiming one perky nipple each.
As the four of them ravished you, the other four started feasting away on the alcohol— you can’t expect to leave bottles of alcohol in front of frat bros and expect them not to drink it, now can you?— the beer bottles clattering to the ground and the shot glasses slamming onto the countertop.
All the four men were simply just caressing you, kissing you, but your brain was turning to mush at an alarming rate. You were so out of it that you didn’t even realize that they had gotten all of your clothes off you entirely, leaving all of your skin exposed and ready for the other four to start with you. Yunho had opted to kneel on the ground next to Mingi and caress your legs, his soft fingers trailing across your thigh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Yeosang stood behind the couch and collected your hair for you to hold it back, allowing him to leave kisses along your temple and trail his tongue along your ear. Wooyoung chose to forcibly get your hand out of Mingi’s hair and move it to his crotch so you could cup his slowly stiffening cock through his pants, and Jongho snuck his way onto the couch so he could grope your waist and leave bite marks along the gentle curve of your hip.
“Mingi,” Seonghwa said as he started pushing the boy’s head away from your pussy. “We need to open her up.”
Nodding, Mingi moved away from you, giving Seonghwa the opportunity to slide down and sit between your legs. The other boys started leaving your side one by one as Seonghwa cupped the underside of your thigh and pushed your legs up, your knees pressing against your breasts. Then, you felt his tongue prod into your asshole, making you nearly jump off the couch had it not been for his insane grip on your thighs and Yeosang still holding your hair back.
“H-Hwa, don’t!” you cried. “It’s dirty!”
“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you forgot what I said already,” San tsked.
"Of course I didn't, Sannie, but—"
“No buts,” Yunho, now shirtless, stood before you. “Just go with the flow, sweetheart.”
Gulping, you nodded, allowing Seonghwa to resume. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his tongue prodding once more, your cunt and ass tightening in the process.
"No, sweetheart. You need to relax," Seonghwa murmured.
But you could do anything but relax. So, Yunho decided to help you out. He directed your attention to him and kissed you sweetly, his talented lips clearing out your mind. The way his hand traced the outline of your body as it went up to rest on your neck made your body lean towards him, an erotic sigh leaving your soul as he kissed you more and more passionately with every passing second. Yunho kissing you was enough to distract and relax your body, allowing Seonghwa to open you up as he wanted. He stuck two fingers in your asshole and pulled them apart, making you whine loudly into Yunho’s mouth.
As the two worked on you, the rest of the frat took the opportunity to strip themselves down, low grunts and moans rippling through them as they started stroking themselves. Once Seonghwa deemed you stretched out enough, he got up and shed his own clothes while Yunho choked you lightly as he moved you down from the couch so that you were kneeling before the eight of them.
“Alright, sweetheart. Suck,” San ordered as he slapped his thick cock against your cheek.
You looked up at him with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, a smile playing on your lips as your hand reached for his cock. You only took the tip into your mouth, your hand rubbing the length as you moaned with his cock in your mouth. All you did was suck the tip of his cock, taking it in and out of your mouth with a little pop, making the boy groan in slight frustration. When Jongho stole your hand from San’s cock so you could start jacking him off, and when Yeosang took your other hand to do the same, San grabbed the back of your head and forced you down on his cock, making you gag loudly. He moved your head forcefully, continuing to make you gag as you sucked him off properly, the sound reverberating through the room.
“God, she sounds like such a fucking slut,” Mingi commented as he smirked at the sight of you on your knees sucking the thick boy off.
“Hey, show some respect,” Hongjoong snapped. “She’s our sweetheart.”
“Our slutty sweetheart,” Wooyoung couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as he bent down to give your ass a tight slap.
You couldn’t help but moan, your body jolting towards San when you felt Wooyoung’s hand go from slapping your ass to grabbing it and pulling upwards. San finally let you surface for air, only for Yunho to interject, his hand guiding your face to his massive cock.
“Don’t just focus on San, sweetheart. We all want to stuff our cocks in your face,” Yunho said, his soft voice very misleading considering the words that just left his mouth.
And so, all eight of the frat bros took their turns stuffing their cocks in your mouth. While you were choking on Mingi’s insane length, Hongjoong moved behind you, pushing you forward so that you were on your hands and knees. He licked his hand and ran his fingers along the folds of your sopping cunt, his fingers teasing you by slipping inside briefly.
"You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. You want us that bad, do you?"
You couldn't respond properly— you still had a mouthful of Mingi in you. Luckily, Hongjoong's didn't bother waiting for a reply from you. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds slowly before entering you at that same pace, the feeling of his cock filling you up making your entire body tingle. He watched as you curled your toes, making him chuckle slightly.
"You like my cock inside you, sweetheart? Of course you do," he sighed out. "You're so fucking tight... You feel so good, sweetheart."
He moved at a gentle pace, but each motion was enough to make you feel good already— you just needed a little boost. You brought your hand to your clit and started rubbing, only for someone to snatch your hand away.
“Nuh uh, sweetheart. That’s our job,” Wooyoung quickly denied you.
Sliding into the space underneath you, Yeosang was the next of them to press his tongue against your sore bud, the wetness from his tongue and the way he swirled it around your clit getting you to satisfaction much faster than your fingers ever could. You took Mingi out of your mouth to cry out loudly as you came, your walls fluttering around Hongjoong’s cock as your arousal dripped out of your stuffed cunt.
You clenched so hard around Hongjoong’s dick that he ended up coming without warning as well. He rammed his hips into yours and came inside, his cum heating you up as he filled you up.
“Hey, you said we wouldn’t cum inside,” Seonghwa pointed an accusatory finger at the oldest boy.
“N-No, I want you to fill me up,” you caught yourself whimpering. “I want you all to fill me with your cum.”
“Well, you heard her,” Hongjoong said slyly. “And who are we to say no to our sweetheart?”
You telling the boys that you wanted them to cum inside you excited them more than you anticipated. Within seconds, you were seated on Jongho’s lap, his girth spreading your walls so far that you thought you were going to tear while Wooyoung stood before you, his knee pressed into the couch as he rubbed you from the front with his cock.
“Woo— Hnngh! It’s n-not going to fit,” you said while moaning as Jongho thrust from underneath you.
“Oh, trust me, sweetheart. You’re going to fit us both.”
With that, Wooyoung slid his cock into you, a scream of pleasure leaving your lungs as you flung your head back and closed your eyes, just letting yourself feel both of them inside you. You thought there would hardly be any space for either of them to start moving, but Jongho proved you wrong when he held your waist tightly and started moving your body up and down while Wooyoung rolled his waist against yours. You could hear Jongho’s desperate grunts in your ear and Wooyoung’s erratic breathing against your skin as he pressed his face into the nook of your neck.
“Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” Jongho bit out. “You feel so fucking good, I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”
Responses evaded you. Instead, you turned your head to kiss Jongho, your fingers pressing into his scalp as you held the back of his head. You briefly made eye contact with him, the dark lust in his eyes sending a wave of heat through your body, the heat only increasing when he kissed you, his tongue inviting yours to dance. Your other hand went to Wooyoung’s neck, your nails digging into his skin and leaving deep crescents as you kissed Jongho passionately.
Wooyoung thrust into you in a way that made your body lean into Jongho’s firm chest further, the slightly altered angle of your body doing it for the boy underneath you. He grunted against your lips as he came, his ropes of cum shooting deep inside you. The second the other guys realized he came, they grabbed for you, pulling you off his lap. Soon, you were pinning Wooyoung to the couch, his cock still inside you.
“Hyung, come here,” Yeosang said to Seonghwa.
Getting on top of you, Yeosang slid his cock along your ass, the tip teasing your asshole every so often as Seonghwa knelt on the couch behind you.
“Forget about double stuffed, sweetheart,” Seonghwa quipped. “You’re going to get triple stuffed tonight.”
Without giving you time to ponder the implications of those words, Yeosang forced his cock into your tight asshole while Seonghwa slipped his cock into your pussy, the three of them fully inside you.
“Oh my God!” you cried as they pressed further until they were all completely inside you.
“Shit, her asshole is still really fucking tight,” Yeosang swore, the profanities leaving his mouth making your entire body thirst for him.
Your eyes watered up when Yeosang began to move, your hole tight and red as it swallowed him, the sight of which nearly drove Yeosang up the wall. He mercilessly fucked your ass, not wanting that tight feeling to leave as you squeezed his cock just right. You wanted to cry, nay, scream his name, but before long, San was standing in front of you, forcing his cock down your throat again.
“Good, sweetheart,” he praised as you gawked obnoxiously. “Very fucking good.”
Below you, Wooyoung’s pants were getting breathier, high moans and groans leaving his lungs. He bit his lower lip as he tried desperately to hold his orgasm at bay as he did not want the other guys stealing you from him just yet. But, he was finding it a little difficult to move at the pace he wanted with Seonghwa’s cock stuffed in your cunt. Thankfully, when Seonghwa pulled out, it allowed Wooyoung to ram his hips upwards, the slapping of his waist against yours overpowering your moans.
Seonghwa had decided he wanted to move to your asshole, so while you were distracted by Wooyoung’s insane hip thrusts, Seonghwa shoved his cock into your asshole, practically making you feel like Yeosang and Seonghwa were going to tear you a new one. San had to pull his cock out of your mouth before you bit down on it, making him opt to repeatedly shove his cock in your mouth over and over again instead of having you continuously suck it.
Wooyoung couldn’t hold back anymore. The erotic noises of your cunt and ass and you sucking San off did it for him. He groaned loudly and blinked stars out of his eyes as he came, filling you with your third load.
“Woo, pull out,” Seonghwa ordered. “I’m close, too.”
You were surprised to hear Seonghwa say that— he sounded way too calm and collected to be close. But, when all three boys pulled out, you turned to see that Seonghwa’s jaw was slightly dropped, and his eyes were fluttering when he re-entered your cunt. Despite three loads of cum inside you, you were still insanely tight for him, and him being in your ass just moments prior squeezing and nearly snapping his dick off was already plenty tight. Yeosang, who had resumed with your asshole, snapped you back to attention when he slapped your ass, your back arching as a result.
Seonghwa had barely entered you, and he was done. You pressed your chest against Wooyoung’s and pushed your ass upwards, and as a result, Seonghwa came hard. He grabbed your ass cheeks and let out a low, shuddering groan as he came, disappointment evident on his face— he wanted to fuck you more. What a shame. The second Seonghwa pulled out and moved away, Yeosang switched to your cunt and immediately came. He had been holding his load for quite some time, and he wanted to fill your cunt, not your ass, with his seed.
The five of them swam inside you threatening to spill out when you relaxed your pussy just enough, but you clenched and held it in. You wanted to keep them inside you for as long as humanly possible.
San determined that it was his turn after you were left panting for dear life on the couch. He nimbly picked you up and laid you so that you were bent slightly uncomfortably, your head and shoulders pressing into the ground while your ass rested against the edge of the couch. San stood over you, his thick cock twitching in anticipation as he prepared to drill into you. As he adjusted his position, Yunho and Mingi knelt by your side, their cocks slipping into your open palms, and Wooyoung bent over so that his face was above yours but upside down— he had every intention to Spiderman-kiss you.
Before you realized it, San’s cock was inside you and throbbing while staying still, a long moan leaving him. Wooyoung didn’t give you the chance to moan. He kissed you roughly, his lips tugging upwards on your lower lip. You were a little too focused on Wooyoung to the point where Yunho and Mingi had to forcefully move their own cocks in your loose grip— not that they really minded, though, because they were waiting their turn to fuck your cunt.
To say San’s cock was literally drilling into you would be an understatement. He was annihilating your pussy and back with the amount of force he was using to thrust. He had a tight grip on your waist as he rammed his waist into yours repeatedly, your entire body shifting with every rut.
“S-Sannie! I’m c-cumming!” you cried as you broke off your kisses with Wooyoung.
“Fuck, sweetheart, me— Oh, God!”
San didn’t get to finish his sentence— he just finished. He pressed a good majority of his body weight onto you as he shoved his cock so far deep inside you that it hit your cervix, making your entire body shudder as you came; and the second San pulled out, Yunho and Mingi were on you like vultures. Mingi grabbed you and hoisted you in the air quickly, your legs dangling as he kept his arms secure behind the backs of your knees.
“Oh my God, Mingi, do not fucking drop me,” you yelped as you clung to him.
“Relax, sweetheart. I have no intention of letting you go,” his deep chuckle reverberated in your ear.
Without using his hands to help him, Mingi was able to successfully sink you down on his cock, making you cry loudly as you felt his length slide inside you quickly. Before he could even start moving you, Yunho pressed his chest against your back, his own cock making its way inside your cunt as well, earning yet another cry from you.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted as the two men with the longest lengths fucked you midair, the two of them moving you so that you were bouncing on their insane cocks.
You could barely keep your head on straight with them fucking you like that, but with the addition of their low grunts and groans in your ear, you were losing your mind completely. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you leaned backwards into Yunho, your grip on Mingi loosening like your grip on reality.
“Look at you all fucked out by our cocks, sweetheart,” Yunho teased.
“You really like double stuffed that much, huh?” Mingi added to the teasing.
You wanted oh so badly to tell them to shut up, but you could only scream their names as you felt your climax rapidly approach. You brought your head back to face Mingi’s, your lips immediately searching for his as you did your best to hold off on cumming. But, when Mingi pulled you towards him to meet your desperate kisses, he rubbed against your G-spot, making you cum instantly. Your cunt clenched so tightly that both boys subsequently came, their loud groans echoing in the living room as their cum spurt deep inside you, leaving you with the cum of the eight of them threatening to spill out of you had it not been for the two massive cocks blocking its path.
Mingi let you down onto the ground, the cum flowing out of you, leaving you sitting in a pool of their cum as you fought to regain your breath and sanity. Blinking stars and tears out of your eyes, you looked up to see all eight of them hovering above you while stroking their cocks.
“So, sweetheart,” Hongjoong spoke. “Welcome to ATZ.”
You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed— was that really it?
“Do you want more, sweetheart?” Seonghwa chuckled looking at your expression.
Biting your lower lip, you looked up at him and nodded, all eight boys’ breath hitching.
“Believe me, sweetheart. We’re not done fucking you yet.”
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themotherofhorses · 4 days
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simon riley x fem!reader
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Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 
Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.
You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  
So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.
You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 
“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 
Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 
He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 
“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 
Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 
Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 
“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 
“Loved him so bloody much.” 
You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 
His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.
“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 
In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 
Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 
“It’s okay, baby.”
You kiss his temple.
“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 
He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 
But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.
"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."
For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."
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note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!
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