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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 days

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it got worse ft. choso kamo!

this is part two to my fic "just a distraction". so, i recommend that you read that first lol (but it can be read as a standalone too!)

set-up: after your plan to distract your academic rival backfired so hard, you don't have it in you to seek him out. well, is it a blessing or a curse when he decides he will seek you out instead then?

warnings: PORN WITH PLOT; nsfw thoughts includes cunnilingus, in public, dirty talking. mdni as always :)

"are you serious?" yuuta gave you a skeptical look.

"what?" you defended by hiding your face under a pillow and avoiding your friends' concerned looks.

"i'm sorry but it's the third day you're missing lecture. over a boy. who even are you?" maki continued where yuuta left off.

"she's lovesick, is what she is. or dicksic—" nobara quipped up next.

you threw the pillow at the source of her voice. then, slowly, you looked up at your three friends, who stood there as if observing an animal in the zoo. except this wasn't a zoo, it was your dorm room. and the animal under surveillance was you.

"this was all your plan!" you pointed at nobara accusingly.

"my plan was to go fuck choso's brain out so that you can get an edge over him in academics. my plan wasn't for you to develop a crush on his weird ass."

"i don't have a crush on him!" you tried to cool off your burning face by fanning it, "i just can't see him again. what am i gonna say?? hey choso remember the day i came over during break like a month ago and you went down on me? i can't fucking stop thinking about that or about you! what are your thoughts on that, choso hm?"

"well, when you phrase it so pathetically-"

yuuta cut off the green-haired athlete lest she say something downright stupid, "see, i am sure choso won't bring it up either. he hasn't made an effort to like text you or anything. it's been a whole month, i am sure he doesn't really care all that much?"

"ughh. how is that consoling to hear? that means whatever happened between us probably sucked."

"well you did suck—"

"—nobara!"

"point being." yuuta reasoned, "you need to go to class. gojo sensei is a serious drama queen. he'd probably mark your grade down because you're missing classes for seemingly no reason. and that'll affect your grades.

you groaned and yuuta continued, "just go to class. and if you see choso, avoid him. i am sure he won't come seeking you out."

"fine."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

well, this was going okay, you guess? i mean, gojo sensei did 100% make weird jokes about your absence in front of the entire class but thus far, nothing else was amiss. choso was holed up in his regular seat near the window far to your left and hadn't been looking at you from what you could notice.

fuck. truly the only one getting distracted was you.

so, halfway through the lecture (that you couldn't pay attention to anyways), you decided you would confront choso and ask him why he didn't text you back or something.

so, you waited till class was over. standing outside the gate, you waited for the raven-haired man to come out so that you could confront him. but the moment he actually started coming towards the door, your feet took you by their own accord. you ran through the hallways and into the library.

that's right, maybe you should catch up on the studying you missed? self-study truly is the best study after all? and not like choso will come hunting you down here, in the library. so, you chose to go take a seat in your usual spot, the one farthest and where nobody came to disturb you.

sighing, you took our your laptop and notebook, setting it down on the table. you took a deep breath and decided you could deal with him when you were ready-

"why did you bolt off when you saw me?" choso asked as he dragged the chair next to you and sat down. he dropped something heavy on the desk and you noticed from the corner of your eye that it was the book you had taken over to his under the pretense of studying.

"thanks for the book. i forgot i left it at yours."

liar.

you had left it at his so you could go back and get it. and the day you went back, hopefully, choso would have remembered some of the steam and gotten you into his bed again.

but you never went and he never called.

"no worries. i was surprised how you would be able to do integrals without it." he stretched his limbs, muscles shifting under the thin material of his shirt. he then propped his right elbow on the wooden table. resting his face on his palm, he looked at you, "why were you missing lectures?"

"personal issues." you replied without looking away from your laptop screen. as if typing your assignment furiously will make him disappear into thin air.

"ah, okay. i thought you got sick or something."

if you were braver, you would have said it out loud. but you were a coward, so, you mumbled, "if you were so worried, you could have texted me or something."

you obviously didn't expect for him to hear that.

"we're not friends. it would have been awkward. what would have people thought if they realized i'm texting the second best student at uni?"

you whipped your face to look at his. but all your anger melted away when you took in his features. his tired eyes, the tattoo on his nose. did he cut his hair? it was slightly shorter, you think? whatever, he was still a dick.

-and dick reminds you...

"i-" you looked at your screen again, hands stilling against the keyboard and resting on the plastic keycaps, "even if we aren't friends. why didn't you text me? was- idk. like, was our last time so bad? even if it was, it's not a gentle-manly thing to do! to ghost a fucking girl out of nowhere!"

"i thought it was a one time thing." he replied back easily, still looking at your bunched features, "i thought you had some built up frustration after seeing the result and you had come take your mind off of it."

"so, what are you saying? was it just 'nother quick fuck session with your classmate? you shoved your pen in his direction, a direct attack by invading his private space. your face scrunched up in disgust, "you do this frequently? am i just the newest addition to the roster?"

as your gaze tangled with his, the sheer intensity in his eyes sent a shiver through your system. he quirked an eyebrow up, his lips pressed into a thin line. the pen slipped past your light grasp and under the desk.

"do you know you're ruining my life?" his eyes searched for yours then travelled down to your lips, "you're actually ruining my fucking life."

and he knelt down.

"choso wh-" your eyes widened as his arm reached under the desk, looking for your pens as his gaze remained trained on you.

adjusting his position, he moved till he was under the desk, hidden by the chair and your legs in front of him. once he found the pen, his sleek fingers pulled his hair back. he carefully tied his flowing hair with your pen.

looking up at you, his igniting touches dragged upwards from your knee to the hem of your skirt.

"wh- what are you doing?" you bit down your lip are his fingers travelled inwards, caressing your inner thigh agonizingly slow.

his forearms pulled your body towards him till you were barely seated on the edge. looking around maniacally to spot any other person, you looked back down at the sight in front of you.

his hair was pulled back, arms around your thighs and tongue licking a clean strip from your mid-thigh. slowly moving upwards, his hot breath danced over your drenched panties.

pressing a chaste kiss to your thighs. giving you a small (almost innocent) smile, he whispered, "i think i should return the favour. be a gentleman, hm?"

his thumb swiped over the wet fabric. the slick allowed him to rub over the swollen nub while his other hand found his erect dick. he bit back a groan as he palmed himself through the sweats.

"choso, stop mhmm no-" you whined as he pushed the fabric aside and swiped over your clit. the pad of his thumb moved methodically- going up and down, to the sides and in tight circular motion- while his lips pressed innocent kisses all over your thighs.

"cho~ nghh someone is gonna see us, plea-please stop—"

"shut up then. go back to your assignment. let's pretend i'm not even here, yeah?"

"chosoo—" you whined slowly, looking around again to see no one was around. once you were thorough with your inspection, you found yourself meeting his sinful gaze, rutting your hips in sync with his calloused fingers.

"—look up or people are gonna get suspicious." he stilled for a second, letting his words register in your head. when he refused to move his deft fingers against your pulsing heat, you finally took your eyes off him. training your eyes at the screen instead, you ignored his rough treatment on your clit.

kissing your soft skin, his fingers played with your drenched core. you closed your eyes, feeling his heavy weight against you body. he sucked on your skin and then looked up at you to give you a lewd look. something between a smug smile and a feral, animalistic desire.

"that's right, just do your work okay? i'm gonna handle the rest." he whispered against the blossoming bruise, "trust me when i say that it's taking everything inside me to not fuck you right here, right now."

his lips ghosted over your clitoris as his fingers dipped inside of you. the hot breath set your body on fire as his slim digits played against your inner mechanics. finally, he placed a soft kiss o your twitching, swollen nub and you chose to bite down on your lips instead on moaning his name out.

your hips burned against the wood. your forehead was getting damper and damper with each leisurely lick. and every attempt of writing a word of your assignment was just another incoherent jamble, fueled by his fucked up fantasies.

your pelvis rolled with his finger and the ache built up in your stomach as he went faster and faster against you, still whispering sweet nothings as if honey was his own language.

the ache built and built and built and you closed your eyes as your orgasm finally washed over you like waves. you tucked your head under your arms, resting your forehead against the cool, wooden desk as you silently screamed out.

his fingers slowed down their assault on your twitching body and he pressed one last kiss to your quivering thighs before removing his fingers. fixing your underwear and cleaning off the nectar on his fingers, he climbed up again.

you cocked your head sideways to look at him. he flashed you a grin before taking the pen out and handing it back to you, "here you go. you should be careful with your belongings"

you rolled your eyes, "fuck off."

and he gave you another large smile, relishing in your huffs and jitters.

pulling yourself back up, you truly thought he'd walk away now that you had cum over his fingers. i mean what else was left? he had come and ruined your concentration. he had won at your game. so what else now? why wasn't he leaving?

"uhm" you gave him a skeptical look, "aren't you gonna go now?"

he raised an eyebrow, dragging the chair closer next to you, "want me gone so soon?"

you turned around to face him. you could feel the steam physically rise out of your face out of sheer embarrassment. "i mean i thought we were just... like? you know—"

"—fuck buddies or something?"

"i mean yeah?"

"i don't think we can be fuck buddies. or friends with benefits." when your face fell, he gave you an honest smile, "'cause we aren't exactly friends... and we haven't exactly fucked."

a blush crept up your throat at his ease over such depraved words, "right, yeah."

"but." he dragged his chair outwards and stood up, "we can be. friends, i mean." he looked away from you, pausing. "i mean, i'll text you maybe?"

"maybe?"

"maybe." he tucked in the chair inwards to it's actual position. then his fingers drummed along the wooden chair, "i am still not sure if i wanna be friends with my rival, you know?"

"oh, fuck off."

he started walking away, giving you a last smile over his shoulder, "i'll text you."

you bit back a smile of your own, "i'll wait."

a/n: tempted to make a third part (and finish off the story with a sweet, nice bow) but idk if i should lol. part three is up! hope you enjoy!! tagging: @somejojofanlol @little-art-addiction @seaweed-empire @basilgardener @rkiveinmarvel

#jjk #jjk smut #choso smut #choso #choso kamo smut #choso kamo #jjk x reader #choso x reader #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #choso fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader smut

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rootbeerworshiper · 1 day

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means something

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure

warnings: angst lol

a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different

love, sienna <3

you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.

but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.

‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.

it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.

but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.

he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.

that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.

April 17th, 2022

dear Matt,

i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.

it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.

i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.

how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.

“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.

“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.

it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.

“wait someone sent the letters?”

“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”

“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”

the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”

“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.

“i thought you’d come around Matt”

now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.

along with this, i know everything about you.

i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.

i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.

i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.

i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.

whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.

“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.

he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”

i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”

“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”

i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.

you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.

how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?

i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.

we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.

“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.

“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.

“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”

“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”

“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.

but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.

it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”

it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.

i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.

you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?

i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.

that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.

i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.

this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.

i just have one question for you.

did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.

i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.

but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.

anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.

i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.

thanks for listening, y/n.

you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.

it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.

regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.

a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #Spotify

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yanderederee · 2 days

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SleepOver

June1st, 2004

a/n: coping w past trauma go brrrrrr— I thought it was a cute idea. I hope yall like it♡ longer than my usual words tbh, 3.5k words… whoops. ALSO!!! I love! Writing! For MamaBaji Ryoko! Why is she also lowkey a comfort character at this point? Pls read it for her if nothing else ♡

c/w: off screen child ab*se, fluffy comfort though.

before! › now! › after!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Keisuke and Ryoko Baji were sat on their living room sofa, eyes glued to the TV. This was it, the finale of their favorite detective-murder-mystery show. Already half an hour into the episode, they were at the edge of their seats. All the answers to all the mysteries would soon come to light…

That is, until the shrill call of the home phone broke the tension.

“Kei, you get it.” Ryoko said quickly, eyes not leaving the screen. Keisuke clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Just let it ring, I ain’t missing this!”

His mother threw an empty beer can at him weakly. “It’s bad luck to not answer a phone call!”

Keisuke gave an exaggerated groan, before doing as he was told. “Don’t let me miss anything!” He called before picking the phone from its receiver. If only he could simply pause the show for a moment to pick up where he left off….alas, it is 2004—-

“What?” He asked rudely. Before he could even have the chance to correct himself with a proper greeting, the eerie sound of crying stopped him in his tracks.

“K-kei…” your strained voice rang loud— despite it only being a whisper.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Where are you?” He rapid fired questions, already itching to throw on his shoes.

“H… he hit me… not l-like usual… I—“ you cried even harder, breaking your poor boyfriend’s heart.

“That fucking bastard… are you still at home?” He asked. Honestly, he was eager to speed over and beat your father to a fucking pulp. He’d only met the guy once, by accident. After he learned of your father’s disgusting habit of hitting you anytime he was frustrated, Baji made it a point to make sure you were home as little as possible. He should have rocked his shit the second he first found out.

“He… kicked me out. I kind of already started walking to your place… if that’s okay,” you said softly, worriedly. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you beforehand, if it any trouble- I’ll—“ you began to excuse yourself, in case inviting yourself over on such short notice was a nuisance.

“I’m on my way. Keep walking along the same path we always do, I’ll find you. I’ll take mom’s phone with me just in case, call me if anything changes, okay? I’ll be there in just a few minutes.” Keisuke sped his words out, turning to his mom expectingly. “I’m sorry….” You sobbed into the reciever. “Don’t apologize, don’t ever apologize. I’ll be there soon, I promise.” He replied softly. “I’ll see you soon, remember, call me on mom’s phone if you need me before I show up.”

After he’d receiving your confirmed response, he hung up the phone and ran to his room to grab his bike keys. “Who was that? Where are you going? Why do you need my phone?” Ryoko called out, worried.

“Y/n. I’m picking her up. Need your phone just in case, alright?” Keisuke said, rather than asked. Her eyes grew wide with worry, quickly pulling the decise out of her purse to hand it to him.

“What happened?” She asked, but her son was in too much of a hurry, already stepping on the heel of his shoes. “I’ll be back,” he gave no further explanation, before running out of his apartment and down the stairs.

After retrieving his bike, he was off like a bat out of hell on route to you. Keisuke could remember the path you both took to walk back and forth between each other’s homes even if he was blindfolded at this point.

True to his word, it had only taken 7 minutes to reach you; who was walking small on the furthest edge of the street. “Y/n!” He yelled after you, skidding his bike to a halt, too quickly had he hopped off and kicked over his kickstand.

He ran to you, arms open for you as you rammed yourself into his chest, tugging tightly to his tee shirt.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.” He said calmly, careful to maintain his composure for you. He didn’t want you mistaking his pent up aggression as your fault. He could wait to release it the next time he saw your father.

“Keisuke..” you sobbed into his shirt, shaking like a leaf when his arms wrapped around you tightly. “I know. Don’t cry anymore, everything’s fine now.” He did his best at comforting you, even if he wasn’t confident in his ability to do so.

“Let’s go home, we can stop by the corner store and grab some snacks on our way. ‘You ate dinner yet?”

He pulled away, just enough to look at your poor face. God, you bruised fast. Keisuke hated how much the sight sent him over the edge. He always looked at you to feel steady and at ease with all the was wrong in the world. Yet now, seeing you so upset, hair disheveled, tear stained, and bruised… he wasn’t sure how long his restraint would last.

Still, your angelic smile took him out of his grotesque thoughts of violence. You smiled like you were so relieved to see him. Despite your poor state, you were happy to finally be held by your ever concerned boyfriend. “I’d like that…” you whispered, throwing your arms over his shoulders again before burrowing into the crook of his neck.

Baji took a deep— deep breath, before letting it out, and holding you tighter.

How many times would he break his promise of protecting you? The pain of not being able to do so was slowly eating away at him.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

When you both finally made it home safe, Ryoko was sitting at the table, fiddling with a cup of tea anxiously. Quick to greet you both, the mother all but froze upon seeing your bruised face. Similarly to her son, her stomach sank and turned. Unable to hide her prickling of tears, Ryoko rushed over to you and held you in her arms tightly.

“Oh honey…” she whispered into your hair, holding back from crying as best she could. Things like this didn’t usually upset her, she’d gotten used to her son coming home with much worse a long time ago.

But you were a different story. You didn’t deserve any of the hurt that came your way.

The feeling of being embraced by her motherly scent, you were quick to tip over the edge as well. You were just emotionally vulnerable right now, you couldn’t help when fresh hot tears came spilling over onto her shirt.

“Sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.” She said with a squeeze, a final look over of your face, before dashing off to the bathroom.

Unsure, you looked over at your boyfriend. He gave you a warm smile and smoothed a hand over your back. Walking with you andsitting next to you on the couch, he pulled open the bag from the corner store. “I know you said you were cool with it, but you’re sure Yakisoba’s alright for dinner? I mean, I do it all the time I guess so I ain’t one to talk but—“

“What? Have you not eaten?” Ryoko asked with furrowed brows, hands full with anti-swelling gel and an ice pack. Nervously, you looked down in your lap. Ryoko sighed, sitting on her knees while giving your face another look over. “It’s okay, I’m not mad sweetheart. I’m happy you’re here,” she said kindly, resting her hand on your opposite cheek. “If you ever need anything, we’ll help you. You don’t even need to ask, okay?” She said while looking you in the eyes, apparently emotional as she did so.

You tried to reply to her kind words, but got chocked up before you could. So instead, you nodded softly, hugging her. She hugged you back, looked at her son, glancing at the first aid materials laid out on the table, and back to him, expectedly.

Keisuke nodded to his mother when she gave you another final squeeze before lifting to her feet. “I was just about to whip up some dinner,” she lied with an award winning grin. “Any requests?” She asked, already halfway to the kitchen.

“Her cooking sucks, but it’s tolerable—“ Keisuke began to tease, expecting to have to dodge a thrown ladle in response. But given the situation, Ryoko’s death glare was equally as bone chilling.

You giggled at the exchange, feeling a weight of tension lifting off your shoulders being in the casual and warm home. “No ma’am, no requests.” You replied. “She likes extra konbu in her soup, and extra rice.” Baji called over, grinning ear to ear when you gave him an embarrassed shove.

“Here,”Keisuke held the ice pack up, now that it wasn’t dangerously cold to hold against your face. Still cold to the touch, you flinched unexpectedly. “Hold that on there for a while. ‘Less you want to be spoiled, I can hold it for ya” he chuckled in jest.

“I got it, thanks.” You chuckled back, and held the ice pack to your cheek.

Keisuke was practically a professional when it came to patching up wounds, ever since his mom started making him to do it himself years ago. He’d be sure to help you apply the anti swelling gel after dinner.

To waste the time, Keisuke quickly turned on the re-run for his show’s finale.

You’d seen enough episodes to know a few characters names, and some important plot points, but still fell short of many of the shocking twists the show threw at your flabbergasted boyfriend.

Sitting so closely on the couch was still a little foreign to you, normally used to sitting side by side on the floor pillows. It felt weird when your knees would touch eachother, or when his arm would casually fall behind you in the back of the couch, his warmth radiating against the back of your neck.

You felt yourself wanting to lean closer, to lay your head against his shoulder. Perhaps if you were alone, you would be so bold. But with his mother just a few feet away; you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

“Damn that was good!” The youngest Baji hollered with glee. “I know right! Even I couldn’t have saw that one coming!” Ryoko hollered back with a laugh. “Alright, dinners ready!”

Quick to help you up from the couch by ever so chivalrously taking your hand in his, you both made way to sit at the table with giddy little smiles.

It wasn’t much, and while Baji’s off-handed comment wasn’t incorrect, you felt as though you’d just finished eating the best dinner you’d had in a very long time.

“Thanks for the meal!” You tried gathering the dishes together to help clean, but Ryoko simply wouldn’t allow it. “I’m glad someone appreciated it,” she chuckled before beginning the washing.

“About tonight, I’d offer you Keisuke’s bed tonight; but that brat can’t keep his room clean to save his life. The sheet probably hasn’t been—“ “I just washed them three weeks ago!” “Oh my god.” She sighed.

“Anyway, if you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ll have Kei bring out a few blankets to lay on. Is that okay?” She asked worried.

“I really shouldn’t impose,” you tried to deflect the act of kindness, but the thought of going home made you physically want to throw up. “But… as long as you’re okay with having me, the couch is plenty. Thank you so much.”

Ryoko smiled happily, and gave her son a quick look, as if to tell him to fetch what she’d asked for. He obediently got up from his spot at the table, and left to bring in the spare blankets. “Do you need a shower?”

“No ma’am.” “You’re sure? You don’t have to be shy, I’ll lock Kei in his room so he won’t peek.”

“I WOULDNT DO THAT!” Keisuke yelled at the top of his lungs with a red face.

You laughed. “No, I’m alright, really.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back with some night clothes.” She patted your head before walking off to her room.

All the attention had began to overwhelm you, as you started fidgeting in the dinning room chair. It was a lot, more than you could get used to in such a short time.

“Sorry, I can tell you’re probably uncomfortable. That’s just the way she is.” Your boyfriend spoke in a quiet tone, as to not alert his mother in the room over. “She just really cares about you. ‘Appreciate you for putting up with her.”

You both sat in silence for a few seconds, until you stood up and helped with tucking in some blankets between the couch cushions. “You have a really good mom, Kei. I understand why you’re so serious about doing well in school now. Let’s work together to make her proud, okay?” You said to him, earning you a shocked look.

The shock wore off, and left behind a childlike smile. “Let’s do our best.” He agreed, patting your head gently, til his hands began running down the sides of your hair, and onto your cheek.

The genuine moment shared between you two made your heard pound. He’s touch was so gentle and considerate. Had you only known Baji as a brawler, the act would have seemed foreign coming from him. But you knew Keisuke as a gentle person, who loves animals enough to care for the local strays, who looked out for his friends, and fought on their behalf.

This was just another side of him you absolutely adored.

The tension created was undeniable, as you both slowly leaned into one another, threatening to share a kiss in his own living room.

“Alright, here you go!” Ryoko called out loud, as if intentionally. Your faces both went red at being caught to blatantly. “T-thank you!” You yelled back, quick to your feet and to grab the garments from her arms. “I’ll get changed.”

Quick to lock yourself into the bathroom, you couldn’t get over how hot your face was burning. The swelling on your cheek stung at the blood flow, eventually bringing you back to reality.

About why you were there in the first place. You looked in the mirror, assessing the damage for yourself. It was definitely dark, but the swelling was not as bad as it could have been.

As you changed out of your day clothes and into the clean night wear, you noticed something funny. The sweatpants fit fine, but the shirt was considerably large. Looking it over, it was a black shirt with a skull print. Definitely Keisuke’s.

Did she accidentally give you the wrong shirt? Still, as you brought the collar up to hide the lower half of your face, you could smell his usual scent over the laundry detergent. It was so comforting.

After folding your clothes as neatly as possible, you left the bathroom and headed back to the living room.

“Alright let’s see… a plastic bag to store your clothes… an extra pillow… that should be everything.” Ryoko yawned. “Alright, time to call it a night. I work in the morning, but I’ll be quiet so I don’t wake you. Sleep well Y/n~”

She escaped to her room, but quickly gave a shout, “You too Keisuke! Go to bed and don’t try pulling any funny business! My door’s open!”

Keisuke clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes at her final comment.

“Here, let me help you with this real quick, then I’ll be out of your hair.” He said while pulling out the gel from earlier. Careful as to not apply any unnecessary pressure, his middle finger gently rubbed circles into your cheek. You sat patiently as he did so, happy to be taken care of as if you were made of glass.

Once he’d finished, he tried retracting his hand, but… couldn’t. Keisuke looked over your face again, disappointed. “I’m sorry this happened…” he whispered, and hung his head. His hand followed suit, gripped in a fist as it rested beside you on the couch. “I keep saying I’ll protect you, yet…”

You smiled, accepting that it was your turn to comfort his insecurities. “You take care of me more than you realize, Kei… I couldn’t be selfish enough to ask for anything more.”

Baji sighed, laying his head in your lap.

“You should be more selfish, yaknow that?”

“I’ve always taken care of myself. I’ll manage.” You said softly.

It didn’t do anything to comfort him though.

Suddenly, an idea popped in his head. He smiled, and looked up at you from his resting position. “How’s learning self-defense sound? I’ll teach ya.”

Your eyes widened. “Learn self defense? Like, how to fight? I don’t think—“ you nervously looked away, but Keisuke took your hand in his, leaning closer. “Not how to fight, dummy. I’d rather kill someone than let you fight. Just some basic self-defense. Well, maybe more intermediate.” He thought about it eagerly. “Please? I swear I won’t be hard on you. I’ll even demonstrate with Chifuyu first so you know what to do.”

Keisuke has always been a pretty passionate guy, but right now, he was absolutely starry eyed.

Always quick to give in, you giggled at his eagerness. “Sure, I think that’s a good idea.”

After agreeing to his idea of teaching you how to defend yourself, and a final call from his mom to leave you alone, he finally departed into his own room.

Even with all the lights off, and no voices echoing through the small apartment… it felt like a home. A genuine home. It was nothing like the cold, large and quiet house you visited after school.

You felt safe, secure under the cozy blankets. The couch was comfortable, and the extra pillows elevated your head to lesson the swelling in the morning.

Therefore, There was no reason for you to be awake still, after two hours of tossing and turning.

It’s not like you were uncomfortable. Why couldn’t you go to sleep? Perhaps it was because your mind was working overtime. When you went home in the morning, dad was sure to be pissed at you for not coming home, even if he was the one to kick you out in the first place.

You were literally damned if you did return, and damned if you didn’t. You were worried about the consequences. Would he hit you the same as he did just a few hours ago? Would he ignore you? Ground you? Forbid you from seeing Baji ever again?

Well, it’s not like he knew Baji was your boyfriend in the first place. He probably already forgot all about his existence.

Still, the possibilities kept multiplying, causing you to stir with upset.

“Hey, you still awake…?” A soft whisper called from the other end of the living room. Turning to face the sound, you found Keiuske standing awkwardly. “Yeah…” you whispered back in a disappointed tone. “Can I sit with you?” He asked right after; already making his way closer to you.

You could never deny him, ever.

“Of course,” you smiled at him through the darkness, finally able to make out his facial features with him closer now, seated on the floor by your head. “Why are you still awake?”

Keisuke rested his arm on the couch, laying his head like a pillow against it as he stared at you. “I dunno.” He lied. It was easy to tell when he lied when he looked at you so sincerely.

“You sure?” You doubled down, propping your head up on your wrist to look down at him. He didn’t look away.

“I just…” Keisuke thought about his next words carefully. “I don’t know why, really… guess I’m just restless.”

You nodded, folding back a piece of hair that fell in his face. “Me too.” you lied. And he could tell. He didn’t call you out on it though. Playing with his hair eventually lead to you running your fingers through it, the same as you would when petting PekeJ. This brought Baji so much comfort, his eyes started slacking.

Not wanting to say anything to ruin the mood, you silently kept petting Baji’s smooth hair through your fingers., occasionally running your nails along his scalp to ease him further. While he began to doze off, you took time to appreciate how pretty your boyfriend was.

His clear complexion, although littered with tiny battle scars. His thick eyebrows, permanently narrowed to give him his signature resting bitch face. The faint scent of strawberry chapstick, the same one you gifted him after teasing him about how chapped his lips were for your first kiss.

Everything about him made you feel so at ease. Completely entranced, you couldn’t think about anything else.

No stupid stuff like your family, at least.

Once you were certain he had fallen asleep, you leaned in close and laid a kiss on his forehead. “I love you,”you whispered away from his ear, not wanting to wake him.

And despite not being conscious, Keisuke smiled.

You pulled one of the multiple blankets off of you, and gently draped it over him.

You laid your head down again, and watched the back of his eyelids dance in slumber, his soft snoring helping ease you to sleep yourself.

taglist: @lovley212 ,

#I hope this post reaches you in good spirits #I’m sincerely unwell #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tr x reader #Tokyo revengers baji #tr baji #Baji #Baji keisuke #keisuke baji #baji x reader #keisuke x reader #baji keisuke x reader #a letter from Baji Keisuke #letter from keisuke baji

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wingedjellyfishflight · 2 days

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Freedom Calls Alternate Ending

As you run, the thought enters your head that maybe you should stop. Just give up and distract your former employer and coworkers as long as possible to give him a longer head start. The more you consider it, the better it sounds. Your pace slows, and you begin looking around for a smaller fork off the main path that you can take. Your footsteps stray off the main path, and it takes only a few paces before an arm grabs you from behind, lifting you up, and the man curses nearly silently in your ear. He runs along the main trail toward the road. It takes only a few more minutes to reach it, closer than you thought.

"What the fuck was that? You dumping me into a trap here?" He stops on the edge of the forest, not venturing out and drops you to the ground, not caring that you bump your head or that something tears into your leg.

"Ouch! Fuck you! I was going to run a distraction so you could get clear. Lead them off in the wrong direction." You can't see his face and you don't make an effort to, your hands reaching to your injuries and coming back wet on both. "Great, now I have that to deal with." You feel a bit faint as you stand, but force your body upright.

"I still don't trust you." He almost seems to be convincing himself of that fact.

"Good. I never wanted you to. Now, I assume you can get away from here?" He nods, and you start walking toward the road. "My job is done. Now fuck off back to your loving team and good morals." You do your best to ignore the pulsing pain in your leg, but he moves to stand in front of you, barely an inch away, blocking your way forward. Ignoring him and his crossed arms, you skirt around to keep going. A growl makes you stop in your tracks until you realize it is coming from him. When you continue to walk away, he grabs you, spinning you to face him.

"We need to talk, and you're coming with me." Trying to pull away makes his hands tighten painfully into your arms, so you just give in.

"Fine, just get us out of here, then." He picks you up again, carrying you over his shoulder with one hand on your waist. He jogs down the road to the nearest marker and continues on after reading it.

"Mile 435. Just a mile or so." He reaches it in about fifteen minutes, and you are on the edge of hurling from being jostled around when he puts you down again. The pain in your leg has increased tenfold with the jarring impact, and you immediately drop to all fours and lose control of your stomach. It feels like everything over the last week comes up. Afterward, you can barely keep from falling down into it, but that iron bar of an arm is back, standing you up. This time, he scoops you bridal style, and you bite your hand, trying not to scream as he bumps the wound on your leg. It takes him a moment to feel the wet stickiness, and he reacts by shoving you into the bed of a truck that you hadn't yet noticed.

Weak, you don't fight him yanking off your pants. Instead, you hiss at him to get you out of here. He signals the truck, and you hear the screech of the tires as it takes off. You fade in and out, feeling weaker. At one point, you can feel him searching your clothes, and another, he is yelling something that makes you laugh, though you don't know why.

When you regain consciousness, it's to the smell of a hospital. The too clean stench of antiseptic makes your stomach roil, but you manage to swallow away the urge to puke. Turning your head, you see the masked man sitting there, watching you closely, his eyes never straying from your form. He says nothing, barely moves as he keeps watch. You turn away, looking at the rest of the spartan room, surprised you aren't handcuffed to the bed.

"Evening," you say quietly, your voice a bit scratchy and your throat dry. You look back at the masked man, waiting patiently for his response.

"Evenin," he responds gruffly after a long moment. "You have anyone to miss you back home," he asks after a few more minutes. At the shake of your head, he nods slowly, seemingly making a decision. "Good, you can't go back anyway. You have a bounty on you."

You sigh quietly. "It was worth it," you say with a shrug, not looking at him. "Even if they get to me, it was worth it because you'll do more good than I could ever hope to do..." You close your eyes, ashamed and disappointed that your life turned out to be so lackluster and you feel like this one act, a single hour out of your entire life, might be the only thing you could be proud of out of the twenty-some years you have lived.

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "Thank you... and I'm sorry for hurting you," he says softly. When you open your eyes, you feel a shudder run through you. He is looking down at you with an unreadable expression, his eyes brightly shining from his mask. "So, you have no one waiting for you. You are in danger the moment you leave this base. And you have no resources to support yourself. Am I correct?" His voice is soft, but menacing in a way as he lays out how helpless you are now. How drastically your impulsive decision has altered and effectively ended your life.

"Correct," you whisper, trying not to cry as you realize that you are essentially a walking dead man, simply waiting for the bounty to be carried out with no way out in a foreign country with no ID or way to survive.

"Then... I have a proposition," he says, tracing a gloved hand across your cheek, down your throat, and skimming across your breast to your hip, suddenly looming over you. "I will keep you safe, housed, fed, and... happy. You will be my perfect little housewife and all that such a position would entail," he says, his other hand wrapping around your wrist and bringing your hand to the bulge in his pants. "Agreed?"

You swallow nervously, looking up at him and the way his body fills your vision for a long moment. You consider his words and that you clearly don't have another choice if you want to last more than a week before nodding. "A- Agreed," you say shakily.

"Good girl," he purrs, reaching down to unbutton his fly. "Show me how devoted you can be, luv."

#call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent

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paimonial-rage · 8 months

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hi! i'm the anon who requested for tighnari and "would they fix you". i like your answer, and it made me wonder... would tighnari let us fix him?

[Character Analysis Ask Meme]

Will Tighnari let you fix him?

Though many would argue with his way of going about things, let it be said that Tighnari is nothing if not purposeful. Even when he yells at the idiotic tourists gallivanting around foolishly in the Avidya Forest, indulging in his temper is not due to a loss of control. No, it is always a calculated decision. Sad to say, some people need a brutal shock to get things through their thick skulls, and if that's what it takes to save lives, so be it. Why mention this first? This is because all of Tighnari's actions are made with thought. To insinuate he needs to fix something about himself ignores the reasons why he chose to go that route in the first place.

So would Tighnari let you fix him? Not without a lot of grumbling on his part. If he cares about you enough, he will attempt to make the changes. But please expect much sarcasm muttered under his breath as he "fixes" his mistakes.

#genshin x reader #tighnari #tighnari x reader #you mentioned 'fixing' him in a general sense so i hope i conveyed that properly here haha #if you told him that he needs to be more polite when handling people i can see him like...#starting out with brutal sass and sarcasm before stopping himself to be more polite but his face like ':)))))))))))))))))))))'#you feel me?#prolly using the exact words he was going to say from the very start (sass and all) and then slapping a polite 'please' at the end #he wouldn't be offended by you trying to get him to change #more just exasperated like 'is this really that big of a deal?'#the thing with tighnari is that like say he were inherently flawed in some way perhaps he'd respond more readily?#i'm not saying tighnari is perfect but he really has no glaring flaws he needs to change #he's a hard working and caring person that cares about his friends and doing a good job protecting the forest #the biggest ding against him is his temperament #i suppose if you had a fear against people raising their voices he would make it a point to change for you but like....#i think that would only be for his interactions with you (not with others)#but the thing with his temperament is that like it's never undeserved or out of control #it's always from a place of caring #honestly when i first read you ask i was like... insulted on his behalf HAHA #this man has done nothing wrong!!#nahida disagrees with me tho if you read her voice line on him LOL

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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months

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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

#writing #creative writing #writer problems #writing advice #writing community #writing a book #writing problems #novel writing #on writing #writing tips #writing help #writers on tumblr #writers block #female writers #writers of tumblr #writers blog #adhd writer

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peacockwinchester · 4 months

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You guys ever just remember that one song you got to sing? Like damn I slayed that as a sophomore. And then it all went to shit but hey! Maybe I'll be able to perform again like that (they didn't cast me senior year and now I'm just waiting for the right production)

#ranting abt my theatre experience from here on:#my high scool dept has a huge favoritism issue and is notorious for it and as soon as I came out I sort of fell from grace to the directors #they found more acceptable lead actors and cast them and got lumped into the kooky grandma role until there wasn't one and they just #let me go #at least this is my theory bc as soon as I started expressing myself it started to go to shit #and last year they just stopped casting me and i'm trying to move on but that shit hurts man #i just want to be myself and they decided they like this girl for a part over me bc she 'looks the part' and ppl aren't gonna look sideways #at them when they read the bio in the program #it sucks and i hate myself enough that sometimes it just gets to me. like i hated my voice and look enough and you didn't have to make it #all for nothing yknow?#like what's the point of having good stage presence and a good voice? i'm not using it outside of that bc i hate talking and #i refuse to sing in front of ppl if not in a musical #btw the song i love the most was the i love you song from 25th annual :)

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kiwisbell · 6 months

Text

Honey-Do [joel miller]

It’s Sunday, chore day, and Joel has a honey-do list item of his own: get his girl pregnant.

my masterlist!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings: pre-outbreak joel, married!joel, pure fluff and smut, slight au, body worship, some cock worship, handyman!joel, malewife!joel, joel “my wife doesn’t lift a finger in this home” miller, vague daddy undertones, overstimulation, joel miller is a munch, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected PIV (wrap it up unless you’re joel), creampie, breeding kink, actual breeding, talks of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, domestic bliss, joel’s love language being acts of service and by that i mean putting a baby in his wife, competence kink

word count: ~ 10k (someone stop me)

read on ao3!

a/n: hello, lovelies!! i received this ask ages ago and the idea inevitably snowballed because who is self-control?? does she go to a different school? anyway, this fic is pure plotless domestic fluff and domestic smut (is that a thing? yes!), so i really hope you all enjoy! pre-outbreak joel is very special to me xoxo

HONEY-DO

Your shared bedroom looks out over the eastern sunrise. A mutually-assured vigil, keeping one another safe—and timely.

In the mornings, the golden light spills through the break in the curtains. It will peek slowly inside and gently warm your body awake, testing the limits of its power. When you roll over and make a soft groan of protest in your sleep, seeking more warmth, the little strip of sunlight will widen, directing you. You will find the body next to yours, nuzzling close, your nose bumping his bare chest, and settle happily against it. In return, his body will seek yours, symbiotic exchange, a greedy arm pulling you closer.

In frustration, the sun grumbles it way higher in the sky, shining brighter and spreading wider.

It takes a couple tries to get it right: to shine in just the right way to make you blink rapidly awake, squinting in the glow. You gradually come to life, your lungs sucking in the first deep breath of morning air, your naked body stretching like a cat in the sunspot. Dust hovers lazily in the air, heralding a Sunday occupied by chores. The room is still, silent, and kissed by morning rays. Peaceful.

You examine him in the light: tanned skin sparkling gold, plush lips slightly parted, broad chest rising and falling. His hair is pleasantly tousled from sleep. There are patches of silver beginning to thread through his dark brown beard, and in your self-sustaining state of affection, you gently put your lips to one of the patches of skin where hair does not grow.

Your persistence grows with every second he refuses to wake. It may be a bit petulant, your lips smattering soft kisses across his jaw, beneath his ear, down to his neck and all its veins, but it begins to work. He stirs, groaning softly, turning onto his side and wrapping both arms around your waist. He does all of this without opening his eyes, resting his head on your belly and nuzzling against you as if he could get any closer—sated, for now, his body knowing nothing but the pull toward you.

You comb your fingers through his messy hair and listen to him breathe while he listens to your heartbeat.

“It’s ten,” you whisper.

“Hmph,” he says against your belly. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet; if you didn’t know his breathing patterns like they were mapped out in the lines of your palms, you would think he’s still sleeping.

“We slept in,” you point out.

Joel gently bumps his forehead into your stomach as if he were banging his head against a wall. “Shit,” he grumbles.

You laugh as his moustache tickles your skin. “Do you want to get up now?”

Another grunt, accompanied by a shake of his head. Big, strong arms pull you closer.

“I’ll make you breakfast,” you coo, stroking his hair away from his face. “Eggs… bacon… coffee…”

Joel presses his lips to your belly. “Don’t go takin’ my job, now,” he says, his voice groggy with disuse. “No girl of mine’s gonna run around gettin’ her own damn coffee.”

“Hmm. Means you have to move, Romeo.”

This earns a playful smack to the side of your thigh, his big, callused hand kneading your flesh while he wakes himself up with mouthfuls of your scent—linen and vanilla—and gulps down the sunlight glowing on your skin.

“Never mind,” you sigh, dreamy and complacent under his attention.

His eyes finally crack open, peering up at you, honey-brown pools touched by the golden light. He rests his chin on your belly and keeps his arms wrapped around your hips. His fingers trace shapes up and down your lower back. “You got a honey-do list?” he asks with a crooked grin.

Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “That depends. Can I get you to mow the lawn without a shirt on?”

“What do I get if I do?” he teases, his hand moving to your hip, contouring his hand to the shape of you.

You lift a brow, easing your legs apart underneath his body, letting him feel the warmth between your thighs. Like a moth to the goddamn flame, his eyes wide and eager, Joel crawls down your body with his mouth on your belly. Pausing just above your naked cunt, he blows cool air onto your clit and watches you squirm.

“After,” you gasp. “After chores, honey. We’ll never get up if we start now.”

“Don’t think I can make my woman come in good time?” he challenges, his palms keeping your thighs spread. Your pretty pussy glistens before his eyes, better than any fuckin’ breakfast. He begins to salivate.

Your head falls back into the pillows. “I never said that.”

Joel isn’t listening anymore. He kneads your thighs as he peers at you above your belly, your tits, to the curve of your jaw as you lie comfortably. Good. His baby ain’t about to get herself worked up on a Sunday morning.

He lowers his face just enough to let you feel his lashes tickling your lower belly, and you giggle his name, the sound pure adrenaline to his blood. You're so soft and supple under his fingers, moulding to his touch, letting him take care of you. You may be in charge of him, but this is where he takes control.

He presses a soft kiss to your clit and you sigh, your head turning toward the direction of the sun. It warms your face while your husband slides his tongue through your wet slit, lazily and sleepily, as though he's operating on instinct alone. Gathering up your wetness on his tongue, he groans, his fingers dimpling your thighs.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ made for me.”

“Oh, God,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering. “Baby…”

That sweet little whine is poison. He cannot do anything but continue to drink you down, flicking his tongue against your clit. He's a sucker and he's always been. Your pretty fuckin’ smile from across the bar that first night; your tight black dress and the too-sweet cocktail you smooth-talked him into ordering that had his adenoids prickling; your instinct for sensing others’ troubles and your uncanny ability to make them feel like they have none at all. He never stood a chance.

He knows for a goddamn fact every man in the bar that night wanted to do to you what Joel is doing now: lapping up your juices with his tongue, spit mingling with arousal, warming his body between your thighs under the watch of the mid-morning sun. But he got you. Joel. He bought you a drink and he took you on a date. He got to taste your pretty pussy and he got to sit you on his dick—after the second date, that is.

He's the one who gets to wake up with you, share matching gold bands around your fingers, kiss you freely. As far as he's concerned, he's the luckiest guy on the fuckin’ planet.

He feels particularly green when your back arches, your lips parting around his name, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on your clit. You're unashamed to take pleasure, never shy about telling him Oh, fuck, yes! Right there, honey! Joel, yes, that feels so good, baby.

Joel preens with pride. His hot tongue glides over your clit, smooth and wet, easily coaxing you to a languid high. The golden spotlight through the curtains shines on you. You're the starlet and he's the adoring fan. From the first day, he knew he'd do anything to make you notice him.

“This wasn’t your first bar fight, was it?”

Plucking pieces of glass out of his bloodied knuckles, you looked up through your lashes at Joel, who had been staring at you since you sat him down in the bathroom. Okay—a little longer than that.

He shook his head.

You just smiled at him and gently shook your head. About as much reproach as he would get. “This might sting. Just hold on tight if you need to.”

“Like the sound of that,” he said quietly, and if you heard, you didn't comment. You guided his hand under the warm water and washed the rest of the blood from his knuckles, gently smoothing the pads of your fingers over his rough worker’s hands. Capable, you thought, idly watching the blood swirl into the drain. He barely winced when you put his hand under.

“Wanna tell me why you did it?” you asked him, your tone soothing and sweet.

Joel shrugged. Big, broad shoulders. Humbly strong, until someone made him show it. “Ain't manly to touch a woman like that.”

You lifted your brows. “But it's manly to beat the shit out of the guy who touched her?”

Joel studied your face. Cherry-red lip gloss. Gently flushed cheeks from a healthy couple drinks. The instinctual rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the lighting shifting gently over your collarbones. It was fascinating just to watch you breathe. Even cleaning his bloody knuckles, you slowly circled the pad of your thumb over the back of his hand, like an innate urge to comfort. Your eyes had an old wisdom to them; a particular gleam a person gained when they were familiar with the hardships life had to offer.

He wanted to ask you. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to do more than beat up some asshole who thought he could get away with pinching your ass.

But he would earn it. A real man earned what he got.

“Didn’t beat the shit out of him. Just roughed him up,” he says.

He watched you bite down on a smile. “You're a little twisted, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, eyes flicking to your dewy lips, coated with that gloss. “Think so?”

“Yeah.” You licked your bottom lip and he wondered if you tasted like cherries. “But I'm going to ask you on a date anyway.”

Your fingers curl in Joel’s messy hair, making him groan into your pussy. “Oh, baby,” you gasp, cracking your heavy eyes open to watch him lap at you, practically petting his hair away from his face as his big brown eyes remain fixed to yours.

He purrs, suckling your clit between his lips, his eyes eagerly drinking in the sight of your flushed, tightening body. Making you come is one thing. Watching it is another. Your back arches and your fingers pull on his hair. Scalp prickling, Joel grips your thighs tighter. He’d let you peel away pounds of his flesh if it made you happy. He’d go eagerly to the grave knowing he had put some good into the world, put some light in your eyes.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming—ah!” you cry, your thighs squeezing his head, your sensitive clit pulsing under his tongue as your pussy contracts around itself, seeking something nice and big to grasp onto. His cock is aching, his hips grinding idly against the mattress for relief, his head fuzzy from the pleasure of making you feel good. Your body slowly melts into the bed, your limbs twitching as the tension in your muscles loosens, your lips parted permanently around his name.

Eyes drooping and teary, you try to find him between your thighs, gently stroking his hair away from his face as it begins to fall into his big brown eyes. “Need a haircut,” you croak.

Joel hums, his head listing to the side, using your soft thigh as a pillow. He nips you playfully, your skin a golden path he intends to follow to the end. His hands caress your hips, helping you come down to Earth. You admire the delectable convex slope of his nose, the way it curves deliciously against your skin when he kisses, bites, inhales. He’s freckled and indented with the signifiers of a lived-in life; a good life. His is a likeness you could trace with your eyes closed.

It’s eleven o’clock, and your stomach begins to grumble.

Joel chuckles, pressing a long kiss to your belly. “Gettin’ up now,” he says. “Promise.”

He pulls on a pair of sweatpants, tucking his hard cock away to be dealt with later. Padding down the stairs, Joel is quick to tend to your needs, putting on a fresh pot of coffee. After so long together, his mind operates on autopilot, steering him from the cupboard to the refrigerator and back to the steaming pot, occupied with the menial task of making a good cup. The gentle clinking scrape of the spoon as he stirs your milk into the cup wakes him up until he feels practically revitalised. He keeps his coffee black.

He hears the soft tread of your feet behind him, feels the warmth of your body as you crowd his space, smiles at the way you smooth your palms over the planes of his muscled back in unadulterated admiration. His shoulders are wide, tapering down to the soft belly you’ve nurtured through years of cooking. He’s sturdy and strong and all yours. The sight of him always makes you a bit giddy.

“So handsome,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your face between his shoulder blades. The buffed claws of his woodsy pine scent hook into the spaces between your ribs.

Joel lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the wedding band on your finger, the engagement ring above it. “Sit down, baby. Coffee’s ready.”

You grin against his back, nudging your nose into his tanned skin. “Mmm. That sounds good. But I wanna stay here. ‘s nice and warm.”

“Girl of my dreams,” Joel murmurs, reaching around his back and patting your ass. “C’mon, I’ll keep you warm.”

You grumble your way to the little circular table in the kitchen, tucked into the alcove at the front window. It’s a souvenir from your parents' garage sale when they decided to sell their home and move to Austin. As a girl, you’d draw, scratch, and paint on that table, endlessly entertaining yourself by marking things up. Even now, there are remnants of your childhood in the worn grooves and chipped varnish. It fits nicely into your home, perfectly suited to two. It could even fit one more.

You ruminate as you watch Joel carry two mugs to the table. He knows which cup is your favourite: green ceramic decorated with tiny flowers, perfectly contoured to the shape and size of your hands, warming your palms just nicely between sips. Joel’s mug shows its age: white but slightly yellowed from years of use, bigger than yours. The steam of the coffee gently curls into the air, a dance of silvery ribbons in lock-step. They twist together as you purse your lips and blow. The rich, smooth caramel hue of your coffee contrasts the tar-black of Joel’s.

Since you dragged yourself out of bed on shaky legs, you shrugged on the navy T-shirt he tossed aside last night to give his greedy wife access to his chest. You'd carved some decent marks into his skin, now that you're properly looking: tiny bruises sharpening to purple, faint pinkish scratch marks that you don't remember making.

“Baby, I don’t mind,” he says, watching you scan his chest with a frown creasing your brow.

“But it looks painful, honey. You should let me—”

“You don’t gotta do anything,” says Joel, “‘cept come over here.”

Your brows lift coyly, your body sliding out of the chair and into his lap, legs bracketing his strong thighs. His hand finds a home on your lower back, bunching the hem of his shirt up to find your ass bare, your wet cunt sitting nice and pretty on his hard cock. You gasp when the generous length meets your puffy clit with heavy pressure. “Joel…”

Your voice is a mere whimper, a soft little plea for more, or for mercy. Joel’s always had better restraint than you.

“Warmer now?” he asks, like a real arrogant asshole, slipping his hand under the shirt on your body and splaying his fingers over your ribcage, thumb grazing the underside of your breast.

You do feel warmer, crushed up against him like this. You reach behind you and grab your coffee mug, taking a small sip. Your other hand winds around his neck and scratches the tousled hair at the nape of his neck. Joel hums, leaning close, nuzzling his face between your tits.

“Gimme the list,” he says, voice muffled.

You keep on stroking his hair and drinking your coffee between list items. “Mow the lawn. Clean out the eavestrough. Fix the sink.”

“Hmm, easy work,” he says, his other hand sliding up and down your back. It makes you melt into him even more, giving him the chance to tease a nipple between his teeth through the fabric of your shirt. You huff, wiggling your hips, but he's a brick wall. He does not budge. “Gimme yours, baby.”

You recall the items on your own list. “Vacuum the house. Go for groceries. Touch up the paint on the front door. Do the laundry. Cook dinner. Cut your hair,” you add with a playful smile.

Joel frowns against your chest, pulling back to look up into your eyes like a grumpy, needy dog. “You put all that down for yourself?”

You try to placate him with a kiss on his nose. “You work so hard, sweetie. I could use some hard labour once in a while.”

Joel shakes his head. “You aren’t doin’ all that by yourself.”

“No?” You lift your brows. “Wanna buy it off me, Mr. Miller?”

“I’ll win ‘em from you,” he says, tilting his head back to kiss your jaw. “Name the price.”

You bite your lip and chase his mouth, plush and soft under that dark moustache. “I’ll think on that. Meantime, you can get to work on that lawn while I watch from the comfort of the front porch. That sound fair?”

Joel’s old Southern values rear up every now and then, imparted by his mother and his father’s mother before. Putting in an honest day’s work will make his wife comfortable and happy. He doesn't want you lifting a finger around this home if he's perfectly capable of doing the job himself. He works with his hands all day, gets dirty and sweaty. You shouldn't have to—not when you work so damn hard every other day of the week.

Joel nips your chin. “Fine. But I ain’t gonna forget that I owe you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, baby.”

Joel finishes his coffee, but you take your time with yours, changing into a short blue sundress while Joel, regrettably, puts a pair of jeans and a shirt on. Curling your legs up on the porch swing, you watch your man start the lawnmower, enthralled by the rippling of his back muscles with every pull. You know that some of it’s for show—knowing you're watching makes him want to impress you. Sometimes, he's still the man with the teenaged crush on the girl, doing everything he can and going out of his way to make you smile. It works.

He’s methodical: making lines up and down the lawn, shearing away the too-long blades of grass under the motor. As sweat begins to bloom under his collar and his brow, he wipes his forehead with his forearm and you lick your lips, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of running your tongue all over his strong, naked body. Jesus. You finish off your coffee and force your eyes away from your husband for a moment. It isn't too hot from where you sit on the wraparound porch, but your chest feels sticky.

You rush inside to fill up a glass of water for him, hastily scrubbing your mug clean and putting it back in the cupboard. Maybe you should be occupying yourself with your chores today; you worry nothing will get done if you continue to watch him work in the Texas sun.

He’s just finishing when you shoulder your way back outside, his neck glistening with sweat and golden noon-hour light, warm and tempting. You set the glass on the railing and wait for him to come your way, squeezing your thighs together as your eyes trail up and down his body.

He's always been a capable man, broad and tall—so good at his job that he was offered a promotion after a few months. But it isn't just his strength or his doggedness when it comes to getting his work done. It's the way he’s so eager to finish things, to check off the items on your list, to please you. He frowns at the idea of you doing too much work. He parades you around town with a puffed-up chest, as if to announce, This is my wife. I’m her husband and I’m fucking proud. He takes your pleasure so seriously that it feels like a competitive sport—always outdoing himself, always striving for more. He loves selflessly, and yet he loves just selfishly enough to make sure the world knows you're his.

He’ll be a good daddy.

You glance down at your belly and let yourself picture it: swollen and round, ballooning big enough to fit a new life inside. You imagine smoothing your hand over a growing bump, Joel’s warm palms feeling the undulating kicks of a little baby inside, half of him and half of you. You picture back aches and swelling feet and insatiable cravings and expended energy. And not a part of it deters you. Not a speck of your willpower wavers, the way it would have mere months ago.

Something has changed. It may have been gradual and it may have been sudden. But it's new, all the same. It’s been this way since a week ago, when you looked in your nightstand at your little pink pill organiser labelled by weekday, and decided: No more.

Watching Joel make his way back to you, shielding his eyes from the light, you idly place your hand on your belly. Something new. A welcome change, you think, to have someone new sitting at our little table.

Joel climbs up the steps to the porch and gulps down the glass of water. “Thank you, baby,” he says, wiping his mouth. Your lips part as if to taste the air around him, to chew, to savour, relishing the richness.

Your pupils expand, taking in more of him, and Joel notices, placing a rough hand over yours where it rests on your belly. “You’re lost in thought, honey. Wanna tell me what's in that pretty head?”

“Just…” Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “Thank you for doing that. I know it's a big job.”

“Ain’t nothin’,” says Joel, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Got any idea how I can win those chores off you?”

Hands grasping your hips, sliding over your sweat-slick spine, saccharine noises slipping from your throat onto your tongue and out into the open air. Fingers imprinting permanent fixtures into your ribs. The heady weight of his big, fat cock wrenching you open, as it always does, slow until it isn't anymore. Desperation kicking in, a switch flipped, pummeling and brutal and unforgiving. Uncompromising. Hips pressed flush to your ass, nothing spilling out. Not a drop.

Everything sealed in tight as promises are exchanged as whispers in the dark.

“I want you to put a baby in me.”

All right. You could have been more delicate about it. Not precisely how you wanted to approach the topic, but it seems to get the job done.

Looking down at you, Joel slowly lowers the empty glass, mouth opening as he searches for words. “What?”

There’s no point in shyness or hesitation. You know your body, your mind, your heart. You thread your fingers through Joel’s and let them stay connected over your stomach. “I want you to give me a baby, Joel Miller,” you say softly, your gaze locked to his. “That's my price.”

Joel swallows thickly, his mouth still gaping. “I heard you,” he rasps. “Just… you… you mean it?”

You try not to melt over the tone of his voice: low, bordering on desperate, wanting. There’s hunger in the sound of it. “We’ve talked about it,” you offer, conciliatory. “Lots of times.”

“Yeah, we have.” Joel steps closer, his eyes dipping from your eyes to your mouth, your throat and collarbones, to your belly. His hand flexes. “You gotta be sure. You gotta know it's what you want.”

You cup his face and give him your best smile. It's the sort of smile he remembers from the very first night you met. The sort of person who is unashamed to show their joy on their face. “Honey, I want it all with you.” Your fingers squeeze his. “We’ve waited so long and I don’t want to wait anymore.”

His ears are ringing. All Joel can do is sweep you into his arms and grin into your throat, his hand firm on the back of your head, curling around a fistful of hair. “Girl of my fuckin’ dreams,” he mumbles against your skin. “I’ll make you a momma. Give you just what you want. Everything you want.”

As you close your eyes and open your ears to his ramblings, your erratic heartbeat settles. Serenity finds the pair of you, locked together on your front porch, and the next part of your life begins.

“Don’t think this gets us out of doing chores,” you tease.

“You aren’t gonna lift a goddamn finger,” says Joel fiercely, his lips still littering kisses all over your neck. “You’re havin’ a baby.”

“Honey, I’m not pregnant yet,” you laugh. “I don't need to get all lazy right away.”

“Yeah, you do, and you will. I’m gonna make you the laziest momma in Texas,” says Joel, smiling into your throat, the scratch of his moustache making you dizzy with laughter. “Gonna look so fuckin’ beautiful with a baby in you. Gonna glow like a goddamn firefly. Shit, we need to paint the spare room. I need to build a crib, get time off work—”

“Joel,” you coo, scratching your nails up and down the back of his neck. “We’ll have time to do all of that.”

He pulls back to look down at you, eyes so buttery-soft in the shade of the porch that you impulsively reach for his cheek and run your fingers through his patchy beard. “What’s next on my list?” he asks, holding you around the waist.

You tap your fingers gently against his cheek as you recite each item over again. Joel’s arms tighten, pulling you closer, pupils widening.

“And then what?” he says gruffly.

You beam, and he's so fucking in love that he may keel over, doubled by the intensity of his affection. “And then, you're going to take me to bed and put a baby in me.”

This phenomenon should be studied: how quickly Joel Miller speeds through his chores when he has enough incentive. The anticipation of bending you over on the mattress and wringing every drop of cum from his balls until your stomach swells drives each flick of his hand as he touches up the forest-green paint on the front door, weathered slightly by morning sunlight over the years. The image of his hips pressed flushed to you as he grinds deep, spilling his cum into your womb and forcing it to take, motivates every turn of the steering wheel as he drives you to the grocery store in his clunky Chevy.

He’ll need to drive to Benny’s, get the suspension fixed up; no way in hell he's going to let his pregnant wife sit on the old bench of a bumpy pickup truck, not with the speed bumps dotting the neighbourhood. At least there's a good preschool nearby. He pictures taking his baby to school and he preemptively feels the inevitable first swoop of dread into his gut knowing he'll have to watch his little girl disappear behind those doors. He knows, somehow, that it’ll be a girl. There's not a doubt in his mind.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” you ask him, playing with his fingers as he holds your thigh. Joel is a great driver; he steers so easily, one palm sliding smoothly over the wheel, his eyes alert and his speed under control. It’s a little sexy, and it makes you antsy from where you sit on the bench. Sure, there are chores to do and there’s dinner to make, but it’s getting harder to push your innate needs to the back of your mind. You don't know if you can wait all day to get him inside you.

“Names,” he says. “Got lots of ideas.”

“Yeah? Fire away.”

“Well, I like Eleanor. Good, strong, classic name, y’know? Little wordy, maybe. Then there's Mary, Marie, Hannah, and I can tell you don't like any of ‘em,” he finishes with a laugh, squeezing your thigh. Your silence has always been a tell.

“They're very sweet names,” you concede, “but they don't feel like my baby.”

Joel’s hand slides up to your belly and warms you beneath your dress. “Maybe we’ll feel it,” he says, “when we make her.”

“Think it’ll happen on the first try?” you wonder aloud, watching the scenery whiz by outside. It's a sunny, temperate day for Austin. You think about taking your baby for a walk, lounging lazily in a stroller while you say words that fall on deaf ears, but will resonate in due time nonetheless. You think about a little girl that will cling hard to her daddy’s leg when she gets scared of the storms outside, the way you did when you were little. You think about long nights shushing your sweet baby girl to sleep, about those same nights spent nestled into Joel’s body, the three of you dozing idly on the sofa. A unit.

“If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to try again.” You watch his fingers creep back down between your legs and snap the waistband of your panties.

You smack his hand. “If you keep playin’, Mr. Miller, you're gonna have to take me right here, in this truck. You want to give your wife a bad back?”

Joel grunts, patting your thigh. “Dirty play.”

“That's what I thought.”

Back at home, Joel vacuums the house while you manage, some-fuckin’-how, to convince him to let you do the laundry. He fishes debris and runoff out of the eavestrough, then gets down on his bad knees to tighten the plumbing underneath the sink.

“Let me help, sweetie. At least hand you a wrench or something. You'll hurt your back again.”

“I got it,” he grunts from under the sink. “Just a loose pipe. I’m peachy.”

You just sigh and let him carry on, the stubborn bastard. When he stands, the job done, he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, and you get a generous glimpse of his belly, the trail of dark hair directing your gaze down, down—

“Joel?” you squeak, wringing your hands together.

He drops the shirt back over his abdomen and steps closer. “Yeah, baby?”

“Are you, um… Are you hungry?”

He understands the particular glint in your eye, the telltale widening of your pupils, the hollow of your throat dipping as you swallow, your lashes fluttering gently. Blood surges down to his cock and it begins to fill out his jeans at the thought of taking what he's waited for all day. “No,” he says, licking his bottom lip. You eye every minute movement with meticulous precision. “Think dinner can wait.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you say, crowding him and tugging at the hem of his shirt. He watches you prowl slowly toward him, gaze locked to the heady pull of your eyes. His cock twitches with a vested interest in the body now pressed up against him. Joel cannot look away from the siren now calling him to sea.

“That so?” he rasps, bunching the fabric of your dress so it rides up your hip and gives him a good look at your panties. “You dressed up all pretty today. For me?”

You're as coy as a flirtatious schoolgirl, trailing your fingers up and down his muscled bicep. “Always for you.”

“That’s right, baby. You like me lots, don't you?”

“Mmm, I do,” you purr, your hand sliding up his abdomen to his chest, admiring the hard planes of his strong body. “So handsome, strong, generous…” You get lost in your exploration, eyes dipping to his throat, your lips instinctively seeking the delectable vein that pulses with every beat of his heart. “Such a good man. Gonna be such a good daddy.”

Joel’s breath shudders out of him when he feels your soft, warm mouth on his neck, indulging in the taste of him. “Jesus,” he croaks, gripping your hips hard. “Jesus, honey, you gotta go easy on me. Lemme take it slow—”

—or I swear to God, I’ll blow a load in my jeans.

“You wanna undress me?” you say, like a real fucking tease, pulling away and tugging playfully at the straps of your dress. Joel’s nostrils flare, and he’s walking you back into the wall, cupping the back of your head to protect it, and slanting his mouth over yours.

He’s salty with the sweat that drips from his temples and he still smells of fresh-cut grass. He’s all Joel, all yours, the first gulp of air you breathe in when you wake and the last sigh you exhale before you sleep.

You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips and dips his tongue between them to taste yours. You taste like mint and coffee and he clutches you tighter, wrinkling the fabric of your pretty little dress in his fist. The sunlight filters through the windows, intrusive, bleeding into the moment as if taking a snapshot. Joel kisses you so deeply that your throat feels stained with the gasps of breath you exchange.

You're sweet enough that it makes him ache, bending your back to fit you to him, craving more. Closeness is not enough—he needs possession.

Joel’s kisses are bruising, unforgiving, merciless, but they are also slow, careful. He isn't sloppy; he does precisely what must be done to get you riled. And when he breaks away, his forehead resting against yours, you tug his hair with a pitiful whine.

“I wasn't done,” you tell him.

Joel pouts, mocking. Fingers pull at the straps of your dress until you're watching it pool at your feet. His big hands find your tits immediately, squeezing out all his frustrations, tweaking your nipples and lowering his mouth to your throat.

Your fingers curl into his hair, glueing him to you while he marks your throat, sucking blood to the surface, retribution for the hickeys all over his chest. His warm palms explore your tits the way he likes, and you curve into him, giving him all the access he wants. “Joel, honey—”

Your voice is nectar, warmth from a fire on the Fourth of July, the stomach-cramping laughter around the flame. Joel groans, blindly searching for your hand with his face still nuzzled in your throat, sucking a particularly aggressive bruise that you’ll scold him for later. But he threads his fingers through yours and feels the cool kiss of your twin wedding bands, and your sweet, wispy sighs have him grinding absently against your thigh. You don't have half the mind to get mad at him for a goddamn thing.

He pulls away with a great yank of his self-restraint, still holding your hand. “C’mon, baby.”

You follow dutifully, staring up at your husband with the same moony eyes you gave him on your wedding day. The third stair creaks a bit, the way it always does. The bedroom door is first on the left, and it's a good fucking thing, because Joel can't wait any longer.

He walks you to the edge of the bed, stalking, a predator on prey, focused solely on his task. “Goddamn beautiful,” he says to himself, scanning your mostly-naked body and feeling his eyes droop in arousal.

“Think so?” Your hand drops between your bodies and palms his erection over his jeans. “Yeah, you really think so.”

His nostrils flare. “Sit.”

You lower yourself onto the mattress, primly placing your hands on your thighs and straightening your spine. Joel hums appreciatively, approaching you and slotting himself between your legs. There's a dark wet spot pooling in your panties. “Sweet thing. So needy all fuckin’ day.”

“So were you” is your retort, packing little punch due to the way you push your tits toward him like a fucking whore.

Joel presses his big, warm hand to your sternum. “Remember what you said to me the first time I got you in bed?”

“‘Let’s go again’?”

“The other thing.”

“'Let me suck your dick’?”

“Try again, baby.”

“‘Wrong hole’?”

Joel snorts, shaking his head. “Goddamn smartass,” he mutters. “Told me you wanted me from that first night. Told me you woulda let me fuck you against that bathroom mirror.”

His hand begins to move, rolling your nipple between his fingers like a cigarette, playing with you the way he likes. “Said you’d let me do whatever I wanted,” Joel says quietly, not meeting your eyes, transfixed by the way your body seeks the touch he gives you. “That still true?”

“I meant it then, and I mean it now,” you tell him, pulling your lip between your teeth. “I’m yours, Joel Miller.”

He tilts his head slightly, satisfied. “You got somethin’ you wanna ask me?”

You hook a finger in his belt loop. “Can you get naked now?”

He laughs, guiding your hand to the buckle on his belt. “Go on. Do what you wanna do, baby.”

He belongs to you. He’s yours to mould the way you want.

Your fingers do away with his belt, whipping it out of the loops and hanging it around your neck. Joel’s hands flex at his sides as you toy with the hem of his shirt, bringing it slowly up his torso with your palms flat to his tanned skin.

You imagine you're sculpting him like clay, bringing your hands over the contours and admiring the work when all is done. It’s the artist’s pride of finishing the work and none of the self-reproach when something comes out wrong, because it’s Joel, and wrong becomes negligible.

You bring the shirt over his head with his assistance, lifting his arms for you, tossing the thing aside with little care. His eyes haven't once wavered from you. Next are his jeans, the scrape of his zipper and the delectable anticipation of hooking your fingers in the waistband and guiding them slowly down his hips.

His cock springs forward, thick and heavy and so hard it must ache, as you shuck his jeans down with his boxers. He grunts above you, his cock bobbing at the sight of your pretty lips parting. But you don’t take him into your mouth. You grasp the base of his cock and gently nuzzle your cheek against his length. Something like a strangled whimper leaves his throat.

“Baby,” he chokes.

“Yes, honey?” you say sweetly, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Jesus,” he says through his teeth. “You’re so fuckin' sexy. Fuck.”

You hum, slowly stroking your hand up and down as your tongue darts out to lick his balls. Joel’s hips stutter, his hand flying out to catch himself on the bedpost. “Goddamn. Jesus—”

Your coy smile knocks him askew, your lips pursing as you spit on the head of his cock, spreading your own saliva around the tip with your thumb. “I just wanna thank you”—a soft kiss to the tip has a rumbling groan crawling out of his throat—“for everything you do for me. I just want you to know how much I love you.”

Joel exhales hard, struggling to remember how breathing works when he's got his wife playing with his cock like it's your favourite toy. “How much do you love me?” he demands.

You wrap your fingers around the head of his cock and twist your hand up and down his shaft in a couple slow strokes. You're driving him fucking crazy. His vision is whiting out.

“I love you,” you purr, licking a broad stripe up the underside of his length. Joel’s chest is heaving with the effort of holding back. “Love you so much. Love you enough to make you a daddy.”

Joel caves, threading his fingers through your hair at the nape of your neck and stroking his thumb along your jaw. “Fuck, baby. Please…”

“Do you love me?” Batting your lashes, you scatter measured kisses from his tip to the base, teasingly licking his balls.

“Christ, I—” His hips jut forward instinctively. “I love you. Fuckin’ love you, baby.”

You flick your tongue against his slit and relish his groan, revelling in the sight of his flushed chest, his pink cheeks, the sweat on his brow. His jaw is tense, his nostrils flaring. He’s trying not to take control.

You slap his cock twice on your tongue and finally take it past your lips, sealing your mouth over the head. Joel moans, white-knuckling the bedpost, his other hand now stroking your hair. You fondle his balls in your free hand while the other grips him at the base, and he’s going to come embarrassingly soon if you keep looking up at him this way.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock while your lips seal tight, greedily suckling at his tip. Oversensitive, skin prickling with salty sweat, Joel practically breathes through his teeth. “Gonna kill me,” he manages. “You’re gonna kill me, honey.”

“Mmmm,” you reply, happily taking him deeper, his length sliding along the warm wetness of your tongue. Joel’s fingers tighten in your hair.

“Fuuuuck. You love this cock.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Love takin' me into your mouth like a little slut.”

“Mmmmph,” you agree, pushing your tits out.

His hand drifts down to the belt hanging around your neck and he wraps his fist around both ends, tugging so you’re forced to take him deeper. You splutter, breathing hard through your nose, your arousal dripping onto the mattress.

The sloppy sounds of your mouth working his cock send his head spinning. Drool dribbles from the corners of your lips, your eyes squeezing black tears from dewy lashes. And when you take him down your throat, the sound of your choked moan leaves Joel with little choice but to pull out before he comes.

You whine, squeezing your thighs together. He swipes his thumb underneath your eye and shows you the black smudge from your mascara. “Doesn't take much to get you cryin’. You like me that much?”

You bite your bottom lip and beam up at him. “Did I do okay?”

Your faux-innocence makes his dick twitch in your face, and you flick your tongue out to lick at the tip once more. Joel grunts, grasping his belt and tossing it away.

“‘Did I do okay,’” he murmurs, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “Got no idea after all these years. No idea what you do to me.”

“I just wanna take care of my man. He works so hard, you know, keeping me safe and happy.” You run your hand over his soft belly, the trail of hair that leads down to his cock. “He’s always liked to give me things.”

Joel backs you farther up the bed and crawls over your body, lowering his head to bury his face in your throat. You smell fresh and sweet as vanilla, and when he playfully bites into your skin, your saplike laugh has him grinding helplessly against your thigh.

He loves to give—always has. It’s all he knows. It took a long while for you to get him to unlearn some of his blind selflessness, to let you take control sometimes and care for him instead. Your Joel provides; he does not take. And the prospect of getting to give his wife a baby is turning him to putty in your hands. By the time he gets to work, he’ll be dead-set on his task, hard-pressed to pull out of you. He’ll want to get the job done on his first try, refusing to see you upset if the test comes back negative, but the id will still scratch and claw for another chance to fill you up.

Joel sucks a hickey into your neck and soothes the mark with his tongue, the slow, soft pleasure compounded by the way his warm body covers you, your fingers carding through his locks.

Your voice oozes, honeyed, down his spine. “I love you, Joel.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and crushes his nose in your throat, his hand smoothing down your hair. “I love you.”

“You want to make a baby?”

He rears back slightly, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah. I really fuckin’ do.”

You grin, lacing your fingers together at the back of his neck. “Will you fuck me? Please?”

Joel brushes his thumb across your chin. “Use your words.”

“I want to be a mom, Joel.” You give him a long, gooey stare, eyes warm and soft as running water. A look like that will make a man give you the goddamn galaxy.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. “I know, baby. I’ll help you. Hands and knees, now.”

The gentle direction moulds your body to the shape of the words. You go easily, your back arching as you rest your weight on your forearms and spread your thighs. The bed dips behind you as Joel settles in, his hands grasping your ass and making you jump.

Your body trembles with excitement. You’re going to be a mom. He's going to get you pregnant. You feel dizzy, bending deeper at the hips and shaking your ass at him, deluded with your own arousal.

But Joel doesn't fuck you right away. No, he bumps up against the backs of your thighs, warm hands branding your skin, and rubs two fingers over the wet spot darkening your panties.

“I do this to you?” he says smugly.

“You know damn well—”

“Wanna hear you say it.” The no-nonsense command triggers a submissive response. “Who did this to you?”

Your body melts against him, presenting your pussy to him like a needy whore. “You, Joel. It’s you, baby. Only you.”

Your babbling makes him squeeze handfuls of your ass, spreading your asscheeks apart to get a good glimpse of the way your pussy drools into your panties. Shuffling backward and lowering himself to his knees on the floor, Joel’s tongue darts out and licks you through your underwear.

“Ohh, fuck!” you gasp. “Joel…”

He hums, tasting your tang through the fabric and finding your puffy clit, sucking gently. You cry out, your fingers grasping the sheets, and Joel moves your panties aside to slather his spit all over your dripping pussy. The languorous movements of his tongue are indulgent, achingly slow; he loves the taste of you as much as you enjoy having his mouth on your cunt.

“Oh my God, Joel… fuck, honey, please—!”

Your thighs are trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up, the strokes of his tongue turning your muscles to soup. He stops to take your panties off, guiding them off your legs, and by now, you're so wet that your juices glisten halfway down your thighs. Joel dives back in and licks up the rivulets of arousal from your skin, all the way back up to your weeping hole.

“So goddamn sweet,” he grumbles, kneading your ass in his hands as he flicks his tongue over your clit a few more times.

“Joel, I’m…” You’re drooling, grinding pathetically into his face, already close to an orgasm, and he isn't fucking letting up.

He wants you as wet and needy as possible, his own cock leaking onto the bedsheets at the prospect of sliding into your creamy pussy.

Your cheeks burn and your muscles lock as Joel makes out with your pussy, his tongue laving over your pearl in slow, aching circles. He drowns in the pleasure of making you feel good. He soaks himself in kerosene and lights the match.

“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs shake around his head and your toes curl, ears ringing with the force of your high. Grasping feebly at the bedsheets, you try not to list, but Joel isn’t fucking stopping, cleaning you up with his tongue like you're a piece of goddamn pie.

His fingers dig into your ass, rapacious as his mouth, and you climb high to a space that transcends the sky, feeling nothing but the linen underneath and the man above, softly kissing your poor, used clit.

He doesn’t let up until you reach back and gently shove his head away, grasping his damp curls. “Baby, let me rest,” you gasp, “just for a second.”

Regretfully, he pulls away, pressing a kiss to each knob of your spine, dragging his nose up your back. “‘m so fuckin’ lucky,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Lucky you didn’t kill me.” You laugh breathlessly, your hips already sore from keeping your ass in the air.

“Makin’ sure you’re ready,” he says innocently, sliding his thick fingers through your slit. You gasp, trying to escape his grasp despite yourself. He just clicks his tongue in reproach. “Nuh-uh, baby. You're gonna stay right here, let me make it good for you. Hmm? Wanna feel good?”

You nod your head frantically. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Wanna be good.”

“Mmm, now, you know that ain't your job tonight,” he says in a mock scold. In the meantime, his fingers soak themselves in your wetness. “Don't think you're ready for me yet.”

“No! No, I’m ready,” you pant, grinding against his erection. Joel grunts, holding your hip in place. “Baby, please, I’m ready for you. Need you so badly.”

“Shhh, sweetheart. I'll give you what you need. Just be patient.” Hands smooth over your ass, between your thighs, and then two fingers are teasing your hole. Joel tilts his head to watch the way he spreads your folds wide. “Gonna fill this up.”

A strangled noise spills from your mouth, your cheeks burning hot at the way he exposes you so tenderly. “Please,” you croak, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow.

He grasps himself and teases the already-wet head of his cock over your pussy, spurting precum onto your hole. “You want a baby?” he asks, low and dark. You luxuriate in the velvet-soft tone. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want a baby,” you whisper, “please. Please give me a baby.”

He readies himself at your tight cunt and the excitement briefly overcomes him, forcing his hips forward and pushing past the wet, gummy seal of your pussy. You gasp, held in place by his hand on your hip.

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“I want to make you a daddy!” you sob. “I want to have your baby and make you a daddy.”

“You want to be a momma?” he says through his teeth, tunnel vision narrowing his focus to the way he slowly guides himself into you, wrenching you open. At this angle, with how wet you are, the glide is delicious, white-hot, his balls heavy with the need to empty inside you. “That it? Want everyone to know who put a fuckin’ baby in you?”

Your husband is so fucking big, so strong, and the way he pins your body down feels close to primal. “Yes! Yes, Daddy, yes! I want to be a momma. Please give me a baby.”

The words put a chisel to his self-restraint and crack down. He’s gone, baring his teeth, pulling your hips toward him and impaling you on his cock, relishing the give of your tight walls and the way he sits snug against your cervix. You mewl, reaching back to find a purchase on his hip. “Joel, fuck…”

He establishes a punishing pace, driving your body farther up the bed with every thrust. “That’s it,” he groans, sliding his palm up your spine. “Gonna look so goddamn beautiful with a baby in you. You were fuckin’ made to take this cock.”

Your moan is syrupy and pitched low, your cheek buried in the mattress, letting him fill you up again, again, again—

“I’ll get you fuckin’ pregnant,” continues Joel, panting through his words, sweat beading on his brow as he runs his hands over your skin. “Stuff you so goddamn full you'll always feel me.”

“Uhhh!” you moan, fisting the sheets, your body practically folded in half to accommodate your husband’s huge body, his thick cock.

Joel wants this, too—has for a long time. It’s hard not to notice the little details. He places his hand on your belly when he isn't even paying attention, his lips finding the soft skin there when he first wakes in the morning. You knew he would have dropped everything to give you a baby the second you demanded it, but you realise you may have underestimated his need.

Joel is growling like a dog, sweat dripping from his temples and back pinching with effort as he holds your body close, glueing you to him, his cock reaching deep, deliberate, mind going numb, intent the only tangible feeling he can grasp onto. Intent and the white-hot drag of his cock against your walls.

You’re going to grow swollen and round with his baby. He will watch your tits grow heavy, your belly bulge, your cheeks take on a ruddy, dewy glow, the telltale mark of his success, his devotion. He’ll wake up every morning wrapped in the scent of your body, your hormones, his palm finding sanctuary on your soft, warm belly. He’ll bury his face in your throat and you’ll smile and the sun will warm the golden spot where a new life grows.

Fuck, he’ll never let you do laundry again. You could hurt your back.

Your head spins at the wet slap of his balls against your clit, the obscene squelch of your pussy around his impressive length, the way he grabs at you. He’s greedy, hands mapping each rib, each vertebrae, every curve and contour that makes you.

Your pussy sucks him in, just as needy, breathless moans and squeals punching out of your throat as you croak out pleas: Joel, baby, please. I want a baby so badly. Wanna have your baby. Please, please, fill me up! And Joel listens, his palm sliding around your waist and down your belly, rubbing your sensitive clit with two fingers.

A real man gives his wife everything she wants.

He moans at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him, his fingers wet and insistent against your little clit, coaxing you toward your climax. “C’mon,” he grunts, “come for me, baby. Fuckin’ choke me. Wanna feel it. Come and I’ll give you the baby you want so goddamn bad. C’mon, baby.”

His words seep into your bloodstream, an uncontrollable tremor racking your body, your arms giving out as he bends over you and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. “Ohhhh, God! Oh my—!”

Joel’s hands squeeze your tits, his entire body covering yours, a warm, protective blanket, slick with sweat and heart thundering against your back. His lips are on your skin, feverishly kissing and nipping. You can’t breathe, can’t move, and it feels so fucking good. You soak his cock, muscles seizing, pinned down by his strong body.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans. “That’s it, baby. Goddamn, keep on squeezin’ me like that. Not gonna leave this tight pussy until you're fuckin’ pregnant.”

“Joelllll,” you whine, your orgasm prolonged by his words, his unrelenting thrusts, the jolt of his balls slapping your clit. “Want it so bad. Wanna give you a baby. Come inside me, please. Please give me your cum, oh, God—”

The broken sound of your voice, weak and raspy, goes straight to his dick, and his balls are pulling up, his head bombarded with the smell of sex, perfume, linen, you. He rests his forehead between your shoulder blades as you milk his cock, turning his thrusts sloppy and desperate. He needs to come. He needs to make it real.

Your orgasm leaves you pliant and loose in his arms, and he fondles your tits, squeezing them hard in his hands as he pictures them growing, swelling heavy with milk he’ll feed your baby. His baby. Idly, you moan, letting him use your body to get off, his teeth grazing your neck.

“Gonna come. Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, give you a baby. Gonna—Jesus, goddamn—”

Maybe it's the pent-up frustration of not having come all day. Maybe it's a renewed sense of purpose, knowing he's got a job to do, keeping every drop safe inside you. Maybe it's the sheer fucking excitement of getting to give his wife what he's wanted to put in you for so long. But when he comes, hips flush to your ass, he comes so much, for so long, that the rapid rush of blood from his cock back up to his head has him nearly keeling.

Kissing your cervix, the head of his cock spurts rope after rope of hot cum inside you, and you mewl, your back arching to deepen the angle, luxuriate in the liquid warmth. Joel isn’t so loud now, not so cocky. He’s reduced to strained groans and whimpers as your body depletes him, greedily taking every drop of cum he has to offer.

It feels like minutes before it finally stops, but with your ass up in the air, none of his cum spills out. Your hips are sore, your ass bruises from his hands, your tits still sitting warmly in his hands. The cool kiss of his wedding band soothes the too-hot press of his body on top of yours, your doubly-slick skin meeting indecently. His lips are on the back of your neck and he thrusts shallowly, wringing the last of his cum from the tip until he's wholly empty and bordering on oversensitive.

You're the first to speak, your throat clogged with drool and some of your own tears.

“Thank fuck I was at the bar that night.”

Joel’s laugh scrapes down your spine along with his beard as he drags himself upright, knowing he’s crushing you. “Never would've had to patch me up”

“Mmm, you're sexy when you're mad,” you point out, your thighs twitching as he carefully guides you onto your side, back to his chest, his cock still acting as a plug for his cum. You’re deliciously full, and you hum happily at the feeling of his warm belly against you, his big arms cradling you close.

“Shouldn't enable violence,” he grumbles. His lashes flutter against your shoulder.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please.”

He chuckles. “You feel okay?”

“I feel good,” you muse, running your fingers along his forearm, the prominent veins under his skin. “I feel excited.”

His grin curves against your skin, the scratch of his moustache sending a shiver up your spine. Outside, the sun begins to dip, and your twin golden rings glimmer in the fiery light.

“Me, too,” he whispers, and you lace your fingers through his, squeezing, both of you practically giddy.

There’s a lull, and for a moment, you think he’s fallen asleep. The sun creeps behind a home across the street, and its watch ends for another day.

“Hey, Joel?”

His mouth meets your throat in a sleepy kiss. “Yeah, baby?”

“I like the name Sarah.”

THE END.

tags: @cavillscurls @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cupofjoel @northernbluess @tieronecrush @joelmillers-whore @bastardmandennis - thank you all so so much for showing excitement for this fic!! kisses for you all 🫶

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader

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unknownmads · 4 months

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PRISON TOJII (he’s so addictive🤭) if he’s so bad then why does he look so good? like that’s literally my baby daddy y’all✊🏼😍 i wrote this kinda quick sorry i’ve been so busy y’all

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

the words rang through your eyes having this be the first time you heard his voice, it was deep and rough his ton was teasing you quietly.

Prison Toji who’s eyes track as you reach into your bag grabbing a small notebook and pen. Opening the notebook revealed a page already full of questions you were waiting to ask him. oh how cute you are thinking about him so much just so excited. he’s pulled out of his trance when you finally speak.

“hi toji, i great to finally meet you too” your voice soft at first from your original anxiety about the situation. i mean your just here to meet him for your class nothing more. right? i mean you wouldn’t be here because you love reading his letters telling you how pretty you are. how he wished he could take you out properly. Shamelessly telling you how hard he got to your pictures. but he was just flirting he’s a man in a prison it’s what happens.

Prison toji who finally speaks next the seconds feeling like eternity for him. He doesn’t want to have to sit across a table from you he want you in his lap sitting pretty just how you are now.

“That’s a lot of writing in your lil notebook doll, you been thinkin of me?” this time his tone laced with teasing and smirk displayed on his lips. it draws attention to his scar, you had never asked about it not wanting to push things you shouldn’t.

“where’d you get that scar?” pointing to your own lip as you looked up at him. a small chuckle escapes him surprised at your bluntness.

“well you’re quick to the questions today. you wanna get a closer look at it?” the gawking look one your face giving you away. and with a quick nod you were leaning across the table to get a closer look as he did the same to help you.

Prison Toji who stops you with a noise when your hand reaches up to touch his lip where the scar is

“shit sorry” quietly escapes you as you looked away for a second toji takes this as an opportunity

“you’re okay sweetheart just gonna get us in some trouble if you do that.” his lips next to your ear as his breath brushing against your ear “can’t control myself with a pretty thing like you.”

Prison Toji whose pants grow so much tighter when he sees how flustered you get from such a simple comment. You turn back to face him, his eyes instantly meeting yours challenging you telling you to do it, see how far it goes, see how bad he possibly he, and just like a moth to a flame you do just that. your hand grazing where his scar is going to cup his face, it was all so fast you could barely process it. he forced himself forward slamming his lips to yours. shock took you first then you eased into the kiss and began kissing back. and then you remembered HES A PRISONER AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR SCHOOL.

Prison toji whose ready to snap his cuffs when you pull away. leaning into you as much as he could almost whining when your gone. he sees you shocked and guilt ridden with your finger touching your lips

“whats wrong doll didn’t like it? give me another chance to try again” his body fully leaning to you practically half way over the table.

“im sorry we shouldn’t hav- it wasn’t bad- just we can’t Toji.” your thoughts swirling the world is spinning. Could you get kick out of school? what if someone saw? are there cameras in here? why do i still want to? it’s wrong.

“It’s fine sweetheart no one will know, just you and me i know you want more from the look on your face and the way your sqeezin your thighs. don’t even try to deny it.”

Caught. like the moth to a flame, fly in a trap, he’s got you.

Prison toji whose cock jumps when you slide out of your seat and approach him looking to make sure the guards weren’t watching. unknowing to the fact that tojo already blackmailed both of them to let him have all the privacy he needed with you. the look in your eyes as you approached was pure lust and need for him.

“your sure we’ll be fine right?” you say as you lean down towards him

“im positive doll i made sure of it.”

Prison Toji who finally snaps his cuffs unable to take anymore. grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap his face clashing with your the kiss is sloppy and full of need. a small sound escaping as he deepens the kiss.

“i’ve been dreaming of this.”

TAGS: @altgojo @nanmiik @kouyoumarryme @imaslothandsowhat @dragonmaiden79 @sircatchungus

SOME OF YALL DIDNT SHOW UP WHEN I SEARCHED IM SO SORRY😭

#feral #jjk toji #i love terrible men #i need him #inmate toji #jjk #jujutsu toji #prison toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #dilf toji #oldermen #older toji

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togenabi · 6 months

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pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing.

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed.

“Because they were overbored!”

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes.

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince.

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group.

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze.

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure.

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him.

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards.

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink.

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.”

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you.

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.”

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit.

“I’d like that.”

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.”

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion.

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart.

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans.

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now.

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.”

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did.

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else...

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders.

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing.

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter.

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise.

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

taglist: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @hi3431 @akakaze @lownna

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 months

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What I'd Do For You - LN

Summary: Y/n has got into the habit of helping Lando shave. Then he makes a very weird request to return the favour.

I have Lando brain rot after watching a bunch of his vlogs so...lol.

Themes: Lando being a little weirdo

Y/n bites her lip in focus sitting on the bathroom counter, carefully move the razor while Lando watches her trying not to smirk. He's been told off one too many times for moving when she's got a blade to his face.

He's actually in the process of mentally building up the courage after y/n earlier stated she was due for a full body shower and that he couldn't join her because there is nothing sexy about it and she doesn't not need an audience.

"Ok, mr clean-shave is back." Y/n smiles before kissing him softly as she gently whips his face clean. "I'm getting pretty good at this. Think that's the cleanest shave I've done for you."

"Thank you, baby." Lando grins, flashing his dimples before going full attack in giving her a million and ten kisses, all over her face.

"Alright, you go keep yourself-"

"I want to shave something for you." Lando rushes out, actually so quickly that even he isn't sure if he really formed proper words.

"You what?" Y/n frowns making him grin at her.

"Can I shave something for you?"

Y/n pulls a face seeming to know exactly what her boyfriend is asking and is not eager to say yes about it. No doubt in her mind, he's not about to ask to shave her legs.

"You want to shave my vagina, don't you?" Y/n sighs in defeat while Lando perks up in excitement. Apparently not reading her tone of voice at all. "Lando...why?"

"Because I want to try."

"It's not as simple as shaving your face, you realise that right?"

"Please, baby? If I cut you I promise you can slap me."

Y/n groans a little not at all looking forward to this experience.

"Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Yeah, um giving head is a little different to taking a sharp blade down there."

"You can say no."

Y/n looks at him for a moment hesitant in her decision.

"But please?" Lando smiles with a quick pout stealing a kiss.

"This stays between us."

"I promise." Lando nods looking so excited that she can't help but smile at him for a it. "Ok, good."

Y/n puffs out a breath trying to figure out how she's meant to talk him through shaving, it's not something someone taught her. She just did it one day and thankfully hasn't taken any permanent chunks out of her flesh.

"Wait-" Y/n panics grabbing his wrist when he just picks up the razor, not even bringing it close to her. "Ok, wait. I just...I want to make sure it's a good position for you but also so I can just see what you're doing."

"Baby, you can trust me. I know this particular part of your body probably better than you do by this point." Lando states earning a deadpanned expression from the young woman. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, but that is...a very precious body part and easily damaged."

Lando smirks at that before nodding then kissing her softly. After a few huffs and puffs, managing the initial bikini line, he shakes his head.

"Can we lie you down? I don't trust myself at this angle." Lando states earning a look making him manage a reassuring smile. "I haven't cut you so far."

"I know." Y/n murmurs as she shifts to lie down on the counter. "This just feels so weird."

"On the bright side you know if you ever can't do it, like if you get surgery or pregnant. I can do it for you." Lando grins making her lean up onto her elbows looking at him. "Lie down and trust me."

"So easy for you to say that skin is fragile." Y/n pouts as she obediently lies back down.

It takes every ounce of self-control she has to not twitch and flinch away from every glide of the blade. If she moves there's no doubt Lando will slide her open. Or at least that's her fear right now and she feels like it's fairly valid fear to have given her position.

"You need to stop stressing out, baby." Lando laughs while she grumbles at him. "I'm done."

"You're done."

"Yeah, haven't missed a spot. Probably the cleanest shave of your live because I can actually see what I'm doing-and more importantly no blood." Lando grins proudly though she feels him poke around seemingly checking that he didn't miss any stray patches that he might've been more careful with. "You're like a hairless cat."

"A hairless cat?" Y/n frowns while sitting up.

"A bald pussy." Lando grins, laughing when she scoffs nudging him away and trying to hide her own amusement over his joke. "Would you trust me to do it again?"

Y/n sits up and pauses looking at him for a moment.

"You would! I knew it. I knew you would." Lando smirks, cheering as he kisses her cheek. "I'm not saying every time."

"Just went you're feeling bored or adventurous?"

"Yeah maybe." Lando shrugs then rubbing her thighs. "Wasn't so bad, you have to admit."

"Ok, it wasn't so bad. But the only way you're doing it again is if I'm after surgery or during pregnancy." Y/n states earning a smile from her boyfriend who seems almost like an excited puppy about this. "Such a weirdo."

"I just like getting to do new things with you. This was fun."

"Sometimes you really make me wonder how you brain works."

"Come on, you need to get dressed. We're going to go out on a date." Lando grins making her hum before he kisses her softly.

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cursingtoji · 5 months

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ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?

— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji

gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)

“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.

the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.

“but if you keep doing that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.

“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”

“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.

“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.

“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”

“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”

gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.

“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t you?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”

gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used that honorific with.

“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“

“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“

“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.

“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.

“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.

he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.

“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”

“that’s rude, toji is—“

“did you think you could change him or something?”

“i— no, why—“

“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.

“gojo, i swear—“

“was it the sex?”

you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.

“jackpot” satoru whispers.

“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.

“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.

“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”

“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.

“you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.

gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.

“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”

“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.

“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”

“no!”

“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.

“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.

“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just wait for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.

“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.

“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.

“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.

“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.

“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”

“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.

“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”

“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.

“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.

“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.

satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.

“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.

“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.

“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.

“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.

“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”

satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.

he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.

he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—

“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.

“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”

“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.

which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.

when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.

“desk, now” you demand needly.

“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.

you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.

you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.

“ask me” he pleads.

“for what?”

“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.

“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.

gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.

the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.

“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.

“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.

“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.

“unbelievable…”

“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.

“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.

he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.

his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.

“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.

the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.

or was it something else you feared?

“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.

“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”

“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.

“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.

“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.

“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.

“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.

“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.

“you’re not… on anything?”

“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”

“go on” gojo massages your thigh.

“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.

satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.

“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.

all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.

the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.

“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.

he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.

“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.

he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.

“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.

you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.

“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.

you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.

“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.

he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.

god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

if only…

“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.

after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”

“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.

“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.

you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”

“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.

gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.

a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.

gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.

“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.

gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.

“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.

on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.

“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”

“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.

“about… us? of course not.”

“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.

“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”

“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”

“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.

“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”

“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.

“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.

before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.

satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.

he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.

#there’s no part 2 leave me alone #divider by @cafekitsune #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader

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swiftispunk · 4 months

Text

another time, baby | joel miller x f!reader

a your summer dream bonus chapter

your summer dream masterlist | main masterlist | kofi | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates

pairing: dad's buddy!joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 3.4k summary: joel makes good on a promise. warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK] established relationship, porn no plot, smut, age gap (28/50), unprotected anal sex, vaginal fingering, use of a butt plug, joel miller eats ass and pussy and also has a big dick, some affectionate spanking, creampie, cum play (eating and sharing), a little bit of spit, just a lot of bodily fluids all around, one (1) poetic description of a queef, joel miller's filthy mouth, pet names, ysd!joel at his most soft dom, joel's also kind of feral in this, multiple orgasms, sweet sweet aftercare, pov swap. no use of y/n.

a/n: you can all thank @gasolinerainbowpuddles for this one ya'll. but in all seriousness, your summer dream was my favourite part of this year. so what better way to send it off than with a horny little one shot for my favourite little freaks? and for anyone who hasn't read the series, i am stoked to tell you that you can absolutely enjoy this fic as a standalone. for those of you who have the read series, this takes place between the fall and winter seasons and you may find one teeny tiny little plot nugget in here which i hope you will appreciate. happy new year everyone!

"Oh, fuck, that's pretty."

His voice a low rasp, all hushed and adoring, he may as well be talking to himself at this point. You are somewhere far away. A pliant, whining, perfect thing slung over his lap, your soft skin glistens with lube around the transparent plug in your ass. Seeing you like this, Joel allows himself to think the worst–that you're his and no one else's, that only he can make you like this, only he gets to know this part of you.

"Please, Joel, please," you'd cried when his tongue had dipped from your pussy to your other hole earlier this week. Your fingers clawing at fistfuls of his hair, he'd known by the desperate edge in your voice, the patience there waning, you were finally going to ask.

"What, baby? What do you want?"

You'd seized and moaned and shaken your head, afraid to say it, confess it.

Till he'd slipped one thick finger into your asshole, taunting you with a plea of his own as he'd slowly fucked you with it: "Tell me. Tell me, baby. Say it. Tell me what you want."

"Please fuck my ass, Joel! Please–"

And as his lips had closed around your clit with his finger still buried in your ass, you'd come apart for him with blinding force. Joel, for his part, had spilled onto the sheets beneath him and in the haze of the afterglow, he'd kissed your inner thighs and made a solemn vow.

That he'll give you what you need–but he's gonna do it right.

Now you've stopped begging, reduced to little more than breathless whimpers under his touch while you let him ready you.

He cages your naked body under his, fingers spread wide over the globe of your ass, pinching and grabbing and slapping at the plush flesh there. Your poor, dripping cunt flutters around nothing and Joel can't help himself–he's a weak man; he takes pity on you.

"Feelin' empty, baby?" he muses, slipping a hand between your thighs to caress your folds, soaking with lube and your last release. He gazes down at you in wonder when you twitch violently at the contact, your ass jiggling around the end of the plug.

He's so goddamn lucky.

You make some muffled sound against the mattress and Joel's other hand comes down on your ass cheek in response. His lips twitch, chest and cock swelling with something like pride when you recognize it for the reminder it is, immediately pulling your face up off the sheets to answer him properly.

"Mm-mm," you croak and Joel can tell you're struggling to get the words out, your loose form spasming across his thighs whenever his fingers brush over your sensitive clit. "Feel so–full, Joel."

"Yeah?" he murmurs gruffly, still lazily petting your sex. "You like havin' your ass all stuffed, sweetheart? This what you wanted?"

"Want–more, Joel. Please fuck me."

But there's no strength behind the words, no genuine intention behind the plea because you know; this had been the deal. He'll give you this–and god, does he want to give you this–but he's not going to rush it and he's not going to hurt you. He's well aware of his size and he's well aware of your less-than-savoury experiences with men before him and he will not subject you to that. He'll spend all night prepping you if that's what it takes.

Plus, he's having fun.

"Gonna feel a lot more full with my cock inside ya, baby," he hums, sinking his thumb into your wet heat, reveling in the way you push back into him with a breathy little moan. "You think you can take it?"

Your answer gets caught in your throat as he begins to fuck his thumb in and out of your weeping pussy, his fingers circling over your clit, buried between the soft meat of your thighs.

His lip curls in concentration, ravenous at the soft squelching sounds of your cunt and the choked, little whimpers spilling from your open mouth. Just one more time, he thinks–he just wants to watch you come one more time.

"Look at you, huh?" he marvels as he switches gears, using one large palm to spread you open and push his middle and ring fingers into your cunt instead, curling and scissoring them inside you till he swears he can feel the plug taking up your ass. "Look at you with both your little holes all full for me. Bet you could take two cocks f'you wanted. Ain't that right, babygirl?"

Something about that thought makes you gasp, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing your g-spot before you're coming again, a small gush of liquid pouring down his knuckles as you pulse around him with a broken cry.

"Oh, fuck, yeah," Joel hisses through his teeth as the waves of wash over you, awestruck and mesmerized at the way you shudder and squirm in his lap. You're all his. It's all for him. You fall apart like this for him. "There's my good girl."

You go limp when it ends, a delicious noise of gaping emptiness escaping your pussy when he slowly retracts his fingers. He sucks them clean, sighing at the taste of you, and decides he's done enough.

"C'mere," he growls softly, manhandling you carefully off his lap and collecting your knees beneath you. You go like a ragdoll, folding in on yourself with your ass in the air for him, chest pressed into your thighs. He crouches beside you, trailing a hand up your spine to rest it at the nape of your neck, massaging the other over the rounded peaks of your ass.

"You ready, sweetheart?" he whispers, tracing his fingers around the edges of the plug. "Gonna take this out now."

"Oh, fuck," you whimper into the sheets, your voice all cracked and oozing anticipation. Your ribs expand and contract with each ragged breath you take and even Joel isn't sure he can wait much longer.

He leans over your body, sinks his teeth into the meat of your ass, buries his nose into your skin and makes himself at home there. He stakes his claim with little indents into your flesh and yearns to mark you elsewhere–everywhere.

"Let me hear you say it," he insists.

"I'm ready, Joel. Please."

He shifts to hover over you, cradling your body under one arm while he curls his fingers around the end of the plug.

"Relax for me now," he murmurs and even though you're already gooey and gone, you find a way to obey him. Your muscles slacken and you melt impossibly deeper into the mattress, waiting.

"Good girl," he tells you and he's never meant it more than he does right now.

With patient care, he slips the plug past that tight ring of muscle, watching you stretch around the thickest part of the toy, groaning with you when he pushes it back inside. He repeats that motion, mesmerized at the slide of the plug moving in and out of the constricting fist of your asshole. You take it so fucking well. You're gonna take his cock so fucking well.

It's all he can think about as he finally pulls the plug out of you entirely, cursing under his breath when your hole stays open for him, stretched out and lax, still so enticingly tight. He tosses it aside, hungry eyes fixed on your opening, locked in on it like a missile acquiring its target.

"Jesus Christ," he groans, feeling slightly crazed as he crowds the space behind you, hastily searching for the bottle of lube, abandoned somewhere on the mattress. He coats his length in it, stroking himself with one hand while the other spreads you open, one thick finger dipping into the inviting warmth of your asshole. "You gonna let me fuck you here, baby? This where you want me?"

"Yes," you whine and Joel's cock twitches in his grasp as you start to fuck yourself on his finger in shallow little thrusts, as if to prove your point. Fucking hell. He's never seen you so needy as long as he's known you and it stirs something carnal in him.

"Alright, baby, okay," he hums, sliding his finger free from your hole to grip your side and still your movements. His cock is slippery and your skin is shiny with excess lube but he wants to be sure, overly thorough. He rakes his fingers through the seam of your cunt, collecting come and lube and slick, and coats your other hole in it. And just because he wants to see it, he lets a string of his of spit fall there too, rubbing his own fluids in with yours, over the sacred place he's about to fuck you.

He thinks you look fucking perfect together. He thinks he might be in love with you.

He presses closer, notching the tip of his cock at your entrance. You reach back to grip the wrist of the hand he's got glued to your side and Joel's heart pangs. He can't tell if the way you squeeze his arm is a sign of nerves or eagerness or the same painful desperation he feels to be as attached to you as possible in every conceivable way. Frankly, he's too delirious with desire to even ask, just gives you what he thinks you always need, what he thinks he's best at giving you–

"You're okay, baby," he assures you. "Just relax, I got you. M'gonna make it feel good, okay? Gonna make it feel so fuckin' good for you."

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, a high-pitched moan pouring from your lips as you nod against the sheets.

You trust him–of course you do.

And you want this, want him to fill the deepest corners of your body, to take up every vacant space inside you and make you his, over and over in every which way. Joel's unwavering control seems to fade as he lines himself up with your hole, his breaths coming shorter and less even, sucked through his teeth like some voracious animal. Your pussy clenches in an unconscious way, like your body still hasn't realized that's not where he's going.

It quickly becomes clear.

Because then he's pushing forward, the head of his cock slipping past your puckered rim and it's like he stops breathing altogether, the flow of air from his lungs choking off into a strangled moan. You echo that sound, twist your free hand into the sheets and whine at the intrusion, the stretch and strain almost dizzying.

"Oh–fuck–shit," he's rambling, stilling where he is to let you adjust–though you're wondering now if such a thing is even possible. "Fuck me, that's so fuckin' tight."

You can feel your breathing shallow, hear the distant sound of your own voice leaving you in the form of weak and whimpered nothings.

Joel takes a deep breath.

"Talk to me," he grits out. "Tell me how it feels."

You rack your brain but you can't find the words.

"You're so-you're so fucking big, Joel."

He growls, a sound buried low in his chest, deep and guttural. "Tell me how it feels," he repeats.

"Fuck–good," you cry, and you think it's true. The stretch, the ache, the fullness, the elation that it's him finally giving you what he'd promised you so many months ago; yes, it feels good. It feels perfect. "More. Please. I can take more."

"Fuck, yeah, you can," Joel groans, sinking deeper, still at a sedulous pace, till you feel his hips meet your ass and he bottoms out completely.

"Shit," Joel marvels, pausing once again with his length buried to the hilt in your ass, voice thick with adoration. "Feel fuckin'–so perfect, baby. Fuck, you look so good like this. Takin' it so well."

He experimentally rocks his hips and you feel yourself stretch open for him, the way your body accepts his girth and makes such willing space for him. It's fucking…otherworldly how big he feels inside you, the pleasant aching sensation of fullness unlike anything you've ever felt before. Your uneven breaths harmonize with his, breaking off into a groan of appreciation when he finally pulls out halfway just to push back in.

He fucks you like that for what feels like hours; slow, patient drags of his cock in and out of your hole while his hands rake over your skin in appreciative sweeping patterns. His words from before echo in your pleasure-drunk mind–"Bet you could take two cocks f'you wanted"–and while you can't say you've ever thought about that, the suggestion festers and consumes, so much so that you reach a hand between your legs to slip three fingers into your pussy and imagine how it would feel if they were something else.

"Oh, yeah, honey?" Joel croons when he notices, the pace of his thrusts picking up. "That feel good? You wanna be all filled up, don't you?"

You whine in response, burying your fingers deeper, meeting his thrusts with a steady rock of your hips back into him.

"C'mere," he's suddenly saying again, carefully pulling his cock free from the tight clench of your ass. Then he's maneuvering you onto your back and placing your arms by the side of your head. He hooks his hands beneath your knees and hoists them up to your chest before settling back between your legs. He takes a moment there, gawking at your naked front and your gaping hole, watching your face as he presses his palm over your mound and strums his thumb over your clit.

And, god, he looks wrecked–wild. You can't imagine what he's seeing reflected back at him in your eyes.

Fuck, you already miss him inside you.

"Joel," you press him, tilting your hips upwards a little higher in a silent plea.

He grants it without question, maintaining the steady ministrations of his thumb on your clit as he once again lines himself up with your asshole.

"You perfect fuckin' thing," he murmurs, his mouth falling open as he pushes back inside, his eyes never leaving your face. "You love it, huh? Love this big cock in this tight little ass. Yeah?"

His voice strains around the words as he begins to move again, faster and harder than before. You nod at him frantically–tell him yesyesyes–then you forget how to speak altogether as he eases his thumb into your cunt and fucks you with it in tandem with the drag of his cock in your ass.

"There you go," Joel hums. "My girl's all full of me now."

It's overwhelming, a mind-numbing sort of satiation that has your eyes rolling back into your skull as you dissolve into a mess of wanton moans and broken sobs. You're too far gone to even feel surprised when another climax crashes into you, wetness pooling around Joel's thumb and trickling down to the place your bodies are connected.

"Fuck, Joel, oh my god–"

Your voice shakes as you quiver under him, sparks of heat cascading down your spine. Joel's heady grunting is buried under your own cries of ecstasy and then you're conscious of his hands are on the backs of your thighs, holding you open as he begins to fuck you with abandon, chasing chasing chasing.

"Eyes," you hear him growl urgently. "You look at me when I come in your ass, baby."

Your eyelids snap open at once–and the sight of him takes your breath away.

His brows are furrowed in concentration, hot breaths coming in heavy pants through his bared teeth. Sweat dampens his forehead and shines on his chest and shoulders, the expanse of skin there dotted with splotches of pink. His soft belly flexes and falls as he pounds into you and you don't think you've ever seen his brown eyes look so black.

He's so fucking beautiful. He's all yours.

"Come for me, Joel," you beseech him, reaching out to touch your hands to his chest. "Please. Please come in my ass."

It doesn't take much more than that, Joel's hips stuttering as he groans out a chorus of expletives and paints your insides with his release. He comes hard, his final thrusts almost bruising against your ass as he fucks his spend deeper, filling you to the brim. You can feel everything–the way his cock spasms inside you, the soft press of his balls against your sticky skin, the wet drag of his length slowly slipping out of you the minute you've both caught your breath.

You reach out to touch his face, but Joel is not looking at you. Joel is transfixed on your leaking asshole, crouching back to watch his come drip from you, his big hands on your thighs still spreading you wide for him.

He looks…overcome–trancelike as he dives forward without a word to bury his face between your cheeks. You gasp as his tongue laps at your pulsing hole, collecting fat drops of escaping come and it occurs to you then what he's doing. Your hands fist into his curls and you yank him up to kiss you, his lips crashing into yours as hot, salty release pours from his open mouth into yours.

You swallow it eagerly, moaning against his lips as his body weight comes down on top of you. You wrap your legs around his middle and for a good long while, you stay like that, letting your tongue lazily dance with his in a kiss that's all gratitude and quiet devotion.

As the fog of orgasm fades, your lips come apart. Joel rolls onto his side and pulls you into his chest, pets your hair and presses soft kisses across your shoulders.

"You alright, baby?" he asks, clutching the sides of your face in his gentle hands and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. The blackness there is gone, replaced by tender warmth.

You think about it. You are alright. You're sleepy, though. Sleepy and sore. And fucking…messy.

"I'm okay," you tell him, feeling the corners of your mouth turn up in a smile. Joel mirrors it, his thumbs stroking lightly over your cheekbones.

"Did so fuckin' good for me," he breathes. His forehead collides with yours as he exhales something that sounds like a laugh. "I mean, that–that was so goddamn hot."

"It was," you agree. "Thank you, Joel."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he amends, ducking forward to plant another fleeting kiss against your lips. "M'gonna get a shower goin', alright? Get you all cleaned up? How's'at sound?"

"Sounds good," you smile dreamily.

He looks like he wants to say something else, lingering there with his face just inches from yours, soft eyes scanning your features like he's searching for something. You think you know the words he's holding back–think you could say them too right now–but you don't, and neither does he. Instead, he sighs and kisses your forehead, finally rising up out of bed to stride towards the ensuite. You let your eyes slip shut at the sound of running water, imagining it's a falling stream in a lush, tropical forest. You sigh.

It strikes you, in moments like these, how in the hell you ended up here. In Joel Miller's bed with his come leaking out of your ass, your heart so full it feels like it could burst right out of your chest without warning.

You think maybe it should scare you, but it doesn't anymore. Because then Joel is sauntering back into the room and extending a solid arm out to you, hoisting you upright with all the care and attention you've come to expect from him. His embrace is so familiar it may as well be your second home at this point. And it kind of is. And it's kind of perfect.

And you're kind of in love with him–but you don't tell him that yet.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #vacation!joel #joel miller one shot #your summer dream #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

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crvptidgf · 7 months

Text

Read For Me

Mattheo Riddle x Reader (smut)

➸ summary: Mattheo finds the perfect way to help the reader relax after a tough day

➸ warnings/notes: sexual content ahead! 18+ ONLY, viewer discretion is advised. TAGS: fingering, slight praise kink, heavy petting, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

➸ requested?: yes ↴

- soft smut where she’s reading in his lap while he’s leaning against the bedpost holding the book and turning the pages while she keeps reading it

word count: 1.1k

————————

YOU HAD BEEN quite stressed the whole day. Nothing seemed to go your way, and when you finally finished your lectures for the day, all you wanted to do was just curl up with your boyfriend on the bed.

That’s where you were currently.

Your back was pressed against his chest as he held up the book you were reading with one hand. The other one was rested against your abdomen as you read aloud, turning the page whenever it was needed.

At some point your eyes drifted away from the book and was instead focused on the way Mattheo’s arms looked under this lighting.

His veins were incredibly pronounced, thanks to the table lamp causing shadows to occur all over his skin. The way his arms flexed when he gripped the book just a little tighter made your stomach flutter, and you tried to ignore his beautiful fingers toying with your stomach.

You looked away, not even noticing that Mattheo had went silent, the book almost completely left off to the side.

“You okay?” he muttered into you ear.

Everything he did was setting your stomach ablaze right now. It didn’t help that his fingers flexed against your tummy as he drew shapes alongside the flesh.

“Mhm,” you said as you nodded, hoping he just ignored you and picked the book back up. You were seriously trying your hardest to not pay attention to how good his arms looked laying at his sides - or in general, really.

Mattheo bit back a smile as he noticed your eyes briefly flicker to his hand that was resting against you. He definitely did not miss the slight movements in your eyes, paying attention to the way your mouth seemed to dry up with every gulp you took.

“Are we still stressed?” he asked, already knowing that’s not what the problem was.

You just nodded. Honestly, you weren’t too sure what he really said. Your eyes were too focused on the way his fingers felt as if they were moving lower down onto your abdomen, slowly reaching the waistband of your shorts. He merely toyed with the elastic, his fingertips never reaching further than your pelvis.

Vibrations rumbled against your back as he chuckled. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?”

Mattheo moved his hand away from your lower half in order to wrap around your waist tightly, holding you close. His other one picked the book back up, lifting it towards your face.

You had no idea what he was doing, and you had no intention of finding out - your mind was still fuzzy from the immense heat that was pooling between your legs from your boyfriend’s previous actions.

“Keep reading,” came his voice suddenly.

He noticed the curious look in your eyes as he strained his neck to face you. “You’re stressed. Reading helps you relax, no?”

“Yeah…?” you were still confused.

Mattheo loosened his grip on your torso to resume messing around with your waistband.

“Read for me,” he mumbled against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You watched as the muscles in his forearm contracted while he kept the book at your eye level. Starting from the top of the page you began to read out loud, trying to stop your voice from cracking whenever Mattheo’s fingers trailed lower than expected. Every single movement caused goosebumps to form all over - your arms, legs, stomach. Your body was buzzing with excitement.

Continuing your pace, you kept reading out the words on the page no matter how uneven your breathing became. You knew better than to ignore Mattheo’s commands.

“You’re doing great, keep going,” whispered Mattheo.

Just as you were about to continue, you were interrupted by your own gasp as his hand made it’s way into your shorts. The only problem was that he didn’t move it - not one bit. He rested it on top of you, cupping your heat.

The veins in his hand twitched as he gently shook the book. “You stop, I stop.”

You let out a strangled groan before starting again.

“They attacked hi- him in various ways….” you quoted before taking a deep breath upon feeling the friction against your panties, Mattheo’s palm giving you just the pressure you needed.

“With...- with barefaced questions-“ you briefly stopped reading only to whimper his name.

His hand carefully pulled your underwear to the side, fingers teasing at your entrance. He moved them up to part your lips, gathering your arousal before he suddenly dipped into you, earning a breathy moan from the back of your throat.

Fingers gently, slowly, curling, he began to nip at your neck before he spoke up. “I thought I told you to keep reading?” he said.

“S-sorry.”

You felt him all around you. His gorgeous arm that was looped around your chest, holding your book up; his mouth which left wet open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder and neck, lightly sucking and biting whenever he could. And, oh, his skilled fingers which were now moving in and out of you at a dreadfully slow pace.

Your stomach felt as if it was twisted in knots, but you kept reading nonetheless, to which Mattheo begun praising. “So good for me,” he whispered.

His thumb now entered the mix, begin to rub lazy circles on your clit.

Reveling in how shaky your voice sounded, he urged you to increase up your volume. He wanted to hear you fall apart - and what better way to do that then have you read louder for him?

“Be a good girl and speak up. I can’t hear you,” he had said.

Your head was now thrown back onto his shoulder, the coil in your stomach building up very fast. You could still somewhat make out the words on the page, but your vision had began to blur, and your moans were becoming too frequent for you to be able to continue.

“Please, Mattheo, I can’t,” you whined.

Tears brimmed at the edge of your eyes, your cheeks flushing with the heat of the room. Mattheo nudged his shoulder upwards so that you were supporting your own head once more. Your eyes landed on the book again. “Yes you can,” he encouraged.

His lips landed on your cheek, peppering soft pecks wherever his mouth landed.

It wasn’t much longer before you erupted into a series of tremors, your voice chanting his name as he helped you ride out your high. In all honesty, you were going to have to read that chapter again - you weren’t sure if you retained any information.

Mattheo rested the book on your nightstand, both of his arms now hugging you close to his chest. His chin nestled into your shoulder. “How do you feel now?”

You smilled up at him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. “Much better, baby.”

“Good,” he said, kissing your forehead.

Leave it to Mattheo to de-stress you on your worst days.

- - -

A/N: this was my first time doing smut i’m so sorry

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle drabble #mattheo riddle headcanon #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #harry potter fancast #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #mattheo x reader

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mochie85 · 4 months

Text

Blue Christmas

One-Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist | Secret Santa Masterlist

Summary: You ask Loki to give you something special for Christmas. A/N: This is a Secret Santa gift for @divine-knight-hand. I wanted to give you everything you requested, my love, but I already wrote something similar a while ago. For the sake of not sounding repetitive, I altered your request just a little bit. I hope you still like it. However, please check out the other story because it checks off all your points! And is Christmas-themed! Mayari: If You Let Me. Also, sorry for the cringy title. I couldn't think of anything else. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 2.7k Warnings: Explicit. Smut. P in V. Jotunn Loki (yes, cuz he's a whole warning!)

You crossed your legs as the last rays of the sun were trickling down on your body. Your book was discarded on the ground as the condensation from your Pina Colada dripped down onto the side table.

Loki had surprised you and whisked you away to the Fiji Islands for Christmas— no more crowded New York streets. No more dirty ice falling onto you from the splash of an oncoming taxicab. And certainly, no more missions and assignments till the New Year.

It had been an exhaustive nineteen-hour flight. Especially since he didn’t tell you anything he was planning. When you came home to your room earlier that day, you were greeted by Loki with two suitcases on either side of him.

“Merry Yuletide, Darling,” he said as he rolled your luggage over to you and kissed you on your lips in greeting.

“Loki- what?”

“No time to explain, we need to leave now in order to catch our flight,” he said ushering you out the door by patting you on the bum. You jumped up with giddiness, planting a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek. He was always surprising you with little trinkets and excursions.

“Thank you, sir,” you said in a deep voice.

“Ooh, you dangerous nymph. Go on. I need my wits about me till we get on the plane. I can’t have you distracting me.”

“Then, after?” you asked luring him to a sinful promise.

“After,” he promised in the same breathy tone.

That was two days ago. Loki had kept his promise, and then some- inducting you both into the mile-high club several times over.

Now, here you were in a private villa surrounded by an infinity pool that stretched towards the Pacific, watching your godly boyfriend come out of the water. He ran his hands through his hair, combing the droplets from his tresses. Beads fell down the defined lines of his muscles causing you to heat up in the already balmy weather.

The sight of Loki, wet and in nothing but short swim trunks, was enough to make you convulse. You were sure that if Michelangelo had a model for David, it would’ve been Loki. And knowing Loki, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was him.

He came up to you, lounging on your chair, and shook his wet hair in front of you to tease you. “St-stop!” you laughed as you playfully pushed him before you got completely wet.

“Awe, come on, Darling. I thought you liked me wet?” he charmed as he sat next to you and leaned in for a kiss.

“I have to admit, it is kind of refreshing.” You said as your hands guided themselves around his slick body. “It’s so hot here. I might need something to cool me down,” you tempted.

There was a flash of understanding in his face. Nights of hedonistic pleasure and anticipation of his moods taught you how to read him. If you weren’t so attuned to him- so zealously infatuated with him and his praise over you, you would have missed it. But you didn’t.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing. I just-” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words. “There was a reason why I chose Fiji.”

“You mean, the beautiful waters and sandy beaches weren’t enough of a reason?” you joked.

“It’s in the southern hemisphere. Which means that it’s summer here whilst still cold and winter back home.”

“Why would the season be an issue?”

“Contingency.”

“Contingency, for what?” you asked confused.

“It was about what you wanted for Christmas,” he answered slowly. Confusion still clouding your memory. Little bits and pieces of a long-forgotten conversation nipped at your mind as you tried to piece together what you had asked him to give you.

As if to remind you, Loki raised his hand and cupped your face. As he did so, his fingers turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was fair, yet sharp. It reminded you of the color of blue thistles on a cold afternoon.

As he touched your cheek, a shiver ran down your skin making you shudder for the first time since you arrived. Realization struck you as you remembered the conversation you two had a month ago.

“I think I know what I want for Christmas,” you lured him in. “And what is that, my Darling?” Loki said absentmindedly while looking through his mission briefing. “You." “You already have me,” he scoffed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I meant…all of you…the other you…” you trailed silently. Loki looked at you bewildered. There were many nights he had dreamt of taking you in his other form, wondering how you would react to him. He’s postponed showing you this long because he was afraid of his feral nature. He would be at the mercy of his urges and base needs. Loki wasn’t quite sure how to ease you into that new situation. Would he be too much for you? Knowing your adventurous spirit, you wouldn’t mind having his beastly side take you. “Why, you little nymph. Now, why would you want to see that side of me, hmm?”

Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Loki, I-” you started, but he quickly put a finger to your lips to quiet you.

“I want this, Darling. And I want it with you. So, if at any point in time, you want to stop, you know our safe word.” You nodded your head enthusiastically and Loki chuckled. “But I should let you know, that…there was a reason why I’ve waited this long to show you. I become somewhat different when I change. Jotunns, in their very nature, are severe. Harsher. They have to be, to live in the climate they do, and survive.”

You sat there, fervently hanging onto every word Loki was saying. “We relied upon each other for strength, for warmth, basic needs…” Loki trailed off, tracing your lower lip with his cold finger. “You can imagine the creativity we had in finding ways to keep our blood warm and stave off the frigid climate.” You nodded solemnly at his words as if they were gospel.

“If we do this, I need you to be in control. Do you understand me, Darling?” he asked, inching closer to you. You felt a shiver run down your body. You focused on his eyes as his lips weaved a spell for you to follow. “I won’t know how much is too much. How rough is too rough.”

Loki grabbed your hips and sat you on his lap. The sudden move made you yelp into his arms. “Sorry, my dear. You see, I’m already too excited. My body is reacting to you.” He ran his nose up and down your neck. His cold hands encircled your back, caging you on top of him. “I’ve wanted to take you like this for so long.” His hands entwined themselves with your hair and pulled as his lips met yours in a crushing kiss.

You held on tightly, with your legs wrapped around his waist, as Loki stood up and walked both of you to the edge of your bed. When he broke the kiss, you heard him moan before he continued to suck a bruise onto your neck.

You felt his body change. The hairs atop your skin began to stand as the temperature began to drop. The once-sweltering heat that prickled your skin was replaced by the cool tingles of his touch. It surrounded you and enveloped you in a cold caress. You finally understood the need for a warmer climate. With a slight force, he released you from him, falling onto the soft mattress below.

That was when you had your first glimpse of his true self. The beautiful shade of blue you had seen earlier spread throughout his body. His form was somehow sharper, more jagged. Yet still soft and giving. He had markings defined by fine lines and grooves. They traced over his muscles and sinew, highlighting the best parts of himself. You followed them with your eyes as it led your stare down to his protruding cock. Your jaw went slack as you noticed how hard he was for you already.

Loki watched you appraise him. Your wanton eyes grew darker, and your breathing got quicker. His senses picked up every reaction that your body was going through. He was prepared to confront your fear or disgust, but he couldn’t see that in your face. Instead, he saw hunger and need. He could smell your desire growing for him and it made him feral. He wrapped his hands around his shaft, stroking himself to the sight of you, ready and waiting on his bed.

Loki felt ravenous as he knelt over you on top of the sheets. He spread your legs apart, seating himself in between the warmth of your thighs. His heavy cock resting atop your wet cunt. His hands eagerly tore up your swimsuit as they explored and venerated your body. His lip’s sole mission was to mark bruises where his hands had trailed, following the chill of his touch.

“…Loki…”

“Shh, Darling. I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to,” he winked as he nipped the underside of your breast. Too many emotions. Too many thoughts. They were swirling at the forefront of his mind wanting to be said. His desire for you was overwhelming him.

In this form, he felt more primal. His emotions were stronger and almost frightening, but all he felt was fire. Everywhere. An all-consuming heat that wouldn’t dissipate until he had claimed you. His need for you was never as aggressive as it was right now. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he could easily hurt you. He needed you to be in control.

“Don’t stop,” you begged him.

“And what would you have me do my Darling?” he breathed onto your skin. “Tell me, and I will comply.” Loki was giving you the green light. The authority to take over because he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle enough not to harm you.

Oh, but the fire. The fire inside him wouldn’t relent. “Shall I force my cock down your throat till you gag for me to stop?” he suggested with a grin. You bit your lip and moaned as the image took hold in your mind. You moved your hips involuntarily, rubbing against his hefty shaft.

“Maybe I’ll edge you for the rest of our stay. Keep you here tied to our bed, my little slave, until I’ve properly bred you.” Loki seized your lips and held you down on the bed. His cold hands capture your wrist in an icy grip.

“S’cold,” you gritted.

“You can take it. You don’t mind a little bit of frostbite. Don’t you, my love?” He ground his hips as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder, leaving teeth marks in their wake. You felt his hard cock rub against your sensitive nub. It elicited the most erotic noise from your lips. Loki fought to keep his composure. With every moan you made, it got harder and harder for him to control his urges.

“I thought this was supposed to be my Christmas present,” you sighed, regaining some form of authority and clarity. You intertwined your fingers with his and signaled him to turn over with your hip. You pushed his shoulders down onto the bed as you straddled his waist.

Loki looked up at you in all your glory. Your beautiful face shining down with love and adoration was enough to heal the worry and anxiety he was feeling. “I want to admire my present,” you pouted as your eyes took all of him in.

His mischievous smile broke through as he raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head. “As you wish,” he hissed as the corded muscles in his biceps swelled.

You traced his beautiful blue markings down from his arms to his pecs. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered absent-mindedly, getting lost in the exploration of his body. Loki blushed at your words. He had never heard that word describe his Jotunn form before and it ignited a warm glow inside of him. Different than the fire, but still heated.

You leaned over him as your study led you to his neck and handsome face. You traced his dark lips as he opened them. His bright ruby eyes concentrated on you. “I love my present,” you whispered before you gently kissed him. “Thank you.”

Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue invading yours, as he wrapped his arms around you once again. His cold touch left a trail of goosebumps as he squeezed and grabbed your ass. He raised you slightly with one hand. And with the other, he guided himself into your entrance. The slick of your arousal coating the tip of his hard cock. “Are you ready for me?” he grunted. You nodded your head, keeping your lips on his, not wanting to break contact.

He thrust deep into your body. His heels held on against the mattress of the bed. He held your hips stable as he continued to drive upwards slowly- savoring how snug you were around him. Every pull of your tight pussy made him moan your name. “…yes…” he whined.

You sat up, holding onto his shoulders for support. “I need you, Loki,” you pleaded. Your nails dug into his dark skin as your hips took over his strokes. “…deeper…faster…”

“Take me then, Darling. Use me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to do this for you. To be good for you. With each push of your hips, he unraveled each time. Crowning to a tight knot in his abdomen.

You waited patiently for him to open his eyes and see the love and pride you had for him. When he did, you were met with an intense sparkle of carmine. Desire and vulnerability shone through, swirling in his gaze. His brows furrowed with pleasure as he bit his lip. “…oh, fuck…” he cried.

You moved faster. Your swollen clit rubbed against his dark curls adding to the already heightened pleasure you were building. You took his hands from your hips and guided them up your body. You placed them over your bouncing tits and he squeezed- rubbing your hardened nipple with his thumb.

“That’s my good little whore,” he gasped. “You like it rough don’t you?” You squeezed tighter around him in answer and Loki couldn’t stop the wolfish grin on his face.

He swallowed thickly watching you enjoy his touch. “Loki” you screamed. The only indication that you had reached your climax and was about to topple over. You trembled over his body screaming his name over and over as you came down from your bliss.

“Don’t stop, Darling.” He pushed harder into you. “Ride me,” he commanded. Loki watched as you clenched around his hard cock- disappearing into your wet folds. The sight was enough to make him tremble.

God, he was so much bigger in this form. You had to push hard to meet the hilt of his shaft. You raised your hips and dipped back down eliciting the deepest groan fleeing his lips. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ good girl.” His head tilted back and the desire to claim you came back. He had to take you faster. Harder.

He dug his heels back into the mattress and slammed his hips upwards. The gasping air leaving your lungs, the wicked moans filling his ears. All of it coerced him to cum inside you- finally releasing his pent-up yearning. Loki couldn’t stop the moans or praises leaving his lips. Your name peppered in with teasing curses and praises. “You always know how to make me feel good, don’t you, pet?” he prized as he took a deep breath to steady his exhaustion.

“Mmm, yes sir.” You kissed him ardently, taking his breath away from his already spent lungs. You trailed your kisses down to his neck and onto his panting chest. Each kiss made your lips tingle and chilly.

“We should probably get ready for dinner. What say you, my love?”

“Hmm? Maybe in a while…I’m not done playing with my Christmas gift yet.” You responded as your lips traveled further down towards his already hardening cock.

Loki smiled as he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your warm tongue on his cool skin. “In a while,” he repeated. “Fuck…in a while.”

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish ++

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