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#but also i’ve given like no thought to it either
yourqueenb · 5 months
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As a continuation of this ask that I responded to, all the things I mentioned are just parts of the overall issue I have with Blades…. which is that, in the grand scheme of things, I feel like MC is simply a plot device for the other characters rather than a fully developed character who has a fully developed and satisfying arc herself. It’s clear that Nia’s is the story the writers really wanted to tell considering how intertwined her characterization/development and the overall world building are. They basically even admitted as much.
So my question is why not just make her the MC if that’s really what you wanted on the not so down low? They still could’ve incorporated the skill mechanic. Why create a whole player character just to have us running to solve everyone else’s problems/support them while acting like everything that happens to us exists inside of a vacuum in the meantime? So far, all we’ve really been doing in this book is reporting where the group needs to go, telling them what to do, having heart to hearts with them when they need help moving to the next stage of their development, and then being spoonfed information through the lore tablets, which are apparently more for the players’ benefit than MC’s since they barely affect how we respond in game anyway. I’m fine with being the leader or the glue that holds everyone together, but to me it’s unsatisfying that that’s all we are as the main character.
We somehow become more competent due to the skill mechanic but no less clueless at the same time. We have all this terrible shit happen to us, but are only offered a few lines’ description of how that’s affected us. And then the rest of the attention goes to setting up the light vs. shadow conflict and our friends, who get to have personal and compelling conflicts of their own. I mean I feel like MC is more of an emotional support animal to them than an actual person with dreams, feelings, and a (minimal) background. Imo the only character who’s getting shafted almost as much as us is Imtura.
And all of this might make it sound like I hate Blades, but it’s quite the contrary actually. It’s still one of my favorite series and has a lot of fun moments and lovable characters. But I think at this point, its flaws have become too large for me to ignore. So that’s still affecting my enjoyment a bit and probably the reason why I’m so upset with how certain things are being handled. Of course I’m aware that Blades isn’t the only book that has some of these issues though. I think it’s just a little more disappointing because I expected more
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atopvisenyashill · 2 months
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anyone here like mcr. is that too tumblr 2010 even tho they’ve released new music that everyone should listen to anyways.
so anyways i have a wip alicent/aegon fanmix i like to listen to when i’m reading fanfiction and i tend to build fanmixes by just throwing songs i think fit and then relistening 30 times to make sure they all flow together and i threw mama in there thinking it wouldn’t really fit and i’d probably have to take it out but it Does fit and also
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I got really excited about his death scene again aksjsjdj i literally can’t wait to watch a burned, high off milk of the poppy, can barely walk Aegon start screaming and crying and spitting in Baela’s face with her head on a block because Sunfyre just died while Alicent is standing a few feet away begging him to stop and just take the black.
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sucker-for-sniffles · 11 days
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Hi to the handful of people who said more Robin and Harper (prince and knight duo) do y’all have anything in particular it would be fun to see because I very much want to write more for them but my ideas are all non-snz stuff so if there are requests I am Looking
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sunnibits · 2 months
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bruh I never thought I’d say this but wyll has me BLUSHINGGGG 😩
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tragedykery · 4 months
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I love going completely overboard with worldbuilding as soon as I get an idea for an au. will this be mentioned in the fic? probably not. am I doing it anyway? of course
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sooooo……. there’s some ConversationTM* going around the theology (and adjacent) girlies tonight and it’s got me very intrigued—are there really more options than just Calvinist/Arminian?? bc I’ve always been raised with this idea that those are The Two Options regarding salvation theology and how exactly it all plays out. but apparently that’s…. not the case??
Iwill add that yes, Molinism is a thing that exists, and I know of exactly one guy who’s a theologian and philosopher and who believes in that lol. it’s not exactly a super common alternative to the others. and then I do believe Catholics have a slightly separate view as well, but I’m mainly just talking about soteriology within Protestant theology here anyway.
*(I won’t say ‘DiscourseTM’ bc that seems more antagonistic than what I’m seeing around here rn; everything seems to be in good faith and just for the sake of pointing out minor discrepancies atm)
#I will add that I’ve largely been raised in Baptist churches but my family is… not really that#we’re definitely a bit more wesleyanish in our theology#and that’s what I’ve always been taught at home from my own parents#but I definitely was also always under the impression (and I think my parents may be as well) that Calvinism/Arminianism is like. a binary.#you are one or the other. and there are levels within each. but there aren’t really any third options. all denominations trace back there.#(tbh this is a huge reason why I desperately wish I had been given better theological training when I was younger#because suddenly I’m an adult and quite set in my views and opinions theology and also have a long-standing Fite Me sort of mentality#towards Bible teachers in general due to some very unethical ones we encountered a Lot throughout my childhood#and a tendency to want to die on the smallest and most arbitrary theological hills imaginable#AND an extremely strong adherence to a set of theological tenets that… I am recently discovering possibly aren’t at all what the people who#taught them to me thought they were…#so like. now in a lot of ways it feels like I’m basically having to unlearn and relearn a bunch of extremely basic stuff about all this#while also dealing with the constant fear of ‘giving up’ and either leaving the faith entirely or embracing a completely foreign brand#that’s not at all what I was raised with and still do hold to be true and accurate and good)#gurt says stuff#theology#religon#christianity#faith#knitting circle
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idk WHAT put it into my head that Devil in Ohio was based on a true story but this was me watching the end
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champagnefountains · 2 months
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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
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Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).
It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 
Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.
Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  
So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 
“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 
“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 
The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.
Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 
“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 
There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”
A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 
“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 
Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 
“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 
“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 
For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.
If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.
“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.
“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 
Earlier on:
On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.
You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.
Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 
“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  
“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 
"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 
You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 
“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 
“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 
Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 
“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 
“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.
“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 
There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.
“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 
Currently:
Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 
After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.
After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 
Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 
“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 
“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.
As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.
“Oh, fuck no!”
Chapter III - Finale [x]
Thank you for reading!
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prettyboykatsuki · 3 months
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YOU’VE GOT THE CURE (EVERYTHING I NEED) | B. KATSUKI. 
✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, soft dom!reader, sub!bakaugou, developing relationships, mutual pining and ambiguous relationships, anal play (m!recieving), dry orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, 18+
✮ wc ; 6.7k
✮ a/n ; an anon comission from a beloved mutual im posting. also just dropping in to say hello
✮ synopsis ; katsuki is too fucking young to have erectile dysfunction, damn it.
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“Hey.” 
“Hm?” 
The sound of your typing is especially loud in the empty office. It’s a Saturday and neither of you are supposed to be clocked in, but when duty calls - it’s up to the two of you to answer. 
“...I’m going to tell you something. If you so much as fucking laugh I will kill you.”
You don’t look up from your screen.
“Well that’s one way to start a sentence. I’ll try not to laugh.”
Katsuki slams his hand on the desk. 
“I’m being serious,” He says in a half-yell. You look up from the edge of your laptop unflinchingly with a displeased frown, shaking your head and throwing your hand up half-heartedly. 
“Fine, fine - I promise I won’t laugh. Can you stop being all ominous? You sound like Tokoyami.” 
“There’s something wrong with me,” 
“Well yes,” 
“Not like that,” He hisses, taking a deep breath. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped seriously as he covers his face. “...I think my fucking..thing..is broken.” 
There’s a loud noise like a muffled laugh but when Katsuki looks up your expression is completely blank. Your lips are pressed tight, eyes out of focus as you continue to type. Or pretend to. True to your word, you don’t laugh but Katsuki still wants to fucking kill you. 
“Oh? What uhm,” You clear your throat, lips trembling as you try to keep yourself together. “What brought you to that conclusion?” 
He nearly snaps his pen in half. 
“What do you fucking think?!” 
“Hey. Calm down. I’m doing my best not to laugh but you are not helping.” 
This is the sort of thing Katsuki would normally take to his grave. Not only is it genuinely humiliating, it is the sort of painful personal detail he wouldn’t share with anyone even if he was fucking them. It wouldn’t matter either, that his dick isn’t working - if the other ways he relieved stress were.
He’s got an average sex drive, sometimes lower but a high libido. Getting off is a physical response to a bodily need. Like eating food or taking a nap. It’s just because it’s a physical need, it is noticeable when the need doesn’t get met. He is painfully aware of it. It’s been weeks and he thinks he’s starting to lose his mind. Worse? He’s exhausted every human option trying to fix the problem himself, save for going to the dick doctor. His testosterone levels are fine, he gets check-ups more regularly than the average person. Given his reputation is at stake, he’d rather not get prescribed anything. He’s bought ginseng and shitty vitamins and medicine he had to ship from overseas. Anything and everything. 
Picking up viagra at the ripe age of twenty four would give him psychic damage he won’t recover from, this much Katsuki is sure of. So not that. But everything else, every natural remedy conceived - he’s tried. 
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose and willfully ignoring the sound of your strained huffing “I can’t fucking get….it up and I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’m going crazy,” 
“You know, it really says something about our relationship that you can confide to me about these kinds of problems. Like I’m so proud of us,” 
“Shut up. I’m already miserable enough without wanting to fucking tell you - but the only other option is Shitty Hair and Izuku. I refuse to buy a single goddamn pill for it, and I know if I go to a doctor they’re gonna recommend it and—” He can’t finish the thought. It’s a little too sincere for the kind of conversation you’re having. 
You’re a tactless person, so of course - you don’t bother with going along with the mood. Instead you smile like the evil bastard you are. 
“And…?” 
“You little—” He sighs rubbing his palms over his hands ���And because I can trust you to be the least horrible option.” 
“So you acknowledge my valiant efforts as your underling and assistant and know you’d be nowhere without me?” 
“Shut up.” 
“Aw, you’re sweet,” You say, promptly ignoring him “But yeah, I mean - no judgement. I would ask if you’ve had anything major happen but I unfortunately already know that’s not really the case.”
Yes. You, of all people, would know that no major changes have happened in Katsuki’s external life that would make it hard for his dick to function. You spend so much time together. Minus the time he spends working and catching villains in the world - you’re practically glued to his side. You’re in charge of all of his affairs, his schedule, all other personal things. Katsuki is naturally neurotic, but you handle all of it with grace and care. You know everything about him, which is why he is asking you about this problem. 
(Does it border on unprofessional? Of course it does. But your relationship to each other degraded that border a long time ago. You’ve already slept in his bed and met all of his friends. And kissed him, but that’s irrelevant for now) 
“I need solutions,” Katsuki offers, totally and utterly defeated by the situation at hand. “I’ve done everything. Taken every goddamn herb, done every meditation. Nothing is working. Nothing. I’m going to go fucking crazy.” 
“Do you think just sleeping with someone would help? I know you don’t want to ask any of your friends, but maybe an escort? We can do it discreetly.” 
“Fuck no. If it were that easy I would’ve done it.” 
You pause. Katsuki can see the focus on your face and doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. After an elongated period of silence, you perk up a little. You lock eyes with him and Katsuki briefly regrets bringing the whole conversation up in the first place. 
“Hate to ask,” You say, though there’s not enough embarrassment on your face to make anything of that statement. “But uh, have you tried getting off with other things. Like something that isn’t your dick.” 
He feels a flush creeping up his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about!”
“This is an important question,” You emphasize, an expression so alarmingly calm Katsuki doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. “Cause if the answer is no, then that’s basically the best solution.” 
“How the fuck is that the best solution? Are you insane?” 
“Don’t be such a prude, Mr. Dynamight. You’ve bottomed before. It’s not that different. Have you ever tried it on your own?” 
“I fucking hate you.” He replies, closing his eyes and frowning. “No I haven’t. Why the hell would I do something so embarrassing.” 
“I know you’re super anal retentive - no pun intended there actually, but can you relax a little? It’s a good solution if nothing else is working. Your dick might be broken but an orgasm is an orgasm.” 
“Remind me to never ask you for shit again,” 
“I’d love that. Just keep me on payroll. Anyway,” You go back to typing. “I think that should be your first move,”
“How the—are you seriously telling me I should go fuck myself to solve my problem?” 
You giggle. “Well it sounds bad when you put it like that. But I guess yeah. I can help pick out some sex toys, maybe, do a little research. If you don’t want to do it in your apartment, there might be a love hotel,” 
A blush creeps up against the back of his neck. He covers his face with his hands. 
“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up. There’s no,” Another wave of humiliation sets in “There’s no way this is how I’m going about this. Like. Fucking none.” 
“The only other option is the good old fashioned doctors appointment, then. Which we can squeeze in over telehealth I think - since you got a check-up pretty recently. Want me to do that instead,” 
“Fuck, no. I just,” He groans, feeling the stress make his eye twitch “Fuck.” 
There’s a bit of silence and a little typing, like you’ve decided to leave him to his thoughts. Which he doesn’t blame you for, because all things fucking considered - there’s not really any more options. He’s a smart man and even he is fucking stumped. He’s going to have to give into something, eventually. He knows that, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 
As soon as he gets close to giving up, you sit up straighter and give a deep long sigh. 
“Hey,” You scratch the side of your face awkwardly. “Do you want me to help you….?” 
He stares at you. “With what.” 
“With your dick being broken,” 
“What?!” 
“Don’t yell anymore, you’re giving me a headache,” You express, rubbing your temples. “Look. You need to get off, and you’re probably going to have to use your ass to do it. You don’t want to do it by yourself, and you don’t want to do it with a friend or escort. You’d prefer not going to the doctor's office or taking any pills. I’m offering - I’m not really your friend per se and you trust me enough to ask about it.” 
He hates more than anything that you have a point. 
“You can’t be fucking serious right now.”
“Hey. If you want your dick to stay broken for a while until you figure it out, do you. I’m just saying. Offering solutions is what you pay me for,” 
He pulls back a little. 
“...Are you fine with that?” 
“Oh banging you? Is that what you’re worried about?” He winces at the direct and crass way you speak. “I like you plenty and you’ve got a pretty face. I’m down if you are,” 
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.” 
“Really? I totally can,” You snicker, and he really, really considers firing you. “It’s not the first time we’ve crossed boundaries with each other. Just consider it, okay? Before you actually blow a fuse.” 
He leans back in his chair and groans. 
“Fuck. Yeah, whatever.” 
__ 
It’s another week before Katsuki takes you up on your offer. 
Miraculous it took that long, given the amount he suffered stubbornly trying to fix the problem on his own. The lengths he went too are too embarrassing to even disclose or recount but it very quickly became clear that this was not an issue that was going to magically disappear - no matter how hard he tried. 
Against his better judgment and after a long, cold shower trying to talk himself out of reality - Katsuki sent you a one line text. 
Fine. Come Saturday. 
The only thing he could say without dying of complete fucking shame. He’s grateful that’s the time you decided to have some tact. 
(Not a lot, since the text back you sent was a peach emoji and a thumbs up. But whatever, he’ll take what he can get.) 
It’s Saturday now, and he’s clean. All of him. He’s clean, and just wearing his boxers - sitting on his couch. You’ll be here very soon, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, but he’s nervous. 
You did mention you were fine with it. He believes that because there’s been long standing tension between you two for god knows how long he’s not entirely blind too. You sleep at his place sometimes and spend all day with him, and then there was that one time you two kissed (very sober) during New Years. You don’t bring it up because you know he can’t deal with it. Yet he’s comforted by the fact you at least want it (because you’ve said so), and that you’re willing to do this despite the ambiguity in your relationship. 
He knows that is inevitably going to come up today. But he really wants to fucking cum. And if it’s with you, then it’s fine. If his head was a little clearer, he would probably reject this whole thing based on his own emotional disparity. God fucking knows he is not in any place to deal with any of that. His heart barely gets by in the office and now you were going to fuck him. 
Is he stupid? 
Usually no, but because there’s a soft dick and tight balls where his brain used to be, currently yes. Everything put together, it’s a recipe for disaster. He considers telling you to fuck off and forget all this happens. 
But then he thinks about the prospect of your hands and your voice and it’s enough to at least get his heart pumping, though his dick still refuses to cooperate.
More than anything, he does trust you. Shitty, smug little fucker you can be sometimes - there’s not a single person who goes out of their way for him. More than just your job, sometimes it feels like every little thing you do is for his sake. Everything you don’t ask of him, every secret you keep. You push him where he needs to go and encourage him to take risks in his career without imposing on him. 
He blushes again, laying on his couch. He was nervous before but it’s not any better. Maybe he’s not so much of a dumbass as he is a total fucking masochistic. Is the level of overthinking the shit Izuku goes through? No wonder he’s like that all the time. 
He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring. 
He answers the door shirtless and finds you on the other side. You have a cardboard box and the most nonchalant expression he’s ever seen. Normally it would annoy him, but right now he’s kind of comforted by it. You look at him with a flat smile. 
“Hey sexy,” You say with no intonation. “Can I come in?” 
He gives you a look of disdain. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. But come in,” 
You laugh quietly as he steps aside. You don’t have much with you other than the ominous box and your bag. 
“You look like you’ve showered,” You say, taking your shoes off and putting on the house slippers he keeps for you. You don’t even look at him as you go towards his bedroom upstairs. He follows you with mild (faux) annoyance.“What a shame.” 
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“I wanted to get a little romantical and help you clean up but you’ve taken that from me. I’m a little hurt.” 
“You’re such a dumbass. As if I’d let you do that,” 
“Don’t be such a spoilsport. I’m gonna be playing in your ass today anyway.” 
“Not the same thing.” 
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” You say with a wave of your hands. When you finally get upstairs, you look over your shoulder. Katsuki gets the message quickly enough, helping you with the door. You give him a little smile and let yourself in, dropping the box on the edge of his king sized mattress. 
He stands in the doorway for a short while, glancing at you before coming in. You put your bag somewhere on the floor before getting back to the box you’ve brought over. He can guess what’s in it, but he stands with you to open it anyways.
Predictably,  the thing is full of sex toys. The first question he wants to ask is how much you spent on all of it, but he bites his tongue. 
You look at him and do a little jazz hands gesture. “Tah-dah.” 
He gives you a displeased look, but you’re well used to this sort of thing from him. There isn’t actually a whole lot in the box. The theatrics of you bring it upstairs were more likely just you fucking with him for the sake of the bit.  He frowns. Typical. 
You do have some new things in the box. A few expensive look gadgets, like a pair of quirk canceling handcuffs (decorated with leopard print fur) and something that looks like it goes around his neck. The sex toys that are in there are noticeably high quality. You definitely used his dime to pay for this. 
“Handcuffs? Seriously?” 
“You’re too much of a control freak and I like not having my hands blown to bits,” You say, shaking your head. “We should establish some ground rules and stuff now.” 
“Haah? The fuck are you gonna do that we need rules.”
“I’m not just gonna jump scare you with dominating you. But that is what I’m doing.  What we’re doing.” You give him a more serious look, that makes him feel more shy than he cares to admit.  “You get what I’m saying? You have to trust me a little, okay?” 
He makes a petulant face at you. “I already trust you dipshit,” 
“This and that are different,” You say, shaking your head. He refrains from disagreeing with you a second time. They’re really not, but he has no desire to explain that. “I’m gonna touch you and be a little strict. Are you okay with that?” 
“I don’t care.” 
“That’s not an answer,” 
He grits. “I want to cum. And I…trust you or whatever. I already agreed to this. If it’s pissing me off, I’ll just kick you offa me. Anyway, ‘s fine.” 
“If you kick me I’m suing you for battery. We can have a safeword. I’m not going to duct tape your mouth and I’m gonna talk you through most of it - but just incase.” You say. He pauses, taken aback by how… delicately you’re treating him. He doesn’t know if he should be pissed about it or not. “Any word is fine. We can use the stoplight system too if you want.”
“Stoplight?” 
“Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.” 
“That’s fine. Easy to remember.” 
“Okay,” You nod to yourself, tucking the promise to memory before looking at him more seriously. “Are you okay with intimacy?” 
He stares at you. 
“The fuck…?” 
“Kissing and hand-holding and all that other stuff.” 
“Is it necessary?” 
“Strictly speaking, no,” You look at him knowingly this time. He’s taken aback, but you’re always like this. You look through him, not at him. “Are you okay with it?” 
The implication is there. Do you want it? is the question that goes unasked. Too direct for his tastes. He feels heat spread through his body, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 
“Yeah…’m fine with it.” 
Your smile is more genuine this time around. He turns away from you a little. 
“Okay. That’s everything out of the way. I’m gonna cuff your arms,” You say. It all feels a little sudden. He figures you’d mean business, but still - he’s not all that prepared. He’s had a week to mentally prepared but that feels like nothing compared to now.  There’s an authority to the way you talk now he isn’t sure he’s going to get used too. “Repeat your safewords to me when you turn around.” 
He frowns but listens. He puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for you to cuff him, shyness making him hot. 
“Uh. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.” 
“Good boy,” You say so smoothly it almost rolls off of him. The cuffs go around his wrists, and Katsuki can feel the familiar sensation of losing his quirk. Now it’s just the both of you. “I’m expecting a little pushback, but generally - you’re to listen to me. Clear?” 
“God, fuck - yeah clear,” Katsuki says, feeling ticklish all of a sudden. “All this shitty foreplay is making me feel weird.” 
You wrap your arm around his midriff in a sudden movement, making him twitch. He can feel your cheek pressed against his chest as your hands hover over his waistband. He takes in a sharp inhale. 
“It’s good that you’re feeling anything.” You say, breath just barely above a whisper. “Gonna take this off,” 
He just nods, silently. It’s still on soft, but something is happening in his gut at least. You help him take his boxers down. You’ve probably seen him naked before, more than once. You two being attached at the hip was no joke. This time there’s this lingering anticipation that’s there, and that changes things. 
He steps out of his boxers. He’s naked and you’re clothed and his head feels like it’s spinning. Your hand guides him to the edge of the bed. He sits and watches you, but you don’t undress. 
The first kiss (second kiss) that you exchange with Katsuki is pleasant. You bend down to do it. It’s a chaste way to meet his lips, weirdly soothing while his stomach is starting to tie in knots. It’s a little surprising how..comfortable it is. Your mouth is soft, your lips taste a little like chapstick and you smell nice. You pull away to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw. 
Your thumbs draw over the shell of his ear, rubbing the lobe tender. You’re so different. The contrast in your normal personality is a little too much for him to reconcile with easily, but you brush over these things well enough. He looks away when you meet his eyes. 
“Do you wanna lay down or kneel?” 
His throat is tight. “...Don’t care.” 
You laugh a little to yourself, another kiss. “Lay down then. It’d probably be easier if you put your ass up but knowing you, I doubt it.” 
He blushes, annoyed that he’s so obviously predictable to you. 
The sheets are soft where he lays. You don’t join him on the bed at first. He just waits there cuffed as you shuffle around for things - lubes and toys and pillows. When you do return to him, you pat his side and slide a pillow underneath his back. He quickly regrets laying down, because god the position is fucking exposing. 
You get between his legs and settle there comfortably. A hand rests on his bare thigh, rubbing your thumb into smooth, muscled skin. His breath is hitched. You lean down and kiss his hip. Still no dice on the erection, but you don’t seem discouraged. 
You flip the lube open and let it pour onto your fingertips. It’s pink lube. This is mildly irritating, but saying anything will feed into your satisfaction so Katsuki bites his tongue. He watches it as you warm it in your hands, patting his leg with your clean hand. 
“Legs up,” You instruct. “And deep breath. Try not to tense.” 
“Just goin’ for it, huh?”
You don’t reply to that, but you do smile. 
It’s not his first rodeo. His second or third, but certainly not his first - but he’s never had it done for a reason like this. There was an exchange prior, that someone was putting something in him for their pleasure too. This isn’t for that. This is just for him, with your skilled hands and your oddly gentle tendencies that he doesn’t see any other time. That proves to be too much, makes his belly feel honeyed with lust. 
The warm, thick sensation of lubed fingers presses against the tight rim of muscle. He breathes and unclenches. Tries not to think too hard about anything. He’s desperate, too desperate. At this point, it’s hard to be prideful. Your hands are noticeably daintier than the ones he’s had in him prior. It’s…weirdly nice. Makes the process easier somehow. He’s reminded that you’re just you, and that makes him more nervous. 
“That’s it, baby,”  You hum, so soft it’s startling. The way the blood starts to rush in that familiar way nearly makes him sick. Oh, fuck. No way. “Oh?” 
No way. No fucking way. No way that’s what does him in. 
You pause. He takes in a deep breath, ready to say anything to defend himself. Humiliation spreads through his whole body. He can feel how hard he’s starting to burn, like the blood in his body is struggling to keep up with the desire and pump of his heart. His chest and face start to flush a familiar rose as he grits his teeth and closes his eyes. 
Weeks. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure this out. And it was you calling him baby, of all things, to get him at half-mast. 
He’s too afraid to open his eyes, but forces himself too. He’s expecting a smug laugh or sarcastic jab but instead you just look surprised. You stare at him, unblinking. He’s so startled he stares back. 
“Do you wanna…keep going?” 
He gets hard. Fuck. 
“S-shit,” He says, wishing he could cover his face with his hands properly. “Yeah,” 
He can’t read your expression at all. Annoying. You don’t brush over it though - but you don’t force him to acknowledge it either. Maybe you’re just focused on the fact he finally has something to work with and don’t want to ruin it by making him talk about his feelings. 
“Baby,” You say again, smooth and deliberate. There’s that twitch again, something pooling in his gut. He starts to feel nervous. You’re doing the same as before, stretching him and teasing the rim - getting him ready for something else. “You like bein’ my baby, Katsuki?” 
He opens his mouth, only to close it again. He tries to choke some word about, telling you go fuck yourself - but he always ends up looking at your face. Your lashes on your cheek. Soft touches and even softer words. He stops knowing what he wants at some point.
“Ugh,” His voice grows thicker. “Don’t ask me that,” 
(If he were more apt at honesty, he could admit to you that he just wants you. In whatever way. Sometimes you get like this, when you’re not screwing around - and you’re so good to him that it hurts. He likes your sarcasm and dryness. 
But he likes too when you’re this sweet on him too - even if that feels shameful as fuck. That feels like it’s crossing so many more lines that you’re usual self. He knows that better than anyone. It is crossing more lines than usual. 
He can’t help but think about it anyway.)
You laugh a little. His eyes go lidded as you continue to work him open. It’s a slow process. You circle his hole with your thumb each time before pushing in. You get one finger in without effort. The second one takes a little more. Another heaved breath and unclenching of his muscles. 
He hasn’t felt the sensation of something entering him in so long. He can’t remember when the last time was. He’s antsy as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching him slowly. You find the bottle with your free hand, flicking it open with your teeth and pouring lube onto him directly before you keep going. 
“That feel okay?” You mumbles
“Y-yeah. Feels fine,” He huffs, closing his eyes “Feels…good,” 
“It’ll feel better soon. Just need to,” You curve the two fingers inside of him up. They search and search and search until—
There. Shit, there. 
“Oh, shit,” He gasps, arching himself up as you rub it. You smile at him, pleased. “Fuck,” 
You whistle. Katsuki can feel his cock throb properly now, up at full attention. You don’t touch him though. Your other hand grips his thigh for support as you focus your wrist and energy on curling your fingers against his prostate. His stomach flutters, waist tightening.
He’s been fucked before, damn it, but this is different. This is controlled and concentrated. Your fingers are perfect in their motion, pinpoint pleasure making him break out into a feverishness. You’re annoyingly good at this. His whole nervous system feels like it’s being unraveled so slowly. Pulled apart like the slices of a fruit, something for you to pick off and eat.
His head feels like it’s full of cotton, tongue too big for his mouth. Thoughts clouded and inhibition lowered. Real pleasure. He hasn’t felt that in what has to be more than a month now. It’s overwhelming. He’s sensitive and muddy and acting stupidly - he’s well aware. It’s an out of body experience being so unwound in general but this after everything is overstimulating. 
God it feels good. How can anything feel this fucking good? 
His breathing is erratic, heart pumping trying to keep up with it. Euphoric little pricks start at his abdomen and shoot off through his whole body. Like the splintering ends of a falling star. 
He’s never had any orgasm that feels like it needs every muscle in his body to pump through him. It starts in his center and spreads out, melts him slowly. Usually the feeling of needing to cum is passing - just building pleasure until the orgasm hits and the high relaxes. His cock is leaking now with every little press along his insides. Little white dribbles of pre-cum sliding down his shift all the way down to his ass. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, so he focuses on how it feels. 
“Fuck, that feels so good,” His voice almost gives. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down.”
“You can cum if you want to, Katsuki,” As if to drive the point home by massaging his inner thigh, neglecting his cock “Guess you’re pretty sensitive inside, hm? Gonna make you cum like a girl,” 
His blush deepens.. 
“Haah, fuck - fuck I’m not sensitive. It’s just, hng. Been a while,” 
“Don’t be a liar or I won’t let you cum,” You tease. 
His eyes shoot wide, brows touching his hairline.  “Fuck, d-don’t you dare. .” 
You have the nerve to laugh at him. All things considered, maybe you’ve earned. “Just teasing. I’m awful but not that awful. “ 
“You’re not awful, fuck - just really,” He throws his head back against the sheets. “Need to cum, really need to—” 
“Gonna cum without even touching your cock,” You say, half-amused. He shudders when the realization dawns on him.“You’re so sweet.” 
He’s drooling. The strength goes out in his jaw as the feeling just builds and builds and builds. It goes on like it’ll never topple. 
When it does, it doesn’t feel so much like a rope unsnapping as much as it feels like everything is being pulled from under him. Like the loss of gravity. His abdomen goes tight, the anticipation of it making it impossible to breathe. So close, so close, so close. His brain feels shut off, mindlessly humping along air to capitalize on everything. You’re encouraging only eggs him on further. He lets out a garbled little noise, choking. His voice rasps as electricity flows through him. 
And he cums, there’s an orgasm - but nothing comes out. He cums so hard but his balls still feel so tight and full. It feels good but he’s still so fucking hard. It snaps him awake as his eyes open, and you’re staring at his cock a little awestruck. 
“Oh, poor baby,” You say - not exactly mocking him but not exactly being kind either. Katsuki stares at you lost and hazy. “A dry orgasm after all of that. That’s just cruel. 
He heaves. “What the….how am I supposed to?” 
His dick aches. Fuck he almost wants to cry. 
Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft in a sudden movement, making him hiss. He almost cusses you out. Sensitive, too sensitive. You put your thumb over the tip of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from it as you. You look mesmerized as it dribbles against your thumb
A long pause. 
“Hey,” Your expression is  serious. “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“What?” 
“I’m really turned on right now, shit. I was planning on just helping you but, you didn’t cum yet and I’m...,” You’re looking at him so directly. His heart pounds. “You can say no,” 
Of course he wants to fuck you. That’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t know where he’d find the fucking gall. 
“....’s sensitive,” He says instead, flushing with embarrassment. You brighten up. “Just… give me a minute,” 
“I will but first,” You rummage through your items and pull out a plug. His eyes widen. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” 
He grumbles, but doesn’t reject you. You have some kind of miracle in you - so he feels more inclined to just give in to whatever you say. You look eager to do it. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. 
It’s easy enough to put the plug in when he’s already all soft. He’s still sensitive and swollen. He hisses as the cool metal of the plug slides into softened hole, before settling. You give him a little tap on his which he glares at you for. Your only response is laughter. 
There’s nothing to talk about while Katsuki watches you undress. You don’t take it all off - just your bottoms. It’s not that he has nothing on his mind. Just that… seeing you like that isn’t making him any less hard. He just… looks at you. Dumbly. You slide your shorts off in one go and your underwear along with it, and you’re all on display. 
It’s pretty. Your pussy is really pretty. A horrifyingly embarrassing thing for him to think but it’s true. There’s a fine layer of hair on your mound that he likes. You’re dripping wet like you said you were, and that doesn’t make the situation any easier. You give him a little smug grin as you settle over his lap. He stares at you completely absent-minded, flushed. 
“Like what you see?” You tease. He’s too struck to lie to you. 
“Yeah,” He rasps. He’s out of his mind right now. He blames it on his dick. “I wish I could take these fuckin’ cuffs off.” 
You look at him a little surprised. “You don’t like being cuffed and restrained?” 
His ears feel hot, heat prickling up his skin. “Didn’t say that just,” He groans even trying to say it. “...Wanna touch you,” 
He trails off. You use your hand to turn his face back to you, cupping his jaw as you bend forward to kiss him. He stares at you wide-eyed, making a noise of surprise. This kiss is different from all the others. Deeper, with more feeling. He gets into it, lifting his head to kiss you back. 
When you pull away, you’re all fluttered lashes and adoration. 
“After I drain your dick dry,” You say with a confidence that astounds him. “I’ll take them off and let you fuck me proper. But you have to tell me you want that, first. Do you wanna fuck me, baby?” 
“Shit. Y-yeah,” He nods, feeling absolutely swept up in your pace. 
“Say it.” 
“I wanna fuck you, dammit,” He stutters through the last of his sentence. “Don’t make me beg, my dick is going to blow off if you keep torturing me.” 
You laugh good naturedly and he feels a little proud that he made you laugh. The thought that he’s beyond whipped wipes the smile off his face completely, but whatever. 
You pull back, sitting up as you examine his cock. You hold it up to you, weighing your options. 
“I’m too horny to open myself up. I’m just gonna sit on it, ‘kay? Don’t buck your hips up,” 
He opens his mouth to protest, but the words die in his mouth. The warm, wet heat of your cunt is immediately overstimulating. He groans so gutterally it startles him. Like it’s punched out of him. This is the only pressure his hard cock has gotten in months and it’s making him feel like he’s on fire. 
You don’t give him a chance to cover. You lean over him as you maneuver his cock to your entrance with all disregard for his sanity. You hiss as the tip finds the spot. Fuck you’re wet. Your insides are so soft, so sticky - but you’re still so damn tight. 
As you promised you go slowly. It doesn’t help him losing his mind. Worsened by the fact he can see you on top of him, all bated breaths and shaky moans. There must be a dull pain, but you only give him a smile as you get the first inch. 
“You’re big,” You say breathlessly. His cock twitches to life. “Feels fucking good. Shit, that’s amazing. Haha, I can feel you so deep already.” 
“Please stop talking, before I, haah,” 
“Don’t cum yet,” You demand, lowering yourself further and further until you’ve bottomed out. Katsuki feels fucking crazy. “Let me get my fill first.” 
“Ngh, easier said than fucking done,” 
You just laugh. “Try your hardest, Mr. Hero. Show off your endurance, hm?” 
He groans as you start to move. You really don’t regard him at all. You lean over him with one hand and use your other to tease and toy with your clit as you ride his cock with reckless abandon. The room is quick to fill with noise - the sound of skin slapping skin, the skin sticking where your hips meet his thighs. 
 You’re moaning in little broken waves. He’s not going to last if he listens to you anymore. 
He’s biting the inside of his cheek trying not to cum, but you don’t make it easy. You’re riding him with so much force, using him. Your pussy is so tight it’s gripping him, sucking him dry. A vice-like grip, sticky and pliant over the hard curve of his cock. Everytime you bounce and throw your ass a little harder onto him, he can feel you. Feel himself and  how deep he is. His hands tighten into fists where they’re cuffed in front of him. 
He’s never been… used like this. But he doesn’t hate it the way you disregard him to chase your own pleasure while being so generally mindful of his own. You take and take and take but you make it feel so good. 
It’s not helped by the plug in his ass, brushing against his prostate every single time you move. Makes him jolt. Every fiber and nerve in his body is wound as tight as it can possibly go. All of his strength, sanity, and focus he has left in him is trying not to cum, not to buck his hips up and rut into you like a stupid animal no matter how much he wants too. 
He can feel you start to cum before you even tell him. Your walls pulse with need and your movement starts to get slower. The grip you have holding you up weakens slightly. 
“Gonna cum. Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” You say with a pant. You open your eyes and look down on him “Cum with me, okay? Don’t hold it in,” 
The words alone trigger a reaction. But with everything else, it’s like Katsuki explodes. Weeks worth of tension in his body, in his muscles, in his everything  - burst at the seams. You cum and he follows you nearly in succession. The hard pulsing of your swollen cunt suck around him like a vice and he goes practically limp feeling his dick finally drain. 
He cums and he can’t stop cumming. Pumps out so much white hot seed his head starts to cloud. He fucks up into you, sloppy and dumb. Chasing his high as he pours every ounce of his load into your pussy without so much as a modicum of shame. A month of dryness overwritten by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. He doesn't know how long he stays there, painting your walls with his spend. It just goes on forever, longer than he’s ever experienced. 
He has his eyes closed as he goes limp. Fucking hell. 
It takes him a while to go soft again. When he finally does and returns to consciousness, he’s still nestled inside you. You give him a smile when his eyes finally open, leaning forward to kiss his hairline. 
“Still all there?” 
His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “I feel like I fucking died,” 
You giggle. 
“So… no?” 
“Kind of. Barely. What the fuck is up with you.” He says laying his head back, sweat dripping down his back. “Shit.” 
“Did you like it?” 
He gives you an unimpressed look as you laugh. 
“I’m glad.” You say softly. You’re warm. God he’s down bad. “We have a lot to talk about later. You should take a little break for now.” 
He nods in agreement to both things before pausing. “For now..?” 
“You thought we were done?” You say with a tilted head. He gapes. “I thought you knew I was more ruthless than that.” 
He groans. 
“You’re insane.” 
You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. 
“You love me.” 
He lets you kiss him some more and doesn’t bother denying it. 
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anxiousnerdwritings · 4 months
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Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨
TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming
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(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)
Entrapment
A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?
~~~~
You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.
He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.
You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.
Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.
The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.
~~~~
The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.
Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.
Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.
Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?
It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.
It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.
“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.
“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?
No.
He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.
He just wouldn’t.
“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”
~~~~
Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?
Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.
It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.
In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.
But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.
Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.
~~~~
Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.
Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.
No more calculating.
No more cunning.
No more being methodic.
No more.
Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.
At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.
One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.
After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.
He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.
Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.
You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.
“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”
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bunnysbrainrot · 22 days
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Too Sweet
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A series inspired by Hozier’s ‘Too Sweet’.
Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader
Content: No sexually explicit content, at least not yet. Some slight fluff? Slow burn vibes? Joel is kind of a dick (for once in my writings), but a protective dick.
Summary: You’re one of the newest arrivals in Jackson after a long trip to seek refuge. Now that you’re settling in, one of Jackson’s most integral men is the head of your first patrol. Will Joel be able to set aside that gruff demeanor for the sake of meeting someone new?
A/N: I’m so sorry about my recent hiatus, everyone. I’ve thought of this series for a while, to get me inspired again and to work towards something bigger. I’ve also thought about having some sections/chapters be from Joel’s perspective. Thoughts on that? Sorry it’s nothing spicy yet, but we’ll work up to it. Tensionnnn
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The sound of birds echoed outside your bedroom window. By some miracle, you’d found a community, after so many months wandering either alone, or with the occasional group, but never for long. The mattress beneath you squeaks as you shift in your bed. Normally an irksome noise, but it reminded you that you were finally safe.
A faint light of dawn trickles through the gaps in the curtains, streaking around the room in a periwinkle hue. Your sluggish grog was slowly wearing off, while you processed your plans for that day. It was a Thursday, according to your new watch. God, you hadn’t realized how much you missed being able to tell the time. Who knows truly how long you’d been out there. Days blurring together, the minutes excruciatingly drawn out without company.
It was nice to be a part of something again.
Finally, you sat up in bed, rolling your head to stretch your neck. How long had it been since you had a proper pillow?
A smile crept onto your face. You’re better rested than ever, but an anxiety still ate away at you. Today was your first patrol outside of Jackson. You weren’t alone, of course, but the expectations you held for yourself could be your downfall.
“Okay, let’s do this,” you whispered to yourself.
Walking over to your dresser, you eyed yourself in a dusty mirror above the chest of drawers. A kind woman named Maria had provided you with a few new outfits when you’d first arrived a week ago. In the meantime until today, she’d given you those days to process and settle, and you were grateful for her patience.
When Maria had asked you what role you’d like in the community, she could see the steely glint in your eyes. Well seasoned from years of fighting and running, yet still a kernel of a protective rage.
You had expressed to her of your journey before finding Jackson. On that day she asked you how many of the dead you had taken out thus far.
“In total, by myself, well over three hundred, I would say. I don’t know, I think I lost track at some point.”
Her expression shifted to one of assurance, like they’d just gotten a worthy addition to their town. Someone who could protect what they’d all built.
She explained the basics of patrols, the routes laid out on an old map, with hand drawn trails and indicators of the area. You made an attempt to remember as much as you could, but surely you’d get good practice being out there, actually doing it.
————
You check yourself before heading out the front door. This time of year, the weather has started to warm up, so your opted for a t-shirt, jeans, a light jacket, and a ‘new’ pair of hand-me-down boots.
The air outside was cleaner than you’d imagined. The scent of early morning breakfasts wafted through the breeze, bringing a pang to your stomach. Maria hadn’t mentioned how long patrols would take; you debated if you had time to grab something from a stall in the heart of town. Other residents had been given spaces to cook for the community, giving out easy meals for these hardworking people.
Turns out you did have time, to your relief. In a matter of minutes, you held a piping hot breakfast sandwich in your hands, its heat seeping into your chilled fingers.
A few folks wave a friendly ‘hello’ as you trek to the Southern side of Jackson, to its border wall to meet up with your patrol group. There was a huddle of both peiple and horses, you noticed, as you got closer. One of the people turned to you, giving a wave in recognition.
“Hi, am I late? I thought I’d have time to get breakfast,” you explained.
There was a woman with kind eyes who spoke next, “Not at all, these bastards just insist on getting up at 5:30.”
“That sure is an early start.”
“It gets them cranky like you wouldn’t believe,” she replied, quickly cut off by a new voice.
It was a gentleman who called to the group, “We all here?”
His voice wasn’t commanding, but it did put people into gear to check themselves. Clearly he was the one in charge of this patrol. The look in his eyes told you all you needed to know.
He might be someone to watch.
You turn to the woman, “I’m sorry to ask, but I don’t know anyone here yet. Is there any way you could give me a run-down of who everyone is?”
With a smile, she listed off the names of your group members, pointing them out. Some of them noticed and waved, others gave a slight smile, and others asked for your name. All were introduced until it was down to the man who’d rounded the group.
“And, that’s Joel. He’s head of the patrol.”
Your eyes shot to Joel now that you could put a name to the face. There was a moment of pause when you met his gaze, a moment frozen in time from his stare. He scanned over your face, down to your shoddy boots, and back to your eyes.
His expression doesn’t soften as he says, “Glad to have ya with us. Should be a horse on the way for you.”
Joel turns to face the gate as he rummages through his pockets for a folded map. He unfolds the paper until it spans across his horse’s shoulders.
The rhythmic clonk of a horse’s hooves came from behind. A familiar face approached with a stunning mare, it’s Maria.
“Mornin’ everyone, that should be it,” Maria traded off with you, handing you the mare’s lead. She spoke louder, announcing to the group. “Y’all stay safe out there. Shouldn’t be too bad, but it is getting warmer. Keep an eye out for groups.”
Members of your party nodded before Maria walked off, giving greetings to other folks who’d just begun to bustle around.
Your attention shifted back, specifically to Joel. It seemed that whatever he says, goes, so that’s what you’d follow.
Two men at the top of the wall made their way to the edges of the gate, hauling it open. Golden sunlight peeked above the mountains ahead, casting the world in a yellow glow.
Joel nodded, then a gruff, “Be smart. Stay close.”
————
The sun was overhead now. You’d been out here for hours, keeping an eye out for any infected that roamed too close to camp. A while ago, you spotted one trapped in an abandoned cabin. Which was quickly dispatched by one of the men in your party.
That cycle repeated almost wordlessly amongst you all. Hardly a single word had been uttered aside from Joel’s occasional command or redirection.
For the most part, things were going smoothly. And after a few minutes of some peace and quiet, you realized you’d strayed away from your spot in the formation. Your horse had fallen in pace with a beautiful brown stallion, riding on top, was none other than the leader.
Joel.
You’d turned to see who it was, but were quickly met with another intense stare. Your gaze darts to the side as you issue an apology, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get so ahead of everyone.”
For the first time his expression does soften. A slight hint or kindness in his eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkle with his slight smile.
“It happens. Just… keep a lil’ distance. You’re new, can’t have you rushing ahead without someone else with you.”
The words would form a lecture if it weren’t for his tone. It wasn’t scrutinizing, but rather soft and protective.
His advice brings a smile out of you. A genuine one, for the first time in a while. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as you’d assumed. You tug your horse’s reins to slow her pace, creating a few feet of space between you and Joel.
Yet even still, that smile he gave you kept your heart racing.
It would be a horrible idea, to fawn after him.
Right?
That thought had no effect on the tightness in your chest, or the fluttering in your stomach. Perhaps it was simply happiness that someone so hardened could be so easily friendly. A hard exhale later, you told yourself that it was the camaraderie that flustered you.
The group had made their journey back to town. Aside from the occasional runner, there wasn’t much defense needed this morning. Once your group returned, you’d have lunch and trade off with the next group, and share your findings before they venture out.
You had let your mind wander as you rode with the group.
In a split second, your mare bucks in fright. There was no time to assess what scared her before you were shooting ahead, flying past your patrol group.
“Nonononono- NO! It’s alright, it’s alright-“ you cry, but it falls on deaf ears of a scared animal. Tugging on the reins made no difference. You still shot ahead of the others, directionless without someone to guide you.
“It’s alright, baby, you’re safe! You’re okay. It’s gone!” You plead to the horse to slow down. The reassurances don’t seem to be enough.
A thundering set of footsteps is heard behind you. In a swift move, Joel jabbed his horse with his heel, pushing himself to race ahead of you.
With the rush of the air and galloping hooves, you could hardly make out his instructions.
“What?!” You shouted.
“Pull the reins! And I mean pull!”
You gripped the leather of the reins, drawing them to your chest, tugging your horse’s head back and away. Her pace slowed, but she kept running, now to the left. You could make out a curse from Joel as he redirected.
In a stroke of luck, he made some headway. Joel’s horse zoomed forward, and merged directly in front of yours, and the interruption slowed the mare’s pace just enough.
Another tug of the reins helps her into a steady beat. Joel was directly ahead, now turned to the side to block more of the path. Your horse huffed and threw her head frustratedly. In that short time you had no clue just how far you’d strayed away - looking backwards told you that it was at least a few hundred meters.
Embarrassment showed in your flushed cheeks and wild expression, looking to Joel for some sort of scolding.
“I think something scared her. I.. I didn’t get a chance to see, it all happened so fast-“
Joel raised a hand to stop you mid-sentence. He didn’t wear a smile like before, but his expression wasn’t angry. If anything, he had that protective look once again.
“I know. They’re skittish, ‘specially her. She needs a little more control than the others.”
It’s a reassurance, truthfully. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing you weren’t on the shit list on the first day. Your breathing had slowed down now, though your heart still raced wildly in your chest.
He scanned your face thoroughly before he asked, “You alright?”
A nod is what you could muster. It’s enough for Joel to give a nod back before waving to the folks behind you, the rest of the group, to call them over.
“Maybe next time I’ll have a more confident horse. No offense….” you paused, “what’s her name?”
Joel’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’s Belle you’re ridin’. Poor girl hasn’t been out in a while, so she’s not as warmed up to this. But you did good with her, all things considered. Handled it well.”
You reached down to pat Belle on the side of her cheek, caressing her carefully.
“It’s okay, Belle. We’re with you. You’re alright now.”
A smile vanished from Joel’s face when you look back up at him. He cleared his throat, his eyes skirting away until your party began to join up with you two.
“It’s all good. Belle got the jitters. Let’s head home.”
With that explanation out of the way, the team could finally resume their return home. Along the way, Joel didn’t have much else to say, much to anyone actually. His silence was solemn - definitely not any invitation to strike up conversation.
Perhaps that’s how he’d always be - resigned, reserved, and off limits to everyone. A part of you ached at the thought of it.
For Joel, that loneliness could be his downfall.
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Hi guys! Thanks for reading, I’m sorry if it seems a little boring, but it’s for the sake of the story building. TRUST it will get nasty soon. 🥰
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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months
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Can I have blue beetle headcanons of Jaime's lover who is adored by Khaji Da and maybe the scarab tends to always encourage Jaime to stay by his lover's side at all times?
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It took a bit for Khaji-Da to warm up to you, but during this time the scarab would become a silent spectator to your relationship with their host. Khaji-Da bore witness to the sweetest moments of your relationship where you both unabashedly showered the other in an abundance of love and support in the others ambitions, dreams and aspirations; wholeheartedly believing in the others capabilities to do anything and everything.
However the one that stuck out to the scarab came down to the time you found out about Jaime was Blue Beetle at possibly the worst way. It was during his hardest fight to date against a strong villain that seemingly had him down for the count with how unnerving it was to see an unmoving Jaime. So much so that you disregarded your current circumstances to call out to your boyfriend, hanging onto hope that you could give him the strength to send this villain packing.
‘Come on Jaime, you need to get up! I want you to get up so I know you’re okay because I don’t want to continue this life without you! You’re the strongest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know. You’ve persisted through so much whereas anybody else would’ve given up and I’m not allowing you to give up now! Not when you’ve come so far! And you, Scarab, if you can hear me, I don’t want you giving up either! You both have got what it takes to win this fight! Now I want both of you to get back up and fight until that bastard doesn’t have the strength to stand back up!’ Your cries were enough to urge both Jaime and Khaji-Da to get back up and finish the fight; emerging victorious.
Khaji-Da: you heard your lover, Jaime Reyes.
Jaime: I heard them, now let’s go kick some ass.
Ever since then Khaji-Da had grown fond of you and Jaime couldn’t help but find it hilarious with how you had a sentient scarab, whom that wanted nothing more then to stay within close proximity of you at all times. Not that Jaime was complaining, he’d love being by your side constantly but has found himself being the one to tell you everything Khaji-Da is saying to him within his head.
Ngl he kinda felt like he was the odd man out but with a few of your special kisses and cuddles, that was all soon well and truly forgotten about.
Jaime: why do you want me near them all of the time, they’re safe and sound. We got rid of that villain weeks ago, so what’s your deal?
Khaji-Da: you should stay by your lover for as long as you can Jaime, for despite the danger having been subdued and peace resorted, I still wish for you to enjoy the simplicity of your courtship. They’re good for you.
Jaime muttering to himself* did I just get a blessing from a scarab to continue dating my partner?
Again Jaime wasn’t one to complain about spending more time with you, if anything the moment Khaji-Da suggests that he spend the day with you, Jaime was already two steps ahead and was already bolted down to your house before Khaji-Da could finish speaking.
Khaki-Da is also very protective over you, so that whenever the Scarab thought you were in danger, they’d take over from Jaime and get in between you and whatever Khaji-Da thought posed a threat to you. Jaime is embarrassed, like extremely so but you couldn’t help but find it funny with how quick Khaji-Da was to go on the offence when an innocent puppy came up to sniff you.
Jaime: I am so fucking sorry, that was all Khaji-Da, not me.
Khaki-Da: and I’d do it again. The puppy was encroaching on our territory.
Jaime: IT WAS A PUPPY-
Needless to say not only do you have the most perfect boyfriend but also an overprotective sentient scarab that will not leave you alone. They’re a package deal. You want the cute boy, you also get the scarab attached to his back for free. Literally.
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catopoliscat · 23 days
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next time / kento nanami/fem!reader.
who would have thought that kento nanami was a virgin? not you. not after this long. perhaps he was saving himself for someone. perhaps he was waiting for you.
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tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab reader. penetrative sex. alcohol. dry humping. virgin!nanami. mutual pining. friends to lovers. creampie (wrap it kids). unprotected sex. touch-starved!nanami. canon!verse. you've known nanami since school. tinges of angst. nanami wanted you bad lmao. it's love babey. reader has experience. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever. wc: 7.7k. a/n: i kind of fear nanami's a little ooc here lmao, but i've spent too long on this so fuck it we ball he deserves this
also how mad would you be if i said this was set a week before shibuya arc be honest
mdni.
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You’re a bottle and half of zinfandel deep when Nanami tells you. 
Although you’re both a little warm, tipsy perhaps, you didn’t think either of you were quite drunk enough for this conversation just yet. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you to share a drink on a Friday, or a bottle in more pressing times. 
There were more bottles than glasses, lately. 
It was just two old friends, catching up. Talking. Complaining--usually about Satoru. Often you’d reminisce on easier times. Warm summers in the Jujutsu High courtyard, the cold tin of a soda in your hands, a bottle of water in his. Quiet talks of dreams and eventualities. Ignoring the gaping absence of a third at between you. 
Tonight though, you’re not sure when the topic had changed. Somewhere between the last dregs of the first bottle and the beginning of the second, the conversation had grown more sombre than usual. Talk of love and relationships always seemed to make the air heavier around the two of you, for different reasons. A stark air of loneliness that not even the most tart of white wine could overpower.
You had offhandedly mentioned turning down one of the windows you had met on your last mission. He had been younger than you, still full of life where the holes in yourself had long since emptied it out. You had shaken your head, flattered, but tired. There were better options for a man like him, still full of hope and vitality, a whole life ahead of him… when you knew any day yours could be cut deftly short. 
You had told yourself it had little to do with the fact that the man’s bright smile had reminded you of another, so many years ago.  
In the quiet of Nanami’s living room, swirling the last drops of your wine in your glass, you had mentioned that you had no real desire for relationships anymore. Other than sex, of course, but only sexual. A temporary release, one of the few you had left. Nameless faces and hurried touches. Sometimes clinical, sometimes primal. Always quick, and never the same person twice. 
You know?
To which Nanami had replied, “No.” 
Misunderstanding the gravity of what he was saying, you had raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing at your lips. “Not one for one-night stands?” 
It occurs to you distantly that you don’t know a lot about Nanami’s romantic life. Close as you two were, or so you liked to believe, he had never really mentioned it. And you had never asked. 
Nanami had shook his head in response to your question, and you had nodded. It aligned with his character, you thought. As cold and stoic as he liked to act, you couldn’t imagine a world where he would use and discard someone. He felt too much, cared too much. He would love too much too, if given the chance. If he gave himself the chance. 
In your musings, you had almost missed what he had murmured next. 
“I’ve never had sex at all.” 
Kento Nanami. A virgin.
The confession has your lips parting, your eyes blinking. Once, then twice, akin to an owl. You glance down at your wine glass for a moment, as if it had been the slightly smeared glass that had been speaking to you instead, and not the esteemed stoic sorcerer you had known for the better part of ten years. 
You look over at Nanami on the couch, but he’s staring at the carpet, his expression contemplative, almost pensive. His brows are drawn taut, a small knit on his forehead. His lips are drawn into a thin line, a slight crease in his chin. There was a specific emotion dancing in his eyes. You almost dared to use the word vulnerable.
It seems… ridiculous. Nanami? Attractive as he was? Kind, considerate, hard-working, to a degree. A woman’s dream. In another life, perhaps your dream too.
Had it not been for Nanami’s serious demeanour, and the fact that ‘joke’ and ‘Nanami’ rarely went together in the same sentence, you might have thought he was pulling your leg. A joke between friends. 
But he wasn’t. He very clearly wasn’t. 
“That’s… fine,” you finally say after a small moment, fearing you had let the silence linger too long. “There’s no rush for these things.” 
Nanami’s hum is short and clipped. Gruff, almost. He still refuses to meet your eye for now, and you make no move to change that. You get the distinct feeling that this newfound vulnerability doesn’t stem from him never having sex, but rather, the reason why he’s denied himself - because you know for a fact it has little to do with opportunity. 
You had lost track of how many women you had watched Nanami turn down, clipped and short, yet always polite. 
The silence is heavy between you. In the other room, you can hear the hum of his refrigerator, the buzz of the bulbs in the lights. Nanami’s apartment has always been quiet, but this silence feels suffocating. Paired with the wine, your head feels thick, your tongue thicker. 
A few moments pass, and as the revelation of his virginity settles into your stomach like seltzer water, you realise… it makes sense. Nanami wasn’t the type to use someone for sex, even if eager. He’d only have sex with someone he was in love with. Someone he trusted at the very least. 
And Nanami, as he had told you and a few others before, refused to entertain the thought of love whilst he was a sorcerer. No one with two working brain cells needed to ask why. He wasn’t alone in that choice, either. 
You toy with the stem of your wineglass whilst you toy with a reoccurring thought in your mind, one that you entertained often, but had yet to voice aloud. 
“You shouldn’t keep depriving yourself, Kento,” you say quietly. The use of his first name, rarely used in your adulthood, garners you a glance from him. It’s a small sign that you’re taking this seriously. 
“I’m not deprived of anything.” 
You scoff at that, small and quiet. “You deprive yourself of a lot, apart from pain,” you drawl, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. Like always, the wine and Nanami’s masochistic tendencies have your tongue loosening more than it should. “I understand not wanting to have sex with anyone you’re not in a committed relationship with. It’s kind of… admirable, and definitely you.” You fold your arms across your chest, fixing him with a stare that he still refuses to meet head-on. “But why deny yourself the chance of love?” 
In the back of your mind somewhere is a voice chanting ‘hypocrite’, but you ignore it. Nanami, however, does not. 
He finally turns his head to face you, the lines underneath his eyes seemingly heavier in the dim light of his apartment. An eyebrow arches. “And meaningless sex is different?”
You scoff again, louder this time. “It’s not meaningless just because I don’t love my partner.” 
“Or even know their name?” 
You raise a sharp eyebrow, your own lips now pressing into a thin line. A part of you wants to retort, to snap, but you remember the vulnerability in his face from a few moments ago, and you just about hold your tongue.
With an exhale, you grab the half-empty wine bottle off of the coffee table instead and gesture for Nanami to hold out his glass. He does, and the glug of the wine fills the space between you.
“You ever thought about it?” You ask, filling up your own glass. In your peripheral, you see him sit quietly for a moment before he nods his head. 
“I’m only human.” 
You hum. “You should experience it,” you add. You swirl the wine in your glass once before bringing it up to your lips. “Even once. Even if it means nothing.”  
With one glance, you can tell immediately that the idea doesn’t sit right with him. It was easy to forget sometimes how rigid and traditional he could be. Formalities that few seemed to care about these days. Always on the things you least expected. 
“I couldn’t,” Nanami replies, shaking his head. 
Oddly, you feel the desire to insist. Days of a sorcerer were short, and getting shorter every year. Younger than yourself and Nanami had already died long before they would ever have the opportunity to touch another, kiss another; to feel the warmth of a body against your own. They would never know what that distinct pleasure was like, even if they desperately wanted to. Time was infinite to the young, until it wasn’t.  
It occurs to you quickly that you’re thinking of Haibara, and everything you and Nanami had experienced that he never would. 
Something must show in your expression because Nanami raises an eyebrow at you. You swallow, before setting your glass back down on the coffee table with a dull clink. You look at him, your face surprisingly collected and casual for what you’re about to ask. 
“What about me?” 
Nanami’s questioning look only deepens for a moment, before something passes by his eyes. His lips part, his version of a falter. You know he knows what you’re implying, but still, he asks, “…what about you?” 
“What if we had sex?” You say without hesitation. “You know me. You trust me.” 
Nanami falters further. He straightens in his seat, his glass resting on his thigh, the thick muscle straining against his slacks. His whole body is thick with a tension you usually only see before a fight with a particularly highly graded curse. A vein protrudes from his neck.
His eyes flick between your face and your own glass, clearly wondering if it is time to call this night done, but you rise from your seat before he can, taking a small step toward the couch he’s sitting on. 
You sit down next to him, a little closer than you usually might. He doesn’t move away. Your thigh brushes against his, and this close, you can hear his breath hitch in response. 
“I’m not going to push this any further, Kento,” you say quietly, “but I’m letting you know it’s an option.” 
Although you and Kento were hardly affectionate with one another like most friends, you decided to take a chance tonight. You had already taken several, what was one more?
Reaching out, you take his glass from his hand and set it next to yours on the coffee table. Hesitating only a moment, you place your hand on top of his, your fingers curling around until your fingertips touch his palm.
His hand is stiff and warm underneath your own. The bones and knuckles press against your skin.
Something in the back of your mind is wondering why you’re pushing this at all. Would it matter if Nanami died without experiencing the pleasures of the body, really? Would the world stop turning for either of you? You know if Nanami really wanted to, if he felt the want, the desire - then he could leave this apartment right now and find someone willing, someone other than you. He could have done so years ago, during those few years he had masqueraded as a normal human being with a nine-to-five. 
You were risking a friendship over… what? The implied hopes and dreams of a dead fifteen-year-old? Haibara was dead. It didn’t matter to him whether Nanami experienced the things he never could. 
Nanami’s gaze flickers between your eyes for a moment, and this close, you can see the faint traces of the wine staining his lips. Your gaze must linger for a touch too long because his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. The pink skin glistens with the faint glimmer of his saliva.
When you look up, you see his eyes trained on your own lips, before they quickly flick back up to meet your eyes. 
“We’re friends,” he murmurs, his voice low, slightly thick. 
“And we always will be,” you reply.
He glances down at your hands. Somewhere between your own thoughts and Nanami’s reiteration of your friendship, your hands had interlocked, fingers intertwined like vines. He was gripping your hand a little too tightly to be comfortable, but you didn’t flinch. 
You’re not sure whether it had been your subconscious doing, or his. 
“I… can’t,” Nanami mutters finally, closing his eyes for a moment. “Not like this. Not… now.” 
Something clenches in your heart at his rejection, although you had expected it. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s denying you, or himself. 
You smile softly nonetheless and nod. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” you say quietly, going to pull your hand from his grip and give him some space. 
Only he doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens slightly. 
Your eyes flick between his hand and his eyes, still trained on your face. You raise an eyebrow, your lips parting to speak, but he beats you to it. 
“But I’d like to kiss you.” 
Something resembling a very quiet ‘uh’ pushes past your lips in a long exhale.
You’re not sure why the idea of kissing him felt more… intimate than the fact that you had offered your body to him only seconds prior. You’re not sure why there’s a prickle of heat at the back of your neck or your lips burn with a sudden need.
“Nanam-“
As if remembering himself, he shakes his head slightly, blinking away whatever stupor had just possessed him. He looks away, his grip on your hand loosening, but not quite pulling away. 
“I… don’t know why I said that,” he mumbles. “You should go-“
Your free hand is already gripping his chin, turning his face toward yours a little too sharply. A subtle grunt leaves his throat as he looks at you, his gaze foggier than usual. From the wine, you, or the whole situation? Who knows. 
Fingers against his neck, feeling the quickened thrum of his pulse, your thumb brushes against his chin, pulling the skin until his lips naturally part. You feel Nanami’s shaky exhale against your lips as you lean forward, warmth breath mingling with yours, the scent of wine heavy on the air. 
You close the distance slowly, giving him time to stop this, to pull or push away. To draw an end to this nonsense before it went any further. 
Instead of pulling back or pushing you away, he closes the gap so quickly your noses almost bump together. 
The first press of his lips against you feels hurried and unsure. It’s off-center slightly, barely hitting the corner of your mouth, but Nanami is quick to correct it. He slots his lips against yours more firmly the second time, his lips parting to capture yours fully. You feel a rush of air against your cheek as he exhales through his nose. 
The kiss is unhurried, curious almost, yet there’s a subtle urgency in it that surprises you. Your free hand moves from his chin to his jaw, fingertips softly caressing the sharp curve of it. The sound and feel of his sigh against your lips makes you shiver, and you become enamoured with it. 
Enamoured with him.
You part your lips further, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip, finally tasting the remnants of the wine that you had spotted earlier. An odd sound builds at the back of his throat before his mouth parts too, his tongue brushing against yours. 
Something changes quickly then. His hand, larger than you ever really noticed, cups the back of your neck, his calloused thumb pressing against your jaw, drawing you closer. Your other hands, still intertwined, seem to tighten around one another like a snake's coils. The wet smacks of your lips grow louder in the quiet of his apartment, just about overriding the sound of increasingly ragged breaths, borderline panting. 
Your head feels thick. Dizzy. The kiss is indulgent, almost sloppy now. Nanami’s tongue is in your mouth, exploring every crevice, tasting you with an eagerness you hadn’t thought he was capable of. Every time you brush your tongue against his, your taste buds wetly sliding against his own, a small sound rumbles in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and grumble. 
After a moment that feels like an eternity too short, you pull back slightly, just enough to see his eyes as you open yours. Nanami denies you this, however, because when you open your eyes, his are still closed, almost scrunched. A faint frown tugs at his brow. 
He leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. The heat of his skin against yours feels searing, your noses softly brushing against one another’s. He sighs deeply, as if pulled from the back of his chest. It almost sounds like defeat. 
“Kento-“
“I want you,” he breathes out, and your voice almost hitches as you feel rather than hear his voice. It’s a deep, husky sound, more rumble than syllable. But there’s a crack in his tone belying a raw vulnerability that you weren’t familiar with. Not from him.
His eyes finally open, looking up at you from underneath his brow. His hazel eyes are almost black, you realise, the familiar colour you’ve always admired swallowed up by a sea of coal. You wonder if yours are the same. 
He’s trembling too. You can feel his fingertips shake where they press against the nape of your neck. 
“I thought you didn’t want… this,” you murmur. ‘Sex’ suddenly feels too…
“I changed my mind,” he replies, a touch too quickly for you to believe that he was thinking clearly. 
But God, did you want him too. You want him so fucking bad it almost makes you ache. Your feelings toward Nanami had always been friendly, respectful. He had been your closest friend, your ally, your confidant. You had been through so much together. You liked him, every part. 
And somewhere along the way, between the four years apart as he pursued a different life and the first time you had hugged him when he finally returned, Gojo grinning over his shoulder… you think, that like had changed to love.
It quickly occurs to you that you weren’t pushing Nanami to experience sex for fear of him missing out. That was you. You were scared of missing out on him.
It’s that revelation that makes you pull back slightly, and Nanami’s eyes widen a little, some of the hazy fog clearing. His hand slides from the back of your neck, falling limply against the couch next to your thigh. 
“I… I shouldn’t have put you in this position,” you mutter, glancing away, staring at the two wine glasses on the coffee table before looking back at him. “It’s your choice. Your first time should be on your terms, not because I think you’re missing out or depriving yourself.”
You go to remove your hand from his, but once again, his grip tightens, but there’s a tenderness to it this time. A gentle squeeze, almost begging you not to go. Not yet. 
He looks serious now, staring at you squarely, as if about to deliver a mission report, and its the first familiar expression you’ve seen on his face thus far. He swallows thickly, the only thing belying his hesitation. 
“I said I couldn’t have a one-night stand.” 
You frown. “And th-“
“I don’t want this to be a one-night stand.” 
Some of the breath flees your lungs as you look at him. His lips are still pink and slightly swollen from kissing, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the wine and your touch. You become distinctly aware of the scent of his cologne, faded but warm from his skin. It’s soft, smoky almost. You have the urge to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathe.
You know what he’s trying to say, what he’s trying to ask. You know what he wants because you want it too. You realise you’ve wanted it for a long damn time. 
Words fail you. They feel… inadequate to describe what you’re feeling, what you desire, what you’ve always desired buried down underneath the guilt and trauma. 
But you still can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not here. Not yet. 
And neither can he.
You’re not sure who makes the first move, all you know is that your lips are pressed against his and he moans into your mouth as if something had finally let go. It’s like a cork had finally been released, a lifetime of pent-up feelings pouring out in one gush. 
His hand is back at the nape of your neck, holding you tightly this time, unwilling to let go. His lips part more readily with every press, his tongue seeking yours with a pinpoint determination. You skip his jaw this time altogether, aiming straight for his hair that you’ve been dying to touch since… you don’t know when. 
The hand that had been holding yours hostage finally releases, only so his fingers can brush against your waist. His fingers brush against your ribs through your clothes, tugging you closer until you’re rising up onto your knees on the couch just to oblige. He’s tilting back, his broad shoulders bumping against the couch cushions behind him - and it’s only distantly you register it’s because you’re pushing him back against it. 
Something shouts at you in the back of your mind to take your time, to savour this, to savour him. You may want each other badly, but this is Nanami’s first time. It should be done carefully, respectfully, the way he would treat you if this position had been reversed. 
But then Nanami’s hand has moved from your waist to your thigh, blindly grabbing it as he pulls it over his lap. Before you know it, you’re straddling his hips with a huff against his lips, and something like a sharp, pained groan leaves his lips. 
You pull away from his lips with a ragged breath, concern knitting your brow until you realise what the cause of his groan was. 
Straddling him, you can feel the pulse of his desire underneath you, the hard ridge of the bulge in his pants pressing insistently against your core through your own clothes. One hand is grabbing your hip tightly, almost too tight, as his forehead rests against your shoulder. The other hand is on your thigh, his thumb digging into the plush flesh there. 
His breathing is ragged, extremely so. Hot puffs fall against your skin. You weave your fingers through his hair softly, and you watch with reverence as a strong shudder rolls down his spine in response.
“We can stop, if you’d like,” you murmur against his ear, going to rise up on your knees to give him a little breathing room.
“Don’t,” he grunts, the grip on your hip and thigh quickly stopping you. He exhales again, a shaky sound as he keeps his forehead stamped against your shoulder. His voice emerges again, barely audible, slightly pained. “...I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Your grip in his hair tightens in response. In a flood, memories of him rush through your mind. A thousand different glances, subtle touches, small clues. Even in school, the way he would linger, a touch closer every time Suguru or Satoru would appear. The hand at the bottom of your back in a restaurant. The way he would lean in to hear you in a crowded place. 
The way his arms had tightened around you when he had returned after four years away. I missed you too, almost inaudible against your ear. 
Nanami didn’t want a one-night stand. What was the point of sex at all, if it wasn’t with you? 
The thought has you rolling your hips down against his before you can stop yourself, feeling the firm length of his cock grind against your core. A moan leaves your lips, and something guttural leaves his. 
The hand on your thigh moves up to your other hip, pulling you down tighter against him as if he could slide inside you right now. “Don’t tease,” he hisses between clenched teeth. He turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against your neck. He leaves a searing, open-mouthed kiss against your pulse point. “Not now, not after this long.” 
“You think you’re the only one who waited?” You pant as you grind again, firmer this time. His hips buck against yours in response, a muffled groan leaving his lips, imprinted against your neck. You can feel his cock throb against you, twitching against the fabric that separates you. 
“…you wanted this too?” He breathes out after a moment. 
You nod, though you doubt he can see it from the way his face is buried against the crook of your neck. “Since you came back. Since you hugged me back and said you missed me.” 
His hands move from your hips to wrap tightly around your waist as if he couldn’t bear for a single slither of space to be left between you two. His hips jut up against you once again, a ragged breath leaving his lips. It seems the idea of you wanting him for so long the same as he had the same effect on him as it had on you. If not more. 
He holds you a little tighter, running the sharp point of his nose along your throat as he tilts his head up. Finally, finally, he breaks free of your neck to look up at you, lips parted, eyes almost desperate. 
With a thick swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing, he goes to say something but falters, and murmurs your name instead. His dark eyes flick between your eyes and your lips. His cock twitches underneath you. 
“Please,” is all he can croak out, and the moan that almost leaves your lips would have been primal. 
You nod your head, giving his shoulders a small squeeze, pushing him back slightly. He seems reluctant to let go, but finally relents after a little insistence, reclining back against the couch. His arms unwind and his hands drop to your hips. He looks up at you, clearly waiting for your lead. 
You sit back slightly on his parted thighs, the muscles firm and supportive underneath you. Letting your hands fall from his shoulders, you drag your fingertips slowly down over the expanse of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his wrinkled shirt. As your fingers skate over his abdomen, you feel the muscles flex and roll. Nanami looks at you readily. 
“We should do this properly,” you murmur, your eyes trained on the lower buttons of his shirt, near the waistband of his slacks. “In a bed.” 
Nanami, to your surprise, shakes his head quickly, giving your hips a small squeeze. “We’ve waited long enough.” 
You raise an eyebrow but don’t disagree. Despite the need, the ache, the pulse of your own core, you can’t help but think of if the positions were reversed. The image of candles, roses and soft music fills your mind, Nanami’s guiding hands and murmured praises. It would be slow and romantic. Perfect. 
“Nanami,” you breathe out, almost chastising. With the way his cock is pressing against you, you have no doubt he’s not thinking clearly right now; the thought of having what he had wanted for so long within his grasp clouding rational thought. 
He shakes his head again, a lock of his mussed hair tickling his brow. “Next time.” He shifts, sliding down the couch a little more and spreading his thighs - and in turn, spreading yours. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you a little closer until you’re seated right on top of him. “Next time,” he repeats in a groan. “We’ll go slow. I’ll explore every inch of you, taste you. Now, I just want…” He exhales an unsteady breath, sounding like your name. “I just want you.” 
Your fingers linger near his shirt's lower button, and one of Nanami’s hands unclasps itself from your hip to gently grasp your wrist. He guides your fingertips to the belt buckle, the metal cool against your hot fingers. 
You meet his eyes once more, and his gaze is a paradox of firmness and vulnerability. He’s nervous, you think, but ready. Almost desperately so. 
Without another word, your other hand reaches down to join your other one, and your fingers are surprisingly deft as you slide the leather through the metal. Nanami watches your hands with rapt attention until the belt is loose. Your fingers slide over the metal button of his slacks, and you don’t check in this time. You pop it open before sliding his zipper down, the crackle of the metal teeth as loud as a gunshot between you.
A small sigh of what you think is relief leaves his lips as the fabric parts, giving you a small glimpse of the dark boxers underneath, straining over his cock. A small wet patch blooms at the top, wear his tip would be, and a shudder runs through you. 
Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his underwear, lingering for a moment. You look up at him at the same time he looks up at you. Without a sound, Nanami lifts his hips and you rise up to your knees. 
With a few firm tugs, you manage to inch his slacks and boxers down enough to free him. A small huff leaves his lips as the cooler air of the apartment hits his overheated flesh, and you watch in rapt attention as his cock twitches, the flushed tip glistening already.
It’s longer than you expected. Thicker too. Uncut. A prominent vein runs up the underside of it, and you have the sudden urge to follow it with your finger, or your tongue. 
Nanami shifts underneath you, and you realise you’ve been staring a touch too long.
You pull your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes, and his breathing seemed to have quickened. Anticipation is making him stiff, almost antsy, a rare sight on a man you’ve rarely ever seen anything of other than composed. 
It’s endearing. 
Reaching down, you satisfy your own urge and run your fingertip up his shaft, following the vein, feeling it pulse steadily to the rhythm of his heart. Nanami’s hips twitch, his eyelids fluttering. Dark eyelashes tickle his cheeks.
When you curl your fingers around him, gripping him firmly at the base, his eyes shoot open, snapping to the sight of him in your palm. You give him one pull upwards, and a bead of pre-cum wells in the divot of his slit. 
“Fuck,” comes out in a very quiet, gruff choke. Your eyebrows rise in surprise, a small smile on your lips. Nanami didn’t always curse, and especially not like that. 
“Language, Nanami,” you tease, and his eyes flick up to you, something indignant and impatient in his eyes. You usually weren’t one to tease, and he wasn’t one to be teased. 
You continue to stroke him slowly for a moment, rubbing your thumb against the sensitive tip. You fingers quickly become tacky, the glide of your hand more fluid, until the lewd wet noise starts to rise to the same level as Nanami’s breathing. He grunts with every upward stroke, his hips twitching underneath you. Had it not been for your weight on top of him, you get the distinct feeling he’d be bucking up into your palm a little more eagerly. His head falls back against the couch, lips parted, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he relaxes more into the sensation. 
It occurs to you that you’ve seldom seen Nanami this relaxed. 
“Are you sure you want to do this here?” you ask, “with me on top?” 
He nods but doesn’t open his eyes. His hands run up from your hips to your waist, a soft caress. “It’ll be… easier for me- hah-“ Another choked groan leaves his lips as you give the head of his cock a small squeeze, and Nanami’s hand flies to your wrist in a blink, stopping you from making another move. 
You feel his cock throbbing in your grasp, and Nanami’s straight-up panting now, his eyes slightly wild as he tilts his head up to look at you. It’s an arousing reality to know that you had just pushed Nanami dangerously close to the edge without even meaning to. 
“I won’t last,” he murmurs, looking up at you, his eyes shining.
 You realise quickly that he’s actually asking a question. Are you sure? 
“This time,” you reply with a small smile. With his hand still around your wrist, you give his cock another squeeze, and he grits his teeth, that vein in his neck protruding once more. You can see the taut muscles in his abdomen flexing from where his shirt has bunched up. 
As much as the idea of making Nanami cum, right here, right now, appeals to you, you relent for now. You’d love nothing more than to watch him spill into your palm, to see the euphoria and bliss play out on his face… but that was for another time. The next time, perhaps. 
You release his cock, letting it fall back against his lower stomach with a dull smack, making him hiss through his teeth. Leaning forward, you brush your lips against his throat, nipping at the skin softly. 
You guide his hands to the waistband of your own bottoms, and he wastes little time in following your unspoken order. The press of your lips against his throat clearly distracts him, but he manages to pull down your clothes enough to leave you in your underwear. You kick them off the sofa haphazardly, not leaving his neck for a single moment. 
He catches you off guard when his hand immediately dives for your sex, cupping your heat through the dampened fabric. You stutter against his neck, gripping onto his shoulders for support in response. 
Your eyelids close, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you feel just how wet you are. “Nanami,” you gasp.
“Kento,” he whispers quickly. Once, then twice, he rubs his palm along your clothed pussy, something guttural building in the back of his throat as you buck down into his touch. “You’re… so wet.” 
The wet spot on the fabric clings tightly to your folds, doing very little to dampen the sensation of his touch. His fingers are exploratory, a tentativeness that belies his lack of experience with this, but his touch, the fact it’s him, here and now, makes up for it all. 
You can’t remember the last time you enjoyed a touch such as this. Not like this. 
Despite toying with Nanami’s cock until he almost burst, hypocritical impatience gets the better of you, and you remove your hand from his shoulders to tug down your own underwear, kicking it off to join the growing pile on the floor. Bare from the waist down, Nanami’s eyes roam over the exposed skin almost hungrily. 
Both calloused hands run up your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh slightly. You see his hand move for your pussy once more, but your fingers are curling back around his cock again before he can distract you. 
Next time, keep parroting in your mind. Next time you can both endure hours of foreplay; touching, kissing, tasting, the whole nine yards. You promise to make him cry out before he even sinks inside you, to run your tongue along every inch of his skin until you’re sick of the taste of him. You’d know he’d do the same. 
But you two had waited long enough. 
Gripping the base of his cock again, you brush it up against your heat, your own slick smearing across him. Nanami’s eyes almost roll back into his head, but he closes his lids before you witness it. You’re faring little better, the mere sensation of having him against you like this, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your clit sending you dizzy. You angle your hips, and just feeling the thick head press against the tight, slick ring of muscle is enough for a moan to already tumble past your lips. 
Something flickers in Nanami’s gaze as he opens his eyes again, honing in on the sight of you braced above him like this. He grips your hips, his touch light, merely supporting you for now. You look back once into his eyes, and go to check in just once more, but he leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s little more than teeth and raw need. 
His lips pressed against yours, you sink down, the wider head of his cock slipping inside you. Your lips part in a soundless gasp against his mouth, swallowing the ragged groan that leaves his throat. The stretch is slightly more than you’re prepared for. Distantly, you think, skipping foreplay wasn’t the wisest idea, but desperation, need, pushes you forward regardless. 
So you sink down further, inch by inch, and as he slides deeper and deeper, his grip on your hips grows tighter and tighter, until the force of his fingers dulls the ache of his cock kissing your cervix. 
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you finally bottom out, hips sitting on top of his. You realise you’re breathless, and that cowgirl might not have been the best position for taking someone of his size. Certainly not in one go, like you just had. 
Nanami is fairing no better. His mouth is agape, his biceps trembling where he clings to you. He seems dazed, winded, panting into your mouth as his arms wind against you. He pulls you forward, and you both moan as his cock seems to slide just that little bit deeper. 
You’re dizzy, strained, stretched out far more than you can ever remember being before. Your eyes are scrunched closed, your forehead knocking against his. Everything feels distant and muffled. It takes you a moment to realise Nanami’s muttering something repeatedly in fragmented gasps.
When you open your eyes, he’s looking at you almost panicked, his eyebrows knitted upward. His teeth are bared, gritted - and it’s now you notice that you’re clenching around him so tight that you’re not sure if you’re causing him more discomfort than pleasure.
You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath. You’re flushed, prickly heat blooming across your chest and neck. You shift a little, and something pained rumbles from the back of Nanami’s chest in response.  
“Do you want me to stop or-“
“Don’t,” he grunts, his fingers shaking against your back. “Don’t move.” 
The throb of his cock inside you is insistent, and it takes everything in you not to clench tighter around him in response. You know he’s close, dangerously close, and as much as you want to rise up on your knees and slam yourself down on his cock until he’s begging you to stop, you clench your jaw and relax. 
You bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly; small pecks and affectionate touches. He shivers, and his cock still pulses, but slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxes too, ragged pants dissolving into hot, muted breaths. His arms around you loosen, holding now, not gripping. 
“Tell me when you want me to move,” you whisper against his ear, pressing a small kiss to the lobe. 
He nods, brushing his cheek against yours with a soft sigh. His hand moves from your back upward, until he cups the back of your head, drawing your lips back to his. It’s a soft kiss, loving; slow and sensual slides of wet skin mingling with gentle exhales. Before you know it, and before he says, you’re rolling your hips greedily, just grinding against him for now. 
A guttural sound leaves his lips. His forehead feels hot and sticky pressed against yours like this, a strand of his hair tickling your cheek. 
You feel his thighs shift, widening as far as the slacks still around his thighs can allow, feet planted more firmly into the carpet. The first roll of his hips is disjointed, off rhythm with your own, but the slight drag of his cock against your walls has you moaning brokenly. The second roll, a little more confident, has you pressing your hips down to meet it, and your back arches like a cat.
“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice thick and throaty. You moan his name, wait for the third shallow thrust, and meet it. “You feel so fucking good.” 
He looks up at you like you hung the stars, his eyes widening at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips like a fractured halo. He loses his rhythm, but you soon pick it back up for him, starting to use your thighs to slide more eagerly down his cock. It’s still shallow, Nanami’s arms around your waist preventing you from really going for it, but you’re unwilling to part from the closeness for now. 
You bounce a few inches at a time, the dull clap of your hips and the lewd squelch of your hot cunt wrapped tight around him filling the air of the apartment. With each bounce, a grunt pushes out from his chest, hot breath fanning across your face. 
Nanami, though inexperienced, starts to let his body guide him. His hips buck up to meet you more confidently, and the growing force of his movements has you keening, fingernails biting into his shoulders. 
You look square into his hooded eyes, breath mingling, and see the flush across his skin, his lips glistening with saliva. You moan again, higher pitched this time, and Nanami’s next thrust has you jolting up a little, nose bumping against his. You clench around him again, and his brow knits together. 
“S-Shit,” he pants, his hips starting to jolt more readily, pushing a little too forcefully into you, quickly losing his rhythm. “I’m not… I’m not going to last…” His movements quicken, grow more erratic, and you’re not even sure he realises. “… you’re so fucking… tight.” 
The last part is little more than a throaty whisper, his voice cracking. You stop meeting his thrusts and instead, widen your stance, tighten your core, and let him take what he needs. The movement, though small, isn’t lost on him, and he looks up at you, emotion swimming heavily in his dark gaze. 
He thrusts up grow more erratic, sloppier, something like a grunt leaving his mouth with every dull thwap of his hips against your ass. His arms tighten around you, fingertips pressing into your skin. A groan, a hiss, and a swallow. The couch creaks and strains. 
“N-Next time - hah - next time… I want t-to feel you cum around me,” he pants, his arms starting to shake. “I’ll give you everything, anything, fuck, I-I’ll keep going until… until… God-“ 
He’s barely pulling out now, a mere inch is all he’s moving, the head of his cock bullying against the soft spot right next to your cervix. Choked, high-pitch moans are the only sounds you can make, and you distantly note you’ve never sounded like before. Not ever. 
You’re getting there, you realise. Not quite close, and definitely not as close as him, but the way his cock fits inside you, the slap of his hips against you, the way he’s looking at you… it’s pushing you there fast. 
But it’s not quite enough. 
“I’m close,” he gasps. “I… where…” 
“Inside,” you reply without hesitation. Something passes by his eyes, a small flicker of concern, perhaps, swimming in the sea of lust and arousal. You try to find your bearings enough to tell him it’s okay, you wouldn’t have taken him inside if you weren’t protected-
-but then his cock is twitching inside you, and Nanami is shaking, shaking underneath you, his thighs jolting, nearly bucking you off his lap altogether. 
With one last slam of his hips against you, buried as deep as he could possibly ago, a long, primal groan leaves him. It’s deep, visceral, easily mistaken for something pained - and it might be the most divine fucking sound you’ve ever heard in your life. 
He buries his face against your throat as his hips buck involuntarily a few times, and you shiver as you feel that familiar warmth bloom inside you. He’s giving you everything, or what feels like it. Your pussy flutters around him, and his fingertips press into you so tight you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises. 
His heart is hammering against your chest, the thump pounding even in your own chest. Ragged pants and a heavy quiet settles over the living room. His cock continues to twitch inside you, growing weaker with every thud of his heart. 
Nanami doesn’t pull his head from your throat for a long while, his nose pressing into your skin as he pants against you. 
After a moment, he finally swallows. “… I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I… I should have made you-“ 
“Shut up,” you murmur against his warm hair, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and his shampoo. He seems to get the picture, of what you were trying to say. He always did. “Next time,” you add anyway, just to be sure. 
He lifts his head from your skin, looking up at you blearily. You smile fondly as you see his face again, the harsh lines on his brow and his eyes smoother now, no longer creased as they always seemed to be. He looks… so much younger, you think, like this. Relaxed. Sated. 
You brush some of his sweaty hair out of his face, and his eyelids flutter at the brief contact. He seems exhausted, you think.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. “I don’t want this to…” His palm moves against your back, sliding down your spine. “I want you. Properly. I always have.” He swallows. “Always.” 
Your eyes soften. He looks at you expectantly, almost vulnerably. 
“You have me,” you murmur in reply, finally. “Properly.” 
A small smile tugs at his lips, and it’s warmer than you’ve ever seen before. Genuine. Light. It’s as if a decade of weight lifts from his broad shoulders, if only briefly. 
He pulls you close once more, his lips pressing against yours softly, lovingly, and the world seems to fade away. 
For now, of course. 
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masterlist.
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javiscigarette · 10 months
Text
Good Luck Charm
Joel Miller x f!reader (pre outbreak)
Summary: Joel loves the Texas Longhorns and you're just needy (someone please make an edit of him wearing any Longhorns merch im begging)
Warnings: smut (duh), established relationship, mainly just cockwarming, with a daddy kink, and heavy on the dirty talk, cream pie, ass play, whatever else I'm forgetting, no use of Y/N
w/c: 3.3k
A/N: Here's something no one asked for! This definitely isn't my best work but I'm in a funk rn and it's the best I could do! Also hello daddy kink apparently! Oh! And I hit 1k followers a while ago so thank you for that!!! So many hugs and smoochies for everyone ilysm guys 😚🫶🥰❤️❤️❤️ ALSO the AMAZING EDIT MADE BY @serenaxpedro !!!!
my masterlist
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There were two things that Joel loved wholeheartedly: you and the Texas Longhorns. 
Joel goes all out for football season. Each year, as soon as September rolls around, you rarely find him without his Longhorns cap on. In the car, it’s not music, it’s a live radio broadcast or a recap of the latest game. And God fucking forbid if you even thought about touching the TV on a Sunday or Monday night.  
And now It’s a Sunday evening in September and the Longhorns are playing, which means Joel is completely preoccupied.  
You waltz down the stairs and into the living room clad in nothing but his Longhorns t-shirt that ends at your midthigh. You find him sitting on the couch, a half empty bottle of beer in his hand with his eyes glued to the screen. He doesn’t notice you at first and you have to stand practically right in front of the TV for him to take his eyes off the screen. When he finally does, he rakes his eyes over your body, a crooked smirk spreading across his face when he sees what you’re wearing.
Thankfully, you caught him at the start of a commercial break. So, he leans back and pats his knee and beckons you over with a soft “C’mere pretty girl.” 
It’s the first bit of attention he’s given you all evening, so you happily bounce over to him and climb into his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and your arms draped around his neck. 
“You look so fuckin’ good in this, angel” Joel says, his voice already husky with arousal as he smooths his hands up your thighs. 
“Thank you, daddy” you whisper with an innocent giggle. 
He looks up at you and cocks an eyebrow. You’re no stranger to calling him that, but Joel usually has to spend a lot more time taking you apart for you to use it. 
“You gettin’ needy, sweet girl?” he coos, his hands sliding over your hips and over the curve of your ass. 
You don’t say anything, just grind your hips down harshly, moaning softly at the friction. Joel chuckles at your eagerness while palming at your ass. 
“The game is almost over, angel. Just one more quarter and then I’ll play with you all you want.” 
You huff in frustration. 
“But you’ve been in here all day” you whine. 
Joel laughs again. 
“I’ve barely been in here for two hours, angel. Think you’re just needy” he retorts, poking you in the side with a playful smile.
You huff again and tug at the curls at the nape of his neck as you roll your hips against his. 
“Please?” you ask, your voice drenched in desperation. “I’ll be a good girl and stay still so you can watch the game. Just wanna feel you inside me.” 
Joel eyes you and his hands tighten on your hips as you continue to move against his. 
“Can’t say no when you ask so pretty like that.” 
You grin ear to ear and Joel rolls his eyes. 
“Needy and spoiled” Joel teases as he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt. 
With his eyes fixed on yours, his palms slide up your thigh, leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake. He reaches the crease of your thigh and stops suddenly with a sharp inhale. He raises an eyebrow at you as he trails his fingers over the bare skin that should be covered by your panties. 
You look at him, feigning innocence as you chew on the corner of your lip to suppress a mischievous smile. He narrows his eyes at you as he slowly slides a finger along your already soaking wet seam. You’re far too wet and swollen just from sitting in his lap for less than two minutes. And when he slides a finger into your leaking hole, he can obviously feel it. He looks down and sees the wet spot that’s already forming on the front of his jeans. 
“Needy, spoiled, and naughty” he purrs, his voice low and gravelly. “S’that what you were doin’ up there all by yourself, babygirl? Stretchin’ your sweet little pussy so you could come down here and sit on daddy’s cock?” 
All you can manage is a vigorous nod, a needy whine, and another roll of your hips, trying to get his finger deeper inside you. He graciously slips in a second finger with minimal resistance and lets out a soft groan as your leak starts to leak past his fingers and drips to his palm. 
“Tell me how you did it” Joel commands calmly as curls his fingers and starts moving his wrist with languid strokes.
You whimper pathetically and clench tightly around his fingers as he slowly strokes your g-spot. 
“J-just on my fingers, daddy” you whimper while trying to grind your clit against his palm.
Joel hums suspiciously.
“How many?”
“Just shit – just two.”   
“Did you cum, babygirl? Did you cum with your fingers stuffed in your little cunt?” 
Joel’s voice is so low now, his gravelly timbre sending a shiver down your spine. You shake your head and whine again and nose at his neck, hoping that a few neck kisses might distract him. But of course, they don’t. 
“C’mon, sweetheart. Be a big girl and use your words” 
“No, daddy” you mumble, dropping your head to avoid his gaze. 
Joel moves a hand from your thigh to under your chin, tilting your head up and forcing you to look at him again. 
“Why’s that angel?” he presses. 
“Needed you, daddy. Couldn’t do it myself. Didn’t want to do it myself” you confess, your cheeks heating up at the admission. 
Even after all this time with Joel, he still easily made you a blushing, flustered mess within seconds. 
“My poor little baby” Joel coos with sarcastic empathy. “Just a needy little slut for daddy’s cock, huh?”
You nod shyly and tug at his hair again. Joel just smirks at you before focusing on the screen again. 
“Get it out then, angel. Game is ‘bout to start again” 
With a jolt of excitement, you scramble to tug his pants halfway down his thighs. Your mouth waters when you free his cock, his length hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your eyes flicker up to him and he looks at you through the corner of his eye, gives you a slight permissive nod then looks back at the TV. 
You move to hover over him before you start slowly sinking down on his cock, both of you moaning in unison at the sensation of him stretching your tight walls. It’s a stretch, it always is, especially when he doesn’t get the chance to open you up on his fingers. 
“You’re so big, daddy” you pant breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulder as you stretch yourself out on his length. 
“Don’t tell me it’s too much after begged to be filled, baby.” Joel chides. 
You make a small noise and double down on your efforts. You whimper softly as you start sinking again, feeling every single inch of him stretch you out your little hole so deliciously. You exhale deeply once you’re full seated. Joel lets out a quiet groan and tightens his grip on your hip. 
“God fuckin damn, babygirl” Joel says quietly. “Always so tight for your daddy.” 
Your sink your teeth into your lower lip, biting back a moan at his words, trying to prove to him that you can be good. It takes a moment for you to resist the urge to ride him, but soon enough the desperation melts into relaxation, the feeling of being so full of him satisfying all your needs. He’s not even fully hard yet and your walls tingle and flutter around him as he continues to swell inside of you. With a sated sigh, you lay your head on his broad shoulder, and you let your eyes close. He holds you close to him, a protective arm draped over you stroking your back absentmindedly. 
“S’this all you wanted, sweet pea? Just needed daddy inside of ya?” he asks, his hand still gliding over your back and occasionally squeezing your ass. 
You nod and snuggle up into him even more. You could die happy right here, stuffed full of Joel with his heart beating against your cheek, warm and safe in his embrace. 
There’s no resisting falling into the overwhelming sense of tranquility that settles deep in your bones. Your breathing starts to slow down as you melt against his body and your head goes fuzzy when you bury your face in the junction of his neck and inhale the intoxicating scent of fresh laundry mixed with his cologne. You’re vaguely aware that Joel is talking to the TV, the sound of his voice fading in and out of your head. But you don’t bother making any sense of the words. You just focus on the rumble of his chest as speaks. 
After a few quiet minutes, he reaches over to the side table to pick up his beer, jostling you around a bit in the process. You make a small noise at the movement, his cock sliding just a bit further inside you to press against that spot deep inside you. You can feel every twitch and surge of his cock inside you, your body responding with a fresh gush of slick to each one, leaving you dripping mess in his lap. 
Joel finishes his beer in two gulps and sets it back down on the table before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You’ve been good so far, staying still and not moving like you promised and the game is almost over. So, Joel decides to give you a little reward. 
He brings his free hand up to your face and traces the line of your jaw and cheekbone with a knuckle. You practically purr and nuzzle into the gentle touch. And as if he can read your mind, probably because he can at this point, he rests two fingertips, cool and damp from the condensation on his beer bottle on your lips. 
You automatically part your lips, giving him silent permission to slide his fingers into you warm, wet mouth. He can’t stop the groan that bubbles up out of his throat as you suck his fingers mindlessly, your cunt clenches rhythmically around him.
He turns his head away from the screen just long enough to see your eyes rolling in bliss under your closed eyelids with drool starting to dribble out past his fingers and down your chin. 
“Bein’ so good, pretty girl” he whispers, pushing his fingers further back and pressing down against your tongue, making a strained sound when you gag. 
“Sound so pretty too gaggin’ on my fingers like that.” 
You keen at his praise and reflexively roll your hips. He shushes you and tightens his grip on your hip, keeping you in place. You squeeze your eyes shut and pant against his neck when he resituates again, his thick head now firmly pushing against your sweet spot. 
You let out a soft mewl, the sound muffled by the fingers shoved down your throat. Joel hisses quietly when you dig your fingernails into the backs of his shoulders. There will be some pretty marks there in the morning. 
“Game’s almost over, sweetpea. Can you hold on for five more minutes? Can you do that for daddy?”  
You nod lazily against him and try to stay as still as possible. You want to be good; you really do. But it’s a herculean effort with him buried so deep inside of you, pressing against all the right places. 
Joel slowly slides his fingers out of your mouth and shushes you again when you whine quietly. You open one eye to watch as he lowers it behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing but your certainly feel it when he spreads your cheeks with one hand and feels where you’re connected. 
“Oh, baby” Joel sighs, feeling how much you’re leaking out around him. “Making such a mess, sweet girl.” He whispers roughly. 
He gathers some of your slick on his already spit-soaked fingers before moving his finger higher to circle your tight hole. 
“Daddy!” you whine, lifting your head in surprise to look at him. 
“Hush, baby” Joel commands. He doesn’t even look at you as he cradles the back of your head with his freehand and forcing you to rest your head back on his shoulder. He stopped watching the game a while ago, but he keeps his gaze fixed to the TV knowing that his lack of attention gets you all the more worked up.  “Let daddy play with his little toy.” 
His hand leaves your head and spreads you open once again. And all you can do is lie there, helpless, and desperate at the mercy of your lover’s hands. 
“You’re so naughty, baby” Joel whispers, as he prods at the tight ring of muscle. “All you little holes are so tight for your daddy. Just for me, huh?” 
You nod and open your mouth to speak but he starts pushing a finger in you and all the comes out is a wanton cry. 
“Jesus Christ” He curses when you tighten even more around him, absolutely obsessed with how your body reacts to his touch. 
You try your best to stay still as he keeps pushing his finger in slowly. But you keep clenching around his cock, and he keeps twitching in reaction creating a circular kindling effect that drives you crazy. 
“Can’t daddy” you whimper pathetically, breath fanning over his neck, hot and humid. 
“But you are, babygirl” Joel reassures, pushing his finger all the way inside of you, groaning at all the different ways your squeezing him. “Takin’ me so well sweetie��god you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” 
You moan again, the sound going straight to Joel’s ear and travelling down his spine as a hot tingle. You give an experimental roll of your hips, testing him and seeing what he’s willing to let you do. And he doesn’t stop you. 
With his finger buried in your ass and his cock stuffed in your leaking cunt, you start gently rolling your hips, gasping at the new sensations with each movement. Joel’s chest heaves with each breath as you slowly build up speed against him.
It doesn’t take long at all for you to find the perfect angle that lets you grind your clit down against the patch of hair at the base of his cock. It’s too fucking much to handle and the pool of molten liquid in your abdomen is quickly growing as you hurtle towards your release. 
“Oh, daddy please” you whine desperately between loud moans. 
“What do you need, angel?” Joel asks like he doesn’t already know. “Tell me. Tell daddy what you need.” 
You gulp for air, but you still can’t get a good breath. You’re so full of him. Every square inch of your skin is on fire now, every touch feels so good, his scent is filling your head and you can’t think straight. 
“Need – fuck daddy! – I need to cum, I’m gonna cum please let me daddy please” you babble, now clawing at his shoulders. 
“Shh baby it’s okay. You’ve been so good for me, lemme feel you cum all over my cock, sweet girl.” 
You moan in relief and start to allow the pleasure to take over your body. Joel watches in amazement as you fall apart on top of him when he barely even had to move a muscle. You keep your face buried in his neck and Joel groans at the sounds your making so close to his ear. You start trembling on top of him as your moans grow louder and louder, letting him know you’re seconds away from release. He keeps his finger inside of you and wraps his other arm around your waist, holding you flush against his body. 
“Lift up a bit, baby” Joel grunts into your hair. 
You barely hear him, but the last working part of your brain process his words and your body automatically complies. You press into your knees and your thighs shake as you lift yourself up off of him just slightly.  
The next second, Joel slams his hips up into yours, chasing after your tight, wet heat, already needing to be buried inside of you again. You scream as he pounds into you, his pace brutal and unwavering. Liquid heat surges through your veins and your hypersensitive walls grip him like a vice as the hot coil in your abdomen starts to unravel. 
Joel doesn’t stop as you start to cum. If anything, he speeds up. He punches up into your g-spot with each thrust over and over and over again, desperate to draw out your orgasm for as long as possible. More hot slick starts gushing out of you around him and Joel can’t believe how drenched you are right now. 
“There you go babygirl. Soak daddy’s dick” Joel rasps, his voice cracking as he starts to chase his own orgasm. 
The way he can feel himself move inside you, just a thin wall separating his cock and finger combined with the feeling of you sinking your teeth into his neck is making him absolutely feral. He’s only seconds behind you. He’s been just as affected, just as turned on as you this whole time. He’s just a lot better at hiding it. 
“You want daddy’s cum, angel?”  Joel pants, his eyes rolling back when you tangle your finger in the curls at the base of the neck and pull. 
You nod fervently and choke out “Yes, daddy! Please, want it inside” between long, loud moans. 
“M’gonna fill you up, sweet girl. Have so much for you. Just for you, baby.” 
You cry out at Joel’s promise and tug even harder at his hair and suck at the skin between your teeth. That’s all it takes for him to break. His fingertips dig into your ribs, and he pulls you down on top of him then empties himself inside you, unloading ropes and ropes of hot cum into your awaiting pussy. He holds you impossibly close and gives your moans a run for their money with the sounds he makes. 
“Baby, baby jesus fuck you’re so good” Joel huffs as you continue to move your hips, riding out and extending both of your orgasms for as long as possible. 
You’re both completely unaware of how much time passes as the two of you sit there, panting and trying to catch your breaths. Joel moves his hand from your waist to your hair, gently stroking and grunting softly as you keep spasming around him as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through your body. He brushes the hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear so he can get a good look at your face, your eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together and your mouth hanging open as small whimpers tumble past your lips. 
“You look so pretty all fucked out like this, baby” Joel murmurs. 
You slowly open your eyes and look up at him with hooded lids. He gives you a soft smile that heats you from the inside out and fills your heart with a warm fuzzy feeling. You give him one in return, the corners of your lips curling up into a crooked grin. 
“Thank you, daddy” you mumble, your voice rough and ruined. 
“Anything for you, sweet girl” Joel says quietly as he cards his fingers through your hair. “Anything.”  
He looks at you for a few more moments, wishing he could burn the image to the inside of his eyelids to look at forever. But the sound of the announcers on TV catch his attention and he flicks his eyes to the screen. 
He looks back at you with a wide, giddy smile. 
“Did we win?” you ask, your words slow and syrupy. 
“Sure did, angel” Joel says happily before leaning down to place a kiss to your temple. “You’re my good luck charm, baby. Think you need to do that for every game from now on”
You giggle and let your eyes slip close again, finally fully satisfied. 
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Thank you for reading!! please let me know if you liked it I need extra validation rn
2K notes · View notes
nagichi-boop · 1 year
Text
SHADOW IS WRITTEN SO WELL IN THE MURDER OF SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!!
First of all, just him showing up to Amy’s party is a step up from his recent “I will do everything myself, I hate everyone, imma fight you” attitude that we have seen. Secondly, and idk if it was intentional, but him attending shows he cares about Amy. He’s always had a special place for her after the events of SA2, so it’s nice to see him showing up for something that maybe isn’t his style for her sake. (Parties aren’t really his thing, after all.)
SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT
It’s also really sweet of him to go through so many lengths to try and get Amy’s present. I definitely don’t think he forgot to get her a present, he genuinely just didn’t seem to know that it was a social norm to bring presents to a birthday. If he really didn’t care, he either wouldn’t have gotten her anything or he would’ve given her a rushed gift. But no, he went through a lot of effort, basically foregoing the game, just to stall Amy so he could get her a present she would enjoy.
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And not just any present - he remembered her mentioning a specific band she liked and that she hadn’t seen them live. This not only suggests he listens to her and remembers what she tells him, but also implies that he has had multiple conversations with her. Clearly he must have also done some research too since he knew that the tickets were going live soon. He thought this through, even if it was a bit last minute, and did his best to get the tickets (even though he admits to not being the best with computers, which is also nice because usually Shadow just insists he’s the best at everything). I also think it was sweet that he didn’t heavily protest Amy’s suggestion to see the band together. He hesitated, but then yielded. This…for a character who recently has been written to be quite selfish.
He seemed upset that he couldn’t keep this a surprise, but he also didn’t become enraged or lash out at Tails and MC/Barry. In fact, he didn’t really lash out at anyone at any point which is refreshing, since in most Sonic media that’s his go-to emotion.
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Most of his expressions throughout the game are fairly gentle in fact. Sure, he doesn’t smile, but he also isn’t actively angry. And the one expression where he does seem a bit negative just seems like his resting expression, or at absolute worse just a little annoyed. He’s very mellow throughout the game and it’s refreshing.
Even after he has finished talking to Amy, Tails and MC/Barry, he offers to stay with them and help them with the investigation. Normally in Sonic media, Shadow has no interest in helping others and only really cooperates if there’s a mutual goal/interest. And even then, he tends try to do things on his own. But in this game? He actually cooperates, and what’s more, he goes out of his way to offer his help.
So far I’ve mostly talked about his attitude towards Amy. But what’s his attitude towards Sonic? People debate back and forth on whether Shadow hates Sonic and the recent games and media have made it seem like he does hate Sonic. But in this game? I wouldn’t say so. I mean, he’s literally hanging out with him and his friends and instead of having beef with Sonic, he just focused on making Amy happy. And even when the situation gets more dire and Sonic is found to be knocked out, he doesn’t make any snarky comments or anything. In fact, he actually helps to tend to Sonic’s condition, even if it was just checking his pulse. If he rly didn’t care, he would’ve left it to everyone else.
Man, I could talk for hours about Shadow in this game. I can’t believe this April Fools prank game is actually the best characterisation for Shadow we’ve had recently. He’s not overly aggressive, he isn’t selfish, he isn’t super edgy. He is still sorta cold, but he’s not rude or mean. He’s actually really kind (in his own way), putting his needs and desires on hold to make Amy’s birthday fun and to help everyone out. I seriously hope that Shadow is written more like this in the future and not like he has been. Maybe Sega wasn’t joking about taking on board the complaints of the fandom.
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bonny-kookoo · 2 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | In Motion
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Moving on is scary. Moving back won't bring you forwards. But moving with someone at your side can be exciting.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, MCs Ex, police, Jungkook being the victim of bullying (dw), fluff?, nsfw but it's very light (sorry)
Length: 6k words
-> Masterlist
There is no taglist for this fic.
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“Its funny how a woman can change a man.” Yoongi mentions, sitting at the big company dinner next to Jungkook, who's both visibly distracted and upset to be present, phone being checked every few minutes or so- and Yoongi knows who he might be texting with. “why didn’t you bring her along?” He wonders, while Jungkook sighs.  
“I’m actually not sure.” He admits. “I’ve been given a plus-one like always, and I planned on inviting her- but then I.. chickened out.” He shakes his head. “these events are boring as hell.” He says, eating his food with not much interest.  
“What is she doing at home instead?” Yoongi asks, setting his own cutlery aside as he’s finished his plate.  
“Cooking. She sent me a picture of some.. macaroni and cheese she made from scratch.” Jungkook smiles to himself as he thinks to the image you’ve sent him with multiple excited emojis to convey your happiness over it- having tried to wing it for the first time. “now she’s most likely watching her favorite show since it’s Tuesday.” He shrugs.  
“Wow.” Yoongi jokes. “That’s so much more exciting, damn.” He flatly tells his friend, who rolls his eyes. “Jungkook, have you actually asked her if she’d ever want to tag along?”  
“…Yes.. and she said she wouldn’t mind..” He admits shamefully so.  
“Then bring her next time. You act as if you and her are George and Maria over there. You’re not sixty for God’s sake, and she didn’t turn legal yesterday either.” Yoongi shakes his head with laughter, amused by his best friend. He’s noticed the change in him pretty much immediately after the younger guy had returned from his vacation and days taken off- looking almost ten years younger, happy and most of all carefree. There was no worry on his face, no thoughts wrinkling his brows, no annoyance and clear signs of boiling burnout left.  
“I.. want to ask her to move in with me.” Jungkook admits suddenly, staring at his food. “I know it’s a bit fast but.. I feel like this time, she really is the one for me.” He tells his friend, who shrugs.  
“Its your decision. I’m happy you found someone good.” He simply answers him, refusing to really help in that regard. Jungkook can make this decision all by himself, after all. 
And he should. 
Back at his place, where he puts the car keys on the kitchen counter before he unbuttons his shirt to get ready to shower, he takes a small look around. The cooking utensils he bought just for you are still here, and so is your favorite blanket. The pillows he got are littering the couch, and yet, only you are missing.  
You’re missing.  
Even though you’re technically not even meant to be here all the time yet.  
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Jungkook has become.. suspicious, to say the least.  
You’ve been together for a few months now after all, and ever single one of them, for the same week or so, you vanish out of sight. And he’s not stupid. 
He knows you don’t have an affair with someone else, or your work simply always calls you in during that time, because he knows you escape his sight even when you have days off. No, he knows exactly what it is, and he honestly doesn’t really know why you do it.  
Do you think it grosses him out? Or that he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Knowing you at this point, he might just be right.  
But he also can’t force you to come out and be with him during that time of the month if you don’t want to. You have to want this all by yourself, because otherwise, how can you both build a relationship that’s not the same as your past? He’s not that much better from your past boyfriend if he was to just overstep a boundary you clearly still have.  
Back at work in his private office, he contemplates on messaging you. That could help, right? He types out a simple message, letting you know that if it really is what he thinks happens every month, then you don’t have to be worried at all.
He doesn’t mind. At all.  
So he just texts you- tells you that if you ‘need anything at all’, he’d just bring it over and leave you be if that’s what you’re most comfortable with. However, instead of just texting back, you call him- making him wave towards his secretary in a manner that shows her he is for now unavailable unless urgent. “Well hello, darling.” He chuckles when he picks up the call, unaware that on the other end, his words still make you horribly shy.  
“Sorry for not.. Uhm.. You know, calling you or anything.” You say, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.  
“It’s no bother. We’re both still getting used to things, after all.” He reminds you. “Though I’d love some sign of life every now and then in the future. Just a quick ‘hey, I’m doing ok’ is really enough for me.” He offers.  
“Sorry. I’ll think about it from now on.” You say, though Jungkook is pleased to hear that you don’t just do it out of submission- but that it sounds a lot more like relief, almost. As if you’ve waited for him to say this. “But uhm.. What do you mean by, ‘if I need anything’?” You wonder.  
“I’m assuming you avoid me every month due to your period.” He says, and you just meekly answer with a sigh, and a ‘yeah’. “It’s no bother to me, really. It’s not gross or whatever you might think.” 
“I’m just.. Moody and stuff. I’m worried I might.. I don’t know, be mean to you on accident.” You warn him, and he just laughs it off.  
“I’m not that fragile, love.” He jokes. “And I doubt that you’ll end up calling me an asshole every second of the day if we spend time together.”  
“No, I’d never!” you defend yourself, making him chuckle. “I just get cranky, and I don’t know.. I might just get onto your nerves.” You warn him. 
“You could turn full on toddler on me, and I’d still take care of you.” He jokes. “I really don’t mind. How about we meet up later, and I’ll cook us something at your place? I have the weekend off, we could spend it together.” He offers, clicking a little through the rest of the E-Mails he has for today. “Or you could always.. Stay over at my place as well. You know I love it when you’re there with me.” He says. 
You really like his place. To the point, where you actually begin to miss being there, despite having loved your little apartment for so long until now. It’s odd how his house has become somewhat of a safe-space, even thinking about it makes you feel good. And hearing that he personally enjoys having you over as well offers you some sort of hope that maybe one day, he might even want you there permanently.  
What could living with him look like? 
How long until he gets annoyed with you? 
“I really like your home.” You confess quietly, and he waves off his secretary that’s about to knock- because he can feel he’s potentially at the very cusp of something. “Do you.. I mean..” You mumble, before you sigh. “Yeah sure, let’s uhm.. Spend the weekend together.” You tell him, and he realizes quickly that your tone is not very confident at all, despite the fact that you’re trying to make it seem like it is.  
“It could be your home too, you know?” 
He waits for you to answer, and he knows this needs some time to be thought through, but he truly believes that you’re the one for him. It doesn’t have to happen right away either- but he wants you to know that the option is there, if you’d like to take it someday.  
“I-“ you start, when he can hear your doorbell ring in the background. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, leaving the phone for a little bit, silence the only thing that Jungkook gets to hear. Your phone probably cancels out whatever quiet noise might be there, so he’s unsure what’s going on, until you return to the phone again. “Can I call you back later?” You say after a moment, voice almost whispering.  
“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately alarmed by your behavior. He presses for an answer by saying your name- but still, you don’t answer. Until you finally do.  
“He’s here.” You say, 
And Jungkook immediately grabs the keys to his car, rushing out as fast as he can.  
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Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected your ex to look like. But seeing him now, in front of your door as Jungkook walks closer, he feels his blood boil. 
The man is not quite as tall as he is just like you mentioned a few months back, but he’s clearly training for muscle. A very intimidating body, and the second the man turns towards him, he spots the things you’ve told him before as well. His facial features are a lot sharper than Jungkook’s, eyes dark as they muster him up and down, frown on his face. “What do you want?” He asks, voice deep, raspy. Most likely from smoking- cigarette smell still clinging to the man in front of him. 
“I’d like to visit my girlfriend, if you’d be so polite to make space for me to enter the door, please.” Jungkook speaks, tone held at a very specific tone as to not give away any emotions for his opponent to pick up on. 
“Oh, so she got a rich guy now.” Your ex says, leaning back, arms crossed- most likely to present his muscles, something that Jungkook thinks looks simply childish. “Tell her she owes me money. I need it asap, and she keeps avoiding me.” He explains, and Jungkook nods.  
“I’d love to tell her that.” He says. “But you’re still blocking the door.” he says, noticing both the very clear and sharp smell of alcohol, and the way he slightly sways a bit. 
It’s quiet for a good moment, both men staring each other down, before your ex moves to the side, though it’s clear that he doesn’t do it as to admit defeat. Jungkook takes the chance and knocks at your door now, prepared that your ex might try and slip inside the second you open it. “Hey- it’s me.” Jungkook tells you through the door, and at that, you open it just a little bit, like you’re trying to check if he’s actually there or not.  
Once you look at him, his entire face softens. 
You look like a panicked animal that just escaped a shot to the head, eyes wide, staring up at him. At the sight of Jungkook you instantly open the door wider to welcome him inside, and he himself is quick to shut the door right behind him, a hand having tried to keep it open last second. 
“I’m here now.” Jungkook reassures you while you cling to him, your ex having moved to knock and ring the doorbell constantly, angry about Jungkook’s antics. “Don’t worry. Let’s call someone to deal with him, and then we’ll go from there, alright?” He explains to you, as you detach yourself a bit, taking a few deep breaths at the instruction of Jungkook who’s still holding your arms as if to steady you. “Go sit down, I’ll make the call. Did he hurt you at all?” He worries, but you shake your head. 
“I didn’t let him in.” You answer quietly, and Jungkook nods. 
“Which is the best thing you could’ve done. Good job.” He praises, helping you sit down in your bedroom, as far away from the front door, which is still being tortured, as possible, before he walks back out into your kitchen, phone on his ear to call the police. 
It all happens a lot quicker than he would’ve thought- your ex having apparently had gone against some very important guidelines he’s been given after a more recent violent crime he’s committed. “You can file in for a restraining order.” The officer tells Jungkook who nods. “Judging by the fact that he’s known already, that might be for the best. Those people are too unhinged to really be trusted.” 
“Yeah, seeing him in person today has definitely made up my mind about some legal restrictions placed onto him.” Jungkook agrees. “Thank you for dealing with him so quickly.”  
“No problem. You two have a calm rest of your day.” The officer says, before they drive off, your ex in the back of the police car. 
The second he’s back in your home, having realized he actually knows the pin-code to your door, he carefully opens the bedroom door where you’re still hiding on your bed- and the second he nods, you get the message letting go of a deep breath, leaning against him the second he sits down on your bed. “The officer said we should probably file a restraining order towards him.” Jungkook tells you. “I think that’s a good idea as well. It would.. Definitely help me, knowing that he can’t get close to you.” 
“...wait- it’s Tuesday, you were at work-!” You suddenly say, realizing that he probably left work early just to be here now. “You can go back now, I swear I’m fine-” 
“The office won’t burn down just because I’m not there darling, relax.” He laughs, running a hand up and down your arm. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow anyways, and after that I’ll work from home for a while. So it’s not that bad, I promise.” He explains to you, who slowly nods. “And it was a family-emergency after all. They all surely understand that I suddenly ran off.” He jokes- 
Though you feel oddly emotional at the mention of that phrase. 
“Family emergency?” You ask quietly, and he nods, easily, as if it’s no big deal.  
“My girlfriend was in trouble. I’d count that as a family emergency.” He shrugs, and you look at your knees, unsure about what to think. “Which, by the way.. And you can totally say no, it would be completely fine-” He starts, before he continues his sentence once you look at him. “-but.. My parents might want to meet you.” He reveals, strangely... shy almost. 
“Might?” You wonder, and he nods, before sighing. 
“I might’ve let it slip that we’re.. Well, a couple.” He admits. “And I can’t help it, really.” 
“Can’t help what?” You wonder, making him play with the silver rings on his bottom lip. 
“I tend to.. Ramble on and on when it comes to you. So when they asked about you, I just.. I couldn’t help it. And now my family is very much curious to meet you.” He explains, and you smile to yourself. 
“Well.. I mean, I don’t mind?” You say. “What’s the worst that can happen, am I right?”  
“Oh god you don’t know my family.” He dramatizes playfully. “My mother can be a handful, and my brother will most likely just go on and on about some embarrassing stuff that happened when we were kids.” he groans, and you can’t help but grin. 
“Are you scared I might end up hearing something you’d otherwise keep from me?” You wonder, and he glares at you, before he suddenly smiles. “But really. I don’t mind meeting them, if you’re okay with that.” You say. 
And Jungkook can’t help but lean over at that to kiss your lips, realizing just how serious you’re both getting. 
“You’re the only one I’d ever want them to meet.” 
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Jungkook’s parents have never liked his ex wife. 
That’s information you’ve been told later that night before Jungkook had left to go home- and you’re unsure how to think about that. You feel like there’s now a standard you have to reach, and you’re not sure if you can. If you meet them, and it doesn’t work out, what will they think of you?
Your ex has never really let you meet his parents much- only fleetingly, when you met them by chance at the local grocery store or in similar situations. You know that Jungkook has a brother who’s been married for much longer than Jungkook has been- will he judge you for being so much younger than Jungkook himself? 
Will his parents think you’re not a good fit for him because you’re too young? Or do they know already? 
You’re currently washing dishes from the breakfast Jungkook and you had at his place today, when the doorbell rings. You’ve spent the night after admitting that you weren’t feeling good about sleeping at your own place after what happened, and he understood- happily telling you that you can always stay at his house for as long as you’d like. You wonder if he meant permanently.   
He’s been hinting at it for quite a bit now.  
A dog almost jumps up on you, another one following- two tiny whippets excitedly yapping at you, before a young man calls them towards him. Only now do you see three people entering the house through the front door- an older couple, and the young man who you assume owns the dogs, Jungkook standing on the sidelines, hiding his face in his hand.  
“Oh, you must be her!” The woman says, and you instantly know that she must be his mother. He inherited quite a bit of her facial features, though you can also see his father in him as well, the man a lot quieter than her, simply hanging up her coat before greeting his son properly. “Oh you do look young! But very pretty.” She tells you, before she tells you her name.  “When did you change the furniture? It looks so much brighter in here without that weird sofa in the living room.” His mother exclaims, as Jungkook enters the open kitchen.  
“I- mom, when I said you could visit I didn’t mean today.!” Jungkook almost whines, before he throws you an apologetic look. “And also, what are you even doing here?” He asks the young man who very clearly has to be his brother from visual appearance alone.  
“Hey, I gotta know who the pretty girl is who caught my baby brother’s attention!” He teases, smacking Jungkook’s back. “You’ve been going on and on about her, you can’t blame me for being curious.” He explains himself, before he reaches out to you. “Junghyun. Nice to meet you.” He greets you, before he boldly moves to take a look inside the fridge.  
It's odd how you just instantly know the dynamic of his family from this small interaction alone.
Jungkook quickly somehow gets his family to sit in the living room while telling them that he’ll make them something to drink, before he joins you in the kitchen again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when J talked to them yesterday that they would show up literally 24 hours later-“ he apologizes, but you wave him off.  
“Its.. not that big of a deal. They seem nice- and it would’ve had to happen at some point, right?” You wonder, and he nods.  
“Still, it must be at least somewhat uncomfortable. I know I’d like to be prepared to meet your parents.” He sighs, moving to make some coffee for his parents after pecking your lips once.  
“…would you?” You ask, and he turns around after clicking the right buttons on the coffee machine in front of him. “meet my parents, I mean.” You ask, unsure.  
“I.. yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck a little. “I’m.. I mean, I don’t know if they’re even aware that you’re seeing someone-“ 
“They are.” You admit. “they.. I told my mom. After we.. after Christmas.” You explain, and he listens with interest, letting you go at your own pace however. “She’s.. they both know you’re older, and my dad is not very happy about that. But my mom seemed welcoming of the idea.” You tell him honestly, and he nods. “they’re scared too, you know? After all that happened.”  
Jungkook nods. “I completely understand. And even without that-“ he shrugs. “-I guess any parents would be suspicious of a relationship like ours.” Be admits and you nod as well, well aware that your parents might not be as easy going as his are. “but well make it work. Right?” be asks, and you know what he’s asking.  
Not if you’re gonna make it work- but if your parent’s possibly being against your relationship could be a deal breaker for you.  
“Yeah.” You say, because you’re not going to let this be taken away from you, by anyone. You’ve had a taste of what your life could be like if you were to just let it happen- and you don’t want to hide away and be trampled over anymore. You want him, you want this life and this future you might have together- no matter what.  
And Jungkook can’t help but walk closer to you, kissing your lips while he tenderly holds your cheeks.  
“Mom, Jungkook is making out with his girlfriend instead of making Coffee!” his brother yells, and Jungkook leans back at that, jaw clenched and tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek while he’s got his eyes closed, having to restrain himself you imagine. But you can’t help and giggle at the situation- visions of what those two brothers might’ve been like as children filling your mind, curiosity growing.
What was he like before Evelyn? Before he married? Before he met her? 
“get out!” Jungkook barks, taking a towel from the sink to hit his brother with it, the laughing older male running off back into the living room, where you follow- carefully carrying the two cups of coffee Jungkook had forgotten in his playful rage against his sibling. 
“Thank you.” His mother says, smiling warmly, while his father only nods, face however gentle, and friendly. You sit down after that, in the corner of the sofa, listening to the two brothers fighting in Jungkook’s office, before his father speaks up.  
“My son mentioned that you two have.. Quite the age gap between you.” He says, and you nod. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asks, and you shake your head. 
“It.. Did. In the beginning.” You admit, his father now visibly interested in your answer as he didn’t expect you to admit something like that so outright. “I was worried that he might.. Think of me as childish. Or that our ambitions might differ too much, since we’re both at different points in our lives.” You explain, his mother now listening in as well. “I mean.. Let's just take family-planning for example. He’s a lot closer to settling down than I am, technically.” You explain, and his mother nods. “But I realized that, if we talk about these issues, we can solve them together. Make compromises, so we can meet in the middle, so to speak.” 
“Has he spoken to you about his.. Past marriage?” His father asks, and you nod. 
“I’ve met his former wife a few times. And I’m.. Somewhat aware of the things that happened in the past- though I’m sure he didn’t tell me everything yet.” You say. “And I respect that. We’re still.. At the very beginning of our relationship after all.” You chuckle a little, nervously, but suddenly, his father smiles. 
“Stop interrogating my girlfriend just because I’m not here.” Jungkook interrupts the conversation, protectively sitting in between his father and you- though that wasn’t the smartest idea, since his father just quietly pats his back rather roughly, making Jungkook complain in embarrassment. “What the fuck dad?” He asks, but his father just laughs. 
“Stop hitting him darling, you’re gonna break his back!” His mother complains, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of that petname- making it clear where Jungkook got the habit from, since he calls you the same most of the time. It’s cute. 
You’re happy to see that he has such a nice family.  
“So, when are you gonna bring a kid into this world, huh?” His brother asks shamelessly, making Jungkook choke on his water. “Hey, come on. I’ve got the second one on the way, you can’t make me do all the work here!” He teases, making Jungkook turn towards you. 
“I’m so sorry- if you want them to leave, just tell me.” He says towards you, but much to his dismay, you shake your head. 
“I don’t mind them.” You say, and his brother grins, before he leans forwards towards you. 
“Did you know that Jungkook used to be scared of the microwave-” Jonghyun starts, and Jungkook throws his head back, groaning in agony.  
All while you can’t help but be happy that his family seems to like you. 
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Later on, once they all left again, he talks to you once more in the living room after the dishes had been washed, and you both had gotten ready to just laze around and go to bed later. “I’m really sorry they showed up unannounced. That was terrible of them-” He shakes his head still, holding you in his arms on the couch while a random TV series plays quietly in the background, commercial break ongoing. “-and I’m also sorry I left you alone with them. I hope they didn’t interrogate you too hard.” 
“It was fine.” You brush off, telling the truth. “We just.. Spoke about the age gap.” You explain, and Jungkook sighs. “And I told them that, you know, yes, it did bother me at first. And I know that it bothered you too.” You admit, making him stare blankly, listening to your words. “But that we.. Work together. If problems occur, we find compromises. Put equal effort into it so we meet in the middle, you know what I mean?” You say, and he nods. 
“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. What did they answer to that?” He wonders, but you shrug. 
“He just asked if I knew Evelyn, and I said that yes, I’ve met her a few times.” You remember. “And that I know you probably didn’t yet tell me everything, but that it’s fine because neither have I. Since we’re still.. Pretty new.” You offer. “And then you came back, so we didn’t talk further.” 
“My brother can be so terrible, I swear.” He huffs. “Two years older and thinks he’s always got the upper hand in everything..” He mumbles. 
“Well, from what I’ve been told, he is a bit quicker with things than you.” You giggle. “Second marriage, second child-” 
“Second job after he kept slacking off at his first, second house because he got kicked out of the first, second dog because one wasn’t enough-” Jungkook goes on, and you can’t help but laugh out loud. “-Hey, stop laughing about that!” He complains, moving his hands to pinch your sides, only causing your laughter to intensify as you try and slip away from him. But you’re unsuccessful, rather ending up somewhat manhandled down into the couch, with him above you, your wrists pressed into the cushions below you. 
It doesn’t take long for him to lean in and kiss you, the knowledge of everything that happened today settling in. You’ve been so understanding about everything, calm and collected even though he knew that you must’ve been at least somewhat intimidated by the whole situation. You still handled it perfectly in his opinion, facing it all head on. 
He’s so in love with you.  
His kisses slow down after a moment or two- and you know why they do. He’s not really a fan of getting heated on the couch of all places, preferring the bedroom or maybe the shower- and sure, you have indeed gotten rather scandalous in other places of his house before, but if he can control himself, he does.  
Laying next to you, your head on his biceps, he just observes you for a moment before he speaks again.  
“Move in with me.” He says, and you’re caught by surprise at the sudden proposal. “I’ve got.. Enough space. A room you can have just for yourself if you ever want some time to yourself. I can continue renting out your old place too if you’d like.” He tells you, hand resting on your waist. “Just.. I’d like to have you close. Every day.” He says. “And night of course.” 
“I mean.. if you’re okay with that?” You say, unsure. “you don’t have to do it just because.. we’re a couple, you know? I can be.. a little chaotic, and loud, you might not-“ 
“I wouldn’t have proposed the idea if I didn’t want it, darling.” He chuckles, easing your mind quite a bit. “Think about it though, before you answer me now. I realize I might’ve come off a bit.. strong with how I phrased it.” He hums, slowly sitting up again with you next to him. “What I really want to say is.. If you wanted to move in with me, I’d welcome you with open arms so to say.” He offers, and you nod.  
“I’ll think about it.”  
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“Hm?” You wonder still half asleep, Jungkook right behind you with his hands running over your skin, legs entangled and lips kissing the back of your neck.  
“You’ve been sleeping for ages.” He complains lightly, his own eyes barely open. “been waiting for you to wake up.”  
“..whats.. why?” You ask, moving a little to stretch your legs out.  
“hm, why..” he just repeats, hands traveling further and further until one of them finds its way beneath your light shirt you wear, bare chest warm beneath his palm. It’s clear to you now what exactly he’s been aiming for when waking you up- intentions obvious, especially with the way he presses himself into you from behind.  
You do have to admit, that it’s been a few days since the last time you two got together like this. With some stress at his work and your own life, you didn’t want to bother him too much- rather deciding to let him reach out on his own, so you know that he’s up for it.  
“You smell nice.” Jungkook comments, running his nose over the crook of your neck. “Is that the.. pink bottle you left here last time?” He asks a bit slurred, himself still somewhat asleep.  
“Hmhm.” You nod. “It’s.. yeah. I forgot it.” You explain, moving a bit to give him better access, and also to show that you’re okay with this. “it’s body lotion.”  
“smells better on you than it does on me.” He chuckles. 
“You used it?” You wonder, and he shrugs, before moving to position himself over you, reaching into his bedside table for a condom.  
“Hey you left it here!” He defends himself. “but it didn’t smell as nice on me.” He admits, shrugging before he moves to shed his cotton pajama pants- the shirt long gone, a habit of his during the night.  
“Well, now I’m here.” You say, and he nods, smiling.  
“You are.” He agrees, tapping your hips to make you lift them, his hands pulling down your underwear and sleep shorts off in one go. He gives the condom to you for now, before he lifts your legs over his shoulders, head lowering between your thighs to eat you out. He’s got a habit of holding eye contact with you during the act, and even now, he does so- soaking up every one of your reactions, eager to see you restless beneath his touch.  
This is the type of love he’d hoped for when he married. This is what he thought could grow from nothing.  
But he’s realizing now that that was a mistake- you can’t just hope for the best and then be disappointed when things don’t turn out the way you’d wanted them. There’s got to be effort put into it, and knowing that now makes him accept the fact that his ex wife isn’t the only reason his marriage failed. He himself also made mistakes, many of them- agreeing to going out with her when he didn’t love her being one of them.  
There’s no clear villain and no obvious victim in his story.  
Your skin is soft beneath his hands as he runs them up and down the sides of your legs- body squirming from his actions beneath them, as you experience things you haven’t before. You’ve never really had anyone ever pay so much attention to you in any way- be it sexually or just with the way that he calls daily to make sure he at least checks in with you whenever you’re apart. And thinking about it, there’s nothing speaking against living together- what's really the worst that could happen? 
You’ve been through the worst. You know that Jungkook would never be anything close to that. 
Your hand finds its way into his hair, unsure where else it’s supposed to go- and you’re faintly apologetic about the way you’re most likely tugging on it the second he pushes you over the edge- but he’s visibly uncaring of it, none of it bothering him it seems. He chuckles as he comes back up to you, wiping his face with his hand before he watches you open your eyes again to look at him. “You okay?” He chuckles, and you nod. 
“I want to move in with you.” You say, and he’s caught off guard, eyes wide for a second before he leans back a little to properly look at you.
“You sure?” He wonders, and you nod. 
“Hmhm.” You nod. “I.. Want to.” You tell him, and he smiles, clearly excited.  
“Okay.” He nods. “Okay! Yeah, we can.. Uhm, I mean, I’ve got the next week and a half set for home-office, so I can help you with the furniture?” He proposes, and you laugh, almost in relief, before he steals the still wrapped condom from your hand that's been holding it the entire time, face leaning down to kiss you.
"But first, let me love you some more."
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