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ode2rin · 7 months

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there sure is never a dull day in your life ever since you somehow bumped your head somewhere and decided to marry gojo satoru.

he was, without a doubt, the most dramatic man you'd ever known.

“why aren’t you obsessed with me?”

and here he goes again making your marriage life comically interesting from his never-ending theatrics that you can’t help but adore.

he isn’t gojo satoru if he wasn’t dramatic, after all. it was all part of the deal, one you gladly accepted, promising to be by his side in sickness and in health.

“good morning to you, too, baby,” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips. “what’s got you worked up this early?”

leaning against the bathroom door frame, his eyes fixed on you as you diligently performed your morning skincare routine. sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft, warm glow, making your features radiant as you applied your cleanser. and for a moment of sight, he got too lost in your beauty and almost forgot his plan of interrogation.

but still, he needs to get to the bottom of this. “listen, i’m not looking for an argument, just understanding.”

“okay, then,” you said, still attending to your skincare routine. “let’s hear this seeking of understanding.”

gojo’s gaze remained fixed on you as he considered his words carefully, “why aren't you obsessed with me like how i'm obsessed with you?”

“i’m in love with you.” you replied instantly, without a second in waste. because that’s how it has always been, loving gojo satoru and declaring it to the world was as easy as breathing.

you threw a side glance to your lover only to be met with glassy sky blue eyes looking at you and a pout telling you it wasn’t the right answer to the question.

“but you’re not obsessed with me,” he mumbles. “while i think about you every single minute of the day – in my sleep, in my lunch – i think about you, and i don’t think you think about me at all.”

“and where could this be coming from?”

“i was gone for 13 hours, and you only called me once. once, baby. do you even care about me?”

you attempt to explain, “you were on a mission—”

“i could have an injury,” he interjects, “i could have bumped my head somewhere, had amnesia, and forgotten about you.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the possibilities he laid out just because you only called him once. finishing your skincare with a swift application of lip balm, you make your way to your lover, who is now resting his left temple against the doorjamb while earnestly watching you with the same look in his eyes from when you walked down the aisle.

“i think that’s fairly impossible, though,” you muse. your hands naturally find their way to his neck. “my husband is the strongest.”

strongest in the eyes of sorcerers and curses, perhaps, he is. but here? with you pressed close to him like this? he was nothing of any sort the strongest.

“what your husband right now is not the strongest but an unloved husband who couldn’t get his partner to call him to check on him,” he teases, putting great stress on ‘your’ because he was, in fact, yours.

“aw, must have been hard for him, huh?” you coo, going along with his teasing, “what can i possibly do to make up for it?”

“you can start with a kiss here,” he gestures to his lips, and you gladly oblige with a soft peck.

“too easy. what’s the next step?”

“and i want you to be obsessed with me. call me multiple times a day. text me. email me if you want.”

“okay, done. do you want me to write you a letter as well, like we’re in the '80s?” you sarcastically replied.

“sure, i’d love that,” he says with a chuckle before pulling you close enough to rest your head in the crook of his neck, his jaw resting on your temple as he caresses your back.

you closed your eyes, finding comfort in his warmth, and relishing every soft little kiss planted on your temple, until you felt his head drop onto your shoulder.

“i think about you every second of the day,” he whispers right in your ear.

jokes of being obsessed with you aside, it was truly a confession.

you could be beside gojo, peacefully slumbering, and there would always be that wave of need threading in his chest to be closer to you.

and behind his theatrics, none of his words held any bite of hoax. because after all these years, it still wouldn't sink in to him that there was someone who could take him for a husband.

but you're here – waking up next to him, doing your skincare next to his own set of toiletries, roaming around the house wearing his shirt, gracing the quiet corners of his soul with your laughter.

you're here, and it's everything and more that truly matters.

as you reach to cradle his face in your palms, you feel a squeeze in your chest from how he closes his eyes as if melting in your touch.

“even after all this time? you might get sick of me, my love.” you ask, a smile so evident behind.

“never,” he declares against your lips, a boyish curl of his lips slowly showing. “you, on the other hand, might get sick of me soon. seeing that you couldn't even call me twice after those long hours i wasn't home.”

you playfully roll your eyes at his accusation, of course he wouldn't let it off that easy. “i promise to call you twice and text you as much as i can. how's that sound now?” you hum.

“promise?”

“i promise,” you assure, sealing it with a kiss on the tip of his nose, “and what do you mean, get sick of you? that’s nonsense. i told you right? it’s you for me.”

you for me. oh, how he likes the thought. sheepishly, he whispers in question, “even after all this time?”

“until the end of time, toru.”

until the end of time. oh, heaven and earth, how he loves the thought.

note. i miss him... terribly, i'm afraid. btw, here's a payback for all the angst..

#☁️ my ode to you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru fluff

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solarmorrigan · 6 months

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“You know, you’d probably be more comfortable in bed.”

Steve groans. Quietly.

“I’m gonna take that noise to mean, ‘Yes, Eddie, you’re so right, I should take my sick ass to bed!’, to which I am going to say, ‘Thank you, Steve for acknowledging how right I am.’”

If Eddie’s plan is to irritate Steve until he manages to get up off the couch and shamble himself to their bedroom, he’s on the right track.

But the thing is, Eddie is right (unfortunately) – Steve knows he’d be more comfortable in bed. The couch is too short and the cushions are too worn and the seats are just a little too narrow for him to really relax. But at the same time, the flu is trying to murder him, and he’s got a fever, and everything aches, and he doesn’t want to move.

Rather than explaining any of this to Eddie through his sore throat, Steve instead grumbles, “Your impression of me sucks.”

“Well, I’ll work on that while you’re resting,” Eddie drawls.

Steve manages a faintly agreeable-sounding noise and then pulls a throw pillow over his face.

“Steve,” Eddie says.

Steve doesn’t move.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again.

Steve is still not compelled to move.

“Steeeve. Come on.” Eddie reaches out to poke Steve in the side, who belatedly raises a hand to swat him away.

“Don’t wanna move,” Steve mumbles.

“You’re never allowed to call me dramatic again,” Eddie says.

“Mph,” Steve replies.

He hates being sick – really sick, the kind that his body just won’t tolerate pushing through. If he can’t pretend to be well, he feels he has no other recourse but to be dramatic.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Eddie offers. He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

Steve snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Eddie declares, and Steve has just enough time to pull the pillow off his face and look up before Eddie is scooping him up off the couch.

“What the fuck!” Steve shouts, arms locking almost instinctively around Eddie’s neck as Eddie gets one arm settled beneath the crook of his knees and the other around his back.

“Relax, we’ll have you in bed in no time,” Eddie says, swinging around to face the living room door with a grunt and trundling forward.

“You’re gonna drop me,” Steve says, winding his arms more tightly around Eddie’s neck; he’s pretty sure no one has picked him up or carried him anywhere since he was maybe eight years old.

“Ye of little faith,” Eddie replies, only slightly strained.

“Me of exactly the right amount of faith, which isn’t a whole damn lot, no,” Steve insists, ducking forward when Eddie lists a little too close to one of the hallway walls.

“You’ll be fine,” Eddie says. “I’m not gonna drop you.”

They reach the bedroom door and, as he’d promised, Eddie doesn’t drop Steve.

He does, however, whack Steve’s head on the doorjamb.

And then he drops Steve.

It doesn’t end up being much of a fall; Eddie only loses his hold on Steve’s legs, and with Steve’s death grip around Eddie’s neck, he mostly just lands awkwardly on his feet before tumbling down onto his ass with a thud and a quiet, “Ow.”

Eddie is on his knees beside him in an instant. “Holy shit, I hit your head.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. My head was the one part of me that didn’t hurt,” Steve grumbles, rubbing behind his ear, where his skull had connected with the doorframe.

“Oh my god, I hit your head,” Eddie says again.

Steve blinks at him. “Yeah, we established that. Did you hit your head, too, or–”

“Shit, shit, are you dizzy? Is your vision blurry? Wait, fuck, you’re not wearing your contacts – are things blurrier than normal?” Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve’s face and stares into his eyes, as if he’ll be able to tell that way if Steve’s brain has finally been knocked loose. “Do you feel anything, like, swelling? Bleeding? Leaking?”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t feel that sort of thing happening,” Steve says, and Eddie’s face crumples.

“Shit, you’re right, I should take you to the doctor,” Eddie declares, moving to stand up.

Steve grabs him by the arm and pulls him back down. “Eddie, I’m fine.”

“No, your brain could be leaking or some shit, and you’re gonna have, like, an aneurism, and you’re gonna die, and it’s going to be all my fault because I hit your head and I killed you,” Eddie rambles, shaking his own head.

Steve isn’t sure if any of that is even correct, but he’s willing to bet Robin has been sharing her worries about Steve’s head trauma with Eddie. “That’s not–”

“Your head is the one part of you we really can’t afford to hit!”

“As opposed to the rest of me?” Steve asks, one eyebrow raised.

“If it comes down to it, yeah!” Eddie bursts out. “Do you even know how many times you’ve hit your head?”

“Are you asking because you don’t know, or because you’re afraid I don’t remember?” Steve asks drily. “Because you weren’t even there for most of those times, man.”

“It’s not funny,” Eddie says, and he’s definitely trying to sound stern, but he’s verging a little bit on whiny; he seems like he’s starting to calm down, since Steve has so far failed to collapse and die.

“Okay, then, seriously, Eddie – I’m fine,” Steve promises. “You didn’t even hit me that hard, it barely hurts.”

“Steve, I love you, but you have a severely skewed sense of pain and should not be trusted to rate it on your own,” Eddie says.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine. Here,” he grabs one of Eddie’s hands and pulls it around to where his head had hit the jamb, “feel. Are there any bumps? Cuts? Anything seem out of place?”

With a frown of deep concentration, Eddie runs his fingers gently from the top of Steve’s skull to the base, occasionally pressing a little harder, but never hard enough to hurt.

“Good?” Steve asks, once Eddie’s had a minute to feel for himself.

Eddie’s shoulders slump. “I guess.”

“Ah, don’t be disappointed. Maybe it’ll be a concussion next time,” Steve offers.

Eddie shoots him a wildly unimpressed glare. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Steve decides, but he takes Eddie’s hand from his head and brings it around to press a kiss to the back of it.

There’s definitely a smile ticking at the corners of Eddie’s mouth, but Steve doesn’t point it out.

“Do you want some ice, or something?” Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head.

“What I want is to walk over to the bed and lie down, and I want you to come with me,” Steve says. “And in an hour, I want you to bring me more Tylenol and some of that really good tea that Joyce sent over. Deal?”

This time, Eddie does smile. “I think I can handle that.”

Steve smiles back. “Good.”

They get themselves situated, Eddie at Steve’s back with an arm slung over him, a single blanket pulled up to their waists (“Pretty sure you still have a fever, sweetheart,” Eddie had insisted. “You’re gonna cook yourself to death if you cover up.”), and in the dim, sleepy light filtering through their curtains, Steve presses back further into Eddie’s chest.

“I like that you care so much,” he says quietly, and Eddie squeezes him a little more tightly.

He shifts enough that he can press his lips to the spot where Steve had bumped his head. “Always will,” he murmurs, and hell if Steve doesn’t believe him.

[Prompt: Bridal carries]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #pretty sure steve's method is not medically approved for testing for head trauma but he's fine #solar wrote

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holybibly · 2 months

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BOTH | Yungi x reader

Genre: +18, MDNI, smut, fuck buddies, University!AU

Pairing: Ynho x reader, Mingi x reder

Word Count: 4.2 k

Summary: You've liked Yunho for a long time and don't mind having fun with him alone, but what if Mingi joins in? Well, you should play with both.

WARNING: light MxM, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.

Holy Bunnies Tag list: @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism

A/N: My precious bunnies are having a special day. I'm here to treat you to something sweet and savoury. It's not much because I didn't have a lot of time today, but it's my hope that it's to your liking. And I know it's been your wish to have me do Yungi. Lots of love, my bunnies.

dividers @cafekitsune

As you ran your hand over his head, Yunho's blond hair felt so soft and silky under your fingers. Your tongue curled around his in a seductive way as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling up the already short dress that you were wearing. The kiss was heavenly—sweet but passionate—and you felt a little dizzy, or was it the amount of alcohol you'd had? As you sat on the table with your legs wrapped around his slender waist, pulling him closer to his neck, your kiss grew more intense and sloppy with each passing second.

You hadn't expected the night to end like this. But you hadn't come here to argue. After a long dance that felt more like a dry hump, in the middle of a drunken house party you'd both been invited to by your mutual acquaintances, you'd snuck into an empty bedroom for a hot kissing session that promised to escalate into equally hot, and you really hoped so, rough sex. Hell, you really wanted Yunho to blow your brains out; you could already feel how big and thick his cock was through his jeans, and you hoped that the boy would know how to make good use of it.

You'd liked Yunho for a long time—sweet as candy, but with that spicy sugar daddy flavour—definitely your type, so the possibility of being alone with him tonight seemed like a dream come true. The scenario was perfect; you'd spent the evening teasing each other, and when his gorgeous, wiry hands went under your dress as you danced, you knew exactly where it was going.

You couldn't tell who had given up first or how you had ended up in this bedroom, but that was of little interest to you at the moment. Especially when Yunho's big hand began to massage your breasts through your dress, you couldn't wait to feel those long fingers inside your pussy.

Just as you were about to undo the waistband of his jeans, you heard the bedroom door open. As you glanced in that direction, you rolled your eyes in irritation and pulled yourself away from Yunho's soft, flushed lips. With his arms crossed over his broad, muscular chest and the tip of his tongue poking the corner of his plump, sensual lips, Mingi leaned against the doorjamb with a cheeky grin.

"Don't mind me. Keep having fun, baby." His voice was deep and husky, sexy as hell, and your pussy clenched involuntarily at the sound. Shit. Mingi, locking the door behind him, walked over to the bed and collapsed on it, resting his hands on the mattress behind him and spreading his legs apart, a mischievous grin playing on his handsome face as he watched you and Yunho, who, by the way, was completely ignoring Mingi's presence, now planting hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

Song Mingi was a narcissistic bastard who knew he was incredibly attractive and sexy. You wanted to slap him to wipe that smug look off his face. Or, more likely, ride his big, thick cock to make him whimper and gasp. And you knew from experience that that was exactly what he was going to be like—hot and completely lost in pleasure.

"Mingi, not right now." You told him, screaming as Yunho's fingers rubbed your pussy through your lace panties; you were already incredibly wet from the blond man's confident caresses, and Mingi's presence only made you even more wet.

"Oh, the doll is getting feisty, isn't she? Wasn't that the way you were talking to me when my tongue was licking your pretty, tight cunt, or do you need a reminder of what you did last Saturday?" He licked his plump lower lip and reminded you with a cheeky grin. All in all, you weren't in need of a reminder; the way you were rolling on top of his face would be hard to erase from your memory.

That seemed to have finally gotten Yunho's attention, causing him to pull away from your neck, and oh, God, you were in a panic; you wanted that cock, and you weren't about to give it up because Mingi couldn't control his damn mouth.

"I had no idea you and Mingi were... together."

You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes, getting annoyed. Fuck Song Mingi and his big mouth, and fuck you for even deciding to sleep with him last weekend. In your defence, you were very horny, and he looked like a wet dream in that sheer mesh top. And need you tell how juicy and delicious his thick thighs looked in those leather trousers that clung to him like a second skin?

Girl, there was no way you could resist that, even if you were a nun.

Fully prepared for him to turn and walk away, leaving you horny and unsatisfied, you looked longingly into Yunho's handsome face. But when you noticed that there wasn't an ounce of jealousy or annoyance in his features, you were genuinely surprised. His chocolate-honey eyes darted from you to Mingi, his eyebrows slightly raised in a silent question he didn't dare ask out loud. But the way his cock twitched against your thigh or the way his pupils dilated told you that Yunho knew exactly what he wanted. Oops, it turns out that Jeong Yunho wasn't as sweet and vanilla as you thought he was. And Mingi, well, Mingi was clearly the type with some damn spicy tastes.

"Since both don't care..." Mingi just shrugged his shoulders and got up from the bed to come over to you and Yunho.

And if you weren't reliving your most forbidden and wet dream right now, you wouldn't know what else to call it, because something about the way Mingi's long, ringed fingers grabbed Yunho's chin and pulled him in for a kiss clearly did something to you. Mingi's pierced tongue slipped between Yunho's slightly pink lips, and you were drooling, a new batch of viscous fluid pouring out of your pussy from the lewd show in front of you. The blond man's hands were on your body for a second, but it was only a moment before he responded to the rough kiss.

You knew how it felt. To see two fucking hot guys literally fucking each other in the mouth, and you were about to come just looking at that.

Mingi was the one who wanted to stop kissing Yunho; instead, he grabbed your hair and pulled you towards him for a hungry and aggressive kiss. It tasted like a mixture of champagne and raspberries to you, which was extremely sophisticated for Mingi's cocky appearance, but Song Mingi loved to surprise, and he was just as good at it as he was at fucking.

Without hesitation, you responded to the kiss and immediately let his long tongue enter your mouth and lick you from the inside out. Mingi's fingers tugged hard at your hair as he tried to drink your very soul through the bloody kiss, and Yunho's now impatient hands pulled your dress off your chest, the cold air of the room making your nipples instantly tense. You moaned into Mingi's lips as the blond man's fingers circled your nipple, tugging lightly. Watching the pink, swollen bud roll between Yunho's long fingers, growing harder and redder under his care, the brunet's eyes dropped.

His mouth filled with saliva and his cock twitched in anticipation; he could already feel pre-cum dripping from his swollen head.

"I must fuck you, or I'll lose my mind." Mingi growled as he pressed his forehead up against yours. You chuckled slightly at how quickly his insolence vanished as the prospect of getting his cock wet loomed.

"Guess you'll have to do that then, boys."

"Oh, that's exactly what we'll do, baby." Yunho whispered in your ear as he pressed his fingers to your clit. Oh shit. Was that honeyed voice always going to be so hoarse and dominant? God, there was a hidden threat in Jeong Yunho. "Bed, immediately." He ordered as he scooped you up in his arms and carried you over to the big bed that was neatly made up. You were already starting to imagine the mess that the three of you were going to leave behind.

Mingi was already sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed, and you pushed him onto his back, riding on his slutty, thin waist, trying to take the initiative, but he just grinned.

He grinned wickedly at your attempt at dominance, but let you do what you wanted. He pulled your dress off as you left hickeys on his neck. It didn't take long for you to be pulled up against Yunho's big, hot body, and the blond man greedily took your lips in a wicked, aggressive kiss. It looks like you won't be playing with him like a puppy tonight. While Yunho was devouring your mouth, Mingi was crawling off the bed to take off his trousers and his sleeveless top, which, in truth, left very little to the imagination.

"Oh my God, Yunho, I want to taste you." You said this as you broke the kiss and moved further down the bed, motioning for him to follow you. You pulled off his shirt and ran your hands over his smooth, milky skin, sure that by the end of the night you would have left him with countless hickeys and scratches as he stripped off his jeans and underwear. When he was comfortably settled on the bed, you found yourself between his spread legs and began to kiss his neck, slowly trailing kisses down the heaving ridges of his chest and below, sliding your tongue along the pronounced outline of his firm abs.

When your head reached his crotch, you looked up innocently through fluffy lashes, knowing exactly what drives men mad, and licked your lips hungrily, running your tongue in deliberate slow motion over the plump flesh, arching your spine as you arched your arse. Beautiful boys deserve nothing but the best service. And while you wanted to be bold and dirty with Mingi, you wanted to be a gentle and submissive princess for Yunho. To be showered with praise and fucked like there was no tomorrow. And that was definitely at the top of your list of things to do in life, at least for today.

Yunho stroked his big hand over your head as if he were caressing a kitten and pressed the back of your head so that your head sank down onto his hard, massive cock. And God, it was huge, thick, and wiry, with a big, reddened head that was already dripping with pre-cum. It was a real treat for an obedient girl.

"Come on, baby, don't be shy. Show me what a good girl you can be for me." You obediently hugged at the head of his cock with your lips, savouring the low, husky moan of his as your tongue circled around it and collected the brackish liquid. Your palm could barely encircle its length as you ran it up and down, feeling the heat and throbbing of his cock as you rubbed the thick, protruding vein several times. You smeared the pre-cum and drool that flowed from your open mouth onto his cock. Swirling your tongue around the velvet head to find out what he liked best, you concentrated all your efforts on that.

Yunho threw his head back, revealing the long, seductive length of his neck, and rolled his eyes in pleasure.

"Such a good girl; you'll let me fuck you in my mouth, won't you?" You moaned around him, sending pleasurable vibrations down the length of his cock, and relaxed your mouth to allow Yunho to push his hips up and push his thick cock deeper down your throat. As Yunho wrapped both hands around your head to hold you in place, you grabbed his hips and tried to find some stability, waiting for what would happen next. The next movement of his hips pushed the head of his cock against the back of your throat, and he let out a long moan as he felt your soft, wet throat tighten around him. The sound he was making was almost enough to make you come. "That's it." The low growl in his voice gave away the more sadistic part of his personality before he returned to honeyed tenderness as he held your face in place, pressing his balls against your chin. He enjoyed the way your eyes filled with tears and the soft gurgling sounds you made around him. "Take it like a good girl. You'd like me to be proud of you, wouldn't you? Then choke the hell out of it. Make Daddy proud." He moaned again as your hands dug into his meaty thighs. But Yunho was too intoxicated by the feeling of the walls of your throat contracting each time you swallowed around his cock to notice the vicious nail marks you left on his skin.

All of a sudden, you felt a pair of strong hands grab your hips from behind and dig their fingers into your soft flesh, leaving bruises in their wake. You were so lost in the way Yunho was fucking your mouth that you almost forgot that Mingi was there too. You didn't realise what you'd let yourself in for until Mingi's fingers started to pull your panties down until they were thrown somewhere on the floor. Your wet, pretty cunt was completely exposed to his gaze. As you felt Mingi's hot breath on your naked pussy, you couldn't hold back a loud moan. His fingers parted your soft pink folds before he took a long, slow lick of your pussy, his pierced tongue causing your hole to clench up from the action. A low purr vibrated in Mingi's chest as he tasted you on his tongue, weakly rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit as he plunged the tip of his tongue into your narrow entrance.

"You better squirt in my face, doll, or you won't get my cock." His plump lips touched your pussy with every word he said and for a moment you completely lost control, dulled by the sensation of Mingi licking and tonguing your cunt.

Taking advantage of your distraction, Yunho pressed harder his cock to your throat. You felt dizzy and tried to suppress your gag reflex as the thick, long cock plunged deeper. With each thrust, the outline of his cock began to bulge as he thrust against you. Yunho was definitely a wolf in sheep's clothing, and you thought Mingi had been rough with you the last time. The only thing that kept you motivated now was the gentle smile that flashed across the handsome face of the blond man as he continued to choke you with his cock.

And damn your praise kink, it made you want to give him even more pleasure. You wanted to be his good girl, the only girl who was able to warm up his big, fat cock so well in her mouth. And for his praise, as long as he kept looking at you with that gentle pride in his chocolate honey eyes, you were willing to let him get away with whatever he wanted.

You quickly regained your composure and relaxed your throat enough to let Yunho fuck you the way he wanted. You looked up again, looking for his approval, admiring the way he was breathing hard and hitching, the deep blush spreading across his cheeks and neck. And the way he was concentrating on Mingi, who was literally drinking your pussy as if he was dying of thirst. But apparently that's not enough for him, because you feel Mingi release your hips for a second, only for him to change position - and now your now swollen cunt is hovering over his face. A loud slap on your buttocks makes you whimper and drool all over Yunho's cock as he mercilessly fucks your mouth like his personal cock sleeve.

"Now lower your sweet cunt right on my face and ride like an obedient girl. Do you understand me, dolly?" The cold metal ball barely touched your clit as he spoke, his hot breath blowing around your folds. Mingi mumbled approvingly beneath you as you moaned and pressed your pussy against his face. "And remember baby. First you squirt - then I fuck you." Without warning, two long fingers with massive rings entered you, stretching your warm silky walls. Your pussy sucked them in with need as Mingi's lips encircled your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue immediately beginning to flick across the sensitive flesh. Oh, fuck.

The stimulation makes you almost buckle at the knees and pushes your cunt even harder against his face. Mingi is sucking hard on your clit, pressing down on it with his piercing as he continues to stretch you with his fingers, his other hand guiding your hips to help them roll over his face.

Hell, he might not mind dying between your legs; your cunt was so perfect—sweet and plump and pink, and God, he loved every moment of it. When his fingers found your golden centre and began to rub relentlessly, you rolled your eyes in pleasure and moaned softly. The vibrations of your voice made Yunho shiver.

Holding back a wry grin as he watched you gasp for breath, a mixture of saliva and tears dripping down your face, he finally let go of you and pulled you away from his cock. Yunho let you struggle to catch your breath, but you failed to breathe. But you hadn't had a chance to breathe when Mingi's tongue began rubbing against your clit with renewed vigour, causing you to roll forward, face against Yunho's thigh. "Look at you. You're so damn beautiful for us, aren't you? Pretty girl, you will do as you are told and come all over Mingi's face, won't you?" Yunho strokes your hair lovingly as he watches the brunette suck your pussy like a leech. The room fills with obscene slurps and squelches, punctuated by a mixture of Mingi's deep moans and your weak whimpers, and Yunho wouldn't mind taking his place now and licking you clean, and maybe he'll do it later today.

Mingi releases your clit from his lips to run his tongue greedily around the edges of your stretched-out hole a couple of times before he pulls his fingers out with an obscene squelch and replaces them with his talented pierced tongue, fucking you fast and hard until your walls are closing in around him.

"Oh, shit. Fuck, Mingi. Fuck!" You curse as you feel his plump lips curl into a smug and lecherous smile. He swirls his tongue inside your hole, dragging the metal ball on his tongue along your sensitive, trembling walls. He eats you like a fucking animal, growling into your pussy and thrusting harder, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" Yunho asks, licking his lips as if he's trying to taste you, and Mingi just moans in response, lapping up your juices as if it were his last meal on earth. You begin to feel the familiar tension building in your belly with every passing second. The sharp tip of Mingi's tongue pierces your walls, and his nose rests against your clit. Your hips start to shake, you start to stiffen, and your pussy clenches to hold the hot, slippery appendage inside.

"Damn, Mingi, I'll cum." You moan in a hoarse voice, and he slaps your arse so hard it makes you squeal. You can feel him grinning into your cunt before his teeth brush against your clit and he bites into a bundle of nerves in an experimental way.

You squeal so loudly that it seems the whole house can hear what you're doing, and to be honest, you don't really care. Let the bitches be jealous; the boys are yours. Right now, one of the hottest boys in the world is Song. Mingi is fucking your pussy with his amazing tongue, and the big fat cock of the most beautiful boy in the whole university is rubbing sweetly against your cheek. Mingi is purring softly, like a contented giant cat, as you rub your helpless body against his face. You flex your hips, squeeze his face between your legs, and force his lips into a curl in order to stimulate your hole.

The whole of your body was on fire and in the sky at the same time. Mingi's huge hands gripped the small of your back, and his own breathing became ragged as you rode on his face and shamelessly screamed out his name. Your whole body tensed like a cord; you sobbed heavily, the tears dropping from your face onto Yunho's thigh, to which you were still clinging, your thighs trembling with pleasure. You were nearing orgasm, the hot sensation of release bubbling under your skin like boiling water. As Mingi slammed the palm of his hand down on your plump buttocks once more, causing the soft flesh to tremble and blush, you came. The orgasm was absolutely devastating, with your juices pouring into his hungry mouth and Mingi gobbling them up greedily, but it still wasn't what he was looking for from you.

You had to squirt, and Mingi was not going to stop until you did. He lifted your hips off of his face, only to have two of his fingers dive into the tightness of your cunt. You gasped for breath and tried to pull away from him, squealing and biting at Yunho's thigh. With his other hand, Mingi pressed you against his face, while he continued mercilessly and roughly fingered your over-excited pussy, now flowing like a waterfall.

Mingi pulled away from your clit with a wet bang, then flattened his tongue and used a small metal ball to stimulate your tortured clit. You felt the onset of a second orgasm, and your walls tightened around Mingi's fingers, the heavy, solid rings pressing against your plush flesh. His wet lips and chin opened and closed slowly as he breathed heavily and continued to torment you.

"Come on, sweetie, squirt on his face so I can finally fuck you. Fucking princess, come for us." Yunho growls as he wraps his fingers around your cheeks and turns your face around so that you're looking at him. "Make your daddy proud." The tone of his voice and the demand itself send you over the edge of euphoria as you shake your whole body and experience an embarrassingly intense orgasm, splashing Mingi's chin and lips with your juices as he swallows them with a satisfied smile. Mingi presses your hips up against his face and helps you through a powerful orgasm, your eyes rolling.

Your eyes are rolling up, your mouth is opening, and your tongue is flicking out. You're so fucked already, and they haven't even fucked you right, but fuck you want them to, and even if you pass out somewhere along the way, you'll be riding their dicks tonight.

Mingi rests his nose against your pubic bone for a second and lets out a heavy sigh before he picks you up and climbs out from underneath you. He gives you and Yunho one of his stupid, drunken smiles and licks his lips in satisfaction. Your juices run down his face, neck, and slowly rising chest as he crawls up to your face. But instead of giving you the attention you crave, his lips press against Yunho's in a completely wild and aggressive kiss that can hardly be called a kiss—it's all tongues and teeth.

When Yunho pulls away from him, he curves his beautiful lips loathingly.

"You bastard."

"You're the one who wanted to know what she tastes like. I'm just giving you a taste of heaven." Then he leans down and presses her wet lips to the side of his ear. "The doll can suck your cock as much as you want, but I'm going to be the one who drinks her pussy."

"I think you should stop measuring dicks and give me a good fuck instead, or should I find someone else to do it with?" You raised your head to look at them. Seeing the shocked look on their pretty faces after your words, a small smile formed on your lips.

"Looks like the doll is getting a little cocky, huh?" Mingi said to you as he pulled your boddy up to his chest.

You could feel Yunho's lips pressing against your ear before he whispered to you in his honeyed, sultry voice.

"Baby, if you misbehave, I'll have to punish you, and I have a feeling you won't be able to walk by the time I'm through with you."

"We'll be done." Mingi corrected him.

"Well, I guess I should just keep going and see what you can do. Because I'm pretty sure I can handle both of you."

1K notes · View notes

ki-yomii · 10 months

Text

two for the show | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader

➥ word count | 2.1k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, established relationship, accidental voyeurism, masturbation (solo m), panty kink, implied choking kink

➥ summary | it’s unfair how pretty he is like this; so wanton and needy, half naked and stretched across the middle of your bed (aka the fic where you catch jk jerking off in your bed with a pair of your panties).

➥ notes | 🙃 this man straight up made me buy a keychain that says jk’s slut. i have no regrets.

🤎 series masterlist | masterlist | inbox | AO3 🤎

“I’m home!”

Pausing in the doorway, you listen as the barren sounds of your apartment echo back at you; the soft gurgle of the pipes, the metallic rumble of the dryer, the fan on your fridge kicking on with a dying sputter.

Everything’s as you left it, barring the notable absence of your boyfriend.

There’s no low-toned voice ringing out to greet you, no man-shaped golden retriever bouncing over to drape his arms over your shoulder and smother you in kisses.

It puts you ill at ease, a frown tugging at the corners of your mouth as you toss your keys on the side table and place your shoes next to his. Jungkook said he’d lounge around until you got back from your errands.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour, and as it was his first day off in forever, he’d wanted to spend it with you.

… Only instead, he’s nowhere to be found.

The couch is empty, the tv dark. No god awful clanking or boisterous humming, so that rules out him taking a shower. Did he get called away to the studio? Though if that was the case, he’d have texted.

Right?

Right - he knows how you feel about him disappearing without notice. So that can’t be it - plus his footwear is still on the rack.

Stepping into the kitchen

“Kook,” you call, peeking into the kitchen only to find it just as empty as the rest of the apartment, “you still here?”

There’s no answer.

But what sounds like a faint curse comes from somewhere near the bedrooms, so with a shrug you follow the noise only to freeze.

Your brows shoot up your forehead, and your gut clenches hotly. A violent, visceral reaction that makes all the moisture flee your mouth.

Surely he’s not… No, there’s no way.

Except then a grunt breaks the tense quiet; smothered, breathless sounds that echo low and wounded into the hallway.

If you hadn’t been standing right outside the doorway, if you hadn’t been looking for Jungkook, the distant humdrum of everyday life would’ve otherwise disguised them.

A warm hush creeps up your neck and pools in your cheeks, leaving your skin altogether uncomfortable; itchy and tight like a nasty burn.

Every tentative step feels like walking on a tripwire, the slightest creak of the floorboards a gunshot.

It’s a miracle you make it to the end of the hall, your door haphazardly cracked with slats of sunlight spilling across the floor. Seconds later, another grunt - this time louder and filthier.

It’s impossible to resist the urge to peek around the doorjamb, to see how Jungkook’s pulling those kinds of sounds from his throat, to see what tempo he likes to stroke his cock to when he’s alone.

Mouth full of cotton, your heart lurches while you try to absorb the surreal image presented with difficulty.

With how he’s planted his feet and bent his legs, it’s difficult to get an unobstructed view of what his hand’s doing between his thighs but what you can see?

Well.

“…H-Haaah…ss-shit, that’s…”

It’s unfair how pretty he is like this; so wanton and needy, half naked and stretched across the middle of your bed. You only notice the scrap of fabric draped over his chest because of how bright and oddly familiar it is, but you’re too far away to identify it and you’ve got more important things to focus on.

He looks like some wild, half tamed creature come to steal you away; the briar of his hair a dark halo on the pillows, the short strands sticking to his sweat-slick forehead.

Eyes hooded and hazy, he watches as the pink tip of his cock appears through the circle of his fingers with every upwards rut. Mouth slack and rosy, his tongue glimmers like a tempting prize.

It sends you reeling, a gush of slick wetting your thighs the next time you squeeze them. You’re unbearably empty - desire hooked behind your navel. An unscratchable itch that’ll surely drive you mad.

Every time you blink, he’s there waiting behind your eyelids; his cock thick and heavy, curved towards his belly and throbbing with each measured stroke.

His thighs tremble, and his toes dig into the bed spread. “Fuhhhck, baby - baby please, let me…”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Gonna cum, oh god. Yeah, that’s it just - hnggg - just like that. S’good for me.”

Tatted fingers tug at the hem of his shirt, rucking the fabric up and out of the way. It bunches under his armpits and exposes the cut of his chest, the valleys of his muscled frame.

The muscles bunch and strain with his movements, and you long to sink your teeth in.

“Right there - oh fuck - right there.” His abs clench and his hips flex. “Jus’ like that, come on, baby.”

Digging your nails into your thigh provides distraction - albeit temporarily as he pauses what he’s doing after a few more hurried strokes, the lines of frustration on his face deepening. The hand around his cock slows to an almost glacial pace.

Hooking a finger around whatever’s resting on his chest, Jungkook raises it up to dangle in front of his face - and shock lances through you, quickly followed by an ohmygod, are those… ?

Yes - yes, they are.

No wonder it looks familiar.

All thought processes grind to a halt, your pussy clenching and your knees nearly buckling once you recognize your favorite pair of panties hanging off your boyfriend’s finger.

Anticipation swells in the pit of your stomach, a ferocious heat bubbling to life behind your navel.

All corrupting, all consuming, until you’re shaking with longing.

You never thought seeing Jungkook like this would affect you so much - never even imagined a scenario in which you would, let alone with a pair of your underwear. Though, you also never imagined it would make you as hot and bothered as it does.

No way, no way, no way.

“Mm, so pretty, baby,” he murmurs, spreading his fingers to stretch out the fabric. “Jus’ for me.”

Eyes wide, you watch as he scrutinizes the whorls of delicate lace and sheer panels. He’s not really going to…is he?

Biting his lip, he spares your panties one more long look before working them down his body. His nipples stiffen when they trail down the valley of his pecs, his voice a breathy curse as they tickle the band of his hips, his skin pebbled with goosebumps.

Holy shit, he is.

You choke on your own spit.

It’s almost impossible to believe that he’s about to jack off with a pair of your panties - that you get to witness it happen for yourself - but then he’s switching hands, and you see how pretty the fabric looks stretched out over the girth of his cock.

The texture must feel amazing because Jungkook full-body shudders, his eyes pinched shut and his brows furrowed like he’s in pain.

He lurches forward, catching himself before he folds in half and takes a shaky breath. His fingers flex, the fabric scraping over his sensitive shaft and teasing his swollen balls.

He whines. “Oh my fuh - that feels so fucking good.”

What you wouldn’t give to know what he’s imagining right now. Every hitched whimper gets your ears ringing and your legs crossing, the drag of your shirt over your nipples uncomfortable with how hard they are.

Nevermind the state of your underwear - the slightest shift has your folds sticking together, a sticky wet gush you’d love to soak his cock with.

You don’t even care that he’s getting a little too loud. So what if your crotchety ass neighbor files a complaint?

The sight alone more than makes up for the headache of dealing with management.

Though apparently, Jungkook’s got more consideration for prying ears because he stuffs the corner of his shirt into his mouth.

Stifling a gasp, he locks the desperate noises behind his teeth by biting down and using the fabric to muzzle himself.

His strong thighs tremble when the circle of his fingers meets the base, knuckles white as the crotch of your panties pulls taut over his swollen cockhead. The visual alone nearly ends you.

Why, you think, half-hysterical.

It’s becoming painful to watch and do nothing.

His choked little groan precedes the flex of his wrist - the apologetic glide of his palm as he staves off another orgasm, the angry tip of his erection leaking where it peeks out from the bright lace.

He’s been on the edge of coming for a while with how wet and swollen his cock his; veins thick and throbbing, balls taut and drawn up towards his body.

A punch of desire at imagining all the things he’s gotten up to while you were gone leaves you winded, and you’re barely able to swallow the moan creeping up from deep inside your chest.

It feels like someone sucker punched you full stop. And then replacing those fingers with your mouth - with your cunt - invades every thought until heat crackles down your spine.

Or maybe you should let this play out - have him stain your panties with cum and then put them on, wear them around the apartment until he fucks you over the counter.

It’s a win-win situation, no matter which scenario you pick.

A fresh wave of arousal pools between your thighs, honey thick every time your pussy clenches. Your clit aches for friction, swollen and raw, all while Jungkook continues to drive himself pleasure drunk.

Right now, the slightest touch could make you cry, you’re so turned on.

Keeping quiet as you shift closer to hear the slick, soppy sounds of him fucking up into the grip of his fist is almost impossible, but somehow you clear the doorjamb, the door itself a faint sensation at the back of your elbow.

And then you stop breathing.

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, your blood rushing so fast you swear you hear it thundering through your veins. The air thickens with tension, the musk of fevered arousal heavy in your nose.

Only right as you’re about to crack, one of the sweetest moans you’ve ever heard breaks through his cotton gag. He must hear your stuttered inhale, the grit of your teeth because he freezes. His body becomes a rigid line of tension, muscles coiled.

And then those pretty doe eyes pop open.

Immediately seeking you out, Jungkook swallows and unhinges his jaw. The makeshift bit slips free from his mouth, his shirt fluttering back down to his chest.

A patch of damp sticks to his skin.

“Baby…” he says, his voice thick with pleasure - low and rough like smoky whiskey - while a flush blooms across his cheeks, “You’re - You’re home…”

Without responding, you take a step into the room.

The closer you get, the tenser Jungkook becomes - his breath locking in his throat and his eyes falling shut.

At some point, his hand pulls away and tries to tuck your panties off to the side. It’s too bad you’ve been watching the whole time, otherwise he might’ve gotten away with it.

Jungkook clears his throat and scratches at his jaw. “I was just - uh, y’know…”

He trails off, his hands fluttering around his hips. As if there’s a way to hide the excited twitch of his cock or the drool of pre-cum when you stop at the bedside.

With a faint smile and a raised brow, you ask, “Having fun?”

“I - baby, I’m so…” A muscle in his jaw jumps. “‘m sorry.”

He refuses to look at you.

And that just won’t do.

“Shit!”

Jungkook jolts, a drawn-out moan full of heat ripped out of his mouth when you press your hand over the heated skin of his throat.

All the air whooshes from your lungs and you watch your thumb trace over the swell of his Adam’s apple, enchanted. His body strains up into your tender touch, every hard line demanding you finish what he started.

“Need some help?” you ask, feeling him gulp against your palm. “Sure looks like you do.”

It’s apparent he can barely think, those pretty eyes clouded over in a haze of desperation. Your nails dig into his oversensitive skin to see him flinch, to watch as a shudder rolls down his spine at the delicate bite of pain.

His cock bobs against his belly.

“Come on, baby. Wouldn’t you like my hand or pussy better?”

“Shit, I -” he groans, tossing a forearm over his eyes. “Why are you like this? You’re gonna kill me one day.”

You chuckle, tracing the swell of his bottom lip, the metal of his lip ring. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Every pass of your hand works your fingers higher until the tips press in at the corners of his mouth.

You repeat yourself, “Do you need some help?”

At the taste of your skin, Jungkook groans; a soft, deep-throated thing that injects heat into your veins. His tongue is soft against the pads of your fingers, wet and cradling.

A lone eye peeks up at you from behind his wrist, hooded and burning.

“… Please.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic

2K notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 10 months

Text

Basic Training XIV (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

You woke up to chaos.

The empty space beside you where Peter normally slept wasn’t even something you noticed at first, too preoccupied with the ache in your body. Memories of the previous night were only filled with Peter’s lips on yours and his hands on your frame. You’d felt halfway delirious with how many times you begged Peter to make you come and how many times he’d appeased you.

You remembered threading your fingers through his dark strands, trying so hard to distract yourself from your own thoughts.

…and when you remembered why, you sat up with a gasp.

You were the only one in the room, and light shone inside from the rising sun. It was a whole new day, and thoughts of the previous night reminded you of bright red hair and the shining moonlight. You blinked, trying to think if you’d made the whole thing up. After all, it had been the middle of the night and there was no telling what your mind had conjured up.

However, the noise coming from downstairs told you otherwise.

It was a wonder that you hadn’t noticed it before.

There was so much commotion…and yelling. There was lots of yelling. Slowing sliding out of bed, you made your way to the door, and the closer you got, the louder it got. You could hear a baby crying, it sounded like a little girl, and you surmised that it was little Sarah. So many voices were mingling together at once, but when you cracked the door open, one voice stood out above the rest.

“There’s no telling how far she’s gotten, Steve,” you heard Bucky sneer, and the venom in his tone had you stepping back a bit. “She’s not like the rest! She’s from here, she grew up here, and she knows this town just as well as we do.”

You thought you heard him hit something, and the sound of breaking glass only a few seconds later confirmed that. You pressed one hand to the doorjamb, struggling to swallow. The memory of watching Nat disappear into the night was burned in your brain, and you ignored the heavy feeling in your chest.

“Sam’s coming down shortly,” you heard Steve respond, and the anger in his voice wasn’t hard to miss. “We’ll leave then. Search the woods, the town, anywhere she could be. She couldn’t have gotten far, not on foot.”

Disgust stirred in your gut at the way the blond reassured the other man, and you blinked, pushing back tears. Softly closing the door, you stumbled back and sat on the edge of the bed. You couldn’t quite make out how you were feeling, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

On the one hand, you wanted Nat to make it out of this hellhole and to help. Of course, you wanted her to escape, even if she was the only one who managed to get out of here. This was no place for anyone to be, and you’d feel a whole lot better if even just one of you made it out.

On the other hand…

Nat getting help and exposing every man here for the rapists they were would separate you from Peter forever. You knew that’s what you should want. Peter had a hand in the death of your friends, and he was your very own captor and rapist. More than anything, you should want Peter arrested and put behind bars for the rest of his life, but there was a part of you—and that part was so much bigger than you wanted to accept—that would be devastated to see him go.

Your friends were long gone, and while there was some doubt that she ever would, there was a chance your mom was already mourning you, already accepting that you were lost to her forever. With Peter gone, what did you possibly have to return to? A voice in your head whispered to you that you would at least have a life and freedom…but what did that mean for you at this point?

You completely lost all rhyme or reason at the mere sight of blood, and those first few months here—and the complete lack of control you had over your body—were fresh in your mind. You were so far gone, so beyond broken, and who besides Peter would even put up with that? Who…who would even want you?

You leaned over, pressing your face into your hands as you fought back tears.

It was then that the door opened, and they spilled over just as you looked up. Peter’s hard gaze softened at the sight of you, and you watched his shoulders sag before making his way to you. He was quick to take you into his arms, holding you tight and pressing his lips into your hair. You didn’t quite understand why at first until he spoke.

“I just…I had to hold you,” Peter whispered. “I had to make sure you’re here.”

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him too.

“Nat’s gone,” he finally whispered. “Snuck out some time last night or…this morning before day… I don’t know.”

Peter sounded exhausted and worried and angry all in one.

“Now, we have to find her,” he spat, pulling away.

You eyed him, eyed the anger on his face, and you looked down.

“I heard Bucky yelling,” you quietly said. “That’s what it sounded like, but I’d hoped…”

The rest of your words died in the air, stomach twisting as you fought to lie.

“After all this time…why would she do this now?” he said, moving by you to get to the closet. “I mean, you’re still adjusting…and Jane is pregnant.”

He disappeared into the closet, and you could hear him putting on clothes. You stared at the wall as he huffed, never having really witnessed Peter’s anger like that before. You didn’t know how to feel about it, and especially since it was due to a determined woman only wanting her freedom.

“She couldn’t have picked a worst time.”

You wanted to tell Peter that there was no such thing as a bad time when it came to someone simply wanting to escape the equivalent of a prison. You watched him exit the closet, and you wanted to talk to him, maybe make him understand Nat’s point of view. You hated how angry they were at her over something they had no right to be angry about. It made you think of what would happen to her if they caught her, and more tears spilled over.

Peter noticed.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, hurrying towards you and taking your face into his hands. “We’re going to find her.”

He held your gaze as he said this, sending you a reassuring smile, and you started to shake your head.

“She couldn’t have gotten far, and I’m one of the best trackers in the house…”

You stilled at that.

“With me, Steve, Bucky and Clint all tagging along…she doesn’t stand a chance.”

His words were meant to reassure you, settle your worries, but they only made you want to throw up. The way Peter talked about her…like she wasn’t even human…but instead some animal they had to drag back and lock in a cage.

You took a shuddering breath, vision blurry.

“What…what will you do to her if you find her?” you struggled to ask him, fearing the worst.

The way Peter’s face fell had your heart sinking, and he pressed his lips together, looking over your face before sighing.

“That’s not really up to me.”

There was a lot about his response that unnerved you. He spoke as if he had no inkling of what awaited her, but the drop in his expression told you differently. There was an apologetic look in his gaze that told you he knew exactly what she was in for, but most worrisome of all was that it was out of his hands.

It was in Bucky’s.

“What will Bucky do?” you murmured, and Peter looked away.

He swiped his tongue between his lips before taking a deep breath.

“There’s no telling…”

You struggled to breathe, throat tightening. All sorts of scenarios ran through your mind, but above all, all you could see was Margaret tied to that tree. All you could think about was one of the first days you’d been here and the full extent of Steve’s ire that Peter had made you privy to. Only this time, instead of Steve and Margaret…

It was Bucky and Nat.

The thought made you lightheaded, and you stumbled, collapsing on the edge of the bed. Peter reached for you, and you couldn’t stop crying. Maybe you should’ve stopped her somehow, ran after her maybe? Maybe they would’ve been nicer on her if they saw she changed her mind? Or maybe you should’ve told Peter? Peter wasn’t like Bucky or Steve…maybe Peter wouldn’t have punished her at all as he brought her back. Maybe you could’ve convinced him to let her off easy.

You suddenly reached out to him, pressing your fingers into his arms as you fixed him with a pleading gaze.

“You won’t hurt her, will you? If you find her…?”

Peter seemed to hesitate, and you let out a sob.

“Please, Peter, please, she-you don’t get it. You don’t understand,” you pleaded with him. “Please, don’t hurt her.”

Peter knelt before you, and your eyes followed him as he stared back at you with conflicting emotions flitting over his features.

“I have to bring her back…by any means necessary.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at that, and you felt Peter’s hands on your face, thumb’s brushing away your tears. You felt so exhausted all of a sudden, and you took a deep shuddering breath. You tiredly peeled your eyes open, begging Peter.

“Please, Peter…she’s my friend…and I don’t have many of those anymore,” you choked out, watching Peter sigh. “Promise me that you’ll try…and you’ll get them to try too.”

You watched him look away, deep in thought, chest rising and falling with another sigh. When he looked at you again, there was something in his eyes that looked…defeated. He gave you a small nod before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours. He then kissed your nose and forehead in that order as he stood.

“I promise,” he told you, lips pressed against your hair. “We’ll bring her back…and she’ll be safe.”

His hand lingered on your face before he finally turned to leave. You only looked away from the door when it closed completely, and conflicted with what you’d done, you turned over and pressed your face into the sheets.

“What was she thinking?”

Margaret’s worried tone reached your ears as you stirred the soup. Sarah was asleep on her hip, courtesy of Margaret’s nervous rocking. The woman hadn’t been still since you first saw her, and truthfully, you couldn’t fully blame her. Despite the obvious sentiment that it was perfectly understandable if things didn’t carry on as normal, almost none of you could force yourselves to remain still.

Margaret had been holding Sarah for hours, Christine had repotted every single plant in the whole house, and this was the fourth batch of soup you’d made. Of course, everyone else’s nervous ticks were not done for the same reason as yours, but it’s not like you could say that.

“I mean…it’s been years since she’s been here. What? Was she just…just biding her time?” Margaret wondered, breathless. “I thought…I thought she’d made peace with everything, I thought she was…happy.”

You could feel her eyes on you at that, and you slowly looked up. You could count the number of times on one hand that you’d seen Margaret something even akin to worried. With a husband like Steve, she just simply wasn’t allotted the same natural human emotions as everyone else. Steve wanted the happy picture-perfect family all the time.

Now, however, Margaret looked more worried than any of you.

“She seemed happy, didn’t she? Did she seem happy to you?”

There was some desperation in Margaret’s voice and gaze that made it easy to understand. After Margaret, Nat had been taken next, and when combined with how close Steve and Bucky seemed to be in comparison to all the rest, it had been easy to see that the two women had struck up a friendship and bond that had aged beyond all the others.

“Sometimes…yeah,” you eventually told her, and she frowned at that. “I mean, how happy could she really be…?”

Margaret didn’t reply right away at that, nodding in thought.

“…but…unhappy enough to run? She knows what they’ll do to her. She’s the only one to ever make it this far-they…”

Margaret tearfully looked away.

“They’re going to make an example out of her, and there’s nothing I can do.”

“If they find her,” you reminded her, and Margaret scoffed.

“They are going to catch her,” she sternly told you, holding your gaze. “Believe you me.”

The way she said it made it sound true, and even you felt your own doubts dwindling. Bucky’s angry voice from the morning was still burned into your brain, and even Peter looked far more upset than you were used to seeing him. Nat had made them all angry and determined, and such a combination was dangerous.

“I wish that she’d talked to me…told me…”

You looked up at her quiet voice, watching as she stared at the refrigerator.

“Does she not trust me…?”

You pushed away the memory of Nat disappearing into the night.

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to involve you…put you at risk too,” you assured her, and she looked at you. “I don’t doubt that she trusts you, but trusting you with something like this would be selfish, no?”

Margaret looked down.

“Think of the guilt, the worry, the way it would be eating away at you.”

You felt like you were speaking to yourself more than Margaret.

“Nat just wanted to risk herself.”

You ignored the fact that Nat thought she was pregnant before she left. While part of you wondered if the reveal of Bucky’s role in the death of your friends pushed her over the edge, part of you also wondered if that had anything to do with that. What if Nat confirmed she was pregnant somehow, and the thought of raising a child with him and in this place was just too much?

She’d said to you that she’d made peace with who Bucky was only for an even darker part of him to be revealed. It was very possible that Nat just couldn’t stomach raising a family with a killer, and who could blame her? It wasn’t something you wanted to mention for obvious reasons, but also because Margaret was raising a family with a killer too. Sharon as well. You didn’t want to point that out and bring up things Margaret was probably still working on making peace with.

You admired Nat, but you were nothing like her, and if Margaret had been like Nat some time in the past, that version of her was long gone. She still smiled at Steve and fussed over him and loved him all the while knowing what he did, and you were sure it was because she thought like you did. What choice did she have? She had a baby to look after and protect in addition to herself. Like you, she’d made her peace with the fact that she was never getting out of here.

That was much harder to reconcile with than it seemed, and you had no desire to make it harder on her.

The both of you fell into a comfortable silence as you finished cooking while she leaned against the counter with Sarah in her arms. Both Steve and Peter had been gone most of the day, and you’d started to ask her how this normally goes, if they come back for a break or if they only return once one of you has been caught, when you reminded yourself that this was not the norm.

Margaret had said that no one had ever gotten as far as Nat.

…and that because of that, they’d also make an example out of her.

You shuddered to think of what that all entailed, and again, you hoped they didn’t find her while that part of you hoped for the opposite. Even hours later, you still found yourself at war with yourself, unable to decide on what you wanted more despite what you knew you should want.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. They’ll find her,” the familiar voice said from next to you as you stared out of the living room window. “I know you two have gotten rather close lately. They’ll bring her back.”

You didn’t know how to respond to Stephen, unable to voice your true thoughts on the matter. Yes, it was true that you and Nat had grown closer, a different understanding between you, but you’d happily sacrifice that comradery if it meant that Nat had her freedom.

When bedtime came, you were reluctant to go. You knew that you’d have trouble sleeping and not just because Peter wasn’t there. The night before, when you’d decided to keep quiet about what you saw, it was easy to categorize it as a problem for tomorrow, but tomorrow was here and the hypothetical chaos that would ensue was already upon you.

You were in bed and staring at the window when you heard your door open, and you sat up in surprise.

Peter’s tired face greeted you when you rushed to turn on the lamp, and you blinked at him. Exhaustion aside, Peter looked horrible. Shallow grime and cuts littered his skin, and you found it hard to imagine that he’d been in the woods searching for Nat all day. So much effort and for what? To bring back someone who wasn’t Bucky’s to keep to begin with? You shuddered to think of the effort Peter would have put it if you had ever found the strength to run away.

“You’re back…?”

“For the night,” Peter said, reaching behind his head and pulling his shirt off. “Steve knows you can’t sleep without me…let me come back, and if they don’t find her tonight, I’ll be rejoining them in the morning.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, watching him get undressed while wrestling with your thoughts.

“I’ll be out in a little bit,” he softly told you, leaning over and touching your chin before disappearing into the bathroom.

You stared after him with your arms around your knees, wondering once again if you even wanted them to find her. Peter was such a permanent fixture in your everyday life now that you couldn’t see a future without him. As messed up as it was, it was true, and you knew without a doubt that you wouldn’t even be able to function without him.

You were fighting back tears when he finally emerged from the bathroom, freshly clean.

“Peter…”

He looked at you, expression inquiring.

“What’s going to happen if you don’t find her?”

His face changed almost immediately, and you almost regretted asking him that question. You watched him heave a heavy sigh, bare chest and shoulders rising and falling. He slowly sat down next to you, staring ahead before finally shaking his head.

“We will-.”

“…but what if you don’t?”

“We will!”

You jumped as his voice rang around the room, eyes wide and focused on Peter as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You could see then how stressful this was for him, and you wondered if he’d thought the same as you, if he’d been trying to ignore such thoughts only for you to bring them to his attention again.

“Don’t say that,” he slowly said. “We will find her.”

“…but Peter-.”

“Y/N.”

“If you don’t…what’s going to happen to you? Us.”

He gave you his full attention at that, a slight furrow between his brows as he studied you.

“I mean she’ll…she’ll find help, won’t she? She’ll come back with people who’ll arrest you?”

Peter thought for a short while before nodding.

“More than likely. Nat isn’t the type to only look out for herself,” he admitted.

You blinked back tears, fighting with yourself as your gaze fell to the sheets.

“What if we run…?” you slowly asked him.

You could feel his eyes on you, and the silence was loud, and you pulled your lip between your teeth,

“I mean, if it starts to look like you won’t find her…what if we run?” you looked at him now. “What if you and I just took off? Go into hiding somewhere and they never find you?”

You couldn’t describe how Peter was looking at you, and you didn’t know if you liked it. He stared at you for what felt like too long before exhaling through his nose before gently taking your arms. His dark hair was damp, a few droplets crawling down his face.

“I won’t abandon my brothers,” he firmly told you. “Do you understand me?”

You licked your lips, tears spilling over.

“…but what about me…?”

“Y/N-.”

“I can’t function without you,” you tearfully admitted. “I’m a mess, and you know it. Everyone in this house knows it.”

Peter’s jaw ticked as he listened to you.

“I’m the crazy one,” you cried.

“Don’t say that,” he argued, moving closer.

“I fly off the handle at a little bit of blood,” you spat. “I cry all the time, I…I pee on myself, Peter. They don’t even let me around the kids!”

Peter took your face into his hands, and you frantically shook your head.

“I’m the basket case,” you whispered. “I am…the way I am…because of you.”

You frowned at him.

“…and you’re telling me…that you won’t even choose me over them?”

Peter shook his head, making a noise of disagreement.

“It’s not that simple,” he told you. “We are a family. All of us. We don’t abandon one another-.”

“Who are they to me?” you screamed. “Why should I care about them?”

“…because they’re your family too! This affects all of us-.”

“No, this affects Bucky,” you sneered, and Peter froze. “Nat is his wife, right? Not yours, not mine, and this is a Bucky problem. You don’t have to make it yours…or mine. Peter, we can leave.”

You reached for him.

“It’ll just be us. You don’t have to go down with them, with him. You don’t, and especially not because he lost someone who was never his to begin with. Who cares if Nat ran away?” you cried.

Peter stared at you, eyes stricken and lips pressed together.

“He took her! What right does he have to drag ger back-?”

You swallowed the rest of your words when Peter’s fingers pinched into your jaw. His hand was tight on your face, and you winced in pain at the ache that began to stir in your bone. You reached up, grabbing his wrist, and Peter’s brown eyes appeared so much darker, so much colder as he regarded you. You realized that you’d said too much, revealed too much of your thought process as of late, and your lips trembled.

Peter blinked at you.

“Do not say that ever again.”

His other hand gripped your upper arm, and you winced.

“Do you understand?” he spat, shaking your head slightly. “Don’t you ever repeat that.”

“Peter-.”

“He has every right just as I have every right,” he lowly told you. “If you ever ran away, I would stop at nothing to have you in my arms again…and that is my right.”

A few tears skipped down your cheeks, and Peter took a calming breath.

“Do you understand?” he repeated.

You licked your lips, frantically blinking.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Do you know what would happen if anybody else heard you say that? That…that Bucky has no right to bring her back? That Nat was basically right to run away?”

You couldn’t stop your tears, and when he let your face go, your head dropped.

“You’ve been here long enough to know that isn’t a welcome thought,” he coldly told you. “I thought you were further along than that. That’s disappointing.”

You jerked your head up at that, eyes wide as you looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, I… I’m just so confused.”

That couldn’t be any truer, and if only Peter knew just how confused you were. After all, if Peter and the rest of them thought you all were a family, that Nat’s transgression was a transgression against the whole family, that Bucky had all the rights in the world to drag her back… What did that mean for your own transgression? What did that mean for you if it ever came out that you saw her leave…and said nothing?

“Come here, pretty girl,” Peter whispered, and you slid closer, fitting into his awaiting arms.

He pressed his lips to yours, and you reluctantly kissed him back. One of his hands rested on the back of your neck, the other snaking around your waist as he held you to him. The kiss was gentle at first, and you relaxed, but it wasn’t long before his hands tightened on you, and he bit your lip…hard.

You jerked away from him, the taste of blood on your tongue when you licked your lips.

Peter’s face was the most serious you’d ever seen, and you watched him reach up to roughly swipe his thumb along your lip. It hurt a bit, and Peter harshly rested his hand on the side of your face.

“Those words will never come out of your mouth again. Okay?”

“…okay,” you whispered.

He didn’t look pleased, but he did look satisfied for the time being, and he leaned in to gently kiss the corner of your lips.

“Let’s get some rest,” he softly told you. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

Peter laid down, pulling you with him, and you fought to ignore the possibility of a tumultuous future for you as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you against him.

You were repolishing a vase when Nat returned.

You hadn’t slept the best for multiple reasons, and you were kind of thankful that much wasn’t expected of you because you found yourself cleaning the same tables or same decorations two maybe even three times in a row. This whole ordeal was sickening, and several times now you’d had to fight the urge to vomit everywhere.

Either outcome was enough to send you into a spiral, but it wasn’t until Nat was walked through the door did you realize what outcome you’d really hoped for above the other. You were in the living room, so you were the first to realize they’d finally found her. You hadn’t thought much when the door opened, but the sounds of several pairs of footsteps had you looking up.

You almost dropped your vase at the sight of her.

Nat had looked better, that was for sure, but that wasn’t what you cared about. The relief that filled you almost knocked you over, and you hated yourself for feeling that way. Nat wasn’t fighting, but the even defiance on her face spoke volumes. Bucky had one arm while Steve had the other, and the malice you saw in her husband’s blue eyes had you shuddering.

It was then that her eyes met yours as she walked by, and they softened ever so slightly. If you hadn’t been familiar with her expressions by now, you probably never would’ve noticed. She held your gaze for a few seconds, and when she looked away, you felt tears kiss your eyes.

You mourned the brief bout of freedom that Nat had claimed, and you mourned the lifetime of freedom that was robbed from her yet again. You mourned your own possibility of a different future…but in the same breath…you were so relieved. The relief made your knees weak, and God did you hate yourself for it. Sure, there was some part of you that was sort of happy to have your friend back, but mostly…

You were just happy you wouldn’t be separated from Peter.

…and that did make you cry…because that was awful.

You slowly stumbled after them, peeking around Sam’s shoulder as Steve and Bucky led her down the hall. With a start, you realized they were taking her to the basement, and it took everything to swallow down your gasp. You pressed your hand to the wall, the other squeezing the polishing rag so tight it was a wonder it didn’t rip.

You jumped when a familiar hand touched your lower back, and you slowly glanced at Peter. His brown eyes were as kind as they normally were, no remnants of last night lingering, and he gently rubbed your back.

“She’s gonna be okay,” he whispered.

You looked down the hall again just as Bucky closed and locked the basement door. It looked like he struggled to do so, and you didn’t know if it was because of his anger or because of the supposed love he felt for her. He said something to Steve, and all three of them walked back down the hall. You avoided all of their eyes, only lifting your gaze to the basement door again when they were behind you.

You could feel Peter tenderly pulling on your dress, and you wiped your face.

You couldn’t stop staring at that door, wondering how long they planned to keep her down there, wondering just what they had in store for her. The urge to try and get her out was strong. After all, what had Nat done other than seek her own freedom? Why was that so wrong? Why was that befitting of a punishment?

“What?” you heard Buckly harshly ask. “You wanna join her?”

You turned around just as Peter spoke.

“Bucky,” Peter gruffly snapped at him, pulling you closer.

The two brunettes stared at one another, and you looked between them.

“I’m sorry,” the older of the two reluctantly relented. “I’m just… You don’t even understand how angry I am.”

His blue eyes met yours then.

“Don’t weep for her,” he told you. “She made her bed.”

You blinked when Bucky turned away, and you moved closer to Peter. It was hard to settle your heart, and Peter took your hand, trying to pull you along. Your eyes met Steve’s, and you didn’t like the way they narrowed at you. You were forced to look away when Peter touched your face, his gaze sympathetic.

“She’s gonna be okay…okay…?”

You gave him a slow reluctant nod, allowing him to lead you away. You could still feel Steve’s gaze on you, and you didn’t know what would be more suspicious: meeting it head on or avoiding it altogether. As Peter pulled you upstairs, you realized that the hardest part of this whole ordeal had only just begun…

…and it wasn’t just reserved for Nat.

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark peter parker #peter parker imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction

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saylorsaysstop · 4 months

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Quiet Acts of Love | Bat Boys

What are the quiet acts of love the Bat Boys live by when it comes to the love of their life?

↪ prompt list used

↪ Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! ⭐️

↪ My Masterlist

BRUCE WAYNE 🖤 | always giving the other the last bite of their food

You're not sure when it started happening. Whether it was the first date you eyed Bruce's plate with drool nearly seeping from the corners of your mouth or that night you stayed over and Alfred asked what your breakfast preferences were, you saw Bruce's delicious omelet. Either way, a fork was being ushered to your mouth with the last bite on the prongs.

The first time it happened though, you were confused. "What?"

Bruce smirked, holding the fork in front of your mouth. "You've been staring at my plate since you got yours. Go on, have the last bite."

A smile spread across your face and you parted your lips, Bruce gently putting the fork in your mouth. You savored the taste. After that night, Bruce made it a habit to always give you the last bite of his food whether it be breakfast, lunch, dinner, or dessert. He loved seeing your pretty eyes roll back with the flavor on your tongue.

And if it's dessert? Expect Bruce to not only give you the last bite but he's certainly going to rub his tongue against yours to taste it again.

DICK GRAYSON 💙 | keeping a few of their favorite snacks in the house for when they visit.

"I'm hungryyyy!" You groan, flopped upside down on Dick's couch. He smiled down at you and stroked his fingertips across your face before grabbing your hands and pulling you into a seated position.

"Go look through the cabinet. Bottom shelf on the left." He winks, helping you to your feet. He gives your ass a firm squeeze on the way to the kitchen, earning a laugh from you.

You make your way over to the cabinet, a little confused by his specificity on where to look. But when you pulled open the cabinet and came face-to-face with the spot he pointed out, a gasp flooded from your mouth.

"You bought my favorite snacks?!" You erupt, twisting to see Dick leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed, a cocky little smirk on his face.

There was everything you wanted. Salty, sweet, sour. Whatever Dick saw you eating most of, your favorites were neatly stowed into their own little portion of the cabinet. "You. Are. Amazing!" You squeak, grabbing your snacks and racing back to the couch, but first stopping to give him a quick kiss on the mouth.

JASON TODD ❤️ | kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

The fog poured from your mouth- that's how freezing it was in Gotham City. You sat on the rooftop with Jason, stargazing. You weren't sure why you agreed to do it in these temperatures, but alas, there you were.

Jason turned his head to the side and kissed the tip of your nose, earning the tips of your ears to grow hot. "W-what was that for?" You stammered.

Jason grinned in response and kissed the tip of your nose again. "You are so adorable- that's why." He did it again, and again, his warm lips a stark contrast to the bitter air of the night.

It started a new tradition. Jason always kissed the tip of your nose. It was his way of showing his affection for you. Loved watching you get all flustered when he'd kiss the very tip, your eyes crossing to see his lips in the center. He'd pull away and shoot you a devious wink before he'd part for the evening.

Tip of the nose kisses became mandatory. It was an argument settler too, the motion that told you that neither of you would go to bed angry. Because how can one go to bed angry with the most handsome man who kisses the love his life on the tip of their nose post-argument?

TIM DRAKE ☕️ | "i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?"

"Hey, Tim's in the lobby." Your assistant said as she rapped her knuckles on your door. You raised an eyebrow and pushed away from your desk. You were due to meet Tim for lunch downtown but you weren't sure why he was at your work.

You sailed down the elevator to the first floor and upon the steel doors opening, your eyes widened at the sight of a very handsome Tim Drake, sporting a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. In his hands was a massive bouquet of flowers which had already been placed beautifully inside a vase.

"Tim!" You exclaimed. Heat rose to your cheeks as your co-workers all gathered around to see the very romantic gesture your boyfriend pulled off.

"I brought you flowers." Tim flashed you a boyish grin. You laughed, nodding.

"For what?"

Tim squinted his eyes and took a step forward, his hand dropping to your waist. "There has to be a reason?" He whispered in your ear before nipping you playfully on the cheek. "Wanted to surprise you, baby. You're mine and you deserve it." He shot you a wink as you took the flowers off his hands. After that, Tim spontaneously brought you flowers, all in the name of you being his.

#dick grayson fluff #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake fluff #red robin fluff #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne

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volensnolenss · 6 months

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Birthday boy

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Satoru can't wait for his birthday while you and your students are secretly preparing a surprise for him;

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: sfw! fluff

December 6th is a particularly anxious and joyful day for Satoru, because after it comes the number 7.

“Ahhh, why is it taking so long?” Gojo, sitting in his office, imagined different scenarios, how students and colleagues would congratulate him, but of course you are in the first place. He looked at his watch impatiently, disappointed every time he saw that only 1-2 minutes had passed and, unable to stand it, he went to you.

“It's better to hide these balloons here for now, but this...” you decisively guided each student, giving everyone instructions and actively participated in this grandiose event yourself.

“My lungs are already hurting inflating these balloons.” Nobara looked at them wearily, almost indignantly, “This is not the end, Kugisaki.” Itadori tried to cheer her up by tying ropes to them.

“Hey, let's switch places!”

“No!”

“Shut up, both of you.” And only Megumi, doing everything in silence, could not stand their heated fight.

A lot of questions poured into your address, from which you took a deep breath, “Okay, now we should decorate the cake with these candles- He's coming here. Hide. Quickly.”

Only you could feel his energy over long distances. It's a subtle feeling that runs through you, reminiscent of something bright and indescribable, unlike anything else.

You quickly sat down at your desk, taking out papers and pretending to fill them out; Nobara rushed into your closet, Yuji sat under your desk; Megumi, looking in all directions, stood behind the door, tightly pressed against the wall.

The door opened and Satoru came in, “Honey, what are you doing?” He was leaning against the doorjamb, looking at you and trying to find at least some clues in your facial expressions.

“I'm working.” You looked at him calmly and smiled a little.

“Where are the students?”

“They're sleeping, Satoru. I advise you to do the same.”

“And you want to leave me alone?”

He immediately wanted to approach you, making Megumi tense up, which is why he sent you rescue signals with pleading eyes, “I'll finish soon and I'll definitely come to you.” You stood up, almost hitting Itadori with your foot, and walked towards Gojo, hugging him with one arm and pushing him out of the office.

“Mmm, cool, baby, you're just the best! He spread his hands, surprised at your hardness and cunning, “I love you too!” You slammed the door and breathed a sigh of relief; you started working hard again when Satoru wandered back to his room.

He was muttering to himself out of curiosity, he wanted to know what would be on his birthday. And, entering his office, he sat down on his chair, looked at his watch and closed his eyes, giving himself up to sleep.

In a short time, you have done a lot of work, spending a lot of energy and nerves, taking into account all the preferences of Gojo: starting from the color of balloons, crackers and caps, ending with the cake.

While you were putting candles in, his students started to get interested in you and him.

“How long have you known him?” Nobara stood to your left, carefully looking at the movement of your fingers. “We studied together.” For a second, you remembered your youth; short but unfading memories appeared before your eyes, which remained with you forever.

“And what was he like in those times?” Itadori is sitting on your right,“ He hasn't changed much.”You grinned without going into details and continued to decorate it further.

“Is it true that you are a couple?”

“YUJI!” Megumi and Nobara shouted at him, but you just laughed, leaving him unanswered and signaled that there were only a few minutes left.

“Why not?!” He looked indignantly at his friends, following them and holding a firecracker tightly in his hands.

You were stealthily heading to his office, lighting up a dark corridor decorated with various trinkets, bright lights and everything to make cold December pleasant, because Gojo Satoru day is coming.

“Three, two, one!”

You went to see him, waking him up with loud congratulations and the sounds of firecrackers; from such suddenness, he did not immediately understand what was happening, but nevertheless the raised corners of his lip said otherwise.

“Happy birthday, sensei!”

Among them, he willingly tried to find you. Someone who can't be compared to any gift in this world. Among the falling confetti and sequins, several of which decorated your hairstyle, he went to meet you.

“It's your birthday. Make a wish, Satoru.”You lifted the cake, looking at his shining eyes full of delight, “I have nothing more to dream about, because I have you.”

Thinking for a split second, Gojo blew out the candles, which made everyone shout louder, congratulating him again.

“Do you want to try the cake?”

“No, that's not what I want.” And he pressed against your soft and inviting lips, leaving fervent traces of love on them.

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo headcanons #gojo fic #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year

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Sunday Scaries

(Pre!outbreak Joel Miller x female reader)

A/N: this is for my darling, @loquaciousferret as she deals with her ‘Sunday Scaries’ after a fun weekend out (;

Summary: after a long night out with your girlfriends, you’re suffering through the worst hangover of your life. Your boyfriend Joel is there by your side taking care of you all day long.

~word count: 2.7k~

Warnings: mentions of drinking, established relationship, soft! Joel, he’s so sweet your teeth are going to rot out! Joel, comforting themes, caring for you while you’re hungover, light teasing, praise kink, nicknames, very very light smut, whole lot of fluff! It’s so stinkin cute. (+18) minors dni !

You weren’t sure what time it was exactly when you sent your boyfriend Joel a text message with zero context. You knew by now that he wasn’t the best at reading between the lines. Your text to him was one word: dying. You must have not even realized you had hit send before your head flopped back down on the pillow. You were out late last night with your girlfriends out drinking. You had a few too many vodka-crans, and by the time you had gotten home, you were too drunk, and too tired to even bother taking your little skimpy dress off.

You were rudely awoken by someone banging heavily on your apartment door the following morning. Unbeknownst to you, behind the door was your incredibly concerned boyfriend. When Joel woke up to your text, he didn’t waste any time with quickly getting dressed and snatching his keys to his truck and driving to your apartment. He was definitely driving way over the speed limit but did he care? Not one fucking bit.

You let out a groan as you pulled your pillow over your head to block out the incessant banging. When it didn’t cease, you wrapped yourself up in your thick quilt and forced yourself out from under the covers. You nearly tripped over your discarded strappy heels from the night before as you trudged out of your room. You looked, and felt like the living dead.

After reaching your apartment door, you unlocked it with a grumble and you stepped back slightly as it swung open, revealing your worried out of his fucking mind boyfriend.

“Jesus fuck, Joel. What are you doing here?” Your voice was raw from all the singing you had done with your friends as you rubbed your temples with the pads of your fingers. Your brain was pounding painfully in your skull.

Joel had let out a visible sigh of relief when he saw that you were very much alive in front of him. “What am I doin’ here? Baby, you texted me at like the crack ass of fuckin’ dawn, sayin’ you were dyin’! I raced over here as fast as I fuckin’ could. Thought somethin’ terrible had happened..”

“Oh fuck. I’m so sorry baby I don’t even remember sending you that message honestly. I’m sorry. I was super fucking drunk when I got home last night and I must have sent it around that time. I’m okay, Joel. Just suffering through the worst hangover of my life is all.”

Joel took in your full appearance then. He saw the makeup streaks under your eyes and the smeared left over lipstick. Your hair looked like an absolute rat's nest. Despite looking like hell, you were still the most beautiful girl in his eyes.

“Oh, honey..it’s okay. You don’t gotta apologize, okay? I just wanted to make sure that you were alright..did the vodka crans get to ya again?” he teasingly asked as he leaned against the doorjamb of your apartment door.

“Shuddup Joel. My head is pounding and I really wanna just curl up and fucking die in a hole somewhere..” you grumbled as you turned on your heel and started to head over to the couch. You wasted no time to plop down, face first, with your head buried in one of the pillows.

Joel let out a soft sigh as he watched you plop down onto the couch. He stepped inside your cozy little apartment, closing the door behind him softly as he hung his coat up alongside yours. “I’m sorry you’re havin’ a rough time right now baby. Hangovers can be real fuckin’ nasty.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. I’m regretting all of my decisions right now.” You grumbled into the pillow

You could hear his footsteps approaching where you laid on the couch as he slowly sank down along the corner of the cushion. He gently placed his hand along the small of your back, through the thick quilt that was wrapped around you. “I’m gonna take care of ya, okay? Will you let me do that my sweet girl?” He spoke softly.

“That sounds wonderful. I’d love it if you did.” You turned your cheek to the side so you could see his face before you slowly sat up and brought your arms around him, hugging him tightly with your cheek pressed against his warm chest.

“Let’s get your makeup off first, yeah? You don’t wanna go walkin’ around with raccoon eyes baby.” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you as he held you close and kissed the top of your head.

“Don’t make me punch you in the fucking balls right now cowboy.” You warned him.

“Shhh. Don’t go sayin’ stuff like that okay honey? Where are your makeup wipes, my love? Bathroom..under the sink yeah?”

“Mhmm..”

“Alright, sugar. You sit tight, okay? Gonna go grab them. You still in your clothes from last night?”

“I was too drunk to take them off. I don’t even know how I got my heels off either. They were an absolute bitch to take off.”

He chuckled softly as he gently rubbed soothing circles against your lower back before he reluctantly released you from his grasp. “M’proud that you made it home in one piece and took them off by yourself. Good job baby.”

You let out a huff when he was no longer holding you and you kinda just flopped back down against the side of the couch like a dead fish.

“Gonna take your makeup off, and run you a nice hot bath. Kay? Then we’re gonna get you out of those clothes and into something much more comfortable.” He gently patted your exposed knee from under the blanket before he walked over to your bathroom.

He easily found your makeup wipes from the cabinet under the sink. He returned to you minutes later, setting the bag of makeup wipes on the coffee table before he was gently grasping your thighs in his warm hands and coaxing you to sit up. “You gotta work with me a ‘lil here. Okay honey? Would it be more comfortable if you sat in my lap?”

“How the fuck did I get so lucky?” You mumbled as you sat up, scooting over so you were close enough to wrap your legs around his waist. Your arms draped around his back, interlocking your hands together as you held yourself against him.

“Mmm. Shouldn’t that be the other way around sugar? I’m the lucky one here. Wouldn't want to spend my Sunday any other way than here, takin’ care of ya.” He said with a small grin creeping onto his lips as he looked at you lovingly, with those big brown puppy dog eyes that you loved so tenderly.

You watched as he pulled out a couple makeup wipes, and he grasped your face in one hand, gently holding you still as he began to wipe away at leftover residue of your makeup along your skin. “You’re such a fucking sap, Miller. I love you.”

“Ditto, honey. Now close those pretty eyes for me, okay sugar? I don’t wanna get this stuff in ‘em. That would really fuckin’ hurt.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his request because he was just too damn adorable right now. Your lashes fluttered shut as he gently wiped away what was left of your eyeshadow. His tongue was poking out between his lips slightly as he was extremely focused on the task at hand.

Once he finished getting most of your makeup off, he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. Nibbling on it lightly as he elicited a sweet giggle to slip past your lips. “Does that feel a little better baby? Man, that stuff is a pain to get off huh? Let’s go run that bath for you now sweet girl.”

He was gently scooping you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom while you clung to his strong, broad frame like a koala.

He set you down on the edge of the toilet seat and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before he started the water for your bath. He checked the temperature periodically to make sure that it wasn’t too hot for you.

You watched him with complete adoration in your eyes. Joel Miller was what any girl would want in a boyfriend. God, you were so lucky that he was yours.

“Can feel ya starin’ at me.” He looked over his shoulder at you and shot you a playful wink. “Enjoyin’ the view darlin’?”

“Absolutely. I love seeing my man bent over my tub like that.” You giggled.

“You’re adorable.” He mused as he straightened his back and walked back over to where you were sitting. He gently unwrapped your thick quilt from around your body. “Gonna get you out of the dress okay? It’s so pretty..but I can imagine it was uncomfortable to sleep in all night.”

“I couldn’t get the damn zipper down, Joel. I tried multiple times and it wouldn’t fucking budge.”

“I know honey. It’s okay, I’m here now, pretty girl.” He spoke as he gently coaxed you to your feet. He reached around you, grasping the zipper between his fingers before he slowly dragged the metal down, as the material pooled at your ankles, along with your panties. He had you step out from it before he bent down and picked it up, hanging the dress along the hook on the back of the bathroom door.

“Will you hold me in the tub please?” You asked him softly.

“Of course honey..I was gonna be a gentleman and ask. I didn’t wanna go and assume y’know?”

“Are you trying to make me fall in love with you more than I already have? Cause if that’s the case..it’s totally working.” You watched as he effortlessly pulled his shirt over his head.

“Gasp. You really think I’d do such a thing like that?” He chuckled.

“Don’t lie Miller. You absolutely would do something like that baby.”

“Yeahh, alright. You got me there darlin’”

He scooped you up once more as he carried you to the tub and gently set you down into the soothing water. He discarded the rest of his clothing in a pile before he climbed in behind you. He gently wrapped his arms around you as he brought your back against his chest so you were comfortably laying between his strong thighs. “This alright for you baby?”

“This is perfect.” You let out a content sigh as you rested your head against his chest and placed your hands over his under the water, where they rested comfortably along your stomach.

“M’happy to hear that my sweet girl.” He spoke softly as he rested his chin along your shoulder. “You want me to wash your hair for you as well or just hold you?”

“Oh, please. That would be wonderful, thank you.”

He hummed in response as he reached around you and grabbed your favorite bottle of shampoo. Shortly after, you could feel his fingers working the suds into your hair. He was giving you a full on scalp massage as your eyes fluttered shut.

He had continued to softly hum as he gently scraped his nails against your scalp. He loved these little moments of intimacy that he got to share with you.

Once your hair was washed, he gently tipped your head back into the water before he washed the shampoo suds out of your hair.

You were in a state of complete bliss with your boyfriend taking care of you like this. It was wonderful to have him here with you. Your head still pounded painfully but it was nothing a little aspirin couldn’t fix. “Hey, Joel?”

“Yeah baby? What’s up?”

“Never let me go out drinking like that again.”

“Baby..you said the same thing last weekend..” he chuckled.

You muttered something incoherent under your breath as you turned around between his legs to look up at him. “Shhh. I know what I said last weekend but I’m serious. Don’t let me do that again because I feel like dog shit.”

He was gently grasping your chin between his fingers, brushing the pad of his thumb across your plush lower lip. “M’sorry you’re still feelin’ like shit baby. You and I both know your girlfriends are gonna be textin’ you next weekend and askin’ you to go out. Maybe just don’t drink as many vodka crans next time?”

“Hmm..next time I’ll bring you out with me. You can be my moral support..” you said with a grin, leaning in for a kiss.

“Ohh I’d love that. I’ll make sure you’re being good. Still want you to have fun though..Kay sugar?” He removed the pad of his thumb from your lips and replaced it with a kiss.

His kiss was sweet, warm, and comforting.

“If your head is still hurtin’ real bad..I think I might have a solution for you baby. Only if you’re interested..”

“What did you have in mind, baby?” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him languidly.

“Considerin’ I’m a real gentleman and don’t wanna see my girl in any pain at all, I can ease your mind off of it..”

You breathed a soft sigh against his lips as you relaxed against his warm chest. “You wanna get my head spinning in a different way?..”

“Yeah. I’d love to if you’d let me.” He breathed out as he gently cupped your cheek in his warm palm, stroking his thumb against your cheekbone comfortingly.

“Yes please.” You whispered

“Sit back between my thighs, baby. Get nice and comfortable, okay? Gonna take care of you..” he whispered as he broke away from the kiss.

You slowly turned back around so you were resting against his chest once more. You could feel his breath tickling the shell of your ear as he pressed a soft kiss to your pulse point.

Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as you felt the pad of his fingertips dip down between the valley of your breasts and over your navel. Your thighs instinctively fell open as his fingers brushed over your clit, eliciting a soft sigh to slip past your lips.

His fingers began to move in gentle circles against your clit as he continued to press soft kisses along your neck.

He didn’t apply nearly as much pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he usually would. His movements were gentle, tender as he coaxed you into a soothing orgasm with just his fingers alone. “Shh..that’s it. That’s my good girl. I’ve got you baby, it's okay. You’re such a good girl for me.” He whispered against your skin as your hips bucked up against his hand as you chased your impending orgasm.

“Joellll.” You let out a sweet, soft moan as your eyes rolled back into your skull.

“I know baby..I know. Feels good doesn’t it? I love playing with your pretty little pussy like this..always know how to get her purring for me..”

“You’re the devil..” you breathed out as he continued to gently ruin you with his fingers. Once the sensation became too much and your thighs were trembling, you grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you came down from your high. Your mind was all fuzzy and didn’t hurt nearly as much now.

“Too much?” He let out a soft chuckle seeing that you were spent in his arms.

“Just a little..but I loved it. Thank you baby.”

“Anything for my girl.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Once the water was no longer comfortable, and yours and Joel’s skin was pruning up, he gently helped you out of the tub and wrapped a nice fluffy towel around your body.

He had some comfy sweats and a hoodie waiting for you as he helped you get dressed and carried you back to the couch. He let you sit between his thighs once more while you used him as your own personal pillow. You napped together for the rest of the afternoon. He made sure you drank water every now and then and when you were feeling a little better, he even made you some soup.

Joel Miller made your hangover, and the Sunday Scaries, not so scary anymore. Despite this, you still called off work the next morning, and your boyfriend happily spent the night at your place with you between his arms.

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adnauseum11 · 3 months

Text

Joint Task Force (John Price x Reader)

You're harbouring guilt and John makes you feel better.

It's still Valentine's Day here, and thus it seems like the correct time to post this. It is mostly smut, heavy dose of fluff.

longer than normal 2.3k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex

feedback welcome!

You aren’t proud of it, but John’s illness the other night scared you. You’re not as quick to needle him and more annoyed than usual when your friends have a go at him during Trivia night. John has a thick skin and manages to laugh it off better than you do, but your touchiness doesn’t go unnoticed. You have to work in the morning and John’s promised to drive you if you want to spend the night. You do, but you’re realizing now it was a trap.

“What was going on with you and your girls tonight? They do something to piss you off?” He’s asking you, blocking the only exit from the bathroom as he casually leans against the doorjamb. You turn wide eyes at him, slowing your brushing motions to spit into the sink. John has got you pinned with his deadly blue eyes, watching for clues.

“What do you mean?” You feign cluelessness.

“Love, you can pull that innocent and clueless bit on just about anybody else. What’s really going on? You don’t normally row with those two.”

You drop the act and pout for a moment before rinsing your mouth. When you’re finished you turn to face him, fisting your hands on your hips.

“I just didn’t like the way they were talking to you. You’re not an idiot just because you don’t have a Masters’ degree. They were being catty bitches.” You sniff, trying to be flip about it but anger bleeding into your tone all the same.

“Try again.” John extends an arm, catching your wrist and using it to reel you in to him, using his bigger body to keep you corralled in the bathroom. He’s clearly not buying what you are selling and knows you too well to turn you loose.

“Well, fine, maybe I should be a little nicer to you, too.” You snap and then press your lips together in frustration, knowing you’ve given yourself away and contradicted yourself with your delivery all in the same breath. Brilliant.

“This about the migraine the other night? I told you, I’m alright, love.” John’s soothing, but you’re still guilt wracked. You feel like an idiot, constantly figuring things out too late. The realization he’s been suffering alone was like ice water to your consciousness. Saying that out loud means admitting to being a shit friend, which means John deserves better. You’ve been spiralling internally for days.

John’s massaging up your arm, having worked out the quickest way to defuse you is to override your nervous system. It’s hard to stay anxious when your methodically being turned into jelly. His sharp blue eyes stay on your face though. It’s like he can sense there’s something else circling underneath your bluster and concern. When he gets to your shoulder he steps back, steering you out of the bathroom and over to bed. You let him, his warm, mollifying touch turning your energy from frenetic to something more malleable.

He's got you spread out on your belly on his bed before you can think of a reason to resist him, his big hands smoothing under the tank top you wear to bed, pressing into tight muscles with practised swipes. There’s an epic battle going on between the anxious tension locked into your muscles and John’s determination to figure out what you’re stewing over.

If there’s one thing John knows how to do, it’s extract answers from people that aren’t eager to give them up. He complains gently about your tank top getting in the way, that he could do this better if he could move more freely. You’re just on this side of ‘too relaxed to care’ by now and oblige him, letting him help you remove it over your head. He doubles down, long slow strokes pressing you into the mattress firmly, forcing little groans out of your lungs. You can vaguely hear him hum in satisfaction; your mind completely focused on his hands.

“Why do you think you need to be nicer to me? I think you’re pretty nice as it is darling.” John presses the issue, not stopping in his work, using the heels of his palms over your lower back. You can hear the smile in his voice and know instantly he’s thinking of the times you’ve put your mouth and hands all over him. You wonder if the flush that’s taking over your face and chest extends to your back and if John can see.

“Do you get migraines often?” You ask instead of answering and John is quiet for a moment. Your brain drifts as his hands seek out the knots along your spine.

“My nerves get confused sometimes. Been around a lot of explosions and gunfire, must have rattled something loose. Not usually as bad as it was the other day.” He jokes gently but he’s being truthful, giving you the answer you’re actually looking for.

“I hate that I didn’t... I didn’t even consider that, John.” You admit to the mattress, completely unable to even partially face him while you force the words past your lips. John’s silent but his hands continue to move, sparking hope that maybe he doesn’t agree with your internal assessment that you are, in fact, an awful selfish person.

You don’t even think when he hooks his fingers in the thick elastic of your sleep shorts, lifting your hips for him automatically as he shimmies them down. His strong hands grip your thigh, running his thumbs up the middle of your hamstring. You’re moaning before you can stop yourself, loud in the quiet of the room. The sensation of his thumbs pressing down firmly on the big muscle enough to make you weep.

“Like that, do you?” You can hear the smile in John’s voice again and he repeats the motion to the same effect.

“My god, that should be illegal.” You manage to slur out and John chuckles, switching to your other thigh. He makes his way down to your ankles and then back up before responding to you. He’s got handfuls of your ass before you know what’s happening.

“This should be illegal. I want a medal for managing to hold a conversation with this to contend with.”

You finally laugh, letting him break your sour mood. Your muscles are so relaxed they feel weighted but you feel lighter inside somehow, your affection for the man pinning you to the mattress only ever growing. When he rolls you onto your back, you’re too suffused with relaxed pleasure to feel self-conscious about being naked with the exception of a pair of panties.

You can see the warm smile stretched across John’s face, making his blue eyes twinkle. It’s reassuring, his solid warmth pinning you down. He leans over you, balancing his weight on an elbow by your head, bracketing you under him before he kisses you. The taste of him is familiar to you now, and a thread of desire begins to spool tighter, low in your belly. You suck on his tongue when he swipes it between your lips, garnering a groan from somewhere deep in his chest. His teeth rasp lightly over your bottom lip, making sparks fly at the back of your scalp and behind your eyelids. He breaks the kiss but only to continue to press kisses over your jaw, nuzzling at your sensitive earlobe before sucking on it gently.

John’s lips are hot, anchoring you in place as he explores down the sweep of your neck. His whiskers drag across your delicate skin, sending shivers down your spine and directly to your pussy. It makes all thought impossible, words nearly beyond your reach. Your fingers find his biceps, the hot press of his mouth dizzying.

John misreads your grip on his arms and pauses, looking down at you.

“Want me to stop?”

“What? No, don’t you dare.” Your breathy voice has a pleading quality that galvanises him, teeth rasping over your pulse point before swirling his hot tongue over the same spot. He’s shifting overtop of you, resting more of his weight on you. His hips snug against yours, his erection slotting against you like a hot brand. You’re suddenly desperate for movement, friction, and hook a leg over his hip, arching against his solid body. John won’t be rushed but knows what you want, and rolls his hips against yours in appeasement. The flash of pleasure stutters your mind and you moan, your leg tightening around his hip.

John’s palm settles on your breast, squeezing the soft flesh with tenderness, the hunger on his face at odds with his touch. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging it up and he obeys immediately, leaning back to tug it up between his shoulder blades and toss it. His hand resumes its exploration, his thumb circling your nipple as his hips rock, grinding against you. You’re certain he must be able to feel how wet he’s making you, the fabric trapped between your bodies damp beyond measure.

He bends, wrapping his mouth around the tight bud of your nipple, making you arch, desperate to get closer to the pull of his lips. Your fingers find their way to his hair, gripping the short strands as he groans his approval.

John’s hand has slid down your body and is tugging your panties down, leaning back to guide your leg down off his hip while he strips the last stitch of clothing from your body. You have to release him to let him work and you do so with a whimper, dropping your hands down over the hard planes of his body. You can only wonder at what John sees – flushed cheeks and wild hair, legs spread and eyes glassy with desire in the semi-darkness.

“Alright, love?” John asks, leaning over you to plant another searing kiss on your lips, returning to his place between your legs. You can feel him leaning, hear his bedside drawer and realize he’s getting a condom.

“Can I?” You ask breathlessly and if John’s surprised, he hides it well, the expression on his face pure mischievousness.

“Not if you want this to last more than a minute.”

Leave it to John to be sarcastic while he’s hard as a rock, with your legs wrapped around him.

He’s propped himself up on an elbow, the other hand wrapped around the base of his cock to guide himself into your body. The blunt head of his cock sinks in and you can’t help the answering moan that sounds suspiciously like his name. John curses, his hips flexing as he slides home, your head tossing on his pillows.

“Fuck me, you are gorgeous.” John groans, pressing his face into your throat, setting a steady pace with his hips as he moves over top you. Your fingers dig into the back of his shoulders, gripping his big muscles as he strokes into you, again and again. You can feel the coil of tension tightening in your belly, each rocking thrust just grazing your clit.

“John” You gasp, and you want to tell him to move just slightly, want to tell him where you need his touch but when his blue eyes meet yours a wave of emotion closes off your throat, leaving you panting helplessly. He hitches your thigh over his hip, grinding into you, understanding somehow anyways, making you moan wantonly. The sounds of your pleasure only drive him on, the slap of skin a counterpoint. Your hands slip off his shoulders, the heat between you making you both sweaty. Your nails rake down his side, tearing a groan out of his chest.

He shifts again, leaning back to slip his arm under your leg that isn’t hitched over his hip. The back of your knee slides into the crook of his elbow and the change in angle is enough to nudge you to the edge of orgasm. Your eyes go wide as you feel your body respond to John’s thrusts, your inner muscles low in your abdomen fluttering on the precipice. You can’t help but call his name again, needy and high pitched. You slip your hand between your bodies, stroking your clit and drawing John’s gaze. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart.

He hunches over you, his rhythm breaking as your entire body clenches around him, a wailing cry rattling out of your throat. John’s hips stutter as your body clutches at him, his thrusts turning shallow as his orgasm slams through him.

You spend the next few moments panting, John's forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.

“Sorry sweetheart –“

His voice is ragged, rumbling against you.

“god John, why are you sorry for making me cum like that?” Your eyes are drifting shut, every muscle in your body feeling like lead after the massage and then orgasm. You are certain your brain is partially liquified.

“mm, was going to make it last longer.” He murmurs into your ear, making your back arch and your nipples tighten all over again. You force your eyes open to look at him and the tenderness on his face makes your throat close again.

You make a small noise and grip at the thick muscles of his shoulders, which he seems to understand and kisses you repeatedly. He pulls out, disposing of the condom and brings you a water on his way back to the bed.

You haven’t found the energy to move an inch so John rolls you onto your side, spooning you tightly. You clutch at the arm he slings around you. Sleep drags you under, still tightly gripping John’s hand.

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#fanfic #call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader #john price cod #john price x f!reader #john price x female reader #captain price #fluff and smut #this work has smut #guilty conscience #safe sex #sex positive

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