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#i am so bad making gifs holy shit
photonbee · 5 months
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╰┈➤ shocked bee moodboard ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
[ID: A 3x3 stimboard of 8 GIFs surrounding a central GIF with a GIF divider at the very bottom.
GIF 1: A gradient GIF where the black center ripples across a white background.
GIF 2: A paintbrush lays a silver glittery paint over a black shiny surface.
GIF 3: Black ferrofluid drips down then floats back up.
GIF 4: A bunch of white glowing stars are dropped onto a dark background.
GIF 5: A transparent picture of shocked bee is overlayed on a GIF of a black and white gradient moving in a circle.
GIF 6: Tons of slightly glitched eyes opened at different periods.
GIF 7: A manga cap of Kobeni from the Chainsaw Man manga. From the bust, she is hunched over and screaming ‘eeeeeek!’
GIF 8: Three animated translucent ghosts approach the screen one by one while singing/talking.
GIF 9: An ink animation of a person with a magnifying glass to their eye, covering the rest of their face. They look at some moving plants with their eye occasionally going closer with a spiral appearing on their pupil.
GIF 10: A bunch of black uniform squares move in a line from left to right on a white background.
End ID]
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chososdiscordkitten · 2 months
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Baby Fever?!
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Synopsis: JJk men/reader have baby fever ≽^•⩊•^≼
Includes: 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 Content: afab!reader, topics of pregnancy, marriage, breeding, and having children. mostly nsfw (sorry anon) (a.n) Jesus my page has been full of baby fever nd marriage recently.
Dedicated to; this ask.
MDNI
Satoru Gojo
Ever since you first became official- Gojo had this little habit of asking to give you a baby. You always shook him off, telling him ‘no’ because it was far too soon and you were too young to start having children. 
Birth control became a necessity because of the little need he had to finish inside of you.
On one occasion of him asking the incessant question- you leaned in real close to his ear, “I will impregnate you.” you whispered.
This unlocked a whole other can of worms in Satoru’s mind. The urge to breed you was strong, but that little promise lit a fire in his soul. 
But one day, while out on a date- walking down an empty street, a child no older than 7 or 8 ran up to Satoru, Tears staining his cheeks and asking for his mom. 
Though you hardly saw Satoru interact with children in your daily life, you could see his demeanor change from a normal playful one to a more serious and authoritative one.
Crouching down to the child’s height and asking where he last saw his mom and his name—all with calm. 
You watched the little interaction unfold before you with wide eyes- the thought that Gojo was too immature to be a father completely being thrown from your mind as Satoru stood up straight and held the child’s hand in his. Guiding him back to where the child last saw his mom and reuniting the stressed mom and the crying child.
After that, more and more little instances Satoru did, made you start contemplating his little offer of giving you a child. 
Whenever you’d go shopping with him, you’d always pretend to accidentally stumble across the baby aisle.
Gojo perked a brow, watching your eyes admire the little socks attached to the onside in your hands. 
Corner of his lip curled up with a soft giggle, stepping over to you and whispering- “You’re actually considering having a kid?” he teased watching you furrow your eyebrows and hang the little onesie back on the rack. 
You shoved him with your elbow, scoffing and making a mental note to never bring this up again. 
That night, you were scrolling on your phone- watching any video that popped up of a chunky baby with a soft expression. 
Satoru was beside you, focused on his phone, but the sound of a child’s laughter made him look over at you with furrowed eyebrows- peeking over to your phone and watching the tiktok you were looking at. 
Some video of a mom showing their child’s massive hair bows- he was about to laugh at how silly the baby looked. Only he scanned your expression and got a hint as to why you hadn’t scrolled yet. 
Satoru rolled atop you, resting his head on your sternum and urging you to put your phone down. 
Holding his head in your hands- “I can give you a baby if you want one so bad~” he teased, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. 
Parting your lips with a soft gasp, “Satoru Gojo!” you feigned shock, whispering, “A child out of wedlock? What would the clan think?” you teased, mushing his cheeks together as he rolled his eyes. 
Pulling your hands from his cheeks and hoisting himself up- face to face as he placed a hand between your thighs, urging you to open them. 
Placing a kiss on your lips with a smile- “I am the clan.” he scoffed smugly. 
Toji Zenin
It all started with one little sentence he littered during intercourse, legs bent to your chest, and Toji pounding into you like his life depended on it. 
Something along the lines of, “Gonna breed this perfect pussy-” in a low husky tone. It was muttered- like his internal thoughts seeped from his lips without permission. 
But the words stayed in your mind- long after you had cleaned off his copious mess from your center. Even as Toji was snoring next to you- you stayed up thinking about the words he had muttered into the air. 
They made you squint thinking about the possibility of it. Questions you wish Toji was awake to ask him. 
Rare were the times he would sprinkle dirty talk during sex. But the way he said it, it wasn’t meant to be heard as dirty talk. The way it sounded was he spoke it as a proclamation. 
The next morning, when Toji woke up to your face pressed against his chest. Feeling your eyes watch him sleep, he woke up asking you what you needed. 
“You want to-” air caught in your throat, recalling what he said. “..breed me?” you whispered, looking at his hazy eyes and furrowed brow. 
Corner of his lip curled, “Where’d you get that idea?” he scoffed, closing his eyes and pretending not to feel your harsh gaze on his skin. 
“From you- you said it last night.”
Toji nodded ‘no’. As though the idea of him saying that was impossible. 
“Yes, you did- I heard you.” watching Toji’s smug face nod ‘no’ again. 
“You can’t gaslight me Toji- I heard you.” Your determination amused the man- feeling his chest rise in a half laugh against your cheek. 
Even a few days after- the thought lingered in your mind. Toji still refused to believe he said it- telling you that you were mistaken. 
And then Toji caught onto the feverlike smile you’d get on your cheeks whenever you’d see a baby in public. Smiling to himself as you pinched your eyebrows at the little humans. 
But there was this one time- on an elevator with a new mom and a baby in her hands. Toji noticed your staring as the woman struggled to reach into her purse, which caused it to fall and spill her belongings on the ground.
The woman sighed- looking down before peering her eyes back to you- “Could you?” she asked, holding out her baby to you- which you happily took and looked at Toji with the child in your arms. 
Toji swore his eye twitched as he watched you- happily bouncing the child in your arms before the woman reached her hands back to her child. 
After that, Toji started expressing his urgent need to breed you full of his children during intimacy- to which he still denied he said any of those things. 
“Whatever- as long as you don’t become a deadbeat again, I don’t care.” you scoffed, referring to his son he refused to talk about. 
Naoya Zenin
While he was dating you- Naoya took a lot of care in ensuring not to get you pregnant. “Children out of wedlock never result in anything good.” he would defend. He told you to start taking birth control- only you laughed in his face and said no.
That if he wanted to have safe sex- he would have to wear a condom. That you wouldn’t alter your body’s hormones just because he doesn’t wanna get you pregnant. And Naoya obliged. 
Midway through sex, pulling his ear down to your lips and telling him how much better it would feel without a condom- only for his eyes to shut tight- trying to keep his focus on not cumming, going as far as telling you to shut up. Multiple times, knowing if you didn’t, he might just listen to you.
Though you liked teasing him with the possibility. Asking if he didn’t want to see you barefoot and pregnant, waiting for him at home. Watching his neck pulse with a low gulp just thinking about it. 
In truth, you didn’t really want to get pregnant- Naoya had a point in the whole ‘marriage first, then kids.’ thing. You only liked watching his ears turn red and warm whenever you’d try and tempt him with having sex without a condom.
You didn’t think much of it- unknowing of the temptation brewing in Naoya’s mind with every waking day he didn’t marry you. 
Every time you whispered a temptation in his ear- the mental image of you waiting for him at home, swelled with his child and the future of his clan—Naoya was hanging on a very thin thread. 
And once he finally had the guts to ask you- it took very little time for the wedding to be planned. The thought of children was nowhere near your mind on the day. 
A small ceremony with his family, prancing you around like some trophy in front of the elders. 
And that night- Naoya held a gentle hand as he undid the little buttons of your wedding dress- carefully unwrapping you from the costly lace. 
You found it odd- sure. Naoya wasn’t usually the type to take things slow and gentle in this department. 
But when you looked at him, his hips between your knees with your back on the bed. Looking up at Naoya as he undid the buttons of his dress shirt- “We’re not stopping till you’re pregnant.” he huffed, tossing his shirt aside and easing himself onto the bed. 
Had you known your little temptations and offers of unprotected sex would cause his brain to rewire the idea of having kids- you still would’ve done it. Maybe with a little more tact though. 
Naoya no longer saw it as another responsibility of being head of the clan- he saw it as an opportunity to breed you again- and again. Till you were so full there was no other choice than to get pregnant. 
Suguru Geto
All it took was Suguru showing you pictures of him and the two girls he adopted when he left Jujutsu High and telling you countless stories behind the photos for you to look at him differently. 
You saw a certain change in the way you looked at him. No longer a father figure to two teenage girls, you saw him as an actual father. 
Mouthy and mean as those girls could be, you saw how gentle he was with them anyway. And you knew he could make a phenomenal father. 
You chose a tactless form of asking him. Sitting at the table eating breakfast- looking at his soft expression. 
“Would you be a dad again?” 
Suguru looked at you with furrowed eyebrows- “...Again?” unsure of when the first time he became a father was. 
You rolled your eyes, urging him to answer the question with a sigh. 
“Depends.” Geto murmured, looking back down to his phone and earning a kick from your socked foot. 
You scoffed, “On?” 
“If we are stable- money wise, and if the conditions are right.” he grinned, wondering where this topic came from. 
Your cheeks tingled in the slightest when he used ‘we’ to refer to becoming parents, answering another question you had. 
Suguru thought back to the question again, lightly raising his eyebrows at realizing what you were asking. 
“With…You?” 
You laughed- “No Suguru- with your next partner.” tone full of sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. 
“I would be open..?” he squinted, trying to gauge where you stood on this. Watching your face go unchanged at his response- wanting to hear the truth, not just something that he said catered to your opinion. “...To it?”
You grinned, “Suguru, this isn’t a trick question. Just answer honestly.” assuring him that this was a necessary conversation in a relationship. 
He gulped lightly, trying to shake away the worries of saying the wrong thing. Placing his phone on the table and looking at you with his hands between his knees. “I would love-” he grinned, cheeks blushed and avoidant of your gaze. “To have children with you.” 
You couldn’t help the shy little laugh that left your lips- “But we are a smidge too young- don’t you think?” you grinned, watching his head nod with a scoffing smile. 
“I did the teen dad thing- so maybe a little too young.” he joked- 
You nodded agreeingly, looking at him with love filled eyes- “We’ll wait till we are 40.” you grinned, watching his shoulders move in a small giggle. 
“Till 50- if we can.” 
Kento Nanami
You both had been toying with the idea of children. Small comments like, “Awe Ken-” looking at him with a soft smile. “You would be a wonderful dad.” whenever he talked about the fears of becoming a father. 
The talk of kids was spoken early in your relationship. Often were the times when the conversation of how many would come up a few minutes before bed. 
Playing with your hand in the dark, lying on your back with Nanami beside you. 
“How many?” You asked softly- hearing Nanami hum, close to falling asleep. 
A low exhale left his lips; “Two. Maybe three.” His voice husky from how close he was to falling asleep. But he was always happy to answer your questions- knowing they would keep you up if he didn’t answer. 
Rolling over onto your side and placing your head on his chest, “Twins?” you asked with a smile. Picturing the future with him as he put his hand onto your back.
Nanami let out a soft exhale with a smile. “Twins are a handful,” he spoke softly, his eyes daring to drift off to sleep as you caressed his torso.
You thought about it- remembering that you would have to carry them. “Okay. No twins.” 
Hearing his heartbeat against your ear as you thought of another question. 
“When?” 
Nanami gruffed a soft laugh, rubbing small circles on your back. “We’d have to be married first.” he mumbled. 
“Then wait a year or two.” his voice dwindling its tone as he eased into the exhaustion.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Why?” softly blinking your eyes. 
“A year of blissful marital life before children come into the picture.” Nanami spoke, half asleep, as the tiny part of his brain that filtered his words refused to work. 
You grinned, “You wanna marry me?” softly giggling against his chest.
Nanami sighed- pressing his hand onto your back a little firmer, holding you close. “I do. Dunno why I haven’t ask you yet.” his words breathy and bordering on sleeping. 
“Should get on that-” he exhaled, hearing his breathing ease into a heavier pattern against your ear.
After that, conversations about children only came up more and more. There was talk of names and if you’d move into a house instead of an apartment. 
Slowly your own baby fever stuck onto him- you sending tiktoks of the chunky babies you’d get on your fyp didn’t help either. 
The words “Practicing won’t hurt” were uttered whenever you mentioned the word breeding. All too thankful to the iud you had, knowing the apartment would be crawling with children if you didn’t have it. 
Hiromi Higuruma
When you started letting Hiromi cum inside- he kinda just assumed that you were on something. Never hesitating to give you what you asked him for. 
But Hiromi started getting the hints that you had a particular itch in your brain that only he could scratch. 
The topic came up when you joined him for lunch- sitting outside a sandwich shop and hearing Hiromi talk about a case debriefing after this. 
Too focused on telling you about it before he realized you had stopped listening. 
Eyes looking off to the side and your thumbs twiddling in your lap. 
“Honey?” he asked, looking in the direction you were looking and seeing a mother playing with her child. Snapping your gaze back to him- 
“Sorry.” Softly exhaling, “Sorry- you were saying?” 
Hiromi furrowed his eyebrows, watching your eyes glimmer with a nervous light. Reaching a hand out to yours, “What’s wrong?” he asked- all too intuitive at what the look on your face meant. 
“Nothing- it’s okay.” Squeezing his hand assuringly. 
Hiromi raised a brow- parting his lips about to speak only for you to interrupt him. 
“Do you want kids?” preferring to rip the bandaid off rather than ease into a conversation. 
He inhaled again- only for you to speak again. “With me. I mean.” 
The corners of his lips curled, almost in a teasing smile. 
Hiromi sighed, thinking about the question and looking down to his half-finished sandwich. 
“I’ve never been in a relationship serious enough for the talk of children to come up.” he grinned, leaving your question unanswered. 
“You’ve never thought about it?” holding his hand tightly. Scared that you were illusioning yourself into a future Hiromi didn’t want. 
Hiromi tilted his head- thinking about it.
“I think I do…?” 
You pursed your lips, unsatisfied with the half answer. And Hiromi let out a blushed scoff- “If wanting kids meant wanting them with you- i do.” he clarified. Earning for you to look at him with soft eyes and a wiggling pout. 
“You mean-?” you pouted, looking at him with a soft expression. 
His eyes widened at the sudden severity in your gaze, not knowing how much his confirmation meant to you. 
Raising his hand to your lips and pressing a light peck on his knuckles “Can we?” 
“...Now?” 
You scoffed, “No, not now.” with a soft smile.
Hiromi exhaled, thinking of having an actual child- “How ’bout we focus on getting married first?” 
Choso Kamo
Ever since the first time you had sex- Choso always finished inside, no patience nor ability to time his orgasm and pull out in time. 
Not recalling the repercussions of unprotected sex- nor really caring. 
And when the conversation of children came up- You insisted on giving him an army of children. “I think it’s what you deserve.” To which he looked at you as though something awakened in his mind when you said that. 
While on dates, he would see an overly large family struggling to keep the many children in check. He would look at you and remember what you had said. 
‘An army of children.’
Between the two of you- he caught babyfever first. 
Walking through a strip mall- looking for a new pair of shoes when you passed a baby store. 
Choso tugged your hand, looking at you eagerly and leading you into the store. “Just to look,” he said. 
Holding onto a tiny pair of shoes, looking at you, and presenting them in his palm. “Are these really meant to fit a child?” 
You let out a small giggle, nodding your head yes and watching him prattle around the store. 
Asking you questions- as though you had any more idea than he did. 
Watching your face uninterested in the window shopping he was doing- “You don’t want to have kids anymore?” furrowed eyebrows and determined to cut the window shopping if you didn’t. 
You grinned, “Of course I still want to have kids.” taking his hand and placing it on your tummy as though you were already pregnant. 
Eyes wide and cheeks pink as he rested his hand onto your tummy. “You gotta pump a baby in me first.” Smiling at the fact he was already looking for things for a child that hadn’t been conceived yet. 
His mind sparked the idea of watching you grow big with his child. Made his eye twitch knowing that if you acted on your promise. That image wouldn’t be just an idea in Choso’s mind. 
Marriage didn’t make a difference to him- only a meaningless piece of paper. Like a license, or a ssn number, or money. (he’s in denial)
So the next time you had intercourse- Choso accidentally overstimulated himself. Keeping your words of ‘Pump a baby in me.’ in mind as you allowed him to pump you full of potential children. 
You did say an army of them. And Choso was more than happy to assist in creating the small army. 
-
𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭: play fighting with the jjk men!
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months
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Competing With Gods
Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader
Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you
Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.
Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
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A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.
Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”
The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”
“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”
She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”
“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”
“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”
“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.
“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”
“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.
As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”
“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”
He just gave her a tight lipped smile.
“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.
Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”
“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.
Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”
“He looks 18!” she insisted.
“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”
“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.
Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”
Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.
~
That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”
Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.
When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.
He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.
When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”
He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.
Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.
Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.
So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.
“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.
She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.
Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.
The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.
~
The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.
As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.
“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.
Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.
Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.
“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.
“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.
Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.
“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”
Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.
After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.
The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.
They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.
So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.
While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.
Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.
Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.
“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.
The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”
“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”
The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”
Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.
“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.
Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.
Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.
Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”
Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.
He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?
Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.
That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.
“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”
Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.
“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.
“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.
Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”
She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.
She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”
“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”
“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.
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supercutszns · 4 months
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a place with you; luke castellan
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wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)
pairing: luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.
warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker
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Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.
So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.
When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.
“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.
“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”
You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.
Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.
So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.
Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.
Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?
This time, though, he’s a little worried.
It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.
It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.
There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.
You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”
You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”
It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”
The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.
Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”
“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”
You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”
He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”
“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”
“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”
“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”
You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”
It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.
Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”
“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.
His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”
I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.
“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”
It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”
He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”
Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”
Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.
Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.
Until you’re claimed.
Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.
He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.
Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.
You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.
But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?
After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.
“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.
You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”
Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.
You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”
When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”
There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.
He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.
“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.
You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”
“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”
It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”
He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”
You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”
There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”
Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”
He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”
His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”
He turns back to you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.
“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”
Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”
His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”
It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”
There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”
You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.
He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.
“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”
“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.
He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”
Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.
But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.
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osaemu · 3 months
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i am a strong believer in soft and sweet gojo. when he tries being mean during sex, the tears on your face and the muffled cries make him fold so fast. he’d stop so fast and lean down to hug you and whisper so many praises and apologies in your ear. oooooooh my god i have a gigantemasorous praise kink it’s so gross please i just wanna be called a good girl and be treated like a princess :(((
PRAISE KINK: SATORU GOJO
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he can't help but go soft when you look up at him through teary eyes. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. p –> v, creampie, praise kink (shocking), cockwarming, unprotected sex, dacryphilic themes, squirting, teeny tiny size kink. halfway through i changed the plot and this ended up way longer than i expected oops!
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"good girl, stay just like that f'me," satoru mumbles, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at you. his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets to cumming inside of you, and the cute way you look up at him through unfocused eyes just pushes him over the edge. "f-fuck, makin' me cum faster than a vi—"
satoru doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before his orgasm hits him, fast and hard, and his cum shoots out of him in a thick, hot load deep inside of your welcoming cunt. both your chests heave as satoru collapses on top of you, resting his body on his forearms and his forehead on yours. "heh, good job, princess," he exhales, closing his eyes and letting his lips curve into a smile.
"y'did so go— aw, wait, are you cryin'?" satoru breathes, eyes fixed on the messy tears that fall down your cheeks. he slows his relentless pace inside of you to a stop and lifts a hand to wipe away your tears, fingers light and gentle against your wet face. "c'mon, don't cry, baby, y're makin' me feel bad."
"s-sorry," you mumble, voice shaking just enough for satoru to notice. he tuts and kisses your cheek, lips lingering just underneath your eye.
"you did so good, pretty girl," satoru murmurs, lowering his body and lying down on top of you. his face is barely a couple centimeters away from yours, and as he lowers himself, you swear can feel his dick slide in all the way. "shhh, lemme take care of you," he coos when a soft moan slips out of your lips. "does it hurt?"
"a little," you whisper, looking up at satoru through wet eyes. he smiles tenderly back down at you, peppering kisses all over your warm face. his hips rest on top of yours, and every little shift of his body feels like an avalanche in yours—satoru's heavy, especially when you're already weak from an hour of sex in his sheets.
"you're so cute," satoru mumbles, lips touching the corner of your mouth. "n' so pretty, too..." his mouth finds yours and he kisses you slowly, hands involuntarily finding themselves all over you. satoru doesn't bother attempting to speak anymore as he just takes you and all your beauty in—to him, the whole world is less than nothing in this moment compared to you.
satoru lifts his head to let you breathe, a playful smile on his lips the longer he looks at you. "aw, princess, why're you still crying?" he tuts when another tear falls down your cheek. "was i that mean? m' sorry, baby, don't cry, please?"
"snf, it's not you," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. but the second one tear's gone, another trails down your face to replace it. "i.. i don't know why m' crying," you try to explain, but the way satoru tilts his head like a confused puppy shows that your efforts are futile.
"c'mere," he rolls over onto his back and pulls you on top of him, dick still lodged deep inside you. satoru's head falls back onto a plush, white pillow as he lifts one hand to caress the side of your face. "'m not gonna let you cum until you stop cryin', baby."
"why not?" you ask petulantly, thighs starting to tremble from how deep satoru is. even when he's not trying to drive you crazy, he still manages to with how little he's moving now. he already got to cum—in fact, most of his cum is still inside of you, held there by his unmoving dick.
"'cause i'm gonna think you hate me."
"i don't hate you."
"then stop crying."
"fine," you huff, a tiny smile starting to grow on your face.
satoru matches your smile with one of his own and he nods in approval. "aw, you're so pretty when you smile like that f'me," he coos, eyes rounding as if he's looking at the cutest thing in the world—which, to him, is you. "stay like that n' i'll let you cum, 'kay?"
he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and nudges you off of him and onto your back, switching positions with you. satoru pulls out of you, cock glistening with a mixture of your slick and his cum before he plunges back inside and fills the empty space inside of you.
"t-toru—" you mewl out, thighs unconsciously clenching together before satoru pushes them apart again.
"shhh, be a good girl and—fuck, jus' like that," he groans, feeling your cunt clench around him with every thrust. a breathy laugh slips out of satoru's lips, a welcome addition to the wet, pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. "shit, baby, you fuck me up in ways you can't even fuckin' imagine," satoru mumbles, too lost in your shiny, dumbed-down eyes to form coherent thoughts.
with every thrust, satoru sinks deeper and deeper into your welcoming cunt, cursing and moaning about how good you take him. you're not really sure how long it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap—maybe seconds, minutes, even years—but it comes all at once, hitting you with the force of a wave and any remaining self-control you have dissolves.
you babble satoru's name over and over again, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes as he talks you through it—in fact, you're practically getting off to the sound of his soft praises. "fuck, you're so cute, keep takin' me like the good girl i know you are," he groans, lips curled into a drunken smile. "gonna cum on me, baby? c'mon, use your words, i know y'can."
it's a miracle that he can keep running his mouth even as he gives you the best orgasm of your life—but somewhere in the hot fog that's your mind, you manage to gasp out a "yeah" amid satoru's increasingly sloppy thrusts. it feels like he's chasing his own pleasure more than yours, but you don't mind, because a moment later you're squirting all over his throbbing cock and holding onto him as if he's your lifeline.
"yeah, jus' like that, princess, you're so—" satoru cuts himself off with another laugh, chest heaving and eyes wild. he brushes his thumb underneath your swollen lips and wipes the little trail of drool. "fuck, what are you doing to me?" he mumbles, kissing you breathlessly, hardly caring whether or not either of you could breathe.
satoru watches as your eyes flutter shut and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. "heh, pretty girl, you did so good f'me," he whispers, a soft smile on his lips as he gazes down at you. "sleep well, you earned it..."
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theemporium · 5 months
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[3k] too many shots and a bet leads to a very interesting night out. it's just a shame neither of them can remember it and the whole world is discovering the details alongside with them.
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RING! RING!
The first thing you were painfully aware of was the annoying shrill of your phone echoing from some distant corner of the room. 
RING! RING!
The second thing was the fact you had forgotten to close the blinds last night, meaning the blinding rays of the Nevada sun were doing their best job in dragging you out of your comforting slumber like irritating parasites. 
RING! RING!
And the third thing was that whoever was trying to call you was seemingly very insistent to get in contact with you, if the three calls in a row (that you were so far aware of) were anything to go by.
RING! RING!
“Oh my god,” you groaned as you pulled the edges of the pillow over your ears, hoping it would muffle the ringing shrills. But when the phone continued to ring and the noise only seemed to get louder, you were forced to throw your hand out and blindly try to grasp the cursed device in hopes of making the noise stop. 
Your fingers wrapped around the buzzing phone, your eyes still firmly kept shut as you kept tapping the screen until the ringing stopped before you brought it to your ear. “You better have a good fucking reason for calling me.”
“I hope you are doing something you enjoy.”
You frowned, your brain taking a few moments to process the voice coming through. “Arthur?” 
“Like, I hope you are fulfilling your lifelong wish right now.” 
“What the fuck are you on about?” You grumbled, exhaustion hitting your body just as badly as the rays of sunlight shining through the open blinds were. “It’s too early for your riddles.”
“I am just saying that I think you should be doing something you love before Charles kills you.” 
You let out a non-committing hum. “And why would he kill me?” 
“Many reasons but I think getting married in Vegas last night is easily the top of the list right now.”
Your eyes shot open when you heard the words leave Arthur’s mouth. It felt like ice had doused your entire body as you quickly sat up in the hotel bed, now painfully aware of the pounding headache that only tequila could give you. 
“WHAT?”
“Congrats, by the way. I do pity the poor guy you locked up though.” 
Now painfully aware of the situation, your eyes grabbing onto any detail that would hopefully prove your brother wrong. Unfortunately, all you seemed to find was evidence that he was telling the truth if the white dress, the horribly large costume jewelry ring on your finger and the abandoned veil with ‘NEW BRIDE’ on the floor were anything to go by. 
“Oh my fucking god,” you breathed out, feeling though as you were going to empty your stomach’s contents any moment now. “How do you know? Why didn’t you stop me?!” 
“I wasn’t with you! I just opened Twitter and found pictures of my sister outside a wedding chapel and all over some random guy!”
“I married a stranger,” you hissed out, your lips parting in shock. Tequila made you do many questionable things, but even this was bad for you. 
“He’s your husband, it’s a bit offensive to call him a stranger.”
“Arthur, I swear to god—” You cut yourself off as your eyes fell on the large lump in the bed next to you. It took you an embarrassingly long time to realise it was another human. It took you even longer to tear your eyes away from the cheap suit he was wearing before you looked up at his face. “Oh my fucking god.”
“What?”
“Charles is going to kill me,” you breathed out, your heart pounding like it was lodged in your throat. 
“Yes, we established that when I called you—”
“Charles is going to kill me when he finds out I married Max,” you continued, lost in your own daze that you barely acknowledge your spluttering brother on the other side of the phone.
“YOU MARRIED MAX VERSTAPPEN?!” 
Unfortunately for Arthur’s sake, you quickly hung up the phone. You could barely process the fact the Dutch driver was currently passed out on the bed next to you, let alone doing so with your brother screeching in your ear the whole time. The phone was abandoned on the bed as you stared at the Dutchman, your brain working on overdrive as you tried to work out what to do next. 
So, you did what any reasonable person would do and shoved him off the bed. 
“OW!” 
You froze for a moment before you crawled over to the other side of the bed, peaking over the edge and down at Max who was currently groaning on the floor from his impromptu wake up call. 
“What the fuck was that about?” He grumbled, blinking a few times before he realised who was hovering over him. “What the fuck are you doing in my hotel room?” 
“This is actually my hotel room,” you replied. 
“Oh,” he muttered. “Then, what the fuck am I doing in your hotel room?”
“Well, it’s what a married couple do,” you commented. 
Max’s brows furrowed together. “What?”
You lifted your left hand, the ring now on display and you could practically see the cogs turning in his head before the realisation hit him. “Do you think this counts as our honeymoon?” 
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” 
...
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...
“How did this happen?” 
“Tequila,” you muttered with your nose scrunched in disgust as you watched the Dutchman begin to pace the hotel room. If you cared enough, you would be concerned about him wearing down the carpet. Though as of the current moment, your priorities were currently elsewhere. 
Max turned to look down at the certificate he had found stranded beside your veil on the floor, your names and signatures clearly printed on the piece of paper—which took out the small piece of hope that this was just some elaborate prank set up by Arthur.
“How did we get that drunk though?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together. If he wasn’t so confused, he would be more embarrassed at the fact he clearly couldn’t handle his alcohol as well as he once could. 
“Well, it’s your fault,” you commented casually, which had the boy whirling around to face you. 
“How is this my fault?” Max scoffed.
“You made the bet!” 
Max’s frown deepened. “What bet?”
“At the hotel bar,” you stated like it was a basic fact he should have remembered. “When I bumped into you—”
“We bumped into each other,” Max chided. 
“—you were the one to suggest shots,” you pointed out.
Max gave you a look. “How is that a bet?” 
“Because you said I couldn’t outdrink you. I said you would be a sore loser. And then you bought us ten shots each.” 
He blinked. “Huh.” 
“I’m pretty sure it was also your idea to go to another bar afterwards when we got kicked out the hotel bar,” you said in a sing-song voice.
Max scoffed. “Absolutely not. You were the one that said only losers go to bed after one bar.” 
You shrugged. “I stand by it.”
Max let out a laugh, a little breathless like he was trying to hide it. He shook his head, glancing down at the certificate one more time before shrugging. “It’s not really that bad, to be honest. A bit embarrassing, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them.”
Your expression turned sheepish. “About that…”
“Who knows?” He asked in a blunt voice. 
“Well, Arthur knows,” you started. 
“That’s not that bad,” Max scoffed, his shoulders relaxing. “Wait. Charles doesn’t know, does he?”
“Not yet,” you said before quickly continuing. “But he probably will because the paparazzi caught us last night and now the pictures are all over the internet.” 
Max blinked. “AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO START WITH THAT?” 
“You’re grumpy when you wake up!” You defended, watching as the boy rolled his eyes at you.
“The whole world thinks we are married!” Max countered before sputtering out a laugh. “Well, we are married. Or we aren’t. I’m still not totally sure but I don’t need your brother chopping off my balls over it!”
“He wouldn’t!”
Max shot you a look.
“Okay, he would,” you grimaced before giving him a shaky smile. “But he doesn’t know yet so we should be in the clear—”
BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
...
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...
“Okay, I have good news and bad news.” 
Max looked at you expectantly. “And?” 
“Bad news: Charles now knows,” you said with a shaky smile. “Good news: he doesn’t know it’s you!” 
Max pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to rub soothing circles. “Fucking hell.” 
“But also bad news: he is coming here right now as we speak so we should probably—” You started, fully set on grabbing what you needed and hiding out somewhere else in the hotel until Charles calmed down. However, your plans were put on hold when you heard a groan from the bathroom. 
“CAN YOU BOTH PLEASE SHUT UP?”
Your gaze caught Max’s as you stared at each other, both with expressions mixed between confusion and surprise. A few seconds passed before you were both clambering off the bed, heading towards the bathroom where you threw the door open and scrambled to turn on the light before you both froze in the doorway at the sight in front of you.
“Now that was unnecessary.” 
You gaped at the sight of Yuki curled up in the bathtub, dressed in a similar looking suit to the one Max was wearing along with what you were certain was the shower curtain placed over him like a blanket. He had a pillow behind his head and sunglasses over his eyes, and for all intents and purposes, he looked fairly comfortable. 
“Oh my god,” you breathed out. “I married two drivers last night?!”
“I hope you at least married me before Yuki,” Max grumbled, only to let out a small wince when you elbowed him. “God, you’re a difficult wife.” 
“Kinda going through something,” you snapped back before your eyes moved back to the Japanese driver. “I can’t believe I married you and Yuki.”
The driver in the tub let out a scoff mixed with a laugh. “Please, you didn’t marry me. You’re not my type.”
You blinked, unsure whether or not you should have been offended by his comment. 
“The ring on your finger says otherwise, mate,” Max commented, the ring a matching one with the one that was currently on your left hand.
“I married someone but not you,” Yuki said as he waved you off, nuzzling his face back into the pillow. “And our wedding was much classier than yours.”
“I—” You frowned. “You remember?” 
“Yeah, you said you wanted witnesses,” Yuki grumbled, bringing the shower curtain up until it was tucked under his chin. “You also dragged Lando out so he would take your photos.” 
Max gaped. “Lando was there? Lando knows?!” 
“Yes, now can you please go bother him?” Yuki muttered under his breath. “And turn the lights off as you leave. Only wake me up when you order food.” 
...
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...
“Don’t make me an accomplice in your crimes.” 
“Shut up and let us in.” 
You weren’t surprised to find that Lando and Logan were already in the room, both with looks of amusement on their faces as they watched you and Max wander in—still dressed in your wedding clothes from the night before. 
You wanted to slap the smug looks off their face. 
“Is it really a good idea to hide here?” Max asked as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling as though the headache pounding through his head had nothing to do with the alcohol he consumed last night and more to do with the mess you both had created.
“It buys us time,” you insisted. 
“On the chance that Arthur doesn’t rat you out,” Logan added. 
“You told Arthur where I was?” Your eyes widened before you turned to look at Oscar. “Do you want me dead?” 
“You know, something about the way you’re wording that makes me feel like it’s a trick question,” Oscar commented with a suspicious look on his face.
“Oh my god, I’m going to die today,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. 
“It’s kinda romantic that you guys will die together,” Lando chimed in as he grinned between you and Max. 
“If I survive today, I’m going to run you over,” Max threatened with a strained smile on his lips.
Lando snorted, shrugging. “Yeah but the chances of that happening are low so…”
“Your brother doesn’t even know my room number,” Oscar pointed out. “It will take him ages to convince the desk to give it to him or even hunt—” 
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“This is what English teachers meant when they taught us poetic irony,” Lando laughed, all giddy and happy.
“Like you paid attention,” you grumbled, eyes narrowing on the boy before you turned back to the door. “Don’t answer it.” 
Oscar’s eyes widened. “I can’t not answer it.” 
“Yes, you can,” you said bluntly. “Just don't open the door.”
“He knows we are in here,” he hissed. 
“We don’t know that for sure.” 
“OPEN UP! I CAN HEAR YOU! SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD—” 
“Even more reason not to open the door,” you said, pressing your lips together to hide the wince that you wanted to let out as Charles thumped on the door again. 
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Max grumbled as he quickly stood up, ignoring your pleas to just pretend your brother didn’t exist. He reached the door, yanked it open and braced himself for the wrath of an angry Charles Leclerc.
Much to his surprise, the Monegasque barged straight past him and headed straight for Oscar instead. 
“You!” Charles gritted out through clenched teeth as he reached to grab Oscar’s collar, firsting the material in his hands. “What do you have to say to yourself?” 
Oscar’s eyes widened as Charles backed him into a wall. “What?!” 
“Marrying my sister in Vegas? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Charles continued. 
It didn’t take long for Lando to descend into a fit of giggles, practically on the floor if it weren’t for the fact Logan was keeping him on the bed. Somewhere still standing by the door, Arthur stood with an amused look on his face that only grew wider when he saw your confused and shocked expression too. 
“I didn’t marry your sister!” Oscar said to him, trying to push the boy away but he was latched on tightly. “I was literally in bed by nine!”
“Loser,” Logan grumbled under his breath.
Charles faltered, his eyebrows furrowing together. “What?”
“I wasn’t the guy to marry your sister,” Oscar repeated, finally managing to pull Charles’ hands off him. “I don’t think there is enough alcohol in the world for me to do that.”
“First Yuki and now him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“If you didn’t marry her, then who did?” Charles questioned. 
It was almost comical how quickly everyone turned to look at Max, who was still standing by the door and looked like he was contemplating just dashing out the room.
“You,” Charles muttered out, his eyes narrowing on the Dutchman. 
“In my defence,” Max started as he gave the boy a smile, though it didn’t seem as confident as he was hoping it would be. “I didn’t know I married her either.”
“I am right here,” you huffed. “Jesus Christ.” 
“I am going to—” 
“Nothing. You’re going to do nothing,” you jumped in, taking a step so you were blocking his line of vision of Max. “It’s just a…phoney, fake marriage. It’s not that big of a deal, Charles. People will forget by next weekend anyways.”
“Uh,” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s actually very legal all over the US and in some other places—”
“Shut up, Logan.”
“Yes, ma’am.” 
Charles narrowed his eyes on you. “You’re not allowed to marry him.”
“I already did,” you pointed out with a sheepish expression. 
“I don’t care.” 
“Charles,” you stepped towards him, though the boy still looked like he was contemplating parading into the paddock with Max’s head on a stick. “Charlie, please. Don’t do something stupid because you’re annoyed.” 
“I want to cut his dick off,” Charles told you.
“I know.”
“And you can no longer have alcohol unsupervised.”
“That’s a tad dramatic.” 
“And no consummating the marriage.”
“That would be difficult to do if you cut off his dick anyways.”
“Can we stop talking about my dick?” Max chimed in with his hands locked in front of him, almost protectively.
Charles sighed. “But I promise I won’t kill either of you. Today.” 
You grinned as you reached towards your brother, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”
“You should tell Maman before she finds out through the internet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Maybe shower first. You stink of tequila.”
“That would be kinda hard to do considering Yuki is currently asleep in my bathtub,” you commented. 
Charles opened his mouth to reply but just shook his head. “I’m not even gonna ask.”
“Good, because I don’t have answers,” you murmured with your lips turned down. “And he’s really snappy when you try to get them from him.” 
Charles snorted. 
“So, that’s it?” Lando suddenly spoke up from behind you both. “God, that was not worth getting out of bed for. I expected more drama.”
“I’m still pissed at you,” you told the Brit, who just grinned. 
“I’ll send you the photos later, don’t you worry,” he said like he didn’t just hear the words that left your mouth. “Maybe one of them will inspire angry Charles again.”
“Please don’t,” Max grumbled. 
“It won’t be necessary because we are finding a divorce lawyer,” Charles stated simply, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he began making his way to the door, nodding for Arthur to follow him. “Both of you get dressed. We are leaving in an hour.”
Both you and Max gaped at the boy, but he didn’t notice. 
“And someone take one for the team and wake up Yuki. I vote Lando.” 
Lando frowned. “Woah, wait a second–”
“ONE HOUR PEOPLE!!”
...
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 133,728 others
yourusername call me mrs verstappen
view all 12,892 comments
oscarpiastri sometimes i wonder if you just enjoy pushing charles over the edge
yourusername yes
user WHAT
user it was real?????
user oh my god IT WAS MAX?
user someone sedate me
user this is some wattpad level stuff wtf the book tropes????
user i need to know how charles reacted when he found out
arthur_leclerc badly
maxverstappen1 i mean it was an accidental name but i guess it suits you
yourusername you like meeeee, admit it :)
maxverstappen1 i think i legally have to agree because you're my wife
yourusername damn don't sound too enthusiastic about it
user i just know charles lost years of his life over this
landonorris uh photo creds?
yourusername no
landonorris rude
charles_leclerc take this down
yourusername no
charles_leclerc you are a leclerc, not a verstappen
yourusername the marriage certificate says otherwise
charles_leclerc please stop reminding me
pascaleleclerc welcome to the family maxverstappen1
charles_leclerc MAMAN?????
maxverstappen1 thank you? i think?
pascaleleclerc dinner will be at 6 when you are back in monaco
maxverstappen1 yes ma'am
charles_leclerc MAMAN WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON????
.
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yuri-is-online · 4 months
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Why So Rude? (Or Yuu's BF Asks Crewel for their Hand in Marriage and What Happens Next Will Shock You)
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For legal reasons, this is a joke. I have been dealing with a health issue of sorts (i am not dying so no worrying ok? just v annoyed) so writing longer stuff is escaping me at the moment, enjoy some crack while I take a breather. More can be found on my masterlist here.
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NO (FLOYD, Rook, and Malleus)
Crewel has been in denial about this "relationship" since it started. Not that his disapproval is really going to stop Floyd, but Crewel 100% refers to him as "Yuu's ex boyfriend" much to the confusion of... everyone who hears that. They do find some common ground in their shared interest in fashion, but Crewel has never forgiven him for his behavior in his class OR his "stealing" Yuu's heart.
Rook on the other hand he didn't have too much of an issue with until he realized just how familiar he seemed to be with his home for someone who had supposedly only been there to visit you. The twenty page letter he wrote to confess his feelings to you didn't help either once he saw the few lines where Rook wrote about the beauty of your finger prints, but he knows his disapproval means very little to someone as obsessed with romance as Rook.
Malleus... is the King of a country genuinely hostile to humans and Crewel thinks he is a little too obsessed with Yuu for his own good. He is also not a fan of how condescending Malleus is towards his disapproval, but it's an issue that will be worked out eventually. They are fighting out of love for the same person, your safety and happiness is all they really care about at the end of the day.
No, but as a joke (Sebek and Jack)
I don't think he has anything against him really, he just wants to see how important tradition and the opinion of his elders actually is to him. When Sebek begins to plead his case because he does not wish to put a wedge between Yuu and their father figure, but cannot deny his feelings for Yuu Crewel's more than happy to "change his mind." He knows you will be happy and well looked after.
Jack is a solid partner, and he is a wolf beastman who speaks of Yuu as his soulmate, his one and only, his eternal life partner and- well. Crewel just can't resist a bit of teasing, he's always been so serious and easy to fluster about these sort of things. The sheepish look on his face when he realizes Crewel has been teasing him makes it very worth it.
I can't stop you can I... (Leona, Kalim, and Rollo)
While Crewel has faith that Leona has what it takes to save his home- he lives in the Sunset Savannah. That is really far away from the Queendom of Roses ( ; ω ; ) have some pity on your poor father he can't travel that far all the time it's bad for his skin. The pressures of being the partner of royalty is something he worries over, but a smug promise from Leona to protect you soothes his worries somewhat.
The flippant way Kalim talks about the assassination attempts is not the way Crewel wants to hear about attempts on your life or heaven forbid your death. Kalim is very sympathetic to this, he has no real argument against how ignorant he was in the past, but he isn't a child anymore. Just filled with a childlike love for the world and determination to make it better. It is hard to say no to that.
Rollo is too much like Trein. His request for your hand in marriage feels like something that the old man would cry tears of genuine joy over, so of course he hates it. Unfortunately he also knows how much this teen grandfather matters to you or whatever so the answer will be yes. At least he has an excuse to visit Fleur City more now.
Give me one good reason. (Azul, Jade, Idia, and Lilia)
Azul was such a good student that he should have zero complaints that you started dating. But he also isn't blind and dislikes being pandered to, which is very much what Azul is doing here. He does wonder briefly if this is a cultural thing and he is being insensitive, but he is still exasperated enough to not immediately say yes. The strange twinkle that comes to Azul's eyes at the prospect of negotiations makes him wish he had though.
Speaking of not being blind, what does the Leech family do and is it legal? Survey says probably yes, but Crewel remembers dealing with Jade's parents while he was in school and has no desire to feed his child to the shar- err eels. Jade immediately begins to sniffle, oh how could Crewel say such bad things about him? A poor innocent eel and blah blah blah. If Jade wasn't such a good partner he'd be cooked.
Crewel understands and appreciates the effort Idia has put in to his personal growth and he has no desire to shit on that... but S.T.Y.X. and the secrecy around it is no joke. He wants to continue having a relationship with Yuu and as soon as Idia reassures him of that he has no more objections.
Lilia is an old man, a war criminal, and a father. Of course Crewel has seen how he was able to live as a student while at NRC but his own credit as a father would be under fire if he didn't object mildly. Lilia has some fun with it and has a bit more respect for him for objecting. So long as the eventual answer is yes.
Yes (Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jamil, and Epel)
While Crewel does have some red flag concerns concerning Riddle's mother, he has no real objections to Riddle himself. He is a perfect gentlemen and the correct amount of nervous to be asking the question. He gets full marks, as if there would ever be any other outcome.
Trey is that sort of solid option that parents really love, but he also has that tight personal relationship with Crewel from his Science Club days. He lives in the Queendom and is tight with his own family there are few better places for Yuu to be.
While Cater isn't Crewel's favorite student, he doesn't hate him or the Shaftlands. He is also not entirely unconvinced that him asking is for a magicam trend but! He has no real major objections. He is more than ready to have two kids, as soon as Cater is willing to admit he could use a stable father figure.
I don't think that Ruggie would even suggest marrige unless he's obtained that stable, high paying job he so baldy wants and has moved his Granny out of the slums. It's the perfect time to ask for permission to propose, and while the Savannah is still super far away (r.i.p. Crewel's skin) he is much more supportive of the two of you and how far you've come.
Similarly to Ruggie, I don't think Jamil would propose to Yuu unless his personal issues with Kalim and his position with the Asim's had been sorted. He wants to actually travel on his honeymoon, and Crewel is very willing to suggest the Queendom of Roses. Jamil's ego is absolutely stroked by how Crewel had zero objections but your adoptive dad doesn't get to see how smug it makes him, Jamil saves the smirks for when you say yes.
I think that Crewel seems to like all of the first years, and Epel is no exception. Sure, his request starts out well put together and polite but devolves into a dialect that leaves Crewel with no idea of what he's saying, but he has a general idea. Of course Epel has his blessing, Harveston sounds like a lovely place for Yuu to live their life in Twisted Wonderland and Epel a perfect person to keep them safe and happy.
He already planned the wedding (Ace, Deuce, Silver and Vil)
I know what you're saying. Crewel approving of Ace? Of course he does! He was in his homeroom class, and Crewel has a soft spot for trouble makers from the Queendom, he was one after all! Sure he might have had some problems with him when you first started dating, but now, when he is deathly serious saying he wants to spend the rest of his life with you? Crewel has been waiting for this since he fist saw carrot head yanking your chain.
Deuce is a much easier sell, Crewel was always a bit harsh on his intelligence, but only because he ran a tight ship and wanted him to reach for the stars. Well he has, and he has you to support him through it, Crewel is so proud of both. He and Dilla have absolutely been hypothetically planning this for years.
While Silver's curse did not endear him to Crewel for his first two years of schooling, he really grew on him when you started going out. He's glad that you've found someone who loves you as much as Silver does, really he is. Unfortunately this means he has to plan a wedding with Lilia, something they both have been doing since you started going out and never talked about. Don't worry! They only intend to fight a lot little bit.
The instant you started dating Vil Crewel entered his mother of the bride era. The permission asking was less Vil wanting to be polite and more him coming up with a way to distract him and convince him to focus on designing the clothes. Thankfully it works and no one other than his dogs have to know just how insane the prospect of his two favorite students marrying made him.
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nanaminokanojo · 28 days
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POTTY MOUTH | sukuna x reader
–your toddler is cussing and guess whom he learned it from | Inspired by this ig reel from sullivanking. It's so Sukuna-coded and I just had to.
CW: just cussing
MASTERLIST
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"Fak..."
Tiny footsteps followed as your toddler tottered about the hallway into the living room where your husband was sitting, watching TV. You ignored it, thinking it was just gibberish your three-year-old son was saying, but then, he said it again, the vowel not quite sounding right, but you knew just why your ears piqued at the sound.
"Fak!"
Swiftly, you turned around, your feet carrying you to the direction your kid went before you know it, holding one of the clothes you were folding in the laundry room from whence you came from. He wasn't saying the word quite right, but still... You were met with an equally shocked Sukuna who was just trailing his little replica with his eyes, arms crossed over his broad chest as the latter just walked around the room, seemingly unaware that the two of you were even watching.
You couldn't make out the expression on your husband's face, but your left eye twitched at every single utterance of the foul word coming from your little one's mouth no less. It didn't take long for you to figure out how he felt as he sank his lips between his teeth, also unaware that you were watching him. Soon, much to your chagrin, his shoulders were shaking even as he fought the laughter that was beginning to spill over his mouth.
Then, again, in that small, innocent voice, you heard it again: "Fak." You gasped and both Sukuna and your child looked at you, the older of the two clearing his throat and trying to school his expressions into that of disappointment albeit feigned upon seeing the same yet genuine expression on yours. Your son, however, beamed at you and waved innocently. "Hi, Mama."
"Hello, sweetheart..." You sat on the couch next to Sukuna, hiding your face from your little boy as you glared daggers at your husband.
"What the fuck did I do?" he whispered, but your son heard it and giggled, pointing at Sukuna with his tiny finger. "Papa! Fak –!"
"Sweetheart, don't say that," you interrupted, shaking your head as you beckoned him over. "That's not a very nice word."
But your kid, like his father, was defiant, running out of the room, laughing in high-pitched tones instead of being deterred from saying that bad word again. And finally, Sukuna cracked up, his deep voice ringing throughout the room even as you started smacking him on the leg and arm, fending himself from your "attacks".
"Baby, why are you mad at me?" He jabbed a thumb over to the general direction your son went. "He's the one cussing." He was still fighting laughter.
"This is on you! If you weren't such a potty mouth then he wouldn't be hearing such words!"
He tried to gather you in his arms, pulling you over his lap and securing you there as he planted a kiss on your temple, lingering there and letting go with a loud smack, but you still pouted at him. "Oh, come on. It's not my fault he's so smart."
You narrowed your eyes at him.
"His Mama is very smart," he said, trying to placate you, but you playfully pushed his head away from you. "Is that a roundabout way of saying he got that from me?"
"Naww." He pulled you even closer until your arm was flush against him, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Baby, I'm complimenting you."
"Okay, but do something about it. Daycare starts tomorrow..."
"Oh." He blinked at you and you saw your exact thoughts reflected in his carmine eyes. How he's going to explain why his kid is saying such a word, you didn't know, but it sounds like a Sukuna problem.
"...and you're taking him there."
A/N: To all my readers, I assure you, I am writing, just taking a little break from everything. And yes, I have a bad case of brainrot, Sukuna being the culprit. Hope you enjoyed this though.
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20240329]
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sacharinee · 11 months
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hi m!!! what do you think about bf!pete getting his wisdom teeth out? and the reader taking care of him?? hed be so funny lmao xxD
-🧸
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pairing: bf!peter parker x reader w/c: 750 a/n: hi anon!! thnk u for requesting i had sm fun writing this! :)
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you’re sat at the dentist's office, cooped up in those uncomfortable chairs while you anxiously waited for your boyfriend’s surgery to finish.  
when peter ranted and moaned nonstop over his constant toothache, may decided enough was enough, and took it upon herself to set an appointment for her nephew. he wasn’t too keen on the idea. peter wasn’t afraid of anything ninety-nine percent of the time. dentists, however, wasn’t one of them. 
“can’t you stay here with me?” 
“stay? baby, no they’re gonna be drilling in your teeth.”
“but i-”
“and it’s gonna be bloody and nasty and i don’t wanna have to see all that.”
you turn towards him, only to come face to face with the boy’s horrified look, his eyes are wide and skin pale, mouth open in shock. you cringe at your response.
“but,” you stand, “you’re gonna do amazing, you’re gonna sit here and let the dentist do his magic.” you smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead.
“y/n/n, wait but-” you drop his hand on the way out, “bye, love you baby! be good!”
“y/n!”
two hours later swing by when a woman in navy scrubs comes to get you, announcing that peter is out of surgery. 
you knew that he would be high out of his mind on laughing gas, you just didn’t think it would be this bad. 
when you enter, the dentist is off to the side, looking over charts, packing a care bag for his patient.
peter’s head lulls towards your touch on his shoulder and slowly blinks at your presence. 
“hi baby, how you feeling?” you give him a beaming smile.
your boyfriend does his best to muster the same grin, but the amount of gauze in his mouth makes his rosy cheeks puff out, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth.
peter takes a moment to stare at you, “woaahh” he languidly slurs his words, “you’re so pretty.” 
you giggle at the comment when the boy gasps in horror, “wait, wait, i have a girlfriend, and she’s-” he looks up at you worriedly and slaps his forehead, “i’m in trouble.”
you can’t help but let out a laugh, he’s so dopey. 
your fingers touch the bottom of his chin gently and lift his head, “i’m your girlfriend, silly.” 
a loud gasp escapes peter as his face turns ecstatic, “get out!” you giggle at his reaction, the dentist glances over at you two and offers an admiring smile.
“so do we have sex?”
the awkward silence in the room kills you. 
your face blushes, as you shake your head and clear your throat, “peter, no.”
“no?!” he sighs in disappointment, “aw man.” your boyfriend pouts at the floor, “what have i been doing with my life.”
“oh my god, pete,” when the dentist turns away, you whisper and offer him a shrug, “sometimes we do.”
the delight on his face returns and his eyes go wide, “really?!”
the boy seriously has no filter.
as you’re packing his things, peter pauses and pokes his cheeks, “wait y/n,” he pauses, “my face kinda feels weird.”
you look around and hand him a mirror from the counter, “oh my god…” peter gingerly touches his face as you kneel down at him, “what’s wrong, baby?”
“my face… it’s so fat!” he’s got tears in his eyes and whining with a jutted bottom lip, “y/n,” sniffle. “will-” sniffle. “will you still love me if my face is so fat?” 
you roll your eyes and smile at his antics, “of course, i would.”
he seems pleased with your answer because he’s back to smiling. you go back to packing his things. “hey, mr dentist,” he woozily slurs, the gauze is practically spilling out his mouth, “d’you know i’m spider-man?”
you mentally facepalm at his obliviousness and mutter, “jesus christ.”
you turn to the older man who’s chuckling at his mental state and shrug, “he also thinks he’s luke skywalker from star wars.”
“but i am!-” “okay bug boy, lets go.”
“where we going?”
“home, sweetie.”
he gasps eagerly and raises his eyebrows at you, “to have sex?”
“oh my god.”
soon after the dentist explains and hands you everything he needs to recover, you guide peter to the car. 
he’s extremely dramatic. 
he’s got his hands around your shoulders, dragging himself on the floor, acting like he can’t walk - which he definitely can.
“peter, i know you can walk. c’mon help me out,” you beg.
“no, i can’t" he moans, "carry me,” he demands.
“what? no,”
“why not?”
“because you’re too heavy.”
and he’s crying all over again, “i knew it! you hate me 'cause you think my face is too fat!”
5K notes · View notes
onlyswan · 2 months
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summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k
content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3
playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu
> in which masterlist
note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!
the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.
your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.
jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.
“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”
“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”
“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”
you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”
you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.
you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.
“you said table six.”
“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”
your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.
“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”
“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”
you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.
the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.
“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”
and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.
you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.
with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.
LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.
“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”
it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.
you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.
you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.
you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.
you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.
but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.
much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.
does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?
“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”
he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.
“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”
jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.
you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.
this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.
you feel like you’re being turned inside out.
“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.
your distant stare remains.
he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.
he waits for you to come back to him.
he waits, and waits, and waits.
“jungkook… i want to go home.”
“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”
only for his world to crumble into pieces.
“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”
and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.
“i miss my mom so much.”
the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.
“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.
how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.
“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”
“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”
“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”
jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.
“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”
the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.
you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.
but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.
“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”
jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.
if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.
“jungkook…”
your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.
“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”
and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.
he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.
“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”
he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.
“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”
can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?
“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”
and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.
“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”
you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.
“jungkook…”
“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”
“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”
“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”
the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.
“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”
you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.
“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”
and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.
are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?
he is the only thing you have left to lose.
“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.
you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.
“i love you so much.”
he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.
“let’s go home?”
you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.
there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…
“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.
“what’s wrong?”
you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.
“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”
“baby…”
his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?
you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”
“jungkook, i can do it myself.”
he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”
you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.
“does it hurt a lot?”
“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.
perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.
“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”
“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”
in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?
“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.
you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.
“____, you’re too nice.”
“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”
he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.
“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”
he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.
“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”
“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”
you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.
“wake up, baby. we’re here.”
you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.
“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.
you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.
“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”
“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.
you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.
you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.
you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.
this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.
“you bought another house…”
“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”
your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.
the elevator dings.
he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.
your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.
the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.
beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.
“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.
you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.
“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”
he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.
“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”
he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.
“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”
he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.
“genius, right?”
“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”
“but i’ll be very, very careful!”
“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”
“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”
his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?
he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.
“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”
a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.
“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”
“i can see that.”
“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”
…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”
his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.
“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”
jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.
how long has he been planning this?
“you okay?”
you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”
“this is the kitchen!”
a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.
“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”
“what are you saying? there is something.”
the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.
“oh, that’s still there?”
the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.
“do you want it?”
“it’s not peach.”
“let’s move on then!”
there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.
“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”
he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.
“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”
you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!
“what’s here?”
you reach another hallway beside the living room.
“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”
he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.
“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”
“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.
“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”
you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.
he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.
“let’s stay like this for a while.”
“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.
the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.
“what’s that other room?”
“which one?”
“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”
he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”
“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”
“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”
“don’t make me change my mind.”
he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.
“we have a walk-in closet too!”
“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”
“but i like our small beds.”
“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”
“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”
you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”
“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”
jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.
“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”
“no!”
“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”
“given what more thought?”
“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”
if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.
“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”
“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”
a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.
“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”
“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”
“but i bleed every month.”
“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”
you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”
“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”
“it’s different living together!”
“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”
a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”
your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”
“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”
you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”
“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”
“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”
and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”
“okay?”
“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”
“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”
suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.
“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”
your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.
“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”
jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.
“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”
you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?
“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”
“when did it become a competition?”
“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”
“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”
you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.
“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”
and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.
“are you falling asleep standing up again?”
“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”
“what are we buying?”
your face lights up. “appliances first?”
“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”
as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”
“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”
“just because…”
you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.
“i feel sorry.”
“sorry? for what?”
“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”
“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”
“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”
he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”
a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.
“let’s be happy, baby.”
the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.
you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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jyoongim · 3 months
Text
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Based on ep 5 
ALASTOR
ALASTOR
BARKK BARK AOOOGAAA
Love a caring, defensive, sadistic, cannibilistic daddy demon
Title: Acts of service
Themes: slight submissive y/n, protective, blood, demon form, fluff, relationship dynamic, implied married couple, human life mentioned
Alastor can take a lot of shit…but even he has a breaking point….
(hehehehehehe)
Charlie’s hotel was not making the progress she wanted and so one day she shocked everyone with four words;
“My dad is coming”
The hotel was in a state of frenzy.
Everyone seemed excited to meet the King of Hell.
For once everyone was on one page and getting the place in tip top shape.
You had finally calmed Charlie down from her nth breakdown and had started primping yourself for the big man’s visit.
“Honestly its about time Luci showed his bright ass around here” you said as you patted some blush on.
Alastor was standing in the corner of your bedroom; oozing darkness menacingly.
He had been rather quiet and for once not making a fuss.
You almost smirked, whether or not he admits it
He adored Charlie 
And HATED being bested in anything.
“Youre glowering dear” you say as you finish applying your flawless makeup.
“I just dont see what all the hoopla is about. So what if the Morningstar is coming…its just charlie’s dad” Alastor grumbled in a rant.
You giggled “Yea but this is important to Charlie so no funny business mister”
His big smile tightened and his eyes narrowed “no promises”
You and Charlie greeted Lucifer
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”
He damned near choked Charlie in a bear hug before turning to you
“Long time no see Sis” you hummed and gave him a big squeeze, but not before hissing lowly in his ear “do not fuck this up Luci”
He swallowed and you grinned before walking to stand by Alastor.
You nudged him towards Lucifer and reluctantly he introduced himself.
“Alastor sir pleasure to put a face to the name”
Lucifer shot you a look before eyeing Alastor suspiciously
“Uuuhh and you are?”
Alastor eye twitched “i’m the host of the hotel…you might know me from my radio broadcast hmm?”
Lucifer shrugged “nope guess thats why Charlie named it the HAZbin hotel”
You facepalmed and charlie was visibly getting nervous as you could literally see Alastor’s ego flare
“HA HA HA actually i came up with that”
“Ha Ha Ha well it wasnt very clever!”
They were in each other faces now
Alastor growled “ha ha HA fuck you”
You interjected, getting between the two, mostly Alastor
 “Boys Boys reign it in PLEASE” you threw a look at Alastor, who straightened his suit.
You sighed and turned your attention to Charlie 
“Dear why dont you tell your dad the whole point of your hotel” you gave a tense smile.
“Y/n is right dad! Alastor here has been tremendous help with the hotel…i wouldnt have made it this far without him” lucifer made a face.
You could see the wheels turning in Alastor’s head
He was up to no good.
“Yeeeeessss we are all very proud of Charlie. I am honored to fulfill any wish this lovely young lady has” 
He hugged Charlie and it took all of your willpower to not laugh at Lucifer’s annoyed look.
You giggled as he completely ignored Alastor and in turn to the others.
Charlie introduced her girlfriend and you could literally see his shoulders ease.
“OH thank Hell youre a lesbian! Cool cool i totally approve of THIS!”
Lucifer went on to give luxurious suggestions to Charlie, which Alastor shot down.
You sighed lovingly at Alastor’s antics.
He might have been the big bad Radio Demon, but he really was a softie when he wanted to be.
Definitely would have made a great dad…
You blushed at the thought.
Lucifer and Alastor were currently bickering with each other about who was the better father figure.
When suddenly the door flew open and a short, voluptuous, 1920 styled woman bursted in.
Your eyes widened “Mimzy?”
She squealed and embraced you in a tight hug, you kissed each other’s cheeks in greeting
“Ooooh y/n darling how you’ve been? Its been too long” she asked.
You grinned and gave a shrug “ooh it hasnt been that long has it?”
She greeted Alastor and gave you an astonished look “Y/n darling you still with dollface here?” you felt everyone eyes shift to you and you felt your eye twitch a bit but said nothing.
She begged to have you chat with her but you told her youll catch up her later, as you were helping Charlie and Alastor with Lucifer.
Not many people knew what your relationship with Alastor, hell not many people knew about Alastor life in general.
And you kind of liked to keep it that way but Mimzy was a talker if you ever saw one.
But Mimzy was not was one to just show up just out of nowhere…
She wanted something
You and Alaster were trailing behind Charlie as she explained the purpose of the hotel when Husker appeared to the two of you, addressing Alastor
“Boss a word with you” you quirked a brow when Alastor kindly shooed you off to have his discussion. You walked a bit aways before morphing into the wall and listened in on their conversation
“What is it?”
“You and I both know that Mimzy only pops her ass up when she needs somethin, that bitch is trouble and who knows what kind of shit she got into to come running to you”
True. 
“Dont worry so much Husker, its nothing i cant handle, besides who in their right mind would cross me?” 
“I mean…youve been gone a while and it aint like no one knows why-”
He was cut off
“And they dont need to know” that sharp smile was tight
Alastor patted Husker’s head condescendingly; like a pet.
Husker shoved his hand away angrily.
“Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash”
You saw Alastor glitch, eyes turning to black and glowing dials
Uh oh.
“What did you say?”
Your eyes widened as contract chains shot out at Husker, wrapping around his neck
Alastor was menacingly toying with the chain as he growled
“If you ever say that again i will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams for every disrespectful wretch WHO DARES TO QUESTION ME!”
Husker was shaking like a leaf and you were stunned; Alastor rarely ever lost his composure.
When Alastor disappeared down the hall you morphed to Husker to ease his nerves
“Oh Husker are you ok?” you asked as you tried soothed his nerves.
He shook it off (not really) and grumbled “fucking asshole”
You headed back to the lobby with Husker when a loud BAM was heard.
What the fuck?
“Mimizy you skank c’mon out here!”
You see Mimzy hide behind the bar and raise a eyebrow.
You frown, going to heave her over the counter
“Mimzy care to enlighten me about what the actual fuck is that” 
She sweatdropped “i-i may or may not have borrowed some money from a loan shark”
Your frown deepened “how. Much. money?”
“O-o fifty…grand”
You hissed.
The hotel was shaking and was being heavily damaged
You pulled charlie out of the way as some debris fell from the ceiling and hissed at Lucifer “arent you gonna do something!?”
He was trying to make this a life lesson and now was NOT the time.
You growled and went to march right outside to give those goons a piece of your mind when a clawed hand settled on your shoulder.
“Dont worry dear ill handle this”
“But Alastor…”
His smile turned wild “its about time i reminded everyone why i am here…a reminder to not fuck with the Radio Demon!”
He transformed. Antlers out and black tentacles flaring.
You watch him grow big in size and rip the gangsters apart, eating a few.
You smiled wickedy, hells he was hot
After he had his fun he shrunk back to normal and you launched yourself at him
Lovingly you purred into his neck “you ok now?”
He grinned, nuzzling you “i missed blowing off some steam”
Mimzy approached the two of you and you frowned, opening your mouth to say something but Alastor beat you to it
“I think you should go Mimzy. Now”
She was shocked. Usually Alastor let her off the hook and it was you who normally told people off.
“Y-you cant be serious…”
His eyes narrowed “I mean it. You brought danger to this place just for me to clean up your mess. I wont allow that here”
He was putting his foot down. You leaned into him, happy.
You flashed her a sharp grin “i agree Mimzy, you should go”
She blinked “you backing up your hubby over ya own friend? y/n!”
She hissed at Alastor “you think i dont know you? You cant really give a shit about this place”
You crossed your arms, giving her a pointed look, hissing as you felt your eyes glow in anger “leave Mimzy. While i’m the one being nice”
She huffed and turned to leave, but not before flipping you both off.
You relaxed and turned to Alastor, who was looking smug.
Tugging on his bowtie you craned his neck to your level, purring
 “Bedroom now dear”
His ears perked and his smile grew wider “feeling big emotions doll?”
“Ooh you have no idea”
With a flick of your hand the hotel was restored and you were whisking the lanky red demon upstairs to blow off some steam of your own
….
extra:
"what y/n and Alastor are married?!"
charlie blinked "yea i thought you guys knew that"
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
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kombuuuu · 10 months
Note
Can you write Miles 42 where you do that one TikTok prank on him where someone keeps texting you and he gets mad and stuff and tries to look at your phone 😭
Give me the Phone.
E42!Miles x Fem!Reader
“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”
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i’m gonna be real i have no clue what that trend is but the idea was adorbs 🤭
The decision to mess with him, in hindsight, may have been stupid.
But you just couldn’t help it.
So you hit record, and your friend, Anita, started bombarding you with texts, in on the bit.
It was so fun just to toy with him every now and then, get him riled up. A little angry, it was all in good fun. So it didn’t really matter in the long run, he always forgave you.
And the way he would eye you from across the room, as you giggled and smiled at your phone—.
Was pretty much worth it.
He was unable to do anything about it though, with everyone else around. Of course, you’d decided to mess with him in front of his family. When you couldn’t be called out.
His Mom and Uncle were barely two feet away from him, talking amongst themselves and occasionally addressing someone else at the inconveniently timed family gathering.
He watched you snort again as you glanced at the message, quickly smirking at the mystery-person’s notif.
No one is so eager to text with a friend. No one giggles and smiles when talking through text.
You don’t giggle at texts.
Miles leans back from his seat on the couch opposite to you, coffee table between the two of you. He drapes a hand over his knee and watches as your eyes trail him up.
He tips his head back and sighs, glaring at you from under his eyelashes. Your posture straightens and you eye his Adams apple before your screen flashes again, and your attention is gone.
This goes on for around another eight minutes before he loses his mind. He groans, checking the faces around you both to see no one in his belated family paying either of you attention.
Slowly, he gets up. Stretching to his full height and glowering down at you. You glance up at him innocently, another small smirk settled on your lips and he huffs a quick breath.
Miles rolls the joints in his neck and you can’t help but observe the way his tense posture makes him look ever-more menacing. A jolt of attraction shocking your spine.
The way his smirk curved his soft lips up,how his sunken eyes glowed threateningly on an up-cast light.
“C’mon, Mami.”
“Hmm?”
“Get up.”
He side stepped the table, being close to you now, his height towering over you from your sat position.
You sheltered the phone screen, making sure he couldn’t see you record.
“I’m busy—,”
“Now, Chiquita.”
“You can’t make me.”
The way you pouted up at him drove him mad, your eyebrows furrowing in defiance and your tone lifting.
"Bueno, entonces hagamos la cuenta regresiva."
You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god Miles! I’m not a kid.” You placed your phone face down beside you on the couch. He hummed.
Lowly, under his breath he spoke, “Three.”
“Fuck—, whatever fine. I’m up.” You roll your eyes, and push yourself up, grabbing your phone as you went.
“Talk t’me like a damn child.”
“‘S cause ya’ actin’ like a damn child.”
“Am not.”
He paused, dropping his face deadpan, and you snorted at the irony.
“See?”
“Whatever, loser. You’re just jealous i’m more fun.”
“Not what I’m jealous about.”
He slipped his palm over yours, linking your fingers with his. A few of his family members glanced your way, and you shifted in embarrassment before they looked away, paying you no mind.
Miles dragged you along with him, politely excusing himself, and you, from people who approached and made his way to his room. You following begrudgingly behind him.
He opened the door with a grip too tight, swung it open and clambered you both inside, before letting go of your hand and slowly shutting the door behind you both. Placing the key in the lock, twisting but not taking it out.
Never the type of man to trap you, or intimidate — you kind of felt bad for messing with him.
His back still to you, you let your knees hit the bed before sitting on the ledge, hands folded neatly in your lap and phone under them, shielding the screen.
Miles cracked his neck, muscles going taught before relaxing again as he turned. Eyes catching your own with a certain glee in them that felt more challenging than happy.
“Wanna ‘xplain yourself, mami?”
You huffed, only watching and pouting as he approached. Crossing your arms over your chest, and griping your forearms.
Unknowingly leaving your phone vulnerable to the man now much closer to you, just like before. Except now there wasn’t anyone stopping him from fucking with you.
“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”
Your phone buzzed.
You bit your lip and evaded smiling, smugness coming from the small win.
“Mm.” The low rumble of his voice made your eye flick back to his face, curiosity lacing your features for a spilt moment before you schooled them.
While unfocused on anything but his face, he took the opportunity to swipe your phone right from your lap, reflexes much quicker than yours.
“Hh—, Wait—!“ Your hand outstretched to try and catch the phone from his grip, but he was quicker. Holding the phone up high and placing his other hand over your shoulder so you couldn’t stand to grab it.
“Who the fuck—,” He flipped the screen toward himself, and when all he saw was your camera app open, recording for 13 minutes, and a notification from Anita, his smirk raised. One only of disbelief.
“You kiddin’?”
The camera was fixed on your sat body, and he stopped the recording, clicking Anita’s name and watching the texts appear.
You still there?
Did he find out LMAO
BROOO ARE U GETTING UR ASS BEAT LMFAOAOA
i’ll beat his ass tho fr, fight for u bbg 🫶
sorry in advance pumpkin 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
tiktoks gonna luv this
“Anita.”
He let his gaze fall on you, amusement and annoyance dancing with his emotions.
“No..” You pouted, dragging your hands back to your laps and smiling sheepishly.
“Oh my fuckin’ god, [Name].”
“It’s a prank?” Even you sounded unsure.
He snorted and glared at you, pushing you back until your back hit the bed.
“You wan’ make a tiktok? We don’ make one.”
“Wha—“
You heard the record button play before you could speak, and felt your instincts kick in a second too late bfore a pillow hit your face. You spluttered—
—Before clambering up the bed to get a pillow too.
“Oh, Fuck you!”
“Nah, Mami, wrecked your chances.”
You grabbed a pillow and swung back behind you, hitting him square in the face before he snatched it off you with a playfully pissed expression. One hand still holding the phone towards you.
You smirked at him and flipped the camera off. “Eat shit, loser.”
“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.”
You squealed and laughed, trying to grab another pillow in time before your ankle was grabbed and dragged down the bed, your laughter following.
You did in fact, regret it.
+BONUS!!!
“How’s it feel to fuckin’ lose?”
Miles grinned behind the camera, braids loosened slightly due to the tussling between you two—,
“Die.”
He laughed and ended the recording.
“Y’know I love you?”
You pouted, resisting the need in your fluttering heart to smile up at him.
“Yeah, yeah— whatever, big boy.”
“Good, cause i’m posting that.”
“Morales!”
DONE!!! HOPE I DIDNT BUTCHER IT :3
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navybrat817 · 4 months
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I need Bucky to blow my back out. 😮‍💨
Don't we all, nonnie?
You Asked for It
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 700 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Wet Wednesday blurb.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“I’d be better if Bucky blew my back out. How are you?”
You’re certain he doesn’t hear you say that in passing to Natasha after she asks how you’re doing, but super soldier hearing and whatnot. He smirks when he repeats the words in his head. The Sergeant may be an old man, but he isn’t that out of touch. He knows enough that you need him to pound your pussy and fill you to the brim. Fuck you so hard and so good that you won’t be able to close your legs or walk by the time he’s done with you.
Dirty girl.
He takes it as a compliment that you need his cock to have a better day and he’s more than happy to take advantage of that. And why wouldn’t you want him? You both know you have a greedy cunt and find any excuse under the sun for him to be inside you, your body always wet and ready even when he doesn’t stretch you out.
Not that he’s complaining. He’s shocked he doesn’t have a permanent hard-on with you around. Your pussy is the gateway to heaven, miliking him for all he’s worth. Because isn’t it a form of worship to paint your wet and quivering walls with his seed?
So later once he has you in his bed where you belong, he spends a minute just looking at your twitching hole as he spreads your glistening folds. His cock throbs and he doesn’t waste time making you beg. Instead of splitting you open the way he wants to, he slowly and deliberately slides into you inch by inch. You welcome him home with whimpers and sighs.
He wants to fuck you until you cry how much you love him.
But he doesn’t move once his hips are flush with yours, giving you a smirk at your dazed and confused stare.
“You know,” he begins, tracing a wet finger along your cheek as you try to wiggle your hips. “If you wanted me to pound your sweet little pussy so bad, all you had to do was say so.”
You narrow your eyes and purposely clench around him, almost hard enough to make him throw his head back. “Then do it, Barnes.”
He feels all too smug when he pulls out and thrusts back in with enough force to make you jerk underneath him. “Should’ve put that pretty mouth of yours to good use first, but we have time for that later.”
For now, he gets to work.
It’s like time stands still when he pins you down and makes you take every single thrust. He can’t help but lean down to bite your bottom lip, wanting you lost in pleasure. “So fucking wet. Making a mess all over me. Fuck, you take me so well,” he praises, his gaze leaving your face only for a moment to watch your tits move.
Yeah, I'm fucking those later.
“Please,” you moan, trying to raise your hips to meet his. “Fuck me.”
“I am fucking you,” he groans, plunging himself deeper.
“Harder,” you beg.
You asked for it.
Minutes may pass. Maybe hours. But broken moans leave your lips as your pussy keeps opening up and taking Bucky in. Just like it was made to.
“Fuck, baby, I almost forgot what a slut you are for my dick,” he grunts before your eyes flash. You’re not quite cock drunk yet and he only chuckles when he thrusts harder, making your pretty eyes roll back. “Not just a slut. My slut.”
“Your slut,” you moan.
He glances down and watches how you swallow every inch of him. “Fuck yeah, you are. And you’re gonna take every fucking drop of me after you come,” he grunts. That has you moaning before he even gets a thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles just the way you like it. He knows you’re on the verge of a powerful orgasm and wants it to consume you. “Come. Don’t you fucking hold back.”
He feels your release coat his cock as you scream his name, almost triggering his own as he tells you what a good fucking girl you are. But he’s not done yet. Not by a long shot.
He’ll blow your back out before the night is over.
And if you’re lucky, he’ll put a baby in you, too.
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Um. Sorry? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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Note
Maybe I should have problems, but I love. With a happy ending. After all, I love your writing! ❤️ I wanted to ask about Lando. Where the character has a girls' night out and ends up getting drunk, When Lando goes to pick her up she simply says "please don't touch me, I have a boyfriend". Lando ends up trying to convince her that she is his girlfriend, but she simply punches him back and tells him to stay away, but in the end she recognizes him and feels really bad about it, a night of care when they get home maybe?
I'm from Brazil, sorry for the bad English ❤️ I would be very happy if you wrote about this, but if you are not enthusiastic about the idea you can discard it, I appreciate your comfort. 💕
Keep Your Hands To Yourself - LN
I love this idea. I have done a like post-girls night out fic before but she wasn't so drunk she doesn't recognise him, she kind of just lets Lando take care of her. But this sounds a little funny, I hope I do it justice.
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Lando being home means his girlfriend is home too and while her boyfriend is sitting doing a stream with Max, she is out on the town with the girls.
Usually y/n is the mother of the group, pretty responsible and takes care of herself and everyone else. So Lando trusts her to be safe on a night out without him there needing protect her.
However when his phone rings with her name popping up, Lando is confused and almost worried.
"Lando? Lando?" A voice that is definitely not his girlfriend's calls out, but it is the voice of one of her friends.
"Hey, what's up? Is everything ok?" Lando asks while hearing his girlfriend's voice which is very much loud in the background making him laugh. "Is that y/n?"
"Lando, you have to come get her. She got kicked out the club for throwing up. She's going ballistic and she won't listen to anyone." Y/f/n states sounding nearly desperate. "Please, come get her. None of us have seen her like this and we don't know what to do."
"Fucking hell, she sounds feral mate." Max chuckles before they hear her voice.
"I'm not drunk! I'm trying to get a fucking McDonalds, stop getting in my way!"
"Alright, I have you location. I'll come and get her. Do you guys need a ride?" Lando asks making the young woman sigh in very obvious relief.
"No, we're not done for the night but she's too far gone and we can't get into anywhere else with her like this."
"Yeah, yeah. That's fine." Lando nods standing up with a smile as he pats Max's shoulder. "I gotta go mate, y/n is going feral."
"Let me know how that goes. I can't imagine y/n being that drunk...she's always so chill."
"Yeah, wish me luck."
-
Getting the location, it's not hard to miss where his girlfriend is since there's a crowd of young women around her as she sits on top of a wall.
"Alright, I'm here. Hey, princess." Lando smiles parting the crowd who practically vanish in seconds. Presumably happy to hand over the drunk woman and get on with their night, they trust Lando to take care of her and get her home safely.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Now sober, y/n is a sweet, softly spoken girl who he's rarely heard swear.
"Very funny, y/n. Come on home time." Lando laughs moving towards her, his hands moving to takes hers so he can pull her up.
But when her own hand comes up and he finds himself with a burning cheek. Out of sheer shock, her grabs her hand pushing it down, mainly to make sure she's not going to follow up with a backhand.
"Don't touch me. Who the fuck do you think you are? Coming over here, trying to grab at me. My boyfriend would run you over with his car."
Lando's seriousness over her reaction is replaced with trying to hold a laugh in from her saying he'd run someone over with his car.
"Baby...I am your boyfriend." Lando states making rage burn behind her eyes. "I'm Lando Norris, I'm your boyfriend. You're my girlfriend. We met 7 months, 3 weeks and 2 days ago. You'd never forgive me if I forgot that but you let me get away with not knowing hours, minutes and seconds."
That's a real conversation they had, as a joke she said she allow him to not have to know hours minutes and seconds but months, weeks and days were mandatory. It was a joke, but Lando has been keeping count.
"Can I please take you home? You're never this drunk." Lando pleads and thankfully everything simmers away from behind her eyes for a moment as recognition lights up behind her drunk gaze.
Tears well in y/n's eyes as he hand raises again and she gently rubs his cheek which is still burning hot from the slap.
"I hit you."
"It's ok."
"No. No. It's not." Y/n hiccups making him sigh. A new level of drunk unlocked with her but at least she knows who he is now. "I'm so sorry."
"Baby, it's ok." Though it did sting.
"No, I hit you so hard." Y/n hiccups very much upset.
"How about we get you some McDonalds and then we can get you home and you'll be ok?" Lando offers making her somewhat whine but she nods sighing as he holds out his hands to help her up and thankfully this time he doesn't get slapped the fuck out of.
Her hands are in his and she is pulled up onto wobbly legs before she swallows thickly and she does have to dodge Lando trying to kiss her.
"No. I vomited in the bushes, you don't want to kiss me right now." Y/n states making Lando grimace but nod at her.
They get to his car quick enough where Lando fusses over her, making sure her seatbelt is clipped in and secure and putting her bag gently in the footwell before taking her shoes off too.
"Comfortable?" He asks making her nod a little but the guilty expression is still very prominent on her face. "Baby, I'm completely fine. Just lets me know that you won't stand for anyone else touching you and you can defend yourself when you need to."
"There's a mark."
"Stop, baby. I'm ok, I just wanted to get you home. It's alright." Lando continues to assure her before smiling lightly. "I love you and we're going to go get you some food then get you home, clean you up because you're a bit mucky and then we're going to sleep. Both of us. Does that sound ok?"
They get her what she thinks is an excessive amount of McDonalds but she does eat more than half of it, much to Lando's amusement and then when they get back to the house. Lando decides to carry her out of the car to the indoors.
"Ok, are you still hungry?" Lando asks since she's still holding the McDonald's.
"No. I'm full." Y/n murmurs certainly sobered up a little from her earlier state thanks to the food.
"You're full?" Lando questions making her nod a little before she's placed down on her feet and he places the bag of food on the counter. "Alright, clean up time."
He gets her make up off first, something he's beginning to be a pro at doing correctly because he likes to do it when she's not been on a night out too. Following up with brushing her teeth twice, just wanting to make sure that the food and residue vomit is all washed from her mouth.
"In the shower." Lando instructs after turning on the water and making sure it's just below the temperature that he dupes "the bowls of hell" since his girlfriend does like to boil herself alive in the shower and step out looking like a lobster.
"Thank you."
Y/n gives herself an aggressive scrub up and down while Lando smiles just watching her. He might be trying to take care of her and make sure she's all safe and sound in her room, but there's no denying he enjoys seeing his girlfriend naked in nearly any certain circumstance.
"Towel, please baby." Y/n murmurs making him smile and stand up unfolding the towel that he's been waiting with and wraps around her. Finally getting a kiss that he feels almost having been deprived off before now since he didn't get a kiss after she'd brushed her teeth.
Eventually she's dried off, Lando does blow-dry her hair for her before they finally climb into bed and he sighs as she curls up against him. No surprise that y/n is quick to fall asleep. Completely exhausted and her sleep very nicely aided by the alcohol still very much present in her system.
No doubt he'll be helping nurse her through a hangover tomorrow, but for now he just enjoys her cuddliness and quiet.
2K notes · View notes
froggibus · 7 months
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Give The People What They Want - Billy Loomis & Stu Macher
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Pairing: Stu Macher x f! camgirl! reader (fem pronouns + has a pussy) x Billy Loomis
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: you enlist the help of Billy and Stu to give your followers what they want--you losing your virginity
CW: camgirl! reader, slight modern! AU, live porn, exhibitionism, slight dubcon, threesome, double penetration (in the pussy), fingering, cum play, lots of cum, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, riding, backshots, praise/degradation, rough sex
hi sorry this is late i procrastinated writing it all day. also i have no idea what onlyfans/other porn streaming sites look like so im so sorry this whole post looks like a twitch chat lmfao
Kinktober Masterlist
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PapaSugar471 has gifted $25: ride something for us baby
Camfan97: yeah stretch out that little pussy
You look at the chat and pretend to act shocked. “I don’t know if I can take something other than my fingers…”
You dip a finger teasingly into your dripping hole, leaning back on your bed to show them just how tight you are. You arch your back and whine, slowly pumping it in and out. 
“See how tight I am?” You whine and push another finger into your pussy, “anything else is too big.”
WesC1996 has gifted $100: i would give anything to watch that pussy get ruined 
PapaSugar471: our girl needs a good fuck 
“You guys really wanna see me get fucked, hm?” You roll over onto your hands and knees, arching your back to give the webcam an even better view of your entrance. “You wanna see my poor, virgin pussy get ruined?”
You start to work yourself open on your fingers, lewd wet sounds starting to fill the air. You can hear notifications coming from your chat room, but you’re so lost in the pleasure you don’t turn around to look. 
“F-fuck,” you whine and slip another finger inside, your gummy walls stretching around your knuckles. “I need cock so bad!”
The pleasure builds inside of you, threatening to explode out. There’s a sound behind you, a sound not from your stream. It almost sounds like your door opening, but you ignore it and focus on the way your fingertips dig into your walls.
Camfan97: who is that
Y/nluvr: ummm what
PapaSugar471: turn around
Blaviusx89: mods who is this guy
You’re so close to cumming when hands suddenly grab your hips, shoving you face first into the bed. You squeal, turning around to come face to face with a tall man in a white mask. 
You feign surprise, letting out a blood curdling scream at the knife brandishing man in front of you. You almost applaud yourself for how realistic your scream sounds. 
Stu looms over you, his back to the camera but out of the way just enough that you can still be seen. He grabs your knees and folds them into your chest, holding your legs up. He presses a hand down over your mouth, clamping down so you can’t be heard.
Since your followers have been hounding you lately to get fucked on stream, you thought you’d at least make it fun. That’s how you ended up asking Stu and Billy for a little favour. 
He dips a gloved finger into your aching pussy, that pressure returning. You were so close to cumming before he showed up and now all you want is more. He fingers you slowly, refusing to give you what you want so quickly. You try to thrust your hips into him and drive his finger deeper, but he moves away every time you do.
Finally, he slips a second finger inside of you and starts to thrust faster. The width of two of his fingers is more than the three you just had inside of you, and your pussy strains to take all of him. He pumps them in and out of you at a devastating pace, your juices starting to splash upwards. Loud splashing noises fill the room, Stu’s assault on your pussy not letting up.
The pressure in your stomach is almost painful. Your walls tremble around his hand and threaten to let loose the waves of pleasure building inside of you. You drown out the rush of notifications from your laptop, all of your focus on your impending orgasm.
Stu’s hand on your mouth slips down to your neck, squeezing as you cum. Your whole body convulses, juices running down your pussy, into your ass and onto your bed.
He leans in and releases the pressure from your neck. “Look at your chat,” he runs a finger across your puffy clit, “I think they like this.”
PapaSugar471: so hot. now fuck her
Pepega69: this has to be scripted LOL
CamFan97: show that pussy whos boss
Y/nluvr: lucky guy….wish that was me
Stu gets up from your bed, pulling out his cock through an opening in the black robe. His cock is much bigger than you expected—fairly long and not bad in girth, either. The pink tip looks almost swollen, precum rolling off of it. 
He pushes the tip against your cheek, rubbing his length across your mouth. You stick out your tongue, looking up at him through your lashes as he smacks his tip onto your mouth. 
“Gonna fuck your face,” he groans. He looks at the camera, speaking through the voice changer, “should I fuck her face?”
Another rush of notifications fills the chat, the sound making you dizzy. Stu takes that as a yes, slowly pushing his cock into your mouth. Even with his tip tickling the back of your throat, you’ve just barely got half of his length into your mouth. Stu tangles a hand in your hair, using it like a rein to pull you closer.
You open your throat to him, wrapping your lips around his cock and sucking. His precum leaks into your mouth and runs down your throat. Stu tugs hard on your hair, pushing his cock beyond your throat and making you gag. You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose as his cock fills your mouth completely. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but you force yourself to take it. You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs as black spots start to crowd your vision.
When he pulls out, you look up at the camera with teary eyes, pouting with your swollen lips. The chat looks blurry and foreign to you, your head spinning from the lack of oxygen. 
Stu climbs on the bed behind you, grabbing your hips and shoving you forwards. Your face is only a foot or so away from the camera, everyone able to see the drool and precum around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. 
Stu rubs his cock across your ass and through your folds, whining quietly so that only you can hear him. Your pussy leaks with every touch, running down your thighs and making them stick together. He lines his cock up at your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in.
You’ve never been fucked before, and the stretch is almost painful. It knocks the air out of your lungs, but Stu tightens his grip on your hips and keeps going until he bottoms out. You whimper. He’s so deep that you can feel him in your stomach, the tip of his cock brushing up against your insides.
“He’s too deep,” you whine into the camera. 
Stu takes that as a sign to keep going, pulling out his cock until only the tip remains, and then thrusting back into you hard. You gasp involuntarily, losing your balance on your elbows and face planting into the bed. It takes a few more thrusts before the pain goes away completely, replaced with the delicious feeling of his cock spreading your walls apart.
You moan so loud you’re sure the whole neighborhood can hear it, your pussy squelching everytime he pulls his cock out. Stu’s thrusts are merciless, his hips colliding with your ass every single time. His fingertips dig into your sides, desperate for a grip to keep up his stamina. 
That familiar pressure builds inside of you, tying your stomach into knots, but it’s stronger than you’ve ever felt before. You look up at the camera through your lashes, your flushed and feverish skin making you look almost animated. There’s a loud burst of notifications, drowned out by your combined moans and the sound of skin on skin.
It only takes a few more thrusts before your muscles are giving out, legs shaking as you collapse. Stu manages to keep you up just long enough for him to cum inside of you, hot bursts of cum mixing with your juices as they pour out of you. He gives a few more sloppy thrusts, milking his cock with your tight cunt, before pulling out and letting you go.
Stu pulls you against his chest, laying you on your back. He hooks his knees around yours, spreading your legs wide for the camera. “Look at that,” he groans, his cum leaking out of your pussy. “Such a whore.”
Stu rubs up your chest, squeezing your tits together. He spreads your pussy for the camera, using another finger to push his cum back inside of you. “You’re not done yet, though.”
As if on cue, the door opens and a shorter man dressed in an identical costume enters. Billy. You stare at him as he stalks towards you, black robes looking like smoke in the dim red light of your room.
As soon as Billy enters the frame, your chat goes wild once again. He sits in front of the bed, mask only inches away from your aching, puffy pussy. He inhales your scent, almost moaning at the smell of sex.
“Thanks for warming her up for me,” his voice changer sounds almost identical to Stu’s. “Look at that stretched out cunt.”
Billy dips two fingers into your pussy, sliding them in and out easily. He thrusts them in only a few times before pulling them out and sucking on them, savouring the mixture of Stu’s cum and your juices.
He climbs over top of the two of you, “ready for me to fuck you?”
You bite your lip and nod. He swipes his thumb across your lips, prodding at you until you open up. He slips his thumb into your mouth and you suck, the taste of leather and sex heavy on your tongue. He trades his thumb for his index and middle finger, pushing them back so that they graze your throat.
His other hand reaches in for his cock, stroking it to life against your thigh. You can feel his hard length and the precum dripping off of it, your pussy starting to tingle in anticipation.
“How do you wanna fuck her?” Stu’s voice startles you, you’d almost forgotten he was there.
Billy slaps your pussy. “I think she’s had it too easy tonight,” he looks at the camera, “I think she should ride me.”
You shiver at the thought. Your pussy is already aching, all of your muscles weak just from fucking Stu. You look up at Billy pleadingly, but he just chuckles. 
He lays down flat on his back, stroking his cock in one hand. Stu pushes you off of his chest. Grabbing your hips to help guide you into Billy’s lap. You straddle his legs, your pussy dripping all over his robes and waiting cock. 
You lean forwards, pressing your tits against his chest, and reach back to grab his cock. Stu helps you guide it inside of you, both you and Billy moaning when his tip pops inside of you. You sit up more straight, rolling your hips back and taking him inch by inch. Billy keeps a vice grip on your hips while you ride him, helping you bounce up and down his cock.
He’s not as long as Stu, but he’s thicker, stretching you out even more. Your walls open up around him, pussy straining to take his girth. You rock your hips forwards until just his tip is inside before slamming them back down, almost screaming from the pleasure of his cock digging into your g-spot.
Billy starts guiding you up and down his length, thrusting his hips up desperately to get as deep inside of you as possible. Your orgasm builds much quicker this time, with the overstimulation and all. Your legs shake pathetically, your arms threatening to give out, but you still fuck yourself on him.
Billy slaps your ass hard, digging his fingers into the flesh. You whine and let yourself collapse onto his chest, barely moving on his cock as that pressure bursts and floods your body. Billy can feel your pussy contracting around him and the juices staining his costume, and decides to take mercy on you.
He wraps his arms around your back to keep you still and thrusts into you hard, his cock pistoning in and out of you faster than you can keep track. You lay on his chest, moaning weakly as he pummels your aching hole. It’s not long before his thrusts go sloppy and you feel his cock twitching inside of you, his hot cum coating your walls in white.
You moan from the feeling, eyes practically rolling back at how good he feels. Billy doesn’t pull out, his still hard cock resting inside of you. 
“You want another round?” He asks.
For a second, you think he’s asking you but as you raise your head, you see he’s asking Stu, who’s stroking his cock. You swallow hard at the idea of another orgasm, already sweaty and feverish from the last few.
“Are you?”
Both boys laugh. Billy grabs your hips and spins you around, your back pressed against his chest. He buries his cock as far as he can inside you, wrapping his arms behind your knees to pull them up. Stu admires your swollen and aching pussy, glistening from all the fluids its seen tonight before crawling on top of you.
“W-wait—” You cry out as Stu rubs the head of his cock on your clit, “both of you?”
“So cute,” Billy mumbles into your ear, “that you think you have a choice.”
Just as he says that, Stu starts forcing his cock inside of you. It’s a tight fit with Billy already in there, but he manages. You almost cry from the pressure, an insane mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming you. 
As soon as Stu bottoms out, you’re making a mess on their cocks again. Your pussy gushes around them, only acting as more lube for the two cocks inside of you. 
“Look at that,” Stu groans, “already cumming and we haven’t started fucking you yet.”
“I always knew you were a whore, y/n.”
Their degradation has no effect on you, your brain turning into mush from another consecutive orgasm. You’re so full that you worry you may burst, both cocks feeling impossibly big inside of you.
Stu starts to thrust at a steady pace, forced to take it slow with how tight it is inside of you. The three of you moan in tandem with every movement, their cocks rubbing your walls with every breath. Billy tightens his grip on your knees, drawing them up even more to give Stu better access.
Stu laughs, pressing a hand against your tummy. “I can see my cock inside of you.”
You look up through hooded lids and can just barely see the outline of his cock under his hand. He presses a little harder, thrusting faster as your pussy starts to loosen up. You’re barely aware of your own moans or the praise the men sing at you as they ruin your pussy.
They take turns thrusting, your juices drenching the three of you and your bedsheets. It feels like hours that they fuck you, cocks alternating pumping inside of you. Your stomach fills with knots, that familiar pressure coming back.
Stu cums first, cock twitching and shooting another massive load of cum inside of you. It sets off a chain reaction, with your orgasm coming next. You clench so tight around their cocks that it’s almost painful, all of your senses going numb. Black spots dance at your vision, threatening to send you spiraling into unconsciousness. Billy cums last, another load of cum packing your pussy impossibly tight. You’re so full it’s overwhelming.
Stu and Billy pull out, releasing you onto your soaked mattress. They move the laptop closer to you, Billy folding your legs up again so that the viewers can get a good look at your ruined pussy.
“She’s gushing cum,” Billy says into the voice changer. “So much for being a virgin….this one’s an absolute whore.”
They each hook a finger into your pussy, stretching it enough that the mixture of cum runs out of you. You weakly sit up, looking at yourself in the camera. Your pussy is open, filled with cum and swollen from the overstimulation. You hardly even recognize it.
Billy and Stu disappear off camera, probably headed off to get you water and a cold cloth, leaving you staring into the flashing red light of the camera.
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3K notes · View notes
bunnysbrainrot · 7 months
Text
But I’m Better
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Kintober prompt: Toys
Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x fem!Reader
Content: explicit sexual scenes, praise kink, guided masturbation, dom/sub (kinda) dynamic, size kink (kinda sorta). No outbreak AU, age gap (Joel is around his mid-40’s, reader is early/mid-20’s).
Summary: When something breaks, you always know who to call. Your dresser is broken, and you’re left hopeless. But what happens when Joel finds something peculiar in your drawer?
A/N: Y’all. I am so pissed right now because i wrote so much on my drive home, and it deleted because of a bad connection. i can’t recall everything i wrote, so i did the best with what i could remember. i hope it’s up to your liking!
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“Shit,” you grumble as you stare blankly at the clothes strewn across the floor. The knob of your dresser drawer sat stupidly in your hand, the mangled wood and metal mocking you. It looked completely ruined.
You thought about messaging your dad about the repairs, but chose against it. He was never exactly notorious for making these things simple - it would be a question of ‘So how did this happen?’ or ‘How did you manage to break it?’, and it really wasn’t worth the effort for you.
The knob sat in your hand, the screw that held it in the drawer was bent to the side, and incredibly dull. No surprise there, you thought.
To be fair, it was an old ass dresser, given to you by your grandmother when you were younger. It was weird to think that you’d had this dresser for over twelve years.
You bent over the pile of clothes and hoisted the hefty drawer in line with the empty space, grunting in frustration as you tried to shimmy it in. It was settled haphazardly and tilted backwards. Completely screwed up. You took your phone from your pocket and snapped a photo of your mangled dresser, sending it to Joel.
Dresser finally gave out, I guess. Knob fell clean off when I tried to open it
Almost immediately, Joel haha reacted to the image and began to type. He was unlike any other man you’d talked to before. Joel was timely and consistent, and he was always reliable. Even if he didn’t have the time to help, he would instruct you on how to solve an issue, but typically he helped you in person.
As much as you tried to deny it, your feeling for Joel had warped over the past few years. It began as a silly childhood crush - those early days where you and your friends joked about what older men were sexiest. Your friends had given you teasing looks when you mentioned Joel, and even more shocking was how long you’d liked him. It was a simple, harmless, childhood crush.
Until it wasn’t.
You were freshly eighteen and readying yourself for college when the realization hit you. After all those years having crushes on older guys, it would be considered okay. Weird and taboo, sure, but still allowed now that you were legally an adult.
Joel had come to your graduation dinner at the end of senior year. You remembered that night in vivid detail. More particularly, Joel’s presence set your skin ablaze with a new type of anxiety. At long last, you could freely crush on Joel, except that there was now a chance he could like you, too.
That night he’d passed you a small velvet box, tied neatly with gold ribbon. You opened the box to reveal a gold, oval-shaped locket with a simple clasp. Inscribed on the face of the locket were whorled spirals, breaking off as flowers scattered over the gilded surface. Gazing up at Joel, you couldn’t contain your joy as you gave him a quick hug. He briefly wrapped an arm around you, holding you close by the small of your back.
He broke away, smiling proudly at you below him.
“You did a great job, baby girl. You keep that up in college, and you’ll get by just fine.”
You were thankful dessert had arrived in time for you to turn your attention away, hiding your rouged cheeks. Joel probably didn’t remember that night, but you remembered every little thing.
You’d done your four years of college and after the endless nights with little to no sleep and hard work, you were finally graduated, and taking a gap year before considering anything further. You worked hard, and didn’t want to burn yourself out with more school immediately.
But now you were back home, and your sights were set on something else. It was a golden opportunity to spend time with Joel - time that you’d lost by being away for so long. Holiday visits and summer break was hardly generous enough to give you any alone time with Joel. You left for college as a timid girl, developed yourself as a whole, and came back a woman. A woman who knew herself and her wants.
And you wanted him, ached for him in a way you could neither define nor justify. He was almost twice your age, a wholly developed man with his own complex past and unsteady dating life.
Mr. Miller.
He had lived in the next neighborhood over for as long as you could remember. He and your dad met about ten years back at a ‘work thing’, as they described it.
Joel was kind and endlessly generous when it came to helping others. He was the first call when something broke, and the best person to have over when times were tough, despite his sometimes-rugged personality.
You’d gotten back in town over a week ago, and since then you’d seen Joel a few times, mostly to ‘inspect’ the furniture in your room - if anything had worn down over time and needed to be replaced, the whole nine. The both of you knew it was some bullshit excuse to see him at work, with those corded muscles flexing under his tanned skin, sending shivers down your spine.
That day, the two of you had enough bravery in you to flirt. It started out lightly, you gave more emphasis on Mr. Miller, until Joel requested you call him by his first name.
“Makin’ me feel like an old man, darlin’,” he teased. You remember how he sounded saying it, with a voice as thick and sweet as molasses.
Before he’d left he’d held you by the waist, staring a little too closely at your face, watching your eyes grow wide when he leaned toward you. He fixed your hair with a gentle hand, said your name, and trailed off, his eyes never leaving your lips.
He refused to kiss you that time. Though the time after that you’d decided to break the boundary, drinking him in like someone dying of thirst. You memorized his scent, the softness of his skin and rough, eager hands across your chest, between your thighs, your throat. You both had been greedy that night. It was a high that coursed through your senses. You needed him, more than you led on.
I’ll get my toolbox, looks like it could be some old hardware. Be over in 10.
You picked up around your room in the meantime, your heart fluttering in your ribcage with each passing second. The room had become stiflingly hot. Suffocating.
A knock at your bedroom door startled you out of your anxious stupor. You reached for the door and now faced a smug Joel Miller in the doorway.
“I could’ve met you at the front door, you know,” you chastised him playfully. Joel shifted his weight of his feet, pulling something from his pocket.
“Helps that I have a house key. Means I can help you even faster.”
You rolled your eyes at him and turned on your heels without a word, striding toward your broken dresser. Joel followed casually, craning his head to look around your room, at the decorations that covered the walls and ceiling. This was no longer the bedroom of a the kid he’d met all those years ago. No, you were fully your own woman now.
“Yup, the screw’s shot to shit,” he muttered, holding out the drawer’s knob to you. “See the end of it? Shouldn’t be that dull - gotta have it replaced every now and then.”
“Do you have the right screw for it?”
He nodded, popping open his toolbox and assessing the different screws in each compartment. His hands flexed with each movement, the veins branching across them shifted with every twitch and roll of his thick fingers. Your legs clenched while the most intrusive thoughts filled your head. Specifically those hands, and what you could imagine them doing to you.
Procuring the right screw, Joel handed it to you. You looked at him in innocent confusion.
God, those eyes. If he had the chance, Joel would look into them all day, to let himself get swallowed whole by their beauty. And when you looked at him all pretty like that, as if you had no idea what you were doing to him, it drove him wild. You knew exactly what you were doing when you’d flirt with Joel, but couldn’t gauge his reciprocation, or if he was even okay with the weird ‘relationship’ you had.
It had been confusing for long enough. Someone needed to make a move, and Joel wasn’t sure if you had it in you to do it. Neither were you.
“I wanna see you try it for yourself,” he explained.
“If it’s so easy, why can’t you do it?” you quipped with a smile, but still taking the knob in your hands. Joel gave no reply and waited patiently for you to back down and do it yourself.
It was far easier than you thought. You handed it back to Joel with a proud smile. His eyes thoughtfully scanned your face before finding home in your eyes.
“Smart girl. I knew you could do it.”
Heat rushed across your cheeks like a harsh sunburn, completely taken over by the brightness in his honeyed tone and brown eyes. Joel laughed at your reaction before he worked on the drawer knob, fiddling it into place. His hands rummaged through your drawer as he worked, and paid no mind to the clothes, though you just realized. This was your underwear drawer - full of lacy underwear, bras of all varieties, and one final item you prayed you hid well enough.
Joel’s hands pushed through your panties as you held your breath. After the drawer had fallen out you’d lazily threwn everything back in the drawer and paid no mind to its organization. Since it wasn’t on the bed or the floor, by accident, you were certain that Joel would cross paths with a toy of yours.
He struck something solid amidst the clothes. The material was solid and heavy, with a bit of give from the silicone. At that moment, he could’ve left it ignored, but there was no fun in that, he thought. Joel gripped the dildo at the base, pulling out of the tangle of clothes and handed it to you, flashing you with a smirk.
“You should find a better place for this,” he drawled. “Never know who could find it.”
You quickly grabbed it from him and scanned your room for another hiding spot, but nothing came to mind. Instead you plopped it back in the drawer, on the opposite side.
“Most people don’t get to go through my underwear, so you can’t give me shit for that,” you grumbled. Joel stood, groaning at the strain on his joints. You giggle at the noise, and gave him your usual teasing, “Old man.”
Ignoring your jab, Joel leaned against the chest of drawers, arms crossed over his chest in a stare down.
His voice was dark. It had become devious, knowing, and more stern than you’d imagined.
“You use it on yourself?”
You choked on your spit harshly, not expecting his question to be so direct. Joel placed a wide hand between your shoulder blades and gave you a pat, coaxing you back to normal.
“Joel,” you pant, catching your breath, “you can’t just- just ask me that.”
“And you wouldn’t be curious if the roles were reversed, I’m sure,” he said coolly.
The redness had returned to your cheeks while you debated on your answer, but your hesitation told Joel everything he needed to know. In the smallest way, you’d let it slip that you imagine him in your free time, not that it wasn’t the same case for him. If anything, it’d been worse. Every text you’d sent him set him ablaze; at night he thought about you in detail and palmed himself through his pants, or pumped his cock in a fervent hand as he thought of you, squeezing himself inside your tight pussy. Countless nights he’d stained himself with his own seed, wishing it was inside of you instead, where it belongs. That toy should be him, it always should’ve been.
“Do you?”
You huffed and turned away from him, striding toward the bed to adjust your pillows - any sort of casual distraction from the question.
“Why do you want to know?” you countered.
Joel’s hands brushed against your hips from behind, his feather-soft fingertips brushing across the skin above your jeans. You drew in a breath as Joel whispered next to your ear.
“Because I’m a selfish old bastard, and I’m wondering what it looks like.”
“What what looks like?” you ask softly. You knew precisely what he meant but you wanted to hear something from him anyway.
He burrowed his head at the crook of your neck, gently kissing your skin up to the soft spot below your ear. His breath flew over your skin hot and heavy, sending a new wave of heat to your core.
“I want to see your face when you’re all filled up. I gotta see what your little pussy looks like when it’s all stretched out.”
You pushed your hips back flush with his to find a growing bulge trapped in his jeans. Joel rolled his hips into your ass, groaning at the constraint of the rough denim.
“Joel,” you breathed.
He mumbled against your neck, “What is it baby girl?”
Shoving your ass against his crotch, you whined, “I need you. Please… need you so badly.”
His hum rumbled against your skin, sending goosebumps rolling across your arms. A hand wound up to your hair and tugged a good handful back toward him. You gazed up at him with those beautiful glossed over eyes he dreamed about. He pictured this look on your face for a few years now, and he finally had the joy of seeing it, of causing it himself.
“Not givin’ it to you yet, baby,” he tugged once more on your hair when you whined in protest, “Gonna try something different first.”
In one movement you were facing him, finding two dark eyes staring you down, pupils both blown in lust. Joel gripped the back of your head carefully now, cradling you like something precious, something coveted. This was exactly how he saw you. You were someone to protect and take care of, and now it’s shifted to something far more intimate. Joel vowed to himself that he would make you feel every ounce of pleasure you’d been missing out on. All those nights where his hand replaced your pussy built up a frustration only you could truly fix.
Joel crashed his mouth to yours, as he’d done twice before this, and the kiss sent the same heat through your body. You clenched your thighs in a pitiful attempt to gain pressure against your swollen clit, nestled sweetly between your soft folds, soaking your underwear with your slick.
He pressed you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. The kiss was no short of pure ecstasy. The way his stubble scratched against your cheeks, the way his breathing grew heavy when you bit at his lower lip, the way his tongue edged into your mouth to explore every inch.
You gasped when Joel pulled away, watching him step to your dresser and draw out the dildo you’d hidden back inside. He turned to you with the toy in hand, wobbling slightly in his grip.
“‘S a pretty big one, sweetheart, you actually use all of it?” his voice was far too casual for a man holding your dildo.
You offer him half a nod, “Kind of. I’ve been trying to get… all the way in.” Joel assessed your words before he joined you on the bed, holding the toy against your stomach, at the base of your pelvis. He let out a low whistle when he saw where the toy’s length ended at your tummy, past your bellybutton.
“All of that inside you… felt pretty daring getting one so big, huh?”
That wasn’t the case and it was the most embarrassing part. The truth is, you chose the size based on your image of Joel. You didn’t even know how endowed he was, but you let your fantasy of him take over. That, and the time your hand brushed against his erection during your last kiss.
“I wanted to see if it would feel like you,” you admitted.
Joel’s eyes crinkled with his laugh, “Darlin’, a toy don’t compare to the real thing. Not really.”
You jabbed his arm at his teasing, “Listen, I’m doing the best with what I got, okay?”
“Yeah, but it’s not the best you could get, now is it?” he purred, pushing forward to plant a kiss on your neck. You shook your head, knowing he was exactly right. The toy would never really feel like the real thing.
You glanced up at him with a nervous expression, furrowing your brows, “What did you want to do?”
Joel looked at you coolly and leaned back onto his elbows. He eyed you, then the toy in his hand, then back to you.
“You gonna make it fit - take it all the way - and I’m gonna help.”
Crimson shaded your cheeks at the thought, staring nervously at the toy. Surely you were wet enough to take it, but the action of pushing further, to get it in completely, had been a challenge. In hopes to boost your bravery, you hunched over him, kissing him harshly as your hands flew to your pants. You fumbled with the waistband and slid them off of you, until you were stark naked, laid and bare before Mr. Miller.
He simply drank you in as you sat nervously in the lamplight. Joel eyed you darkly, his eyes raking from your quivering thighs, your slightly hidden sex - masked by your censoring hands, to your perk nipples atop each soft breast, and to your face, eyes half-lidded in pleasure adjoined with your soft panting.
“Jesus.”
You ducked your head sheepishly, shaking slightly to decline the compliment. Joel looked you over fondly as his hand found your cheek, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. You glanced down at him, still giving you that goofy smirk and a excited glint in his eye.
Joel kept eye contact as his hand traveled down your body - through the valley between your breasts, down your tummy, to just above your slit, daringly close to dipping between your wet folds. You pushed yourself into your knees and knelt at his side, your aching cunt exposed to him in the dimly lit room.
He trailed his hand up each thigh, halting just before he reached your pussy. Each touch was carefully light in a way that made your whole body shudder against him. A single finger slithered up your thigh once again, finally finding its way through your slit, nestling comfortably against your clit and drawing lazy circles.
You cried out against a hand held at your mouth. Joel’s hand smelled of metal and bourbon, mixed with pine and lemongrass. He smelled smoky and fresh and completely warm against your face. You bestowed your face into his palm as he gained a rhythm on your clit, drawing out the smallest cries against his skin.
“Nice and wet for me already, darlin’, that’s good… that’s such a good girl. Drippin’ and ready.”
Another dumb nod has him chuckling while his finger skirted lightly across your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until your stomach grew tighter.
“Gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum for me already?” His comment draws another moan from you, falling like a melody past your bitten lips, a chorus straight from heaven, just for Joel.
“It’s okay, baby doll, go ‘head. Cum for daddy,” he said sweetly, the Southern drawl thick through his words.
You unravel around him, jolting your hips as your orgasm takes over your senses. A soft cry sounds through your gritted teeth; you gently grind your hips onto the pad of his finger to ride through the shockwaves. Joel leans up to kiss your shoulder, his lips warm and supple.
“Just as beautiful as I imagined,” whispered Joel. His tongue skirts along your skin to your neck, fully sitting beside you to bore his eyes into yours.
You glanced back at him with lust-blow pupils, steadying your breath as his hand slowed its tempo. Joel gave you a lazy smile, the lamplight catching the salt-and-pepper hairs of his scruff in a soft display of his rugged features.
“Can,” you started, “you be… inside me?”
Joel’s hands found your hips and gripped snugly. The look in his eyes was nothing short of affectionate. Even still, he shook his head.
“Not tonight darlin’,” he replies, “I want you to show me how you look using this-“ he points to the dildo on his opposite side, waiting. “Since you think a toy could be so much better than me-“
“That’s not it at all,” you protest, “I needed something, Joel.”
He holds up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, “You could’ve asked me, but ya didn’t, did ya?”
You gave him a scowl, “I didn’t think this would happen, Joel.”
Ever since you hit eighteen, he wanted you to practice calling him by his first name purely out of comfortability, and since you’d grown up, it seemed more fitting.
He doesn’t reply, but his smirk grows when he brings the dildo over to you, sitting between your thighs. It was embarrassing enough with how little of the toy you could handle this far, and to do it in front of Joel seemed doubly humiliating.
Joel gives your ass a small smack to lift you up. You rise, letting him set the toy between your thighs and beneath your throbbing entrance. He cleared his throat, daring your attention back to him.
“Go at your own pace, but get it all in, sweet girl.”
All thought had left you - your only reply being in an eager nod. You started off slowly, notching the toy in at your tight hole, and slowly bounced yourself along its length. Your legs shook with each movement as you filled yourself more and more, every gyration sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.
It took a few moments to ease yourself fully, now bouncing on the dildo’s length until it became glossy with your slick. Joel eyed you affectionately. Your face twisted in ways he couldn’t imagine, and your cunt wrapped around the toy in ways he could only dream of.
Joel patted your thigh as you bottomed out at the hilt of the toy. He pawed at your hips, kneading at the tender flesh of your ass, and pulled you into a grinding motion, setting the dildo ever deeper into your cunt. It struck a new spot deep inside of you, pushing against your cervix. A low moan fell from you as you moved your hips absentmindedly, solely following Joel’s command.
The tightness in your stomach only grew as his praises flowed through your head.
“Such an obedient lil’ thing.”
“That’s a dirty girl, gettin’ all needy like that. Wishin’ it was me in your sweet pussy, don’t you?”
“You have no idea how badly I want to fill you right now, baby doll.”
You mewled softly as another orgasm crashed through you, your hips sputtering as you ground onto the toy. Joel’s hands caressed you through your high, though he didn’t stop tugging your hips. He beamed lazily when you cried his name once again, shuddering around the toy nestled inside of you.
“Attagirl,” whispered Joel, “so fuckin’ beautiful..”
You shook your head at him like before, but he showed no signs of backing down from his stance. Joel peppered your thighs with kisses and he lifted you off the toy, listening to your whines as you were left feeling empty. His cock twitched in his jeans, eager to play.
But not yet. He needed to see this first.
“How was that, sweet girl?”
A beat of silence said every unspoken thing you’d come up with. It was good, but not mind-boggling. Not the ‘fucked til you’re dumb’ pleasure you’d expected from tonight.
Joel patted your ass, “That’s the thing. Toys… they feel nice. But-“ He plants a kiss to your cheek, then your lips, grazing over the swollen skin.
“I’m better.”
The next few minutes consisted of cleaning after yourself and settling back into your clothes. Joel fixed your hair neatly before looking you over.
“Cant stay long tonight, darlin’, gotta get back home.”
You sighed dramatically at him, to which he scoffed away the gesture. On his way out, he gave you a far more longing look - a loving, thoughtful gaze that told you one thing.
You were his. Completely and wholly. It was clear he saw you differently now, as you did him.
Joel fucking Miller.
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