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#if standing up for someone means picking a side in his eyes or getting into conflict he will not do so
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Can be read as a continuation to my previous work about Gale, but can also be read independently.
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Today had been a tiring day, especially for their de-facto leader, Gale thinks. The situation at the goblin village could have turned for the worse had you not smooth talked your way through.
And yet you’ve gone back to dueling the fire with your eyes again, he notes. However unlike last time, he chooses to stay put in his own corner of the camp.
Given his last attempt at light but stimulating conversation, he’s mostly sure that he will never do such a thing ever again. Lest he wants to feel the less than comfortable stares of everyone awake when he returns to his tent.
Alone and unaccompanied.
Doesn’t mean that he can’t observe you from here though. While he should be reading up on a rather interesting book he picked up from today’s skirmish, the pages haven’t been graced with his eyes quite nearly as much as your form.
Naturally, he doesn’t realize this until something, or rather someone, catches his attention.
Astarion.
Usually not one to leave his own comfortable area of the camp, it was surprising to see him choose to settle in at a bedroom nearer the fire.
To approach you in such a manner. Almost as if you were familiar with another.
“Which couldn’t be since you would have only met one another after the crash,” he reasons.
He makes a comment from his lax position on his bedroll. Opens the conversation with you the same way that he’s certain he did a few nights ago, and yet the response couldn’t be more different.
The action draws what looks to be an exasperated sigh from you, but Gale notices your eyes soften at the elf’s remark. You don’t turn to face him, but still respond while focusing on the camp’s light.
Astarion stands to be nearer to you, perhaps trying to convince you of something, as he slings an arm around your shoulder. Face, nearing yours. The thumb of his slung-over hand seemingly grazing the skin of your exposed collarbone, uncovered by the looser strings of your shirt.
Gale feels his jaw slacken as he watches this very scene unfold before him. The book, long forgotten as the strength in his arm wanes, almost dropping it. He feels his eyes bug out of his skull when he sees you place your hand on top the pale fellow’s in what he can only assume is an affectionate gesture.
He’ll admit, perhaps he wasn’t paying attention to you earlier in the days you reunited. With the way you were avoiding him, it seemed like you wanted him to forget you existed or pretend like you didn’t know each other.
But how could he?
How could he when you inspired him so?
How could he when your wit and creativity showed him more ways the weave could be practiced?
How could he when he knew that all your friends had always been more like Aatarion’s type, and that you’ve always seemed to avoid his?
He supposed he shouldn’t be be surprised then, if he claims to know you so well. It was inevitable that you would warm up to the elf so quickly. Alike in charm and nerve.
And if you still haven’t warmed up to the wizard in the years of study you shared, he doubts you ever will.
Ah, but where will all this conjecture get him? He’s still dealing with the loss of Mystra’s favor and it’s vicious consequences. What use would it be to watch like this?
He takes one last look at your joined hands before he sees you respond and heads in to his tent. Perhaps a bit of rest will help temper whatever wave of emotions it is that washes over him.
“Astarion.” You warn with your warmer hand atop his.
“Hm?”
You turn your head to look at him and you’re greeted by that self-aggrandizing smirk that always curls up on his face.
The sight makes you sigh. No answer to his earlier question will get you out of this.
Tricky bastard.
“Your fingers are cold.” He clicks his tongue at that, but removes himself from your form anyway. A catty, “you’re no fun” leaving his lips as he distances himself from you.
He smiles anyway and tilts his head to the side. Standing to rest all his weight on one leg, and waves you off with one hand.
“I’ll see you later, I’m sure.” You shakes your head at that and turn to leave.
“Good night Astarion.”
“Sweet dreams, dear mage.”
He’s convinced you enough to try.
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okminer07 · 3 days
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A Match Beyond Measure Pt 2
(Name may be subject to change)
“Y-you… You’re the only one outside?” 
“Far as I can tell, yeah.”  
“Outside the Grounds and Sounds cafe?” 
She waited with baited breath for his answer, that last damning piece of evidence, “Yeah, looks like it. Are you sure you’re alright?”  
No, no she was not alright. She was anything but alright! The person outside was Garret, the giant outside was Garret! This whole time she had been talking with a giant! The giant outside was waiting for her! 
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears as she sat there curled up on the floor. What was she supposed to do? Out of all the things that could have gone wrong! 
“Uh hey, you still there?” 
She jumped at the sound of his voice, this time knowing the owner was looming right outside the door. Did he know? Did he know she was human? He couldn’t have. He sure acted like he was expecting someone… someone more like him. 
What should she say? Did she really want to let him know? What would happen then? She shivered as hundreds of scenarios entered her mind all at once, all of which horrified her. But she had to say something! If she didn’t he’d remain standing out there and get more and more suspicious. 
“Garret” she muttered, “I’m a…. The cafe you're standing in front of, that’s the cafe I work at.” 
Silence on the other end.  
“Wait what?” Cecilia couldn’t think of anything else to say, she was… she was-
Suddenly, the ground jerked so violently it catapulted Cecilia from her seat with a yelp. She caught herself before she could smack her head on the floor, releasing a shaky breath as everything went still. Her phone had been knocked out of her hand and was now lying on the floor, cracked.  She grabbed it before rolling over and backpedaling back to her spot pressed up against the cabinets. After a few seconds of more silence, she slowly straightened her legs and pushed herself up, turning around as she did so.  
Her heart nearly stopped. Outside, practically taking up the entire glass wall, was a face. A face turned sideways trying to peer in with two blue eyes the size of dinner plates. A massive hand was holding something that looked like a phone the size of a car against the side of his face. Garret’s face.  
His eyes widened when they fell upon her. Cecilia watched his mouth fall open in shock, revealing massive teeth that she couldn’t help but imagine morphing into sharp fangs.  
Just as soon as she had stood, she fell back to the ground, trembling, “Wait!” the shout reverberated through the walls. She snapped her eyes shut, clasping her hands over her ears. Just go away, her fingers clawing into her head and grabbing bits of her curly red hair, “Wait come back!” 
She winced, squeezing her eyes even more shut. Just go away! She pleaded. 
“Cecilia?”  
Everything seemed to freeze once again. Her name rang in her ears. Garret’s voice rang in her ears, only not the thunderous one she’d heard moments ago, but the one she had gotten to know. Slowly, she let her hands slide off her face and into her lap, still shaking. 
That had reminded her that this… this was Garret. 
What difference does that make?! One side of her screamed, get out of here now! 
She glanced to the door leading to the back and the back exit. If she was quick about it, she could slip out and run for it. But…. she looked at her phone, laying on the floor next to her. She couldn’t just do that, giant or not, he at least deserved an explanation. 
But what if he got angry? She felt herself cringe at the thought of those huge features twisting into a visage of rage.  
She hit herself, shaking her head. Stop it! Stop thinking like that! If you are anything close to a decent human being you will say something! 
Her phone felt ten times as heavy as she picked it up and lifted it up to her ear. 
“G-Garret?” she managed to mumble. 
“Hey” his voice responded sheepishly, “Didn’t mean to scare you there, heh. This is just a little unexpected”  
Cecilia let out a mumble of agreement. 
“But uh hey, I could stop blocking the door and you can come on out and-” 
“No!” 
Cecilia slapped a hand over her mouth, looking down horrified.  
There was an audible pause on the other end, “Is something wrong?”
How is he being so cool about all of this?! 
“I uh….” she racked her brains for what to say, “It’s uh…” 
“It’s not what?” 
“It’s not your fault.” she blurted out. 
Garret fell silent. Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad. 
“What’s not my fault?” 
“That I’m… that I’m-” 
“I’m going to stop you right there” Cecilia went still, “I know this isn’t what you were expecting or what we had planned, but hey, I haven’t much experience being around humans but have always sort of wanted to”  
Can’t say I feel the same way. 
“There’s a restaurant a couple miles from here that’s got some of the best burgers I’ve ever had. If you want we could go and hit it up.” 
She cringed, clearly he had no idea what she had meant before, and now she felt like she had dug herself into a deeper hole. Her lips were dry as she tried to come up with the right words, “T-the thing is, I’m…. not really….” She knew what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. What if he got offended? That was the last thing she wanted to do, for more selfish reasons if she was being honest. 
“I don’t mean to be rude or anything, I just…. Your…. Your-” Just spit it out dammit! “Your kind make me feel uneasy”  
Uneasy seemed like the most harmless word to use, but it didn’t at all really describe how she felt at all. She didn’t really even want to think of the words to properly describe it in case it just made those feelings worse. 
“Uneasy?” Garret still sounded confused. Sheesh, he really hadn’t spent much time around humans. Uneasiness was said to be quite common in many folks when first interacting with the other kind, though they seemed to always get over it quite fast. Not Cecilia though, for some stupid ass reason that she didn’t know. 
“I-I haven;t much experience around…. your kind either.”  
“Well like I said, neither have I. It would be a fun first for both of us.” 
Fun?!   
She wasn’t sure what to say without the possibility of offending him. None of her words had really landed and he still seemed to have no idea what she was getting at. The hallway leading to the back and by extension, the backdoor was starting to look really appealing. 
If she was careful… if she was quiet…. Her bike was chained up to a pipe right out back. If she could make it out there without being seen, she’d be out of this mess. She’d be able to ride back to her apartment, explain herself to him over text instead of…. Instead of… right now and…. Right here. 
Pocketing her phone, which was still on the line, she unfolded her legs and began to crawl towards the back. A couple of cups and bottles of flavoring had fallen and shattered to the floor, she maneuvered past them so as not to get sliced in the knee and cry out. When she made it to the back hallway, she pressed herself against the wall. She stiffened when she felt her phone vibrate and the vague sound of Garret’s voice. Ignoring it, she continued to crawl the length of the hallway, the backdoor always in front of her, teasing her.   
After what felt like an eternity of slinking along the tiled floor, her nose was inches away from the door. She looked over her shoulder before standing up and fumbling with the door knob. The creaky old door seemed louder than ever as it hinges squealed. She cringed, pushing it all the way open and stepping out. Her bike was on the left, chipped blue paint looking more beautiful than ever before.  
She scrambled over to it, grabbing the bike lock and frantically clicked in the code. The lock snapped open and she didn’t hesitate to pull it away from the building and mount it. She began to pedal, her eyes fixated on the thin alley across the street that she had always used as a shortcut to her complex. 
Suddenly, she heard movement. The rustle of fabric and a low grunt right before a growing shadow appeared feet in front of her. She had but a millisecond to turn her bike harshly to the left before something bigger than a decent sized car crashed down in front of her, the impact throwing her off her bike and sending her skidding across the pavement. The ground rocked once more before everything stilled. 
Cecilia groaned, her elbows and calves burning from being dragged across the ground. 
“Shit!” she froze as that same deep voice rumbled from far above her. She didn’t want to look up, but her body at that moment seemed to be on autopilot as her neck strained to look upwards.  
Her eyes widened, a mountain of mass stood before her, reaching at least forty meters in height. Her mouth went completely dry when her eyes met with two familiar blue eyes, staring down at her.  
She quickly looked back down, only to be met with the sight of those massive shoes only about two feet away from her.  
“You alright?” Cecilia flinched at the voice, “That looked pretty rough.” 
“I….I…” her lips quivered. 
“Why’d you come out this door? I could have moved out of-'' he paused, Cecilia tentatively looked back up to see the eyes of the giant before her narrow. “You cold or somethin’? You’re uh…” he chuckled, “You’re shaking.”  
To her horror, the enormous body before her started to get closer, beading down and taking up more of her vision if that was even possible. Her arms shot out in front of her, instinctively shielding herself. The movement around her stopped. She looked up to see Garret straighten back up, his eyes wide before something seemed to click in his brain. 
“Is it me?” 
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sergeantwoods · 1 day
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post roba, before the 141
ghost sat. he just sat there. a shard of glass in hand, in his room that price had assigned him. he felt hollow. like someone had cut open his head and scooped out his brain. and his heart. was there. just there, serving no real purpose. it ached, beating dully.
the sound of the door opening startled ghost slightly into looking at whoever was entering. he swore he had locked the door - hadnt he learned his lesson by now? when he realized it was price, he slowly looked away and back at the glass in his hand.
price was silent for a moment before asking softly, "whats wrong?"
simon stayed quiet, then whispered hoarsely, "my hand hurts."
price snorted, gesturing to the piece of glass in his hand. "yeah, because you're holding a shard of glass."
"i know."
"so why dont you let it go?"
simons eyes strayed from the piece of glass to prices face, before turning to stare blankly in front of himself. "i dont know. ive had it for a long time."
price walked closer to ghost, yet still kept his distance. simon appreciated that. "why do you even have a shard of glass?" price mused.
simon hesitated. "...it used to something else before it broke," he paused, before adding quietly. "but now i dont know what to do, and im afraid of letting it go."
"the only way you'll feel better is if you let it go," price remarked softly. simon could feel the holes the man was staring into his head.
"i dont remember a time in my life where i didnt have it, and the pain of having it might be better than the pain of losing it," ghost responded, dipping his head to observe the glass. it had already cut into his hand, tiny drops of blood finding themselves leaving simons skin.
"if the shard of glass doesnt serve you and only causes you pain, its not worth holding onto, and the only way you can heal is if you let go." price said carefully, slowly coming to stand next to ghost.
"okay," ghost mumbled, dropping the shard. it clattered to the ground, the edges painted in red. the glass splintered at the sides.
"how do you feel?" price asked, raising a brow at the piece of glass on the floor before directing his attention back to ghost.
"weird," he grouched, then added, "and bad. and my hand is still bleeding."
price chuckled. "healing takes time. one day, you won't even remember you had a cut on your hand."
"what should i do with the glass?"
"leave it, its not your responsibility anymore."
simon paused, contemplating. "i know, but i feel bad about littering."
price smiled. "you're right, ill put it in the trash." he reached down to grab the glass, startling when simon interupted again.
"no, i'll do it." he said, as he picked the glass up again.
-
i hope u understood the hidden meaning to that
i also got this from something i saw but i wrote it in a ghost/price father/son relationship thing
the link for the original video where i found it is here !! (ignore that its a yt short, i get bored and scroll sometimes ,,, )
raaaaahjshsjdfs im going to go play dmz now !!!
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schrodingerscougar · 1 month
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Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.
Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.
For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.
The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.
He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.
“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”
That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”
You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.
“What got you thinking so hard?”
Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.
“Me?”
“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”
It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.
Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.
He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.
When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.
As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.
You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.
“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”
With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”
Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.
“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.
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strawhbrrries · 4 months
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Starin' Problem.
pairing: dbf!no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader
summary: a red dress and a glass of whiskey is all it took for Joel to lose every ounce of self control he once had.
warnings: porn no plot, female pronouns, age gap (both consenting adults), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, slight creep joel, daddy kink, breeding kink...,mean joel, dirty talk, praise!!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread
word count: 1.3k words
recommended listening: granite by sleep token
authors note: i'm pretty sure I had planned for this to take place at reader's parent's wedding but i never specified so it's just some fancy event they planned lmfao, enjoy <333
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“Quit starin’.” Your father whispered into Joel’s ear, following his eyes to you, his daughter, across the room. “Let's not have a problem tonight.”
“I ain’t.” Joel grunted, taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand as he continued to watch you. “We won’t have any problems.”  
He’d spent most of the night trying to decide if you’d worn any underwear under the dress, with a slit that ended right under your hip he was convinced you weren’t but then you’d turn a specific way and he swore he could make out a line. The low neckline left nothing to the imagination and only added to the torture you were putting Joel through at the hands of fashion, he never knew he could be so turned on by someone your age but here he was with a rock hard cock, staring like a creep.
“Whoever that guy with your dad is has been staring at you all night.” One of the girls you’d been standing with spoke, a hint of jealousy in her voice. 
You turned your head around, making eye contact with Joel, and looking him up and down. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him, and the dark red suit your father had picked out to match the same red of the dresses your mom had picked out wasn’t helping at all. He looked you up and down before making eye contact with you again, taking another sip of his whiskey, and twirling a finger around. 
“Joel? He’s probably on a secret mission to keep an eye on me.” You joked, acting like you had stepped on your dress as an excuse to spin around without anyone suspecting anything. 
“He can keep an eye on me.” A different girl responded, giggling as they continued to joke about him.
He could’ve orgasmed right then and there as you spun around, the two of you hadn’t spoken all night and yet here you were entertaining him. His glass of whiskey was almost empty, if he played his cards right maybe he’d be able to get you alone, away from the annoying girls you’d been around all night. 
You watched him glance at his glass before heading off to what you assumed was the kitchen, he hadn’t made any signal for you to follow but this was your moment. 
“What would my dear father think if he knew his best friend was eyeing up his daughter?” You whispered, coming up behind Joel and dragging your nails down his back. 
“Does his dear daughter care?” Joel whispered back, setting his glass down and turning around to face you. “Seemed like you quite enjoyed it.”
He trailed a finger over the neckline of your dress, hooking it under the fabric and exposing one of your breasts. A low groan escaped his throat, accompanied by him fixing his suit pants. His fingers found your nipple, rolling and tugging it slightly. 
“Seems to me you’re enjoying it a whole bunch.” He chuckled, using his other hand to tilt your chin up, leaning down so your lips were inches apart.
“Fuck, Joel-” 
He smashed his lips against yours, swallowing every whimper escaping your lips, pulling the other side of your dress down to expose both breasts. Your hands made quick work of unbuttoning his suit jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it on the floor, before moving to his dress shirt. 
“Naughty girl, lettin’ some old man touch you in a kitchen at your parent’s party.” He spoke against your lips, shoving your dress down to your hips and taking a step back to admire you. “God you’re fuckin’ pretty.” 
“Joel, please.” You whined, grabbing at the last few buttons left on his shirt desperately as if it was going to get them unbuttoned faster.
“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already beggin’. Fuckin’ whore.” He chuckled, helping you unbutton his shirt and tossing it to the side with his jacket. “Need some dick, huh?” 
You shook your head, shoving the rest of the dress over your hips and onto the floor, grabbing his head and smashing your lips back together. His fingers danced their way down your skin, memorizing every bump and curve in the chance that he wouldn’t get to do this again, making their way under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter behind him. 
He trailed a finger up and down your folds, gathering your wetness and bringing it to his mouth, groaning at the taste. The sensation of his finger slowly pushing in and out was so overwhelming, you were practically floating on cloud nine and there was nothing you’d change about it.
“Tell me how bad you want it.” Joel rasped, lips pressed up against your ear, removing the rest of his clothing. “Tell daddy how bad you need it.”
“Daddy, please…fuck- need it so bad.” Your words were barely audible, desperate and whiny.
The feeling of his cock pushing inside of you had you throwing your head back, hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any and all noise he’d pull out of you. He pulled back out slowly, watching your pussy grip his cock as he pushed back in. Forbidden sex had never felt so good, he’d find any and every reason to visit you after tonight if he could experience this again. His beard scratched against your neck as he bent over, pulling your body closer to him, sucking and biting at the skin he could reach. 
“God, I could make you a fuckin’ mom.” Joel groaned, leaning his head further into the crook of your neck. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, full of my babies.”
“Daddy-”
“That’s right, say my name, baby.” He switched the arm that was bearing your weight and brought the newly freed hand to your hair, tugging it back enough so he could see your face. 
His hips pistoned in and out, cock reaching places you didn’t even know it could, but if you told him that he’d make a joke about you not sleeping with a real man like him. He placed wet kisses down your neck and all the way down to your nipples, sucking on them in turns. 
“Joel, please, I’m so close..” You cried, eyes filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.
“That’s too damn bad, because that’s not my name.” He chuckled, evilly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks. “Try again, I know you can do it, baby.”
“Daddy, daddy please.” 
“Good girl.” 
He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts, coaxing your orgasm right out of you. You slumped into him as it hit you, body shaking as it made its way through you. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his own white, hot high. Your small whimpers as you came back to the world was enough to send Joel over the edge, painting your insides a nice milky white. His own body slumping into yours as he recovered from the pleasure. 
“Did such a good job, darlin’.” He praised, smoothing your hair down as you continued your way out of cloud nine. “Did so good for me.”
You gave him a weak smile, smoothing the hairs that were stuck to his sweaty forehead back to their spot. He sat you back down on the counter and filled his glass up with water before handing it to you, the aftertaste of whiskey was enough to perk you right up. 
Joel helped you back into your dress, fixing your hair to cover the hickeys that were soon to appear, sliding your underwear back up but making sure to push his cum back inside of you before sliding them all the way up.
“C’mon, we got speeches to make.”
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slttygeto · 9 months
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SLOWLY LOVING YOU — SUGURU GETO.
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જ⁀➴ synopsis: Before Yaga introduces you to the third years, Suguru is a little unsure of you joining them. And then he meets you, and suddenly his heart doesn’t know how to slow down.
જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, reader gets a few cuts and faints, swearing and a lot of fluff.
જ⁀➴ word count: 4,2k
જ⁀➴ note: thank you to the sweet @duhsies for commissioning me! I had so much fun writing it<3!!
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“Yaga says there’s a newcomer,” Satoru had a habit of speaking with a mouthful, which Suguru really hated. A hand is smacking the back of the white haired’s head who hisses at the contact before glaring at his best friend.
“Hey!” He protests, his sunglasses resting at the tip of his nose.
“Swallow your food.” Suguru presses, taking a sip from his drink. He had heard long ago from Yaga about this newcomer, and wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. It’s not that he wasn’t good with new people (he wasn’t), but he felt like it was a little odd to transfer someone and have them be with him, Shoko and Gojo right away. They had to have a good cursed technique, a great control of their cursed energy, otherwise they’d just get in the way of everything and—ouf, this was too negative.
Who was he to judge? Sure, a part of him was skeptical, but he was trying to awaken the other side that usually reassures him that everything will turn out just fine.
“I wonder if it’s guy or a girl,” Satoru speaks again, and this time (surprisingly) he swallows his food before opening his mouth. Suguru shrugs at his best friend, grabbing a fry from his tray of food.
“It won’t really change much, I just hope they’re good at what they do,”
“Oh Suguruuu,” Gojo whines at his friend’s negativity, pushing him but not too hard. “Don’t be such a kill joy, I’m pretty sure that they’re good. Otherwise, Yaga wouldn’t look so excited.”
“Why are you the one telling me to be nice?” The black haired male raises an eyebrow, carefully picking out a fry that didn’t have ketchup on it.
“You rubbed off on me,” Satoru wiggles his eyebrows to which Suguru rolls his eyes at.
“Don’t.” Suguru presses, but it’s too late to stop his friend’s funny joke.
“That’s a little fruity—“
“Finish your food.”
When they head back to the school grounds after having lunch, they’re pleasantly surprised when they find Yaga, Shoko and an unknown girl standing near one of the school buildings. From the looks of it, you weren’t that nervous. Sure, you were checking out your surroundings as the school was new, but nothing about your demeanor suggested that you were anxious. Not even a little.
Suguru raises his eyebrows at this, and although he tries not to stare too hard at you, Gojo is quick to notice it and nudges him with an elbow.
“Hey, think that’s the new girl?”
“I mean, it looks like it,” Suguru mumbles a response and stops walking when Yaga starts to approach them.
“You finally decided to show up,” Oh, an ass-whooping is on the way.
“The mission took us way too long,” it’s Satoru who tries his luck as his usual, and the grin on his face draws a similar one on Suguru’s lips.
“Yeah, but we managed to get it done with. That’s all what matters,” if it wasn’t for Satoru’s love to piss off their teacher, Suguru is sure that he wouldn’t bother. But it’s fun, and it gives the students something to laugh about.
You watch the scene unfold before you and you raise your eyebrows at how easy going the pair standing in front of you was. Did they not fear Yaga? You had been introduced to the man a couple of weeks ago before you were transferred to the school, and despite the comforting vibe the man had, you still felt like you owed him some sort of respect.
Something the two guys bickering with their teacher seemed to lack. Or maybe it was just an act.
Yaga gives the two guys a comical smack to the back of their heads and you hear Shoko snicker next to you. You fight back a smile of your own, until you feel Shoko pat your back, almost in reassurance.
“You can laugh, they won’t be offended.” You relax at this, and before you could even say anything in response, Yaga is clearing his throat to get your attention.
“You can introduce yourself,” oh, he’s talking to me. You’re suddenly aware of the three pairs of eyes fixated on you, and you fidget nervously.
“Hello, my name is (name) and I’m—“
“That’s boring!” The white haired male cuts you off, and your eye twitches. Well, that’s offensive. Before you could even glare at him, he’s approaching you while taking off his sunglasses and your heart stills at the sight. Those eyes felt like they were staring into your soul.
“Show us your technique, that’s a much more interesting way to introduce yourself,” your body relaxes at this, and you can see Yaga signaling you to go along with what your classmate was saying.
“Oh, okay then,”
Suguru’s eyes are cat-like as they fixate on you. You get in position to show off your technique and suddenly, everything goes quiet. He could feel the energy shift when you stepped away from them, and so he was anticipating a big show. Perhaps, you were a show-off like Gojo.
Suddenly, the air feels a little different—why is it wet? He touches his skin to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and before he could even process things, fog had engulfed him entirely. This was new.
You were nowhere to be seen, maybe that was your technique—a little weak, Suguru thought. But it felt like you read his mind because right in front of him was standing a carbon copy of himself. A clone.
“What the—“ The clone stands still as Suguru gets into a fighting position, ready to unleash a weak curse at it, but the clone is quick to do the same and releases a different curse—the clone knew about his technique?
Before things could escalate further, he heard a snap of fingers from behind him and his eyes widen when the fog and the clone both disappear at once. You were standing right behind him. Being so focused on the fact that what was standing in front of Suguru was a literal doppelganger, he failed to notice you sneak up behind him. He assumed that you snapping your fingers was to deactivate your technique, but it was also a realization that you made him so unaware of his surroundings—and that was the beauty of your technique.
Everyone looks amused by Suguru’s confused expression. He was staring you right in the eye, and your confidence and the relaxed expression painting your face would normally sned shivers down anyone’s spine. It was awkwardly silent for a few moments before Gojo decides to break the silence.
“That was rather impressive, wasn’t it?” Shoko agrees with her classmate, clapping almost ceremoniously. Yaga steps away from the two to approach you and Suguru who was still staring at you, this time with less resentfulness. Sure, he hated having someone sneak up behind him. And the fact that you had chosen him out of the three felt a little strange, but he tried not to overthink it.
Maybe it’s because I looked like a bitch.
He immediately brushes off the thought when you flash him an unapologetic smile, the confidence you gave off a few moments ago replaced with something he couldn’t quite decipher—were you getting shy?
His lips part almost in shock at the way your cheeks are slightly pink, and you take two steps back and away from him before apologizing out loud.
“Sorry, I just thought you looked a little bored.”
Oh, not anymore.
“That to you, is a Grade 1 sorcerer.” Yaga announces very proudly. Usually, Grade S sorcerers would be the one to be introduced like this—with so much pleasure and honor. But Yaga didn’t care about that. He saw potential in you and embraced it like you were his top student.
Geto couldn’t shake off the giddy feeling in his chest. He watched as Satoru came over to your side and ruffles your hair, promising that you were going to have a good time at school because he was there. And you played along, the playful expression you wore on your face not matching the blush on your cheeks—you were just easily flustered having this much attention on you.
“What do you say, Suguru?” He snaps out of his thoughts at the mention of his name, and he finds his best friend staring at him with those eyes. He caught him looking at you, didn’t he?
“Sorry, I zoned out.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he wasn’t going to say that you seemed so interesting that he found himself so lost in his thoughts. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like how you seemed so unaware of the fact that you were breaking down his walls one by one, and all of this happening in less than an hour of meeting you? Unbelievable.
“I said, we are all gonna get along so well, right?” Glancing at you, he notices how you seem to shift your attention back to him the moment his name is mentioned. You’re almost eager to find out what he has to say next, sparkly eyes and a tight lipped smile making you look so fucking adorable—oh fuck, no.
“Yeah, we will.”
He was officially and totally fucked.
--
It’s been a few months since you officially transferred to Jujutsu high, and things were going great. You felt like you fit in so perfectly, you were a bit nervous that you would be a burden since the trio seemed to have a dynamic of their own, being the one to ruin the dynamic—or worse, feel left out would just be the highlight of your school year. But they were so nice. Each in their own way.
While Gojo felt like a troublesome sibling with his many pranks and jokes, Shoko truly felt like a close friend. You could crack jokes with her, share food and even watch movies during the weekend. The friendship you shared with both seemed very genuine and you were so grateful for that.
And then there was Geto.
Suguru Geto, tall and handsome, with long dark luscious hair and cat-like eyes. A smile that seemed precious since it appeared way less than you would want. A voice that felt like he was purring in your ear and a personality that had your heart stuttering in your chest.
He had caught your eye the moment you saw him walk on the school grounds. You tried not to make your tiny crush on the man obvious right away, but it felt like you blew your cover when you chose him as your target when asked to show off your technique.
Things weren’t exactly bad between you and the tall male, but they weren’t that good either. There an awkwardness that always lingered when you were both left alone, your heart would beat so fast and so incessantly when you felt his eyes on you before he places a piece of his chocolate on your desk.
“Was gonna share it with Satoru, but he pissed me off today.” You’re almost shocked that he’s even addressing you when neither Shoko nor Satoru were in the classroom.
“Are you sure? He does like sweets,” you still grab the sweet treat and place it in your mouth, to which he chuckles at.
“Well, you ate it immediately. Seems like you don’t care.”
“Well, he did piss me off too today,” you’re grinning, playing with the wrap of the chocolate. Suguru raises his eyebrows at your remark and continues to tease you.
“Was it another joke about how bad his clone was? I mean he’s not entirely wrong—“
“Stooop,” you groan out, resting your head on your desk in defeat. You were too embarrassed about the recent incident, and no one seemed to want to let go of it.
Rather than being embarrassed that his clone was that ugly, Gojo’s sudden and quick realization that your clones had an immediate link to your photographic memory lit up a bulb at the top of his head. And so the teasing began.
How come Suguru’s was so accurate on day one!
Do you have something to share with the class?
It was horrible, and you remember how Yaga had to smack the white haired male in the back of his head to get him to stop. He caught onto your little crush on Suguru faster than you had anticipated, but you were glad that when asked what he was teasing you about, Satoru chose to save you the embarrassment and just say that his clone was so ugly, you needed more practice.
“I just need more practice,” you say, a little muffled from having your face in your arm. Suguru stares at you for a few moments from his seat, then he suddenly gets up and walks towards you. He crouches down in front of your desk and you quickly raise your head in question.
“Hm?”
“You don’t hate me, right?” He could’ve asked that question from his desk, he knows that. But it would’ve seemed a little cowardly cause he knows he would avoid looking you in the eyes. But eye contact was important when communicating things, and right now was one of the few moments where Suguru felt like he was going to pee his pants waiting for an answer.
“Hate you?”
“I’m aware that hate is a big word—it’s a strong feeling too, but I just need to know if you feel that way about me.” Suguru was supposed to feel stupid, maybe a little insane for asking you something like this. But he noticed how things always got quiet when it was just you two alone. It didn’t necessarily mean you hated him, but a part of him wanted to make sure you didn’t resent him for mysterious reasons.
“I don’t hate you,” you pause your words, and Suguru watches as your face slightly reddens as you avoid his eyes. “Uh, just nervous.”
Now, why did I say that? It’s one thing to know that he makes you feel this way, but it’s another when you fully admit it to him and watch as he raises both of his eyebrows, almost in shock.
“Nervous?” At first, he’s scared that the word has a bitter taste to it—but it slowly dissipates when he sees the blush on your face darken because why did he have to say it like that.
It sounded like he was saying it for the first time, carefully tasting each letter and syllable. You felt nervous around Suguru.
“You are kind of intimidating,” the small smile painting your lips eases Suguru’s nerves despite having another word describe him. But he’s heard this one before. In fact, he likes it. He likes the way it makes him feel, the ego boost it gives him when he sees people quiver in his presence.
But he didn’t want to have this kind of effect on you. You didn’t need to fear him or avoid his eyes for him to know that he was a powerful sorcerer—he wanted you to feel safe with him. He wanted to rid you of any problem weighing you down, have that smile on your lips for a long time. Whatever Suguru felt for you, he was coming to terms with it and accepting it.
Slowly that is.
“If I’m intimidating, then is Yaga like a monster to you?” Suguru teases you back, and he stands up from his crouching position. He stares down at you with a grin, his sharp eyes making eye contact with your own bright ones. A contrast like this looked so endearing.
“Yes.” You don’t hesitate as you reply, and Geto immediately bursts into laughter at this.
“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate.” Wow, I made him laugh.
“But he is scary! I mean, he’s very nice… but I don’t think I’d wanna piss him off like Gojo does,” you mumble the last part, but Suguru hears you loud and clear.
“Satoru pisses off everyone, so you’re safe.”
Having a conversation like this with Geto felt nice. It wasn’t that often that you two chatted or even had the time to sit down and give each other normal classmate updates. So to be able to talk to him like this, make him laugh until his stomach hurts before walking to your dorms felt new. But you weren’t complaining.  
--
Over the last few months, you’ve gone on a couple of missions with both Suguru and Satoru. They were all successful, and you always got done with them in half of the time.
But today was different. You were going on a mission with Suguru.
Yaga mentioned how you both seemed to work really well together, and while Suguru might’ve been stronger than you, you had so much potential that couldn’t get wasted. Suguru seemed like the perfect fit for a partner and a sort of mentor.
The mission was going to take place in another city, which is why you find yourself on the train with the tall male who was trying to get some sleep.
Sitting across from each other, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the guy. He looked too good from this angle, you could feel your body tingling in embarrassment.
The guy’s just trying to sleep
Over the last few months, no matter how hard you tried to brush your feelings for Suguru, they resurfaced not only a day later when he did something that would make your heart stutter in your chest. You remember him making you food when you were sick, giving you his scarf when you got too cold, suggesting to style your hair for you—how could you not fall for him?
But you were terrified of rejection. You were scared that those feelings could potentially ruin the friendship between you two, and God knows how horrible that would make you feel.
“We’re there,” you were so lost in your thought, that you didn’t feel the train stop. Only Suguru’s hand on your shoulder was able to snap you out of it.
“Oh sorry,” you stand up and make your way out of the train with Suguru following close behind.
“Did you manage to get some sleep?” He asks from behind you, and you slow down your pace to match his footsteps before shaking your head.
“Not really, I wasn’t that tired.”
“Oh but you will be after the mission, that’s always how it is.” He was referring to the many times you and Gojo would end up falling asleep on each other on the way back home, and he would secretly take pictures of the white haired male drooling on your hair to show it to you when you both wake up.
“Thank god he’s not here to drool on my hair,” you say with a hint of annoyance, but it’s harmless.
“Oh, you never know,” the playfulness to his voice makes you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face gives away that you were anything but annoyed.
You arrive to said location after ten minutes of walking. And at first sight, it seemed like any normal abandoned building; a little creepy, no color painting its exterior and most importantly lifeless. But the smell—god, the gut wrenching smell that came from it made you cringe.
“God, it smells horrible.”
“Then we’re at the right place.” Suguru is the first one to walk in, and you follow close after. You take careful steps, eyes darting around the area to scan it for any clues.
“I have a horrible feeling about this,” you mumble to yourself. You knew you were sent to this place to find the source of its gloominess, but the farther you walked down the hallway, the tighter your stomach got.
“It was an orphanage.” Your heart sinks at the revelation, watching the old toys scattered on the floor, filled with dirt and dust. You could only imagine what happened to the kids.
The room is silent for a few moments before both of you and Suguru stand still. Almost on guard.
“Do you feel it?”
“Yeah, I do.” Whatever took over this place was huge. It didn’t necessarily feel like a strong or dangerous curse, but the way it was staring at you from down the hall had you standing in a fighting position.
Before you could even process the fact that you were dealing with that big curse, it charges at you—and fast.
It’s too fast for its size!
Mist engulfs the creature almost immediately, it would only serve as a distraction for a little bit before it would rage even more and decide to charge at you.
“Go hide, I’ll take care of it.” You watch as Suguru calls in two of his powerful curses, both enough to do the job. But you don’t want that.
You don’t want him to do the job on his own, or worse hide while he does everything. It wasn’t why you became a sorcerer, why you chose to even join the school. And so you stood still, grabbing one of the daggers attached to your thigh. You ignore Suguru’s cries telling you to step away from the huge curse.
“You’re gonna get killed if you don’t move!”
“Shut up!” The mist slowly morphs into something else—something Suguru has never seen you done before. It shapes itself into a beautiful scenery, one where flowers are blooming and the sun is shining and—he was hallucinating.
And so was the curse. The technique might’ve not been the most powerful, but it still managed to blind the curse for a few moments. You fill your sharp dagger with cursed energy before slicing it open in one swift motion. It’s messy and sloppy, and blood covers your clothes and the floor like a paint. You stand still and stare in awe at what you’ve just done.
I killed a huge curse on my own!
What you fail to see is the multiple cuts on your body, and how all color leaves your face as exhaustion washes over you. Shit, you were passing out.
The last thing you remember hearing is Suguru calling your name before everything goes silent.
--
Suguru is a mess. That was the only word that could accurately describe the state of the poor guy as he paced back and forth in front of your dorm room. No matter how much Gojo tried to convince him that you were okay, he refused to budge.
He was mad at you. You were so reckless back there, refused to listen to him when he asked you to move—he was filled with all kinds of emotions.
And so when Yaga finally gives him the green light to visit you, the first thing he does is scold you.
You’re sitting up in your bed with bandages wrapped around your body, and you look so tired. But despite all of that, you still manage to flash him a warm smile when he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him.
“Yaga told me I was passed out for two days, I hope I didn’t worry you—“
“What you did was reckless.” Suguru cuts you off, voice sharp and cold that you flinch. Your eyes stare at your lap, avoiding his because he was right. You were reckless, refused to listen to him and powered up your technique faster than your body could handle.
“I know,” you don’t apologize. A part of you wants to, but you were still going to stand your ground if he tried to guilt trip you about the situation.
“And I was very mad,”
“I know.”
It’s silent for a few moments, and Suguru takes in how despite the tears blurring your vision, you refuse to give in and apologize about anything.
“But that’s only because you scared me to death,” he hears you sniffle, and he sees you blink away the tears before staring at him in shock. Suguru takes a few steps towards you, and for a moment you see the hesitation in his action. He quickly brushes it off as he gently rests his hand on your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.
“You have no idea how terrifying that was.” Your heart starts racing at his words, and his touch left a tingling feeling behind when he pulled away to pat your head.
“I don’t want you to do that again, but I gotta admit,” he ruffles your hair, the scowl on his face morphing into a soft expression.
“That was really cool,” your smile is on your lips almost immediately at his words, and you take your hand and wrap it around his wrist. You pull his hand down and place it again on your face, a bold move that has the both of you slightly blushing.
“You think I’m cool?” your voice sounds sweet when you ask the question, and Suguru thinks he’s never heard you sound like this before but he nods anyway.
“The coolest.”
Neither of you move or say a thing after this, but the prolonged eye contact had the tall male leaning down a bit hesitantly at first, making sure you were okay with it. So when you pull him closer and place your lips on top of his, Suguru is convinced that it was the right thing to do.
The kiss is short and sweet. You pull away after a few seconds and the blush on your cheeks spreads across your entire face when he leans in to give you another kiss. Then another and another.
“Sugu—“
“Shhh, you look cute when you’re flustered.”
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2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
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emmyrosee · 1 year
Text
Bakugou is, for all intents and purposes, a massive baby.
God forbid you leave him for ten minutes before he starts wandering around the house looking for you. Mercy on you if you go out to the grocery store and don’t take him. And how dare you even consider get up to get a snack when he's in the bathroom, letting your shared spot get cold.
These things, he can not let go easily.
Naturally, this slips your mind every once in a while because a peaceful life with Bakugou Katsuki doesn't exist. When you forget, he makes it his mission to force you to remember his clingy ass.
Tonight, it would appear to be no different.
It's 02:30 when you snap back to reality, bleary eyes blinking to get your bearings back.
The lamp on the side table blinds you momentarily, there's music coming from the tv- credits, you deduce, from the show Denki had raved to you both about. When you angle your head up, you're met with a firm jawline that lets out a loud snore from the slight disturbance.
Katsuki never was good at staying awake during these things.
Smiling up at him, you're quick to place a tender little kiss on his chin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitches slightly. Gently, you slip out of his arms and cover him with the blanket, using the parted lips releasing the smallest little snores to ensure his slumber. He smacks his lips and turns slightly on his side, as if chasing the warmth you'd taken away, and you click the tv off to keep him in the dark. You shuffle your way into your bedroom to get your own rest; you shiver once you slip under the covers, the fabric cold from the lack of use and lack of Katsuki's body heat.
The minute you do warm up, however, you're out like a light, and you remain so for a few hours.
But then, there's someone at the end of your bed. You feel them, and it wakes you just barely. You shift the blankets higher on your shoulder for protection from whatever your subconsious picks up, and just when you feel normal, something speaks.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
The raspy voice coming from the foot of your bed is more than enough to snap you from your sleep, but it isn’t until you see the massive, bulky frame that your heart sinks and you scream, you scream as loud as you can, immediately scrambling to the corner of your bed.
“Stop screaming, it’s me.”
Your shaking hands immediately shoot to the lamp next to your bed and upon flicking it on, you’re greeted by a sleepy Katsuki, blanket around his shoulders and sleepy scowl on his face, as if you’re the one who just inconvenienced him.
“You freak! What are you doing!” You snap, quickly rubbing your eyes to knock the sleep from them to properly scold. He merely shrugs and smacks his tired lips, indifferent to the previous heart attack he’d given you.
“Left me alone on the couch,” he says, dropping the blanket onto the floor before crawling into bed next to you, casually. “We were snuggling. You abandoned me.”
“You-! I was-! Why-!”
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he says, burying his face into his pillow and making a grabby hand for you, “c’mere, wanna spoon.”
Your heart, still pounding in your chest, finally lets breaths of air in, your hands trembling as you flick back off the light. You’re still mad, now shaking with fury, and as you roll to have your back facing him, you try to take deep breaths to calm down and not smother the man you somehow chose to love with a pillow.
“Hey,” he grumbles, tugging your sleep shirt. “Come here.”
“I can’t fucking stand you, Katsuki. I don’t even want to be in the same bed as you right now, you scared the fucking shit out of me.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Jus’ wanted to be close to you.”
“And you thought threATENING ME AT THE END OF OUR BED WAS A GOOD WAY TO DO THAT?”
He goes silent, and you almost think he’s given up, and just as you blink your stinging eyes, he suddenly rolls on top of you, knocking the wind out of you at his heaviness.
“Katsuki!” You scold, but it’s shrouded in laughter, an absolute contrast of how you just were talking all of ten seconds ago.
“Now you can’t leave,” he says, cockily. “You wake me again and I will kill you.”
“You woke me up just now! You could’ve easily come to bed like any sane person!”
“….”
“Katsuki!”
“Cant hear you, I’m asleep.”
“KATSUKI!”
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gamermattsgf · 3 months
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Pulling on pigtails // beard Matt
Warnings: smut tehee / beard kink (is this even a thing?? lol) / cunnilingus / ‘good girl’ + ‘little girl’ / thigh kink / hair pulling / soft dom x sub fem reader / seated scissors / praise kink / spit kink / cream pie / hair pulling if you squint
Summary: you and Matt didn’t like each other at all when you were younger. In fact, you hated each other. Or so you thought. Y’know that one saying? That if a boy pulls on a girl’s pigtails it means he secretly likes her? Well… in Matt’s case that was certainly true, it just took him a little bit of growing up to realise.
Author’s notes: childhood enemies to lovers oooo, new trope time. This was a spur of the moment idea that literally popped up into my head during one of my classes. Reminder to pretend the reader is on the pill PLS. And just a quick warning that this one is going to be switching from in between diff time periods if anyone gets confused. Also beard Matt? R u kidding?? *orgasms*.
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“Sometime ‘round eighth grade, remember our bodies were changing, you looked at me different…” - Ant Pile, Dominic Fike
•First grade•
You’re playing in the sandpit, just minding your own business by piling hoards of grit into the little bucket you have resting at your side. You intend to make a sandcastle, one of the best sandcastles you’ve ever made.
You stick your tongue out in concentration, your summer dress fit for the sunshine as it adorns your little body. Your sunhat is nestled on top of your head to shield you from the harsh rays that beam down from the sky whilst you busy away with playing by yourself. Packing in the sand tightly and then turning it with expert precision, your small chubby arms lift the mould carefully before you smile widely at the vision of the perfect sculpture placed before you. Well, as perfect as a sculpture of something can be to a 6 year old…
You have your back turned to your surroundings as you marvel at your creation. A mistake. Because, after you place the bucket back to the floor, someone else’s hand grabs a firm hold of one of your pigtails, yanking it backwards. You squeak as you fall onto your behind, covering the dress printed with sweet little strawberries in a myriad of sand before you twist your head at the sound of a childishly mean laugh.
‘Ouch? What was that for?’ Your voice wobbles, your glassy eyes looking at a young Matt who stands and crosses his arms in gleeful cruelty behind you, his dungarees still a little big for him and the slivers of a Spider-Man t-shirt peaking out from under the covers of his denim. He ignores you as he boyishly smirks, his dark blond hair straight and his mouth opening to bully you even further.
‘Ha! You loser. What ya doin’ building sandcastles?’ He jeers as he steps into the sandpit, his new pair of unlaced converse already scuffed up because of the amount of games of tag he’s played with his friends this morning. Suddenly, and to your utter dismay, he doesn’t give you enough time to retort back your upset before he is raising one of his legs and kicking it outwards. It barrels straight into your perfect sandcastle.
‘Building sandcastles is for babies. Babies like you!’ He ridicules as he stomps his foot into the sandcastle that you had just poured your entire heart and soul into creating not even moments ago.
Your fragile eyes well up with tears that drip from your waterline after Matt finishes crushing your craft. ‘That wasn’t very nice…’ you peep with an unmistakable frown on your face and your voice already raggedy with sobs. Matt’s beady blue eyes look at you once more, before he screws his face up and observes the way you cry, still in the position from when he had first snuck up to you and pulled on your hair teasingly.
‘Aww what’s wrong… you gonna cry?’ He feigns a pout as your nose begins to run.
Your little self feels so embarrassed that you’re crying in front of a boy, no less crying in front of Matt. He’s so mean to you. He picks on you all the time. You get no peace from him, you just wish he’d leave you alone, you liked being alone.
Pulling the stuffed animal you take everywhere you go from the floor, you hug it delicately into your chest as Matt jeers a chanting ‘Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby!’ Continuously whilst leaping around and pointing at you. You look to the ground shamefully, before you can’t take much more of his abuse. You don’t want to attract any more attention, not even from the parents that all flock together just yards away, huddled around the neighbourhood barbecue. And you certainly don’t want Matt causing you even more grief by calling you a snitch.
So instead, a simple whine is peeped from your throat as Matt steps back out of the sandbox, but not before playing with you once again by knocking off the little flowery bucket hat that had been fixed onto your head. You swipe it back up and dust it off angrily as he giggles and skitters off to go and play another game of hide and go seek with all of the other kids on the neighbourhood block. He turns back around once more to rudely stick his tongue out at you before leaving you all by yourself, now to wallow in your own sadness as you slump next to the destroyed sandcastle.
You just can’t help yourself as your nerve snaps, and as Matt runs away in his baggy dungarees, you squeal a high pitched and defiant ‘Maaaattt!!!’ To emphasises your anger, before huffing and petulantly crossing your arms, your head still kind of emanating a dull ache from where he had pulled your hair earlier.
Like you said, you just wished that annoying boy would leave you alone.
•Now•
‘Matt…’ you moan as he drops your thighs from the fleshy grip of his hands. You fall to your bed.
Within the soft lighting, his beard looks even darker and more prominent as he gazes at you with hungry eyes. Your heart beats down at your clit at wanting his tongue on you as soon as possible.
You and Matt are slightly older now.
At the roaring age of 20, you had bumped into him in your local grocery store after not seeing him for years. You see, you and him had gone to different high schools when you were younger, and sure, you had seen him around your neighbourhood a couple of times before, but it had never been enough to form a proper conversation with him.
Both of you had clearly been shocked at how much your appearances had changed as adults. You found it quite funny really, that the boy from your old neighbourhood block who used to crumple up balls of paper and chuck them at your head childishly, now had himself a beard.
Matt had been too stunned to speak.
Now being the mature young man that he was, he really didn’t expect to see an age old crush of his standing before him and looking just as pretty, if not prettier than she had when in her youth.
In the grocery store, he remembered smiling fondly at you as you both stood in the bread section, before reaching out one of his hands to jokingly tug on one of the pigtails. ‘Still wear around your pigtails huh?’ He had mumbled, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you as you looked at each other curiously. You blushed, embarrassed that the day you had decided to plait your hair into pigtails was the day that you would bump into what you considered to be your childhood bully. Typical.
Although, Matt saw you as something completely different at the time - unbeknownst to you.
You had shrugged and smiled sheepishly, replying with a ‘you’ve got a beard now…’ as you pointed towards the dark hair holding up his cheekbones sharply. Matt had softly chuckled and gently dropped his eyes to check you out. ‘Yeah I guess I do’.
As you chatted a little more, both of you decided to stick with each other for the rest of the duration of your grocery trips to catch up. Matt had even walked you out of the store and into the small parking lot. After he had put his groceries away into his car, shutting the trunk and locking it back up again, he felt the need to talk to you further and so shyly asked you out to dinner- which obviously you agreed to.
It was nice to see how much Matt had changed and really grown up, it was refreshing almost. However, that dinner date didn’t end at all like how you expected it would… because to end the evening, Matt had spent the entire night apologetically fucking his cock up into you on your couch, both of your faces sweaty and blushed, soaking in the obvious attraction you had felt towards one another. His hands had tightly intertwined with yours as he pinned them above your head and his mouth had been so close to yours the whole entire time. You remember him releasing whimpering pants against your mouth in between sloppy kisses whilst he mumbled ‘m’sorry… m’so sorry for how I treated you when we were kids…’.
But after you were finished, the endeavour didn’t end there, you didn’t cut off all contact with each other and go back to never speaking again. No. Instead, Matt had boldly asked for your updated number, since both of you now had phones, a luxury that 6 year old you two could have only dreamt of. And he texted you, again and again, and he also came over to fuck you… again and again. He was certainly a lot more straightforward with it now, that’s for sure.
Matt just couldn’t get enough of you, he was fucking obsessed with you, and he took full advantage over the fact that his 20 year old self now had the confidence to pursue you, the confidence that 8th grade Matt lacked.
And so that was that.
Now you are both here, Matt making a routine visit around to your apartment with hungry eyes and a hungry appetite.
The older boy kneels onto your bed, the mattress groaning and squeaking underneath his weight which gets you to shift in anticipated desire as he crawls right over to your awaiting body.
Slipping in between your legs, your hands splay behind you and keep you steady as his lips feather onto yours again, his tongue making easy work of snaking into your mouth and licking against your own. He kneels in between your spread legs, smoothing his hands down your rib cage and sliding them to your hips, before moaning ‘lie down angel’ into your lips, gently helping you by digging his thumbs into your tender flesh.
You fall back, your hair fanning out around you, but your head not quite reaching a pillow, so Matt smacks his lips, leaning over you so he can snatch one and slide it under your head for your comfort.
‘That better for my baby?’ He mumbles with his hands coming to rest under your arms, dangerously close to your swelled tits that had hardened upon his presence. You nod and he smirks, leaning his head down as he simultaneously moves his thumbs onto the pebbles of your nipples, yourself whimpering whilst he rubs them and kisses down into your mouth again.
Matt spent an awful lot of time during your horny fucks trying to make up for his past actions and mean comments by showering you with compliments and babying you as much as possible and it worked to flatter you into wetness every single fucking time.
‘Aren’t you just so pretty…’ he absentmindedly praises against your lips, now slipping the rest of his hands onto your tits to gently squeeze them, resulting in your rosy blush turning to an aroused red.
You swallow, bashful and nervous as he gets you to lean up so that he can slip your thin cotton top from off of your torso.
Throwing it to the floor, he sits back on his haunches to admire your bare tits, dewy and flushed whilst you look away in embarrassment.
‘Stop staring…’ you mumble shyly, but he only frowns, reaching his hand forward to grip your chin and turn it back to his face. ‘But why? They’re mine are they not? You’re my little girl… not anyone else’s… beautiful things should be looked at’ he starts, and once again, you feel the gush and drip of your arousal seeping through your underwear.
His voice dims to a whisper… ‘and beautiful things should be touched… shouldn’t they angel?’ He asks a rhetorical question before his hands find your tits again.
You falter, moaning a little when his mouth comes next, fully attaching itself to your right one so that his tongue can roll over your sensitivity, he hums and your back arches when you grip onto his floppy hair, his palms now caressing your waist. ‘Fuck…’ you quietly breathe into the air, nearly having to bite your lip and suppress a groan when Matt cheekily mumbles ‘is my little girl trying to use big girl words now?’ into you tits.
His tongue drips saliva all over them, and when he pulls away the freshly coated skin shines within the light, before he goes to suck on your left one.
Matt likes to spend extra time on every inch of your body, every inch of your skin, before he really gets what he wants, which is a taste of the delicate cherry nestled in between your honeyed thighs.
Leaning his chin on your breastbone, he watches the way you have your head thrown back in ecstasy like a lion, before he leans back up to roll both his sweater and his shirt up and over his head, soon discarding his own clothes. Then, he slips his thumbs into your pyjama shorts, taking them off and almost drooling at the sight of your baby pink panties, soft with a little bow at the stitch of them.
Some things never change. Your incessant love for the colour pink ever since you‘ve been a little kid being one of them.
This makes Matt’s cock throb, and he drips pre-come into his boxers at the sight of his little girl with her tits out, all hot and bothered just for him as he leers over her.
Suddenly, you pipe up in a gentle voice, being careful with your inquire which makes Matt’s heart melt and his cock even harder.
‘Can… can I have your special kisses now, please?’
Matt nods his head, stroking his hands down the backs of your thighs as he dreamily muses ‘of course you can angel… such a good girl for asking so nicely, aren’t you?’.
His praise naturally rolls off of his tongue like melted chocolate, and his hands make you ache. Finally, he leans down, before nudging his nose against your throbbing nerve, mumbling a starved ‘these panties are so pretty little girl… I think I’m going to keep them so that I can wrap them around my cock whilst I think of you when I touch myself’.
With that being said, you let out a strangled breath, your back yet again arching and your toes curling as his thumbs slip into the waistband of them to pull them off.
After they roll off, Matt shoves them into his back jean pocket, wasting no time in diving back down and spreading your thighs open for him whilst he caresses them. He squeezes them when you hiss at the feeling of his tongue licking into you, his head nestled right in between your thighs so that he can look up at your face over-protectively.
Matt’s facial hair is long enough for you to feel his bearded face harshly graze along each side of your thigh whilst his jaw works mercilessly. The rough hairs rub against your core when his nose nudges against your folds to get better access and you arch your back into the air at the sensation of it.
‘Matt- that feels so good… please-’ you beg, not being able to help yourself as you grab his hair and keep him there, squeezing your thighs around his head so that you can guiltily feel his facial hair better as he licks into you.
‘Yeah? Am I treating my little girl well hm? Am I taking care of her like I said I would?’ He teases, bringing his face up to look right into your eyes from between your legs, obviously happy with the noises he has managed to force out of you thus far.
You nod your head, humming aggressively before you buck your hips up, wanting him to continue for a little while longer… and so he does, except this time, something changes within the swirling motions of his tongue.
Instead of his usual strokes and licks, he slows his wet muscle down, making you realise within the suggestive motions that he is spelling out an ‘M’ on your clit. After the ‘M’ he slowly kisses it once, before spelling out an ‘A’. Your stomach drops and churns with desire at the possessive yet erotic nature of the action.
Soon after a continuation of kisses, two ‘T’s are spelt out, and finally an ‘S’…
Matt’s…
Your clit belongs to Matt, and he makes that very clear with the flick of his tongue and the look he gives you as he gazes up at you whilst spitting on it to get it wetter with his own saliva.
‘You’re fucking mine’ he throatily speaks with a deep hoarseness to his voice, and your stomach rises and falls with laboured breaths.
‘Yes… yes I’m all yours!’ You whine into the air, looking down at Matt just as lustfully as he looks up at you, your past hatred of each other all washing away as you find comfort within the tangle of your limbs.
Then Matt hums. ‘You’ve been such a good girl for me, letting me have you like that…’ he strokes your thighs yet again in adoration, resting his bearded chin on your pubic bone whilst lustily flitting his eyes up to you.
You smile at how similar yet different he looks to you now, both of you enthralled completely with each other. Past pains and experiences are wiped clean from the new slate you selected for your lives as soon as you had bumped into each other that one time in the grocery store.
•Fourth grade•
You’re on a field trip with your fourth grade class to your local aquarium.
You mind your own business, sticking out like a sore thumb as you trail behind everyone else, walking at the back by yourself. But you don’t feel lonely, you feel content at finally having peace. As the rest of your class chatters in groups happily, squealing and marvelling at all of the colourful fish, you prefer to admire them in quiet silence, walking right up to the glass and staring at their delicate fins before each time, seeing that the rest of the class has moved on and running to catch up with them.
You had just exited the underwater tunnel through the shark tank, looking at the floor to see their sleek grey bodies gliding underneath you before entering the jellyfish room. There are tanks upon tanks of different colourful jellies, some poisonous and some harmless, but all of them equally as beautiful with their trailing tendrils of stingers. You gasp quietly, your eyes sparkling as you run up to a massive tank full of a glowing purple and green species that float and dance about in the deep blue water aimlessly.
You press your hands up to the glass in childlike wonder, your nose almost touching the thick material whilst you scan over them and try to count how many are in the tank.
Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes watch your back, he too, by himself as his group of friends had left him to go and look at a tank full of long orange jellyfish. He hides behind a small tank in the centre of the room, shyly peaking around the corner at you and trying to think of a way he can poke at you.
He bites his nails and hums, wanting an excuse to walk up and tease you since he hasn’t already done so today. Ultimately, he decides to creep up behind you, smirking quickly at the creative idea that shoots through his mind whilst looking at your dad’s old baseball cap sitting on your head.
His quiet walk soon turns into a quick bursting sprint, allowing him to race up to you and pluck your hat from off of your head before you have the time to register who it even is. You yelp and spin around in fear, your hand slapped on top of your now bare head as you look at a proud Matt in horror and fear. Your heart rate quickens. You were so scared of him.
‘HEY! Give me that back!!’ You bravely demand, your attention now distracted from the jellyfish and fixating upon the wicked boy who smirks and holds it up above his head. You go to reach for it, but realise in dismay that you aren’t tall enough. Matt had annoyingly had a boyish growth spurt over the winter break and was now a couple of inches taller than you.
You feel sick in worry as your heart rattles against your ribcage.
‘Ha! Nice try’ he cackles, extending his hand up even further when you wobble onto your tiptoes to try and reach for it. To steady your balance, you have to grapple your hand onto one of Matt’s shoulders to stretch upwards and he secretly blushes, not too sure as to why your touches seems to give him conflicted feelings of affection. You whine when he only leans up onto his tiptoes too, again, pushing your hat up further from your reach.
‘Matt this isn’t funny’ you struggle, smacking your lips and extending out your body as far as you can, before he starts to wave about his arm to dodge your clawed hand. He only giggles deviously in return.
Once, just once, you’d wish for him to not pester you when you’re minding your own business, you were enjoying your little day trip out, and this just ruined it all.
‘Yes it is’ he retorts back. But before he can take his jest any further, your fourth grade teacher Mrs Banks notices your little ruckus and decides to intervene, much to your immediate relief.
‘Matthew Sturniolo!’ She calls and Matt suddenly goes rigid, the hairs on the back of his neck raising as he turns to look at her sheepishly whilst her short high heels clack towards you two. You relax, knowing that Matt is probably most likely going to be told off. And you’re right when she berates him and forces him to hand you back your hat and apologise.
For the rest of the school trip you stay glued to Mrs Bank’s side, fearful that trailing at the back will only make you more of a target for Matt’s vicious onslaught of teasing once again. But Matt stays put with the rest of his friends, only giving you periodic glances and death stares after being chastised by your teacher.
You went home that day feeling dejected and Matt went home feeling confused and frustrated. Because why is it, that he enjoyed teasing you so much. So much so to the extent where he didn’t think he could go a day without it?
•Now•
‘Do you think you’re ready for my cock now angel…?’ He questions, before answering the question himself when he leans upwards to unbuckle his belt, the metal jingling as he threads it through his belt loopholes and onto the floor.
Then his pants come next, leaving him almost as exposed as you, before he bends back down and digs his hands underneath your body, scooping you up effortlessly and cushioning you into his lap. His hands freely trail, groping and squeezing your thighs so hard that when he removes them, they leave little red marks and crescent moon nail imprints into your flesh.
You kiss frantically once again, desperate to engulf your scents over each other’s skin whilst you place your thumbs on either sides of his cheeks. His tongue is hot and sticky, your connection so messy that sometimes you accidentally get spit over the skin around your mouths. As you stroke your fingers over his jaw and cheekbones, you feel his bristly facial hair and clench your soaked thighs at its roughness, remembering the way it sharply rubbed against the insides of your spread legs just moments ago.
‘Please- please can I have your thigh…?’ You politely ask into his lips, your beg coming out breathless and whimpered. Matt sighs, ‘but baby… I wanna have your gut…’. You pull away and pout in sadness, and Matt’s heart sinks at the look on your face, again, the guilt of his past coming to haunt him. Just then, he thinks of an idea.
‘Why don’t we compromise then…’ your face lights up and you nod.
‘What do you want me to do…?’ You trail off and clench again when Matt pinches one of your thighs. Matt smirks, and then crunches his stomach so that he can lower his back onto your mattress, yourself still sitting on his lap. ‘Take these off angel…’ he mumbles, referring to his boxers that conceal his dripping cock. You obey him without question, the angel comment driving you to the edge as you hook your hands into his pants and slide them down. You get up from off of his lap momentarily to remove them from his haired thighs and toss them onto the floor before returning your full attention to the way his cock stands and almost visibly pulses.
‘What now?’ You breathe and watch Matt’s grin as his head props itself up onto your stack of pillows. ‘Back on my lap n’turn around… let me see that ass’ he instructs lightly, his voice soothing and encouraging as you squint your eyes and turn your back to him in confusion. Swinging one of your legs over to his other hip, you sit on his pelvic bones, the sight of his sticky red tip dripping from just below you.
‘Spit on it.’ He demands once again, this time in a more commanding tone. Again, you do exactly as he says and let a thick string of saliva pour from out of your mouth. It splatters right onto his head and he hisses as it slowly rolls its way down the left side of his thickness. ‘Good girl…’ he struggles, his voice forced through his gritted teeth.
‘Now put one of your legs in between mine and sit on my cock’, you obey him quickly, your core aching to feel his shaft forcing your walls apart as you hoist you left leg in between his so that you can now sit on top of him at an angle. Gravitating upwards, you grip onto him and push his tip in between your folds. Slowly sliding down you let out a gulping pant before fully sitting your ass back down over his bulging hipbone. Matt tips his head back and feathers his eyes shut before willing himself to slide the thigh nestled in between your two legs upwards.
He brings it up just far enough for you to grind your clit over it when you start to move.
‘There’s your thigh angel’.
He smirks whilst looking at your back, your ass so tantalisingly sat on him that he could burst at any moment. He feels the heat from your clit emanating towards his thigh readily and it makes his mouth water.
Your chest heaves as you look down at his haired thigh wedging open your legs, the hard muscle of it brushing against your clit ever so slightly. After a couple of moments of silence and heaving breaths, Matt decides to reach out his hands to smooth them against the curves of your hips, his palms splayed on the sides of your asscheeks. ‘Is my little girl gonna move then, hm?’ He hums tauntingly, before helping you a little by rocking you forward and flexing his thigh towards you so that you can grind it onto your clit.
Your breath hitches and one of your hands comes flying up to firmly grasp ahold of his bent kneecap, the other one gripping onto the bedsheets at your side.
He starts to move you gently, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt slickly whilst your weeping clit is continuously stimulated on his thigh. You bite your lip, tossing your head back and arching your spine into the rest of his thigh whilst he keeps his eyes trained on the way your ass shakes gently with every swivel of your bouncing hips.
‘Thaaaat’s it… that’s my good girl’ he coos up to you with his raspy voice, admiring you from the back whilst you get off to him in the scissored seating arrangement.
‘Matt… this feels so good- please don’t… don’t stop…’ you whine through a moan, twisting your neck back slightly so that you can watch the way Matt’s mouth opens through pants, his cheeks pink with bashfulness as he guides your hips with his veiny hands. He hits all of your sweet spots at once this way.
‘Don’t worry angel face… m’not stopping until I make you cum the amount of times I made you cry…’.
•Eighth grade•
Matt and you are 13 now. Both going into eighth grade. Matt had been away at a summer camp all break and within that expanse of time you had developed a bit, both inwardly and more importantly… outwardly.
When you both return to school he isn’t quite expecting the sudden change in your appearance and he wonders how someone could morph so much in such a small amount of time… Going into your teenage years is certainly a perilous time for both of you because for one, your bodies are changing and your hormones are only just starting to activate properly, and two, Matt is finally getting to understand that possibly… affectionate feelings of his turn into acts of bullying when he likes someone.
That someone being you.
Matt’s 13-year-old self stands there, with gangly, growing limbs as he quietly ogles at you from afar, feeling awkward and self conscious in his own teenage boy body. What are these fucking feelings? Why are they so confusing? And why can’t they just leave him alone?
He watches you walk down the corridor towards him, his heart nervously thumping in his chest. He thinks you’re going to just walk past him, until he sees that you’re walking straight for him instead. He freezes, and almost pisses himself in fear with his fingers twitching and his eyes widened.
Quick Matt, think of something mean to say to her before it’s too late.
‘Excuse me’ you say bravely, trying to force down your nerves in front of a Matt, who clearly came back from summer camp with a gorgeous tan, his also usually dark brown hair bleached slightly lighter thanks to the sun. You thought it had been odd when his blonde hair back in first grade had slowly started to darken until he had turned into a brunette, but now you were used to it.
‘What?’ Matt mumbles, a little spaced out.
You raise your eyebrows at him. ‘Um… you’re standing in front of my locker I think’ you say, scared as to why he could be standing in front of your locker. Matt tried his hardest to shove down any nerves in front of you before scoffing and stepping to the side. He rolls his eyes.
‘Oh great, more than a hundred lockers in school and I get stuck next to yours’. Ah, so that’s why he is standing here… his locker is right beside yours. Great. You wince. You anticipate a mean comment from him every time you interact with him, but it doesn’t get any easier taking it. Guess that summer camp spirit he would have been surrounded with didn’t change his tune as much as you had hoped it would have.
‘Believe me, I’m not happy about it either’ you spit back, and shove past his lean figure to get to your locker. You start to put in your combination.
Matt blows a huff of air from out of his lips, crossing his arms and fidgeting about awkwardly behind you.
‘Knowing- knowing my luck… I’ll probably get stuck in the same class as you too’ he stutters, inwardly scolding himself for literally losing the ability to summon his normally quick witted attitude. Instead he stumbles over his words like an idiot. You only shake your head and sigh, shoving a note pad into the metal compartment before slamming it shut and re-locking it. ‘Whatever Matt’ you scoff and strut away, leaving Matt almost gripping the wall and heaving a sigh of relief when you’re gone.
But then later that day, it really is just your luck. Because both you and Matt end up walking into the exact same math class together, the two of you collectively sighing, but for vastly different reasons.
•Now•
‘Fuck you always feel so good’ Matt whines deliriously. ‘You’re perfect… just perfect for me’. The air around the both of you is hot, your skin rough and sticky with sweat whilst the sound of the bed squeaking underneath your bounces harmonises with your moans. You feel like crying in ecstasy, you love it when Matt’s cock makes you feel so full, because it helps to sate your appetite and you look forward to him coming around everytime he texts that he’s going to drop by.
You are so fond of how mature he is, how old he looks. It makes you squeeze your thighs together. And now he grows his beard out just for you because you say you like it so much, until it gets a little too long and he has to shave it again. But whenever it’s at that perfect stage, he always spends multiple nights around at your apartment, just so that you can utilise it. Matt doesn’t mind, he fucking loves it. Anything to make you happy.
‘I’m… I’m your good girl’ you breathe back to him, his thigh now almost soaking with sticky precum and spit whilst you grind you clit onto him and ride his cock simultaneously. ‘You’re my good girl’ he responds back reassuringly, the possessiveness in his tone only making you squeeze around him more. He doesn’t bother to bite his hand to hide his whimpers of pleasure because he knows you deserve to hear them, deserve to see the way you make him feel after all of these long winded years of unsolved feelings and pain.
You swivel on him a little longer, your tits bouncing rhythmically before pressure knots your stomach tightly together. Your mouth hangs slack as your shoulders heave more than normal. ‘Baby… baby I think I- I’m gonna cum’ you utter a high pitched breath to him, and he nods, rubbing his thumbs over your ass cheeks comfortingly as he helps speed you up a little faster. It drives him fucking feral when you call him baby, because he’s so fucking selfish and possessive over you.
‘Go on angel… cum all over me like a good girl’ he states once again, which is enough for the tight tension within your gut to snap. Waves upon waves of euphoria rush all down your thighs, your high lasting for a good while. Within this time, Matt’s breath similarly hitches, and it’s not long before he’s creaming his load into you too, ropes of cum dripping down your walls and around his now extremely slimy member whilst he thrusts you into oblivion and exemplifies your orgasm.
After they are over, you messily collapse backwards, your chest heaving thickly as you laugh. Your sweaty skins lies flushed against Matt’s whilst you rest on top of him. He smiles gently at your little giggle before scooping his arms up to tuck them underneath your tits. Using his upper body strength, he gently slides you up his torso a little farther so that he can cuddle you into him closely. He kisses your head gently, before moving on to kiss the shell of your ear as well. In doing this, his cock is slowly removed from your spent hole, allowing you to both relax in tired exhaustion.
Matt closes his eyes whilst nuzzling his nose into your hair. You delicately place your hands onto his forearms that wrap tightly around your chest. You stare at the ceiling before mumbling ‘who would’ve thought…’ down to Matt, who simply grumbles in questioning from below you. ‘That the guy who I thought used to hate me ended up in my bed a couple of years later’. You snigger and Matt smacks his lips, opening one of his eyes to turn and peek at your side profile from below you.
‘I never hated you… not really…’.
Author’s notes p.2: I just love Dominic Fike bro, any excuse to put his songs in one of my stories. No because I actually love this plot line, aren’t they just cuties?? I hope u guys were okay with visualising the position I had them in bc I gotta tell you, I was squinting my eyes trying to write it so that it made sense lmaoo. @luvmila444 u are so so welcome for this, sorry for the wait bbg :(. Also the blogs that are in bold on my taglist- I’m so sorry but for some reason tumblr isn’t recognising your names so I don’t think I’ve been able to tag u properly :/. But anyways I hope u all enjoyed this, and as always, ask/request anything, I love answering shit hehe.
Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @sturniolosreads @luv4kozume @luvmila444 @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @asturniolos @thesturniolos @matthemunch @sturnioloenthusiast @vecnasnose0 @chr1sgirl4life @kvtie444 @ellie-luvsfics @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @luverboychris @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @meanttomeet @rootbeerworshiper @lovergirl4387 @1800chokedathoe @sophie21153-blog
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byuntrash101 · 2 months
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big bad wolf
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f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the owner of the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut
#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡
a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3
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“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.
The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.
“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”
“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.
“Really?” He questioned.
“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.
“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.
You raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.
“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.” 
It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.
“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”
Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears. 
All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.
“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.
“Yeah I get it.”
Silence settled.
“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.
A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.
“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.
“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…
“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.
“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again. 
***
Well maybe you couldn’t…
That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds. 
“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.
He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.
The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.
“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. 
“Um, yeah a little bit I think” 
Lie. Big fat lie.
Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.
“Perfect! Let’s get started then” 
“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.
“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.
Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.
Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.
He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs. 
“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.
He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.
“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud. 
“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”
Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.
He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.
“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”
You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face. 
“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.
“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours. 
He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily. 
“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”
As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.
“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board. 
“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.
He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.
“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.
Thanks to Chris’ prepping,  the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho. 
Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.
“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.
“Ok” you huffed quietly.
You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared. 
“You… can move”
Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in. 
“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted. 
“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.
He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines. 
“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in. 
“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”
“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”
“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.
“Fuck I won’t last long baby”
“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there” 
Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.
“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg” 
“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath. 
You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you. 
“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew. 
“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.
“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.
“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it” 
“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”
It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.
“Yeah we should”
“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”
“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.
“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.
“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.
“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.
“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.
“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.
“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.
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3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation
a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3
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ceilidho · 4 months
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prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)
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He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.
“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”
The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.
“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.
“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”
The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke. 
He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.
“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.
You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”
“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”
“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”
“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people. 
He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together. 
There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind. 
Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?
Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.
He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.
When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”
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The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”
“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”
He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.
“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”
Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”
“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”
Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer. 
His bird really has the best ideas. 
Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”
He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes. 
They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home. 
He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself. 
It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge. 
“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.” 
You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company. 
“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”
“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.” 
“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.” 
He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.
“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”
You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”
“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words. 
“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.” 
“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”
“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it. 
“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”
That’s all his mutt needs to hear. 
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You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away. 
You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach. 
Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home. 
This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done. 
It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week. 
“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?” 
Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”
“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?” 
He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist. 
“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax. 
Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue. 
“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”
He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out. 
“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”
“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”
“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”
He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?” 
He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard. 
It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave. 
“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”
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emiliehornby · 2 months
Text
when you get me alone, it’s so simple
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pairing luke castellan x fem! child of aphrodite! reader
synopsis while luke is known for making people’s heads turn at camp, you finally give them a reason to stare after learning how much everyone seems to want him
warnings implied sexual content, descriptions of a make out session
author’s notes happy valentine’s day everyone!! the voices in my head were louder than usual, so i figured we could all use a sweet treat today!! mwah!! i hope y’all enjoy these headcanons
On a particularly slow day, the Aphrodite, Athena, Apollo, and Hermes kids decide to spend their free time around the lake. In a glimpse, Luke can be seen laughing with Chris. A radiant smile is plastered upon his lips while he takes in the sight of you. In the distance, Annabeth sits with Grover on a towel, letting her toes wiggle into the warm earth. She watches the water intently, making sure none of her siblings are in any imminent danger when the giggles from Apollo kids, Sadie and Caroline, drown out her thoughts.
“Gods, what I’d give to be in his arms right now.” Annabeth’s ears can’t help but pick up on the conversation taking place beside her. “It’s no surprise he’s taken. But you’d think as a Hermes kid, he’d go for someone more like…us.” Sadie sighs.
Grover leans in closer to Annabeth, his interest piquing when she rolls her eyes. He fears that the daughter of Athena is going to give them a piece of her mind when she stands, but Annabeth merely picks up the frisbee that lands near her feet. She throws it back to where it came from and sits back down to hear Caroline encouraging Sadie, “Come on, it’s only a matter of time before you’ll get your chance. The Aphrodite charm has to wear off eventually. I mean, it always does.”
This time, Grover can’t stop her from turning to them. “Look, you don’t know how things seem to work around here, so I’m going to explain something to you.”
“What Annabeth means to say is that-” The satyr attempts to soothe the situation, but she cuts him off amidst her stubbornness.
“Now, I know not all the Aphrodite kids are palatable, but Y/N is easily the sweetest one I’ve ever known. And there’s a real reason as to why Luke is so in love with her. But I guess you’ll never find that reason for yourselves if you continue to act like this at camp.” This effectively humbles Sadie and Caroline, who mumble to each other while they make their leave.
As if on cue, you walk up to Grover and Annabeth. You’re laughing with a Hermes kid that soon leaves to join the game of frisbee, but it dies down when you notice Annabeth’s hardened stare. You place a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?” 
Grover stands and hands over your towel while insisting it’s nothing. But Annabeth cuts Grover off again to explain, “Sadie and Caroline were saying things about you…and Luke.” You understand what she’s trying to imply and give her a squeeze.
It was no secret that Luke was well admired among his peers. Most of the time, it isn’t even an issue, but there were campers who thought they could change the course of your relationship every now and then.
Sadie and Caroline easily fall under that category, seeing as they completely ignored your existence when Luke decided to take you with him during their initial tour around camp…then there was the time Caroline pretended to lose her way at camp as an excuse to get Luke away from you and alone with her. And just two weeks ago, Sadie feigned hopelessness during a sword skills session. As the instructor, it was Luke’s job to adjust her form. However, it was glaringly obvious the Apollo girl had an ulterior motive, especially when she threw a snarky smile in your direction when she thought you weren’t looking.
“Oh…You don’t have to worry about that, Annie. I can handle myself just fine.” You reassure Annabeth to the best of your ability. She nods and stands to settle herself into your side.
In your peripheral vision, Luke is jogging over to you with his shirt in hand. You don’t miss the way Sadie and Caroline ogle at the thin layer of sheen coating his flexing muscles and the lines running down Luke’s back that aren’t actually sparring scars, despite what you tell the curious kids that help him out in the infirmary. You smile when he pats Annabeth’s arm and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Hey, is it time to head back already?” He asks, putting his shirt on as Annabeth checks her watch.
She huffs, “Unfortunately. We should get going if we don’t want to be late. I still have to grab my dagger.”
It’s a comfortable walk back, and when you reach the Athena cabin, Annabeth bids you two goodbye and runs inside. Luke’s hand is loosely intertwined with yours as you lead him to the Aphrodite cabin. He raises his eyebrows, asking, “Did you need something from your cabin? I thought you were working on archery right now.”
You push the door open, sheepishly admitting, “I am, but I was actually thinking of skipping out on lessons today.”
Luke’s tone is suddenly laced with concern, “Are you okay? Did something happen at the lake?” He drops your hand to check you over, but his touch doesn’t stray far from your waist to prevent you from moving away. But the gesture is welcomed and you take a step forward, a shy smile peeking through the corners of your lips.
His worry for you falters, mirroring your love struck expression, “Oh,” Luke pinches your side. You shove his chest with a shriek. “You’re awful.” He tells you, but he’s already got a hand tracing lightly over your cheek.
Your gaze switches from his dark eyes down to his lips, “You love me.” and that’s all it takes for Luke to dip down his head and meet you halfway. Your hands reach down under his shirt, feeling the warmth radiating from his toned torso. You bite down on his lower lip, and you know you’ve sent Luke’s head spinning when he lets out a short whimper. He attempts to deepen the kiss, but you pull away before he gets the chance.
Your eyes flutter open, whispering, “Do you want to skip lessons with me?”
Luke’s lips are lingering above yours when he responds, “Did you even have to ask?” and pulls you onto your bed. He settles his back against the wall and hums in content when you begin to pepper pecks on his jawline. 
After a moment, you pretend to move off of him, “I don’t know…you were pretty excited for combat training earlier. Maybe I should just let you go.”
In retaliation, Luke’s blunt nails dig into your waist, “Don’t you dare.”
A warmth flutters through your stomach when you hear the desperation in his voice. Your fingers itch to tangle themselves in Luke’s ravenous curls, lightly pulling so he can look up at you. A deceptively innocent smile paints your lips and you don’t skip a beat to get him back on you.
Heavy breaths. Discarded shirts. Whispered promises. This is how you spend the next hour in between your skipped lessons and the nightly bonfire. It’s nice, but you know it’s your cue to take a step back when the crowd of kids crawling outside the cabin becomes heavily audible.
You’re still on Luke’s lap when you say, “You look so pretty like this.” Your eyes flicker from his own to his kiss swollen lips and rowdy hair. There’s an urge to run your fingers through them, but you settle for lightly tracing over the fresh love bites that are scattered across his neck and collarbone.
Luke smiles dopily while you admire your work, “I think we should skip lessons more often.”
You finally get off of him, throwing his shirt to his chest while you smooth yours out, “Don’t be such a bad influence, you’re a camp counselor.” You can’t help but stare again when the marks heavily peek out near his collar, fading in between the orange fabric.
Luke notices your longing gaze and walks over to you, “You know, you’re not the only one with charm in this relationship. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go, lover boy.” You roll your eyes and take his hand. You stumble on your way out, but Luke is there to catch you. He chuckles and lets his arm rest over your shoulders while you reach up to hook your hand with his. He helps you find your footing until your legs wake up on the way to the amphitheater.
“Wait,” You halt just before you reach the steps. You grab Luke’s necklace, gently pulling him in. You let your hands rest on each side of his marked up neck and he hisses at the feeling of your fingers gently pressing on his sore skin. Luke bites down on your lip in response, savoring the hint of watermelon that seeps through until you pull away, “Just wanted one more.”
You’re satisfied once you see the hint of pink gloss smeared at the corners of his mouth. He takes your hand again, guiding you inside. You spot some of your sisters, greeting them with a wave. They giggle at you two in response, whispering frantically to each other while you find an empty space at the front of the bonfire.
“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” Luke asks Sadie, who happens to be standing to his left alongside Caroline. Chris, who’s sitting a step above them, unashamedly howls with laughter at the sight. He leans forward to clap Luke on the back, catching the attention of Grover, who sighs in embarrassment, and Annabeth, who’s trying her best not to giggle at the sight of a gobsmacked Sadie. She and Caroline shake their heads frantically, broken words bubbling from their throats as they take in Luke’s glossy, blissful smile that he throws at you.
They finally give you the time of day, noticing that the reason for his contentment comes from your own swollen lips. You look back at them with a smile and take your rightful seat next to Luke, who wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer, watching as they go back to their siblings to start tonight’s singalong.
If the fire glows a little greener as Sadie and Caroline lead the singalong, no one comments on it. They all know better than to mess with the insatiable charm you hold on Luke. After all, you are your mother’s daughter.
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cry baby
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 7.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** smüt, ed*ging, overstimulation, crying during s*ex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.
a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡
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“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”
it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.
you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”
she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.
“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”
natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”
“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”
“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”
you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”
natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”
“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”
nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.
sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.
“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.
he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”
bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.
“i’ll murder you,” you promise.
“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.
you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.
bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“that bad, huh?” he asks.
you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.
“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.
“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”
you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”
“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”
“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”
it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.
“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”
you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”
this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”
the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.
“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.
“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”
if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.
“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.
“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.
“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.
you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”
“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.
“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”
“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.
“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”
bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”
“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.
“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.
you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”
he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”
“what?”
just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.
“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.
his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”
“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”
“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”
“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.
he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”
“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.
“think about it?” he implores.
you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”
he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.
needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.
***
you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?
it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.
but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?
bucky: experience?
you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.
you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?
bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.
you: says you
bucky: and a few other people :)
bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you
you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.
you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…
bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.
your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.
bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?
biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.
it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.
you: okay. we’ll try.
***
it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.
(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)
you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.
you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.
by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.
he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”
“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”
he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.
“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.
bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”
you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.
“nervous?” he wonders curiously.
you shake your head. “not really.”
he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”
“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”
he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.
with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”
“you can’t really promise that, though.”
“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”
you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.
you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.
“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.
you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”
his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.
“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.
“great! finish your wine.”
you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.
“let’s do this,” you say, determined.
bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.
“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”
“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”
“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.
he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.
it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.
he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.
“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”
you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.
his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.
you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”
bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”
your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.
quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.
“my turn,” he says against your lips.
carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.
“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.
shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.
he hums. “beautiful.”
he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.
you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.
“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.
“hm?”
you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.
“please,” you whimper.
“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.
“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.
his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”
“bucky,” you whine.
“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”
when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.
“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.
“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”
he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”
he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.
“may i?”
“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.
he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.
“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”
a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.
~
a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.
“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.
bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.
just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.
your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.
bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”
you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.
“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”
you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.
“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.
he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.
“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”
“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.
he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.
“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.
he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.
you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.
instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.
“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.
bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.
unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.
it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.
bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.
you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.
“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.
you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.
“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”
when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.
“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”
“i literally just did the impossible.”
“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.
he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”
“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.
“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.
you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.
“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.
he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”
well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.
***
except, things kinda change between the two of you.
it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.
another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.
“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”
he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”
“oh,” you said again. “okay.”
so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.
in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?
a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.
but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.
“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“
when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.
“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.
whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.
you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.
“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”
“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.
he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.
“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”
you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.
and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.
after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.
“what do you want to watch?” he asks.
“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”
as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.
“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.
“okay,” you reply after a moment.
he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.
it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.
you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.
he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”
“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.
“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”
you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.
“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.
you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.
the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.
“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.
you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.
you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.
as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.
bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.
hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.
***
bucky: dinner tonight?
you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.
you: sure. what time?
bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.
reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.
bucky: dress nice ;)
with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.
by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.
“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”
he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.
“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”
he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.
this was going to suck.
the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…
conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.
after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.
“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”
oh fuck, here it goes.
“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”
“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.
“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”
did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.
“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”
you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.
bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”
“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.
“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”
“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”
bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”
“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”
bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.
“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”
“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.
he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”
“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”
he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”
your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.
smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.
“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.
“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.
“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”
“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”
“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.
“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”
you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”
“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”
you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”
he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.
“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”
bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”
he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.
6K notes · View notes
anothertimdrakestan · 10 months
Text
Batboys Toxic Traits Headcanons
because no one is perfect, i wanted to get a little dirty with it and imagine what the boys are like when they're a little... too obsessed with you.
tw for romanticizing possessive, obsessive, jealous, aggressive actions haha xoxo
Jason Todd
- scary dog privileges wherever you go with jace, but he is ALL bite with one and only one warning bark.
- when a hand that isn't his brushes your thigh in a club, fingers get broken. when a cat caller thinks his compliment just has to be said to you, he most likely won't be able to speak again for weeks. And god forbid any villain try to use you as bait for jason, they've all learned if they value their life to never touch you. He's all for justice not vengeance until anyone tries to mess with you, then those words always get mixed up in his head.
- sometimes you cant even complain about people, they end up getting randomly harassed by a certain someone until they just move town
- jason is adamant as long as he's alive there won't be a problem of yours he can't solve with a little violence
- your biggest problem is that he struggles to let you have guy friends, obviously the ones he knows especially fellow heroes are more than fine, but he's been known to burst blood vessels when he sees you close and person with men he's never met
- he's proud of it too: "let another man try and touch y/n, it's been a slow night for me." or "i just don't get why you need him as a friend when you have me, myself, and i"
Tim Drake
- tim gets... obsessive.
- he tends to fall hard but with you he brought the house down with him
- before you were officially his he had hacked every security camera in the city to have eyes on you at any given moment
- both for your safety and his own maniacal flirting strategy: you admire shoes but frown at the price tag? tim's buying you the matching bag to go with the shoes he bought the second you looked at them.
- before you knew how insanely in love with you he was, you truly thought he was a mind reader
- well he kind of was, seeing as he scrolled through your search history every night to know which talking points to bring up with you
- once you finally fell for him and set some stronger boundaries he still occasionally found himself double checking your location when you weren't by his side, or lazily purchasing every item on your pinterest boards, he just can't help but dote on you
Damian Wayne
- damian doesn't really get close to people, but as always you were his exception
- however, this means his list of people to hang out with is extremely short, and he saw no problem in wanting to be around you wherever you went whenever he could
- like a kind of tall, dark, and brooding puppy, he quietly followed you everywhere, and when you strictly told him he couldn't follow along, you always noticed a perched shadow just a few building away
- eventually you got used to rolling over to damian coolly watching you sleep or patiently waiting to pick you up from your classes/job, happy just to walk you to your car
- just like jason, damian had a brutal and heartless style of problem-solving when it came to anyone giving you trouble
- too often you found yourself standing in between his rage a massive mistake whether it was nearly assaulting a friend of yours who tried to ask you out or threatening to buy out your entire workplace when you didn't get the promotion you wanted
- forever cooling his rage was worth having his adoration though, and you were happy to have your overbearing shadow follow you throughout your days
Dick Grayson
- for such a bubbly leader, dick often struggled with communication
- always used to bearing his problems alone youd spent too many nights tracking down your own boyfriend only to beg him to tell you what's wrong
- he never understood that you didn't always want to solve his problems, but hold his sadness or hurt with him
- it was the worst when he was upset with you, whether it was jealously or insecurity that crept into his mind
- he'd take off in a rush hoping you wouldn't notice but you always did, either hunting him down or simply waiting with open arms for him to come home
- it would take years to teach your traveling-circus-raised boyfriend that you weren't going anywhere, ever.
- but, this made for many heartfelt nights where he held you and promised you the world, as if you'd opened him up in a way no one else could, pulling forward the most magical and loving side of your sweet boy
6K notes · View notes
indulgentdaydream · 3 months
Note
Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)
anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.
Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.
Out of the Bag
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Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.
Word Count: 1,862
Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use
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You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.
“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.
That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.
You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.
“Princess,” he sounded panicked.
Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”
You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”
The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.
You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”
He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.
That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.
You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”
“I’m tired,” you mumbled.
It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.
“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.
You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.
Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.
He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”
You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.
Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.
He’ll apologize when you wake up.
When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.
No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.
His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.
Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.
“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”
Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.
That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”
Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”
Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.
There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”
“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”
Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.
Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.
He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”
Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”
A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”
Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”
Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.
He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.
Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.
He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.
The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.
There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.
Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.
“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.
Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”
Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”
Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”
Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”
Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”
Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”
A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”
Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.
“Are they seriously listening right now?”
Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”
Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”
Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”
Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.
Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”
“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”
“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“
“What’s going on…?”
Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”
“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.
Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.
You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”
Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”
“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”
Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”
You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”
“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.
From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.
“Out!”
Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”
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seeingivy · 4 months
Text
pretty girl
ryomen sukuna x f!reader
an: kind of suggestive? reader is super insecure + sukuna might be ooc but ??? yk. it is what it is. come get yall juice.
**part of my best friends (older brother) fic
--
when sukuna’s phone rings - for the third time, signaling that he actually has to pick up now - he definitively decides that he is going to move far, far away. maybe if he lived in shibuya, or even as far as kyoto, his stupid little brother wouldn’t call him every time he got too drunk to drive him and his idiotic friends home. 
and when sukuna walks straight into the bar - blaring music, haphazard puddles of alcohol all over the floor, and the most pungent, putrid sweat smell hanging in the air - he’s almost positive that he’s going to start looking for a new apartment tomorrow. 
it takes him approximately thirty-five seconds to find yuuji. though he supposed he should have noticed faster that the pink haired idiot standing on top of the bar, with a black sea urchin shaking at his legs was exactly what he was looking for. 
sukuna makes his way over, shoving megumi hard in the shoulder as he looks over, eyes glazed and cheeks pink. after almost seven times of doing this, sukuna knows exactly how this is going to go. that despite the tattoos, the entirely different facial structure, and physique, megumi is going to confuse sukuna for yuuji. 
“yuu’? how’d you get over there so fast?” megumi murmurs, reaching to cup the side of his face. 
right again. sukuna smacks his hand out of his peripheral as he looks up at yuuji, who hasn’t even noticed that he’s arrived yet. 
“move over.” he responds, irritated. 
the second megumi lets go, sukuna all but shuffles yuuji off of his balance, making it a point to somewhat break his fall off of the countertop. only somewhat, because naturally he wouldn’t injure his little brother. but that doesn’t mean he’s not deserving of sometime of retribution for all the times he’s had to do this.
yuuji’s groaning in his arms as he pulls him up, as he halfheartedly makes grabby hands for fushiguro who was three feet away. 
“‘gumi, cm’here.” 
“we’re leaving. you can sit next to your gumi in the car.” sukuna states sternly, curling his nose at the godawful nickname, as he drags the two of them straight out into the cold air. 
he’s all but opening the doors for the two of them, getting more irritated as the two of them excitedly look up at the sky, pointing at all the little stars together before he all but shoves them again. 
“look yuuji. it’s us.” 
“where?” 
“the two stars next to each other.” 
sukuna watches yuuji’s eyes go wide, cheeks bright pink, as he wraps his arms around megumi. and fights the urge to gag. 
it’s only then - when he’s wrestled seatbelts onto the two of them and stopped megumi from being the affectionate drunk that he is - that they make it a point to share an important piece of information. 
“kugisaki and y/n are still in there! we can’t leave.” yuuji whines, leaning his head against megumi’s as his eyes quickly start drooping, almost fluttering shut before he can ask where the two of you could possibly be. 
sukuna shuffles back through the group of bodies, this time looking for the other pair of the set. it takes more effort - because he’s sure that kugisaki is going to be sucking face with someone in the back corner and he’s going to have to put an end to it. and you. you were always particularly hard to find. 
he spots the red hair three feet away and takes a deep breath. she’s almost entirely sitting on the girls lap - green hair, shitty glasses - as he makes it a point to tap on her shoulder. naturally, she doesn’t stop and he gets more disgusted as it goes on. he never thought she’d be so…handsy. or that he’d have to see it. 
he does the next best thing. reaches to her side and tickles her, just enough to stop her and start the godawful, obscene screaming that worsens tenfold with every consecutive pint of alcohol she drinks. and of course, she’s just as predictable as the last. 
“yuuji?! where the fuck do you get off doing that?” 
he reaches for her wrist, shooting a polite smile. 
“maki. always a pleasure. kugisaki, we’re leaving.” 
“i’m not leaving.” 
maki gives him a halfhearted shrug as he all but throws her over her shoulder, tuning out the insults that are streaming out of her mouth as he all but carries her through the group of bodies. if you weren’t regulars here, sukuna was positive that he’d get arrested for that profanities coming out of her mouth - that, and the fact that it looked like he was abducting her. but no one turns a blind eye, almost irritated that she’s at it again. 
that makes two of them. 
when nobara’s tucked into the back, he makes it a point to throw a water bottle at each of them - specifically square in the face for yuuji and megumi who are cuddling in his backseat - as he glares at all of them. 
“okay, kugisaki. where’s y/n?” sukuna asks. 
she’s leaning her head back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut, as she murmurs something unintelligible. 
“she….ugly.” kugisaki murmurs. 
“she’s ugly?” sukuna deadpans. 
well, she’s certainly not ugly. 
“ugly…bathroom.” she murmurs again, taking it as his best option. 
sukuna marches back into the bar, for the third time, and beelines straight into the bathroom in the back. and there you are, crumpled up on the floor with your knees hiked to your chest, with big tears in your eyes and two girls sitting right across from you. 
sukuna finds the sight rather…unusual. he knew that girls were quite different than guys, having heard you go on your spiels about womanhood and female friendship too damn often to know that it was a whole thing that was beyond him. but really, he finds it sincerely odd that the two girls sitting across from you are comforting you in your puddle of tears. 
it’s not that sukuna’s stereotyping. or being judgemental. or he is a little, but he doesn’t frankly care. because labels, or groups or whatever existed for a reason. people who were similar flocked to one another. it’s how people were comfortable. how they functioned. 
which is why sukuna’s unsure why these two girls - who are actually dressed up to be at the club - are sitting on the tiles with you, when you’re wearing one of those pink ribbons in your hair, that of course, matches the one on your bag. 
but granted, this is you he’s talking about. he’s spent enough time trying to figure you out, before he naturally gave up. he always found that you transcended normal groups that he assigned. 
you look up at him through your tearfilled eyes, a half smile on your face. 
“sukuna, you-you’re here.” 
sukuna ignores the fact that he’s pleased, very pleased, that you didn’t just confuse him with yuuji, as he holds his hand out to you and grabs your purse with the other one. and when you place your hand in his, you can feel the heat rushing up your body, more so when he leans down, lips few feet apart as he murmurs to you. 
“we’re leaving. now.” sukuna states, glaring at you. 
you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, acutely aware of every detail on his face. that his hair is slightly messy - because he must have woken up to come get you - and that his eyes are almost tired. you fight the urge to smile...at how sweet It all is.
“okay. thanks for coming to get us.” you respond, giving him a smile. 
the two girls sprawled on the floor stand up, yanking their dresses down the slightest amounts as they flash you warm, kind-hearted smiles.
sukuna, really, truly does not understand it. at the way that you’re so open with them, despite the fact that they must be strangers. 
“you, give him hell. and you, i’m really happy for you. i’m sure your wedding will be beautiful.” you state, pointing at the two girls who had been accompanying you on the bathroom floor for the past hour. 
“and you. stop letting people call you ugly and taking it to heart. the bows are cute. your fashion is amazing. and men don’t deserve shit.” the first girl slurs.
you give her a smile, as sukuna all but tugs you out of the bathroom by the wrist, arm secured around your shoulder as he leads you through the crowd. sukuna drops his arm around you as the crowd gets thicker, hands straight on your waist as he steadies you in front of him. and when he leans down to whisper in your ear, it sends a shiver down your entire spine. 
“do i even want to ask?” he sneers. 
“it’s her bachelorette party! and that’s her best friend, though she seems kind of…off her rocker. but in a good way. power to her for being bold.” you respond. 
sukuna rolls his eyes as he pushes you out into the cold air last, reaching for the front seat door and opening it for you. except when he looks back, you’re staring up into the sky just as yuuji and megumi were, the softest of smiles on your face.
sukuna makes a mental note of the dark, black tear streaks on your cheeks and your sniflfy nose as he clears his throat to get your attention. 
“oh. sorry, i’m here. i’m here.” you respond, quickly shuffling into the car as you wipe your face. 
sukuna shuts the door behind you, pausing to look up at the sky too. and silently wonders what exactly it was that you thought when you looked up at it. 
--
sukuna makes it a point to take you out of the car last. because naturally, he’d save the easiest job for the end. by the time he had turned onto his street, you were snug asleep against the window of his car, creating a small indent into your forehead from the plastic of the door as he parked on the street. and he’d give you the few seconds of peace as he wrangles the rest of them out. 
megumi and yuuji were easy to wrangle. because if sukuna too one out, the other one would quickly follow - and mope a great deal. megumi was on the side closer to the door, meaning he had to brace himself for the confusion once again, as he shrugged him awake. 
“‘yuu. are you going to carry me to bed?” he murmurs. 
“absolutely fucking not.” sukuna responds, yanking him out as yuuji follows up the stairs. he sets the two of them on the couch, a surefire way to ensure that they don’t do something heinous to his sheets during the night - or the morning after - as he braces himself for kugisaki next. 
when he slings her arm around his shoulder, the obscenities start. 
“maybe if you had a job or something, maybe we wouldn’t bother you so much. It-” 
“i have a job, kugisaki. a job that just payed for your drinks, mind you.” 
it seems that in his rusk of getting ready, yuuji had accidentally swiped his wallet on the way out. and of course, it was his turn to pay for the drinks. 
“you need to get a hobby. have you thought of sewing?” she asks. 
“that would be useful. then i’d have hundreds of needles to stick in your eyes.” 
“when was the last time you felt the touch of a woman, sukuna?” 
“when was the last time you went on a date? are the middle school makeout sessions hitting the mark for you, kugisaki?” 
“shut the fuck up.” she sneers, reaching to smack him as he shoves her straight on to the guest bed and quickly shuts the door behind him. 
he’s satisfied when he hears no inclination of her following, which always seems to be a gamble depending on how much she’s downed that night. or how short he cut off whatever it was she was doing with maki. 
when sukuna makes it back to the car, he half debates just leaving you in there. because you look so comfortable, with his stray jacket strewn over your shoulders, and your breath that’s fogging up the glass of the mirror. but the fact that your neck is at an awkward angle and the cold air solidify his decision. 
he open the door and you halfhazardly jolt awake, blinking your eyes as sukuna comes into your line of vision. you shoot him a smile as he holds his hand out to you, locking them together as he drags you up to the apartment, straight into his bedroom. 
“can i use the bathroom?” you ask. 
“you know where it is.” he responds, noting and particularly hating the biting tone in his voice. 
“thank you!” you respond, shuffling into the room and shutting the door. 
albeit weirdly, sukuna presses his ear to the door to confirm his suspicions. and the soft clinking of bottles, of the water running on and off, tells him enough. 
that you’re doing your longwinded skin care routine in his bathroom. that you shoved all of your serums and moisturizers in your purse because you couldn’t skip out on it for even one day. 
he’d make it a point. to slam the door open and make fun of you for it. but he bites down any retort he has when he hears soft sniffling and pushes the door open for an entirely different reason. 
“what the hell is your problem?” he asks. 
“huh?” 
“you and your friends get obscenely drunk. then, you call me in the middle of the night and wake me up. and right when i’m about to go to bed, you’re crying in my bathroom. so what the hell is it? just tell me.” 
you sniffle. 
“do you really want to know?” you whisper. 
“you’re wasting more of time with your shitty attitude. i’m not going to stand here and coax it out of you, so just tell me straight up or stop crying.” 
you sigh. 
“if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” 
sukuna wants to smack you. of course you feel the need to talk in tongues. 
“in english this time?” he asks. 
“you can try to look nice as much as you want. but even all that…makeup…fancy skincare. it can’t change the fact that i just look like this. that if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” you state. 
“you think you’re a pig?” sukuna asks. 
you sigh. 
“maybe.” you murmur. 
sukuna tosses you the extra set of clothes he dragged out, tossing them straight at you as you send him a grateful smile. 
“thanks, sukuna.” you murmur. 
“for what?” 
he could barely even muster a response, a coherent one that you deserved, in response to what you shared with him. 
“dunno. i tell other people and they just kind of go…but you’re so pretty!! and…it falls flat. it’s nice to not be coddled. just said things as they are.” 
sukuna can feel a burning feeling in his chest that increases tenfold when you press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. and he stands there dumbfounded, watching you smile and make a move to walk away. he instinctively reaches for your bicep and pulls back, a sweet smell emanating from whatever you’ve just smeared on your face, as he looks down at your lips. 
there’s some type of glitter on them. whatever you’ve just put on makes them look bigger, fuller. he wonders if some trace of it is left on his cheek. 
“did you need something?” you ask. 
“sleep in my bed.” 
“huh?” 
“i’ll take the couch. get in the bed.” he utters. 
the following morning, sukuna wakes up to three plates of breakfast with an annoying sticky note pressed on top. 
thanks for coming to get us sukuna!!! :DD 
it’s the first time the thought crosses his mind. that his preconceived notion might be incorrect. 
that it’s not that you’re too good for him. it’s that everyone else isn’t good enough for you. 
--
the next time you see sukuna is when you’re teetering past tipsy to fully drunk in your childhood bedroom, on christmas eve. well, he’s not exactly inside the room, more knocking on the door frame.
you gesture for him to come in, setting the wine bottle down, as he takes the seat next to you. 
“where’s yuuji?” you ask.
“still at megumi’s.” 
sukuna loosens the tie around his neck and unbuttons the top three buttons of his collared shirt, as he slides closer to you. you've never been one to shy from his touch, settling into his embrace, as he racks his mind, desperately, on how to broach the topic, that’s been on his mind for weeks. 
sukuna slides his arm around your shoulder to your nightstand, to a little bundle of dried flowers. he opts to leave his hand pulled around you, as he pulls it closer to the two of your faces, resting his temple against yours.
“what’s this?” 
“it’s my corsage from prom. like sixty years ago.” 
“who did you go with?” sukuna asks. 
“no one. i never got asked. i just bought one because…you know how all the girls line up in a row and stick their hands out to show their corsage off? i didn’t want to be left out of that picture.” you state. 
“so you ordered it yourself?” 
“mhm. pink flowers, white bow. it matched my dress.” you hum. 
“always the bows huh?” 
sukuna sets the corsage down in your lap, as he leans closer into your space and digs into his pocket. you can smell his cologne, strong and musky in your space, as it mixes with your own flowery perfume and gives your head a slight rush. 
he pulls out his keys and sets them flat in the palm of your hand, as you inspect each little accessory on his ring. there’s two keys - one for his apartment and one for his house - and two keychains. one of him as a lego, which you know yuuji bought him for his birthday, and another one from alaska, that you and yuuji had bought him on your school trip in eighth grade. 
but the third is a ribbon, secured right on the ring of his keychain. you inspect it between your fingers, and he supplies the answer before you can ask. 
“you left it at my house.” he states. 
“so…so you put it on your keys?” 
“wanted to make sure it was on me. in case i saw you.” 
you make a move to pull it off the ring, but he closes his hand over yours. 
“it’s mine now.” he states. 
“then why did you show it to me?” you whispers. 
sukuna’s not sure what it is that drives him to do it, merely the fact that he has no patience and surely no self control, but he hooks his hand straight under your thigh, securing you straight on his lap. you can feel your breath hitch in your throat as he leans his forehead straight against yours, his hands on your thighs burning your skin. 
“what are you doing? yu-yuuji will eventually get here you know.” you whisper. 
“do you like him?” sukuna asks. 
“what? no-no, he’s with megumi. and he’s gay.” you whisper. 
“so why are you thinking about him when you’re here with me?” 
“i-i’m not. you just-”
sukuna swallows hard, taking a deep inhale of your smell, before he slithers one of his hands around your neck and pulls you closer. he can feel you fidget in his lap, nearly knocking over half the things behind you as you twitch in his lap and he murmurs into your skin. 
“relax.” 
you take a deep breath, grounding yourself by digging your hands into the muscle of his arms.
“okay. you-”
“the guy at the bar. what did he say to you?” he whispers. 
“which guy?” 
“when i picked you up last. when you slept in my bed.” 
you feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 
“nothing. he-” 
sukuna’s squeezing into the plush of your thighs, his hands firm and warm as you fight the urge to yelp. 
“tell me what he said.” 
“nothing, sukuna. i didn’t want to kiss him yet. and he leaned in. got-got offended. just said some things before he walked away.” you mumble. 
“things like?” 
“like you know. the usual stuff.” 
“that you’re ugly?” he asks. 
it's almost embarrassing, but his look is so unrelenting that you have to give in. you nod, as sukuna takes his hands off of your legs, bringing them up to cup the side of your face this time. he snakes one of his hands into your hair, yanking the bow out as he curls it in his hand. 
“do you believe him?” he asks. 
“no.” you respond. 
sukuna leans closer, his lips brushing against yours as you instinctively shut your eyes. that it burns too much to look at him. 
“are you lying to me?” 
“n-no.” you mumble back, as you try to lean in but feel sukuna pull back. 
when you open your eyes, you can’t but pout as he smiles at you, as he grins at you after pulling away. 
“don’t be a tease, sukuna.” 
he laughs into your neck, before the warmth blooms on your neck as his lips connect to your skin, as he leaves a trail of warm kisses up the side of your neck. each new spot he touches has you nearly melting in his touch, as he can feel you slouching onto him, leaning your entire body weight against his. 
he continues that way, refusing to kiss you full on the mouth, as you feel your skin bloom warmth with every new place that he touches. each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, even your eyelids that you’ve fluttered shut this entire time. some part of it is agonizing, that he continues to give but won’t receive in return. 
you take his collar into your hands, crumpling the fabric as you yank him straight and feel him smile against your lips. 
“needy?” 
“please. i want to-” 
sukuna cuts you off before you can finish your request, the first inclination of your begging snapping the very little patience he had in the first place. your lips are soft and warm against his, as you surely spread that glittery nonsense over him, over his neck as you start peppering kisses over him. from how shy and awkward he’s seen you, he swallows down the surprise at how eager you are, at the way you’re basically pawing at him through his shirt.  
except you pull back, wide eyed, when the two of you hear pounding up the step, accompanied by two voices getting louder in your ears. 
“y/n!!! y/n, y/n merry christmas!!!” yuuji bellows, as you shove sukuna onto the floor and sit upright as he pads into the room and wraps you in a hug. 
sukuna wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he stands up, giving megumi a nod, as yuuji turns to him and shakes hands. sukuna can’t help but smile at how pink your cheeks are, swollen lips and glazed eyes, as megumi and yuuji settle into both of your sides, arms wrapped around you. 
you swallow hard as you look at sukuna, wide eyed as you noticed all the lipgloss that you left over him. and pale when megumi notices the big red mark on his neck. 
“is that a rookie mark, sukuna?” 
sukuna brings his hand up to his neck, only to be met back with the glitter on his fingers as he smiles - or more appropriately, grins at you - as you feel your cheeks go pink. 
“who gave you that sukuna? your neighbor?” yuuji asks. 
you feel your eyes go wide, as sukuna pinches his eyes at yours before responding. 
“no. i haven’t talked to her in a while.” 
you tuck away the detail, making sure to ask him about it later. it’s only now that sukuna’s reputation comes to the forefront of your mind, as you realize you might have made a grave mistake by letting sukuna indulge in whatever infatuation it is he’s having with you. 
“yuuji. did you say hello to y/n’s sister?” he asks. 
“she’s back in town?” he asks, turning to you. 
“mhm. got back in today.” you murmur, as the two of them shoot you a smile and shuffle back into your room. 
sukuna lifts you up by your wrists, as he starts fixing your appearance little by little. you can feel him zipping up the back of your dress - entirely unsure when he even had the time to do that - as he snags the little bow from his pocket and smooths it back into your hair. 
“whose your neighbor?” 
“jealous, princess?” he asks. 
you turn around, poking one of your hands into the muscle of his chest. 
“sukuna. i am not going to be one of your little lack-” 
“you are not a lackey.” he whispers. 
you pout at him, entirely disbelieving, as he wraps his hands around your face, the kiss sweeter, softer than the ones the two of you had just shared on the bed. 
“you’d kill me if you did that.” you murmur. 
“you think i relish in your pain?” he asks. 
“dunno. you-” 
he leans your head up again, tucking his head into the softness of your neck as he starts peppering kisses you again. your hands are a futile attempt to stop him, as he laughs into your skin. 
“i’m here to make you feel good. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks.” 
“oh?” 
“let me. you- you’ve always been my pretty girl. and no one can make you feel good, treat you like you should, better than me.” 
you push him off again as megumi and yuuji come back, with your sister in tow, as they gesture for you to join them downstairs. and sukuna follows behind, as you fight the urge to beam, when he secures his hand into yours behind their backs.
--
next part linked here
an: do NAWT ask for a part 2 bc I will do it. my brain is steaming. I am thinking thoughts.
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