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#it is your responsibility to look after the women around you
suashii · 2 days
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— 𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ౨ৎ
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okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 3k wc. ノ smut ノ nsfw (mdni) ノ characters aged 21+ ノ oral (f!receiving) ノ face sitting :3 ノ clothed sex ノ subby yuta ノ reader is a little mean at moments ノ jealousy
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you can’t say that you normally time how long it takes yuta to answer his door but you can say that it never takes this long. you add the oddity to your growing mental list titled: “ways yuta has changed since having sex for the first time.” it’s not one you ever saw yourself making but life has a way of throwing curveballs at people and this seems to be the one pitched to you. 
maybe yuta feels a bit different these days, but he’s still yuta. you’re sure you’ll get used to this new version of him soon enough.
a few more long seconds pass before you hear footsteps on the other side of the door and the barrier swings open, revealing yuta in all his glory.
“so you are home,” you comment with a smile upon finally being met with the sight of him. you don’t see him as often these days and the fact makes you sadder than you’d like to admit. so, you soak him in silently—the perpetual dark crescents beneath his eyes, the dark hair that hangs over the left side of his forehead, the way his hand almost unconsciously always finds its way to rest on his neck.
“sorry, sorry,” he apologizes with that familiar, sheepish grin of his. at least some things never change. “come in.”
the way he ushers you in and leads you back to his bedroom leads you to believe that you unintentionally interrupted him. he’s thumbing through the shirts in his closet when you come to stand by his bed and ask, “did i catch you in the middle of something?”
“oh, i’m heading out later so i was just getting ready.” you stop yourself from getting comfortable on his mattress at his response, although, when he turns around with a button up in hand, he uses his other to wave the misunderstanding away. “you can hang out though.”
“where are you going?” you ask him, plopping down on his bed. the scent lingering on his pillowcase and sheets is fresh like he just washed the bedding. however, you can still pick out a hint of the fragrance he wears regularly—warm and just a little woody.
“out for drinks,” he tells you. he’s in the process of trading out the t-shirt he’s been lounging in for the one he just picked out when your silence finally registers. a look over his shoulder at you is enough to tell him that the answer doesn’t satisfy you. the expression you’re wearing is telling—like you know there’s more that he chose not to say. it doesn’t seem like you’re backing down, either. with your silent prompting, he adds, “with a girl.”
“another date?” you have to stop yourself from frowning. “didn’t you go out with some other chick over the weekend?”
this is exactly why you haven’t seen him lately—he’s so busy meeting women and taking them home to fuck that he barely has time to spare for you. you’ve always thought that if he’s happy, you will be, too, but you have to admit that that isn’t the case. it’s worrying—how quickly he went from such a timid guy with no sexual experience to one who’s getting laid every three days.
you aren’t sure if this is coming from a place of concern for the girls crossing paths with him or if the whole fuckboy persona is beginning to become offputting to you, but you find yourself asking, “and they all know this is casual? that you’re seeing other girls two days after you hook up with them?”
“it sounds bad when you put it like that…” he starts, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. he’s only gotten around to fastening the bottom half of them, leaving the unblemished skin of his chest on display. “but yeah, we’re all on the same page.”
it’s still hard to believe that the shy little yuta you’ve come to know has turned over a promiscuous new leaf. it would be one thing if he simply lost his virginity and settled down with one partner but the extent of his sexual activities has truly surprised you. a question comes to mind—one that you normally wouldn’t ask your other friends but an important one considering yuta only just started sleeping around. “you’re getting tested, right?”
the question doesn’t phase him the way you think it will. you expect his eyes to widen and a furious red to overtake his cheeks and the tips of his ears but neither happens. he simply nods. “yes, of course.”
“and you’re wearing condoms?” you follow up.
“mm-mm.” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, the dark strands falling back into place. “who knows how many women i’ve gotten pregnant by now.”
you can’t hide the disbelief that paints your features—the way your mouth hangs open and your unblinking gaze glued on the man before you. the shock of his words makes it difficult to find your voice and you’re sure it comes out higher than usual when you finally do. “yuta, you cannot—“
“i’m joking!” he exclaims with a wide smile. it shrinks into something smaller when he sees how serious you are. “yes, i am wearing condoms. jeez, what’s with the third degree?”
“it’s nothing, just wanna make sure you’re being safe.” you had planned on sticking around until it was time for him to leave but the thought of staying here while he’s getting ready to see—to fuck—someone else isn’t a pleasant one. you swing your legs over the side of his bed and stand up, making your way to the door. “i’m leaving. have fun fucking your flavor of the day.”
“wait, wait, wait.” yuta reaches out to grab your arm. his calloused grip is warm and firm, though, you’re sure you could pull away if you wanted to—he’s made sure of that much. despite that, you don’t. “you aren’t jealous, are you?”
“wow,” you scoff and turn to face him. there’s a sparkling glint in his eyes, one that has no place being there. “you have seriously let this inflate your ego.”
your comment doesn’t offend him, doesn’t hurt him the way you secretly wished it would. instead, his thumb glides against your wrist, runs over your pulse as he leans down closer to you. his voice comes out just above a whisper. “you aren’t curious? not even a little?”
“not everyone wants you, yuta.” you finally pull your hand back. “someone should really put you in your place.”
your words put a smile on his face. “are you volunteering?”
you have no idea what’s gotten into him, why he’s poking you like a bear and looking for a reaction, but his incessant goading has done its job. reflexively, almost without a thought, your hands come up to shove the broad chest before you. yuta stumbles back and his legs hit the mattress, causing him to fall back against it.
for the first time since you walked in, shock washes over yuta’s face the moment you begin to approach him. you find yourself crawling on the bed and straddling him, your hands pressing into the mattress on either side of his head. his lips are parted now and they only seal when he swallows the lump lodged in his throat.
it’s almost enough to make you laugh—how quickly his tune changed from confident to a bundle of nerves. you guess this has yet to happen to him, not being the one who’s calling the shots, that is. maybe you aren’t quite laughing, but it does make a grin stretch across your lips.
“what happened, yuta?” you ask him, sitting back on your calves. you lift your hand and bring it to his face, letting your finger drag along the curve of his jaw. it may just be your imagination, but you swear you can feel him shiver at your touch. “you were practically begging for this just a second ago. but if you changed your mind, i’ll get up and go.”
“no.” he shakes his head, the hair against his comforter growing frizzy with the careless movement. his hands come up to rest on your hips. “please stay.”
“ah-ah.” you knock his hands away and panic flashes over the man’s face. “no touching. you have to earn that.”
he swallows thickly and gazes up at you with curiosity swimming in his eyes. “h-how?”
“be good for me,” you tell him, the grin apparent in your voice. you brush the stray strands of hair away from his face before leaning down just like yuta had to you only moments earlier. this time, you’re sure that he shivers when your whispered voice tickles him as you ask, “tell me what you want me to do.”
your fingernails graze over his exposed skin—down his neck, over his shoulders, along his collarbone, anywhere you reach. it’s meant to be no more than a way to keep you busy while you wait for a reply from yuta, but he seems to enjoy the touch and the way goosebumps raise following the drag of your nails. although his quiet moans are easy on the ears, it’s a bit boring for your taste. your hand slows on its path in search of an answer. “hmm?”
you’re almost convinced that his voice is stuck in his throat when his request finally fills the air. “k-kiss me, please.”
you waste no time fulfilling his wish, brushing your lips over the same spots your fingers had just been, stopping every now and then to press them down in soft kisses. they grow deeper as you traverse against his smooth skin, love bites marking the once spotless canvas. by the time you make your way up to his lips, your kiss is hungry, almost desperate on your end and his—like the both of you have been silently waiting for this time to come.
as much as you enjoy yuta’s pillowy lips against yours and the way he melts for you when your tongue slips past them, you have a desire for more. you keep that bit to yourself so as not to feed yuta’s existing albeit dormant cockiness, though, you are willing to nudge him in the right direction.
you pull back from the kiss, still close enough that yuta can feel your breath when you speak. “don’t tell me all you want is for me to kiss you. there must be something else…”
there are a lot of things that come to mind, a lot of things yuta has dreamt of doing with you, but one rises above the rest. he can only hope that you’re willing to indulge him. “would you…” his voice trails off as he turns his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.
“go ahead,” you start, grabbing his chin and turning his head so that he’s looking at you, “ask me.”
he’s never felt this hesitant before but none of the women he’s slept with have been you. they’ve never made him ask for what he wants, patiently waited until he verbalized his desires. and he hasn’t wanted that, no, not from them. as foreign as the task is, he’ll do it if that means finally getting a taste of you.
despite the warmth spreading over his cheeks, yuta forces himself to hold your eye. “can you—can you please sit on my face?”
hearing the words pass his lips makes your heart jump in your chest. the goal had been to get him to admit what he craved the most but part of you believed that yuta was still holding onto his old ways, too bashful and shy to come clean about his needs. perhaps you’re holding onto a version of him that he’s left behind for good, though, you want to see for yourself. “you really want me to?”
“god, yes, please.” his fingers dig into the comforter beneath him in an attempt to keep from touching you like you told him even though he’s itching to. he’ll be patient, be good, for you. “i want to taste you so bad.”
shy little yuta really is gone.
but you suppose it isn’t all that bad.
you crawl forward over him to situate yourself. his breath is warm against your bare thighs and it makes your skin prickle. you hike the skirt you’re wearing up your legs so the fabric doesn’t obstruct your view of his face—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see the show.
“you aren’t going to take off your panties?” yuta asks. he’s only inches away now and he’s sure if he tilted his head up just a little bit, he’d be able to stick his tongue out and reach you.
you shake your head with a smile. “i’ll tell you when you can move them. you can lick me through them for now.”
there’s a complaint ready on the tip of his tongue about how he wants to taste and feel you—only you, but he bites it back, figuring that you’ll revoke your generosity entirely if he seems ungrateful. patience, he reminds himself. if he’s patient, he’ll have all of you soon enough.
he wets his lips before diving in, tongue sloppily licking at the layer of cotton keeping him from you. despite the barrier, he can make out your landmarks—the lips he’s wishing his tongue could slip between and your clit that he desperately wants to suck on. even though it isn’t quite what he was expecting, he eats you out through your panties like a man starved.
the fabric is soaked through now and if it weren’t for the hint of you on his tongue, yuta would wonder whether it was his spit or your arousal leaving a darkened spot on your panties. the thought that he got you wound up enough to soak through your underwear oddly fills him with a sense of pride—feeds the ego you claimed he had earlier. he had brushed it off then but it’s hard to ignore now considering that you’re the woman he’s wanted to do this with for the longest.
yuta is a lot more talented with his tongue than you anticipated he would be. you can’t remember the last time someone drew such satisfied noises from you—sharp gasps that you suck in whenever he happens to brush against your clit and musical moans that fill the room when he finds that magical rhythm. you’re beyond pleased with his performance, but an unwelcome thought nags at the back of your mind as the man eats you out; just how many women did it take him tongue-fucking for it to feel this good? you know you shouldn’t say it, but you voice your thoughts anyway. the question comes out breathy, “did you learn to use your tongue like this on all those other girls?”
“they–” he starts, licking you once more before continuing, “they were all practice for you.”
the ache between your thighs grows all the stronger with his confession. you don’t doubt the sincerity of his words—if there’s one thing that you know yuta will never abandon, it’s his honesty. you can admit to yourself that you were jealous earlier, jealous of all the women yuta decided to sleep with instead of you. the envy has all but dissipated now that you know you’ve always been the object of his affection.
“push them to the side,” you tell him hurriedly. yuta doesn’t waste a second following your command, hooking a finger on your panties to drag them to the side. your glistening wetness is hypnotizing and if he wasn’t already salivating this sight would surely be enough to have him drooling. he thinks he could stare at your pretty pussy all day but what he really wants is for you to come on his tongue.
before you know it, he’s lapping at you like your arousal is the very water that he needs to survive. there’s saliva running down his chin as he savors the taste of you. the vibration of his moans against you serves as a means to work you up even more, moans and whimpers of your own bubbling up from your chest.
it’s nearly impossible for you not to grind down on him, to ride his face like there’s no tomorrow. yuta doesn’t mind being trapped between your thighs, only being able to breathe in your heavenly scent and taste your honey-like essence. his tongue glides between your folds, teasing your entrance with each up on down.
“ride my tongue,” yuta’s muffled voice sounds from below you. “use me to come.”
and you do, rocking your hips against his face in rhythm with the salacious movement of his tongue. each flick of the muscle is a drop in your cup that’s filled to the brim, threatening to spill over and flood at any moment. all it takes are a few swirls of his tongue around your sensitive pearl for a wave of pleasure to wash over you. your thighs tremble with your orgasm and your back arches as the aftershocks ripple through you all while yuta continues to languidly stroke your cunt.
he hums against you as you come down from your high, leaving a kiss on your clit before telling you, “you taste so good.”
the compliment makes your heart flutter. “you think so?”
he nods, or at least tries to from his place between your legs. “the best i’ve ever had.”
“well then i guess it’s only fair for me to return the favor,” you suggest, letting your head loll to the side. you can practically see the gears turning in yuta’s head but he doesn’t speak up to question you, instead, waiting for your clarification. “what do you say; want me to suck you off?”
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thanks for reading! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated :))
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ta3baee · 1 day
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Jungkook with a chubby girlfriend Pt.2 !
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Pairing : Idol!Jungkook x Chubby!Fem!Reader
Warnings : Nsfw headcanons after the sfw, I will include a cut and another warning though.
Mona’s notes : Edited & proofread by my wife. Minors dni! I’m not responsible for what you consume on the internet. Part one here! Reblogs are very much appreciated <3
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SFW !
• He’s the type to take your insta pictures for you and hype the fuck out of you, I’m talking “Yes mama!”+ “mhmmm look at those hips”+ “those curves my god” + “that’s my sexy lady” and so much more.
• Literally lives for your stomach pudge and your fupa?? Yup, he’s crazy for it.
• He knows you so fucking well that it’d take him just one single look to know how you’re feeling. If he catches you double checking yourself in the mirror with your hand slyly pulling down your shirt to cover yourself, he’d be up on his feet immediately and listing all the beautiful things about you, aka everything.
• We all know he’s basically a gym rat, and what’s a better trope than gym rat bf x chubby gf?? Absolutely nothing. He’d look so big and buff beside you it’d make you feel tiny and protected.
• When you’re out with him and get some looks from both men and women, he’d just stare at them and make them uncomfortable with a hand wrapped around your waist, holding your tummy (that’s how big his hands are).
• He adores it when he sees you cooking in the kitchen wearing a tank top, shorts, and no bra. You’d be minding your own business, and he’d just come up behind you and grab a boob or both and fiddle with it, other times he’d grab your tummy and squish it while whispering good morning and sweet nothings in your ear.
• During his late night lives, he’d go on and on about you, talking about a very simple feature of you in such beautiful detail; it could be a dimple or a specific stretch mark, he’s smitten.
• Imagine him sleepily blabbing about you;
• “my girlfriend is the best”
• “I’m gonna marry her and make her my queen- she’s already my queen, but an upgrade-not that she needs an upgrade”
• lmao, you get it.
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Nsfw below, do not proceed if it’s not to your liking
or if you’re a minor !
NSFW !
• A lil nsfw version of him taking your pics; “You’re making me so hard” + “What if I were to just bend you over right now?”.
• When your looking at yourself in the mirror, he’d come up behind you, hold your tum tum, and whisper dirty shit into ur ear all while he makes you hold eye contact with him.
• When he takes consensual pictures/videos of you riding him, his hand would either be holding your hip or grabbing a handful of your ass.
• Considering the proven fact that Namjoon loves thick girlies, Jungkook would - with your consent send him some of the videos of you riding him and throwing it back at him just to see Joon literally fall apart. He can look, but he can’t touch.
• On that note, when Jungkook has you over, he’d make sure to tap that ass extra hard so you’d be louder, and his bandmates would be forced to listen to you and suffer with their own boners…If only Jungkook would let them hit it…If only.
• This man is filthy rich, so prepare yourself to be spoiled to the max. New sets of lingerie every fucking day, if he can’t choose between two, he’ll buy you both… and an extra one.
• That hot portrait on his wall? That’s you and him; he’s shameless when it comes to you and doesn’t even bother hiding it when he’s on live. He’d simply do anything to show you off, even if it means getting in trouble with management.
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ackerfics · 18 hours
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my love is mine all mine ch 3 | toji fushiguro x female reader
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part one of to the girls who are failed by the narrative series.
series summary:
'the glorified womb', 'the heir bearer', 'the blessed flower of the jujutsu society' — they are just some of the titles given to the women of your mother's clan, and all of them eventually fell to you, the prodigal firstborn who has the misfortune of birthing someone who will be stronger than their predecessors. with the fate of someone's clan on your shoulders, there are only a handful of things told to you while growing up; be as demure as you can be, never open your mouth and squash your thoughts, sit with a posture befitting that of a lady wearing an invisible yet heavy diadem. but the one that rings the most goes like this: your only purpose in this world is to be a silent wife to a man who will give you the opportunity to carry the next generation of powerful sorcerers. you remember all of these as you walk toward zen'in ogi in your uchikake, the constricting material around your waist akin to the gripping hold of your cursed technique.
and in fate's funny little ways of fabricating legacies and stories, you forget them when you are spirited away by the man who always welcomes the coming of the seasons with you without fail.
chapter title: the answer will be an echo: why did you do this?
warnings: the zen'in clan.
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Your sister inherited the Joushou clan’s cursed technique.
It’s an announcement that has any member of your family reeling. What a waste, they say. This could have been phenomenal if not for the sex of the child. What good would a woman have if they assume the position of heir to a powerful clan that owns shrines of purification for generations? And with the head’s reluctance in re-marrying another pitiful woman, there is no chance that a son will be celebrated, which brings you at this moment—holding your little sister who was given the role of the heir a few months ago. It’s something that you have to accept for you have no ability to create a field of reversed cursed technique that can nullify any nearby techniques.
Four years have gone and your sister celebrated four birthdays with only you and a couple of loyal maids by her side. Your father, being the head of the clan, has growing paperwork and responsibilities on top of his desk with the passing years. Now older, your father has been scrambling with marriage proposals from other clans, all vying to have you in their hold — their riches on his table.
A wife. Pliant, obedient, meek, poised, virtuous; are some of the traits expected of you. They are drilled in your head every time you have lessons with your current tutor, a lady from one of the Joushou branch households, one Lady Yukina. Despite the harshness of the lessons she brings, she might be the only old lady who has never looked at you with disdain. Her gaze fills with understanding and sometimes sympathy when she reminds you that you have to be a woman fit for the jujutsu society.
You have long since understood that even with a title to your name, you are not safe from the whims of men. You remain as a piece in their games, meant to be broken when Time and Fate are not merciful to your soul. You know it—after all, your mother has lived long enough to tell the tale.
The Hanamo clan has always stood as the harbinger of a new generation of sorcerers, as the historians so love to write about in their scriptures. 
The ancestry flowing in your veins is proof that you will always be tied to the workings of the jujutsu world, that you will be a slave to the norms delegated by the higher-ups who uphold the traditions of time immemorial. It continues to resemble the essence of your existence. Without it, you are nothing but a husk—tossed aside for lacking purpose. To put it bluntly, you don’t want to be a wife if it means having a life lived by your mother. You are older now and aside from gaining marriage proposals, you have gained this awareness that not even your father can prevent. You wish to enjoy what they call middle school. At your age, you can’t help but think that maybe you could have been a senior. You want to join clubs, stay at school after classes, or go to cram school because you want to enter a prestigious high school. You long to experience staying up late and getting confession letters in lockers—feel the giddiness stolen glances in a room brings.
However, since Fate is not kind to girls like you, you are stuck here letting the wind carry your thoughts.
“Onee-chan!” 
“Hmm?”
You are drawn to reality at the sound of your precious little sister’s voice.
“What is it, Tiny?”
She giggles, teeth showing and eyes crinkling in happiness at the syllables of her nickname from you. The little girl of four bounds over to the picnic blanket that you are sitting on, the constricting material of the kimono around her figure preventing her from running too wildly. You carefully watch her, your arms stretching out and torso leaning forward when she nearly topples to the ground. The sigh of relief your chest has been holding is let out when she is secure in your arms, which is then followed by a small huff since she has been getting bigger. The little girl in your embrace places her chin on your chest, her pudgy cheeks pressing against you. “Onee-chan’s sadness, go away. I don’t want Onee-chan to be sad.”
You hum, your smile mirroring hers. “Why would I be sad when I have the cutest, most special girl in my arms?”
She squeals when your fingers start tickling her sides.
“Onee-chan, no!” Her voice is being carried by the wind, gleefully intermingling with the melody of the breeze. “Stop it!”
Laughter continues to bubble in your throat. A huge surge of warmth prompts you to lean down to press your forehead against your sister’s. “Why would I be sad when I get to see the most precious thing smile and laugh?” You nuzzle your nose on her hair. She always smells of something citrus and sweet, a combination fitting for the reason behind your smiles. “Tiny, your existence is enough to drive the sadness away. Nothing can make me shed tears if you’re here by my side.”
“Did Mama feel like that about me?” The slightest falter in your demeanour is unnoticed by your sister. “Ah! I didn’t mean to make Onee-chan sad again.”
“What?” You breathe out. You try painting a smile on your lips. “I’m not sad.”
“You are!” She retorts with an adorable scrunch on her nose. “The flowers never lie, Onee-chan! They always lose their colour when you’re sad.” You don’t even have to ask how your sister knows about your connection with the flowers in the garden because she continues explaining in a tone that is awfully similar to Father when he was still instilling the ways of the clans in you when you were a child. “Aida-san told me that Mama’s family speaks to flowers. I know Onee-chan can speak to them, too, and just like me, they feel sad when Onee-chan is sad.”
“I do have a smart girl for a baby sister,” you muse, running your hand through her hair. “Yes, Mama could speak with any kind of plant you can think of and I know that your existence is something she asked for; she prayed every night for you to be here. You are her precious little dewdrop—I know it because the flowers told me so. Mama talked to them while she was carrying you in her tummy, you see.”
“Was she happy when she had me?”
The smile on your face never dims. “ Super happy,” you make sure to emphasise the first word.
“Were you happy?”
“The happiest big sister in the world.”
“I’m happy you’re my big sister, too!”
Your bottom lip wobbles, quickly hiding it by burying the toddler back into your arms. “You’re so cute, Tiny! Ah,” you sigh out, “I don’t ever want you to grow up; I want you to stay this little forever.” Your tiny dewdrop that you can carry in your arms forever, a place where she truly belongs and will remain untainted by the world revolving around you two.
“But I want to grow up!”
This surprises you. “Why, Tiny?”
She beams, “Because I get to be with you more! You’re always away with Papa and I’m all alone. If I’m grown up, I will be by your side more often.”
You give her a rueful smile. Your hand perfectly cups the side of her head as if both are puzzle pieces fitted with each other. “I can’t wait to see you in the future; but for now, I’ll cherish you like this. Because you want to know a little secret?” The smile on your face grows at the sparkles lighting up your baby sister’s eyes. They seem to gleam like jewels within a pool of moonlight. The hand cupping her face transfers to cover her ear, your voice dropping into a whisper purely for the two of you to hear—not even the flowers can be a witness to your little secret. “Nothing in this world truly belongs to me except my love for you, owner of my heart and my tiny dewdrop. You are the one gift Mother gave to me and I don’t know what I’d do if you slip from my fingers too soon. Let me love you as my baby sister and let Time pass by the way it always does. Alright?”
A sheen then covers your sister’s eyes as she stares at you in pure, adulterated emotions that a four-year-old like her can muster.
“I love you so much, Tiny—always remember that, okay?”
She meekly nods, your words flustering her cheeks in a faint surge of heat. “I love you, too, Onee-chan.”
It’s you two against the entire world. Despite how the circumstances bring you your sister, you will never love her any less. You may have familial burdens to carry on your poised shoulders, they don’t include the most precious treasure to you at the moment. 
The moment is shattered when the flowers slightly express their disappointment before you can sense the pattern of footsteps behind you.
“Ojou-sama, Lord Yoshiki is summoning you to his office,” Aida, a maid that you have grown quite fond of through the years, tells you, her head low like the head maid has taught her during her initiation—always show reverence to the members of the main family; they are your benefactor, your salvation, your puppeteers.
“Did he say why, Aida-san?” You pry from her, your arms still around the girl nestling on your lap.
The woman shakes her head. “No, Ojou-sama. But if it helps ease your mind, he is not in a troubled mood.” A knowing glint sparks her eyes as she trails them on the swaying vermillion blades dancing by her feet. 
“Very well,” is all you offer to her as a response. You turn to your baby sister, who is already pouting at the thought of spending the rest of her afternoon in solitude. “Tiny, I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” She is looking at you like she’s begging for you not to leave her alone and that alone nearly shatters your resolve. As the only child aware of the workings of the clan, you must attend to Father’s summons. Your sister will have this role in the future but for now, even with no shed of the Joushou’s cursed technique in your veins, you should do your duty. So, you carefully lift her from your lap before settling her feet on the grass. “I promise we’ll eat your favourites later.”
“And watch Sanrio?”
The smile on your face grows. Ah, your obsession with that cartoon and its characters; it’s purely the reason why your sister adores the white long-eared puppy as well. You, yourself have developed a liking toward the hooded bunny and the golden retriever characters. “And watch Sanrio,” you echo after her. 
“Yay!” She cheers, her hands high in the air and her smile bright enough to illuminate an abyss.
You let go of her small hands before turning around to face the maid sent to escort you to where Father is. “Take me to him, Aida.”
“As you wish, Ojou-sama.”
The walk is silent—you can even hear the grating of the wood against a sudden gust of wind, bringing the scent of cherry blossoms in the air.
Ah, it's spring without your mother again. 
You remember watching her work wonders in the gardens during this lucky season of the year. The pinks the entire world is waiting to sprout are sitting on top of Mother’s palms, the small spark of her cursed technique speaking with the roots and the trunks until all you can see are raining petals of cherry and plum blossoms. You never once looked forward to spring again after her passing. But there is an undeniable clench in your chest when you think about your baby sister never sharing the same enthusiasm about that season; she doesn’t get to press her face on the glass windows at her age every time spring knocks on your household’s door.
The scent of the flowers die down when the shoji doors to Father’s office slide open.
“You called for me, Father?”
The image of your father has long since dwindled. He was never the same again since the death of Mother. The elders have always expressed their bafflement at him refusing another proposal to be remarried. The clan needs male heirs, they say, one that can withstand even the next strongest sorcerer to be born. His previous impeccable appearance is replaced by a rugged man with the constant presence of stubbles and hastily tied hair. There are no elaborate kimonos; instead, he is often dressed in rather simple hakamas, but that doesn’t betray his station. He is still the head of the Joushou clan, the only clan to have ever survived the Domain Expansion of the recorded strongest sorcerer across centuries. 
Father doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “You are dismissed,” he directs the words to the maid who escorted you.
You flash Aida an imperceptible smile right after she bows her head as lowly as she can without toppling over. Her footsteps are silent and she leaves behind you and the man who will decide your fate.
“Who is it this time?” You still fix your eyes on the hardwood panels of the floor. 
The sigh that comes out of Father amounts to the weight he carries after reading the papers on his hand. He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he fishes out an unsealed piece of paper from a nearby stack and throws it on the table.
You walk to the edge of his desk to catch a glimpse of the sender. Something pulses inside you at the implications the letter’s seal brings. You know it’s inevitable to be tied to this family and you have long accepted it but that doesn’t prevent the trepidation clogging your throat. “The Zen’in?”
After you make it real by uttering the syllables of their name, Father pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows scrunched in an uneasy exhibition of pain. “I’m sure you remember that Zen’in Ougi’s wife died a few months before.” Your silence is an enough answer for Father to continue. The memory of attending the funeral is still fresh in your mind and there’s no mistaking the reeking disappointment coming from the clan elders of the Zen’in. Another wife gone; another chance for a holder of the Ten Shadows lost. “They want you as his second wife.” His fists clench on top of the papers.
You’re quiet for a moment. “Can I read it, Father?”
Father waves his hand.
The sound of crinkling paper fills the room. You flip the folded flaps of the letter. The tidy calligraphy starts by addressing your father. Your eyes skim over saccharine words crafted to impress him.
The letter opens with the head of the Zen’in clan iterating that this is the perfect opportunity for the Joushou clan to enter the inner circles of the jujutsu society.
It goes on by saying that if the Gojos never had that pesky godling born in the same year as your little sister, your clan would have made it within the triad of jujutsu families, even rivalling the authority established by the Kamos. Pity that the Gojo clan beat your family by a hairbreadth and pity that the inheritor of the Purification Technique is of the lowly sex. You take a glance at Father, knowing that this section of the letter is the reason behind the tick in his jaw. You continue on reading how the children from this union would be the leaders of the next generation of jujutsu. With the Glorified Womb and a carrier of the Ten Shadows Technique, it is bound to be fruitful—the most awaited heir of the Zen’in clan won’t just be a figment of someone’s imagination.
We hope this is met with utmost consideration. After all, this is the pinnacle we are both waiting for. Wed your bloomed flower to my youngest son and all will be well—you will be compensated handsomely. Everything you could think of, we will provide as long as they belong to our capabilities. Do not make the wrong decision, Joushou. The fate of your clan rests on your word. 
“This is not in my position to ask but,” you start, lifting your head from trailing your eyes over every well-crafted, harsh word the Zen’in sent, “Father, tell me you’re not going to consider this?” He doesn’t offer a response. He simply stares at a spot on his desk, his hands woven over his mouth. You hear your heartbeat in your ears as you place the letter on the furniture separating you from him. “Father.” The man goes on to blankly stare at you. At the silence, your voice gains volume. “He’s the same age as Uncle Hatsugu!” He stands up from his seat, lifting his chin in the air while you feel tears peeking through your bottom eyelids. At the stony facade he dons, you slowly shake your head. “Father, no. No, no, no!”
Father merely blinks. The previous tension weighing on his shoulders vanishes and in front you is the man who thought it was best to force your mother to bear the son he wanted. “[Name].”
“Please tell me you haven’t—”
“It’s the Zen’in.”
“But that doesn’t mean—!”
“You will have four years.”
Standing in this room with him becomes suffocating with each passing second. Marrying young has always been the culture in your hidden world. Women are a commodity. You hope that because Father was kind enough to tell you of each suitor sending their letters, he will also be kind enough to reject them until you have fully lived your life. “Please,” one word is all you can say. And if that isn’t enough for Father, you try to convince him with your eyes. Yet the more you look at him, all ready to kneel and plead to give back your girlhood, you gradually understand that you have no choice. Father looks like he’s seen a ghost within you. The shock morphs into rage, then, later calms into a quiet nothing that rings so loud your tears cascade on your cheeks. “I-I don’t want this, Father. The Zen’ins—”
“Are a respectful family that is worth leagues more than ours,” he finishes. “They stand as what orthodox should be in our world. This,” he taps his forefinger on the letter, “is just the beginning, [Name]. We are nearing the pinnacle of jujutsu in this generation and it starts with your marriage to this man.” You open your mouth to retaliate. He cuts you off from speaking with a hand. “You are someone born in my family. Do your duty just like any other woman before you.”
“Just listen to me—”
“Am I clear, [Name]?” Father fixes a wide-eyed glare at you. “You didn’t inherit your mother’s viability for heirmaking for nothing. This is your purpose. Whatever fantasies you have running in that head of yours, cease it. Do you understand?” 
You don’t answer him.
“[Name].”
Flinching at the way he says your name, you look down at your feet.
“Do not make me angry; we both know that it won’t end in your favour.”
You swallow a lump in your throat. “I understand, Father.”
“Good.” Then, he waves you away. “Go. I have a letter to reply to.”
You don’t know where your feet take you. After the shoji doors slide shut behind you, you are floating. You see and hear nothing. When you lift your head from mindlessly tracing the ground you walk on, you are outside in the gardens, the little girl you left behind earlier still in the same place. She turns around at the sound of your footsteps but you don’t give her a chance to call you because you pull her into your arms. You can feel her pressing her cheeks against yours and it hurts. You bury your face in her hair, your embrace fully encompassing her from the world. The air smells of hellebore and amidst the lake of white and purple, a clump of begonia stands as a beacon.
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Toji spits out blood on the blades of grass surrounding the Zen’in estate. Imposing eyes follow him from the visible hallways of the traditional Japanese household. He can already assume what they are whispering about— the black sheep of the family is at it again, disappearing in random hours of the day and coming back all bloody like he wants to taint our sacred home . Toji clicks his tongue at the thought and by doing so, irritating his split gums, which irritates him even more. He couldn’t care less. Let them talk, let them paint him into their version of a devil, let them say that he’s the curse of the family; to Hell with all of them.
He keeps on walking until he reaches the nearest entrance to his father’s wing, where his side of the family resides. The maids scurry away from his path and the only sound accompanying him to his destination is the jingle of charms dangling from his wallet. It’s jarring, how stark the various shades of pink and blue are against his dark garb. If he is one of the nosier women in the estate, he would have questioned it as well. The carved flowers make a nice melody with each step and they all sing something that’s purely her . Because that’s the reason why the hanging charms are in his pocket—they’re all for her , the precious doll of the Joushou clan and the belle of everyone’s ball, including his. Even as he let himself loose by facing a dozen curses in an abandoned hospital, he still managed to think of something so soft, a feat in itself that he never thought possible for someone like him.
It’s a miracle that nothing intercepted him. Usually, during his excursions, Jinichi would make himself known and throw remarks that would have the two of them grappling for the first punch. This time around, none of the notable people in his family lurks around the corner, waiting for their moment to strike. It’s peaceful for once and Toji doesn’t know how it makes him feel.
“You.”
A maid squeaks when Toji’s gaze falls on her.
“Where are the others?”
Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She can’t fully look him in the eye.
“I’m fucking talking to you,” comes from Toji’s mouth.
With a hitched breath, the maid answers, “They’re all gathering in the Master's office.”
“The old man is dying; what are they gathering there for?”
The maid grips the edges of her cheap uniform, creating creases that would surely earn her some nagging from the matron of housekeeping. Locking eyes with him is a mistake because she starts sweating even though this part of the estate hasn’t met any heaters in the last few months. Perks of being the most favourite disappointments. Toji carefully wraps his hand around the kanzashi nestled inside his pocket, the ornaments it carries caressing his skin. This is taking too long. Then, the maid stutters, “I-I heard they received a message regarding a marriage proposal.”
“Who?”
“I-I don’t know, Sir.”
Toji lets out a mirthless laugh. “It’s bitchy Ogi, isn’t it? Should’ve known.”
The maid keeps quiet with her head down. Without addressing her any further, Toji walks past her and makes his way to the main wing of the estate. 
Despite saying that he doesn’t care for the inner workings of their clan, he can’t help but feel amusement for another failed marriage to surface. After his newest aunt’s funeral, all anticipation and hope for the clan’s future has been sucked dry. Pity that these women are sent to this wretched family, hoping to at least be treated as royalty. All they got is the constant spiel that they are far beneath their husbands even though they share a last name through marriage. Toji’s mother was one of those women. And Heaven forbid, another tombstone will be added to the clan’s guarded cemetery with this letter.
With silent footsteps, Toji leaned on the wall next to the sliding doors of his grandfather’s office with his arms crossed on his chest.
“—Can’t tell me this is fucking fair!”
His father.
“You have not proven yourself worthy for this, Ichiro.”
The wheezing gives it away.
Booming laughter erupts from behind the closed doors, followed by a guzzling of a drink. “If only your wife died before giving birth to two failures, one of which is standing with us in this room also vying for this girl’s hand in marriage. Would you look at that, you two are almost twins sneering at me like that!” Another round of cackles from his alcoholic uncle. “You would have a chance with this girl who’s even younger than your sons! Ha! Just saying that makes me want to puke—”
“Not in here, Naobito,” a warning from Grandfather.
“—the contents of my stomach.
“Like Ogi is any better.”
“Do not bring me in your squabble,” says a calm, grating voice.
“I still believe this is something you have planned to dethrone me from my chance of being the heir. Are you that threatened by my son’s manifestation of cursed energy?”
Ogi scoffs. Toji imagines him lifting his chin in the air—the arrogant bastard. “It’s not my fault you are hindered by the existence of your precious child. Or do you regret ever siring him for a chance at a young girl? I’d say you are a hypocrite, brother.”
“Say that to my face, you little piece of shit!”
“Father, why not Jinichi?” Toji’s father tries pulling the tides in their favour. “They are close in age. My son developed a technique uniquely his, a promising one that would shake the other clans if he would inherit the position of heir. Why not give him this girl as a chance to redeem our bloodline? The future user of the Ten Shadows Technique will surely emerge from their coupling.”
“It is true that our family has established a hierarchy unlike the others,” the senile man coughs out, “but I would never waste something worth more than diamonds on your dying bloodline.” Toji can hear his father raising his voice while his older uncle cackles in glee. If only he’s not carrying treasure in the depths of his pockets, he would have bled through his pants with how tight he’d be clenching his hands. “Compared to Ogi, your son’s technique is nothing. My son has gained a reputation from the higher-ups of our world, a feat your son could only dream of. What Ogi can do will only be the catalyst in a fruitful union.” There is a pause. “And there is the case of your other child. What’s to say Jinichi is tainted by his younger brother? Don’t even make me begin on how that abomination always succeeds in being the family’s blunder. I have presented the letter for her hand in marriage with Ogi in mind and no one else. Do not make me exert my power over you, Ichiro, because you are nothing but a failure to me.”
“Father, you surely know how to knock down someone,” Naobito says in mirth.
Toji is still against the wall of the old man’s office. His hands are itching on pummeling something to the ground. Fucking elders and their ridiculous degrading words—they make him want to wring their necks and feed them to the curses they keep in the basement. Toji wants nothing more than to witness the light dim and eventually flicker out from this senile man’s eyes. Heat starts travelling all the way to the tips of his ears. Hearing everything urges his body to retreat in his room and wallow in self-pity. But anger gets the best of him, always. This fucking family and their superiority will be the death of them; he is already cursing them. They would ask for Heaven for what he is doing to them in his head. Then again, Hell would probably be Heaven for them for all the grotesque things they do behind closed doors. 
“Then, it’s final. Ogi will wed Joushou [Name] the moment she turns eighteen. This is the pinnacle of jujutsu and I expect nothing but congratulations from you pitiful fools.”
That is the moment Toji realised, he would take down the pinnacle of the jujutsu world.
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Notes:
in the victorian language of flowers, hellebore can mean 'we can overcome scandal and slander'. when paired with begonias in a bouquet, it brings a reminder that future challenges will arise.
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Text
Vampire- J. Guilbert (prologue)
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pairing: Princess!reader x Vampire!Johnnie
classification: SMUT, fluff, slight angst, vampire AU
inspiration: request1, request2, Vampire by Johnnie Guilbert
warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex; mentions of mortality, biting, blood, parental death, death, killing; set in 14th-17th century Renaissance, pretty modern dialogue tbh, sub!Johnnie (kinda?), use of Y/n
summary: You take your relationship with Johnnie, your vampire lover, one step further.
Vampire PT.1
Autumn leaves crunch against your shoes as you walk through the castle garden. Beautiful red and white roses line the outer walls, each one beginning to die due to the cold temperature the season has brought.
You take a fleeting look behind you, footsteps quickening as you follow the row of roses to the garden’s outer gate. If anyone were to see or follow you, you’d have to save your escape for another day.
Luckily, no one is watching. The guards are too busy patrolling the front of the castle, your father is in a neighboring village, Bernadette is completing her chores, and your mother is deeply immersed in literature in the castle library.
Your hand pushes against the big, rusty gate. You hold your breath and wince when the metal creaks, examining your surroundings one last time before slipping through the crack.
The ground is soft, dead leaves and fog hiding your feet as they trudge through the mud.
“Johnnie?” you whisper shout, your delicate hand supporting itself against a tree. No response, just a howling gush of wind.
You decide to hike further, knowing that Johnnie hates meeting you close to the castle. After walking for some minutes, you find yourself in a clearing.
Moonlight shines through the gaps between the branches and the meadow’s bioluminescent moss glows with every footstep.
“Johnnie?” you try again, only raising your volume slightly.
You wait for a response, or to see his figure approach from within the forest, but all you hear is a coyote crying in the distance.
Every 3 days you venture out into the forest. Sometimes he shows, sometimes he doesn’t; it’s something that he’s explained to you time and time again. He’s a vampire, viewed as a predator by the rest of the world, and when he has villagers coming after him it just isn’t safe to meet you.
He’d never forgive himself if anything ever happened to you, and you know that, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
You’re about to give up and walk back home, when cold fingers swoop your long hair to one side. Johnnie’s lips find your skin, trailing kisses from your shoulder to the soft spot behind your ear
“I’m here, Princess,” he murmurs.
A smile forms on your face as your head falls back onto his shoulder. His arms have wrapped around your waist, holding you in place firmly as he continues feathering kisses all over your exposed skin.
“I’ve missed you, my love,” his breath fans against you, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve missed you more,” you reply, and it’s true.
You turn to face him, warm hands delicately landing on his face. He’s so beyond beautiful, especially under the soft moonlight.
Your eyes dance over his face, watching as his fangs twinkle when he smiles. Most women would be running away in fear at the sight, but it only makes your knees buckle.
“3 days is too long.” His voice is still quiet, almost like he’s afraid someone is lurking nearby, ready to save you from a monster like him.
“You could just come visit me in the castle after everyone’s fallen asleep,” you suggest. His face was slowly inching towards yours, but he stops in his tracks at your comment.
“Y/n,” he warns, using your actual name instead of a pet name.
“We’ve been over this.”
“I know— it’s just— I miss you.” The last part sounds more defeated than you’d like.
“It’s not like we have forever, you know,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around your waist for some comfort. He knows that your time together is limited, and he hates that you’re constantly reminding him.
“Don’t start this again. Please,” he pleads. You only have a few hours together before the sun rises and he’s forced back into hiding, he doesn’t want to spend those fleeting moments arguing.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking slightly at the end. You’re close to breaking down into tears and he knows it.
“Y/n.” He pulls your gaze to his by your chin. Your eyes are glossy, a heartbreaking sight.
“I promise it won’t always be like this,” he says, not breaking eye contact. You’re not sure you believe him, mainly because of the ticking time bomb that is your mortality, but you want to believe him.
“Promise?” Your eyes hold so much hope.
“Promise.” He pulls your face in, finally kissing you after what seems like forever.
It’s slow and passionate, your lips moulding together at a steady rhythm. His hand holds a firm grip of your face, the other resting on your hip and pulling you closer to him.
You’re wearing a simple dress that contrasts your usual, elaborate gowns. So, as he pulls you in, you feel his erection pokes your lower abdomen. Subconsciously, his hips grind against you and a strained sound escapes his throat. He pulls away from the kiss, forehead flush against yours.
“What’s wrong?” you asks. His hand still holds your face and yours travels up to hold it, caressing his skin with your thumb.
“I should just— you should just go home,” he says, attempting to pull away from you completely, but you manage to keep him there. It’s surprising how someone so strong can be so weak when they’re in love.
“What? Why? We still have a couple hours left before the sun rises.”
“Because it’s dangerous out here. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
You roll your eyes. “No one is out here, Johnnie.”
He’s quiet. His mind his racing as he fights against his sinful thoughts. What he wants is to make love to you under the soft moonlight, but he’s worried that once he gets a taste of you, he won’t be able to control himself.
“Tell me what’s really wrong,” you say, pulling his hand off of your face to place gentle kisses on his knuckles.
“I’m just… I’m scared,” he admits. It’s an embarrassing confession coming from him, someone who doesn’t have to worry about anything other than what his next meal is gonna be.
You urge him to continue with your eyes.
“You do things to me that I can’t explain. I feel things that I’m not sure I can control when I’m around you.” Confusion is written all over your face.
“Here.” He guides your hand down to his erection, letting it cup his member over the fabric of his pants. “That’s what you do to me,” he gulps, struggling to hold himself back.
The feeling of your small hand wrapped around him is already excruciating enough, and the images that his imagination creates don’t help either.
“Johnnie,” you begin, already sounding breathless. A wetness grows between your thighs, and they subconsciously press together to relieve some tension.
“You’re not going to hurt me.” He appreciates the reassurance, but he’s still uncertain.
“I don’t want to risk it,” he replies through gritted teeth. His eyes clench shut when you begin massaging him, dick twitching and begging for release.
“Let me make you feel good. We can stop if it becomes too much,” you whisper, inching your face closer to his until your breath fans against his lips.
Your lips are ghosting his, barely grazing as he replies, “What if I can’t control myself? What if I hurt you?”
“You won’t. I know you won’t.”
Finally you close the gap between you two, opening your mouth to give him the access he’s been craving. It’s a sloppy, needy kiss fueled with passion and hunger. Your tongues battle for dominance, each lap mixed with moans and whimpers.
There’s a large tree stump in the middle of the clearing and you slowly guide Johnnie towards it by his hips. He walks backwards until his calves hit the bark, knees bending, causing him to sit.
His arms wrap around your waist, holding you like you’re his most prized possession as he stares up at you in awe. “I’m in control, okay?” you say, kissing him again before allowing your dress to fall past your shoulders and onto the ground.
Immediately, he tenses, feeling his animal instincts overcome him. The hunger is painful, so painful that his grip around you tightens. You’re not wearing a bra or panties, a beautiful sight that causes his pupils to dilate.
“Hey, look at me,” you say gently. “You’re not going to hurt me.”
Johnnie nods his head, allowing his eyes to dance over your body. You’re so beautiful; your round breasts bouncing slightly with your every movement and your curvy hips swaying as you position yourself between his thighs.
He can’t take it anymore, he needs to taste you. You gasp as Johnnie suddenly takes your left nipple in his mouth, gently sucking and licking on your sensitive nub.
“I really, really need you,” he rasps against your skin. “I know baby. I know,” you reply through a strained moan. Your hand finds his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.
His lips travel from your nipple to the valley of your breasts, kissing licking his way down to your belly button. “You’re so beautiful.”
You’re about to reply but his mouth feverishly makes its way back to yours before you can, engulfing your lips in a steamy makeout session that has you whimpering. You can feel him trying to take control, and if you want this night to go well, that can’t happen.
So, you make work of his pants and underwear in between kisses, tugging at the fabric until it pools on the ground around his ankles. His penis springs free, slapping against his stomach.
“Remember who’s in control,” you remind him through the kiss.
He takes a deep breath, resting his forehead against your chest as he attempts to compose himself; to measure his strength as you two venture into uncharted territory.
You play with his hair, giving him the time he needs before pushing him back onto the tree stump until he’s laying on his back. Slowly, you crawl over him until you’re straddling his lap.
You lean down to his ear, placing a few open mouth kisses on the nape of his neck as you whisper, “We’re gonna take this slow, okay?”
“I—” he begins, cutting himself off.
“We can stop if you want to.”
“I don’t want to stop,” he says, “and that’s the problem because…”
“Because if I were to hurt you, Y/n, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself. I’m struggling to keep my composure and we haven’t even done anything yet. If I get too carried away, pull me back into reality with you. Please,” he pleads the last part, tentative hands coming to rest on your hips. His touch is gentle, but firm.
You don’t respond, instead you nod your head and take his cock into your hands, dragging it up and down your slick folds before lining it with your entrance. His grip on your waist tightens as you begin to sink down on him, he clenches his jaw and watches tentatively as you take him without complaint.
A small moan escapes your lips at the stretch, your hands falling onto his chest for support. His skin is ice cold, a sensation that you quickly welcome. Johnnie fights to keep his composure, teeth digging so far into his lip that he’s drawing blood.
“Ready?” you ask sweetly. Johnnie responds by bucking his hips upwards, ensuring not to get too lost in the feeling.
He’s amazed that someone as delicate as you can hold this much power over him. He’s putty in your hands, he can’t remember the last time he felt this submissive.
You take the hint and begin moving up and down on his cock, bracing yourself with hands on his chest and knees on either side of his hips.
Johnnie’s grip on your waist is getting impossibly tighter, and if you weren’t so immersed in the pleasure, you might’ve registered the pain.
Your boobs bounce with your every movement, placing Johnnie in a lust filled trance. Your hair falls over one of your shoulders, swaying back and forth under the soft moonlight.
“Sit up please,” you command, your voice strained. Johnnie does as he’s told, and immediately you guide his face towards your breast. He’s hesitant at first, but the look you give him is enough to convince him that he can keep himself from taking a delicious bite from you.
His lips wrap around your left nipple as you continue bouncing up and down on his member. He’s completely lost in the euphoric feeling of you wrapped around him, a strong arm tightening around your figure.
“Johnnie,” you moan, your voice bringing him back to reality. He loosens his grip and brings you in for a kiss, drunkenly moulding his mouth against yours as you continue whimpering into his mouth.
His tongue swipes your bottom lip, begging for entrance so he can taste you. One of your moans serves as the perfect opportunity for him to slip his tongue in your mouth, drenching you like his existence depended on it.
Your tongue grazes one of his fangs, cutting you just enough for him to taste your blood. You feel the prick, but continue bouncing on his cock without paying too much attention.
“You’re doing so good, just like I knew you would,” you speak into the kiss. He loves the praise, especially because he just tasted your blood for the first time and can easily say he’s already addicted to
The position you were currently in was amazing, but your knees were starting to hurt and you really wanted to see what he’d look like from on top of you.
You hop off of him, earning a wince from him from the lack of contact. You lay back on the tree stump, innertwining your hand in his as you guide him over you. He follows your lead, immediately returning to the heated makeout session from before.
Slowly, he positions himself between your legs and lines himself up with your entrance. “Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly. This position gives him all the power, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself even if you try pulling him back to reality.
But you’re not scared of him, you never have been and you never could be. “Yes, my love. I’m sure.”
He looks beautiful on top of you, everything about his dark aura luring you in. Johnnie slowly sinks himself into you, one of his hands gripping the edge of the tree stump. The bark is rough against his fingers as he applies a pressure so powerful that it cracks the aged wood.
His thrusts are slow at first as he tries setting a manageable pace, but as he continues his eyes cloud with lust and desire and he begins pounding into you. The sound of your skin slapping together and your moans echo through the forest, his tip kissing your cervix every time.
His forehead is flush against yours. Johnnie loves you so much and it’s evident in the way his red eyes never break eye contact, despite the intensity of his movements.
He’s fighting against his strength to stop himself from breaking you in half, because if he really wanted to he could.
You keep bucking your hips into his as you chase your pending orgasm. Johnnie’s head falls onto your shoulder, grunts and groans fanning against your neck as his other hand pushes your hips down.
Your skin was sure to bruise, but none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was the feeling of his pelvis rubbing against your clit, bringing you dangerously close to your climax.
“I’m close!” you squeak.
Johnnie continues to snap his hips into you, fangs grazing your skin ever so slightly. He wants to do it; to take a bite of you, but he’s willing himself not to.
You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him in until all he can do is roll his hips against you. Your pussy flutters around his cock as your orgasm washes over you.
The feeling of your spongy, warm walls clenching around him is enough to send him over the edge. His unmatched strength breaks yet another piece of the tree. He needed to occupy his mouth, so he’s latching onto your neck and sucking until the skin is bruised.
“I love you,” he murmurs through his orgasm, repeating the sentence so many times that it’s engraved in your mind.
Your voice is choppy as you try catching your breath, “I love you too.”
The next morning you wake up on a comfortable mattress surrounded by expensive pillows and a billowy comforter, but you wish you were still in the forest with Johnnie.
The night replays in your mind as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. A yawn escapes your lips as you stretch.
Suddenly you feel a throbbing pain on your waist. Your fingers trail down to the sensitive skin and you wince once they make contact.
Slowly, you throw the comforter to the side and walk over to your vanity. You bunch the fabric of your nightgown up against your breasts as you examine yourself in the mirror.
Your skin was lined with bruises so purple they were almost black. Quickly, you adjust your dress and make a mental note not to let Johnnie see them. You wouldn’t see him for another three days anyways, that was enough time for you to heal, right? Wrong.
Three days have passed and your bruises have only become more sensitive. They’re easy to hide when you’re home, mostly because you wear dresses so big that no one would ever notice them. The hickeys on your neck were masked with makeup and hidden behind your long hair.
You decide to stay home, because you know that Johnnie will somehow find out about the secret you hide under your clothes.
Just as you’re getting ready for bed, a sudden gush of wind blows past you. Johnnie enters through your bedroom window, looking around your room in a panicked frenzy until his eyes land on your figure.
“Johnnie?” you question in surprise. “Thank God you’re okay,” he sighs in relief, immediately walking over to you.
“You didn’t come to visit me,” he whispers sadly, “Why?”
When he waited in the clearing, and you never appeared, his mind raced with every and any possibly. Did someone hurt you? Was your kingdom under attack? Did you regret that night?
“I’ve just been really tired,” you say. It’s a lame excuse, but you hope he believes it.
“Did I do something wrong?” Johnnie’s hands land on your hips. You immediately wince, but try masking it with a cough. It’s no use though, he notices right away.
Johnnie bawls the fabric of your nightgown in his hands, ready to expose whatever you’re hiding. “Wait! No, Johnnie—” you try pushing him away, buts he’s so strong that he barely moves.
He wastes no time in lifting your nightgown, revealing the bruises that he left on your skin just three nights ago.
“I promise they’re worse than they look,” you try and reason, but he’s not hearing any of it. His jaw is clenched, eyes trained on the horrific colors that blend across your skin.
“Never again,” he grits, letting the fabric of your dress fall back down. It felt like a shameful curtain, you wanted to rip it off and crawl into bed.
“What?!” your voice cracks.
“You heard me. Never again. If that’s what I did with my hands, imagine what would’ve happened if I lost control.”
“But I can take it—”
“Yeah? You think you’ll be saying that when my fangs inevitably find their way to your neck?” he snaps, his tone so harsh that it slaps against your ears.
“So then turn me,” you reply. Everything always seemed so simple to you, but becoming a vampire wasn’t something he ever wanted you to experience.
“Don’t,” he warns.
“Why not, Johnnie? Huh? Why not? Are we just going to continue having this same conversation until the day I die? Do you think I asked for the bruises? All I wanted was to love you, but if I’m going to continue getting hurt then why not just turn me?”
He remains silent, watching as the tears brim your eyes.
“I can’t live in a world where I don’t get to love you, to properly love you,” your voice is hushed, tears streaming down your face as you sit on the edge of your bed. “It isn’t fair.”
“I’m a monster, Y/n. All I do is hurt everything and everyone I love. Trust me, you don’t want to love someone like me,” he spits. His words completely contradict what he truly feels.
“I didn’t ask to love you, Johnnie. I just... do.” You sound so defeated.
He sighs, kneeling front of you and trying to catch your gaze. “I love you too, Y/n. That’s why this hurts me so much. I don’t want to be the reason for your pain, even if it is accidental. I want to protect you so that I can love you for as long as possible. Do you understand that?”
“Then love me,” you plead, “What’s the point of protecting me if you’re not staying true to your promise? We’re running out of time, Johnnie. Everyday I wake up a little older and a little closer to death, so please just love me. Love me despite our differences. Love me even if you think I’m weak.”
You bring him in for a kiss, one that is so passionate that he can’t find it in himself to pull away. You lean back onto the bed, pulling him with you until he’s laying on top of you.
“Princess, please.”
“Just love me.” You murmur against his lips, and just like that he’s making love to you under the soft candlelight that illuminates your room.
From that moment forward, Johnnie has vowed to love you everyday like it’s your last.
MASTERLIST
A/n: thanks for being patient with me guys, ily! Also I hope you enjoy this anon (requests are linked) I haven’t proofread this so be gentle with me guys 🥹 I’ll proofread it mañana
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
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axolotlclown · 2 months
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I suppose I'm a little late to the party, but I needed time to collect my thoughts.
Here's the thing, everyone's caught up on Caiti's age and whether she consented. To me, that isn't anywhere near the point. Her being so young is certainly creepy and strange, but not the point.
Here's the first thing, though less important than the next. As an adult, it is blaringly clear how irresponsible these "adults" were. Two grown ass men supplying alcohol to underaged girls in a hotel room. They were up drinking until 6am. They were one noise complaint away from getting the cops called.
Second thing. While underage drinking in the US is fairly normal, 18 is still pretty young here. Also, publicly admitting to supplying alcohol to an 18 year old is crazy, but not the point.
18 year olds can't compete with grown adults when it comes to alcohol. They don't have the same tolerance. There never should have been any "one upping."
No one should have gotten that drunk. The fact that there was a girl leaving, vomiting in her hand is fucking ridiculous. When someone, regardless of their age, is drinking too much too quickly, you cut them off and give them water. This is how college parties are run. Once you start wobbling a little too much, your speech is slurred, and you stop being a person, someone gives you water and walks you home.
And nobody walked her back to her hotel room?? Two grown men. I don't give a shit how tired you are. You always walk a girl home. Who the fuck raised you??
I am an adult man in college. I have been around a lot of different men. I have hung around men that behave like this. Let me promise you this: they got those girls drunk like that on purpose. They both wanted something. When they didn't get it, they just let the girls go. They were never interested in their safety. They were never interested in who they were.
And let me promise you this: there's never just one girl. And any well brought up man would have cut them all off and sent them on their way. There is way more to this situation than lets on.
And of course George never asked for her consent. It was never a question. They brought those girls back to that hotel room with the thought that they'd get something out of it. To George, he heard 18 and thought, "oh cool, she's legal."
I see this happen all the time in college. Usually men don't grow out of all of it, but they usually grow out of begging like a shitty dog in some random girl's DMs. To hear a grown ass man, 26 years old, behave like a fucking 19 year old sophmore in college is pathetic. I'm not interested in giving pathetic men any more time.
Also, love and light to Caiti, she looks like she's 16. "I didn't know she was 18!" First off, doesn't matter. Second off, I would've guessed she was a minor, so I know you checked first. Or else you're even dumber than the fucking college kids. Damn.
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ickadori · 5 months
Text
++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
[summary] during a playful fight between you and yuji, sukuna decides to make an appearance and air out yuji’s dirty secrets.
[cws] fem reader. dubcon. lewd use of sukuna’s tummy mouth. exhibitionism -> you’re in public but no one is around. one mention of a misogynist comment from sukuna. yuji thinks about you a lot. unedited.
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“Do you …hah, do you give up yet?” Yuji pants as he has you pinned underneath him, sweat dripping off the ends of his hair and landing on your forehead.
You’d cringe and shrink away if you weren’t so determined to win this mock fight (never mind that you were drenched in your own sweat, as well).
“Absolutely not.” You grit out, hips futilely bucking up to try and get him off you. He barely budges, even having the nerve to laugh as he watches you struggle. You can hear Nobara booing quite enthusiastically, while Megumi grumbles about being late for class and having to hear ‘Gojo’s annoying mouth’.
“Ya know you’re not gonna win, so just give up already and agree to hosting movie night in my dorm this time!”
“Never! No one wants to stare at pin-up posters all night, plus your tv is too small, and your bed always smells like Doritos, and—”
“Geez, just say you hate me, why don’t you.” He rolls his eyes, going to sit back on his haunches as he stays straddling your waist. You kiss at your teeth, trying once more to buck him up while simultaneously bringing your hands up and shoving at his stomach. “And my bed does not smell like Doritos! Does it?” He snaps his head over to look at Nobara and Megumi.
“The cool ranch ones.” Nobara says, and Megumi nods in agreement. “Aka, the nastiest flavor.” Yuji gasps dramatically.
“That’s the best flavor! How dare you…” As he bickers back and forth with Nobara, you focus a little cursed energy into your hands. “…says the girl who eats pickles with whipped cream like she’s pregnant or someth—!”
In the blink of an eye you’ve got Yuji on his back as you straddle his stomach, a triumphant grin on your face as you keep your hands on his shoulders to keep him pinned flat against the ground. “Aha!”
“That’s cheating!” Yuji frowns up at you.
“No, it isn’t! It’s called strategizing.”
“Cheating!”
“I’m going to class.” Megumi begins to walk off, hands stuffed in his pockets, and you shout after him.
“Movie night is in my dorm!”
“Hey!” Yuji interrupts.
“Bring good snacks only!” You finish, and then Nobara is the next to go, jogging to catch up with Megumi as she flashes the both of you an amused grin.
“Cheater.” Yuji grumbles once it’s just you two, and you snicker as you let go of his shoulders and sit up, not bothering to stand up just yet. “Using cursed energy against your friend… you should be ashamed.”
“You literally threw a spear at me yesterday and it almost killed me.”
“That’s different! We were training, and I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” His expression turned sheepish as he avoided your eyes, and you pursed your lips as you tapped his nose with the pad of your index finger. He wriggled it in response, and you softly laughed as you did it again.
“It’s fine, just know that you had it coming when I try to kill you in the future, mkay?” He blinks up at you.
“You’re creepy, you know that?”
“Says the boy with a third eyeball on his cheek.” This time you do cringe, watching as the red eye blinks open before settling on you.
“Wha—Sukuna!” Yuji snaps, hand moving to slap over the eye and cover it. “You should probably go now before he fully wakes up … you know how he is.” A pink hue bleeds into Yuji’s cheeks as he averts his eyes, and you feel your own face warm as you nod.
“Yeah,” you agree. Sukuna had always been insufferable from the moment you befriended Yuji, always piping up with mean, critiquing comments that bordered on being cruel. The comments had started with him bashing your fighting skills during your trainings with Yuji, quips of ‘you’re so slow - it’s a wonder you aren’t dead yet’, or ‘women on the battlefield is a bad fucking joke - hasn’t anyone ever taught you your place’, or ones that had left you teary-eyed and which you refuse to repeat.
Yeah, Sukuna was an asshole, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone, and you’d rather not have your day ruined before you even made it to your first class.
“I’ll see you tonight, Yuji.” You place your hands on his chest, about to use him to push yourself up to your feet, but a low, raspy voice has you stopping in your tracks.
“You’re sitting on my mouth.” Sukuna abruptly says, and you blink in confusion, your eyes flitting between Yuji’s and where you’re sitting.
“What?”
“Y-You should go now,” Yuji tries, but Sukuna is talking again and drowning him out.
“Your pussy, that hot thing between your legs, it’s on my mouth. See?” Something moves underneath you, and you flinch at the sound of fabric tearing before a yelp is leaving your mouth when something thick, damp and warm is pushing up between your legs and pressing against your clothed cunt. “You should be careful where you put that thing, y’know.”
He talks through the mouth on Yuji’s hand, and your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as Sukuna swipes his tongue against you again, his saliva wetting the fabric of your underwear.
“Sukuna, st—”
“Sit back and shut up.” Yuji falls silent in an instant, and a wave of panic washes over you when you see his eyes gloss over and his head fall back against the grass, black markings etching their way onto his face. A grin stretches across his face, and hands move to lock around your hips, fingers pushing into your flesh as he makes sure you can’t go anywhere. “That’s better.”
“Y-Yuji?” You sound breathless, and you gasp when his tongue worms its way past your panties to swipe in-between your folds. “Yuji!”
“Relax,” he rolls his eyes, “the brat is still here. Watching and listening, he’s not gonna miss a thing, don’t you worry.” You don’t know if that’s worse or better—Yuji being aware of what’s happening, being able to see your face contort each time that tongue flicks at your clit, being able to hear the noises you try and fail to subdue.
“Stop,” your voice sounds weak to your own ears, and Sukuna guffaws, tongue forcing its way up into your cunt, the action eliciting a lewd squelch as he rubs against your walls.
“Stop.” He parrots back at you, hands tightening around your hips, and you duck your head down when his tongue leaves your hole to instead focus its attention back on your clit. “I don’t know what the brat gets all worked up about—yeah, you’ve got a sweet pussy and a nice pair of tits, but you’re a real fuckin’ tease. Rolling around with a boy in that flimsy little skirt and grinding your cunt up against him. Tch.”
“I wasn—Sukuna!” You jump when his teeth graze against your folds, the thought of him possibly biting you making a shiver of fear run up your spine.
“He wants to fuck you.” He couples the reveal with a harsh suck. “Fuck this cunt that I’m tonguing down - the pervert can’t go five minutes in a room with you without thinking about it.” Your ears burn as a fresh wave of slick rushes out of you, thighs trembling where they rest around his thick waist. “He’s too worried about scaring you off to do anything about it, though… but I don’t think he has anything to worry about, does he? Look at you.”
A whimper leaves your mouth, and you quickly sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not succeeding in blocking out the slurping, tacky sounds coming from between your legs. You want to stand up, get his mouth away from you so you can think straight, because your mind is all jumbled and fuzzy and screwy, and his words, his crude words that always made your skin hot and your stomach churn, is making it churn for another reason now.
“Won’t you give him a show, hm?” You barely register his words, and you yelp when his hand makes contact with your ass, fingers kneading at the doughy flesh as he repeats his earlier words. “Take your tits out.”
“No,” you warble, your hands weakly pushing at his wrists, a poor attempt to get him to stop moving your hips back and forth, forcing your cunt to side back and forth over his flattened tongue. “Sukuna, please.”
“Take ‘em out yourself, or I’ll do it for you and leave you to walk back to your dorm with nothing on.” You hesitate, eyes wet as you nervously lick at your lips, and when he makes a move for your shirt, you quickly begin to undo the buttons, fingers clumsy as they fumble repeatedly. “Good pet.”
Your blouse falls open as you undo the last button, revealing the pink bra you have on underneath, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you pull the cups of your bras down, fully exposing yourself Sukuna’s eyes .. and Yuji’s, too oh God.
The reminder that Yuji can see everything that’s happening sends a fleet of butterflies to your stomach, and you kick yourself mentally when you find yourself jutting out your chest just a bit. Does he like them, the thoughts zips through your mind, and you don’t have time to question where the hell it came from before hands are roughly squeezing at them, calloused fingers pinching and twisting at your nipples.
“Are they as good as you imagined, kid? Cause you imagine them a lot.” Sukuna smirks, and then he’s snapping his eyes up to yours. “You wanna know what he thinks about doing to them?” His tongue lazily laps at your folds, occasionally parting them to venture down to your clenching hole and take a dip inside before repeating the process.
Sukuna doesn’t wait for your answer.
“He thinks about putting his cock between them, pushing them together so it’s nice and tight and fucking them.” He demonstrates, hands pushing your breasts together, and you can’t help but watch his hands as they grope and fondle you. “Thinks about how they’d bounce when he’s got you riding his cock.” His hands leave your breasts to instead grip your hips, and you gasp when easily lifts you, just to drop you back down onto his tongue, the appendage sliding into your cunt and reaching deep.
“Sukuna!”
He continues to lift you up and down, forcing you to ride his tongue, and his eyes stay locked on your bouncing breasts, lips still fixed in that same smirk. “You gonna come?” You feel as if his words are directed at more than just you. He moves you faster, nails biting into your skin, and your face contorts into one of bliss as you hold onto his wrists as tight as you can, eyes fluttering shut as your pussy clamps down.
He pulls you down for the final time, mouth latched onto your cunt as you come, greedy gulps and sucks sounding as he swallows down your slick, his hands moving from your hips to your back. He roughly pulls you towards his face, and a whimper-y moan forces itself out of you as his lips wrap around a stiff nipple, teeth sinking in before he’s soothing the sting away with his tongue.
You sag against him, ragged breaths disturbing tufts of pink hair, and the aggressive sucking on your breast morphs into softer, gentler sucks, the nails that had been scratching at your back replaced with gentle caresses, and the tongue and mouth that had been abusing your now puffy and sore cunt is gone.
“Yuji.” You sigh, and he hums around you before his whole body goes stiff, tongue pausing its gentle swipe against your nipple, and hands slowly moving away from you. The heat against your chest is sweltering, and you push yourself up on shaky arms, tiredly blinking down at his red face.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know he would do that or say those things! I-I don’t even know why he said all those things, I don’t think about you like that, I swear!” He goes off into a tangent, eyes darting between your face and your breasts, and you sigh again before leaning back down to push your lips against his.
The kiss is chaste and quick, and when you pull back your face is as hot as his, and you become acutely aware of your state of dress, hands fumbling to fix your bra and redo your shirt as you avert your gaze.
“What was that for?”
“You… you wouldn’t stop talking.” You defend as you fix the last button, and then you’re struggling to your feet before Yuji finally frees himself from his stupor and helps you. He pulls away from you and takes a few steps back, the both of you staring at each other in silence for a bit, and your eyes widen when you see his shirt has been ripped away around the stomach, the skin there wet from you and his happy trail glistening with your juices.
“I-”
“You-”
“Sorry, you go.” You both interrupt each other again.
“He-”
“We-”
You heave out a breath as he groans, and when he goes to say something else to wave your hands back and forth, stopping him short. “Let’s never talk about this again.”
“Oh… okay! Yeah! Okay! Lips are sealed.” He motions to lock his lips and throw away the key, and you can’t help but smile just a bit.
“Okay.” You nod, hands twisting together, and there’s another uncomfortable silence before he speaks up again.
“I can, um, walk you to class?”
“Oka—oh, your shirt.” You gesture to his ruined uniform, and he looks down as his eyebrows raise.
“How’d that happen—oh, yeah.” He looks at you, and you roll your lips into your mouth. “I guess I should change then.” You nod. “I’ll see you tonight then, right? For movie night?” Could you really sit through a movie with him after what Sukuna just did, after what he told you? An ache starts as you recall what he had revealed to you, and your eyes meet Yuji’s as you nod again.
“Yeah. Tonight.”
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satoruxx · 6 months
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thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF
AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔
pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33
OK SO
it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.
the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.
well until he notices you anyway.
you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.
he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.
satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.
typical and so predictable.
some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.
and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.
but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.
suguru would probably like you too.
so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.
you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.
dammit.
"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.
"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.
"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"
satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"
realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.
"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."
satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.
you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"
he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."
the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."
satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"
you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."
satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."
your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.
honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘toji doesn’t know how to properly give aftercare — nor did he care to do so before. but, meeting you changed his ways of thinking.’
☀︎|toji fushiguro x female reader. suggestive; fluff, comfort, angst. established relationship. hint of an age gap between toji and reader. mention of virgin!reader. mention of toji’s previous / past wife. grumpy sad dilf toji who learns how to love again t_t. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl’. self indulgent? yessir.
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toji grunts and his exhausted body collapses to the side, careful not to crush you underneath his burly figure. he drapes one arm over his eyes with the other resting near his side. his eyelids felt heavy — clearly needing some rest after hours of continuous bodily satisfaction.
he had gone a bit overboard this once. even toji himself was feeling the aftermath since his muscles were aching and his brain was telling him to go to sleep. the assassin was about to, however his ears picked up on a little muffled whimper sounding from beside him.
“mmph,” you sniff. your face was still buried in the pillow below you — your tears and drool staining the material. your limbs were trembling and you were completely and utterly spent. you couldn’t even turn around to lay on your back; it was all just too much.
toji watches you with an unchanging expression for a second. normally for him this would be the part where he’d get the money, dress himself back up and leave through the front door with a small ‘thanks for your time’ comment.
but, that was his past. that was after the death of his wife and before he had met you — that was a dark time where he sought money in any kind of way to ease the hidden guilt and pain in his body. he’d sleep with women for a pay check. and maybe also to simply forget about his miserable life.
toji thought that he wouldn’t ever love himself nor another person again after his life went downhill. though, that thought was proven wrong by you.
you were a girl whom he had met on numerous occasions by accident to the point you decided to exchange phone numbers. you had also eventually started to help toji with his son - megumi - during tough times.
a sweet young woman: that’s what you were and still are in his eyes. maybe you were the change toji needed. the miracle to heal from his past and get himself together.
“hey,” the dark-haired man speaks up in a gruff tone after taking in your weak state. he felt a faint twinge of guilt deep within him since he was the reason you ended up like that. perhaps he took it too far.
you looked up at toji through half-closed and watery eyes. all you could do was tiredly hum in response, “mhm?”
silence follows. it’s not really awkward, but there was a barely noticeable sense of insecurity radiating from the assassin. for the first time in a good while.
toji’s eyes dart around the room in hopes of finding or seeing something that would remind him of what to do in such a situation. aftercare; he knew how important that is after sex, but had forgotten how to properly execute it. he hadn’t done so in a good few years.
that could also be an excuse. maybe he was simply afraid to show any kind of affection to someone again. maybe.
despite all of it — despite all those complex thoughts and feelings — his body moved on its own command. toji shifted closer to your side, rough hand slowly reaching out to give you some head pats. that’s the best he could do for now.
“heh.��� you chuckle, yet felt extremely happy that toji had shown any type of affection toward you in such a vulnerable moment. his fingers massaging your scalp gently, over and over, was enough of a sign for you. a sign that he cares.
you knew all about his hard life; past and present. you accepted toji for who he was and what he has done and does. one of the only people who’d stay by his side throughout it all.
“thanks, toji.” the words that left your lips made the older man silently nod. his touch grew a bit more confident after your positive reaction. his hand traveled down to the nape of your neck and over to your shoulder, turning you around so you could lay comfortably on your back.
toji couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across your gorgeous skin. even if it was sweaty and covered in other bodily fluids, it still was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his entire life.
“you okay?” he asks to which you give a weary nod. she’s far from okay judging by the looks of it, toji thought to himself.
he hesitantly leans his head down to plant a quick kiss on your shoulder. that did feel a bit awkward, though it turned loving the more you positively reinforced him with your verbal reactions.
toji sighs as he tries his best to keep you as comfortable as possible around him. his hands grab you by your sides and he hoists you up onto his lap, gently pushing your head against his chest; “c’mere my little girl.”
you happily accept the affection toji gives you. it wasn’t often that he’d do this after sex and you understand why. it takes a lot to heal from his previous wounds and you were there to support him throughout that journey. the fact that he was trying was enough.
“you’re nice ‘n warm,” you murmur, eyes droopy as you snuggle against toji’s bare chest. the older man chuckles at your comment and his big hands come to rest on your back to hold you in place — to give you a sense of security.
you didn’t have any regrets about tonight nor about any other night spent in bed with him. toji was the only man whom you were content with showing your body to. he’d never judge nor hurt you in any way, unlike the other more immature men in your indirect environment.
plus, you remember how unexpectedly gentle the big and scary looking man was with you during your first time a few days back. he was the perfect man for you in your eyes—in his own way.
“y’r real pretty. like a doll.”
the sudden compliment forces you awake. you blink thrice, trying to make sense of what you had heard. was it your imagination? no, it definitely sounded like toji. that deep and now almost groggy voice.
you lift your head up and lock eyes with the assassin. he was looking right back at you whilst the pad of his thumb delicately wipes some drool off your right cheek. you quietly stared at him for a good while which makes toji raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“pfft.” you let out a short laugh. you were both embarrassed and amused at the loving words that the older man had told you out of the blue. it made you feel tingly all over in a good way.
“what? did i say somethin’ weird?” toji questions as his hands slowly roam all over your body like they usually would, squeezing and rubbing longer in some spots, “i jus’ said what i observed.”
there was no hiding that lopsided grin on toji’s lips. the soft sound of your laughter was enough to make his entire body relax and give in to the warmth of the moment and the love that radiates between you two. you really were meant to be with him.
“no, no.” you shake your head after giggling. your lips find a spot on his chest to place a kiss upon in response, “it was cute.”
toji huffs at being called cute. no one had ever called him that. it didn’t really hurt his pride or ego — you could call him anything you wanted to and he wouldn’t mind. his rough hand does however give you a light smack on the ass after that.
“y’re lucky i love you, doll.” he grumbles and nuzzles his nose into your hair. the words left his lips before his brain had processed them. it was probably said subconsciously since toji doesn’t realise that he uttered the three words. the three words he usually hesitates on saying now flowing off the tongue so naturally.
you weren’t going to ruin the moment by teasing him about it. you were just happy that toji didn’t think twice before telling you that he loved you this time. it was a huge step forward in your relationship.
you simply giggle some more before placing a kiss on his lips that he instantly reciprocates.
“i love you too, toji.”
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heich0e · 2 months
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the itadori house always smells faintly of clean laundry.
it's not because the two boys who live there are particularly diligent about staying on top of their housework—the towering pile of recyclables in the corner of the kitchen is proof enough of that—but it's because the first time yuuji had tried to do his own laundry, he used way too much detergent. the ensuing tsunami of soap suds had flooded nearly half-way across the tiny apartment—coating the floors, the baseboards, and anything else in its path, in a slippery (though pleasantly fragranced) froth that took DAYS for the two brothers to clean up. it must have sunk in to the floorboards, or there must still be traces of it lingering in nooks and crannies that they couldn't reach, because even now, years after the catastrophe, the scent still lingers.
even though the mere mention of the incident still makes a vein of irritation throb in sukuna's forehead, and makes yuuji hang his head in shame, you don't mind the smell. it's familiar after all these years. it reminds you of this place.
you burrow your face down into the cushion of the living room sofa. it's raining today, and a bit humid, so the scent of detergent is particularly strong.
you're nearly asleep when a voice interrupts your quiet moment of relaxation.
"i should start charging you rent, y'know."
you don't open your eyes, even once you hear the words that come from above you. even without looking, you can picture the scene: sukuna leaning over the back of the sofa that you're sprawled across, his weight resting on his elbows as he peers down at you with his usual scowl. it's not the same scowl he shows to everyone else—the one that makes people shrink back under his gaze—this is a softer version of the same expression, dulled by familiarity. if you were more optimistic you might even say it was blunted by affection.
"stop pretending to sleep, kid." you feel his hand grasp your hip, shaking you lightly. "i know you're faking."
you feel a smile threatening to pull at your lips so you turn your face towards the pillow—the one you bought for the sofa, since the itadori brothers' idea of home decor is limited to creased posters for old mafia movies nobody's ever heard of and women with their tits out taped to the wall—and you burrow down to hide your expression from view.
"you're such a nuisance," sukuna groans, and then you feel the sofa dip. you figure he's pulled himself over the back of it now, based on how you feel him kneeling overtop of you with your legs straddled between his own. you're on your belly, but you can feel him rest back on his haunches, trapping your feet underneath him as he sits. "can't you nap at your own house?"
"too tired," you finally rasp out, daring to peek at him over your shoulder.
"and i'm not?" he scoffs, lifting his hand and pushing his hair back from his face. he's still half-dressed in his work uniform—a pair of slacks from the security company he's been working at part-time for the past few weeks, and a white t-shirt that he usually wears underneath the short sleeved button down that matches the trousers. "i just worked a double—been up since 4."
he does look tired, now that you have the chance to look at him. his hair is a bit dishevelled and he's got dark circles under his eyes. sukuna always looks a bit exhausted—and has since grandpa passed away and he took on the responsibility of raising yuuji. but it's particularly noticeable right now.
"and i can't even come home and take a nap on my own couch because there's a freeloader here."
you bite the inside of your cheek, wiggling around a bit underneath him so you can lay on your back.
"charge me rent then," you parry back to his complaint, and he cocks an eyebrow at your challenge. "i want a bed though. s'only fair."
"we'll get bunkbeds for yuuji's room, then," sukuna quips.
"don't wanna bunk with yuuji," you counter again, "he snores."
sukuna pauses, staring down at you. he leans forward slowly, his hands pressing into the couch cushion on either side of your waist as he dips towards you. "only one other bedroom in this place, y'know—"
you do know. it's why you said it.
"—and i have no plans to give up my bed."
sukuna is close to you now. too close, in any other circumstance, but this is one entirely of your own creation. a circumstance that feels more like an inevitability than anything, given the tension that's been crackling between the two of you lately, ever since he rescued you that night at the bar.
"didn't ask you to give it up," you say quietly, your eyes flickering across his features until they eventually settle on his lips.
sukuna makes a little noise in the back of his throat, close to annoyance, but not quite. distinctly tortured in nature.
"you really, really are a nuisance, y'know that?"
his hands are on your hips now. not like when he'd shaken you awake—this touch is greedier, needier than that passing graze. his fingertips slip up underneath the hem of your shirt until they brush against your bare skin, and the contact makes your body flush with heat.
"yuuji's gonna be back from class soon," you murmur softly, your gaze flickering back up to sukuna's heavy-lidded eyes. his nose twitches a little in annoyance, knowing you're right.
sukuna backs away a little, his hands slipping back out from underneath your shirt.
you sit up and catch his wrist in your hand, and his eyes widen in surprise. your faces are close together now—so close you can smell the cinnamon gum on his breath. he stole a pack from you a few days ago, and clearly he's still chewing it.
you can't smell the laundry detergent anymore.
"i didn't tell you to stop," you remark lightly, leaning back so you're splayed out against the sofa once more. you stare up at him, waiting for him to process what you've said—watching the thoughts play out across his uncharacteristically shocked face. "i just meant that you should hurry up and do it already."
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slvttyplum · 3 months
Text
there were rumors that satoru was quote unquote a “player” in college, which have all been debunked, but there was something perculiar.
the shy girl on campus, "you,” getting bent over every weekend by the smart, popular guy on campus.
rumors started flying and swirling around bees on flowers, people in your classes whispering and gossiping like it was middle school.
the rumors should’ve made you feel disgusted and icky, especially since everyone knew what the both of you did, but it didn’t.
it made you feel good knowing you were the only one to lock down satoru gojo and have him whimpering at your feet.
to everyone else, he was some popular kid who wouldn’t even bat an eyelash your way, but at night he was in your apartment begging you to fuck him.
i guess the real question would be, how did everyone find out? your suspicions even landed on satoru, but he wasn’t stupid enough to out himself.
your closest friend didn’t even know the two of you were together.
every time you would hear people murmur about your relationship with satoru, it would make you laugh, thinking back on the previous nights.
“fuck… you’re so tight around me.” satoru whines in your ear, and after a few seconds of no response, he leans up, looking down at you, pouting.
“look at meee, you feel too good.” his words make your cheeks warm as you open your eyes and see his beautiful face hanging above you.
of course, with rumors, there came jealous women who would purposely say sly shit to get under your skin because they couldn’t have him.
“what’s so good about her?”
“does she think she’s hot shit because she’s dating him?”
when in fact you were hot shit for dating him when they couldn’t even touch a flyaway strand on his hair.
walking around, swaying your hips and flipping your hair, to wait by his class while others rolled their eyes and snickered.
satoru didn’t fuck anyone else but you. he improved his skills by you, passed his classes because of you, and learned bodily autonomy…
all because of you, that was no secret and never will be.
if he were to fuck anyone else and give them a heavenly orgasm, he wouldn’t be able to think about anyone else but you because you taught him that.
all of his good character traits were because of you, and everyone was mad because of that.
how does this quiet scholar have a guy like satoru gojo on a leash? and why did he get sexier once it came out that he was fucking you?
although everyone else was jealous and foamed at the mouth every time they saw the both of you graze thumbs, they wanted to be you.
and that was the best part.
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darkmagic-s · 3 months
Text
theodore nott's one star rating of dirty talking
Summary: Sexting through note passing, one of Theodore's favourite ways to bother you.
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History of Magic is fun... only if you're studying it on your own. You're nice enough to pretend to be interested in whatever Professor Binns is saying, occasionally, because you would feel bad if he notices that you're falling asleep. Then again, Professor Binns doesn't exactly have a heart to feel sad about his students not finding his lesson interesting, does he? Nevertheless, you work hard to suppress the yawn that would threaten to come every five minutes. Scratch that, every minute, actually.
You look down at your notebook, eyeing it with disappointment. Every History of Magic class, your page would start with almost impressive notes and gradually, evidently, transition into lazy writings and short sentences. Sometimes not even a sentence.
The Salem Witch Trials were a series of hearings and prosecutions of people who were accused of being involved with witchcraft.
These trials occurred in Massachusetts, in the years 1692 and 1963, in which, as a result, twenty people who were accused of witchcraft being executed, and most of them being women.
Some of the women were indeed witches, though found to be entirely innocent of the crimes they were accused and executed for.
others are just no-majes
traumatic event
witches and wizards retreat to homelands
1920 second salemers
dada essay due tomorrow & practice non-verb spells
You pause in your reading, eyebrows furrowed. The Defence Against the Dark Arts essay...
That's something you'll worry about after lunch.
With a soft sigh, you lean your chin on your palm, your elbow resting on your table. How much longer until it's lunchtime?
Before you can even start to feel another yawn coming, a familiar hand from beside you slides over a torn page from a notebook, with a sentence written on it. Obviously it won't be a list of names of the Salem Witch Trials' victims, knowing your lover.
You turn your head, looking at Theodore Nott with a raised brow, before reaching out to slide the paper closer to you, your hand brushing against the back of his hand briefly. He doesn't even bother to fold the paper. He might as well read it out loud to the whole class.
"why the frown? :("
You can't help the half-smile that appears on your lips when you read the note. You write back a simple response.
"You."
Theodore practically snatches the note from you, undoubtedly excited that there's finally something exciting to do and you had to nudge him because of the noise the paper just made. He's not bothered, of course, already writing down his response.
"I will buy you sweets."
Your heart skips a beat, even at such a simple message. You glances at Theodore, who's watching your every move with that gentle gaze of his green eyes, a soft playful smile on his lips.
"Your hair looks fluffy. Would love to touch later."
You slide it over to him. You enjoy the reaction your message has on him, because he rolls his shoulders in what seems like a satisfied manner as his smile widens, before he starts to write. Clearly he thought of a good response.
"you will touch it later, and other places too"
His response comes with a drawing of a beating heart, which eventually increases and explodes, and the animation repeats. How cute, you think. With a shy smile, you write back, wanting to keep the conversation going despite how his message had left you a bit speechless.
"What do you think of the New Salem Philanthropic Society? Bold, don't you think?"
Somehow, your response causes him to snort, in which he disguises it with a fake cough. You quickly look at him with a mix of confusion and amusement.
"you're BAD at dirty talking"
This time, it's your turn to snort, causing the two people in front of you and Theodore to turn around, frowning. You want to scoff - you're pretty sure they're just annoyed because you and Theodore are interrupting their napping or daydreaming session.
Looking over at Theodore, you roll your eyes at him, before focusing on the note that is now in your hands. You wouldn't say that you're bad at dirty talking, more like... skilled in other categories of dirty talking, such as begging or... demanding. Perchance.
You write your reply with determination.
"I would need to be locked up in Azkaban for your safety."
When Theodore reads your reply, you saw his eyebrows raise - he's both surprised and impressed. He shakes his head with a breathy chuckle.
"ominous, but an improvement,"
There's another sentence below this one, and you almost choked on your own saliva.
"pull up your skirt for me a little bit"
You immediately crumple up the paper on impulse, holding it in your hand, and you swear Theodore's smirk becomes more evident. Is he serious? Writing this on a note passed in class is dangerous! But then again, someone is borderline snoring just a few tables away and Professor Binns isn't even sparing him a glance, no one is.
You smoothen the paper on your table and writes down your response, exhaling softly.
"This isn't dirty talking. You're just horny."
Theodore places down the paper on his table and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms. When your eyes meet his, he simply shrugs and pointedly looks down at your skirt.
He's waiting.
You sigh and make sure your robes are out of the way of display of your skirt. With your hands nervously gripping onto the hem of your skirt, you look around the classroom. Some are doodling, and some are literally sleeping. No one would find out, really.
You pull up your skirt by just an inch.
Okay, two inches.
"That's it," Theodore whispers unexpectedly, causing your heart to skip a beat. What handful he is.
He slides over the paper to you, and you notice he didn't write a response. You send him a questioning look, and he gestures to his body with his hand.
Oh.
You slide the note over.
"Which one do you want?"
The note is slid back to you.
"which one do YOU want?"
You tilt your head, contemplating. The hardest decision you've ever had to make today, you think.
"You don't need to take anything off to arouse me."
You pause your writing. However...
"The tie?"
Theodore seems satisfied once he reads the note. He looks over at you and loosens his robes around his neck, revealing his vest and the white shirt underneath it. With a smirk, he loosens his tie at the top of his vest, just a little, not too obvious - for your eyes only.
You can't help but to take the paper from him despite how it's his turn to write the message. Considering how the two of you aren't exactly writing neatly on the paper which leads to taking up all the space, you had to use the other side to write your new message.
"I like your neck."
Theodore smiles fondly once he reads this, not a playful smirk this time, and you think he might even be blushing. When he glances at you, you notice how his pupils are dilated.
He slides the paper over to you, and squeezes your hand affectionately for a brief moment before pulling away.
"you will mark it?"
It's clear to you how he's subtly guiding you towards saying the right thing, lest you start delving into the whole Second Salemers' background in your reply, and you can't help but to want to impress him.
"I will write on it in runes which would translate to my name."
Theodore chuckles quietly.
"nerd"
A true romantic.
You write back - shamelessly.
"You want me so bad."
You see him pressing his palm to his face, as his shoulders shake in quiet, small laughter. Naturally, seeing him smiling so big widens yours too. He leans towards you and whispers in amusement, "You are bad at dirty talking."
"You will never find anyone as good as me," you reply in a whisper, leaning back in your seat, putting on a smug expression, despite the fond smile that threatens to break though.
As Theodore leans in to peck your cheek, you can't help but to briefly think that, if you were good in dirty talking, a whole notebook would've been used up for this period alone. You needed to have a flaw, after all.
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buckyalpine · 4 months
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Hi!!!! I love your work and talent, you are so amazing!💗 I was wondering if you could do a light angst fic. Like bucky is a player who is just running through women, and the avenger reader has a big crush on him . She has to watch him string girls through the tower all the time and it makes her sad. Bucky's type is dark,red lip, baddie but reader is the mom of the friend group and wears pink and is super sweet and a little awkward, she is also a mutant who has like earth powers. So whenever she's happy or laughing flowers will bloom in her hair. She's so cute. Kinda like the trope: she fell first but he fell harder. And like bucky realizes that he's madly in love with our sweet baby angel reader. And the FLUFF!! 💗💗💗
Thank you, love Binks 💖
Yes. Yesyesyes. I hope you're all ready cause I sat with this piece for weeks. Jealously, Misunderstandings, love sick Bucky, idiots in love, SO MUCH ANGST AND FLUFF . Protective best friend Steve and dash of smut cause I can't help myself, its so sweet and soft and I love these two, put myself in my feelings with their spicy and sweet loving.
-
"See you later Sargent" A gorgeous woman walked by the kitchen on her way out or the tower, winking over her shoulder and blowing a kiss to the soldier who smirked at her in response. Her lipstick hadn't budged even after a night of who knows what with Bucky, her perfectly curved hips swaying along with the click of her heels.
You were busy with making breakfast, dustings of flour covering your nose and cheeks, still in your baby pink pj's, looking the total opposite of the gorgeous girl Bucky spent the night with.
"Damn Barnes" Tony whistled after the she had left, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "Where do you find em'-Ow!" Tony yelped when Nat gave his ear a flick, cocking her eyebrow up in amusement.
"I'll let Pepper know you're curious-
"Nope. No. I was just admiring Terminators taste" Tony threw his hands up, swiping a hot pancake from the stack you were plating making you giggle, tiny daisies blooming around your hair "These are delicious Petal. I'll never get tired of seeing that" Tony smiled, looking at the fresh little flowers that reflected your mood, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before returning to the lab.
"Sure, admiring taste" Nat snorted while Bucky snickered, taking a seat at the kitchen island; his fluffy hair still messy from bed. You set down a plate in front of him, adding butter and some fresh strawberries on the side just the way he liked.
"Here you go Sargent" You smiled softly before getting started on cutting up more fruit for Steve and Sam who would be returning from their run soon.
"These are amazing" Bucky hummed, reaching for more; he'd never get tired of your cooking. You tried to bite back a smile while vines of baby pink roses weaved their way through your hair, matching the fuzzy feeling the soldier made you feel. The flowers were not missed by Bucky who watched you continue to flit about the kitchen like a little garden fairy, making sure everyone would have something for breakfast. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way you crawled up onto the counters like a cat to reach the highest shelves, a few knotty tendrils sneaking their way through your hair indicating your frustrations when you nearly dropped a cup.
"Do you have different flowers for different moods?" Bucky continued to watch you while you slinked off the counter, starting on a smoothie.
"Sort of? Yeah I guess" You thought to yourself, noting you'd often have yellow ones when you'd laugh, or purple ones when you were excited. You only ever got pink ones around Bucky; the only person to make you feel warm and shy and soft. You were caught off guard the first time you saw the tiny pink buds in your hair the same day you met him when you joined the team. No one else seemed to notice, too busy admiring the fact that gorgeous petals decorated your hair.
Everyone except Bucky.
The soldier was trained to notice everything.
He'd seen every type of flower adorn your hair but these ones were just around him.
"What do the little pink roses mean you're feeling?" Bucky asked, cocking his head when you looked at him like a deer in headlights.
Shit.
"It-I-happy! It means I'm happy" You stuttered out unconvincingly while Bucky hummed, cleaning off his plate before heading down to the gym, taking one last glance over his shoulder before rounding the corner.
Those tiny pink roses suited you perfectly; the human embodiment of a little fairy.
Ever since you'd joined the team, they were blessed with a full breakfast almost every morning, sometimes even dinner. Outside of your role as an Avenger, you took on a nurturing role within the team and of course that was just who you were, being so in tune with nature and naturally caring for those around you. Still, it was evident you went above and beyond just instinct when it came to taking care of others; you were very much the mom of the group. Initially Bucky found it confusing, wondering why you were so nice to everyone, always checking on their needs and being prepared for just about anything. He was so used to functioning on his own, he found it jarring when you were looking out for him too; didn't you know who he was? Why were you being nice to him?
He didn't even have it in him to give you the cold shoulder like he did with everyone else. What kind of person would he be if he was rude to the sweetest person he'd ever met. You were just so precious and sweet and you always smelled like fresh flowers and sunshine, he would've basked under your light for hours on end if you let him-
Bucky shook his head, breaking away from the train of thoughts he was having about you yet again. You didn't make sense. More specifically, him thinking of you didn't make sense. He was rough, rugged, made of muscle and metal, didn't like most people and the last time he'd been nurturing was back when he'd nurse Steve back to health more than 70 years ago.
You on the other hand were literally made of flowers, combined with soft sweetness, shy smiles and giggles. You were cute. Too cute. He had no business thinking about you, ignoring the fluttery jitter in his heart as he tossed a wink to a SHIELD agent who was training at the weights. She had joined recently, typically taking on missions which required her to go under cover in skin tight dresses and bodysuits; it was perfect for her given her tall and toned build. The woman smirked in response, biting her dark red painted lip before making her way over to him by the punching bags.
"Hey Sarge" she purred, bringing her hand up to toy with his dogtags, tugging at them suggestively, "Busy tonight?"
"We're having a movie thing" Bucky shrugged, not suggesting they had to do anything else after but if that's where the night led then-
"Hmm, I'll see you later then" She batted her lashes at him before going back to her set.
This made sense.
Casual. Sexy. Flirty.
Everything Bucky was good at and comfortable with. No feelings, no attachments. No deep, undying love he felt for a certain sweet girl on his team that he'd give his life for.
This made perfect sense.
-
You were the last to make it down to movie night after spending most of the evening prepping drinks and snacks for others. Movie nights were rare and it was even more rare for everyone to be present. You made sure there was something for each member of the team, from sour candy to chocolate, chips, cookies, tiny sandwiches and an array of drinks you'd set up on the coffee table.
You stood at the edge of the living room dressed in your warm oversized sweater and mismatched fluffy socks, nervously peering around the room for an empty space; usually you'd curl up on the two seater sofa with a thick fuzzy blanket draped over you but-
Your heart sank seeing yet another beautiful girl cuddled up next to Bucky, taking up all the space on the couch. A part of you contemplated on going back to your room; the sinking feeling in your stomach worsened seeing the new agent adjust herself until she was pressed right against the soldier. Why did you have to fall for for the person who wouldn't look at you twice. You were dressed in clothes too big and soft, a stark contrast to the matching silk lounge set she was wearing, leaving no doubt over how absolutely perfect her body was.
"Hey Petal, c'mere" Steve noticed you looking for a spot, patting he seat beside him, shifting over so you could join. You smiled at the Captain, quietly shuffling through the room, hiding into the cushions as the movie started. Your heart dropped further each time you heard the girl Bucky was with giggle, slinking around his lap while he gave her his flirty smirk. There were occasional times where flowers wouldn't bloom in your hair and this was one of them.
Steve noticed your less than enthusiastic demeanor, catching you glancing over at the brunette super soldier and his friend for the night, internally rolling his eyes at what an idiot his best friend was. He threw his arm around you, pulling you in to snuggle with him, whispering his own commentary as the movie progressed, hoping to lighten your mood.
You giggled, a few yellow flowers blossoming in your hair making Steve grin. Bucky watched carefully, a new emotion flaring in his chest as he watched bright petals fall onto your lap each time you laughed. He didn't like the new feeling that started off as warm to blazing hot, what was it he was even feeling-
Irritation? Sure a bit.
Confusion? Most certainly but not quite.
Jealously.
That's what he was feeling. He wanted to be the one who caused gorgeous tendrils of flowers to bloom, the one to make you giggle and laugh, the one who got to snuggle up with you. He was envious over how lucky Steve was, getting to cuddle up with such a soft bunny, his jealously momentarily interrupted when he took a moment to look at what you were wearing.
You looked so comfy with your warm sweater, your feet nice and toasty with your favorite socks. Bucky remembered you talking to him about them once, reading socks you'd called them.
"They're super soft and warm!" you grinned, clutching them to your chest after a trip to a book store. "I've been wanting a pair for ages. I finally caved and got them, I can't wait to put them on"
Bucky remembered chuckling to himself over how excited you'd gotten over a pair of socks, a few buds of lavender poking through your hair from how relaxed and calm they made you feel.
You looked so soft to cuddle up with like a little bear he'd hold to his chest, one that would protect him and keep him warm and safe. He wished he had a spot beside him because you would've sat where you always do and it would be him with his arm around you instead of Steve. He didn't want anything else. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to create some distance between himself and the agent, her close proximity suddenly feelings much to hot. She frowned, feeling him pull back, scooting over till she was cuddled up with him again.
Great.
"Did you want me to grab you something?" Steve asked you as he reached over for some chips, popping a few into his mouth. Before you could respond, you saw the woman whisper something in Bucky's ear, winking playfully before sitting up and taking his hand, the both of them leaving the movie half way. You felt like throwing up knowing he was taking her to his bedroom though you knew you had no right to be upset. He wasn't yours and he was welcome to do as he pleased though that didn't make the pain go away.
Bucky's POV
"How about it Sarge" She moved her hand up his thigh, giving it a squeeze, not bothering to wait for the movie to finish. Bucky stared at her like a deer in headlights while she cocked her head waiting for a response. Bucky glanced over to you, his heart breaking seeing your face fall. "Bucky? Are you listening to me?"
Bucky blinked realizing he was paying attention to you, mumbling an apology before turning to the agent. He didn't know who he was fooling but it was getting embarrassing, especially when he knew Steve was glaring at him from across the room. Neither of them had to open their mouths to understand the silent conversation they were having through their eyes alone.
"You're an idiot"
"Shut up"
"You know you like her"
"I-I don't..."
"Then why do you keep glaring at me like I stole your girl punk"
"Don't worry about it"
"You better figure it out before you hurt her more"
"She likes me?"
"You're an idiot"
"Jerk"
That did it. Bucky couldn't' last another second seeing your petals fall, the flowers Steve brought all retreating away and he couldn't sworn he saw you blink back tears. He couldn't keep doing this.
"Um, yeah sure" Bucky nodded, leading the woman away, walking past the elevators and towards the compound exist instead. As soon as he'd told the new agent he just couldn't do it he ran back to the living room in hopes of finding you only to find your spot empty.
You did your best to bite down on your trembling lip but it didn't work. As soon as the first whimper slipped out, Steve hugged you softly, telling you to to go to your room. You looked at him through wet lashes, his soft blue eyes filled with understanding. You rushed straight to your room, zooming right past Bucky's hoping you wouldn't have to hear anything, curling up into a ball in your bed where you wept under the covers.
Why did you fall for him?
Bucky looked over to Steve who nodded towards the elevators that took you to your floor, the super soldier wasting no time pressing the button to the 4th floor. He was at your door as soon as the elevator dinged open, softly knocking while his stomach continued to churn.
What would you think of him.
Why didn't he just accept his feelings the second he fell in love with those pretty little pink roses?
God you probably hated him now.
Bucky nervously chewed his lip,
"Petal?" Bucky called for you, hoping you'd open the door, his his heart hammering against his chest hearing soft sniffles from the other side of the door. "Petal, can you open the door sweets?"
He heard you continue to softly cry, his body working before his mind could catch up as he let himself into your room. He hated the sight of the little ball buried under a pile of blankets, hiding away from the world with a broken heart because of him. He made his way to your bed, sitting on the edge, petting the blanket gently to let you know he was there.
"Bucky?" You shuffled some of the blanket off, surprised to see him there, what was he doing in your room? Wasn't he spending the night with the girl he'd brought? Why did he look so distraught? You sat up with concern, looking him over to see if he was hurt because why was he here with you when he should be with her?
"Did-did you need something, is everything okay?" You tried to keep you voice steady, quickly wiping away your tears and forcing a smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.
"No sweet girl, everything isn't okay" Bucky whispered, smiling at your confused pout, his hand coming up to brush some of the strands of hair that were near your forehead. He let his hand linger on your cheek, wiping away your wet cheeks with his thumb before sitting closer to you. "Why were you crying"
You averted your eyes as soon as he asked the question, staring at your lap instead, playing with your fingers. Your voice was caught in your throat, shrugging as if you didn't know the answer. Bucky was surprised with himself, equally shy to actually say anything even though he wanted to pour his heart out. With others the smooth talking, the flirting, the boyish smirks came easy.
Not with you.
Not with his little fairy.
"Y/n, please" He tilted your chin to meet his puppy like eyes, hoping you'd understand how he felt without saying anything. His innocent gaze caused your cheeks to heat up, feeling his rough calloused hands touching you so softly. You bit your lip as your hair betrayed you, pink petals starting to decorate your hair.
"What do the little pink roses mean?" He whispered with hope in his voice, his heart aching with need seeing your shy smile, "Please tell me pretty girl. I- I only see them when I'm around you"
"It-it means-" you hesitated, scared this would all come crashing and burning if you told him the truth. Maybe he was just being nice, pausing his date to check on you. Or maybe-Just maybe? "I like you"
Had he not had super hearing Bucky would've missed your near silent whisper. The blush on his cheeks matched the flowers in your hair as he reached out for you, pulling you to his chest.
"C'mere my precious little petal" Bucky cooed, scooping you in his arms. You squeaked in surprised before giggling into his chest, the sound making Bucky's heart swell. "There she is" He smiled against your hair seeing little buds blooming again, the tiny pink roses he loved so much sprouting to life.
"Don't you have a date" You asked hesitantly while Bucky shook his head, holding onto you tighter.
"You should've been my date petal, m'sorry for not telling you how I felt about you earlier. I was scared"
"Scared?" You cupped his scruffy cheek, letting your thumb stroke his beard while he nodded, leaning into your touch.
"Scared I wasn't right for you. It didn't feel right falling in love with someone so precious when you're the complete opposite of me" His confession caused stray tears to slip down your cheeks while Bucky kissed them away. "But I promise, if you'd let me have you, I'd take care of you and love you with my whole heart. I promise I'd never hurt you sweets, I've fallen so hard for you, there's no one else I'd rather be with"
You couldn't help yourself, pulling him down for a kiss, giggling at the surprised squeak he let out before groaning and melting into your sweetness.
"I'm yours Jamie"
Stop here if the fluff was enough. Cause next is their sweet love making.
I know it's not part of the ask but imagine their first night together where Bucky doesn't want to over step so he doesn't make a move. He notices you being more cuddly and shy, burrowing into him when you're in his room and that's when he sees gorgeous deep red roses blooming in your hair. He knows by now how to read your mood based on your flowers but he hadn't seen this before.
"Petal?"
"What is it Buck" You look at him with wide doe eyes, hoping he doesn't feel the the heat you feel radiating through your body. You need him. It's more than just physical; you need him as close as possible in the most intimate way because you adore him so much.
"Your hair sweet girl" He runs his fingers through your hair, stroking the velvety petals making you whine from sensitivity, immediately silencing yourself from embarrassment. "What do you need love, you can tell me"
"Need you closer" You whispered, nuzzling your face into his neck where you could breathe in his cologne and a scent that was distinctly him.
"Closer how baby, you're-" It takes a moment for the pieces to click for Bucky to figure out just how much closer you need him, moving his hands to your hips, rubbing them up and down. "oh. OH. Is that all baby? Need me extra close?"
You nodded with another whine while Bucky moved you to lay against his pillows before slowly undressing you until you were both bare with nothing separating you.
"Bucky please, just-just want you" On any other night, you'd allow him to tease and toy with your body but you needed him so badly, your body throbbing, feeling more empty than ever.
"Shhh, m'here baby, it's okay, breathe for me petal, okay?" He stroked your hair while rubbing his weeping tip through your folds gathering your slick before pressing his cockhead against your entrance, "m'right here"
You both gasped at the feeling of him pushing his length inside, his movements slow until he was buried to the hilt. Your pussy quivered trying to pull him in deeper, tears welling along your lash line as he started to move, hardly pulling out, keeping his cock deep inside you.
"Look at these pretty roses" Bucky whispered against your lips as he rocked his hips, his hands laced with yours while more flowers bloomed, your legs moving to wrap tightly around his waist.
"All-all just for you Bucky" You hiccupped with pleasure between moans feeling a different level of satisfaction with him inside you. You finally felt complete as he moved faster, clinging onto him so you'd feel his full body weight lay on you. "More-I-I need more"
You'd never felt like this before, your powers starting to manifest throughout the room as you grew closer and closer to your orgasm. Dark green stems crawled up the bed posts as he fucked you harder, your gorgeous floral scent sending Bucky into over drive. He was the only one who'd make you feel like this, the only person to ever get to see those dark red petals strewn across his bed.
There was something so intimate knowing no one else would ever get to see you like this, no one else would smell how sweet you were when he drove you mad with pleasure.
All the dark red roses full of love and lust just for him.
"I'll give you more pretty girl" Bucky growled, his own high licking down his spine feeling your pussy tighten around him, begging for him to keep going.
"Don't-please don't stop" you begged, clawing at his back, "I-I'm gonna-"
"Cum baby, cum for me petal, give it to me" He pleaded right back, sweat beading at his forehead, his pace growing sloppy. Your back arched off the bed as he reached to rub your sensitive bud sending your nerves into over drive. "OH BUCKY"
As soon as he felt your pussy clamp around his cock as you cried out in pleasure Bucky moaned loudly, tucking his face into your neck as he spilled into you.
"Take it love, t-take it" He stuttered, trembling as the last of his orgasm dribbled into you. He watched in awe as the deep red petals that previously covered the room disappeared into thin hair, his classic favorite little pink roses decorating your hair once more. Bucky pulled the sheets over you both, holding you to his chest while kissing your forehead at you closed your eyes.
"Sleep tight, petal"
2K notes · View notes
brunetttebaby · 2 months
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abby being a possessive, jealoussss asshole !! (i love possessive women🙇🏽‍♀️)
she literalllyy just can’t help it! if y’all are in public? she has her hands around you at all times, whether it your waist or hips, you had to be in arms reach. everybody had to know you’re hers and only hers!!
she can’t even stand the idea of anyone touching you. none of her friends can get close to you without her being all touchy the second they show up.
she knows just how beautiful her partner is, and knows peoples intentions with her <3
and the sex that comes with this is the best. being a touchy motherfucker, she’ll cup your breast with one hand, the other knuckle deep inside you as she’s being soooo mean.
“yeah? i saw the way he was looking at you. you think he can make this pretty pussy feel this good?” she teased, referring to the waiter at the restaurant you were just at.
you shook your head frantically, biting your lip.
“no abs, ‘course not! only you can make me- fuck! feel this good!” you moaned out, making her laugh at your desperate response.
“mhm, that’s right princess. such a sweet girl f’me.” and she wouldn’t just stop there. she always had her strap with her, and there was a reason for it.
“i don’t know if you’ve learned your lesson yet, baby. ya think i need to teach you who you belong to?” you nodded frantically, practically drooling as she slid her fingers out of you, pulling her strap out.
“please, abs, i need it!” you begged, after her teasing you nonstop, only sliding the tip in, leaving you wanting more as she went on.
“i didn’t say it’d be easy, pretty girl.”
a/n ; i’ve returned to feed my fellow abby whores 🧟‍♀️ (i’ll write an ellie one soon but it’s harder to come up with stories for her😭😭)
935 notes · View notes
punkshort · 1 month
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saturday
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (established relationship)
Summary: Your sister, Cassie, gives birth, and Joel has a question for your father.
Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, soft!joel, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), size kink?, alcohol use, reader's sister (obviously) gives birth but there's no description of the event
WC: 6.6K
Series Masterlist
dividers by @saradika-graphics
2:38am
You blinked a few times, making certain you were reading the time correctly. Sleep still weighed you down and you were having a hard time comprehending what woke you up in the first place. Then you heard it again and your heart jumped into your throat.
Someone was at your apartment door, you were sure of it. You could hear quiet scratching on the other side and when you sat up in bed to look across your apartment, you could see the unmistakable shadows of two legs under the crack in the door.
"Oh, my god," you mumbled, throwing the sheets off and grabbing your phone. Where was the baseball bat Joel gave you? What the hell did you do with it?
"Closet," you whispered to yourself, taking a few steps towards the coat closet when the door cracked open and you froze. You were in the middle of your apartment in just a tank top and underwear, clutching your stupid phone. This is how women are always killed in horror movies, you thought.
A familiar man's broad fame tripped over his own feet as he entered, and when you heard him curse quietly under his breath, relief flooded your veins which was quickly followed by annoyance. Reaching over to the floor lamp next to your couch, you flicked the switch, making him yelp and wince.
"What the hell are you doing, Joel?!"
He blinked rapidly and looked around the room before his eyes landed on you and a lazy grin spread across his lips. His hair was a mess and you could smell the alcohol and cigarettes from ten feet away. You wrinkled your nose but you couldn't help the goofy smile you always got whenever you saw him.
"You stink."
"Hey, baby," he croaked, his voice raspy from having far too much fun that evening. He stumbled towards you and you noticed dark spots staining his navy T-shirt that you hoped was just spilled beer.
"You scared the shit outta me. I almost called the cops!" you said, holding up your phone. "What are you doing?"
"Came t'see you," he slurred, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. Now that he was standing in the light, you could see the pink dusting his cheeks underneath his heavy lidded eyes.
"You're very drunk," you told him, and he just hummed in response before burying his face in your neck. "Had fun with Tommy and the guys I take it?"
"Mhm," he mumbled, his lips sucking messily at your shoulder. "Wanted t'see you. Missed you. Fuck, you smell so good."
You giggled when his facial hair ticked your neck. "You came to see me because you can't drive home and my apartment is within walking distance of all the bars."
He pulled away and gave you a feigned look of hurt. "No. Thought 'bout you all night. Talked 'bout you all night," he said, leaning into the crook of your neck. His hands slid down from your waist to cup your ass and he groaned. "I like these," he murmured into your skin, his fingertips tugging playfully at the edge of your underwear.
And even though your body was responding to his touch, warmth blooming between your legs, your curiosity won. "What did you talk about?" you asked, biting on your lower lip when he pulled you closer, pressing you against his erection through his jeans.
"How fuckin' happy you make me. How I wanna spend my life with you. How sexy you are," he said lowly, gripping your jaw and giving you a sloppy kiss.
"Oh, wow, spend your life with me? You really are drunk," you giggled after you pulled away. "Let me make you something to eat."
You managed to wiggle out of his grasp and walk towards the kitchen area, flicking on lights as you went and opening the fridge. "Leftover pizza okay?" you asked, pulling out the cardboard box and flipping the top open before grabbing some foil to lay down in your toaster oven.
"What'dya mean? I ain't that drunk. 'Course I wanna spend my life with you," he said, leaning up against your counter, watching you work.
You turned the dial on the toaster oven and popped in two slices of leftover takeout pizza before turning around to face him. "We met four months ago and you want to spend your life with me?"
His eyes suddenly appeared clearer when he looked at you. "Yeah. 'Course I do."
You gave him a look before pulling a plate down from your cupboard.
"What? You don't believe me?"
You put the plate down and shook your head.
"It doesn't matter," you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him down for a kiss, but he pulled back before you could make contact.
"I mean it," he told you, sounding serious. "Already got the ring."
Your eyes bugged out of your head and your eyebrows shot straight up. "What?!"
"I'm just kiddin'," he said immediately when he saw your reaction, something flickering across his face for a split second before the toaster oven beeped and distracted you. You pulled your arms away, turning around to check his food when you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind.
"I'm only hungry for one thing," he whispered in your ear, the ring comment suddenly long forgotten. You leaned back into his chest, pulling his pizza out of the oven while he nipped at your earlobe.
"Why don't you eat some actual food," you offered, turning around in his arms with a playful smirk. "And then you can have me for dessert?"
A wide smile stretched across his face and he nodded. "Deal."
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"Fuck, Joel," you whined, his face buried between your legs, your fingers tangled in his curls as he dragged another orgasm to the surface. You were confident at this point you've never wanted anybody the way you wanted him. You kept waiting for that honeymoon period to end, but somehow each time with him was just more intense than the last.
Your head fell back against your cupboard while you cried out his name, your thighs clutching his head as a rush of white hot heat flooded your body, little whimpers slipping past your lips until he finally pulled away. Your legs dropped shakily onto the counter as you struggled to catch your breath. He watched you try to recover with a pleased smirk on his face, wiping away your slick with the back of his hand. You gazed at him, your mouth open and panting for air, your eyes half closed and filled with need.
"Fuck me, Joel," you gasped, slipping down from the counter, your underwear lost somewhere on the floor. He groaned and crashed his mouth over yours, giving you a taste of yourself while his hands greedily reached down to lift you up, carrying you towards your bed.
"Shit," he muttered when he stumbled a bit, and you weren't sure if it was his excitement or the alcohol to blame but you giggled nonetheless.
He dropped you unceremoniously onto your bed before he got to work stripping himself of his clothes. He seemed to be struggling with his belt but when you kneeled on the mattress and pulled your tank top off, his fingers magically began to work faster at the leather. He hopped on one foot, kicking his jeans off in a hurry and making you laugh before he stood up straight against the edge of your bed and cupped your face with both his hands, pulling you in for a kiss and stealing all the air from your lungs.
He broke away but kept his nose pressed against yours, your face still held delicately in his large hands as he whispered, "need y'so bad, baby."
Your eyes drifted down between your bodies and you raised an eyebrow at his painful looking erection pressed up against your stomach. "You don't say," you teased, and he smirked before giving you one more soft kiss on the lips. He dropped his hands to your shoulders and gave you a gentle shove, indicating he wanted you to lay down, but you bit your lip and shook your head before twisting around, propping yourself up on all fours and looking back at him over your shoulder. "Like this," you told him, and a low groan rumbled deep within his chest as he stared down at you.
"You tryin' to kill me?" he asked, bringing his palms up to glide smoothly over your ass, giving one cheek a little squeeze. "I ain't gonna last long like this."
"You weren't gonna last long, anyway. Not with all the beer you drank tonight," you replied with a grin.
He chuckled and spread his legs a little wider before bending his knees and lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt the familiar fat tip of his cock notched against you, you sucked in a deep breath. Joel was normally a lot to take, but from this angle, you knew it would be even more intense.
He pushed inside with a grunt, giving you time to adjust when he heard your sharp gasp before sliding all the way inside and bottoming out with a low groan. Looking down at your ass flush with his hips, he knew he was a goner. The muscles in his stomach were already twitching and tensing and he barely even moved yet.
Your eyes squeezed shut and you pressed your mouth into your shoulder, stifling your whimpers while your body slowly relaxed around his girth.
"Y'okay, baby?" he murmured, his fingers flexing around your hips the only movement he allowed himself to make, patiently waiting for you to get comfortable.
"Mhm," you whined, then rolled your head to the side and arched your back a little, stretching yourself around him. "Just so big. So fucking big, fuck," you gasped when you felt him pulse inside you from the compliment.
"Don't talk like that, c'mon," he groaned, closing his eyes. Baseball. Tommy. Hanging drywall. Do not fucking come.
You looked at him over your shoulder, a lazy smile twitching at your lips when you saw his closed eyes and the pained expression on his face. Something about being able to pull him apart like this made you feel powerful, so you decided to have a little fun. You began to slowly move your hips, keeping your eyes on him as you rocked back and forth. His fingertips dug into your waist and his eyes flew open.
"W-wait-"
You sunk your teeth into your lower lip and moved a little faster, watching as his eyebrows pinched together and his breathing became erratic. "Why?" you asked innocently, fluttering your eyelashes at him.
"Stop, baby. Fuck, I'm-" he hissed and tried to pull out but you pushed yourself back on him further before he could move. "I'm gonna come, it's too soon," he whined, his face contorted in embarrassment.
"Joel, look at me," you commanded, slowing to a stop so he could focus. His chest was heaving and his fingertips were most definitely leaving bruises in your skin as he tried to fight off his climax. "You already made me come twice in the past thirty minutes. Now I want you to fuck me exactly like you want to and I don't care if you come in ten seconds or ten minutes. Can you do that for me?"
His eyes darkened a bit and the corner of his mouth turned up into half a smirk.
"Yes," he murmured, finally allowing his gaze to drop to your ass and you saw him swallow before taking a deep breath. In an instant his hips started snapping into you, almost making you fall forward but you quickly braced yourself. Your mouth hung open, hardly able to make a sound when your entire focus was on the way he managed to reach the furthest depths of you with each devastating stroke. One of his hands gripped your shoulder, the other still planted firmly on your waist as he slammed you back against his hips with each thrust, your skin smacking together so loudly you barely heard him grunting each time he knocked the wind out of you.
The hand he had placed on your hip slid to your lower back and he gently pressed his palm down, his pace still merciless when he whispered "can'ya arch your back a little more, baby?"
You could hardly form a coherent thought let alone sentence, so you did as you were asked without answering. Based on the loud groan you heard, he was pleased.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he chanted, breathing heavily behind you as you did your best to hold yourself up against his ruthless pace, but you could feel your legs getting weak. He suddenly fell forward and wrapped his arms around your ribs, yanking you up with a yelp so your back was flush against his chest and his mouth was pressed against the shell of your ear.
Your hands tried to grab his weakly, looking for some part of him to hold onto when he moaned into your hair and his body stilled momentarily, his hips stuttering as he flooded you with his release. Neither of you moved as you each fought to catch your breath, your head falling back against his shoulder. His heavy breathing was loud against your ear, then his chest eventually slowed down and his heartbeat returned to normal. Your legs began to tremble so he tightened his hold around you, holding you even tighter against him.
"I got you," he whispered, leaning forward so you could relax tiredly into your mattress. He pulled out with a soft grunt before collapsing next to you, stretching his arms wide. You crawled into his embrace and buried your face against his chest with a contented sigh.
"Too much?" he asked, his voice sounding a little hoarse as he drew invisible circles on your shoulder with his thumb. You shook your head and closed your eyes. "You're so fuckin' perfect, y'know that? How'd I get so lucky?" he asked softly, and you smiled. "You feed me 'n then you fuck me. What else could a man want?" he joked, and you giggled in his arms.
"Don't forget you went down on me in between those two things. You're pretty damn perfect, too."
He hummed and pulled your comforter over you both, making sure you were all tucked in and warm.
"I love you, baby."
"I love you, too," you whispered sleepily.
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9:13am
Your phone rang shrilly on your nightstand, startling you both out of your deep sleep in surprise.
"Oh, Jesus, fuck," Joel mumbled, his hands immediately coming up to clutch his head. You sat up, holding the comforter against your chest as you groggily reached for your phone, knocking over a framed picture of you and Joel in the process. When it clattered loudly to the floor, he groaned.
"What?" you snapped angrily when you answered your phone, not even looking to see who was calling.
"Buck! It's happening!"
Your heart skipped a beat and you gasped, making Joel drop his hands from his face to look at you curiously.
"Now?!"
"Yes, now!" your sister, Cassie, replied on the other end. "We're on our way to St. Dave's. Mom and Dad are already on the way."
"Oh my god!" you yelled, throwing the comforter off yourself and running to your closet completely naked. Joel sat up and gawked as you used one hand to pull out fresh clothes, tossing them on the bed frantically and although he could tell it was an emergency, he couldn't stop staring at your perfect fucking body.
"W-where do I go? The emergency room or labor and delivery?"
Joel threw his legs over the side of the bed and tried to shake away his massive hangover before standing up slowly and hunting down his clothes.
"Okay, okay. I'll be there in like," you looked at your clock quickly, "twenty minutes."
You hung up and threw your phone on your bed before grabbing your underwear and pulling them on, much to Joel's dismay.
"Cassie's in labor!" you said, rushing past him in just your bra and underwear.
"I gathered," he said with a yawn. "You got any Motrin? The hospital's got a coffee spot, right? Starbucks or somethin'?"
You popped your head out of the bathroom and handed him the bottle of medicine. "You're coming with me?"
"Yeah, 'course I am," he said, popping two pills and swallowing them dry. "Unless you don't -"
"No!" you said hurriedly, disappearing back in the bathroom. "I want you to! I just thought you'd have to go home to Sarah."
"She's at a friend's house the whole weekend. It's why Tommy dragged me out in the first place. Said I never spend time with him when we work together all damn day," he muttered under his breath before sniffing his shirt from the night before and making a face. "This smells like the floor of a bar."
"You have some spare clothes here, remember? In the third drawer," you told him as you dried your face and started to brush your hair into a ponytail. He went to your closet and opened the dresser, smiling when he saw the entire drawer was devoted to just his things before picking out a fresh outfit and a stick of deodorant, hoping it would be enough because there was no way he would have time for a shower.
"Do I still stink?" he asked worriedly when you walked by, shrugging on a shirt. You stopped and sniffed him, then grinned.
"You smell like sex."
He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case, I'm ready to go."
"At least brush your teeth, you animal," you teased, shoving him towards the bathroom with a laugh. He stumbled into your small bathroom and found the spare toothbrush you bought for him. As he quickly brushed his teeth, he ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying to tame the bedhead to no avail. After he rinsed, he wet both his hands and ran his fingers through his hair a few times, slicking his curls back to make himself look more presentable.
When he was satisfied, he met you out in your kitchen, your face buried in your phone as you furiously texted your family. You glanced up at him and did a double take when you saw his hair.
"Oh, I like that look," you said lowly, reaching out a small hand to gently touch his wet hair, and he grinned. "It's not fair. If I were hungover as shit, I would look like road kill, and here you are looking more handsome than ever," you told him, pecking a kiss to his lips before grabbing your bag and heading to the door.
"You must've seen some real pretty roadkill if you think that," he told you, following you out the door and draping an arm around your shoulders as you headed to the elevator. "Want me to drive?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind," you said, handing him your car keys before tapping away on your phone again. "My mom's telling me where we should park."
Joel courteously dropped you off at the hospital entrance while he parked your car, giving you the opportunity to find your parents quicker. You saw your dad waiting for you by the front desk, his head tilted down towards his phone.
"Dad!" you called out, and he looked up at you with a smile. Slipping his phone in his pocket, he bent down and enveloped you in a big bear hug. Your dad, Paul, was a big guy and might come off intimidating to most who didn't know him, but at the heart of it all he was a huge softie.
"How's she doing?" you asked, pulling away while he stabbed the button for the elevator.
"She's doin' alright. Little nervous but she's ready."
When you noticed the elevator about to reach the lobby, you glanced behind you. "Wait! Joel's parking the car," you said, and his eyebrows rose a bit in surprise.
"Oh, didn't realize Joel's here," he replied, glancing at his watch, and you immediately felt the heat creeping up your neck.
"He was out with his friends and brother last night. He had too much to drink and couldn't drive so he walked to my place," you told him, which wasn't exactly a lie. When you saw Joel walking through the lobby, his hands shoved in his pockets and his hair slicked back, you felt the same flutter in your stomach you felt every time you saw him and you prayed it would never go away.
Joel's gaze landed on you first and then your dad's, giving you both warm smiles as he approached.
"Hey Paul, early congratulations are in order," he said, shaking your dad's hand just as the elevator dinged behind you.
"Thanks, Joel," he replied, clapping him on the back and following you into the elevator. "Heard you had a fun night last night."
Joel's eyes went wide and the blood drained from his face as his gaze darted back and forth between you both.
"The bar. With Tommy and them," you reminded him, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.
"Oh, yeah. Too much fun. Feelin' it today," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Tommy met a girl, though. Got her number, if I recall, so maybe that'll get him off my back. Can't drink the way I used to."
"A girl? That's great. Maybe y'all can double date or somethin'," your dad said, stepping through the open elevator doors when you reached labor and delivery. "Now she's only allowed two visitors plus Josh, so why don't you go back and we'll swap out after a while. It's room 663."
"Okay," you said, turning to Joel. "I'll be back soon, I just want to check on her-"
"Take your time," he told you, kissing the top of your head. "I'll get us some coffee and somethin' to eat."
You smiled in relief and hurried past the swinging doors, eager to see your sister.
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12:26pm
The strong, over-caffeinated coffee Joel drank managed to quell his nasty hangover. You had swapped out with your dad once already, gratefully accepting the breakfast he bought while you updated him on your sister's status. From what he gathered, her water broke but she wasn't dilated enough yet. It had been quite a few years, but Joel remembered when Sarah was born and how long it took. When his ex went into labor, they both thought they had to rush to get to the hospital, assuming the baby would arrive quickly but it ended up taking a day and a half before Sarah was actually born.
"You don't have to stay, you know," you told him after a few hours. "I know this is boring and there's nothing to do. I'm sure you have things to do at home-"
"I wanna be with you," he said, cutting you off. "If I went home I'd just be sittin' around wonderin' what you're doin', so I think I'll stay if that's alright by you."
You gave him a shy smile and looked away, and goddamnit you looked so beautiful every time he made you blush.
The double doors swung open and your dad emerged, holding out his arms to his sides with a smile.
"Still the same," he announced, and both your faces fell. "Tag, you're it," he teased, tapping you on the shoulder before you stood up.
"I'll be back in a while," you told Joel, stretching your arms a bit. "But seriously, if you want to go home it's totally fine. You can take my car and my parents can take me back."
"I told you, I ain't goin' anywhere," he said firmly, "now go be with you sister, she needs you."
You smiled and blew him a quick kiss before pushing past the doors. He looked over at Paul, who was scrolling on his phone, and took a deep breath.
It was now or never, and he might as well do it while your dad was in a good mood.
"Hey, Paul, can I talk to you 'bout somethin'?"
Paul looked up and clicked the button on the side of his phone, the screen going dark.
"Sure. What's on your mind, Joel?"
Joel knew Paul long before he even knew you. He met your parents when he was hired to build their house, which took a very long time and was a lot of hard work, but he loved being able to bring to life what someone could only dream about. He always got along well with your parents, so much so that they invited him to their Christmas party, which was when he met you and his life changed forever.
And even though he knew your father well and he had no reason to be nervous, he still felt butterflies in his stomach as he thought about what he wanted to say.
"Well, it's 'bout your daughter," he began, his fingers fidgeting anxiously in his lap as he struggled to maintain eye contact.
"Bucky? Everythin' okay?" Paul asked, suddenly looking concerned. Joel quickly shook his head.
"She's great. Nothin' bad. We're... great," he stammered, taking another deep breath. "I love her very much. I'd do anythin' for her, I hope y'know that," he said, hoping his voice didn't tremble like he thought it did. "We're plannin' on movin' in together when her lease is up in a few months, I think she told you," Joel said, looking up at Paul questioningly. He nodded slowly, his brow beginning to furrow a bit.
"Yeah, she told us. We think that's great, Joel. You know we love havin' you part of the family," he told him, and Joel felt a bit of relief when he saw his opening.
"That's exactly what I wanted to talk 'bout, actually," he said, and Paul tilted his head to the side, confused. "'Bout bein' part of the family, that is. I-I'd like to ask her to marry me - with your blessing, of course," Joel said hurriedly, "and not straight away. I was thinkin' when she moved in I might ask her then. I know it's soon, I know we've only been datin' a few months, but Paul, I gotta be honest with you, she's the one for me," Joel said, the words tumbling out now as he watched Paul's eyes go soft. "I've never been more sure 'bout anythin' in my life. And I promise I'll take care of her, I'll love her and give her whatever she needs. I'll never do wrong by her, you got my word-"
"Joel," Paul chuckled, waving his hands in the air. "Joel, that's enough. You don't gotta sell yourself to me. I know you're a good man, I see how happy you make my daughter, I ain't blind. 'Course you have our blessing. Christ, nothin' would make us happier."
"Really?" he breathed as a smile stretched across his face, his hands trembling now in his lap.
"Yes, really. The hell you so nervous for?"
"Well, figured you'd be upset 'bout her last engagement and how we haven't known each other long," Joel admitted, running a shaky hand through his hair.
Paul shook his head and made a face. "That last guy never even had the guts to ask me. I had a feelin' it wouldn't last, but I had hoped my little girl would be the one to end it on her terms. But it all worked out, anyway. She met you," he said, grabbing Joel's shoulder and giving it a firm shake. "You might've only known her for a few months but I've known you years and I know the type of man you are. I see the way you look at each other. Reminds me of when I met Martha," Paul said, his eyes growing misty. "When you know, you know."
Joel smiled and blinked back tears of his own. "Yeah, you're right. When you know, you know."
Paul leaned forward and pulled Joel into a tight hug, squeezing the air from his lungs in the process but he didn't care. He had your father's blessing, that was the first hurdle. Now all he had to do was find enough courage to ask you to marry him one day.
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5:48pm
"You havin' fun, babygirl?" Joel asked into his phone as he paced the halls of the hospital.
"So much fun, Dad. It's supposed to be warm out tonight so we're all gonna sleep outside in tents and have a campfire."
"Now why are you excited to sleep outside with your friends but when I wanna go camping you always say no?" he said, smirking when he heard her groan.
"Because I'm still within walking distance of indoor plumbing," she shot back, making him chuckle softly.
"Yeah, well, y'got me there," he conceded, his eyes flicking up when he noticed you walk through the doors, scanning the lobby looking for him. He held up his hand and when you saw him, your mouth stretched out into a tired smile.
"How's Cassie?"
"Nothin' new but I think I might be gettin' an update here in a second," he said, eyeing you as you hurried up to him. "You call me if you need anythin' at all, alright?"
"I will."
"Okay, love you," he said right as you caught up to him.
"Love you too, Dad."
He dropped the phone from his ear and slid it back into his pocket. "How's she doin'?"
"She's getting ready to push!" you said excitedly, grabbing his arm as you bounced on the balls of your feet. "I was just giving them a few minutes of privacy but she said she wants me to hold one of her hands. The doctors said you and Dad can wait outside the room if you want," you told him, pulling him back down the hall towards your father, who was already waiting with a nervous look on his face.
"How're you holdin' up?" Joel asked Paul, who looked paler the closer he got. You let go of his arm and he followed you down the hospital corridor, making sure to stay out of the way of the passing medical staff.
"I'm 'bout to be a grandpa, Joel. I'm feelin' every emotion there is right now," Paul said with a nervous laugh.
Even though his hangover was still a very fresh memory, he still said, "why don't we get a drink later on and celebrate? Help take the edge of a bit."
Paul clapped Joel's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze and making him wince, but Paul didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on a door at the end of the hall. "That sounds like a plan, son."
Joel choked up for a moment at the term of endearment but quickly swallowed it down. This was about Cassie and Josh, not him. But still, the fact Paul felt comfortable calling him son during such a pivotal moment in his life touched him.
"Okay, I'll come out and let you know how it goes," you said, turning around to face the two of them. It melted Joel's heart, the way you were so happy and excited for your sister.
"Alright Bucky, you take care of our girl," your dad said, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You turned to Joel and he shot you a wink.
"Go on, now," he told you with a smile, and you gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before disappearing inside the room.
It took nearly one more hour, but after hearing a lot of screaming and crying from your sister, there was a brief silence before the telltale sound of a newborn's cries filtered through the door. Joel's eyes widened when he looked at Paul, who immediately began to tear up. Joel grinned and patted him on the back but he was quickly yanked into a bear hug so tight he wondered how he didn't fracture a rib.
"Congrats," Joel said, his voice a little pained, but Paul didn't notice. He was far too excited as tears of joy spilled down his cheeks.
Josh stumbled through the door wearing a disposable apron and cap, looking shellshocked as he yanked off a blue mask. Paul grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug, making his eyes bug out of his head even more and Joel had to stifle a chuckle.
"It's a girl," Josh said, a smile stretching across his face now. Paul laughed and wiped away his tears while Joel shook Josh's hand and congratulated him. "They're both doing great. Cassie's great. The baby's great. Perfect. Oh my god, I'm a dad," he said, suddenly bending over, his hands gripping his knees as he breathed deeply.
Paul laughed and rushed into the room, leaving just Joel and Josh in the hallway.
"You alright?" he asked Josh, putting a hand on his shoulder to help steady him.
"Yeah. It just kinda hit me all at once, y'know?" he said weakly, falling limply into a chair. "How'd you do it, man? Weren't you freaking out?"
"Oh, yeah. I still freak out," Joel admitted, sitting down next to Josh. "Havin' a girl is hard. They are unpredictable and independent but also so amazing and strong."
"You got any advice for being a girl-dad?" he asked, half joking.
Joel grinned and leaned his head against the wall as he scratched his chin and thought about it.
"Encourage her. Let her be herself. Let her paint your nails and make mistakes. Play tea parties with her and listen to her. Don't lie to her. Do your best. Show her love. Make sure she sees how you and Cassie love each other. Treat her with respect, but don't assume anythin'. Wear the tiara. Wear the boa. Just... be there. Because a father's love for his daughter is special. Look at Paul," Joel said, stretching his arm out towards the closed door. "He hasn't left this building all day. He raised two beautiful, smart, well rounded women who he would go to war for but also lets them be themselves. Lets them make their own choices and doesn't hold 'em back. Just... love her, man," Joel said, tilting his head in Josh's direction. He had been quietly listening to everything he said, absorbing every word before taking a deep breath.
"Thanks, Joel," Josh said with tears in his eyes. "I mean it. Thanks."
Joel slapped him on the back with a wide smile.
"No problem. Now get in there and help your wife."
Josh stood up and looked down at Joel. "Aren't you coming?"
Joel stood and followed Josh inside the crowded room, which was currently being vacated by the hospital staff so everyone could bond with the new family member.
But what Joel wasn't expecting to see was you holding the newborn in your arms, seated in a chair next to Cassie's bed as you gazed down lovingly at your niece.
Something tugged inside Joel's chest when he saw you. Something foolish and primal and earth-shattering. You looked up at him and smiled.
"Look, Joel. Meet Anna," you said, your gaze finding hers once again, and Joel looked at you, praying his face didn't give away what he was feeling in that moment.
"She's gorgeous," he whispered to Cassie, then went to stand behind your chair so he could admire Anna's sleeping face.
Paul was snapping pictures while Martha was on her phone talking to extended family, letting them know the good news. Josh pressed a kiss against Cassie's lips and murmured what a great job she did, but all Joel could see was you and Anna. You looked so at ease as you cradled her in your arms, like you were made for it and he felt his throat close up.
You finally handed her back to her mother but made sure to press a quick kiss against her forehead first.
"We should probably let you guys get to know each other," you said, giving Cassie a half hug.
"Thank you so much, Bucket," Cassie said softly, looking down at her baby. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for being here, Joel," she added, and he smiled.
"'Course I'd be here. You're like family to me," he said sincerely, and she gave him a tired smile.
You blew Cassie a kiss and gave your parents a hug before grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.
"Well that was an unexpected way to spend a Saturday," you said, wrapping your arm around his bicep as he lead you to the elevator.
A flurry of thoughts swam through his head as he walked you through the parking garage to your car, but he kept them all to himself. It was an eventful day, you were right. You just had no idea how much.
"Did you want to stay the night?" you asked him when he parked your car, and he felt the butterflies swirl in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to spend every second with you, but he made a promise.
"Yeah, but I mighta made plans," he confessed, and you gave him a look as you stepped out of the passenger side of your car. "Told your dad I'd take him for a drink to celebrate," he told you, and you rolled your eyes.
"After last night? You're willing to drink again so soon?" you teased as he walked you into the lobby of your building.
"Just one drink. Then I'll be back, and this time I won't sneak up on you," he murmured, pressing a slow kiss against your soft lips.
"Better not, or else I might not be so nice this time," you whispered against his lips, making him groan.
"You were real nice," he said lowly, his cock already twitching in his jeans. "Give me a couple hours and I'll return the favor."
"Is that a promise, Mr. Miller?" you asked playfully just as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
And maybe it was because he was so tired, or maybe all of the emotions from the day were building up inside him like a dam ready to burst, but the urge to ask you right then and there was overwhelming. He had never felt so strongly about anything in his whole life. But he had to be careful, especially after your reaction to his comment about the ring. He had to be patient, he had to think about the timing. He had to do it right.
"Yes, ma'am," he finally replied, his tone so serious it made you grin.
You stepped backwards onto the empty elevator, holding his gaze and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you winked.
"I'll be waiting."
Then the doors slid shut, leaving him paralyzed. He had to fight the urge to race up the stairwell and meet you at your door, all breathless and needy, but he forced himself to exit your building. As he strolled down the street, heading towards where he parked his truck the night before and silently praying he didn't get a ticket, he thought about the hold you had over him. It was powerful and intense. Alluring and confounding. Debilitating and staggering.
And he absolutely loved it.
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
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steddiecameraroll · 6 months
Text
both POVs on ao3
Eddie comes to a skidded stop outside the sailor themed ice cream shop. His Sam Goody bag slams into his shin from the sudden movement.
“Ow, shit.” He winces but tries to ignore the pointed pain from the corner of one of his brand new tapes poking his leg, and stares ahead at what he imagines must be an illusion.
Steve The Hair Harrington has his arm deep into some chocolate looking concoction, and suddenly Eddie wants to taste it. He’s not even much of an ice cream guy but this he cannot pass up.
Like a siren’s song, the little polyester shorts the sailor man is wearing calls to Eddie. He wonders if he could slide both of his hands up through the bottom of the legs.
Eddie steps into the bright lights and his ears fill with some ridiculous theme music. He wonders if Steve has ever tried to disembowel the sound system. Eddie would help him if he wanted assistance.
“Ahoy there!”
Eddie stands back watching Steve interact with a group of old classmates. He recognizes the young women from a couple of his classes last semester. Steve’s clearly flirting with them and missing by a mile.
Eddie hates to admit, even to himself, watching Steve fumble brings a smidge of joy to his heart. He may not be delusional and think that means he has a chance with Steve, but it does give him some kind of weird twinkle of hope anyway.
Right after the gaggle of women walk away, Eddie sees Steve lower his head and bang it gently on the countertop causing his adorable little hat to slip from his head.
“Buck up sailor boy,” Eddie grabs Steve’s hat and spins it around his finger.
Steve jolts and stands up, gawking at Eddie. “Munson? What are you…that’s my hat.” Steve snatches the regulated uniform accessory from Eddie’s finger and clutches it in his hand.
Eddie lets his eyes drag down the part of Steve’s body not hidden by the countertop, before flicking back to Steve’s face.
“Love the outfit, by the way. Really finishes off the whole ambiance.” Eddie wiggles his fingers around the space emphasizing the environment.
“I know it’s ridiculous, dude. You don’t have to rub it in.” Steve puts his hand on his hip and cocks his weight onto the opposite foot.
“Oh no, you misconstrue, my good man.” Eddie leans further into his hands coming closer to Steve’s face. “If I’m rubbing anything, it wouldn’t be your uniform.”
Eddie enjoys watching a beautiful blush rush up Steve’s neck onto his cheeks, before he diverts his attention onto the display case of flavors, giving Steve a moment to collect himself.
“What do you recommend?” Eddie runs his fingertip lazily across the glass.
“Um…” Steve takes a quick breath before putting on his customer service smile. “The USS Butterscotch is a favorite or the cherry’s jubilee. What do you usually get when you eat ice cream?”
“Wanna know a secret?” Eddie playfully whispers while leaning over the case.
“Um, ok.” Steve leans in closer.
“I’m more of a salty treat kinda man,” he winks, surprising himself with the weird level of confidence he’s slipped into.
Steve furrows his brows before leaning away and nervously scratching the back of his neck. He tries to chuckle in response as if understanding what Eddie’s implying but Eddie can tell Steve has no idea what he’s talking about.
“Well, then maybe-um-a parfait? Peanut butter? Or nuts…something with nuts?”
Eddie bites on his bottom lip trying to stifle a childish giggle keeping his eyes on the naive, adorable, sailor man. When Steve’s words finally register in his brain he awkwardly swallows hard, and shuffles on his feet trying to busy himself with something behind the counter.
“I could go for some nuts.” Eddie leans on his arms over the case. “What kinda nuts do you have, Stevie?”
“Um, just- y’know- normal ones. What kind do you like?” Eddie tracks the slow swipe of Steve’s tongue across his bottom lip.
Eddie lowers his voice before responding. “I’m sure I’d like anything you give me, captain.”
“Jesus,” Steve quietly huffs. “Uh, how about our peanut butter brickle topped with our candied almonds?”
Eddie keeps his eyes on Steve tracking his awkward movements behind the counter. Steve spins his scooper mindlessly in his palm, trying to channel his nervous energy.
“Sounds delicious. I’ll have one of those. Is there a show or anything I get with my treat?”
“A show?” Steve asks while grabbing a parfait cup from the stack on the countertop.
“Was just curious if there’s some kind of song or dance you have to perform in this adorable little outfit. Y’know, like that one restaurant in Chicago, Ed Debevic’s?”
Steve scrunches his nose and slides open the glass case. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Really? It’s this 50’s diner place where the staff are dicks. Nothing? Really?”
Steve shakes his head while reaching his arm deep into the ice cream tub. Eddie lowers his face to watch Steve through the glass. He wonders how sticky Steve is at the end of a shift.
“Is there a shower back there?”
“What?”
"In the back. Was just curious if you go home sticky or not."
"Um...no, I mean yes I'm generally pretty sticky at the end of my shift, but there's no shower...in the back. There's not really anything back there. Only a table and some safety posters, a white board that Robin shames me with." He trails off and Eddie wishes he could see this white board.
"Shames you? Robin...?" He has a hunch but isn't sure.
"Buckley? From school."
"Yeaaahhh, that's what I thought. Good for her." He means it.
Steve scrunches his face while finishing off the disgustingly sweet display of tasty deliciousness.
“Anything else I can get for you?” Steve gives Eddie his best customer service smile while setting the ice cream on top of the case.
A wicked grin spreads across Eddie’s face. “Naw I’m good. Unless… there’s something available that’s not on the menu.”
Eddie knows Steve is naive. Has never once picked up on his blatant flirting over the years, or at least doesn’t let it rattle him. But this utter display of fantasy is rotting away at Eddie’s resolve, and he’s seconds away from asking to suck on Steve’s sticky fingers.
He leans in front of the register and looks up at Steve through his eyelashes.
Pretty pretty boy.
“Um,” Steve looks around the empty restaurant, and then glances at something over Eddie’s head before turning his attention back. “Y-yeah, there is actually.”
Eddie thinks maybe he’s about to choke on his tongue as he attempts to swallow, waiting for Steve to continue.
“It’s in the back. Um, in the-in the break room. Wanna see it? Maybe?”
The fluorescent lighting above makes the beautiful shade of pink Steve’s cheeks are, into a warm glow. Eddie thinks he might be hearing angels sing or maybe it’s the dumb sailor music, but whatever it is it’s definitely music to his ears.
“Yeeaaah, definitely need to see it. Maybe wanna taste it even.”
Steve’s mouth is parted prettily, making Eddie wonder if his own tongue could slide between them easily.
Steve nods and bites down on his bottom lip, while motioning Eddie to follow around the opening of the countertop.
“Cool, very cool.” Steve walks backwards keeping his eyes on Eddie.
When Eddie steps behind the counter, taking in the entire outfit, he can’t control the subtle groan that emanates from his chest.
He’s gonna fuck this sailor silly.
*
They reappear 17 min later to a puddle of melted peanut butter brickle, an annoyed Erica Sinclair, and a better understanding of Eddie’s love of nuts.
Steve’s POV now both POVs on ao3
coffee? ☕️🍩💕
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deadbydad-writes · 5 months
Text
"Ex-Boyfriends Dad"
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This is a request from @miguelspookiebear. Sorry it's super late, but I do hope you enjoy it!
You thought that maybe this guy was the one, that he was the man of your dreams, that he would be the one to make the future you had dreamed about since you were twenty a reality.
For three years you had told yourself that and you believed it, until you saw him hooking up with your sister of all people.
You were heartbroken. You felt betrayed and broken. You had blocked him and broke up with him the next day after the incident, and you wouldn't even talk to your own sister.
You thought that life was over, that you would never find the guy that would be your knight in shining armor.
But maybe life would change, and you would meet the man that you so desperately dreamed of.
A few months after you had broken up with that bastard, you were in your kitchen making a cup of coffee, a frown on your face and dried tears on your cheeks as you stared at the mug in front of you until you heard a knock at your front door.
"Not him again," you groaned to yourself as you walked over to the door and opened it, expecting your ex-boyfriend to be begging for forgiveness and to take him back.
What you didn't expect was to see his father, Miguel O'Hara, to be standing there with a bouquet of roses in his hand and a small smile on his face.
"Mr. O'Hara," you said with a smile and leaned against the frame of your door. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Miguel let out a small chuckle. "Sorry I didn't warn you," he replied. "I just wanted to come over to-"
"Pick up your sons shit because he's too much of a pussy to do it himself?" You cut him off with a frown and a raised brow.
"Yes, and other things," the older male stated.
You hummed in response and looked at the box of his sons stuff and clothes, nibbling on your bottom lip as you thought about it.
"How about you come inside and I'll make you a cup of coffee," you suggested with a smile and offered him inside with a wave of your hand, which he gladly and nervously followed. Walking to the kitchen you grabbed another mug and poured coffee into it.
"I wanted to tell you that my son, the fucking estupido of a kid he is," he muttered under his breath as he took the mug with a small 'thank you'. "I kicked him out of the house until he gets his shit together."
You looked over at him and stood at the other side of the counter, looking at him and let out a sigh.
"Why'd you do that?" you asked, not making eye contact with him. "He's your kid."
Hearing the older man set his mug down and walk over to you, you felt his hand touch your shoulder and squeeze it gently.
"Because I did not raise him to treat women like that, let alone break their trust and sleep with another girl," Miguel said and put a finger under your chin, making you look up at him.
"Especially to not cheat on a girl that's as beautiful as you." You felt your cheeks heat up and a blush spread across your face at his words and the feeling of his hands holding your face like you were the most important person in his life.
Your eyes widened in shock when he had pressed his lips against yours in a gentle yet small kiss but you quickly gripped the fabric of his shirt and closed your eyes and kissed back.
Miguel growled against your lips and ran his large but gentle hands down your body and gripped your hips, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulder and moan into the kiss when he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
"Can't believe he would ever hurt a women like you," he growled as he pulled away from the kiss to press his lips against the skin of your neck, his teeth threatening to bite into the softness of your skin, causing you to let out a small moan and tilt your head to the side to give him more access.
This was wrong. The fact that you were making out with the father of your ex-boyfriend was something that shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. But you couldn't bring yourself to give a shit, not when Miguel was biting and sucking marks onto your neck.
"Miguel," you whined.
"Tell me what you want, princesa," he whispered in your ear. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."
You closed your eyes and buried your face into the crook of his neck, biting your lip in thought.
"I..I want you to touch me," you said. "Please."
Miguel growled and lifted you up so you were laying on the counter, the cool surface making you shiver lightly.
"Look at you," the older male said with a grin, his hand moving up your leg and squeezing your thigh. "Is it bad that I'm glad you're no longer with my son?"
You bit your lip as you felt his fingertips dipped under the skirt of your dress and press against your folds through your soaked panties making you let out a gasp at the feeling. He leaned down and started to kiss down your neck again, his tongue soothing the bite marks he left.
"Gonna make you feel so good, mi amor," he promised with a smile and slipped your panties down your legs and dropped them onto the kitchen floor. "Gonna make you feel better than my son ever did.
The older male rubbed your clit with the tip of his thumb and slid two fingers into your dripping cunt, making you grip the fabric of his shirt and moan against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you grinded down onto his fingers.
Miguel growled against your throat and started to thrust his fingers in and out of your cunt, his fingers pressing against the spot inside of you that made your back arch off the counter with a moan.
You knew you weren't gonna last long, not when his fingers fill you up better than anyone else has, not when he made you forget your own name with the way he whispered praises in promises into your ears.
"Miguel," you gasped out. "I...I'm not gonna last long..." The older male rubbed your clit faster and reached his free hand up to squeeze one of your breasts through the fabric of your dress.
"I want you to come for me," he said and kissed you again, this one sloppier and more messy than the first one as you moaned into the kiss. "C'mon mi vida, wanna see you fall apart on my fingers.
Just hearing his words made you come with a moan, your walls gripping his fingers as you squirted all over his hand.
Miguel pulled out his fingers and licked off your juices, moaning at the taste before pulling you back in for a messy make out session. You closed your eyes as your tongue tangled with his, groaning as you tasted yourself in his mouth.
"Such a good girl for me," Miguel whispered against your lips with a smile. "But we're not done yet." You felt a shiver run down your spine as he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom.
You thought that you were never going to meet your knight in shining armor after you broke up with your ex, but you did, and it was with someone way better than him.
And you couldn't be more happy that it was his father that made you feel more loved and cared for.
This is probably the longest thing I have ever written, when it comes to requests, but hey I enjoyed writing this and it could be better but I am just getting over being sick and I'm a little dry with the smut! But it's okay!
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