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#like i need him to get his just desserts i need him to get popped in the mouth dude.
hearts-hunger · 5 hours
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Summary: For Josh, home is where you are. | Standalone in the Cabin Fever universe
Pairings: Josh x Wife! Reader (Josh POV) | Genres: domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: a little mention of spice
A/N: I loved Josh's most recent insta caption about the stage being his ethereal living room he gets to share with us, but I also love hurt/comfort, so I made it angsty and fluffy for Josh and Baby. I hope you like it! ♡
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“The stage is your ‘ethereal living room’?”
Josh looked up from the charcuterie board he was meticulously arranging to see you on your phone, presumably scrolling through the concert pictures he’d posted half an hour ago. He smiled.
“Yeah, you know.” He tapped a row of crackers into line until they were perfect. “The shows are a place where people come together to enjoy each other’s company. Somewhere that feels like home.”
You didn’t say anything. He glanced up at you again.
“Ethereal means — ”
“I know what ethereal means, Josh.” Your face went pink. “It’s just not usually a word you use to describe a living room.”
He was a little surprised at your tone; it bordered on sounding upset, but maybe that was just because he’d embarrassed you, though he certainly hadn’t meant to.
“I was just trying to help, baby,” he said gently. He tried for some humor. “And you’re right, it’s not usually a word you’d use to describe a living room. Definitely not our living room in the state it’s been in lately.”
That had the opposite of the intended effect, and he wished he could take it back when your face fell. “You don’t think it’s ready for tonight?”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s ready now. Everything looks great. I just meant that we haven’t been as good about tidying every night, so it’s been a wreck recently.”
“Right,” you said, but it was doubtful and tense. “Well, I tried to get most of it done while you were at work — ”
“I know, baby.” He felt that he’d botched this conversation pretty badly, but you also seemed much more sensitive than you usually were. “It was a huge help, and I’m grateful that you did most of the cleaning when we made the mess together.”
“I didn’t make it quite as ethereal as a concert, though,” you said, and your laugh was a little strained.
He wondered at your fixation on the wording of his caption, but maybe you were trying to make it into a running joke.
“The Kiszkas wouldn’t know what to do with a living room too perfect for this world,” he teased. He set the board on the other side of the island and went hunting for the wine glasses. “Could you grab me the corkscrew, honey?”
You did as he said, but there was a pensiveness to your body language that made him worry. You’d been in a great mood all day, his happy bubbly girl, spending the day shopping and tidying and preparing for the dinner party you were hosting. Jake, Sparrow, Sam, and Danny were due to arrive any time now, and Josh had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you after work getting your home ready for your family. He didn’t know what had brought on this sudden change in mood, and he racked his brain for what could have caused it and what he could do to fix it.
“Dessert smells really good,” he said sincerely. “Did you end up putting the strawberries in there too?”
You handed him the corkscrew and stood uneasily as he opened the Riesling, toying with the sleeve of your pretty dress.
“No,” you said quietly. “It’s just regular blackberry cobbler. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
A frown tugged at his features. “I don’t,” he said. He popped the cork out.  “Of course I don’t mind. That sounds great, honey.”
“It’s not very exciting,” you said apologetically.
He didn’t know where this was going. Surely you weren’t upset about the dessert you’d made, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what you really were upset about. He decided to stick with his usual strategy, which was mostly just continuing to be sweet to you. 
“I don’t need exciting, baby,” he said, kissing your cheek. “It’ll be perfect. I can’t wait to try it.”
Working together, but without your usual quips and jokes back and forth, you and Josh put the finishing touches on dinner before the doorbell rang. Josh put his dishtowel over his shoulder and went to welcome your guests in, and he was happy that you joined him.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he said. “I love that dress on you.”
You touched a hand to the neckline of your summery black dress patterned with little red cherries. “Oh, well, it’s only a sundress. But... thank you.” The usual enthusiastic enjoyment of his compliments he loved hearing was nowhere in your voice. He wished he could wait to open the door and ask what was bothering you, but the doorbell was now accompanied by rhythmic knocking the type of which only a drummer could deliver. 
“I’m telling you,” Josh said, trying one last-ditch attempt to coax a smile out of you. “This ethereal living room business — it’s better if it’s just our plain old living room with these hooligans.”
The smile you gave him was clearly only for his sake, not even reaching your eyes. Discouraged and unable to stall any longer, he turned the door handle. 
“I didn’t mean to push this on you,” you blurted. Your expression was anxious and regretful. “I’m sorry, Josh.”
By the time he’d processed what you’d said, the door was already open, and your family was coming inside full of laughter and bearing gifts of wine and appetizers and card games to play. He wanted to jump right into the festive atmosphere his brothers and sister-in-law brought with them, but he was completely preoccupied by your blurted-out apology for... what? What could you have to be sorry for? He looked across the foyer and felt his heart twist when he saw your strained smile as you welcomed your family inside.
“Alright, Kiszkas,” he said with more levity than he felt. He ushered everyone into the living room, pointing out the drinks and snacks on the kitchen island. “Eat, drink, and be merry. Dinner’s almost ready.” 
He asked Danny to watch the sauce simmering on the back of the stove, wanting to try and get a moment with you before dinner. He left Sparrow and his brothers chatting and snacking in the kitchen and found you in the dining room, double-checking the place settings you’d already made perfect an hour before.
“Baby,” he said gently. “What did you mean, you’re sorry for ‘pushing this on me’? Did you mean dinner?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “I should have asked you before I planned it.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “You did ask me. Didn’t you?”
“I don’t think so,” you said sheepishly. “I think I just told you I was doing it, and you went along with it.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t mind,” he said sincerely. “I’m glad you planned it.” He debated giving you space or pressing a little deeper, and he risked the latter. He came around the table to the side where you stood.
“I’m glad we’re all spending time together,” he said. He took your hands in his. “I’d like to enjoy it with you, too, but I wouldn't be happy if you were unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy,” you lied.
“Baby,” he chided tenderly. “You’ve been out of sorts for a little bit now, and I want to help you get back into sorts. I just don’t know how.”
You looked up at him. “Are you sure you’re happy with... all this?”
He raised a brow. “Dinner? Or, like, the universe as a whole?”
You sighed. “No, I mean... do you like being home? Maybe it’s a little lackluster after touring.”
“That could not be farther from the truth,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. Was that all that was bothering you? 
“Silly girl,” he said with a smile. “Of course I like being home. I love being home.”
“But it’s... it’s just... me,” you said lamely. “Just our house.”
“I’m still not seeing a problem,” he said, affectionately teasing. “I love you, and I love our house, especially when it has all the people we love in it drinking all our wine.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment. Then — “Are you sure?”
For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He felt a surprisingly sharp flash of hurt at your doubt. He tamped it down to focus on you, his sweet wife, who apparently felt that his homecoming had been spent wishing he was back out on the road.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he finally said. He cupped your face in his hands, reading something sad and needful in your expression but unable to figure out how to fix it. “I love being home with you, baby. I miss you so much when I’m away. You don’t know that?”
He saw your eyes sparkle with tears and wished desperately he could understand how it had gotten this bad, wished he could figure out how to fix it.
“Hey,” he said softly. He kissed you. “I love you. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“But it’s not — ”
“It’s perfect,” he said, gently cutting across your protest. “And though I love the way you open our home to our family, even just being with you, eating takeout in our pajamas, would have been perfect too.”
You gave him a watery smile at that, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“There’s that smile,” he said tenderly. He brushed the tears from your face. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, baby. You're everything to me. You’re my heart. You know that, don’t you?”
You nodded and kissed him, and he was so happy to have helped even a little. He’d probably ask about it again, try to understand what had made you think such a thing so that you'd never have to think it again. For now, though, your family was waiting, and you seemed eager now to get back to them.
“Don't tell them I was crying,” you said, running your hands over your cheeks, trying to hide the telltale signs. “Tell them we were having a quickie or something.”
He chuckled. “I'm not sure I’m skilled enough for that to be believable, baby. Less than five minutes is a lot to ask.” He kissed your cheek. “And I won’t tell them you were crying. That’s between you and me.” To his way of thinking, a husband's job was to protect his wife at her most vulnerable, not to expose her. These moments between you, the words and soft touches and intimacy you shared — those were just for the two of you, and Josh treasured the privilege of being the one you shared yourself with when you needed a little extra love.
You took his hand, and when he was sure you were ready, he led you back out to where your family waited. 
He saw you return to your usual self as the night went on, and he loved to hear your laugh and watch your smile light up your face as you spent time with your family. Sam, Danny, Jake, and Sparrow — they never failed to bring warmth and light with them wherever they went, and Josh knew that there was no better medicine than their terrible jokes and affectionate bickering and safe, easy love. You were always beautiful, but joy made you ravishing; you shone as brightly as the sun when you were happy, and he felt a weight come off his shoulders as you came back to yourself.
After dinner, you found a spot on the couch; as Josh went to fix glasses of wine for both of you, he watched the drama unfolding in the living room. Catty corner to you, Sam and Jake were playing guitar, Sam casually and Jake with characteristic seriousness; Sparrow sat perched on the arm of Sam’s chair, and Danny sat on the floor.
“Watch him,” Danny said, slipping a hair tie from his wrist and aiming it like a slingshot at Jake. “I bet he won’t stop playing.”
“No, Danny!” Sparrow giggled around the straw stuck in her wine glass. “That would be so mean to my poor Jakey.”
“He wont’ even notice,” Danny said, unable to hide an impish smile. “Watch.”
He shot the hair tie at Jake, and it popped him on the forehead before tumbling down the guitar and landing on the floor. Jake didn’t miss a beat.
Danny and Sparrow dissolved in uproarious laughter, and Jake merely rolled his eyes with a telltale smile.
“You’re all idiots,” he said.
“Not me!” Sam protested. He watched Jake’s fingers, invested in learning the tune now. “I’m trying to play with you, but geez, can you dial it down from rock god so I can figure it out?”
Jake slowed his playing, talking Sam through the notes, and good-naturedly accepted a kiss on his forehead from Sparrow. Danny tried to find the hair tie again and hit Sam with it when he did, earning himself a nudge with Sam’s foot that made Danny laugh and lean his head against Sam’s knee in apology.
Josh brought your drinks over to the couch and handed yours to you. “For you, baby.”
You accepted it gratefully and patted the spot next to you. “Thanks, honey. Come sit with me.”
He did, draping one arm over the back of the couch behind you, pleased when you scooched closer to him. He gave you a sweet, chaste kiss.
“Feeling better, baby?” he asked gently.
You couldn’t help a dull blush, but you gave him a bashful smile. “Yes. I’m sorry I was so... tearful earlier.”
“That’s alright, honey. Would you mind telling me what it was that got you so upset?”
You ran the pad of your thumb over the bottom of your wineglass. He was patient as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.
“It’s silly,” you said finally. “You’ll either laugh or be annoyed that I made such a big deal about it.”
He considered that. You usually took things in your stride, and neither of you made a habit of being offended or upset over trivial, accidental things. Whatever it was, it had hurt you, and he would validate that feeling no matter what it turned out to be.
“I promise I won’t laugh,” he said. “And I don't think I’ll be annoyed.” He really just wanted to know what it was, and he told you so.
Your nervous, wandering fingers found his, and he was content to let you play with his wedding ring. You brushed your thumb over the shiny gold surface.
“It was your caption,” you said. “You know, for those pictures you posted.”
He was bemused for a moment. “Oh. Really?”
“Yeah,” you admitted quietly. “There’s no greater feeling in the world than returning to the stage. It is my ethereal living room. A place where things feel lighter than air. I love you.”
If anyone had asked him to recite from memory the caption he’d written himself, he couldn't have done it. The fact that you knew it word for word told him you must have been saying it over and over again in your head since you’d read it.
He thought of the wording in light of your feelings and saw how it could have hurt you. It had been their first show back after a long break spent at home, and while you were in your plain old living room at home and missing him, he’d apparently been away in a much better living room doing much more exciting and wonderful things without you. Of course he hadn’t really been comparing a concert to the home he shared with you — it was only an Instagram caption, after all, and not a serious commentary on his life. But even though he felt it was reasonable for you to have known that, he also knew that sometimes the heart wasn’t reasonable.
He twined his fingers with yours. “Sweet baby,” he said. “I’m sorry it hurt you. It wasn’t my intention at all. I don’t know if it helps, but I wasn’t thinking about our real life living room when I wrote that. I just thought it sounded clever.”
“I know,” you said. You gave him a wobbly smile. “It was clever. It’s sweet. And the fans deserve a little love note from you. I just...”
“You just missed me,” he said, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “I know, baby. I missed you too.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of it. I could have just been honest that I was upset. But really, I should have just taken it like you meant it and not started catastrophizing, thinking you weren’t happy at home.”
“Well, sometimes our imaginations run away with us,” he said, patient and kind. “For the record, I am happy at home with you, baby. You in your old sundress making regular blackberry cobbler is the kind of thing I dream about when I'm away from you. And if I could only have one, I’d pick our less-than-ethereal living room and be glad to share it with you for as long as I lived.”
You touched his cheek. “Why are you so sweet to me?”
“Because I love you very much,” he said simply. He kissed you. “Tell me you know that.”
“I know that,” you said softly, tenderly. “Of course I know that. I love you very much too.”
He kissed you again, taking his time, drawing you closer to him. You tasted like sweet wine and sounded so pretty when your breath caught, your fingers brushing through his curls, your heartbeat light and fast under his hands, almost ethereal.
From the other side of the living room, there was a vague commotion and contagious laughter from Sparrow and his brothers. 
“Should we check on them?” you asked, your voice muffled and smiley as you kissed him.
He chuckled. “They’re fine. Hush and let me kiss you.”
You did, and when you threw your arms around his neck to pull him even closer, he decided you weren’t ethereal after all. The two of you together, surrounded by the ones you loved, laughter and joy and music filling your home — it was something better than ethereal, something earthy and imperfect and steady. For all he loved his work, this right here was exactly what he wanted.
“I love you, Mrs. Kiszka,” he said gently.
You smiled and set everything right in his world. “I love you too, Joshy.”
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@wideminded-dreamer and @spark-my-nature were particularly excited for this one so hey here you go <3
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mugentakeda · 21 days
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omg are u an iroh hater?? IROH HATERS UNITEE i hate that old man
well. i am an iroh hater. but also its actually that iroh is one of my favorite characters of all time. however comma i specifically like iroh because hes a moderate to severe piece of shit and a medium bad uncle. i love how he has a “facade” to dismantle. i love how he has traits outside of being zukos uncle while at the same time the way he parents zuko is obviously connected to the kind of guy he is and the way his stupid brain works. i dont think iroh would be half as memorable as a character as he is if he was truly just the do gooding all wise old man that people perceive him as.
i hate how the writers and fandom treat him like a hoity toity paragon of virtue that was done wrong by zuko and azula and whatever as if hes not a grown ass man thats done everything they did in canon but probably several times over and maybe even worse because hes like. in his 50s-60s and the siege of ba sing se is definitely not the only thing on his track list. i believe in elder abuse when its iroh i think azula shooting him in the chest was frankly hilarious and i think zuko turning on iroh for azula was something iroh had no right to be surprised by and i also think he owed zuko an apology in turn during sozins comet.
i like how hypocritical he is. i like how he continuously misunderstands zuko. i like how even after his so called spiritual journey or whatever that he still sometimes fails to recognize his own behavior and it in turn negatively effects his relationship with zuko because he keeps pushing morals and ideals onto zuko, when he doesnt even fully adhere to those morals and ideals himself. i like how he hates azula despite the facts that 1. shes 14 2. ozai is her dad 3. shes literally his mini me in so many ways. hes elusive and wobbly with morals when he really shouldnt be considering hes trying to nurture the most unstable teenage boy in the whole world.
but like at the same time i also deeply love zuko and azula so i get deeply frustrated with him on their behalf. everytime i watch book three and analyze his and zukos interactions i wanna bang my head against a wall until i die
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deadsetobsessions · 16 days
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.6
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7]
Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”
“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”
“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.
Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”
“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.
“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”
“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”
Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”
Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.
“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”
“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”
“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.
They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.
“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.
“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.
“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”
“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”
Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.
“Hey, you live near here, right?”
Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.
“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”
Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.
“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”
Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!
Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”
“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”
Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”
“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”
Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”
Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”
Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”
What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”
“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”
“Uh-huh.”
“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”
Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?
“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”
“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”
Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”
——
Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.
“We’ve done stupider things.”
“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”
“Agreed.”
Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.
Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.
Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.
One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.
Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.
“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.
“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”
“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.
Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”
“No problem.”
Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.
Timsy
[5 nin]
Nin
Nin
Nin
Min
Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Alright.”
Danny texted back an okay.
Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.
“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.
“Damn, bro. You good?”
“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!
“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”
A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.
“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”
“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.
“Sorry…” Tim apologized.
“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”
“Do you really pay taxes?”
Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”
“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.
“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”
Tim stared.
——
“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.
Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.
——
“How did you die?”
Phantom snarled and disappeared.
Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.
“Where’d he go?”
“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”
——
Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.
“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.
“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.
Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.
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appocalipse · 1 month
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that guy ⊹ steve harrington
summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.
It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.
To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.
You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.
"Hi."
You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"
"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."
A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.
How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?
You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.
"So...not the one, I take it?"
Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.
"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"
The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."
Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.
"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."
"She does."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."
"At least you have one."
He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"
You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.
What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.
Until it wasn't.
"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."
"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."
Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"
You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."
"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"
Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.
Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.
"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."
"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.
Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"
"You...don't know him," you hedge.
"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."
"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."
Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."
The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.
You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."
"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.
You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?
You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.
"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."
Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.
The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.
No, you aren't going to cry.
This is stupid.
You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.
When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.
You don't have to look up to know that it's him.
"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.
"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.
"You look just fine to me."
You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."
He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.
"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.
You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.
"I should've never asked. That was selfish."
"Forget it," you say.
He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.
You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.
"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."
"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."
"Yup. Exactly. In there."
"So you said."
"Yep."
The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—
He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.
"Okay, so—"
You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.
He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."
You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.
"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"
"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."
"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"
He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.
"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."
"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.
"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."
"Steve."
"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."
"Steve—"
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.
Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.
"Is this okay?" he whispers.
"I don't—what?"
Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.
"This," Steve murmurs.
He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."
"I think I am."
His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.
"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"
You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.
"Yes. It's you."
A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.
You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."
A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.
"Oh yeah?"
"Completely."
You kiss him this time.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 18 days
Text
distant calls
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, male masturbation, mentions of p in v sex, like one use of kid, protective!rafe, one mention of violence, kinda creeper!rafe i guess??, dubcon possibly?? not really but just in case!
“hey princess.” rafe smiles when he hears immediately how excited you are.
“hi rafey!” you squeal into the phone, wishing you weren't separated by the distance, forced to talk on the phone instead of in person.
“how was your day pretty girl? what did you do?” rafe asks.
your cheeks blush red at the nickname, never getting used to it no matter how many times he uses it on you. 
“well, it was a port day!” you start to describe your cruise. you really did try to have fun with your parents, but part of you longed to have rafe around, to be back in the obx where he could look after you.
you tell rafe all about the city you stopped in, where you went to shop and a cave exploring excursion that you ended up sitting out to wait on the beach until your parents got back.
you kick your feet up and down, back and forth as you recount everything to rafe. he stays mostly quiet, only letting out a few grunts and light sighs that you suppose is his affirmation that he's listening.
you feel so lucky to have captured rafes interest. you're not dating, haven't done anything at all yet beyond rafe holding your hand when you cross the street, but you're enamored with him. rafe is just as infatuated with you, but he would be damned if he told you, preferring to just keep you smiling and beat up any guys who look at you even a second too long at parties.
“and then we got back on the ship.” you twirl a finger absentmindedly over the blanket as you lay on your stomach on the bed. 
“did you eat baby?” rafe asks, his voice sounding strained.
“yes, of course.” you nod quickly despite rafe not being able to see you. “we went to the buffet and i got a chicken salad and then i even got dessert!” your exclaim, proud of yourself. “i got vanilla ice cream with sprinkles.”
“that's good, kid.” rafe let's out another sigh that has you pressing your ear into the phone, listening intensely to hear a weird somewhat wet sound that you can't place.
“keep-” rafe gasps out. “keep talking baby. tell me about-” he has to pause again as he grunts. “tell me about tomorrow.”
you instantly lose your suspicion as you let out another squeal. “rafey, you will never believe it!” you explain how you're going snorkeling in an area where people commonly see dolphins and you're really hoping you see them on the boat ride out to the reef.
you giggle with excitement, not realizing what your sounds are doing to rafe.
many hours away, back in the outer banks, rafe is laying on his bed, back propped up against the pillows, one hand holding his phone close to his ear while his other furiously strokes his cock.
it wasn't his intention when you first got on the phone, but hearing your sweet little voice had him pulling his cock out of his shorts.
“oh wow.” rafe says, tacking on a moan at the end that he hopes is disguised by his words.
rafe knows he's going to break the second you get back from your cruise. he's going to pick you up himself and bring you to the closest bed, even if it's a shitty motel. he's not even confident he'll make it that far without needing to take you. maybe the side of the highway will do.
you continue talking away about the itinerary, not a clue in the world that rafe is so close to ending the game you've been playing, the teasing about to come to a wicked end.
“are you in your pajamas?” rafe asks, interrupting you. but he doesn't care. he needs to know more.
“yup.” you say, popping your p’s. “been in my room for like half an hour now. it's so warm even with the ac blasting i'm wearing just a t-shirt.”
it's all rafe needs, the image of you splayed out on the bed with just a t-shirt on, pushed up to reveal your bare cunt and perfect tits. rafe doesn't hold back his sounds as much as he knows he should, grunting as he cums with a final stroke, releasing all over his abs.
“you okay rafey?” you question.
“im perfect, dollface.” rafe says, sighing as he lets go off his softening cock. 
“wanna switch to facetime?” you pout. “i miss looking at you.”
rafe switches without second thought, loving to see the way your eyes widen when you realize he's in bed shirtless, eyes squinting at the sticky white substance dotting his lower half.
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ew-selfish-art · 7 months
Text
DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.
Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.
Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.
Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.
Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”
… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.
Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.
It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.
“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.
“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).
“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.
“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”
The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”
——
The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.
Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.
Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.
The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”
Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.
———
Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.
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satorusugurugurl · 1 month
Text
JJK Men: Finding Your Toys
Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, FAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,952
Warnings: Sex toys! Dirty talk, squirting, smut, videotaping, degrading, holy heck, it’s spicy
A/N: This had me feeling things; I loved writing this. Each one of these hit differently, in the best ways. 😏
MDNI!!!
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Geto Suguru:
“Suguru!” You called out from the kitchen, standing on a stepstool dusting the tops of your cabinets. “Can you do me a favor, please?”
Popping his head into the kitchen, Suguru stared at the curve of your ass peeking out from your shorts. “Anything for you.” He watched you stand higher, ass bouncing just a bit.
“Could you grab me the spring decorations? I put them on the bed.”
“On it.”
Ah, spring cleaning. A single day of the year, you deep cleaned your shared apartment. You were donating clothes and books, pretty much decluttering. Then you cleaned everything: floorboards, vents, every crevice. You always felt better after it was done. Plus, with Suguru helping you, you did it in half the time. All that was left was to put up the windchime and new throw pillows.
Then you both could relax.
Suguru was looking forward to a long shower and takeout food. Maybe if you weren’t too tired, he could have you for dessert. Before anything like that remotely happened, he needed to finish the task at hand. The bag was right where you told him it would be. Yanking it off, Suguru turned only to hear something hit the floor.
“Shit.” He cursed, watching your water bottle roll under the bed. Bending down, Suguru reached for the runaway water, only to feel the corner of an extended storage bin. With a tug, Suguru pulled the mysterious box out, his eyes widening as he stared at the transparent container.
Sex toys galore were inside. Glass dildos, clits suckers, vibrators, regular dildos. The sight nearly rocked Suguru's back as he opened the lid, glancing at the cleaned and organized toys. His cock throbbed painfully as he picked it up, putting it on the bed.
So this was what you got off with when he was on a mission. He hummed, picking up a vibrator and turning it over before grabbing a glass toy. It was long and had a large orb on the end. A g-spot toy. Did you use these to make yourself squirt? Have you squirted without him?
The first time Suguru made you squirt was when you both first started fooling around. His mouth was on your clit, fingers hammering against that spot until you screamed, soaking the sheets and his face. You freaked out at first, profusely apologizing. But your words were silent as Geto went feral, wanting to see you squirt again.
He didn't stop until you were nearly fucked out of your mind. All you could say was: “D-Didn't know I could squirt!”
“Suguru!” Your voice called out from the kitchen. “Did you find the bag?”
“Oooh, I found something alright.”
His tone had you turning your head towards his voice. “Oh? Was it the fairy lights? I thought I forgot to grab that bag at the store.” Your boyfriend hummed.
“I mean, a few of these light up.”
Okay, the man was definitely up to something. You finished up what you were doing before treading down the hall. As you turned the corner into the room, you froze like a deer in the headlights. Your toy bin was out, and Suguru was eagerly digging through it, a smug smile on his face.
“Ah!!” Bolting across the floor, you snatched the toys away, throwing them back inside before reaching for the lid.
Suguru chuckled, grabbing the lid from you and tossing it. “Oh no, you don't! We're not putting this away.” With your plan foiled, you held your arms out to block his view.
“No! It's embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” Looking at your boyfriend, your cheeks flushed as he pulled his sweats down an inch. He's showing you the bulge in his boxers. “It's fucking hot.”
The humiliation slowly began to fade, a fire replacing it. “Really?”
Suguru nodded while digging in the bin. “Yeah, I like seeing the stuff you get off with.” He pulled out your g-spot dildos and vibrator. “Trying to make yourself squirt?” The knowing smirk on his face left you a blushing mess as you glanced away, nodding in response. “Did you do it?” This time, you shook your head.
“I don't think I'm doing it right.”
You felt Suguru behind you before you heard him. “Oh? Maybe you should show me~?”
One heavy make-out session later, you sighed softly as you slowly thrust the glass toy in and out of your dripping pussy. Suguru was on his stomach between your legs, watching you like a hawk. The glass toy rubbed against the sweet spot inside of you perfectly. The sensation was almost too overwhelming.
“C-Can’t.” Your legs clenched together in an attempt to ease the throbbing.
“Yes, you can.” Hands grabbed your thighs, forcing them open. “Stop closing your legs; I can't see.”
With an almost pained whine, you kept thrusting the toy in and out of your cunt. It was tight, so tight, your walls were hugging the toy, making it difficult for you to thrust it in and out. You were getting so fed up with this. Glaring down between your legs, you chewed on your bottom lip. Every time you tried to make yourself squirt, this happened. You'd get tired and annoyed before tossing the toy to the side with an irritated growl.
Suguru was focusing less on your dripping sex and more on your face. You were frustrated, focusing too much on the task at hand. You were never going to cum like that. So he gently wrapped his hand around yours, helping you with the pacing of the thrusts. The warmth of his hand and the subtle change of pace had you tilting your head back.
“You need to relax,” Suguru whispered, pressing hot kisses against your thigh. “You’re too tense. Stop focusing so much on the mechanics of it and more on the sensation.”
Letting out a trembling exhale, you relaxed, focusing more on how the toy slid in and out of you. Frustrated groans turned into low whimpering as Suguru sucked at your skin. Fuck, this felt so good, like when Suguru would finger you. The familiar coil tightened in your abdomen. The same tightening you usually felt when you would squirt.
“Ah, ah fuck.” You arched your back off the bed, pussy throbbing around the toy. “Fuuuuck, Suguru~!”
“Yeah, feel good?” He asked, still gripping the toy. “you’re getting the hang of it. It would help if you did a little of this—” he bit his lip in concentration, curving it up more. When he did that, you saw the entire universe. A scream escaped you as the toy rubbed perfectly over your g-spot. “there it is; you just gotta curve it a bit.”
“Holy fuck! Holy fuck!” Your legs began trembling as they began to shut.
Suguru sat up, growling as he shifted his body, preventing your legs from closing completely. “I thought I told you to fuckin’ stop doing that.” All you did was whine in response. “Ah~ too fucked out of your mind to even notice? God, you're so fuckin’ cute.” The hand he had on top of yours set a fast pace. “You're almost there, don't stop~ good girl~ good fuckin girl~!” the sweet praises had you speeding your hand up, making your boyfriend chuckle in surprise. “Oh, Y/N, you want me to praise you more~? You get off on that?” When you whimpered, he cooed. “My pretty princess is doing such a good job fucking her pussy. Are you going to cum? Gonna cum for me, princess?” Your boyfriend's freehand began rubbing your clit.
“Y-Yes! Fuck ohhh fuck!” Tears formed in your eyes as Suguru grinned, letting go of your hand. Watching as you sped up, not needing his direction anymore. “I-I’m gonna, gonna cum!”
“That's it, squirt for me. Make a mess, princess. Ooh!” Suguru scoffed, sitting back as you convulsed, squirting all over the bed and him. His hand rubbed your clit, extending your orgasm, making you squirt even more. “Fuck~! Look at you, making a mess, you nasty slut.”
Suguru made sure to watch you. The way your body slowly came down, hips against the mattress as your eyes fluttered shut. The subtle way your hips jerked, trying to evade his hand, which was now drawing gentle circles around your clit.
You were so damn beautiful.
Hungry, starved eyes bore into yours, his chest heaving as you pulled the toy out. “S-Sugu?” Your timid voice didn't seem to break his trance. “Baby? You okay?” Instead of responding, Suguru answered by grabbing your hips and flipping you so your face was in your pillow. “Mmmph!”
“You did okay,” his voice was dark, gravely, “I'd give you a five out of ten.” All you could do was listen, tensing up when you felt the tip of the glass toy prodding your entrance. “But I think you need a demonstration.” You couldn't even respond as the toy was shoved back inside of you deeper than you could have managed on your own. “Maybe, just maybe, if you cum hard enough, I’ll fuck you.”
Gojo Satoru:
The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted from the oven as you pulled the hot tray out. The viral cinnamon roll cookies smelt as good as they looked. While placing the cookies on the cooling rack, you heard footsteps hurrying down the hall. Seemed as though Satoru’s nose was as keen as ever.
“Am I the best girlfriend ever or what?” You tossed the oven mitts on the counter with a fist pump. “Not only do I bake, but I suck co—” Turning on your heel, you were about to wink at your boyfriend, only to find him towering over you.
His face was flushed, and his smile was as wide as could be as he smirked. “When the hell did you get this?” Gojo dangled your pink, blue-tooth bullet vibrator in front of your face.
“Satoru!!!” You reached for the toy, only to have him yank it out of reach. “Give it back!!” Satoru shook his head, holding the toy above his head, making it impossible for you to reach it now. “Toruuu!!!”
Satoru was as excited as a child at Christmas. He was practically vibrating (not from the toy) with horny energy. What a fucking find! All you asked was for him to grab the blanket from the closet! When he pulled it out, the box to his new friend fell.
“The box said I can control it with an app?! An app on my phone?! Oh my god, this is great!” He promptly held the box with his other hand, reading its functions. “Long distance play, waterproof, and it syncs to music and sound?!” His white brows furrowed in disbelief as his grin widened. “Y/N, why didn't you tell me?!”
“Because it sucks.”
All of the excitement on Gojo’s face vanished. “Sucks? What do you mean it sucks?!” His cerulean eyes darted from the toy in his hand before focusing on you. The pout he was sporting was almost impressive.
“It sucks, Satoru.” Pushing past him, you headed for the couch. “I tried syncing it to my playlist. It didn’t get me all hot and bothered. I even tried using the sound function. The app syncs to the sounds of porn videos, or any sound in general, but they just.” You shrugged a shoulder, plopping down on the couch. “They were so phony that the vibrations were so weak. I hated it so much that I didn’t see the point in telling you about it.”
Something about what you had said had Gojo blinking in silence. “You synced it up to some random porn video online?”
“Yes, Toru, and like I just told you, it sucked.”
“Right, but you watched two rando’s do it?” Something in the tone of his voice triggered your sixth sense. The danger was approaching, and it was in the form of your very horny boyfriend.
“Y-Yeah?” What should have been a statement was more of a question as Satoru dangled the toy on his index finger with an almost sadistic smirk. “What are you getting at with this?”
”Ah, you see, dear Y/N, my sweet perverted girlfriend.”
”Hey!”
Gojo crouched, twirling the vibrator around his finger like his house keys. “The problem isn’t the toy.” His pink tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. “It’s the content you’re viewing. You need something more—personal.”
”Ah! Ah! Fuuuck! Fuck!”
The toy deep inside of you buzzed at an intense speed. “Holy shit!” You cried out, your hand squeezed Satoru’s cock tight.
“Take my fucking cock.” Satoru’s voice from your television was sultry while the Satoru beside you wheezed out a laugh.
“Fuck, easy baby, you’ll break my dick.” Peeling your eyes away from the television screen, you tilted your head back against the couch, your Y/E/C eyes focusing on Satoru’s throbbing cock. “See, I told you it was the content and not the toy.”
He was right about that. When he suggested you put on the porno’s the two of you made together, you didn’t have high hopes. But holy fuck were you wrong. Your moans, Satoru’s dirty words, god it god it got you going, along the vibrator was buzzing like mad inside of you. Firmly pressing against your g-spot, teasing it as you watched Gojo fuck you into the mattress.
Satoru decided to join you for ‘research,’ wanting to see for himself that the toy sucked, as you said it did. Little did he know that you were going to start stroking him as you both watched yourselves on the screen. He rocked his head back as your thumb rubbed gently circled over his slit.
“Y/N fuck, playing with my pre like that.” his hand slid over, rubbing circles over your clit that had you jolting. “You're so pretty when you're feeling good. Such a good girl~”
His voice next to you was a sharp contrast to the Gojo on the television. He had the camera turned to his face. He was sweaty, biting his lip as he slapped your ass hard in the video. “You're such a nasty girl~! God fuck, grinding up against me on the dance floor, telling me you were soaking wet in the car.” Another sharp slap had both of you in the video and on the couch whining. “My dirty fucking slut, couldn't wait to get dicked down, could ya’?” The vibrator buzzed louder, your toes curling as you watched the screen. Slapping skin, whines, and guttural moans had your vibrator buzzing like a beehive.
“Hey, look at me~” Turning to look at Satoru was so hard from how hard you were jerking. “You're so beautiful~ do you like your toy now? You love it?” Please say you do, please, please, please. Satoru begged in his mind as you jerked his cock harder. If you liked it, it would make phone sex a million times better.
“Toru, Toru, yes, feels good~ love it~!” Fuck you were close. Your moans were beginning to meld in with your moans from the video. Louder, desperate, and ducking porn worthy. “Toru wanna cum, wanna cum with y-you!” Satoru gritted his teeth, eyes darting to his cock, that you were jerking off like a crazed woman.
“Yeah, ah, pretty girl, I’m close~ cum with me, okay? Be a good girl and cum~” The Satoru on the television snarled as he came, while your
Satoru whimpered, thrusting into your clenched hand until ropes of hot sticky cum painted your hard and his clenching ab’s. “Cumming, of fuck yes, I’m cummin’!” He cried out in time with his television persona.
It was the combination of the vibrations, Satoru’s fast circles over your clit, and watching yourselves cum that had you gushing around your new favorite toy. You screamed, eyes rolling back into your head. You came all over the couch. Fuck when was the last time you came that hard? It was probably when you and Satoru made the video you were viewing.
“So,” Satoru asked between pants, “does the t-toy still suck?”
You didn't answer his question. You instead grabbed your phone with shaking hands, typing on the screen. Satoru was about to ask what you were doing when a little chime went off. You tossed your phone to the side before gently pulling the toy out of you.
“Aw, done already?” Satoru’s cocky voice cut off as you straddled his hips. “Y-Y/N?” You cupped his face, turning it to the side, allowing you to kiss down his neck. “Fuuuck baby.”
“Mm,” Kiss after kiss trailed down his neck, “no, I love it~ I love it so much I just bought you the matching fleshlight.”
Satoru’s large hands gripped your hips, massaging them. “Oh really?” He gasped out as you sucked and bit the crook of his neck, marking his ivory skin. “A-Are you gonna make me watch the same video when it gets here?”
“Oooh, no.” Satoru watched as you grabbed his phone, propping it against the lamp beside him. “We're making a new video,” Satoru whines louder, wincing as you bite him harder. “Oooh, good boy~ Toru~ be extra loud for us~ that way, the vibrations are super strong.”
Nanami Kento:
The second the elevator door opened, Nanmi bolted out, running towards your shared apartment. He was nearly breathless from all of the running he had done in an attempt to get home as fast as he possibly could. Fuck, if only he could teleport like Gojo, maybe his heart wouldn’t be pounding inside of his ears in fear and panic.
He had been meeting with Yaga at the school when his phone went off, alerting him of your text. You were constantly sending messages throughout the day. Asking how he was doing, what he would like for dinner, or if he needed anything while you were out shopping. He did not feel like he deserved to have someone like you in his life.
His blood ran cold when he read the screen, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.
Y/N: I need your help; please come home ASAP!
The second those words processed through his mind, he was moving. Telling Yaga there was an emergency and he needed to hurry home. Every single terrible thought rushed through his mind at once. Was there a cursed spirit chasing you? Did one of the students get hurt? Were you hurt? He needed answers to the questions that were on a constant loop in his mind.
“Y/N!?” Nanami yelled out as he entered the apartment, slamming the door behind him. “Y/N?!” No traces of cursed energy, a sign of intrusion, or blood was in sight.
”I-I’m in the bedroom, Kento.” Immediately, Nanami knew something was off with your voice. It was far too timid.
When he walked into the room, he expected to find something terrible awaiting him. Much to his relief, you were laying in bed, a blanket covering your lower body propped up against your pillows. That’s how he had left you this morning and countless other times. Either you received some bad news from your family, or there was something his observant eyes were missing.
”What happened? Are you okay? What’s the emergency?”
Your face twisted from unreadable to one to a pained one as you shifted slightly. Anyone else would have missed it, but Nanami knew everything about you. He moved so fast you gasped as he crawled on the bed, looking you over for injuries.
“What's going on?” the stern tone of his voice made this ten times more embarrassing.
You brought your hands to your face, rubbing them gently as you tried to find your words. “I-I uhm—” Peeking through your fingers, you found Nanami staring at you with that serious look. “It, uhm, it's stuck.” Could this day get any worse? God fuck, this was mortifying.
“Stuck? What's stuck, Y/N?”
“M-My toy.”
“Toy?”
Not wanting to get into the details of your activities, you sighed, slowly pulling the blanket off. Laying on the bed beside you was a bottle of lube, and as you spread your legs, Nanami hissed at the sight. A toy, one he had never seen before, was lodged inside of you. It was thick; it made your poor pussy throbbed and twitched around it. Your wet slick glistened around it.
Nanami sighed, looking away from you, trying to keep some composure. Fuck you looked so hot, but a twinge of insecurity hit him in the chest. Nanami loved using your toys on you. He didn’t see them as competition; they were more like allies. He’d do anything, use anything to make you feel good. You both were very good at communicating your needs and wants with each other. If you were horny, all you needed to do was ask him.
Even if you wanted to masturbate, he had no issue with that at all! He encouraged it. Nanami Kento was not one of those men who saw you pleasuring yourself as a hit to his ego. He bought you a lot of the toys you shared. Kento wanted you to be satisfied and happy. That’s all his heart desired.
But something about this stung. It wasn’t because he was hurt that you didn't ask for help. You were not required to tell him if you were horny or needed help. Nor was it the fact that you were getting off on your own. What it was was the fact you were in pain. You had hurt yourself. That’s what stung me the most.
“Kento?” The stoic look on his face said everything without the use of words. “Baby, look, I just, I—!”
Kento said nothing as he stood up, walking to the dresser. He shrugged out of his suit jacket; his suspenders stretched as he took his watch off before rolling the sleeves of his blue dress shirt up to his elbows. Nanami, not saying anything was more stressful than him yelling at you. The room was too tense; it was thick and suffocating as Nanami turned around, getting on the bed.
His hands slowly slid up your thighs, spreading them apart. “Let’s get this out of you.” He nearly whispered before glancing into your Y/E/C eyes. “Ready?” You nodded, giving him the approval to proceed. His hands gently grabbed the base of the toy, tugging it.
“O-Ow.” You winced, watching him closely.
Nanami clenched his jaw at your pained whine. “Did you not use enough lube?” Gently, he twisted the toy before pushing it back into you.
“Ah~!” A loud moan escaped you, hands covering your eyes. “N-No, I d-don’t fuck, ah fuck, c-could you maybe not push it back in?”
A blonde eyebrow cocked at your request. “Do you want this stuck inside forever?”
“No. I’m sorry; I’ll shut up. Fuck this is embarrassing.”
“Mm.” Nanami sat up on his knees, looking over you. “Keep your legs open.” You pouted, doing as he said, while he twisted the toy inside of you, watching your reactions closely. You withered under him, pleasure starting to replace the pain. “You should have known better, or you could have warmed yourself up a little more.” He chastised, twisting and pulling at the snug toy again.
Your hands gripped the sheets, fisting the fabric. “N-Nanami, please don’t scold me.” You whimpered, cheeks flushing under his gaze. “J-Just ah, fuck, take it out.” From the mixture of embarrassment and lust, your voice had a tone; one Nanami didn’t care for.
He clenched his jaw tight. “It’s not coming out because you pushed it too far in! So now I have to work it out!”
You whined louder; this was not the way you thought this would play out. You bought this toy for both of you. “Oh my god! Just fuckin yank it out! This is so fucking embarrassing! I wanna die right now.” You laid your elbow over your eye, hiding your teary gaze from him.
“I’m your boyfriend. Why is this embarrassing?!” It wasn’t often that Nanami snapped at you, but your attitude was getting under his skin.
“Because!! I ruined the surprise!!” You removed your arm, showing him your teary gaze. Nanami’s eyes went wide. “T-This is the custom toy we made. It was delivered this morning, and I freaked seeing how big it was. I wanted to see if it would fit because I didn’t want to ruin tonight. But I ended up ruining it anyway.”
Honey-brown eyes darted towards the toy. Kenton wasn’t able to tell from the base. But upon further inspection, he recognized the custom marble coloring of blue and yellow the two of you picked out when you designed it. The one that he had all added ridges and bumps, especially for your pleasure. You were doing a test drive for him. All for him.
“Y/N, love,” he smiled softly, “you didn’t need to do this. You wouldn’t have messed anything up. We could have taken it slow. Just because it got here didn’t mean I would want to use it. I would've helped ease you into it. Besides, you didn’t ruin anything.”
You were wiping at blubbering tears, only managing to smile and nod in agreement. It was so relieving to know you didn’t ruin the experience. Things would be perfect if this toy weren’t stuck inside of your pussy.
Nanami leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. “Mm Y/N~” Feeling his lips against you had you moaning as you kissed him back. Nanami pulled back, his cock throbbing in his pants. “Alright, let’s get this toy out of you. But I need you to put in some effort.” You hummed, nodding eagerly.
“Okay, how can I help?”
“Be good,” Nanami commanded before fucking the toy into you.
You threw your head back, turning it from side to side as the custom ridges and bumps hit your g-spot perfectly, just how Nanami had designed it. Your toes curled, thighs shaking as you gasped out cries of pleasure. Nanami smirked, listening to the squelching sounds of your pussy.
“Fuck, you like that? Your pretty cunt sounds like she loves it~.”
“Ah, fuck, yes!! Nnngh!” You gripped your pillow, staring at him through your lashes. “B-But I want you more~! Please, I want to feel you.”
“Yeah, you do?” His voice was full of faux curiosity. “But Y/N, you were bad.” His eyes were dark as he twisted the toy he fucked in in and out of you. “You got yourself into a situation, didn’t you? One that you had to call me to come fix.”
Your eyes were wide, pupils dilated, fixed on him. Fucking hell, he looked so fucking hot. Eyes dark, eyes focused on the toy he customized for you. You needed him inside of you. You needed him to be the one rearranging your guts. Slowly, you slid your foot over, rubbing your foot over the hard bulge straining in his dress pants. The contact had him hunching over, jaw-dropping as he groaned.
“Please, Ken~ I need you. I need you so bad.”
He was breathing heavily, glaring down at you. “Fine.” He yanked the toy out, chuckling at the gasp you let out as the giant toy popped out of your cunt. “Do you need me?” His hands quickly moved, undoing his belt before tugging them down as he slotted between your thighs.
“Yes Kento, I need yo—oooh!!!” Nanami’s cock slammed into you before you finished your plea.
“You feel so fucking good.” Kento tilted his head back, hips slamming into you at a pace that had you seeing stars. The veins in his neck popped out as he gritted his teeth. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so wet! You were feeling it, weren't you?”
You weren’t going to last. You were already so close. Nanami wasn’t doing any better himself. His cock throbbed deep inside of you as he set a brutal pace. Slamming in and out, fucking you as deep as he could. The tip of his cock slammed against your cervix. It was a painful pleasure that had your mouth dropping in an ‘O’ shape. God, you might die. This was too good.
Nanami grabbed your face, jerking your head to look at him. “You look at me when you cum, you fucking hear me?” His mouth was on yours, tongue sliding against yours, capturing every whine and moan you made as his cock slammed into every sweet spot.
As much as you wanted to close your eyes, you obeyed Nanami’s instructions. Y/E/C on his as you screamed into his mouth. You came, squirting, whining, and crying. Nanami pulled back, face flushed as he growled like a fucking incubus. Feeding off of you, your orgasm, every part of you. Feeling you cum, seeing that fucked out expression plastered across your flushed face. It had Nanami cumming so hard. His balls clenched as he emptied his seed inside of you, painting your walls.
“Fuuuck, Y/N, fuuuck.” His hips slowed, his hands gently massaging your hips as he laid down with you. His arms wrapped around you, spooning you close. “I love you, god, you’re perfect.”
Breathing heavily, you giggled, relaxing in his arms. “I-I love you too.” You lazily smiled as you ran your fingers over his forearms, tracing shapes. “Thanks for saving me, Kento.”
His chest vibrated with a rich chuckle, lips grazing your neck. “Anything for you my love.” His lips pressed against your cheek, and you knew he meant every word.
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prosciuttulipa · 2 months
Text
Period Pain, Go Away
how the JJK men help you through your period
content: afab reader x jjk men, just fluff this time! brief dirty joke in Toji's one (because he's Toji), but every one of them is a good boi in their own way <33
a/n: on my period and am in much pain v_v i can't decide who i want to comfort me, so i'm writing for all of the men i want
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Gojo Satoru who isn't just your boyfriend during your period, but a "girl's girl". He wants to spoil you with desserts and eat the leftovers that you can't finish, do face masks with those cute cucumber slices over the eyes. You want a bath? He's already drawing one, dunking in bath bombs till the water looks like a small galaxy, putting on your comfort show so you can watch it while you soak.
Dealing with pain through fun and smiles has always been his way of coping. So, yes—maybe he does look a bit silly, gossiping with you while you paint sparkles onto his nails, his hair tied up with a pink scrunchie. But what's a boyfriend for, if not to be your Ken doll during your time of need?
It hurts him more than he likes to admit, to see you wince at a bad cramp, or come out of the bathroom with the colour drained from your cheeks. When you can't manage anything more than lying in your bed, he'll rest his head against your stomach, peppering kisses wherever it hurts. "Be good to my girl," he'll jokingly threaten your uterus, poking your tummy gently, "she deserves the world."
Geto Suguru who knows your period is coming before you do. Your irritable mood and food cravings clue him in, and he takes action without saying a single word.
The day your period starts, you realise that the feminine products you usually use have been fully restocked without your notice. The fridge is filled with your period cravings, enough to last a week. Before you can even say anything, a large hand wraps around your waist and presses a hot water bottle against your abdomen. "Good morning, princess," he greets you like he hasn't just pulled off what can only be described as a small miracle, "is everything to your liking?"
You don't know whether to laugh or cry at how perfectly he's predicted you. He's a step ahead of you throughout your entire period, knowing which snack or act of affection you want just by your expression. Some might call his behaviour unreasonable; frankly, he thinks it's bullshit. "Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer," is what he quotes, when you ask him why he's so observant. "What makes you think I do not absolutely and utterly worship you?"
Nanami Kento who is obviously written by a woman, and so does not flinch when he sees the blood on the bedsheets when he wakes up earlier than you. Instead, he kisses you good morning till you're giggling, distracting you so you don't get a chance to see the stains. He changes the sheets while you're in the bathroom, throwing them in with the rest of the laundry. When you come back out, worrying you dirtied the bed, he merely shrugs. "I didn't see anything, darling."
He treats you like a queen on the daily, but during your period, you're his empress. Each word is law, each action his cue to immediately come to your aid. He'll cook every meal, and won't let you hold the spoon to feed yourself if he can help it. As far as he can see, your only responsibility this week is to lounge around, and let him spoil you rotten.
He thinks it's a crime that you still have to go to work, when you have to pop painkillers with your breakfast just to make it through the day. "I can take care of you, you know," he'll inevitably murmur, kissing the shell of your ear, "I make enough money to support us both. Take the day off, dearest. They don't need you more than I do."
Toji Fushiguro who manages to piss you off on the first day of your period. "What size pussy you wear?" he calls to ask, when he's picking up your feminine products at the corner store, "gotta make sure I take care of that kitty for all the squeezin' she does on me."
When he gets back home and finishes getting an earful on how you're more than just his pocket pussy, he apologises by scooping you up in his arms. "You know you're more than just a good fuck, doll," his words carry a rare sort of honesty, coming from him. "You're a good woman. My woman. Gun's in the second drawer, sweetheart—shoot me if I ever do wrong by you."
His touches turn softer, the smack to your ass replaced with a squeeze on the hip, kisses on your shoulders. He's got a hand on you at all times, just rubbing idle circles against your stomach or lower back to soothe your cramps. When bedtime comes, he makes you lay on your tummy, massaging away the tension in your muscles until you're all nice and pliant. He may not always know what to say, but he'll be damned if his actions make you feel like he doesn't love you.
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what about Valentino, Vox and maybe Stolas when their card declines on a date,yk those couple of gut wrenching awkward seconds before their s/o nervously offers to pay. Thank you in advance if you take this up <3
Wait, what?!
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Valentino
"I'm sorry sir, your card declined."
Val sat there for several moments, mind taking a minute as he'd never actually heard those words in that order directed at him.
Turning away from you, he'd stare at the server, the feline demon patiently standing there.
Val sat there for another minute, comprehending the utter fucking audacity of a bitch.
"Your fucking with me right?"
He asked, genuinely giving her a chance to back peddle.
When she just kept standing there, Val jumped to his feet, scowl flaring crossing his features.
"Bitch, I dont need a fucking card, I own the fucking building!" He screamed at her, the girl stumbling back.
He'd go off, snarling at the girl for disrupting your date night, and for something so fucking stupid.
By the end of his rant the restaurant owner had come out, trying to mediate the situation.
He'd chewing him out, asking what kind of incompetent shitheads he hired.
As he did, you'd approach, placing a hand on him. He'd spin around, prepared to snarl at someone, but quickly backed down, shoulders slumping.
You'd take his hand in your own, leading him back to your table, sitting down.
You'd sit in silence for a little while, the restaurant popping up with some 'Complementary Desserts', the two of you eating in silence before he sighed, taking your hand into his.
"I'm sorry for blowing up like that in front of you." He spoke softly.
He was always sure to keep a certain image for you. He did a lot of bad things, far more then even you knew about, as such he did his best to keep a certain image in your eyes.
And loosing his cool and screaming at some girl wasn't helping said Image.
You sighed, smiling as you squeezed his hand.
"It's alright, I'd probably lose my cool too if my employees asked me something like that."
Val chuckled at that, leaning in to kiss your hand.
"I could apologise to her if you'd like?" He asked softly.
To which you'd laugh, scoffing as you waved him off. "Please, as if. That dumb bitch asked you for a credit card in your own club."
At that Val broke into laughter, getting up and stantching you up, kissing you deeply as he carried you out of the restaurant, the two of you only kissing deeper as you left the restaurant, your kissing only getting more heated as you made it to your Limo.
Vox
The night had been set up so perfectly.
He'd gotten a reservation at an extremely classy joint, but not too classy. He wanted it to be like 'yeah, I've got a shit tone of money, but we can still talk without people glaring at us'. That kinda fancy.
So there you were, at the end of an incredible meal, the two of you dining on some very tasty deserts when Vox had given his card, a Luxury very few in Hell had, to pay for your meal.
And as the server came back, the man expecting to be given his card back, instead the server leaned in, speaking those simple words.
"I'm sorry sir, your card was declined."
The Television headed Demon froze, screen glitching as he processed what the actual Hell they'd just said.
Vox turned to the server, staring at them for several moments before he got up, grabbing the server before getting up, and spinning them around, growling at him what the fuck he meant.
He fucking dragged the server away, getting the fucking manager, the two having an exceptionally unsubtle screaming match in the kitchen at the insult to him, Vox, fucking King Teck of Hell, having his fucking card brought back.
After some apologetic words from the manager and getting your meal comped, he'd return.
He'd act as though nothing happened, the man acting all cool and composed, while you just went along with it, finishing your deserts.
And despite the incident, you'd go on to have a lovely night, the man taking you back to his place where you ended the night on a spectacular note.
You had tea, and suggled on a couch and just shared some wholesome intimacy.
Stolas
The night was going incredibly.
You'd been enjoying your meal, talking and laughing, telling stories and jokes, it felt like the science block of a highschool, cause you had chemistry.
The night was going so well, that he was barely aware when he paid the bill, the man in the middle of a hilarious story when the server came back.
"Your card was declined."
He spoke bluntly, with no tact whatsoever.
Stolas froze, head snapping up at him, a frown quickly crossing his face as he stared at the server, the man simply staring back, hand extended, clearly expecting payment.
And so, without missing a beat, Stolas raised his hand, still with a frown, he'd wave his hand, a portal about the size of a dinner plate appearing besides him, before he simply reached in, before pulling out a sack, dropping it before him, the sack opening to reveal a small stack of golden coins.
Pulling out a few he dropped them into there servers hand, telling him bluntly.
"For the bill. No tip."
The server, grumbling to himself, turned and left, the man growling all the way.
Clearing his throat, he'd adjust his attire before turning back to you, finishing his story.
You'd go on to have another desert, Stolas paying with gold, expecting full change.
Which he'd get, with a saide of stink eye from the man.
After the desert and another glass of wine, you'd head back to his, and after another bottle of wine, you'd end up sleeping together.
No, not sex. You'd curl up on one of Stolas' more comfortable couches, the big owl man holding you close, the events of the night long gone from your mind as you slept the night away, comfy and happy in his embrace.
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coralinnii · 1 month
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Can I please request Cater, Ace, Deuce and Epel helping you after a rough break up (with someone else, not them)?
‧₊˚✧ Let me love you until you love yourself ‧₊˚✧
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↳ Helping you after a rough breakup 
feat: Cater ❋ Ace ❋ Deuce ❋ Epel genre: hurt/comfort note: no pronouns were used with the reader, reader is implied to be Yuu!reader, depictions of toxic relationships, implications of violence,
Similar prompt: finding out you got brutally rejected
2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023
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You see, Cater already had a suspicion that your boyfriend wasn’t the greatest pick. Years of listening to his older sisters talk about red flags to look out has honed his sixth sense about these kind of stuff.
But what was he supposed to tell you? He’s not going to just barge into your relationship and tell you that he feels some off vibes about your man. All he could do was be there for you when you needed an ear to hear you out. 
But he started to notice that you were less like yourself as the relationship went on. Your Magicam account wasn’t as active and soon even your close friends weren’t sure when was the last time you hung out with them. Cater could only catch you in class or with your glaring boyfriend clinging to you. 
Your relationship finally hit an ugly crescendo when your boyfriend publicly humiliated you and ended things in the open hallway. The reason Cater learned was because you wanted to go out with your friends again, even if he didn’t want to. 
Night Raven College has a knack for choosing students with rather vindictive personalities and no matter how subtle it is, Cater is no different. The sociable redhead may not always be the type to step up to lead or start something, but he is more than willing to teach a tactless underclassman a lesson on respect.
It doesn’t matter which dorm your ex is from since the extrovert Cater has friends and contacts of all the Housewardens, vice Housewardens and other notable students with authority. Call it his privilege for his chatty nature and years on this large campus.
With a charming set of words and implications from the smooth-talking Cater, most of them picked up the hint that a certain jerk needed some well-deserved punishment. For disgracing the dorm’s dignity, they all claimed. 
With the personified ick dealt with, all of Cater’s attention is on you. The versatile upperclassman can be anything you need in your time of healing. Cafe dates, unhinged frustration venting, screaming karaoke sessions with a chill support group (an exclusive privilege courtesy of the Pop Music Club), or a judgeless crying session as he held you together both metaphorically and literally. 
The screaming karaoke and dessert binging was fun and all, but the feeling of Cater’s warm hands as he gently rubbed your back as you hiccuped through your tears was a healing moment that left you raw but appreciative. 
Perhaps there was a little bit of guilt, or even something deeper within his heart for you, but as he wrapped his arms around you closer whilst you fell asleep in comfort, Cater thought to himself to protect you from something like this for as long as he can stay with you, for as long as he could do to stay with you.
“Hey now, no tears. Cay-Cay to the rescue!” 
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Oh he hated your ex from day 1. No, it wasn’t because of his personal feelings for you, it was just literally everything about that jerk. At every chance, Ace would snidely comment and jeer the as*hole. The only reason he would stop was if you personally asked him to get along with him. 
“Tch. Fine, I guess” 
So Ace is a liar, but at least he’s a good actor. He’s willing to smile and laugh but he never lets the suspicious feeling fade. 
That suspicion quickly became rage when Grim told him that jerk of yours broke up with you over text. 
Turns out your (ex) boyfriend was dating you in hopes to catch the attention of a crush from his hometown, sending pictures in hopes to stir up some jealousy. Questions became screaming matches in your room and soon you were left a broken mess alone in your bedroom.
When Ace knocked on your door sometime later, you saw him in a familiar heart-shaped collar which wasn’t a surprising image. Without saying much, all Ace offered as a vague explanation was that he got into a fight with some jerk student.
As Ace was getting comfortable on your sofa, Cater later texted you, giving full details of what happened. Turns out the “jerk student” was your ex who was running his mouth oh how you were crazy and unbearable out in the courtyard, where Ace was passing by.
“Riddle is pretty pissed right now. Ace just went crazy on him and wouldn’t let up until we pulled him away. But still, be kind to him, k? He had good intentions.” 
Sitting together on the sofa, the two of you made quite an interesting image. Your eyes were red with wet tracks all over your face from crying while Ace had swollen patches of blue and black on his normally boyishly charming face. 
You broke the tension. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.” 
Ace brushed your words off. “What are you talking about? I did it for me. That dude always rubbed me the wrong way.” 
Ace is a liar, but strangely you didn’t mind it when he did it.
“Just so we’re clear, I didn’t do it for you. Alright? Good, so don’t go thinking too deep into it…”
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A model student would support all of his peers, Deuce convinced himself. It was why he kept himself from just straight-up wrecking this punk that you found yourself dating. But Deuce trusts you. Maybe Deuce’s misjudging him since he can’t imagine you falling for someone beneath you, and he assumed that despite how he feels about your partner, this dude wouldn’t be stupid enough to not treat you good. 
But unbeknownst to Deuce, arguments were common in your relationship with your insecure partner. From complaining that you don’t spend time with him (um, because you were busy saving your friends from overblot?) to outright blaming you for emasculating him in his own relationship because of your popularity in school for your accomplishments. 
The breakup itself was honestly anti-climatic, and everyone could see it from a while away so it came to the surprise of no one. 
It was the aftermath of all of the arguments with your ex that truly hurt you. What was once a source of pride to you became reasons of your anxiety as you wondered if your ex held truth in his accusations. 
“You think you’re perfect ‘cause you’re doing a little better than me? Get over your high horse, you pretentious b-“
“Are you ok?” Deuce’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, bringing you back to the library where you were helping Deuce with a subject he was failing. 
You tried smiling but Deuce noticed the tenseness of your features and try asking once more, which led you to ultimately voicing your worries. 
“Maybe I was being too boastful, I shouldn’t just talk about me- Wait, Deuce?!” 
You managed to catch Deuce by the hem of his sleeve before flinching at the sight of the glaring rage in Deuce’s fiery eyes. 
“Where is that no-good coward! That punk’s getting what's coming to him!” 
It took some time (and getting kicked out from the library) for Deuce to finally settle his rage. Still, he was muttering some choice words to describe your ex which made you chuckle just a little. You wanted the breakup to be civil and simply pass as an unpleasant memory but you admit that seeing someone get mad for your sake was…nice. Almost heart-warming, really.
Suddenly, Deuce turned to face you. Back straight and his strong fist firmly pressed to his chest, Deuce looked to you with pure honesty as he promised to protect you from your worthless ex with everything he’s got. 
It took you quite some time to admit that when Deuce made that promise, you felt your heart skip a beat. 
“If anyone gives you grief for that, just ignore 'em. Let me handle them, I’m pretty strong.”
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Romance honestly flies over Epel’s head. Afterall, the relationships he’s seen are his town’s couples who've been married for decades with kids all grown up, and the ones he’s seen in films and books. All he knew was, if you like someone and you’re dating them, you should be counting yer lucky stars and make sure you treat them right.
So, imagine the genuine look of surprise on his face when his dormmates whispered rumors that you were caught in an ugly argument with your boyfriend, with accusations that your man was actually cheating with someone supposedly prettier than you. 
Now, imagine his unbridled rage when Epel found that it was true. Your ex-boyfriend apparently held high expectations of himself and the partners he deemed to be worthy by his side. While he settled for you, he was looking around for another companion that “best suits his standards” as he said. 
It took a strict scolding and promise of harsh reprimanding from Vil to calm the young freshman down as his hometown habits rushed back to him. How he wanted to give that no-good son of a backyard mutt a mighty beating for what he did to you.
Instead, Vil suggested that Epel rather hit him where it would really hurt for unsavory fellows like him, through his pride. 
“If he thought he was better off with someone that “best suits his standards” as he put it, try proving to him he ended up with what he deserved. ” 
After deciphering what Vil meant, Epel used his noggin to hurt your ex where it really hurts. No longer was he the runt of a small village, but a man with various connections and skills to get a leg over his enemies. 
With his persistence, he convinced his Spelldrive captain, Leona to sit with you during lunch, and have the Vil Schoenheit spoil you with high-end gifts in public. With the attention of the most famous students showing you favor, everyone in NRC whispered and commented on who really won in the breakup. 
“He cheated while dating someone like that? What a mistake.” 
Behind his soft expression, Epel mentally smirked at the plummeting image of the man who prioritized fame over love. "You darn right a mistake it was, he thought.
In the entire time Epel treated you like the most important person on campus…in public at least.
In the privacy of your dormroom, you worked hard in holding in your laughter as Epel swore up a storm like a drunken sailor about the worthless ex of yours. Like Vil, it’ll be up to you to make sure he won’t go off picking a fight with your ex. 
Still, there was something undeniably true to Epel’s character to defend your honor, however he does it. 
“I ain’t too good at these sneaky schemes, but you gotta admit I got ‘im real good. Don’t cha think?”
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cherry compote and apricots
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summary: you have an excellent date night idea that will help carmen with work and also fulfill your needs.
pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings: smut. food play. blindfold. 18+. minors dni. hand restraints (not exactly handcuffs). sub?carmy, switch?carmy. oral f receiving. p in v (wrap it before ya tap it).
a/n: this is my first time writing a full smut like this, please be nice 😭 trying my best
Masterlist
-----
carmen had texted you earlier to ask what you wanted for dinner, as he decided to just get takeout, too tired to come back home and cook. but you told him not to worry, because you've got everything prepared.
you may not be a chef, but you can cook for two. two plates of pasta are served on the table when carmen enters his apartment, and the smell of focaccia makes him sigh.
"you," he hangs his jacket. "are a gift."
you smile at him while putting the pans away. "tough day at work?"
"like you wouldn't believe." he mutters against your lips, giving you a quick peck. "need me to do anything?"
you shake your head. "just sit down and eat, carm. i'll join you in a sec."
he nods and sits on the couch, taking his plate of food and tasting the pasta you made. "mm. you sure i can't convince you to be a professional chef?"
you chuckle and sit next to him, scooping some pasta sauce with your focaccia. "you flatter me, carm."
carmen finishes his food fast. must've been starving. he grabs your empty plates to wash them and you smile slyly once his back is turned towards you.
"hey carmy,"
he hums in response.
"you want some dessert?"
carmen glances back from the sink and shrugs. "sure. what do you have in mind?"
once you've made sure carmen's finished with the dishes, you sneakily circle your arms around his waist. you can feel the outline of his muscles from his thin shirt and it makes you squeeze your thighs together.
"oh, it's this kind of dessert?"
you pepper kisses from his shoulder up to his neck before he turns around and holds your face in his hands. he sees your blown pupils and chuckles.
"what?"
his smile lingers and he kisses you gently. "nothing."
you moan -- or whine? in his arms and pull him away from the kitchen area to the couch by his waistband. you take his shirt off and push him to sit. "eyes closed."
"huh?"
"eyes. closed." you repeat once again.
he sighs and does as you say. you take out the blindfold you've been keeping behind the couch cushion and tie it around his head, making sure he can't peek.
"kinky, aren't we?"
you kiss the top of his head before going to the fridge to get a few things. you can hear carmen whine when he lost your touch. "i swear, if you leave me like this-"
"i'm not, jesus, don't worry." you roll your eyes and come back with a few bowls of ingredients. you place them in front of him on the table and settle yourself on his lap. "so."
"so?"
"syd told me you're trying to develop a new menu-"
he groans, "i don't really want to talk about work right now-"
"for every ingredient you can guess and pair together," you cut his line and grind down on his crotch. he moans and bucks his hips up. "you'll get a reward."
carmen's hands squeeze your sides firmly and he finally agrees. "fine."
you smile in victory and grab the first bowl of ingredients. "open, carm." you can feel him twitch when you said that, and it gives you a boost of confidence. he gulps and opens his mouth, ready for whatever you're about to pop in his mouth.
the spoon feels cold in his mouth, and he wishes it was your tongue instead. you wipe his lips with your thumb, sucking off the sweet syrup and the sound makes him throw his head back.
"so? what is it?"
carmen swallows and licks his lips. "mango. with honeyed lemons."
"mm-hmm." you pat his cheek and grind your hips down again, feeling how bricked up he is from all the teasing you're doing.
he groans. "can't i at least take these off?" he motions the blindfolds.
"that defeats the purpose of you guessing." you simply say and twist your hips to grab the second bowl. carmen hugs your waist and buries his head in your chest.
"you're killing me."
"carm, we barely started." you say sweetly. "now open."
he obliges and you feed him with your fingers this time. his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "just strawberries?"
you push your thumb against his lips, and he melts when he takes it into his mouth. you'd dipped your thumb into the melted chocolate and now carmen's sucking it off.
"fuck." he curses, licking all the chocolate off of your finger. "of course it's strawberry and chocolate."
"doing so good for me, carmy." you whisper, tracing your thumb he just sucked along his lip. "want your reward?"
he nods aggressively, and you smile at his enthusiasm. you pull your shirt above your head, and though carmen's blindfolded, he knows exactly what you're doing.
his hands make his way up your naked torso and almost reach your breasts. "can i?" he asks. "please?"
he's so cute like this. so vulnerable for you. carmen's sweetness in asking for permission almost made you forget everything and take him right there. but no. you're in control.
you squeeze your boobs together through his hands. he moans and buries his face in your chest, plays with your stiff nipples and he darts his tongue out, but you stop him.
"third set." you push his hands and his head away.
"ugh. how many are there?" he asks, his frustrations evident.
"only two more. open."
carmen opens his mouth, ready for whatever fruit is coming next.
what he didn't expect is you feeding him with your mouth this time. he almost chokes while his hips grind up and his hands grip your hips again. while the rest of the fruit is swallowed, the juices still linger between your lips, swirling around your tongues.
you pull away from him, panting. "what was it, carm?"
"oh, fuck." he totally forgot he's supposed to figure out what the ingredients are. "um, pineapple."
"yeah, and?"
he gulps. it was sweet. you're sweet. maybe the sweetness came from you? from the pineapple? "i uh.. i actually didn't get that one."
"oh?" you expected him to get everything right, but it's nice to see carmen flustered. because of you. "it was rum. guess i'm gonna have to give you a punishment."
as if carmen's pants can't get any tighter.
"hands behind your back, carmy."
"what?"
"you heard me."
he puts his hands behind his back, and you take the fabric covering his eyes off, tying them around his hands instead. carmen's still adjusting from being blindfolded, before being blessed with the sight of your breasts in front of him.
he struggles against the restraints.
"no, where are you going?" he whines when you get off his lap.
grinning at his desperation, you just stare at him while you take your shorts and panties off, now placing yourself on the other edge of the couch.
"last set." you take the bowl and pour the dark red liquid over your bare skin. over your breasts. over your stomach. over your...
carmen's jaw drops as he falls onto his knees. he knows what he has to do.
you take his chin and kiss him for a bit, with the syrup lingering all over your lips. "are you gonna be good?"
carmen nods frantically. "yes. yes. please, just.. please let me.."
"let you what, carmen?"
"let me taste you. please."
the man is practically drooling at this point. you slowly nod and carmen wastes no time to devour you. he starts nipping at your neck, down to the valley of your breasts where he can taste the syrup you poured.
he licks. bites. sucks. like a hungered man.
his kisses trail down to your navel and finally your mound. some of the syrup had trickled down and mixed with your juices. carmen looks at you while he licks one long stripe up.
you moan and buck your hips up to meet his mouth, but he moves away, grinning when he sees your upset expression.
before you can protest or say anything else, he dives back in, finding your clit and circling it with his tongue, sucking ever so gently.
the taste of the syrup mixed with your wetness makes him feel dizzy. so fucking sweet. he looks up at you while he eats you out, and you can only moan when those blue eyes stare at you like that.
your hands are buried in his hair, urging him to push his tongue into you because fuck, you need more. but carmen's not gonna give you that. not until you let his hands free.
come on, you know you need it.
his eyes are begging you.
but you won't give in. not when you're so close. so you grind down on his face, possibly suffocating him, as you chase your own high. carmen's never seen anything hotter.
"fuck. fuck. fuck. FUCK." your back arches as you pulse against his mouth, lapping up all your juices and leaving a few final kisses before he gets up to kiss you.
you help him get out of his pants that now have a wet stain, and get on top of him.
"fuck yes." you hear him whisper as you tease his angry red tip against your entrance.
you slowly sink yourself down. he's fucking big. as you take all of him, carmen keeps bucking his hips up, hitting your cervix with his tip. you're panting and clenching as you feel him entirely inside, and you finally start lifting and rolling your hips.
"oh my god." he moans. "you feel fucking amazing."
"yeah?" you smile sweetly at him, leaving wet kisses on his neck.
"yeah. so fucking warm and tight. fuck. baby." he furrows his brows while moving his hips to meet your thrusts even harder.
you can feel a familiar knot in your lower stomach and the tightness that comes and goes, and you struggle to keep your balance.
"carmy... gonna cum..." you moan, your thrusts becoming erratic.
carmen takes this as a sign to break free from his restraints that's been loose for a while and grab your hips, slamming you down on his cock.
"carmen!" you scream, unable to control your voice and hips anymore. it's now just carmen moving you up and down in an unrelenting pace.
"yeah, just like that. fuck. ahh, fuck you're so tight." he moans. "come on, baby, cum with me. cum on my cock."
a few particular deep and hard thrusts from carmen had you squirting all your juices and milking him dry. he's still rutting into you when you're finished, and you see the adorable frown he has while he's filling you up.
your breaths sync as you lay on his chest, unable to move just yet. carmen doesn't mind. he loves seeing you all fucked out like this. especially knowing it's because of him.
carmen smiles. "cherry compote."
you chuckle. "and?"
"apricots."
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Comfort Zone
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Sirius Black x James Potter x Remus Lupin x Reader, Marauders x Reader
Characters:  Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Reader
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 2751
Summary: You and the boys go out of your comfort zone.
Tags/Warnings: PolyMarauders, Marauders, F/M/M/M, Post Hogwarts, Maraduers Era, Poly, Kissing, Angst, Fluff, Arguing
Notes: I am trying to get the other evans girl finished but the ideas wont stop and I have no self control x
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MASTERLISTS // TAG LIST
‘You know he’s going to say no right?’ Remus said, watching you as you pulled the pie from the oven and placed it on counter top. James looked up from where he was lounging on the sofa, laughing as you scowled.
‘You don’t know that,’ you countered, moving to grab the potatoes that were near spilling over.
‘I know Padfoot,’ Remus said, placing his book down. 
‘We all know Padfoot Moony,’ James said rolling his eyes before he clambered out of his seat and came towards you, his hand dancing along your waist as he watched you cook.
’Exactly,’ you said, ‘and I know that he can be persuaded.’
‘What by a good meal,’ Remus said with a raised eyebrow, coming towards you too, resting his elbows on the counter as he eyed the pair of you. 
‘By a good meal and dessert,’ you mused. James chuckled, ‘she might have a point there.’
‘All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up,’ Remus said softly watching as your face fell in a frown, not relieved by James touch as he kissed your temple. 
‘Moonys right sweetheart,’ James said softly. You looked at him, worried that the hopes you’d pinned on this might’ve been in vain.
‘It’ll be fine,’ you said unsure who you were trying to convince, ‘I’ll make a good case for it you know me.’
The boys shared a look as you busied yourself obliviously thinking over the game plan as you finished dinner. You were just finishing up dolloping mash potatoes onto each of their plates when the fire in the living room glowed green, Sirius stepping out not a moment later. 
‘Hey,’ he said, shrugging his leather jacket off and coming towards you, placing a kiss on your temple as he said, ‘something smells good.’
‘I made your favourite,’ you said, gesturing to the steak and ale pie on the counter top, ‘pop it on the table will you. Dinner will only be a minute.’
‘How about that for service eh Pads?’ James ribbed, taking his seat at the table as did Remus with Sirius joining a moment later, placing the pie in the centre. 
‘Can’t complain,’ he mused as you placed their plates down, dropping into a seat yourself as Remus started to dish out the pie you’d made. 
It was quite the squeeze, your tiny kitchen feeling even tinier with the four of you around the table, but you loved it like this. It hadn’t been the plan of course; James and Sirius had moved in once leaving school and as your relationship developed you and Remus had sort of never left but you wouldn’t trade it. Even if it meant you had to run your wants and needs by everyone you loved, something you were building up to ask about but as Sirius looked at you your nerve went and instead you said ‘so how was work?’
‘Fine,’ Sirius said, ‘got a good case today.’
‘Yeah?’ you asked.
‘Yeah apparently there’s been quite a few dragon eggs smuggled into the country. Don’t know where from yet of course but should be interesting.’
‘That is interesting,’ you said, trying to figure out how to steer the conversation back around.
‘What about you?’ Sirius asked, taking a bit of pie. 
‘Oh you know not much,’ you shrugged, ‘got the flat tidy.’
‘Just you?’ Sirius said looking at James who hadn’t been paying attention until then but glared at the inference. 
‘It’s my day off,’ James protested. 
‘Your day to be a lazy git,’ Sirius teased and though you knew he was joking there was an edge to it that you frowned at especially when James pretended to shrug it off. It was funny to you how your roles within this little thing could be defined so quickly. How even though Sirius had no more a claim over you than the others he was still so certain to make sure you weren’t being taken advantage of, the one you turned to when you needed help. How James was your relief, the one who kept your spirits up, who made you laugh even if he couldn’t make a bed or pick up a pair of socks to save his life. And Remus was the one you shared your worries with. The one who made you feel heard and seen in a house full of boys.  
‘Rem helped when he got back,’ you said reassuringly. 
‘See,’ James said,’ besides I thought you wanted practice looking after something I’m just giving you opportunity.’
‘Why would she want that?’ Sirius asked confused. 
‘No reason,’ you said far too quickly to ever be casual. You’d been gearing up to ask but seeing the conversation teetering on a row you’d decided to postpone until James opened his big mouth. Sirius’ eyes narrowed.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ you lied, ‘I mean I don’t know what he’s on about.’
‘Sweetheart,’ Sirius said, his voice low and daring. You looked to James and Remus to find them interested in their meals, no help to you even as Sirius said, ‘alright what’s going on?’
‘Well,’ you said nervously, ‘I wanted to ask you something.’
‘Why what’s wrong?’ Sirius asked worriedly.
‘Nothing bad,’ you said placing your hand on his reassuringly.
‘Jesus mate lighten up,’ James teased. Sirius rolled his eyes but elected to ignore him, his gaze falling on you as he said, ‘what is it love?’
‘It’s just well I’ve been thinking,’ you said.
‘What about?’ Sirius asked.
‘Well about us,’ you said bashfully, ‘about this little thing we’ve got going on.’
‘Right,’ Sirius said dubiously.
‘And I was just thinking that it might be nice if we expanded a little,’ you said meekly.
‘Expanded?’ he asked, thoughts whizzing visibly behind his eyes. 
‘Yeah,’ you said. 
‘Like someone else?’ Sirius asked glancing at James and Remus before back at you. 
‘No, no of course not. I don’t want anyone else but you lot you know that,’ you said, squeezing his hand. That appeared to trigger something as he said, ‘you’re pregnant?’
‘What?’ you and James baulked, with Remus inhaling a piece of broccoli at the same time which made him cough and splutter as you protested, ‘no of course not!’
‘Well what else could it be?’ Sirius protested, glancing at Remus to make sure he was okay before his eyes went back to you.
‘Not that Jesus,’ James huffed, thumping a still watery eyed Remus on the back to help dislodge the issue. 
‘Well excuse me for jumping to conclusions when you’re obviously all in on whatever this is,’ Sirius said irritably, gesturing between the three of you.
‘That’s cos we won’t say no,’ James countered.
‘I never said yes,’ Remus said, his voice still weak as he glugged down a drink of water.
‘Yes to?’ Sirius asked.
‘I want a kitten,’ you said quickly realising there was no point beating around the bush anymore given the anarchy that had already been caused. 
‘What?’ Sirius asked as if he hadn’t heard you.
‘A kitten,’ you reiterated, ‘I was thinking about it and don’t you think a little-’
‘No,’ Sirius said flatly.
‘But-’ you protested but he waved you off stating, ‘you know I hate cats.’
‘You don’t know that,’ you said.
‘Yes I do,’ he said firmly.
‘How do you know?’ you pressed, ‘I mean you might do.’
‘I don’t,’ Sirius said, his tone challenging you not to talk back to him. As if this was the end of the discussion, but you weren’t done.
‘You don’t know that you just think you do because-’
‘He’s a dog?’ James finished.
‘Because you’ve never been around them!’ you corrected, ‘but I think it’ll be really good-’
‘What to have it scratching everything up and shitting in a box in the corner?’ Sirius scoffed.
‘We can let it go outside,’ you offered.
‘In the middle of a city yeah right,’ he said shaking his head. 
‘Oh Pads please,’ you begged.
‘I said no,’ Sirius said firmly.
‘Oh go on mate,’ James sighed. Sirius glowered at him, as he started, ‘just because you’re bendable to whatever she wants-’
‘Because I want her to be happy,’ James challenged.
‘Because you like pissing me off and being her favourite,’ Sirius said making James scowl. 
‘Pads please,’ you pleaded. 
‘I said no,’ he said pulling his hand out from under yours as he started to eat again. Irritated you looked away from him, looking to Remus who’s remained quiet even though he had been watching.
‘Please Rem?’ you asked.
‘I don’t know love,’ he said.
‘Come on majority rules. James said yes-’
‘James would say yes to anything that would get your top off,’ Sirius muttered.
‘And you wouldn’t?’ James scoffed; Sirius’ digs seemingly having gone too far to be just light hearted teasing. A sentiment that was confirmed as Remus, the nominated peacemaker, said, ‘lads stop it.’
Unfortunately he hadn’t said anything about you and so you looked to Sirius and challenged him, ‘okay what about a baby then?’
‘What?’ Sirius gawped.
‘See kitten isn’t as mad as that,’ you challenged.
‘She’s got a point,’ James said, making you smile smugly that you still had him on side.
‘She doesn’t have any point she’s being ridiculous!’ Sirius snapped.
‘I’m being ridiculous? You’re the one who won’t even hear me out I mean did you even wonder why I want one?’ you challenged. As the boys looked at you silently you continued, ‘I want a kitten because I want something for me. Something that’s just mine that I don’t have to share with anyone. Now I’m not saying I hate what we have going I love you all you know that. I just like our little home; I think we make it really lovely and you take such good care of me I just want something to love besides you three.’
All three of them remained silent, staring at you. When none of them spoke the weight of your words started hitting you, your vulnerability and longing now feeling more like a weakness rather than strength, as if you were in the middle of the ocean surrounded by three sharks. 
‘Fine,’ you huffed as your embarrassment caught the better of you, slamming your fork down and standing up.
‘Oh come on don’t get in a strop,’ Sirius scoffed, throwing his own utensils down.
‘Babe come on,’ James said tugging at your sleeve though you yanked it from his grip.
‘Pads is right let’s not fall out over something silly,’ Remus said, and though his was the nicest tone of the three of them it was that which made you see red.
‘Oh so I’m being silly now?’ you snapped, ‘when you won’t even contemplate doing something a little out of your comfort zone.’ 
‘You know I don’t like them,’ Sirius reasoned weakly.
‘Yeah you’ve made that clear I just thought I’d mean enough to try something you don’t like,’ you said curtly, throwing him a glare as you added, ‘I mean haven’t we all gone out of our comfort zone.’
‘That’s not the same,’ Sirius scoffed.
‘Isn’t it?’ you challenged.
‘You know it isn’t,’ he replied darkly. 
‘Feels like it’s one rule for the boys one for me,’ you said firmly. 
‘Babe you it’s not like that you know it’s not,’ James said softly. Sirius however didn’t seem to be caving, his jaw clenched at the accusation. 
‘Look,’ he started.
‘You know what forget it,’ you snapped, pulling away from the table and slamming your chair under it no doubt knocking a couple of knees as you did not that anyone complained. In fact the other boys looked worried, Remus especially as he said, ‘aren’t you going to eat your dinner?’
 ‘I’m not hungry,’ you lied, storming off to your bedroom, the door slamming behind you.
As James and Remus looked towards Sirius they found him on his feet too, grabbing his coat from where he’d hung it and shrugging it on. 
‘Mate come on,’ Remus grumbled. Sirius ignored him, heading to the fireplace.
‘Where are you going?’ James asked, turning so that he could see him.
‘Out,’ Sirius said and before they could protest he disappeared through green flame. 
✵✵✵
‘I still don’t think they’re good together,’ James said, his voice rumbling against your belly where his head was resting, your fingers running through his messy locks soothingly.
‘I don’t mind them,’ you said, trying not to giggle and tease him about the fact he’d maintained he had no interest in watching the soap you were currently watching.
‘Hmm,’ he muttered neither in agreement nor rebuttal. 
Before you could say anything though the door clicked open, making him lift his head from your stomach, and Sirius appeared in the doorway. Though James had been on your side, telling you how he agreed Sirius was being unreasonable he straightened up, no doubt aiming to be peacemaker as he said, ‘hey mate.’
‘Hey,’ Sirius said hesitantly, frowning as you refused to look in his direction. Nevertheless he cleared his throat and continued, ‘can I borrow you for a minute?’
‘Uh yeah sure,’ James said scrambling off you though as Sirius threw him a look James said, ‘oh you don’t mean me.’
You glanced their way for a fraction of a second before turning your attention back to the screen, thankful neither of them saw it. Sirius sighed and leant on the door frame, ‘are you still not talking to me?’
‘Are you still being selfish?’ you replied, your eyes still ahead, arms folded across your chest.
‘Guys,’ James sighed.
‘No actually,’ Sirius said cutting him off and earning a scoff from you. With a sigh he walked forward towards the bed, sitting down on the edge of it as he said, ‘would you just come into the living room? Please?’
You watched him for a moment, his grey eyes pleading with you in a way that made your heart thump. It was enough to make you let your guard down as you sighed and said, ‘fine.’ 
He climbed up before you heading to the door with you and James following him out into the living room. You were still miffed at him but more annoyed at yourself for being so malleable when it came to any of them playing on your heart strings. 
‘Now I understand if you don’t like it but there wasn’t much I could do at this time of night,’ Sirius said, turning to face you. Your gaze skimmed the living room, clocking Remus who was sitting on the couch but nothing that gave you any clues as to what he was talking about. As he watched you his face grew nervous.
‘Well?’ he asked, still you weren’t sure but before you could ask him what the hell he was on about you heard a little mewling chirp. Your eyes immediately flew in the direction of the noise where you found a tiny kitten trotting around on Remus’ lap, tiny claws clinging from his jumper as it threw itself about.
‘Oh my god!’ you squealed, racing forward to scoop the tiny little thing off of Remus’ lap. It wriggled about in your arms as you fawned over it.
‘Hi sweetheart, oh my god, hi, hi,’ you cooed, cuddling it to you, ‘oh my god aren’t you cute!’
‘It’s a good job he is otherwise he’d be long gone given how many times he’s scratched me on the way over here,’ Sirius grumbled, making you look up from your fit of fawning.
‘Aw sweetie do you not like the big doggy,’ you teased, earning a mew from the tiny black kitten in your arms. 
‘And yet he’s been awful fond of the big bad wolf,’ Sirius joked earning a chuckle from you all. You smiled and decanted the kitten into Remus’ arms so that you could go to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he held you to him, a smirk playing on his lips.  That was also the beauty of your relationship, whenever you did argue or disagree about something it never lasted long.
‘Hi,’ he said, moving a strand of hair from your face.
‘Hi,’ you replied.
‘Did I do alright?’ he asked hesitantly.
‘Sirius this is amazing,’ you whispered, ‘thank you so much.’
‘Yeah well it’s good to get out your comfort zone I suppose,’ he shrugged. 
‘You might be right,’ you said, leaning in to kiss him tenderly, ‘are you sure we just want one?’
‘Don’t push it,’ he mumbled into your lips. 
SIRIUS BLACK TAGS
@caitlin1996
487 notes · View notes
maitanii · 4 months
Text
IT WASN'T LOVE. He wasn't in love. Ran Haitani, definitely, wasn't in love.
However, as his finger scrolled through the phone screen each night, attempting to delete some blurry photos where only the outline of a smile was discernible, laziness conveniently took hold, allowing those files to continue occupying space on the phone.
On closer inspection, you're not that pretty. He wouldn't even say you're pretty, just an ordinary girl. Those five freckles scattered across your cheeks aren't that beautiful, even though they reminded him of the constellations Rindou always points out when they travel to the countryside. The poorly painted nails, slightly bitten at the corners, are just another sign that you're a mess, although he always brings a nail file for you to use. And the small chip in your front teeth? Nothing out of the ordinary, but he was with you when the fall happened (and watched you cry yourself to sleep while holding you on the couch).
"Are you listening to me?"
"Loud and clear."
"Right." Returning to spear the fork into the salad, you made sure not to pick any tomatoes. Those were left for Ran. "When is the fight?"
"Tomorrow." Reaching for his cutlery, he began to stab at his food. "Are you worried?" he commented before starting to chew.
"Don't talk with food in your mouth, pig." Placing your face in your hands, you turned your head to look out the window.
"Okay."
The red lights from the opposite building reflected on your forehead. In just a minute, Ran had noticed you had gotten new highlights in your hair. He also spotted the small pimple that had popped up near your chin and the poorly applied concealer on it. The tension in your shoulders. And that you didn't want to look him in the eyes.
"What time is the fight tomorrow?" you asked as Ran's slender fingers played with the engraving on the fork.
Ask me not to go.
"At seven. But South always asks us to arrive earlier. Should we order dessert?"
Ask me not to go.
"Okay."
Come on, ask me not to go.
Taking his gaze away from some point on your face, he lowered his head. The ambient music in the restaurant slipped into the silence of the conversation. How could he fall in love with someone who worried about him getting hurt in a fight? Trust was the foundation of any relationship, right? Damn it.
The Mont Blanc and the cheesecake didn't last long on the table. In a fork battle, the desserts soon disappeared. Rindou had always suffered the consequences of stealing bites from his food, so why had he fought with you to accept eating the last piece of Mont Blanc?
"I have exams soon, and I'd like to get up early. Can you take me home?"
"Sure." Smiling, Ran thanked the waiter who cleared their plates (the first time he didn't thank him, you reproached him for it). "But you have to let me pay."
"No."
"Then I guess you'll have to walk home alone."
"No problem."
He sighed. Fighting was pointless. In all the years since your friendship began, you had never let him pay an entire bill. Not even when your ex-boyfriend left you and gave you several jars of ice cream could you avoid leaving some coins on a piece of furniture at his house. Or when he gave you that bouquet of flowers on Valentine's Day, and you left two boxes of chocolates on the backseat of the car.
The way back home was quiet. To no one's surprise, you chose the music, and he chose the topic of conversation. The guys from your economics class. The new mascara that didn't leave many clumps. The scholarship you had applied for months ago. He was so engrossed that he got distracted and ended up driving through several streets, prolonging the journey. Well, what a silly mistake.
"Thanks for bringing me home. And thanks for today." Raising your thumbs, you drew a slight smile on your face. "I needed to get out for a while."
"I know, you took too long to respond to my messages."
"I always do that."
"Not to an invitation to have dinner at your favorite restaurant."
"You know me so well." Pinching his cheeks between your fingers, you watched as he squinted his eyes.
Closing the car door, Ran watched as you began to search for the keys to the gate in your bag. Taking out his phone, he checked the messages he had received during dinner. Two taps on the door prevented him from replying to the meme Rindou had sent him. Your perfume once again invaded the interior of the car.
"Ran." The concern in your voice made him immediately turn his head. "I know it's a lot to ask, but please try not to go to the fight tomorrow. You can come up with any excuse and come to my house. But please, don't go."
A smile began to slowly form on his face.
He wasn't in love. But when he got home and wrote a message to South saying he had a fever, he had done it with immense joy in his heart. And when he went to bed and looked at the photos he never deleted from his gallery, he would write again in his notes the places he wanted to take you. But he wasn't in love because what he felt was beyond any of that."
580 notes · View notes
taintandviolent · 2 months
Text
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Stalked - Kai Anderson x Reader
summary & wordcount: 2.6K! After breaking up with Kai, he decides you need a little reminder of what once was. idea requested by @kaislittlelamb originally!
w a r n i n g s: smut with very little plot, implied stalking, toxic relationships, throat fucking, blowjobs, Kai being Kai, violence, aggression.
a/n: this was originally a drabble, but got longer - very quickly written, sorry if it's horrible! definitely not my best. thanks for reading it, if you did!!! no taglist this time because it's a pain in the bootay.
full fic under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /
You'd met with Zack a few times now, but this was the first time you two had actually gotten to talk and get to know each other. He was cute, in a very boy next door sort of way; physically fit, a tousled mess of brown curls, bright green eyes, and bright, white teeth that probably got whitened bi-weekly.
"So, anyways, I moved here about three months ago after my mom moved here, and with her needing help, I figured I might as well stay." 
"Nice." You grinned. 
"Yeah, so I'm definitely still learning the best spots to eat..." 
You casually glanced around the restaurant, scanning the patrons next to you; you were an observer and enjoyed people watching, in all situations. Abruptly, several tables across from you, wavy, blue hair caught your attention. Your expression contorted into one of shock as your eyes trailed down the bridge of the nose, taking in the man's face. No fucking way. 
As though he felt that he was being watched, Kai turned mid-sentence, and immediately made eye contact with you. His brows rose slowly in surprise, and ultimately, delight. You blinked and turned away quickly, engulfing yourself back in the conversation. Or hoping to. But there was no escaping this. 
"Excuse me," you heard him say, before scooting his chair back. The legs scraped against the floor with an awkward sound, and Kai made his way over to you, navigating around the tables. 
Like a child trying to avoid being found, you almost considered sinking down in your seat, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Some luck you had. Some fucking luck. You rolled your eyes, shifting your shoulders. Zack watched you, studying your very apparent discomfort. You felt both men's eyes on you, and laughed nervously into your soda.
"Y/N..." Kai said. 
You said nothing in return, only smiled sarcastically and stirred your soda with the straw. 
"New boyfriend?" He asked, his tone dripping with faux-interest. You knew him. You knew him like the back of your hand, and he wasn't interested. He was waiting to incriminate you.
"No, actually." Zack interjected, bravely. "We're just getting to know each other. It's going well." 
You nodded, giving him a genuine smile. "It is." 
Kai tightened his smile further; the fakeness started to show through the cracks. "Good, good. Well, I just wanted to say hello. I'll leave you two lovebirds to finish your appetizers." 
"You know him?" 
"Unfortunately. Too well." 
"Ex-boyfriend?" Zack asked, popping another spinach-dip loaded chip into his mouth.
Sheepishly, you nodded.
"He looks familiar." 
"Yeah, you've probably seen him on TV. He's a councilman."
Zack snapped his fingers, pointing at you. "That's it! Anderson, right?" 
Again, you nodded. "Yep... that's the one." 
The waiter appeared, meals in hand. As you two ate, the conversation naturally melted away from Kai, which you were grateful for. Especially since it seemed like it was headed in the direction of Zack wanting to vote for him and agreeing with his campaign policies. Unfortunately, Zack fit the bill of one of the men that Kai would easily brainwash, and recruit to his noble cause.
Halfway through dessert, your phone buzzed. You knew who it was from without even looking. The message read: We should get together.
You quickly thumbed out a response. Why? 
Just to talk. 
Against better judgement, you agreed. The rest of the date was spent laughing about poorly written films in the last decade, but in the back of your mind, laughing was the last thing you wanted to be doing. The next hour was a blur. Zack had gone in for a kiss when he was leaving, which you returned, but only briefly. You were distracted. Painfully so. You went from the restaurant to Kai's, but you hardly remembered driving there. Your mind was on autopilot; a rotten, sour feeling bubbling in your stomach. Everything in you said that this was a bad idea, and yet, you gripped the steering wheel hard, looking at his front door.
You got out, locked your car and made your way up the pathway. You only knocked once before the door flew open. He stood tall. Proud. Unwavering. That overly confident, but calm smile plastered on his stupidly-handsome face. His hair hung at his cheeks, greasy as ever. He was pleased you'd shown up - you thought you saw a flicker of doubt that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't have. But you were a woman of your word, and you weren't going to show him that he was something to fear.
"So, when are you going to break it off with what's-his-name?" Kai asked as he took the basement stairs quickly, trotting down them. You followed, wordlessly, revelling in the familiar sensations. Once you'd stopped at the final step, you glanced forward, eyes locking on the brown leather couch. Out of all the memories that you'd had in that basement, the ones that rushed back were the ones where Kai was fucking you on that couch. Ruthless, merciless fucking until your back hurt and your insides felt like they'd been obliterated twice over. You blinked the images away, swallowing hard. Your head turned before your eyes met his. 
"Zack is actually very nice, and he'd probably treat me very well if I decided to pursue a relationship with him. But since when do you care who I'm with?" 
"It's my business." 
"No, it fucking isn't. It hasn't been for weeks. Last time I checked... I was uhhh, what was it? A stupid bitch?" That had become a favorite alias of his. You plopped down on the sofa, cushions giving way to your weight.
Kai bristled. "You know, you really should be careful what you post on social media." 
"Excuse me?" 
"You never know who could be watching." 
The realisation hits you like a freight train. Him being at the restaurant wasn't a coincidence, it wasn't bad luck. Kai knew exactly where you were going to be and he made it a point to be there. You’d replied to a friend in the comments of a post, telling her that you were going to be at that particular restaurant in the afternoon. He’d seen that.
"You've been.... fucking stalking me!?" 
Kai filled his chest with air, somehow standing taller than he already did. "You sure like to show off your cute little life, don't you? Pathetic little coffee outings and Tapas date nights. But what I want to know..." Kai trailed off, circling you like the pathetic little lamb you were. "...is who you go home and think about. Is it Zack? Or maybe Edward?"  
You felt the muscles underneath your eye twitch. 
"Or is it.... me?" 
Kai finally moved in front of you, his broad chest obscuring your view from everything else. His legs touched your knees. 
"Answer me." 
"I don't have to tell you anything, Kai. You aren't my boyfriend anymore."
"I said answer me!" Kai pressed his thumb and forefinger into your cheeks, making your lips pucker out like a stupid, confused fish. He yanked your head forward, bringing it up towards his. The action strained the muscles in your neck, but you didn't dare say that. This dynamic was very familiar to you. You'd been here before. 
"Seems like you need a little reminder."
A chill ran down your spine.
"Open your mouth." Kai's thumb traced your pouty lips softly, sweeping back and forth. He waited a few seconds, his face tight with impatience and when you didn't concede to his request, Kai forced your mouth open, pressing his fingers into your cheek flesh until you winced and dropped your jaw. 
"Good girl. Now, you're going to keep your mouth open until I say to close it. You understand?" 
You nodded, your tongue resting delicately on your bottom teeth. 
"I have a very important job for you. You're going to stroke my cock until it's hard and then I'm going to throat fuck you."
You held back a cringe. He was always so... direct. Direct with his intentions, direct with his words, direct with his actions. You supposed that was the main vein of why he was doing so well as a councilman; people liked the truth -- and regardless of validity, if something is delivered with enough confidence and directness, it's believed. 
You reached forward tentatively, undoing the button of his dark jeans. The zipper came next, one tooth at a time. You felt the heat of his groin as soon as you leaned forward to pull the jeans over his buttocks, turning your face away so that you weren't met with a mouthful of fabric. With a strong hand, you gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down over his balls - his dick flopped out, heavy and warm to the touch. You sucked a self-encouraging breath into your lungs and reached forward to grip his flaccid cock, inching your lips towards it.
"No." He bucked his hips backwards, furrowing his brows. "What did I say?"
You froze, backpedalled and began stroking, intentionally angling it towards your mouth. Kai let out a shallow breath, pressing his chin against his chest to watch you. You gave it a firm squeeze, and in response, his cock twitched in your grip; it didn't take long for it to swell and stiffen to capacity in your grasp. You paid some attention to the tip, spreading around the slithery pre-cum that had leaked from the slit.  
"I always liked that about you - your willing adherence to any and all demands. You know what I want." 
At least he was praiseful. He always had been, even in the late and toxic stages of your relationship. Still, you chalked it up to him enjoying the sound of his own voice and feeling like he was in control of the situation
Your free hand took hold of his balls, squeezing them softly. At that, Kai vocalized hungrily, grunting low in his throat. He was a very venous man; in any heightened state of emotion that got the blood flowing, his veins popped in his forehead, his neck, his hands... and his cock. Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his shaft, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.
You continued jerking it, finding a rhythm until Kai's large hand enveloped yours, forcing his cock out of your grasp to replace it with his own. Pumping his cock in and out of his hand a few times quickly, Kai hissed through his teeth, and took a fistful of your hair at the crown of your head. He immediately let go, and cupped the back of your head with his hand, stroking it softly. Tenderly -- like it meant something to him. It didn't. You were a stupid pawn in his story, another one of his dedicated cult members, and he regarded them all the same.
You closed your mouth to swallow, wetting the inside of it before returning to your previous, vulnerable position, tongue out, eyes lifted to meet his. Kai's pitch-dark eyes looked down at you with a roiling expectancy, one that spoke louder than words could. He slapped the tip of his cock against your waiting tongue, revelling in that first, startled flinch.
At first, he slid just the tip along the texture of your tongue, grinding against you, but it didn't take him long to penetrate. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat, and you closed your lips, bowing your head slightly to allow him further down your throat.
“How does that feel?” 
You nodded your head. Kai let out another throaty moan and picked up his pace, thrusting his hips hard into your face as you relaxed your throat as best you could, fighting your gag reflex. His cock filled your throat - violated it - the salty taste of his precum overwhelming your senses. Your nose burned and your eyes watered. You guessed that your eye makeup had begun to stream down your cheeks in ebony ribbons. 
Kai's visual was ethereal. You were coming undone before him - below him - as women should. In such a submissive state, you looked your best. He took a fistful of your hair and yanked you forward, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick. He felt the slick, strong contraction of your reflex and grit his teeth; you were withholding it, but the pathetic, whimpering sounds of your gags drove him forward. He pictured them, remembering all the times that he had been in a similar position with you. 
"Gag," he said, finally. "I want to hear your pain." 
When you didn't, Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his hair. That did it. With your eyes squeezed shut, your throat repeatedly rebelled. You coughed and gagged around his shaft, the tip still pressed against your tonsils. You finally opened your bleary eyes at him, straining them upwards to get a visual on him, to beg him wordlessly for relief. Kai flattened his hand on the back of your head and bunny humped your face, pulling more desperate gags from your throat.
"Who do you belong to?"
No response. Just a full-mouthed cough.
He took a fistful of your hair, pulling you hard off of his dick. THWACK! Kai's hand whipped across your face, leaving a welting streak of red in its wake. His cock bumped against the roof of your mouth as you nodded slowly, stunned from the sheer force. 
"I'll ask you one more time... who do you belong to?" 
Finally, you gave him another feeble nod and lifted your hand to press a single finger into his pectoral muscle.
"Good... that's what I like to hear. You remembered that it's rude to talk with your mouth full, too. I'm so proud of you."
Kai reinserted his cock into your waiting mouth, almost gently. That was everything but comforting, but this foreplay was familiar to you, and therefore, enjoyable. Sure, the way your throat burned as his dick hammered in and out might've teetered on the edge of discomfiting, but you'd been here before. You knew him, and at one point, you loved him.
You made an O around his cock as he dragged it out from the back of your throat, sucking gently. Kai began thrusting again, but less rhythmically than before. He was losing his steady pace, and that only meant one thing.
"Don't fucking stop," he breathed. "Keep going."
You closed your eyes again, two tears streaming down your blushing, caving cheeks. He was going to cum soon, you felt the tightness, the heat, the urgency behind his thrusts. Pumping his cock in and out of your swollen lips, Kai’s hand snapped to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he thrust remorselessly. 
A second later, he bottomed out again, and you felt his cock twitching, pulsing in your mouth as his orgasm washed down the back of your throat. You coughed a wet, sticky wet cough and Kai groaned, letting his head fall back into his shoulders. 
"Swallow. Fucking swallow it."
You did. You winced as your throat accepted the mouthful of blisteringly hot cum, salty and slightly unpleasant. Your mouth felt sticky and your throat was coated – you couldn't talk, not clearly. So, instead of telling Kai that you hated him, you just glared at him with fire in your gaze, baring your teeth at him like an angry dog.
“Aw, what? What, you hate me? Is that what you want to say?” 
You nodded.
“Go sit at the table. We’re going to talk about that.” 
236 notes · View notes
kiyosamu · 6 months
Text
Cheater, Cheater. ♡
———— ♡ ————
Pairing: Rintaro Suna x Reader
Synopsis: Suna’s cheating on his girlfriend with you. He can’t help it. You’re just so… addictive. Something about you. He’s obsessed.
CW(?): Implied smut, not explicit. Reader is shameless and doesn’t really care that he has a girlfriend. Reader is into him, but doesn’t want anything more (and he hates this).
———— ♡ ————
“Why do you lie to her so much?” You ask, tilting your head. His fingers tighten into your hips as you sit on his lap. “What’s the point?”
Suna sighs.
“Because she’s my girlfriend and I’m cheating on her with you. It’s not like I can just come clean with that information.” Suna leans in, kissing your neck softly. “It's fun. I don't love her like I love you. I don't feel real passion with her. I don't feel like she completes me. When I'm with you, I get that excitement. That rush.”
Suna stops for a moment, thinking of his next response before murmuring against your lips. “I have fun with my girlfriend, yeah, but that's it—fun. You make me feel… alive.”
“So?” You ask in response, pressing your lips back to his. “Why are you with her?”
“She’s good company. She’s my friend. She’s… comfortable, I guess. I can’t just break her heart like that.” Suna looks into your eyes. “I might not love her, but I do care for her. She just doesn’t give me what I need.”
You hum softly, sliding your hand under his shirt. “And? What is it that you so desperately need?”
Suna chuckles, his pupils slightly widening as your fingers softly trail circles on his toned abdomen. “I said it earlier—the excitement…”. He looks you in the eyes, his lips just barely an inch from yours as he whispers, “the passion… the rush.”
You nod, acknowledging his answer silently and resting your hands on your thighs. “Right, well. I gotta go.”
“Wait, no.” He rests his hands on top of yours. “Where? Why?”
“Relax, Rin. I have a final tomorrow.” You take his left hand and pull it close to your mouth, sucking on his index and middle fingers as you stare innocently into his eyes.
Suna groans, pulling his hand back. “You know that’s torture for me. Don’t do shit like that. Don’t look at me like that.”
You laugh softly, giving his cheek two little taps and getting out of his car. You lean in the passenger side window and continue your conversation. “I’ll see you later. Hopefully the sweet girl waiting up for you can take care of…” You glance down at his obvious erection. “That.”
“You’re such a bitch.” You smile wickedly as he says those words. “I like you, you know that?”
You roll your eyes. “You’ve told me once or twice. Bye, Rin.” Your smirk returns to your lips as you turn around, walking back through your college campus, swaying your hips with the knowledge that he was watching you.
——
Suna spends time idly pleasing his girlfriend by taking her for dinner and dessert. He couldn’t stand this. As much as he loved you, he couldn’t stand the sick thoughts running through his head as he sat across the table from such a kind girl. A good girl. Tall, blonde, athletic. They had so much in common. On paper, they made a great match. Perfect, even. But Suna was bored. She bored him, and he didn’t know why. She was safe.
You, on the other hand, were unpredictable. You didn’t fawn over him the way other girls did. Hell, he wasn’t sure you even liked him half the time. But when your lips met for the first time he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop. Ever. It was like a hit of the most delicious high he’d ever had. He wanted you. Even if you didn’t want him, you were his.
Suna begins to think of you the moment he’s alone again. You didn't want him to call or text you very often, so he contemplated just popping by your dorm. He wondered if that would be too much, and if he should wait until the next time he was on your mind.
Suna shrugged, threading his fingers through his hair.
Fuck waiting.
——
You lazily opened your eyes as your phone buzzed and woke you from your half asleep state.
>> I’m coming over.
You laugh to yourself, typing back.
<< I ruined you, didn’t I?
The response was instant.
>> Yeah, you really did.
You get up and open the door as you hear his footsteps in the hallway.
“Hi.” You grin, trailing your gaze down his tall, muscular body as he comes in.
Suna gives a soft grunt in response, shutting the door with his foot and sliding his hands down your sides, squeezing your ass.
“You have a good evening?” You ask, looking up into his eyes with a false innocence. “Good time with your girl? Have a good fuck?”
He nods, looking back into your stare. “Yeah, it was… alright.” His voice is quieter. It’s almost as if he was on autopilot, he was barely even listening to your words. Something else was on his mind. “Can I kiss you?”
You nod. Suna smiles and leans forward, putting his lips to yours. Your lips were different than hers. So soft and sweet, so delicious, he could never get enough. He pulls back for a moment and looks at you, his eyes squinting slightly as his fingertips caress your face. “You're so beautiful.”
You smirk up at him, putting your hand over one of his. “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”
A low moan leaves his lips as he kisses you again. “I know, I'm disgusting. But I can't help it.” He leans back slightly, looking at you. “I can't fucking help it, I need you. I need your lips… I need your hands on me.” Suna bites his tongue slightly and swallows. “And I need you so much that it hurts. I'm in so deep and I can't get out. My body needs you, my brain... God, I just want you so bad.”
“Hm.” You shrug. “It’s too bad you can’t have me.”
Suna slightly lowers his gaze and breathes sharply through his nose. “Why? Why can't I have you? I just want to feel you more. I just want to touch you more. To love you and to make you feel good in my arms.” He chuckles and takes a deep breath. “You're cruel, you know that?”
“I’m cruel? You’re the one with a girlfriend.” You shake your head, sliding your hands in the back pockets of his jeans as you continue to look up at him. “Plus, I don’t do relationships.”
“Of course you don’t.” Suna laughs quietly, “But you're just so damn tempting. You're so irresistible.” His fingers trail down your cheek and neck, stopping at your collarbone. “You could break my heart with the slightest touch.”
“Aww, poor baby. I’m sure you’d recover.” You tease.
He purses his lips in thought. “I'd never get over you. I'd feel the loss of you all the time.” He pulls away slightly and shuts his eyes. “But we could have... this. Just these moments, when we're with each other. Nothing more than that would be needed.” His eyes glance down to your lips. “You just tempt me so much. You're like a drug to me.”
You sigh, looking down. “So why do you even stay with her?”
“It's comfortable. I told you.” He frowns and looks at you. “I love her, I do, but it's never been like this with her. She'll never pull me in like you do. And fuck, you don’t even need to try.” Suna takes a deep breath. “I love spending time with her, but it's not the same. I love you so much. I'm so goddamn sick of her, even though I love her.
You lead him over to the couch, sitting next to him and resting your legs on his lap. “I’m sure you’re sick of me too, hm? Sick of how in love you are with me?”
He sighs and chuckles quietly. “So fucking sick of it. But God, I love it so much. I'm like... obsessed. With you. I swear, I think about you all the time. Suna shakes his head as he smiles at you. “God, I'm so screwed up. Look at me. I can't stop thinking about how much I want you.”
“I kinda like it.” You grin.
Suna bites his lip. “You do? You like seeing a guy obsessed with you? You like it when a guy wants to throw away his entire life and jeopardize his relationship all because of you?” He leans in again and kisses you, pulling you on his lap. “And to think you call me the sick fuck.”
You kiss him back, grinding your hips down on his. Suna lets out a low groan.
“You're so cruel.” He chuckles quietly. “I'm literally obsessed with you. I don't care about anything else. My grades, my team, any of it. I just want you.” He kisses you again, his hand slowly sliding down your back. “You really like seeing me lust after you this much?”
You smile against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair and opening your mouth slightly. He moans softly, gripping your thighs tightly and grinding back up into you.
The two of you separate as you’re startled by knocking on your dorm room door. Your name is called, your best friend practically in hysterics as she calls for you. “Are you home? Please tell me you’re home. I think he’s cheating on me.”
Suna’s eyes widen. The last person he expected to interrupt the two of you was his girlfriend.
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nsharks · 1 year
Text
bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part nine —other parts
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: no comment
The beam gave a nasty cut to your hand.
Tetanus, blood, infections— more threats.
You sit on a rock by the river to fix it up. Before you can dab on the hydrogen peroxide from your new med kit, Blue insists on doing it for you— soft fingertips against your broken skin. She is by far a gentler nurse than her father. You focus on her pink cheeks and scrunched nose as she concentrates. It helps you ignore the sting.
"You scared the shit out of me for a second there, Twix.”
"Sorry. I guess I need to work on my balance."
She gives a stilted laugh. The gauze comes next, just a thin layer since the bleeding has already stopped.
"Thanks for asking him to help me," you add in a whisper. You smile. "I don't think I've ever had a friend save my life so many times."
Blue cuts the gauze and begins tying it off. "I didn't actually have to ask him this time, you know. Like I said, he doesn’t hate you.”
You glance to where Ghost has taken the short break to lean against a tree and drink some water, pale jaw and pink lips exposed. An actual human hides under all that gear and horrifying mask. It annoys you that he doesn't just take it off.
You look back at her, eyes rolling. “You're lying."
She closes the med kit and shrugs. “Friends don't lie."
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The afternoon sun bleeds white light over your cheeks as the three of you keep walking. Just meters away from the river, Ghost points out a small cabin. One that hunters used back in the day, you bet. He says it could be a good place to stay for the night. The scent of the rushing water nearby should do some to mask your human scent.
Rolling hills take place of the trees. To the west, you can see the faint outline of mountains dipped in white snow. Well, as much of mountains as you can find in England. They are not nearly as tall as the ones your parents used to take you skiing to in France.
You grow quiet and let Blue do all the talking. Maybe you are embarrassed after almost falling into the river.
Just when she asks - How much further? - something strange pops up in the distance. White medical tents— well, you assume they were once white. They are now torn and grey, with some blue crates beneath them. Confusion swells in your chest and you can't help but speak up.
"Why is this all here?" you ask, your boots stepping over some stray medical tools. Scalpels, tweezers, and syringes. Pressed into the rich earth like fossils. You would pick them up if they weren't rusted past the point of being useful.
"I don't know," Blue answers. "Ghost?"
"Emergency medical camp the military set up," he says. 
"After shit happened?" she asks.
He gives a curt nod as he looks around at the remnants. "Those that were left were tryin' to help survivors in the first few days. Didn't last long, though."
"Is that what your friends were doing after you ditched them?"
"Told you, kid. They weren't my friends."
"Alright, teammates. Whatever. Were they helping with injured people here?" she asks curiously.
"A few of them were.”
Blue looks at you. "Twix, did I ever tell you about that?"
"Um. About what?"
"Well, Ghost was supposed to be working when shit happened," she raises her brows and juts a thumb at him. "But he snuck away from his post to get all our stuff and come find me and my mum."
You swallow at the mention of her mom and avoid looking at Ghost. "Snuck away?"
"Yeah," she nods, "It's called dessert."
"Desertion," he gruffly corrects her.
"What?" you ask.
"He abandoned his assignment," she explains. "But he always says he would do it again if he had to. Anyway, he used to talk to his teammates on his radio to see how they were and stuff— what was happening. But then they got too far away for it to work."
Of course Ghost had a radio.
Paul had one, too. You can remember huddling around that radio like it was a mouthpiece for some god. The static grew choppier and choppier over the first few days. The channels dwindled. Eventually, it stopped working altogether and you didn't learn much about what happened in the outside world. You did learn that London was one of the quickest cities to succumb to the infection. Then, Paris, Bangkok, and Chicago.
Everywhere.
You process the new information as you keep walking through the tents, peering into some opened crates to see if anything is left— nothing is.
Now you know Ghost left his post when he found out about the virus. He stocked up on supplies and then got Blue and her mom. By the way Blue mentions her, it must be an old loss. How long did her mother survive with them, then? Did she use to live in the cabin with them?
You don’t know why your stomach grows tight, but the questions in your brain fade once the military base comes into view.
"Finally," Blue sighs rather dramatically.
A high, chain-link fence surrounds the place. There are a few buildings and some abandoned vehicles that look like jeeps. The fence has multiple gaps cut into it so climbing is unnecessary. Ghost leads the way. You continue sniffing the air. With your bandaged hand, you keep your bow poised and subconsciously walk closer to their footsteps. 
Ghost takes you to the main building in the center. The British flag flutters beside it on a pole, faded and as meaningless as the one sewn on Ghost’s bicep.
"Are we going through the barracks again this time?" Blue perks up.
"We have to go through 'em to get to the armory,” he says.
"Cool. There might be some good shit left behind."
There isn't much good shit, actually.
You don't know what the other military base they went to was like, but this one is unsettling and seems to be ransacked. Sunlight pours in through the shattered windows. Scattered papers and strewn bones decorate the tile floors. Thick cobwebs hang in the corners.
As you walk through the hallway of old dorms, Blue and Ghost stop looking in them after the first four turn out to contain only tipped-over cots, walls smeared with old blood, and even a few scampering vermin that make her yelp and grab hold of Ghost's arm.
He grows stiffer than usual. You don’t have to pry off the skull mask to know what he is thinking. Ghost is not the only person who thought of coming here. If these rooms are mostly empty, then what is left in the armory?
Still, you check out a few more of them on your own as they walk up ahead. You rummage through closets and drawers. You find three pairs of men's socks. More useful than one might think.
In one room, you kneel down by the unkempt cot to dig a black backpack out from under it. You can’t believe that Ghost, as big as he is, ever slept on these things. The backpack’s zipper catches as you try to open it, the metal teeth rusted, so you cut a hole in the fabric with your knife. Inside, you find another military-grade knife to add to your arsenal and some wrapped ready-to-eats.
When you check the closet, the sight of a full skeleton causes you to jump back in a startled step, a few rats running out between your boots.
"Oh, fuck," you mutter, noticing a bullet hole in the skull. A handgun lies beside the body, but you discover the magazine to be empty. Whatever bullet it once had was likely spent on this person's suicide. You stick it in your bag, anyway. A preserved uniform hangs loose on the bones. There is a mouth-sized tear in the forearm of the right sleeve, fitting for a bite. In the breast pocket, a silver chain spills out. Curiously, you grab it. A dog tag with an engraved name catches the light. John MacTavish. You run a thumb over the letters.
“Sorry, John.”
You decide to respectfully put it back in the pocket, and head out, satisfied enough with your modest finds. It’s not like you own as much as Ghost does. You leave the room and run to catch back up with them.
"You okay? Find anything?" Blue asks.
"Not much," you quietly admit. "A knife and some new socks."
"Finally. Your old ones are starting to stink," she remarks with a playful smirk.
You scrunch your nose at her, making a face. “Gee, thanks."
She returns the teasing gesture just before Ghost’s arm ushers her behind him.
The moment he does, your guard rises back up. You slap an arrow onto your bow. You smell them before you see them. Four - no, five - drag out of opened doorways up ahead along with a cacophony of whistled moans. Most are still dressed in the same military uniforms as the skeleton you found. One isn't wearing anything at all. It’s disgusting.
Ghost doesn't bother to let Blue practice this time.
He shoots the faster, fresher one first as it runs up to them. For the slower ones, he saves his ammo and opts for the axe. The sight of him effortlessly striking their skulls is almost enough to distract you. Almost. Your fingers release the string and send a headshot to the last one. It is a perfect shot. An arrow straight through the milky-white eye. One of your best.
You meet his eyes just as he slips the axe back to his waist, shooting him a raised brow. The two of you hold an awkwardly long stare-off. Though you loathe to admit it, you hope for some type of approval - for once - but all he gives is a short nod.
Blue retrieves the arrow for you and you tuck it back into your quiver.
"Great aim, Twix," she quips. "Where did you learn how to use your bow?"
"My old friend taught me a bit," you say as the three of you step over the fallen corpses.
"What was his name again?"
"Paul."
"Oh, right." She pauses, and then: "Were you having sex with him?"
"Jesus Christ, kid," Ghost says.
"What?" She peers up at him.
Before he can say anything else, you answer with a light flush crawling up your neck, “No, I wasn’t. He was just my friend.”
The three of you make it to the armory.
The aluminum door is already parted open. Ghost clicks on a flashlight and gives the room a quick sweep of fluorescent light before entering.
A number of pried-open crates and olive-green cabinets litter the inside. Drawers hang open like a tornado ripped through. A few stray rifles lay scattered on the floor. Ghost picks up each one and checks for cartridges. Empty. Each rifle is thrown back on the floor with more force than the previous. He needs more ammo, not more guns.
Whatever was in this armory is gone. This truth hangs heavy in the air. The mood shifts. Blue doesn’t talk. Billows of growing frustration roll off Ghost's body as he continues to search through every crevice and every drawer for almost an hour.
You know what he is feeling, even if he half-expected this.
It is a feeling that made you cry in the empty pharmacy. For Ghost, it ends up driving a clenched fist into one of the cabinets, dented metal left in its wake. He swears explosively. Another shudder runs through your spine, stealing your breath, but it feels far different from the one his soft voice invited.
"Is there... is there anywhere else we can check, Dad?" Blue speaks up softly. “Maybe in all those cars outside?”
He takes a moment to breathe before answering. "We don't have time to check ‘em all.”
“Well, maybe we could come back in the morning and look a bit more?”
“Maybe,” he says, but you read the tone in his voice. It is unlikely there is ammo left in the vehicles, and even if there is, it is definitely not as much as he was hoping to have found in here.
Before leaving, he stuffs one of the rifles in his backpack. An uncomfortable silence consumes the journey back through the hall.
You make it outside again. The afternoon has aged. You need to get back to that hunting cabin by the river before the threat of dark.
Ghost guides you back towards the fence.
You hear Blue's soft humming. The flap of the old flag. Your own steady heartbeat.
And then, out of nowhere, he stops and grabs Blue's arm to bring her to a halt beside him. He looks around. Confused, you scan the view up ahead of you, but all that is there are a few of those military jeeps and the fence you entered through. You sniff the air. It doesn't smell particularly awful. 
Then, the cause for Ghost's unease arrives loud in your ears.
A single gunshot sounds from a direction you can't discern. Your heart stutters. The suddenness freezes you for a moment. In your peripheral, you think you catch a brush of movement in some bushes to your right.
Ghost quickly pulls Blue behind one of the vehicles for cover. Only when you feel the rush of another bullet whizzing past your shoulder do your legs finally move— so fast that your feet catch on the ground and you stumble down beside them. Your knees dig into the earth as you land on your hands, but you quickly lift up and press your shoulder against the side of the car. 
You choke. "Ghost… people."
People are fucking shooting at us, is what you mean to say. Panic steals your voice.
Who? How many?
Another bullet ricochets off the other side of the car, clanking against the metal. And then another. Glass shatters. 
Ghost doesn't respond to you. Underneath the loud sounds, a soft voice whimpers. You finally look to where Blue is propped up against the large tire, Ghost kneeling at her front. His hand is tightly clamped over the side of her right thigh, and it is now that you notice the blood soaking through her jeans and his glove.
Blue's blood.
Crimson and glistening.
She whimpers again and her fingers twist the fabric of his coat.
"Dad, it— it feels like it's burning," she cries out, her cheeks turning wet from a sudden onslaught of tears.
"Fuck. I know, baby. I know."
She flinches when another gunshot rings out. "W-What do we do?"
You try to form a proper thought— try to make sense of everything. Before you can, Ghost grabs your hand, firmly replacing his hold on her wound with yours. The warm liquid immediately drenches your palm and you swallow, pressing as hard as you can, attempting to pack it crudely.
He speaks decisively. "Stay here with her. Wrap it up.”
"Ghost, you don't know how many fucking people there are," you say, panic turning your voice into something unrecognizable as you place your other hand on his arm. The muscles tense and leap.
“I didn't fucking ask you. I am telling you. Now do it."
He doesn’t give you the opportunity to protest again, but you wouldn’t even if he did because you fully realize that this is the best course of action. He needs to get rid of them. You need to tend to her wound. A strangled cry leaves Blue's lips when he departs. You coax her with soft hushes.
"It’s okay. He'll be right back.”
Urgently, you sling the bag off your shoulder and take out your own med kit. You don’t think twice about it. Not for a second. Not when all you can think about is making sure her soft, blue eyes stay open. When you move your hand from her thigh, the sight worries and relieves you at the same time.
You don't know much about bullet wounds, but you know where the femoral artery runs, and by the looks of it, it was missed. Still, a nice chunk of her flesh has been torn, revealing obliterated muscle. You don't see any bone or bits of metal, but it is hard to see much of anything with all the blood.
With fingers that shake, you use the same gauze she nursed your hand with to begin tightly dressing her thigh. As you do, your eyes flash up and around in a feeble search for where Ghost could be, but you can’t see him from behind the vehicle.
"Is it bad?" she asks, voice laced with a tremor. When your gaze returns to her, you notice that pale lips replace her usual rosy-pink ones. Her forehead is sheened with sweat.
"It looks worse than it is," you say.
"Are you... are you telling me the truth?"
"I am. Promise," you whisper. "Friends don't lie, right?"
Sporadic gunfire continues to pierce your ears. It sounds more distant now. You have no idea if it belongs to Ghost or whoever these people are. You push the uncertainties away, assuring yourself that he can handle however many of them there are, and focus on tying off the gauze, desperate to keep her blood in.
Blue suddenly blurts out, “Twix.”
You look up and meet her eyes. They are pointed at something behind you.
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