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#my love is messy and strong large and hard but its real and its here even if yoh dont feel her presence
apple-bread · 9 months
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buckyalpine · 8 months
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Buttercup
Bucky x Reader
Childhood friends to lovers. Thought of this randomly and I thought it was so cute because imagine chubby baby Bucky in love with his cute little neighbor. Imagine this little boy with his messy mop of brown hair on his head, rosy cheeks, blushing over his friend who he adores so much. He toddles over to her porch, excited over the very important game of hide and seek they had planned for the day.
Y/n, y/l/n, or Buttercup according to him is his favorite person in the whole world besides Stevie. He loves Steve, he knows he does, but Buttercup is different. He gets these little butterflies in that chubby belly of his whenever they play together. He's usually a rambunctious devil but not at all with her. If she wants a tea party, he'll sit with her on her yard with a picnic mat spread out, always sneaking a few cookies from the jar for them to share.
She really likes the swing that hangs on the branch of the tree in front of his house. He'll push her with all his might till she squeals with laughter; a big toothy grin on his face when she says faster Bucky. When she trips over and scrapes her knee, he's dashing to his house to find a band aid, blowing on the cut just like his ma does when he hurts himself, he's so careful with his shaky little hands.
"Tank you Bucky" You say between a sniffle, kissing his cheek without thinking, the both of you innocently blinking at each other before running off and playing again. All Bucky knows is that he wants Buttercup by his side for his whole entire life.
So imagine his joy when he finds out its a possibility.
He's in his nicest buttoned shirt, tucked into his dress pants and polished shoes, hair combed over to the side. He kicks his legs while sitting with his mother, father and sisters, watching one of their family friends recite their vows at the altar. Winnifred already had to place her hand on his leg twice to keep him still, warning him that he had to behave at weddings since it was an important day.
"Why are they getting married?" He asks, wondering what the big deal was if they were in church on a Saturday.
"Because they care about each other Jamie, they'll be happy together forever" She whispers, pulling her squirmy little one onto her lap so he can see better.
“Can me and y/n get married mama?” He asks with large innocent eyes, hopeful she’ll say yes.
“You wanna marry y/n, huh?” She coos, brushing back the strands of soft hair that cover his forehead. “Y’know you’ll have to take care of her baby”
“I know” He nods with confidence, of course he'd always take care of his Buttercup.
“And you’ll have to work real hard" Again he nods, just waiting for her to say yes, maybe he can get married tomorrow! "You gotta love her with all your heart"
"I do mama, I do!"
"Then one day baby boy, one day you can marry her"
"But I wanna marry her now!" Bucky doesn't understand what the issue was, he knew he loved his Buttercup right then and there, why did he have to wait?
"Just wait a little while okay? My sweet little boy" Winifred laughed at her baby's fallen face, kissing his flushed cheek. "Before you know it, it'll be your turn"
Patience wasn't Bucky's strong suit but if it meant he'd be with you, he'd wait as long as he had to. He sat on the soft grass with you under the shade of a tree, sipping on a cup of lemonade your mom had brought out for you both.
“I wanna marry you” he pouts, "But mama says I have to wait and dad said I gotta ask p'mission first"
"Then we can be best f'wends forever?" You ask excitedly and he grins in response.
"F'wends forever"
"You promise?"
"I promise"
Now I thought about stopping this fic here but....
Some may have thought that eventually his puppy love lose its fire but no. His crush doesn't ever die down. Not when he nicks a flower from his mothers prized garden when you turn 5. Not when he gives you his favorite brown bear for Christmas. Not when he saves up all his allowance to buy you your first porcelain doll for your 10th birthday. It just grows and grow until he stands before you, wiping the tear that slips down your cheek when he comes to say good bye before going off to the army.
“One day m’gonna marry you doll" He whispers, doing his best to blink back his own tears while you sniffle against his chest.
"You promise?" You ask him with the same innocent doe eyes you had when you were little,
"I promise" He hugs you tighter, not wanting to let you go, the both of you spending the afternoon under the same shady tree. His mothers ring is kept safely in a box, tucked away in his room. He'd spoken to your father in private as soon as you'd both turned 18, not wanting to waste a second. All he had to do was return, safe and sound to his Buttercup.
Bucky goes through hell, sees the worst things imaginable, some days he struggles to keep his eyes open, cuts and wounds littering his battered body. However, when he closes his eyes and thinks about her smile, the way he'd get butterflies when she giggles, he knows he has to survive and come home. It doesn't matter how hard it is to keep going now because one day it'll all be worth it.
Which is why he practically runs home once the war is over, zipping in and out of his house and up to the porch next door, panting with flushed cheeks. He hears shuffling on the other side, his heart beating erratically while clutching onto the ring, the knob clicking open.
"Buttercup?"
"Jamie!" You gasp, tears running down your face in no time as you throw your arms around him, your feet lifting off the ground as he spins you. "You're back!"
"I promised you doll" He presses his forehead against yours before sinking down on one knee, smiling up at you while you choke back a sob, his hand holding onto yours.
"Buttercup, will you-
"Yes, Jamie yes!!" You nod frantically, while he happily slips the ring onto your finger before kissing you deeply, only pulling away to breathe. He doesn't give you long, pulling you back for more, his tongue laced with yours, unbothered that you're both on the porch, most of the neighbor watching quietly with steamy eyes.
Honestly, imagine how emotional everyone would be seeing the handsome soldier with his beautiful sweet bride up at the altar, going rom little babies to children to two souls that were meant to be together from the start. So cute.
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crypticjackal13 · 2 years
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Redson x Demon fem!s/o who's the opposite of him (E.g. Calm and soft spoken) That's just as smart as him and works with him as both a Lab partner and romantic partner, but unfortunately due to her temperament she is often see as a weaker demon when in reality she's secretly (even to Red) super strong, but doesn't show it unless it's a emergency, like turning into a terrifying, giant, multi armed kaiju to protect Red.
Yesssss I love this idea. Had to look up what exactly a kaiju is, and even then I found mostly Godzilla stuff? So forgive me if my descriptions are a little messy as I tried to be more vague
"Where's My Epic Background Music?"(761 w.c)
Redson x Demon!Fem!Reader romantic one shot
Pronouns: she her
CW: little bit of bl00d, some light viol3nce
“This stupid bolt won’t stay in place!” Redson growled, pretty close to just melting the metal back to its liquid state on his own. But y/n stepped in, coming up behind her lover and handing him the fresh set of pliers he’d asked for. 
“Red, I can hear you from down the hall. Take a second, alright?” She continued holding his hand that was reaching for the tool, making eye contact. He was stiff, with the ends of his hair starting to become inflamed. But at her gentle tone, he sighed, and she could literally see the steam coming off of him as he calmed down. Slowly but surely. 
“Thank you, beloved.” He mumbled, turning away from his newest project. A new motorbike, of sorts, though she knew there had to be a transformation in there somewhere. 
“What about we go get something to eat? You’ve been cooped up in here since you got out of bed this morning.” She suggested. The fire demon hummed, looking at the blueprints he’d worked so hard on, and the bike behind him that had taken him the better part of several hours to assemble. 
“I guess we can. Where would you like to go?”
“There’s a cafe not far from the arcade, I hear they’ve got some really nice pastries.”
“As you wish. Come, we’ll take my car.”
The pair got their jackets and hopped into the large vehicle, driving from what was essentially Hell to the city. At y/n’s request, Redson abided by traffic laws, though it was tempting for him to absolutely total the stupid little car in front of them that cut them off.  
“This is the place!” She pointed to a small building with an alleyway next to it, where there was a chalkboard sign advertising some chai tea drink. It wasn’t overly cutesy, which was probably for the best. Redson would’ve gotten all hissy about being there. 
Walking in, nothing was off-putting. The service was nice and much faster than other places y/n had taken Redson to eat at. 
The real problem showed up when it came time to go back to the car and head home.
The first red flag of the situation was the stranger standing against the side of the car, which was already reason enough for Redson to get angry at. The person was lanky, though both Red and y/n could see the threatening aura they put off. In these situations, not only did Red take the lead, the problem was usually dealt with in a fast manner to avoid unwanted attention. However something about this just wasn’t right.
“It’s a nice car you’ve got here. Nice girlfriend, too.” The person complimented. Redson had no problem waltzing up to the guy and trying to intimidate them right back.
“Thanks. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have places to be.”
In mere seconds, a knife was pressed to his throat, one with symbols written on it that y/n could tell were meant to hold Red in one spot or at least leave an impact if the weapon was to make contact. 
But at the same time, y/n was willing to ditch being passive for the sake of her lover. So as soon as she saw a thin line of blood, she jumped into action. She let go of her human form and grew several sizes larger, multiple arms on her torso and primed to tear limbs if needed. She was quite a sight for both figures below her.
Enough to make the stranger drop their grip on Redson along with the weapon.
“Hey, no harm no foul, right?” They tried to reason with her. 
“Run. Far, far away, and don’t come back.” She warned. They scrambled to get moving, heeding her words immediately as they took off. Once she was sure that they were gone, she transformed back into her regular form and went up to her partner.
“I love when you get all frightening. It’s fun.” He praised her. He dusted himself off, but then held still as she inspected the cut on his neck.
“Hang on, I have some napkins.” She mumbled, digging in her pockets for the napkins she took from the cafe. When she found them, she cupped his face and moved to clean the small wound that was just beginning to drip.
“Thank you, y/n. Now, shall we?” Redson unlocked the vehicle and opened the door for her. She climbed in gingerly, giving him a smile. 
Looks could be so deceiving, could they not?
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mamamittens · 9 months
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As part of my propaganda for vampire au event, here's some dubiously spicy headcanons for the usual selection of Bois
Notes before going in, biting isn't supposed to hurt. Ideally, you wouldn't feel anything at all. The less their intended meal struggles the better they can properly drink. Even if they're stupid strong handling a squirming human without killing them outright is hard, alright? And most prefer the human alive at the time as the blood isn't so difficult to drink and its... dynamic? Like, the flavor changes slightly as chemical reactions take place while the human reacts to the bite. This is accomplished through either saliva numbing the area or some variation of hypnosis.
Or maybe the human is a bit of a freak and likes pain. It's whatever.
You don't have to drink from the neck, it's just the biggest, most open area where there's a main vein to tap into. Technically they could drink from anywhere but if it's actually for sustenance it's just easier to go for a vein. It's like drinking from a straw or through a wet rag. Less messy if you do it right too.
If you saw the last vampire headcanon post, you may have noticed that they didn't all have the same restrictions, weaknesses, or strengths. This largely depends on age, ancestry, and character. Vampires who view themselves as loathsome creatures have more 'demonic' weaknesses and strong adverse effects from those weaknesses. Older ones tend to have an aversion to religious symbols, but typically only those that actually mean something to them. The rose is a sign that they're quite sentimental.
Now! Onto the headcanons!
Ace
Ace doesn't typically feel comfortable drinking from people he likes. Self-conscious and afraid of causing harm. So he will usually drain his criminal victims dry and snap their neck at the end of it.
But if he were to drink from a friend, he'd do it in an embrace. Clinging tightly to them and crying after using a ridiculous amount of spit to numb the area. Mindlessly running his hand over their back and only taking exactly as much as he needs without causing harm and not a drop more.
But if he was in love? Oh, he'd be almost bawling. Barely touching them as he takes as slow and soft sips as possible. He craved this, you see. This is the most intimate thing he could think of in a very masochistic way. It would be a real struggle to not keep taking and taking--but then their knees go weak and he's holding them up. Letting them lean against him and he stops drinking entirely to soothe them from the dizziness. Clinging to them as they rest and forcing treats into their shaking hands. He's so damn guilty of letting his desire run away from him but he refuses to leave them vulnerable.
He only wants to hold them now and it will take a lot of convincing to have him try that again. But after the first time he won't slip so deeply again in his thirst, that's for damn sure.
Marco
He enjoys having a connection to his uh... Meals. So he won't typically drink from strangers. His favorite place is the throat because of how quickly he can register destress with his lips pressed there. But he is willing to drink from the wrist for smaller meals.
Often, he'll tease by getting on his knees and peppering the delicate skin of their wrist with kisses and complimenting them. The intimacy just adds a bit of zest.
Lovers... Well, lovers are held in his arms, back to chest. Laying back against him as he drinks from their neck as he runs his hand over their body lazily. In no particular rush and occasionally stopping to give them a drink or eat something. Likes drawing it out as a bit of foreplay, leaning into the euphoria blood loss can induce.
He always knows exactly what he's doing though, so there's never any permanent harm done. And his days of accidental slip ups are long past him... Can't guarantee that if this meal occurs in the middle of sex though. He's got... Other things on his mind then. It's actually a little embarrassing and he gets whiny if he's stopped from drinking in the middle of it.
Thatch
Also one to have close relationships with humans he drinks from. And as previously stated he trades in meals, so he tries not to drink too much or from somewhere that would impede their ability to enjoy food. So not usually wrists for silverware reasons.
The throat is okay though as long as he keeps it low enough. He has, on occasion, drank from a wine glass after draining a bit of blood so that the whole meal isn't interrupted for his own needs, but it's not his favorite thing to do. Thankfully his guest/meal is already sitting but he's quite good at telling when he's taken enough.
His meals are always designed to assist in recovering from blood loss and he has rooms for them to stay in if they're too dizzy to leave.
Lovers will find the dining experience much more... Intimate. Slow sips as he's got them nestled in his side, peppering their skin with praise and questioning how they like the food. If he's feeling frisky the dining experience is much more hands on. Feeding by hand and caressing their skin.
His all time favorite place to drink is actually the thigh. Really satisfying bitting into the more thick limb, but he feels greedy when he does it so he'll... Add a little spice while he's down there. It only makes the taste better on his palette so he doesn't mind at all holding his lover down while... Doing down.
And no, this doesn't just happen in the bedroom. Personal dining is... Quite a hands on experience with Thatch as a lover.
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thebreakfastgenie · 1 month
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I’m curious why you like the newsroom? It always seemed like just like a mash of the The West Wing’s prestige thrown in with Sports Night’s setting and archetypes and trying way too hard to make us feel bad for Will.
I watched the first two seasons while I was in high school and the last season my first year of college. That's an age where media can rewire your brain. It was also the first Sorkin show I saw, I actually watched it before The West Wing.
I do think it shares a lot of traits with previous Sorkin works (they don't call them Sorkinisms for nothing) but I don't agree with how you describe it here. For one thing I've never considered The West Wing truly prestige; at its heart I think it's network television and the reason it got such a strong response is it operated on a level that network television usually doesn't. I've joked about mapping the archetypes from Sports Night onto the Newsroom before, but I don't think that's fair as a serious analysis. A lot of shows operate with the same basic archetypes just for storytelling reasons and I think that's all it is, with a little dash of Sorkinism on top. It's not the same setting as Sports Night and it's one that's much more interesting to me. Sports Night is about a sports show and it works because it's character-driven, but as the success of The West Wing and the failure of Studio 60 demonstrate, Sorkin does best when he has a setting with really lofty stakes. A major news channel has much loftier stakes than a sports show. To the extent that it's The West Wing meets Sports Night I think that's a good thing, because it melds some of Sorkin's strengths from both shows. But hey, three of his four shows are about television behind the scenes.
I think the Newsroom is very different from Sorkin's other shows, because it was on HBO, because it was made a few years later, and also because he was working with some different collaborators and you can tell. At the time it came out, it was making a very good point about the role of cable news in society (it's a bit dated now because cable news has since been largely supplanted by social media).
I responded really well to the characters, and a lot of my continuing fondness for the show comes from that attachment. I think there are some genuinely great performances in that show. I like all three seasons, but it's definitely a show of diminishing returns, but I rewatched it within the last couple years and I think the first season holds up as a really strong piece of television. I love the gimmick of setting the show a couple of years behind the present in order to use real news stories and my biggest criticism of the later seasons is Sorkin didn't stay committed to that. I think when it was new it offered a really interesting perspective on events we all remembered unfolding. I think about that a lot now when political memory seems so short.
The show is absolutely trying too hard to make us feel bad for Will and I think I love him in way more of a "god, he sucks" way than Sorkin intended me to. But Jeff Daniels is so good in that role that I can't not care about him. He's funny and that goes such a long way with me.
I've come to view Will and Mac as the kind of messy, toxic, "it's good that they're together so they stay away from everyone else" couple and I really enjoy them that way.
The moment that really gets me is when Will meets the "what makes America the greatest country in the world?" girl again and says "you do." The entire first season is a refutation of "this generation is the worst" and it drives me nuts that that clip went viral without the follow-up because it totally mischaracterizes the show.
Some of the character arcs are really messy, but some of them are great, like Don. There's enough to keep me coming back.
Also I'm a lesbian and the cast includes both Jane Fonda and Olivia Munn.
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booksandabeer · 1 year
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I really like your blog and your fanfiction recs. You've read a lot of Stucky it seems. I'm still pretty new to the ship and it can get overwhelming so for now I'm sticking to the most popular ones. Do you think that I can skip any of the *legendary* fics? Are there any you think are overhyped and not really worth it? A lot of them are very long too. thanks. 🌟✨
Hello anon, thanks for your ask and your kind words. Welcome to the Stucky Experience™.
Now… *big sigh* This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a couple of days now and I have been debating with myself whether to answer it at all. Tbh, it feels a bit like I’m being tested on my willingness to be Messy on Main. But assuming that you asked this question in good faith, I will try to give the best answer I can here. However, if you expect me to name actual titles, I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed.
First of all, 'overhyped' or 'not worth it' are a kinda strong words to be throwing around. Are there so-called “legendary” fics that are (seemingly) universally adored in the fandom that I personally think are only okay to quite good? Sure. Sometimes there are even very good ones, but I still fail to see what all the extreme fuss is about, or why this or that one in particular gets hyped up so excessively. But. Even if something isn’t the be-all and end-all of fics for me personally, I can almost always understand why other people like or even love them. Not everything needs to be for everyone. And if you’re a Stucky shipper, you’re not exactly hard-up for options. You don’t have to read stuff you already know you will most likely not enjoy even if the large majority of the fandom keeps yelling about its brilliance (that being said, try to branch out every once in a while, you might be pleasantly surprised!). I think by now I’ve read almost all the “Big Ones” that I wanted to, but there are a few super-popular fics left I will probably never read because they are simply not for me (bc of tropes, tone, certain ship dynamics, kinks, etc.). And again, that is fine.
I think I can only think of two stories where I truly, genuinely do not understand at all what people see in them. One I think is considered a fandom classic and my general response to it can be summed up as a dismayed “what the fuck, really?” and the nicest thing about the characterizations I can say is that, yes, there are two characters in it named Steve and Bucky. Make of that what you will.
The second one is more complicated. I’m not exactly sure if it qualifies as “legendary” but it is certainly very popular in apparently all corners of the fandom, which is a feat in itself, but even more so for a fic written after 2019, and I. Just. Don’t. Get. It. The thing is, it is very well-written, has an intricate and engaging plot, and it addresses some things that are often glossed over in other fics in a very smart and thoughtful way. And these are the very reasons why I kept reading until the (for me) bitter end. Usually, if something doesn't work for me at all, I just stop reading and move on. But in this case I kept thinking “surely this can’t be it; there must be a twist coming real soon, right?” But no, the central romance really is based on a premise and subsequently a relationship dynamic that to me is absolutely appalling, where Character A gets fucked over repeatedly, and is relegated to the role of glorified servant/caretaker for large parts of the story, while Character B gets to have it all twice over—and then some! And not once does this ever get addressed as even slightly problematic or imbalanced, but instead is celebrated as A Great Triumph of Enduring Love. ...and everybody went BONKERS for it. Meanwhile, I was standing on the sidelines, absolutely baffled, wondering if maybe I just didn’t get the same drugs as everybody else. But you know what? It's fine. Maybe I'm wrong and everybody else is right (sure seems like it!), and I'm certainly not the arbiter of Good Taste in Fanfic. So yeah, it all comes back to 'like what you like and let other people like what they like.' It will make your experience in fandom so much better, I promise.
Anyway, I hope you got something out of this anon, and enjoyed this edition of “J very vaguely rambles on about fanfiction.”
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elysianslove · 3 years
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getting passed and railed by the msby black jackals: a guessing game 
as requested, here’s another version of the guessing game. there’s also an inarizaki version! let me know which team i should do next :)
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the first to have his hands on you picks you apart calculatingly slow. his hands are large, pressing at your thighs, spreading you open for him, trailing up to your breasts, gripping and squeezing and pinching at them till you’re gasping for him. he spends so much time with his hand between your thighs, fingers buried in your cunt, until you’re crying, begging, sobbing for more, drenching his palm and the bed beneath you. when you’re properly fucked out from his fingers, he finally shows mercy, and pulls away, ridding himself of his clothes. his self control is strained as he approaches you, his cock hard and dripping in his hand while he strokes it. he wants to leave a mark on you, wants you to be sure you’ll never the feel the way you will with anyone else but him, and it shows when he finally sinks inside of you, teeth gritted and a hiss spilling as he gasps about how you were made for him. he has your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands grasping your hips, pulling you up as he fucks into you, hard and fast and deep. he’s reaching within you where you could never imagine, his cock long, hitting every spot that sends your sensitivity skyrocketing, weakening your resolve, forcing you to lose more and more of your inhibitions by the second. he’s already pulled out three orgasms from just his fingers, worn you out so much, that it’s unsurprising the third advances just as quick. you cry out and warn him, “gonna make a mess!” but he only spurs you on, lifting your hips higher, angling it to hit at that spot within you just as he rubs at your clit and you’re gone, squirting and making a mess of him, drenching your thighs and his abdomen. he doesn’t stop until he’s filled you up, until he can see your messy cunt soaked in both your cum and his. 
the second is eager, eager enough to carelessly fall to his knees between your legs as soon as the first steps away, grabbing your thighs and positioning your legs atop his shoulders, before he buries his face in your cunt. he laps and sucks at your folds, cleaning you up of any residue of the man before, and you want to cry at how humiliating and filthy it seems, it is, but he’s just so enthusiastic, so sweet, lips sucking at anything your cunt has to offer him until he makes you cum again, and you feel a chill run up your spine at how this is only the second boy. he’s just so generous with everything, kissing at your thighs, at your belly, up to your chest, peppering your face with kisses as he lines himself up against your hole. he’s calling you the sweetest of names, yet somehow they feel a little filthy falling from his lips, as he pushes the fat head of his cock inside of you, watches with a grin as your eyes widen at the feel of him stretching you. he tells you how good you are for him, how perfect, so perfect, wish i could have you forever, as he fucks into you so fast, like you’ll somehow disappear if he were to slow down for even a second. he’s insatiable, wanting more, more, more, that he pulls out, pushing you onto your stomach, holding you flat against the bed as he sinks into you again, simply using you, his hand so warm and gently strong all over your body. he cums before you do, spilling inside of you, but he’s quick to push your hips up, making you stick your ass out as he fucks his fingers into you, his cum and your arousal easing him in and making everything so much messier as he scissors his fingers and twists rapidly at his wrist, his thumb on your clit. when you cum, all you think is where the fuck did he learn to be this filthy? 
the third has so much to give. his cock meets your mouth before it’s at your cunt. he’s lifting you up before you can think, lowering you so that you straddle his face, facing his legs. he doesn’t tell you to suck his dick, but with the way he’s humping the air, his cock twitching in his tight boxers, you read him all too easily, and fall forward. he quickly lifts his hips to help you in stripping him, and god, he’s so fucking big. his cock is so large, so thick and veiny and long that you can’t even imagine how it’d ever fit, despite having been fucked by two other cocks. three of his fingers sink into you as his tongue laps at your folds, and you finally find the courage to wrap your lips around the dark, drooling tip, swallowing as much as you can of him. your jaw aches and your lips hurt at stretch, but you can’t deny just how good the feel of his heavy cock against your tongue is. the way he’s praising you sounds as if he’s delirious, just panting and whining and calling you the cutest petnames, and minutes later he’s spilling down your throat, cumming so much that it makes you gag and cough and spew out cum onto his lap. it doesn’t bother him though— fuck is still hard?— and he doesn’t hesitate in lifting you up, sitting up against the headboard and seating you on his lap. he doesn’t waste any time, grabbing your legs and hooking your knees on his arms, spreading you open and putting you on display. he begs silently, begs as if he was the one under your control and not the other way around, “put it in, put it in, please,” and once you do, he doesn’t hold back at all, making you easily cum on his cock, and makes everyone watch as he spills inside of you, the cum oozing and dribbling out of your stretched out cunt. 
the fourth gives you a second to breathe, his big, rough hands massaging at your sore muscles as you lay on your stomach. he eases at the tension in your shoulders, arms, back, down to your legs and ass. but despite how kind his hands may seem, his mouth is anything but. he calls you dirty, dirty, dirty, asks you if you enjoy being used like this, if they should treat you like this more often. his words have you burying and hiding your face deeper against the bed, shying away from him. he coos at this, teasingly saying, “aw, baby, don’t get all shy on my turn,” before he spreads your ass, dipping his fingers between your folds before sinking them into you. he’s doing it slow, leisurely, like he’s not really trying to get anything out of this, and you soon find out that yes, it’s exactly that, because his fingers fall from your cunt, and trail up to your ass. at the feel of his fingers against your tight hole, you tense and mewl, but he only shushes you, telling you to be good for him, that he’ll treat you real good, don’t worry darling. he takes his time stretching you for him, but it’s as clear as ever that he’s impatient. still, he makes sure you’re prepped well enough, and you understand why the moment his cock slaps up against his stomach when he pulls at his boxers. god, how were they all so big? he makes sure you’re on all fours when he brings his dock to your ass, when he finally sinks inside of you and you realize oh, oh, he’s so good. he fills you up perfectly, so perfectly, has your arms weakening. but it’s okay that you’re unable to hold yourself up, because he’s quick to pull you up to him, hand around your throat, the other between your legs, rubbing furiously at your clit, urgent to make you cum, to make you cum hard. and when he cums, he makes sure to pull out, and to cum in your pussy instead, because, “a cunt this pretty needs it, doesn’t it?” 
the fifth has a unmissable mischievous glint in his eyes, even with the kind smile he wears. he coos and awes at you, marveling at how good you’ve been to all of them, how he’s so happy to have you last, because he’s definitely going to make you feel so much better than all these boys. his hands are experienced, much more, as they press flat against your body, kneading at your thighs, at your breasts, cupping your face lovingly, and he does nothing, nothing, doesn’t touch you the way all these boys have, and you’re already mewling and begging for him, your thighs squeezing and rubbing, desperate for friction in any way. when his hand falls from your face to your throat, it rests there, simply, not a tightening grip at all, but you find yourself lifting up, leaning into him, wanting more. it’s dizzying, the way he’s borderline manipulating you. but god, do you love the way he’s hovering his fingers along your skin, forcing goosebumps all along, or the way he’s kissing you as he lets you grind your bare cunt against his thigh, making you look even more desperate, despite the very obvious tent and damp spot in his boxers. but finally, finally, he stops making you wait, pulling his cock out of its restraints and leaning close to you, lips kissing at your jaw and your neck as he slowly sinks into you. he fucks you missionary, simple as ever, but somehow, it feels the most intense out of all five. he’s everywhere around you and on you and in you, reaching deep within you, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you with his diligent strokes and dexterous fingers on your clit. when he’s close, he pulls out, grabbing at his cock and stroking it harshly, hard and fast and quick, before he spills, aiming it along your body, staining you with his cum. somehow, this way of marking is much filthier than the fact that you had four other boys cum inside of you. 
alright, so who’s who? :) 
characters: meian, bokuto, atsumu, hinata and sakusa (not in order)
3K notes · View notes
kkodzvken · 3 years
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suit up - hawks x f. reader
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the one where keigo marries the girl of his dreams, and then takes her home and shows her just how loved she is. title cred/inspo: suit up by jonghyun
notes/warnings: smut and fluff (your teeth may rot and fall out, you’ve been warned), soft dom!keigo, praise kink, slight size kink, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex + creampie. reader and kei use the traffic light safe word system and they review it beforehand, and he checks in with her at one point but she’s green, so everything is 100% consensual. they flirt + kei says explicit things at the reception but nothing /actually/ happens in public. mentions of alcohol
wc: 5.3k
a/n: this idea’s been bouncing around my head for a while bc i wanna marry this dumbass so bad :’) my first full hawks fic!! im so happy hehe
Beautiful.  
You’re so beautiful.
Keigo’s always known, of course. He’s found you beautiful since the very first moment that he laid his eyes on you, all those years ago. He tells you that you’re beautiful every single day, no matter how much you roll your eyes or jokingly tell him to shut up.
You’re beautiful all the time, but there are certain moments that leave him especially breathless. The day that you foolishly challenged Rumi to an arm-wrestling match. The determined look in your eye as you clenched your fist, sweat dripping down your brow and arm muscles straining (you lost, of course – the rabbit hero was ridiculously jacked). The brilliant smile that graces your face whenever he brings you flowers or little souvenirs from his work trips. The very first morning after you moved into his penthouse, when he woke up next to your peaceful sleeping form, and realized that he’d have mornings like this for the rest of his life.
The day that he flew you up to the mountains for a starlit picnic. The smile on your face as you polished off your meal, and the way that your hand flew up to your mouth when he got down on one knee. Your teary-eyed look of pure love as he slipped the ring onto your finger, the diamond gleaming like one of the stars that shone down on you. The way that your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist when he took you home and fucked you for hours.
And right now. Keigo swore that his heart damn near burst at the sight of you. The organist was playing, but he couldn’t hear the notes, couldn’t hear anything besides the blood rushing in his ears. Your hands clasped an elegant flower bouquet, and Keigo was sure that the blossoms were pretty, but he couldn’t spare even a second to glance at them. No, his entire focus was trained on you. You, with your beautiful dress that perfectly accentuated the body that he loved so much. When your eyes raised to meet his, and that perfect smile worked its way across your face… he had to bite his inner cheek to try and hold the tears back.
In a simultaneous eternity and heartbeat, you were handing off your bouquet to a bridesmaid and clasping Keigo’s large hands with your much smaller ones. The officiant was speaking, but Keigo didn’t process any of it. The sight of your eyes shining up at him, more beautiful than any of the stars in the night sky, was the only thing anchoring him to the world. He felt like he was floating through a dreamscape with only you, the happiness in his chest powerful and all-encompassing.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You’re talking to a group of your old friends from high school when a tap against your shoulder grabs your attention, and you turn to see your fiancé – no, your husband – smirking down at you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Excuse me, ladies,” he says to your friends. “Mind if I steal her for a moment?” His amber eyes glint mischievously, and you swear that a whole swarm of butterflies take flight in your stomach.
Your friends giggle and nod, and then Keigo’s spinning you around so that you’re face-to-face. He’s stunning, in his black suit and red dress shirt, the shade of crimson matching his wings perfectly. “Dance with me, dove,” he says, before leaning down to press a quick kiss against your lips. You nod, and he leads you towards the center of the venue, where most of your guests are dancing to some cheesy pop song. Keigo nods at the DJ, who nods back and switches to the music. Soft synth notes travel through the speakers, before the singer’s dreamy voice floods your ears.
Your hands find their way to his broad shoulders. His wings move to wrap around you protectively. You’re not sure if he even realizes that he does it – it’s such a normal thing, now, for him to shield you, to create a little cocoon for the two of you. You frown as you feel his muscles moving underneath your fingers. “You’re too tense,” you say, fingers gently kneading at the parts of his back that you can reach. “Let me give you a massage once we get home.”
He chuckles, one of his own hands coming up to capture yours. He laces your fingers together before bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin. The look he gives you is so tender, the love radiating off his body so palpable, that it makes your knees feel week. “Sweet, but I’m the one who’s going to be taking care of you tonight.” You open your mouth to protest, but he tuts, and a feather flies up to shush at your lips. “No, listen. You’re driving me crazy. Every time I turn my head, I see you looking so damn beautiful that my heart stops. Makes me wanna just pull you away and rip that pretty dress off.”
You gasp at his words, a pretty blush dusting your cheeks. “Kei! People are gonna hear you!”
He shrugs, pulling you even closer and swaying your bodies lightly to the music. “Let them,” he says nonchalantly, but the glint in his eye is pure sin. He leans down so that his lips brush against the shell of your ear. You can’t help the shudder that wracks through your body as his warm breath hits your skin. “You’re so cute when you’re blushing like that. Did I make you flustered, baby?” His fingers release yours, instead gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Answer me, love.”
You nod, feeling small. Only Keigo can affect you like this, can reduce you to a trembling mess with just a few words.
You love it.
He smirks at your confession, pressing a kiss against your cheek before leaning his forehead against yours. “What do you say we jump ship, babe?” Your confusion must show on your face, because he continues. “I think I might die if I have to wait much longer to get my hands on you. And judging by the way you’re acting… I’d bet good money that you’re already dripping for me.”
“Kei!” You swat at his chest before burying your face in it. He laughs, one of his real, genuine laughs that makes your heart soar, before kissing the crown of your head.
“I don’t see you denying it.”
“Shut up.”
“Aw, is my cute little wife flustered?”
Wife. The word sounds so pretty rolling off his lips that you can’t resist retreating from the safety of his chest to press your lips against his. He cups your face with one of his large, rough hands and kisses you back. His wings shift to cover you up before the hand on your waist moves down to pinch at your ass – or, at least, it tries. The layers of your dress obstruct him, and he growls in frustration.
You can’t help but whine as well. You want him all the time, of course. Years of being together haven’t changed how fucking badly you want him all the time. You’d used up all your willpower behaving for the ceremony and the reception so far. You’d been good, had kept your hands to yourself throughout dinner and the toasts. But now, the mix of his body against yours, the dirty words that he’d whispered into your ear, and the cocktails running through your bloodstream were making it very hard for you to ignore the pooling heat between your legs.
You wanted him. You wanted your husband.
“Please,” you whisper. Under normal circumstances, you’d hate how whiny and pathetic you sound, but you’re too far gone to care. “Please, let’s go, Kei. Need you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
A few whispered words to Rumi, and a knowing smirk from her, and you were gone. It was surprisingly easy to slip out the venue. You’d expected to be stopped by some nosy family member, but it seemed that everyone was too tipsy and having too much fun to care. Nevertheless, you had to be careful once you stepped out into the fresh night air. The number two hero’s wedding was perfect paparazzi bait. You didn’t even want to think about the feeding frenzy that the media would go into if they caught sight of you now.
The night sky was like a shield, though, and it protected you from prying eyes. You’d been discreet when picking the wedding and reception venues, and even more discreet in choosing your honeymoon destination. Tomorrow morning, you and Keigo would fly up to the mountains, where he’d rented a little cabin for the two of you. By some miracle, he’d managed to get a whole week off work – a whole week where you’d have him, entirely to yourself.
But right now, you aren’t thinking about tomorrow morning, or the lovely, peaceful honeymoon that you were about to embark on. Right now, the only thing you can think about is Keigo. Keigo, with his beautifully messy hair that moved like ocean waves as you soared through the air. There’s nothing in this world that you love more than flying with him, pressed against his sturdy body with his strong arms wrapped around you. Light pollution makes it hard to see the sky from the ground, but up here, the moon and stars are breathtaking.
Almost as breathtaking as your husband, who’s eyes are prettier than any stars could ever hope to be.
He looks down and catches you staring, taking him in with your wide, wondrous eyes. You can barely hear anything through the noise-cancelling headphones that he makes you wear whenever you fly, but his words reach you, clear as day – “I love you.”
“And I love you.” Your voice comes out small, stolen away by the rushing wind. You try again, louder this time. “I love you!”
He chuckles, chest shaking as he tries to keep his laughs contained. “You trying to one-up me? I can be loud too.” He takes a deep breath, before tipping his head back and shouting an I love you up into the heavens.
His lips are soft and sweet as candy when they dip down to meet yours. “I’m just so happy,” he whispers against you. “You make me so happy.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The moment that you set foot into the penthouse, you gasp.
“Oh, Kei,” you breathe, hand flying over your mouth.
He bounces nervously as he locks up the balcony door, not meeting your eye. “Do…do you not like it?”
You march up to him and grab his face in your hands, before standing up onto your tip-toes and planting a kiss on his forehead. “I love it, baby. Really, you’ve outdone yourself.”
He perks up at the praise, kissing your lips once before his hands move down and he picks you up, clean off the ground. You can’t hold your shrieking laugh back as he spins you around, a smile lighting up his face like a god damn Christmas tree.
The house is beautiful. Really, he did outdo himself. Back when you’d first started dating, he’d had to call off your six-month-anniversary date because of a mission. You’d assured him that it was fine, that you understood, but you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t upset. He promised that he would be back in a week at the latest. You’d spent the night with your friends, eating ice cream and watching shitty movies, and left for work the next morning. You weren’t expecting him back for a few days at least, but when you opened your door after an exhausting day at work, he was there, waiting for you. Scratches on his face and bandages on his arms, but he was there. And he’d decorated your apartment with flowers and fairy lights, centered around a haphazardly made blanket fort in the center of the living room. Little candles were placed across the room, each with a red feather standing guard, making sure that the flames didn’t accidentally get knocked over and grow. After you’d gotten over your initial shock – how the hell did you get in here, Kei – you ran into his arms and squeezed him, tight. He didn’t let go of you for the entire night – his body always pressed against yours, fingers constantly entwined, even as he made you cum so many times that you forgot your own name.
It was one of your fondest memories, one that always brought a smile to your face. You’d mentioned it offhandedly last week, while you were in the weeds with wedding planning. Honestly, you didn’t think that he’d even heard what you said, with how stressed and busy the two of you were. He was picking up extra patrols to make up for his honeymoon vacation time, and you were working your ass off to get your overbearing boss off your back.
But he had heard. He heard, and he listened, because that’s just the kind of lover – the kind of husband – that Keigo is. Attentive, sweet, and intuitive. You swear, he spoils you beyond belief. You don’t even know when he got the time to decorate the apartment today, but it’s beautiful. Even more beautiful than the decorations from your six-month-anniversary, because this time, the sight is sweetened by the knowledge that this is your shared home. This isn’t just your apartment, that your friends helped sneak him into so he could fancy it up. This is your shared space, where you’ll spend the rest of your lives together. Where you’ll wake up in his arms every morning, his wings wrapped around you protectively, fragmenting the morning light into shards of red. Where you’ll make meals together and laugh at his bad cooking, where you’ll take sanctuary from the harshness of the world. This place is your home. Keigo is your home.
He finally stops spinning, but refuses to set you down. Instead, he readjusts you so that he’s carrying you bridal style. You almost laugh at how cliché it is. It feels like something out of a cheesy rom-com, but you’re so happy that you feel like you’re in one of those rom-coms.
You do laugh out loud when you see the trail of petals leading to your bedroom. Keigo feigns disappointment, dramatically sighing. “Don’t laugh, princess, you wound me.” That just makes you laugh even more, and soon, he’s joining in, burying his face in your hair as he walks the two of you towards the bed. “C’mon, I’m trying to be romantic! Quit making me laugh!”
“I can’t help it,” you giggle as he gently places you onto the bed. Thankfully, he had the common sense to not put any petals on the actual bed, but the floor is absolutely covered. Blossoms line the walls as well, along with candles that bathe the room in their gentle glow. You take a second to admire how beautiful your husband looks in the soft light. The shadows make his wings seem that much bigger as they unfurl to their full size. He looms over you, looking like the most delicious mix of devil and angel that you’ve ever seen. There’s still a playful smile on his face, but something mischievous simmers beneath it.
“Hope you didn’t forget what you said at the reception hall, baby,” he says, eyes glinting. “What was it? Hmm, something like, need you, Kei, need you to take me home and fuck me, I’m already so wet for you.”
You groan and try to bury your face in your hands, but he’s too fast. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, easily wrapping them with just one of his large hands. “You’re making shit up,” you pout. “I only said the first part.”
“So you admit you said it? That you need me?”
“Shut up.”
“Mm, no thanks.”
You groan again, trying to suppress your smile. There are plenty of times that you and Keigo have had “serious” sex, but you mostly find yourself like this, devolving into giggles and teasing. There’s something about him that makes you feel so safe and at ease, and you can’t help yourself from giggling at his stupid remarks. He laughs, and releases your wrists to cradle your face with both his hands. He shifts so that he’s properly on top of you, his thighs on either side of your hips, and bends down to press kisses all over your face.
“My wife,” he breathes, in between kisses. “My sweet, beautiful, amazing wife. This dress is so pretty, but let’s take it off, my love. You don’t need it anymore.”
It takes a few minutes of awkward wriggling and tugging to finally remove the lace monstrosity, but at long last, the dress ends up on the floor. Keigo’s hands are on your body in an instant, fingers trailing over the curve of your waist and snapping the waistband of your panties. “God, you’ve got such pretty little lingerie on.”
“Wanted to dress up for you,” you say, pawing at his tie and trying to loosen the knot. It makes you feel small, to be so exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Normally you love to savor in that feeling, but right now, you need to feel his bare skin against yours. “Now take your clothes off, please.”
You finally manage to loosen his tie enough to pull it over his head. After stopping for another deep kiss, your hands continue their path over his body. His suit jacket comes off next, although he has to help you gently maneuver it off his wings. His cuff links clatter to the ground as you almost viciously rip off his dress shirt, and you moan when you finally feel his warm muscles.
You’re practically grinding into each other by now. Little whines leave your lips as you shamelessly roll your hips, seeking any friction you can get. You can feel his hardness, even through his thick pants, and you chase it with vigor. He’s not much better, a light blush dusting his face as he meets your rolls with shallow thrusts of his own. “Off, off, Kei, need to feel you,” you babble, fingers desperately trying to undo this belt buckle. Breathlessly, he pushes your fingers aside and pulls his belt off, unceremoniously throwing it across the room. You half expect it to collide with a candle and set the entire building on fire, but a few feathers fly out to catch it and gently set it down.
You don’t waste a second in pulling his pants down and throwing them as well, trusting that a feather will keep it from crashing into anything. Your fingers try to pull down the waistband of his boxers, but he tuts and grabs your hand.
You look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please,” you whine.
The smile on his face is gentle beyond belief as he answers. “I told you that I was going to take care of you tonight, baby. Let me make you feel good, okay? Can I make you feel good?”
You want to protest, want to beg him to stuff your face or your cunt and fuck into you until you’re lightheaded, but Keigo’s insistent about making you cum at least twice before even thinking about his own pleasure. And you can’t deny that you’re aching for him. You’re certain that you’ve soaked through your flimsy panties by now, and your mind is hazy with want.
You nod. Keigo takes your face in his hand, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Can you give me your colors too?”
You force your mind to push through the fog, force your heavy lips to move and form words. “G-green for good, yellow for slow down, red for stop.”
“Good girl.” The praise goes straight to your core, and you whine. “Oh, baby, I know I just vowed to give you everything you could ever want, but you’re so damn needy. Be patient for me, okay? Let me touch you.”
You nod obediently, but you can’t fight the urge roll your hips and feel him again. With a soft, scolding noise, he presses one of his hands into your hipbone, effectively pinning you to the mattress. Try as you might, you can’t squirm away. He’s so ridiculously strong, his muscles toned from years of training and hero work, that you’re no match for him. But it’s not so bad. You love the dominance that oozes off his body as he moves down, his hands and tongue exploring every inch of skin that they can find. His teeth nip at the sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that always makes you melt for him. You shamelessly sigh and tilt your head to give him more access.
His right hand, the one that isn’t currently pinning you to the mattress, plays with the lacy edges of your bra. He palms you through the thin fabric, making you groan and arch your back into his touch. It’s not enough, you need more, need to feel more of him before you lose your mind. He seems to read your mind, because he doesn’t even bother to unclasp the bra, electing instead to rip it clean off your body. The snap of the straps breaking makes you gasp, but you revel in the sting of the elastic bouncing back against your skin.
“Couldn’t wait,” he says, not a hint of shame on his face. “You know how much I love to tease, but fuck, I need you now.”
He’s a bit more ceremonious when he removes your panties, choosing to use a hardened feather to slice through the fabric instead of just ripping with brute force. He fucking moans at the sight of you, wet and needy for him. It sounds like absolute heaven, but you don’t have even a second to revel in it before he’s diving into you. The sudden rush of pleasure is electrifying, and you go to instinctively slam your legs shut, but Keigo’s hand is too fast again. His tongue doesn’t falter for even a second as his fingers dig into your thighs and push you open. His lips wrap around your clit and suck, and he’s outrageously loud as he moans into your sex. It’s all so much – he’s licking at you like a man on death row, coaxing little whines and gasps from your lips.
His beautiful eyes are trained on yours, pupils blow out with love and lust. He memorizes every little expression that flits across your beautiful face as he eases a finger into you, eyes only leaving your face to admire the way that your little cunt sucks him in. But he can’t tear his gaze away from you, and the way your mouth falls open, or the way that your eyes flutter and roll back. The way that your hands ball up into fists, alternating between grabbing the bedsheets and lacing through his hair. Fuck, he loves how you pull at his hair when his fingers curl up against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Loves the little curses and gasps of his name that spill past your lips as he scissors and thrusts his digits deeper and deeper into your perfect pussy.
“Cum for me, princess,” he groans. “Please, cum for me, need you to be a good girl and cum for me.”
And, well, you did just vow to give him everything that he could ever want.
You throw your head back and almost sob as you gush all over his face and fingers. He’s insatiable, licking and fingering you all through it, desperately trying to lap up every single drop of your juices. Your body is shaking, and you whimper, the overstimulation building until it’s too much, until you’re crying out too much, Kei, ‘s too much!
“Give me your color, baby,” he says, slowing his assault against your body.
“G-green,” you stutter out, the words as shaky as your legs. “Green, don’t stop, it’s just – ah! Kei!”
Your verbal confirmation was all he needed to dive back in, sucking at you with even more vigor than before. His fingers twist and curl against your spot, and his tongue lashes at your clit. He doesn’t stop for even a second, burying himself in your heat. It’s all you can do to maintain your grip on his hair, tugging at it just the way that he loves. You’re thrust headfirst into your second orgasm of the night, crying out his name and positively sobbing at the onslaught of sensations.
When he finally pulls away, the lower part of his face is soaked with your cum. He makes a show of licking his lips clean, not breaking eye contact with you, no matter how much you blush and squirm. He saves his fingers for you, though. A gentle tap at your lips is all it takes for you to obediently open your mouth and take in his digits. You swirl your tongue around, eyes lidded with the afterglow of your pleasure.
But you’re not finished, are nowhere near finished. You suppose that you are being needy, but how could you not, when your husband looks like an absolute fucking god? The candlelight makes your cum on his face glisten beautifully. You whine and pull him in for a kiss, mashing your lips against his and greedily swiping your tongues together. It’s sinful. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you shudder, makes you need him that much more.
“Please, please fuck me,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his slim waist and trying to pull him closer, closer, closer. “Please, Kei, need you inside me, need my husband inside me.”
“Fuck,” he breathes, so quietly that you would’ve missed it if you didn’t feel the word formed against your lips. “Fuck, baby, okay.” His hand slides between your bodies and quickly pushes his boxers down. He uses a feather to pull them all the way off, because he can’t be bothered to focus on that, not when you’re practically drooling at the sight of his cock.
Your fingers twitch, and you aren’t able to hold back any longer. Your hand finds his cock, marveling at how heavy and perfect he feels as you wrap your fingers around him and guide him towards your sopping cunt. You pause before you slide him in, though, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can I ride you? Please?”
He curses again under his breath, practically shivering at your words. His strong hands reposition the both of you, until you’re sitting on his thigh and he’s leaning back against the headboard. He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, then? Get to work, princess.”
You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh at his antics. “What happened to Mr. Let-Me-Take-Care-Of-You?”
“He’ll come out later. If my pretty wife wants to ride me, she gets to ride me.”
You laugh for real this time, but it quickly turns into a moan as you sink yourself down on his length. No matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms your senses, always stretches you so deliciously. You lean your forehead against his and give yourself a second to adjust, and then you’re rolling your hips, little whines leaving your lips.
“Feels so good, Kei.” You throw your head back, your fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back to anchor yourself. “You always feel so good.”
His eyes are half-lidded and dark as he takes you in. He’s memorizing every inch of your body, every detail and movement that he absolutely fucking adores. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world,” he whispers, seemingly more to himself than you. “So beautiful. I’m so lucky.”
Your thighs burn, but you force yourself to ignore the pain. You’d rather die than stop right now. His strong arms encircle your waist, and his wings surround your bodies, ruffling with every one of your movements.
You want to ignore your exhaustion, but your husband is perceptive as ever. His hips raise up to meet you, and it sends a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. You’re shaky, though, and you’re getting sloppy.
Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being spun over and pinned to the mattress. A gasp leaves your lips, and you whine as his cock slips out of you. Your hand reaches out and paws around wildly, searching for him through your haze. Keigo’s quick to kiss you and shush your protests, entwining his rough fingers in your searching hand and stroking his thumb against your palm.
“Relax, angel. Let me take care of it.”
He slides into you again, making you both moan. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, clenching and fluttering around him. He pauses once he bottoms out. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and he presses sweet kisses all over your skin.
You wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze, trying desperately to make him move. “Keigo, baby, please,” you whine, fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back.
He coos, cupping your face and kissing you before he readjusts himself. “Of course, pretty girl.”
His thrusts are deep and hard, so hard that they make the entire bed shake. Your eyes flutter shut, but he grips your jaw and begs you to keep them open – please, baby, look at me, need to see my pretty wife fall apart.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he moans, teeth nipping at your lips. “So perfect, and all mine.”
“All yours,” you agree. You’re practically babbling by this point, unable to stop the noises slipping past your lips. You’re floating on a cloud, soaring through the sky, anchored only by his body against yours. “You’re so deep in me, Kei, can feel you so deep in me. Please, ‘m so close, just a lil’ bit more, Kei.”
He coos again, hand slipping down to toy with your clit. You wail, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the coil in your stomach snaps and you gush uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but cry out for him, can’t do anything but cling onto him and shake and twitch. The feeling of you clenching around him is too much, and with a broken fuck and a cry of your name, he spills inside of you. He fucks you through it, the obscene sounds of your combined release making you feel lightheaded and weak.
He holds you for a few minutes, just like that, bodies entwined. You both pant and try to catch your breath. The weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, so you protest when he finally pulls out and sits back to admire the way that his seed drips out of you.
“Come back,” you complain. “What kind of husband doesn’t give cuddles to his wife?”
“The kind of husband who needs to clean her up,” he says with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go take a bath.
Your body feels boneless with exhaustion and the hazy afterglow of your three orgasms, so you’re grateful when he scoops you into his arms. You tuck your face into his neck and hum contentedly, unable to stop the giddy smile that blooms across your face.
“I love you, Kei,” you say, planting little kisses over his neck and jaw.
“I love you too, princess,” he says, grinning and poking your nose. He laughs when you scrunch it up and scowl at him. But, with how cute he looks, you just can’t hold the scowl for long. Soon, you’re giggling too.
You look up at him with so much love that it makes his heart ache. His eyes grow a bit more serious, and he dips his head to kiss at your swollen lips. “I mean it, baby. I’m so happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”
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bubblywriter0 · 3 years
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I’m your biggest fan! Bakugou x reader x Todoroki
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Word count: 2.6k of filth 
Warnings: non-con, smut, degradation, double-penetration 
tagging: @twynity @tommy-braccoli​
You were his secretary. Katsuki Bakugou, the hot-headed, incredibly stubborn, and undeniably handsome Ground Zero. Being the number three Hero's secretary had its perks, as well as its (rather exasperating) responsibilities. Which consisted of late nights, piles of paperwork, and plenty of arguments with the short-tempered Hero. 
But you loved it. 
You couldn't deny that it had you completely stressed most of the time, or that you were up till ungodly hours of the night more than once a week cleaning up his messes. But there was something charming about the snooty blonde, however hard it was to admit, and you could proudly say no one could match his outrageous temper the way you could. 
Your manager could confirm this first hand, as she had been caught in the midst of one-two many yelling matches between the two of you and always silently thanked you afterward for being able to keep him in his place.  
You held your own with the number three Hero, and though he would never admit it out loud, you were one of the very few people that could get him to see reason when his temper took over. You were a strong, independent woman. Which is why you never imagined yourself in this position, at least not in this way. 
Katsuki Bakugou was undeniably attractive. And an insatiable tease. He could (to your annoyance) read you easier than you anyone, and he had made your knees go weak too many times with his low-tone remarks or "accidental" intimate touches. But, you never gave in. 
You never took action on the desires that bubbled right underneath the surface. Not when you were fuming, inches away from each other from some dumb, long forgotten argument, the tension so thick anyone who walked in would slam against it. You even humored the thought of going out on a date. Just two colleagues going out for a drink after work, if not only to scratch the itch of something more. 
But the blunt hero never took the bait, couldn't seem to ask you out like a regular person. Instead, he had to drive you insane with teasing touches and suggestive remarks, that damn smirk and low voice carrying into your bedroom late at night when you were by yourself. Yet, being the responsible little secretary you were, you never gave in.
And then today, he finally seemed to snap. 
It started in the middle of your meeting. Some bastard was going on and on about some dumb policies and Bakugou couldn't be less interested. He internally groaned as he checked his watch just to find that he would have to sit through twenty more agonizing minutes of this. Tch. If this shithead pulls out one more Venn diagram I'm gonna fucking lose it. He fought the urge to prop his feet up on the desk, instead letting his gaze lazily wander to you. 
Aw. Look at you, such a good little secretary. His good little secretary, his brain added possessively. He chuckled quietly to himself, noting the way your pencil was tucked behind your ear, your brow scrunched in concentration as you scribbled down notes like a diligent student. He smirked as his eyes wandered down to see your pretty little skirt hiked up those cute thighs of yours. He licked his lips as he watched you bounce your foot gently, your thigh slightly jiggling from the movement. God, he just wanted to sink his teeth into you. 
You barely caught the movement in the corner of your vision, too busy watching the presentation to pay attention to Bakugou -besides, you were more than used to him getting antsy during these long meetings. So it was safe to say you didn’t take note of the large hand making its way towards you. 
You almost squealed when you felt the warm palm slide into your lap, your mouth dropping open in surprise. You practically burned up on the spot, immediately panicking and trying inconspicuously to pry it off. This only encouraged Bakugou, prompting him to squeeze the plump flesh, his thumb dragging slow, precise, and agonizing circles into your inner thigh as you squirmed, his teeth flashing as he grinned manically. He was going to enjoy this.
You couldn't focus on a word said after that, which was rather inconvenient considering you were supposed to be taking notes. The warm blush on your face hadn't left but your heart finally had slowed to a normal pace as the meeting came to an end. 
You stood quickly and smiled at the men and women leaving, unsettlingly aware of the metal chair scraping away from the table and the flooding warmth as Bakugou shuffled across the room to stand next to you. 
He grunted out less friendly goodbyes, echoing you lazily, and your eyes flew wide as you felt a hand sliding up the back of your thighs to your ass. You tried to swat his hand away but he caught your hand easily, pinning it against your back, clicking his tongue disapprovingly in your ear as he stepped up behind you. You let out a small whimper of protest and his grip on your wrist tightened painfully, pulling you with it so your back smacked against his chest, eliciting a surprised yelp from you. 
He didn't even seem to care that the last man who was about to shake your hand flushed almost as bright as you, and you squirmed helplessly as Bakugou glowered over your shoulder at the hand that was still held out. The dumbstruck man didn’t move, Bakugou’s patience wearing thin as he bared his teeth and let out a low growl, 
“Are you just gonna stand there shitty extra? You waiting for a damn show, wanna watch me fuck her real good or something?” Bakugou taunted cruelly, a hand wrapping around your neck as he leaned down to you. ‘Wadya’ say princess? You wouldn’t mind, would you? Bet your fuckin soaked right now, thinking about this shitty loser watching me bounce you on my cock, bet you’d like that, Hah” But all you could do was whine pathetically, trying to hide your red face, looking anywhere but at the flustered man. 
“Oh?” His crimson eyes narrowed at the man who was still standing there. “So you do want a show? That’s fine with me, but let’s make sure that princess here is okay with it,” he grinned again as you were suddenly thrown forward, bent over, the blood rushing to your head as you felt rough hands traveling up the back of your thighs curiously. “Let’s take a little peek and see if I’m right, hm?” 
But the poor man was already backing away, practically tripping over his feet and muttering apologies over his shoulder as he burst out of the conference room, his face bright with embarrassment and arousal judging from the obvious tent he was shielding in his pants as he made a bee-line for the bathroom. 
As the clear door swung shut you were suddenly picked up from the waist, and it took a moment for your spinning head to adjust before you started kicking your legs out in an attempt to escape. “Tsk, such a fucking brat,” Bakugou growled as he swatted at your ass, a painful sting following as you let out a yelp. 
“Stay fucking still slut.” You felt a tear drip down your cheek as you gave up your attempt to evade his grasp, your small body not standing a chance to the pounds of muscle you were up against. 
Bakugou flopped your body onto the glass table, pulling your ass towards him and flipping up your skirt onto your back so he had access to your plump behind. His heated fingers traced the exposed skin and you bit back a groan as he ran a finger down your slit. Your body automatically shivered when he yanked your panties down, hiding your head in your hands as you felt cool air tickle your dripping folds. He was right. You were sopping. 
“Aw, look at this,” you wined with embarrassment at his coos, his husky voice going straight to your exposed heat. “All wet and needy for me, huh baby?” You practically sobbed, your head nodding with shame. “Don’t worry pretty baby, I’ll take care of this mess” He pulled your legs apart and cooed again at the way your messy cunt dripped down all over the table, running a finger up your leg to collect some of your juices, popping the finger in his mouth and groaning at your taste. 
“I’ll make it all better, yeah?,” he hummed, chuckling at your incoherent mumbles and sobs. He leaned forward so his hot breath fanned against your ear, smirking as he growled in a low voice, “I asked you a fucking question slut.” You gulped at his harsh tone. “You know how to use your words, right bitch?” You nodded violently, terror making your voice tremble stupidly as you tried to answer in between hiccups, “m’s-sorry, I c-can-” He clicked his tongue, cutting you off. “I-I I’m s-sorry,” he mimicked you, sneering at the way you trembled. 
“Sluts who can’t follow simple orders don’t need to talk, do they?” You shook your head no shamefully, your cute little sobs and whimpers going straight to Katsuki’s already tight pants. “Good girl,” he cooed at your obedience, smirking as he undid his navy tie, pulling you towards him roughly. He reached around to your face and grabbed your jaw, his thumb prodding at your bottom lip. “Open,” he demanded, and you complied. 
He smirked with satisfaction at how good you were being, how easily you were letting him handle you. Such a good little slut for him, he repeated the thought again as he coaxed the handmade gag all the way into your open mouth, drool seeping down onto your chin. “There.” He grinned at the image of you looking all fucked out, cunt all messy and oh so needy, throat stuffed full, with mascara running down those pretty cheeks. “Isn’t that better baby?” He rasped as he kneaded your hips, grinding his clothed cock slowly against your dripping sex. You whined around your gag as you squirmed, fresh tears running down your stained cheeks as your body begged for more, begged to be filled by something, anything.     
Luckily for you Bakugou seemed to understand, fingers attacking your swollen clit as he humped against you lazily. “Need something pretty baby?” He laughed at your silence, but made quick work of unzipping his slacks as he pulled himself out of his pants, jerking himself once before spreading your cheeks. He groaned at the sight of his fat cock slipping between them as your needy cunt sucked him in, your body finally relaxing a bit as he slid inside you fully.
 He gave you no time to adjust, pulling out halfway just to slam back in, making you squeal around your gag. You rocked yourself back and forth on the table, chasing your much needed release as Bakugou used you, pulling your hips back to try and fit more of him inside you, your eyes rolling back at how good he felt. He almost didn’t notice how close you were, focusing on the way your weeping cunt kept sucking him in, squeezing around him whenever he growled filthy obscenities into your ear. 
But when you started babbling mindlessly around your gag, pushing back against him, he caught onto what you were doing, smirking at how quickly he’d reduced you to this. “Gonna come for me pretty baby? You gonna come around this fat cock?” You nodded, sobbing at how close you were.  “Go ahead, make a mess slut,” he growled against your ear, teeth grazing your skin as his warm tongue slipped out and prodded at it. You shivered uncontrollably as your body convulsed, giving into the intense pleasure as you focused on the heat between your slick thighs combined with the way Katsuki’s mouth was working down your neck, your orgasm racking through your body in euphoric waves, your cunt squeezing around Bakugou's dick as you came. 
You trembled as you slowly came down from your high, your sticky fluids sliding down your cheeks as Bakugou continued to pound into you. Everything felt so sensitive and suddenly the immense pleasure you were feeling mixed with something else and it was, “too m-much Katsuki, please s’too much,” but your cries were muffled and there was no way in hell he was letting you go now, grabbing your hips tighter as he thrust in and out of you, the lewd squelches from your dripping pussy making him feral. 
“Aw, you can take it princess,” he grunted with a sick grin as you tried to crawl away from him, squirming hopelessly on the glass table. “You’re not going anywhere, you’re gonna stay here and take it all like a good girl, you hear me?” He slapped your ass hard, emphasizing his point while his hips drove forward to meet your messy hole, groaning at the way your cheeks tinted pink from the impact, spanking you again to hear to feel you squeeze around him even tighter. “You like that slut?” He sneered, “Of course you do.” 
But you were too distracted by the flash of red and white that caught the corner of your vision. 
You raised your head slowly, only to be met with the inquisitive gaze of- You gasped. Shouto Todoroki. The Shouto Todoroki, the number Two Pro Hero you’d watched on TV for years, fawned over, and now... 
Bakugou could only assume your small gasp was from how good he was making you feel, and he smirked at this, driving his hips into you wilder with a new sense of inspiration and pride feeding to his unbelievably large ego. But how wrong he was. 
Your breath caught in your throat as curious blue and grey orbs traveled along your form, his gaze cutting through the glass and heating your whole body up till you were almost positive it was on fire. You felt so exposed, so humiliated, and so utterly turned on. 
His eyes slowly raised back to meet yours and you swallowed nervously. His pink tongue darted out to lick his lips and his mismatched orbs held yours with such intensity and curiosity, it was so..dominant. 
And it was making your legs feel weak. It made you feel all hot and bothered as he watched the Ground Zero fucking into you without hesitation, shamelessly watching every move. And it didn’t take long for Bakugou to notice. 
Bakugou was observant, and the sudden reactions your body was having to him was a pleasant surprise, but a little random, and it didn’t take long for him to realize your attention was focused outside the room, which annoyed him. “Oi, shit head whadya..” he trailed off as he caught sight of the red and white boy standing outside of the room, and he suddenly remembered he had a meeting with him scheduled for this afternoon, in this room. 
He had half the mind too cover you up and go tell the icy-hot bastard off but, what was this? You certainly seemed to be enjoying the way the dual-colored Hero was watching you get fucked. Did this.. Get you off? A shit eating grin spread across Bakugou’s face at the realization, the wheels already turning in his head. 
So his pretty little secretary wanted to act like a whore, huh? Then he’d treat her like one. 
You hear Bakugou chuckle darkly, yanking your hips back to gain more leverage, sneering at the heat rising to your face. Lips brush against your ear and a raspy voice whispers, "Oh look, it's your favorite little hero, Shoto Todoroki. Wave to him, princess"
Hope you enjoyed! Part 2 coming soon:) 
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anemo-writes · 3 years
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hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)
much love,
~ anemo-chan <3
(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)
super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.
Diluc
He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!
Lisa
She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,
Tartaglia
Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.
Zhongli
Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?
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surprises you with homemade sweets.
Fischl
Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.
Ganyu
Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.
Keqing
Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.
Mona
Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)
Noelle
One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!
Xiangling
The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?
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buys/makes a present for you.
Albedo
Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.
Amber
Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.
Barbara
Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.
Chongyun
He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.
Ningguang
She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)
Razor
He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.
Sucrose
At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)
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whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.
Beidou
It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)
Bennett
He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)
Kaeya
He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!
Venti
You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)
Xingqiu
While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—
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doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.
Jean
Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.
Xiao
“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)
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noteguk · 3 years
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danger zone | knj | m
— summary; in which namjoon lives a dangerous life and sometimes you can’t really stand it. Still, you can’t step away either. 
— contents and warnings; smut, a little spark of angst and a fuckload of fluff, criminal!namjoon x reader, established relationship, dom!namjoon and sub!reader, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), dirty talk, begging, Namjoon has a big dick, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of possessiveness, multiple orgasms, overstimulation 
— words; 4,5k 
— author’s note; this was supposed to be a quick pwp drabble but here we are… 
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Words could not explain the relief that washed over you when you saw the headlights peaking through the diaphanous living room curtains, blasting inside your house like beacons of divine hope. You ran to the front door faster than ever before, stepping into the cold mist of the night as he closed the car door behind him. You managed to see his friend, Hoseok, waving you goodbye before he pulled out of the driveway and you started balling your eyes out. 
And then you couldn’t really see anything else. 
Namjoon did not hesitate to walk toward you, wrapping his strong arms around your lower back and pulling you closer to his warm chest. He smelled of vanilla and cigarettes, and your knees almost buckled at the thought of losing that scent forever. 
“Baby, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. Namjoon positioned one hand on the nape of your neck, playing with your hair as you whimpered against his hot embrace, fists clenched over his pecs. You were wearing only pyjama shorts and a tank top, and the gelid breeze of the night showed you no mercy. “Why don’t we go inside?” 
For a moment you thought that your legs would fail you, but, to your relief, it was just a feeble impression. Namjoon held you tightly against him as you two walked back inside your house, mumbling how much he missed you, how much he couldn’t wait to see you again. All that you could do was to listen, with your nose stuffy and eyes tearing up, as he started telling you about his past few weeks.
You had been sure you had lost him that time. Namjoon had never stayed longer than a day without talking to you (or at least telling you that he would be a bit M.I.A. for the following weeks, because of the secretive nature of his work), and the fact that you had gotten nothing but silence for almost three weeks was enough to make your mind go wild. It wasn’t hard to imagine that the worst had finally happened. 
There was no one you could call — as in, you had a few numbers, but you were prohibited to get in contact with them. Namjoon had made it clear that he didn’t want you to get involved in his business, and something as simple as a phone call to the wrong person could be enough to get you wrapped up in an official investigation. He had made special efforts to make sure that, in case all went to shit, the feds could never prove that you knew anything about his illicit schemes. If something happened to him — prison, death, something in between — Namjoon would be at peace knowing that you were safe and taken care of. 
So, you had been good, and you didn’t call. You had just waited, fighting through your normal routine and forging fake smiles towards your coworkers. By the time that the second week rolled around, you were considering calling every morgue in the country — and then quickly melted down once you realized he was probably not even using his real name. There was nothing you could do but wait. For god knows how long. 
Times like those made you want to give up on everything. You and Namjoon had a chemistry that you never felt before, you understood each other in levels that you never thought possible. He loved you with all of his heart and you felt the same. And yet, you were exhausted from being so scared for him, from feeling so helpless in the face of his unstable and unpredictable job. 
You had told yourself that, if he came back, you would end it all. 
But now that he was standing in front of you, things weren’t so easy. 
Your boyfriend took you to the kitchen, where he warmed up a drink for you as he told you about how he had spent those last few weeks. Namjoon explained that one of his shipments had been stolen (of what, you didn’t dare to ask), and he had to take care of it himself. During that time, he and his crew were being attacked and watched constantly, and he would never risk the idea of pulling you into that mess. It was an unspoken truth that having you as a hostage would make all of his defenses crumble. Expressing any sort of weakness in his business was like bleeding in a sea full of sharks.  
You understood, because of course you would. And he understood when you told him about how terrified, how overwhelmingly worried you had been. 
“I wanted to call Yoongi, Hoseok… I don’t know, anyone,” you said, taking your cup of tea closer to your face. The heat emanated in waves, warming up your lips as the thin lines of smoke curled up in the air. You took a small slip, and the coldness of the night was just a memory then. “But I knew that I shouldn’t do that, so I just… Joon, I thought you were dead.” 
“I’m so sorry, love.” Namjoon pulled you in, wrapping one arm around your back and pressing a kiss against your forehead. You always felt so safe in his arms, like nothing could ever touch you. “I know how you feel, it’s unfair making you go through this.” 
“It is.” You sniffed, looking down at your tea cup. “But it’s all for you. And I love you, Joon.” 
There was a second of silence as the words floated in the space between the two of you, a deep sigh from your part as you placed the cup on the marble surface of the kitchen island. That house felt too big for you, too spacious and filled with expensive stuff, and it whispered doubts in your ear. You didn’t know where all that money came from, you often didn’t know what Namjoon was doing or what he was thinking about. You had no idea what kind of dangers he faced every single day, or the hoops he had to jump through to keep you safe. 
You could have given up on everything already. You knew that he would understand. But you didn’t. Time and time again, you would realize that all your momentaneous bravery towards a breakup was short-lived: you loved him more than you feared losing him. You wanted Namjoon and no one else. You knew that ending things and stepping into an ordinary life, with an ordinary guy and ordinary worries, would never cut it. You had learned to live in the danger zone that was your relationship with Namjoon, and you doubted you could ever truly step away from it. 
Namjoon knew that too. He looked down at you with a deep mixture of tenderness and devotion in his dark eyes, caressing your cheek as he dove in to place a kiss on your lips. “I love you too, baby,” he murmured. “I missed you so much.”  
You melted in his hold, surrounding his waist with your arms and pushing yourself against his chest. “Missed you too,” you said. “I know why you keep these things secret from me, but it fucking sucks.” 
Namjoon chuckled, his calloused hands caressing your hair. You realized that he probably was just as worried as you — not knowing if you were safe, if you hadn’t gotten yourself in a messy situation trying to find him. Needless to say, he was filled with pride knowing you did everything he had asked you to. “I’m gonna tell you a secret, but you can’t tell anyone.” The suspense in his voice was enough for you to pull away from his chest, looking up at him with expectant eyes. Namjoon cupped your checks with his hands and smiled. “You're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 
You could not fight the smirk that crawled up on your lips. That simple sentence was enough to shift the weight of the atmosphere around the two of you, allowing for your hurt to slip away. “Bullshit,” you said. 
“I’m serious.” He raised his eyebrows, lowering himself so he could place another pec on your lips. “Inside and out.”
That time, you could not hold back your laugh. “You’re so cheesy.” 
Your comment seemed to light up something inside his head, because, the next second, Namjoon was pulling away with a click of his tongue. “Speaking of cheesy, I almost forgot,” he started to say, turning around. “I got you something. It’s in the bedroom with the rest of my stuff.” 
You stood still for a second, trying to understand his words. “You... got me something? In the middle of all of that mess?” Then you were rushing behind him, going up the stairs as Namjoon simply hummed in agreement. “Joon, it’s okay, I—“ 
“Accept my gift, baby.” He stopped as he reached the second floor, waiting for you to catch up. “It’s not gonna make up for the time away, but I want to make you happy.” 
“What is it?” You asked, wet eyes blinking up at him, but he only smiled and turned around, gesturing for you to follow him into the bedroom. 
Namjoon’s present was a dress — or, rather, the dress. It was this beautiful long gown you had seen a few months back during one of your trips to the mall, a grandiose red thing that wrapped around the mannequin’s upper body before expanding just beneath its thighs. You remember feeling overwhelmed by its beauty, holding Namjoon’s hand tighter as you shared your amazement with him. Your fascination was short lived, though, because soon the price tag scared you away and you made yourself forget about that overpriced dream. 
Until that night, that was. Namjoon told you he had the gift ready to go before it all went down with the shipment situation, and the image of you wearing it was one of the few things that managed to keep him sane for so long. The glimmer of happiness in his eyes was enough for you to silence yourself before you could argue about the dress’ ostentatious price, instead choosing to thank him. 
You changed in the large bathroom of your master suite, eyes lost in the way the red shade, pure as sin, clung to your body like it was made for you. There was a wave of love gushing out of your heart, a joyfulness that only came from those little surprises that Namjoon would give you. You loved it. You loved him. 
“God,” Namjoon mumbled to himself when you stepped out of the bathroom, his figure sitting on the corner of your large bed. There was a moment of silence as his eyes ran all over your body, trying to memorize every little detail of you, his mind going blank and his mouth dropping in awe. “I might as well fall to my knees and ask for your hand in marriage now.”
You giggled, stepping closer to the bed. “Careful, I might say yes,” you told him, placing your arms around his shoulders. Namjoon looked up at you with so much devotion that you thought you could collapse at any given point. “I loved it. Thank you, Joon.”
He hummed, taking his large palms to rest on either side of your waist. You could feel his heat emanating through the fabric of the dress, sending waves of anticipation up and down your body. “I’m glad you did,” he spoke, his voice much lower than before. You knew Namjoon enough to know exactly what he was thinking, and there was nothing you wanted more than that. “My girl is so pretty…”
His lips were on your neck soon after, nipping and sucking your skin like they were made for that. Namjoon’s hands were trying to explore everywhere at the same time, moving from to your breasts to your waist, then back down your thighs and up your hips and toward your ass — where he placed a strong grip. 
“So fucking pretty… all mine,” he was speaking to himself at that point, his breath heavy around your collarbones. Namjoon tugged at the sides of the dress, completely ignoring the zipper as he tried to take it off of you. 
You laughed at his eagerness. “Careful with the dress, Joon.” 
“I’ll buy you another one.” He tugged at the fabric again, harder that time, and you were afraid that he was actually going to tear it in half if you didn’t act soon. “I’ll buy you any dress you want, don’t care if I ruin this one.” 
“I don’t want any other dresses, though.” Your hands left his shoulders and moved up your back, finding the zipper and swiftly pulling it down. Soon enough, the dress was just a pool of redness circling your feet. “I just want you.” 
Namjoon swallowed hard at the image of your bare body in full display for him — he should’ve known you wouldn’t wear any underwear with that piece of sin, and he couldn’t say that he was disappointed. All that it took you was one glimpse at his pants to see his hard cock already straining against the fabric, needy for you. 
“So beautiful,” he said, reaching out to place his hand on your hip. Namjoon’s eyes were everywhere at once, drinking you up. You knew he was holding back, he could flip you over and fuck you into the mattress at any second he wished to. “Is this all for me, baby?” 
“Yes,” you told him, taking his hand and guiding it to your breast. Namjoon squeezed the soft flesh, making you whimper at the feeling. “All yours, Joon.” 
“All mine,” he repeated, finally breaking out of his trance and meeting your stare. Namjoon was probably stressed out of his mind, and you just managed to turn all that negative energy into pure sexual stamina. Not that you were complaining. “Want you to lay down for me, baby.” 
You did not hesitate to do as he requested, moving around the large circular bed and placing your head against the soft pillows. There was a fire of expectation burning at the pit of your stomach and accumulating between your thighs, which only grew as you watched your boyfriend undress for you. 
Namjoon was quick and objective with his movements and soon enough he was naked, his golden skin shining under the warm lights and his big cock standing erect and flushed, ready for you. Just by looking at him you could feel your walls clenching, a sigh perishing on your lips at the memory of his member inside you, stretching you out like no one else could. Your boyfriend didn’t only have one of the biggest dicks you had ever seen, but he also knew how to use it — a dangerous combination that mostly explained why you couldn’t walk straight after a good night by his side. Again: not that you were complaining. 
The mattress dipped under his weight, your eyes following his movements as Namjoon placed himself between your legs. His eyes were hungry and focused, more than you had seen in a while, and when he commanded you to “Open your legs for me, love,” you couldn’t obey fast enough. 
Namjoon hummed in content as he leaned down between your thighs, one finger lazily dragging upwards between your soaked folds. He barely touched you, but you were so on the edge that the motion was enough to make you sigh. “Such a pretty cunt,” he said, and the finger moved back down, tenderly rubbing around your sensitive entrance. You flinched at the feeling, biting on your lip to suppress a moan. “So wet for me. Did you touch yourself while I was gone, baby?” 
There was no reason to lie, he would know regardless. “Yes, but only once.” 
It was true: after Namjoon had stopped contacting you, you were so scared that you didn’t even think about anything sexual — nor were you in the right mindset for that. 
He seemed to like your response, humming for a moment before he took a second digit to your entrance — never going in, though, only teasing its surroundings. “Was it good, baby?” 
You knew exactly what he wanted to hear, “Not as good as you,” you said, leaning on your elbows so you could hold his gaze better. Namjoon was looking at you like a starved man, and you knew it was just a matter of time before his own self-control ran thin. “Your cock is so much better.” 
He chuckled — a deep, melodious chuckle that sent heat straight to your core. “Needy girl,” he said, gaze flickering towards your face. “I can’t give it to you just like that. What’s the fun in doing something so fast? You have to earn my cock.” 
Patience was not a virtue you shared with your boyfriend, though, and that was why Namjoon loved to push you to the limits of your self-restraints. You had been foolish to think that things would be different just because he missed you. “How?” You asked, ready to do whatever he asked. 
Namjoon hummed, pretending to think for a moment. His fingers left your opening behind and he moved closer to your pussy, taking a long look at it before saying, “Cum on my tongue and I’ll think about giving it to you.” 
Before you could even think about what to respond, his mouth was on you and your head was spinning. Namjoon repeated the same motions of his fingers — licking a thick stripe up your folds and then back down, protruding the wet muscle against your entrance, swirling his tongue around it. You whimpered at the feeling, body crashing against the bed and fingers intertwining on his hair as he decided to move back up, lips wrapping around your clit as he gave you a gentle suck, humming when you started to moan out his name. 
“Right there, please,” you asked, your voice nothing but a pathetic plea. 
Namjoon, however, was marching to the beat of his own drum. He ignored your request and neglected your clit so his mouth could return to your opening, this time allowing his tongue inside you, drinking every drop of wetness you were giving him. A tremulous breath got caught in your throat when he pressed two of his fingers on your hole, coating it with his saliva before plunging in. 
You cried out, your back arching off the mattress as he continued with his ministrations; his fingers stretching you out as his mouth returned to play with your clit. Namjoon had you the way he liked it: a hot mess sprawled on the bed, seeking your high like it was the most important thing in the world. And he, of course, wouldn’t mind giving it to you as many times as you wanted it. 
The sounds you were making were lewd, mixing with the noises of his fingers pumping in and out of your clenching heat. Namjoon was only human: his cock was so hard that he was losing his mind, and the gorgeous sight of you fumbling under his touches was making him wish you could just cum so he could fuck the soul out of you. 
And because you two were in sync, that was exactly what you did. Namjoon watched in awe as you came around his digits, tightening around him so perfectly that he swore he was about to spill himself on his pristine white sheets. But he managed to keep it together as you continued to roll your pussy against his face, milking the last drops of your orgasm as your wetness dripped down his fingers. 
Namjoon moved away when you started to produce those high-pitched whimpers that signaled your sensitivity. He climbed up over you and crashed his lips on yours, humming as your tongues danced together, filling your mouth with your own taste. His cock was enlarged and heavy against your lower body, barely brushing on your sensitive clit. 
He pulled away so he could speak, his voice was a devilish low groan swimming in the hot air. “Want my cock inside you, baby?”
You were spent already, both of you knew that, and yet there was no hesitation in your tone when you promptly answered with a timid, “Yes, please.”
No matter how much you loved Namjoon’s mouth and fingers on you, there was nothing in the world that could compare to the feeling of having his cock thrusting inside you, filling you up so perfectly. You could fight against a bit of pain, you had done that a few times already, and you knew how fast your boyfriend was to turn everything back into pleasure. 
“Can you cum again for me?” He asked, lowering his hand so he could align himself with your pussy. You swallowed at the brushing of his head against your hole, heartbeat quickening in anticipation. “Can you do one more, baby?” 
You nodded, looking deep inside his eyes. “Yes, as many times as you want.” 
“I don’t deserve you,” Namjoon spoke gently, honest as ever. He leaned in and kissed you slowly, savoring the caresses of your lips as he sighed against the kiss. “You’re too good for me.” 
And then he was pushing himself inside you, spreading you open like he was meant to be there, filling you up to the brim. You heaved and held to his shoulders as Namjoon reached incredibly deep inside you, getting used to his size. No matter how many times he fucked you, every time still felt like the first. 
“Fuck, your pussy feels perfect, like it was made for me,” he cursed, slowly thrusting inside you. You whimpered at the delicious drag of his cock against your walls, already experiencing the switch of pain to pleasure. “Keep your legs up for me, baby.”
You could only nod, pushing your legs to the level of your chest. That small change was enough to give Namjoon just a bit more space to slip into, a grunt exploding on his throat. 
“Joon,” you called. Namjoon looked up at you, his eyes dazed and unfocused. “Fuck me, please.” 
That was all that he needed. Self-control long forgotten, Namjoon buried his face on the crook of your neck and went to town — fucking you so fast and hard that you swore you had never moaned so loud in your life. Suddenly, everything was becoming too much: the bouncing of your breasts, the pressure of his hands on your thighs, the drilling of his hard cock inside you. Every worry you had those past few weeks were washed away just like that, barely an echo at the bottom of your head. 
Namjoon was a mess above you, grunting and moaning out as his cock fucked you open, your walls clenching around him like you were his personal brand of heaven. “Fuck, you feel so tight,” he cried out, already recognizing that familiar pressure at the base of his spine. “Such a perfect pussy for me, baby.” 
“Feels so good, Joon,” you said back, tugging at his hair. “Look at me.” 
It seemed to take him an herculean amount of force, but Namjoon did as you requested, meeting that fucked-out gaze he adored so much. “What is it?” 
You smiled tenderly at him, a timid moan falling from your lips. “I love you.” 
Now Namjoon was absolutely sure that he was in paradise, floating in the clouds above. He could not hold back the smile that crossed his face. “I love you too, baby.” He kissed you. “Are you close?” 
You nodded. “Really close.” 
“Cum on my cock for me, then,” he urged you on, not stopping with his advances. He felt so good inside you; your mind was consumed by all of him: his smell, his warmth, the deepness of his voice and the lust in his gaze. At that moment, Namjoon was everything in the world for you. “Come on, I wanna feel it.” 
And you did as he requested, clenching around his cock not even two minutes later. You sobbed and whimpered at the feeling, calling out his name again and again until Namjoon found his own high, spilling himself inside you, milking his cock in your pussy until you were full of him. He thrusted a few more times, trying to make that moment last a bit longer, and he only stopped once he started to grow soft inside you. 
Namjoon turned around and crashed next to you on the mattress, his arm curling around your waist as you fumbled closer to him. With a happy sigh, you nestled against his chest, drowning in his warmth as his fingers caressed your skin. 
The instant of peace was glorious, and you had almost started to drift away into a tranquil sleep when his voice broke the silence. “I’m gonna have to travel again next week,” he said. 
Your heart started hammering against your chest, stomach curling in anxiety. You raised your head from his chest and stared at Namjoon, your lips opening and closing before you finally found your voice. “But… You just got home.”
“I know, that’s why you’re coming with me.” He smirked. You must’ve shown him the most confused expression, because Namjoon could not hold back his laugh. “It’s not business, baby, don’t worry. You and I are just going to have some well-deserved time together. How does that sound?” 
Relief washed over you for the second time that night, calming your anxiety instantly. “Amazing,” you admitted, resting yourself back against him. You could really use a vacation, you didn’t know the last time you had a proper one. And even better if it was with him. “Thank you, Joon.”
“I should be the one thanking you.” He breathed out. The caresses on your skin were calling the sleepiness back into your body, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you floated into the land of dreams. It has been a long time since you had a proper night of sleep — you had been too restless waiting for his return. “I know this is really hard for you. You know I’d understand if you wanted to leave.” 
You smiled lovingly, placing a kiss against his chest. “It’s worth it if it’s for you,” you mumbled. 
And you knew he felt the same. 
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Sweet Tooth [Spencer x gn! Reader]
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A/N: this is for my “Donuts” square on my CM Bingo Card for @cmbingo​ AKA The four times Spencer gave you donuts and one time he didn’t. 
CW: absolutely none, complete and utter fluff.
WC: 1.5K
Find my Masterlist here.
You would always remember the first time you saw him. The morning rush had you exhausted, sweaty and somewhat flustered. You swore every DC man and his mother got their coffee for their morning commute at your shop. 
Just as it was dying down he stepped up to the counter, large hazel eyes and a slightly awkward smile. 
“Black coffee please.” His voice was like honey to your ears. It took a few seconds for you to register his words. 
“Uh...yeah sure. Coming right up.” You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and turned towards the coffee maker. “Anything else?”
The man mused this for a moment. He had unruly curly hair and a jawline that could cut glass. 
“Do you have a donut recommendation?” 
You finished his coffee and slid it across the counter as you contemplated this.
“Well my favourite is strawberries and cream. But you have to have one hell of a sweet tooth for that.”
He smiled with a small nod. 
“I’ll take one of those.” 
You got a paper bag and cautiously placed the delicacy inside. 
You rang up his order and he paid. You slid his donut across the counter but he smiled playfully.
“It’s not for me.” He slid it back, his eyes sparkling at you. “Enjoy.” 
And with that he was gone. 
You stared dumbly at the spot he had just been standing. The moment had been so fleeting it was almost as though it had never happened.
But there was a strawberry and cream donut on the counter in front of you.
***
Three weeks passed and there was no sign of your mystery donut customer. Every time the little bell over the door chimed over those three weeks your heart skipped a beat and your eyes would dart to the door. But it was never him.
Over time you started to think you must have imagined him. You’d been exhausted that morning and maybe your mind had created the handsome stranger as a distraction.
Or if he had been real, he’d probably been a tourist which would explain why you hadn’t seen him again. And every day your hope dwindled a little more that you ever would see him again. 
You weren’t even sure why it mattered. It had been a fleeting moment, a small act of kindness but for some reason it had stuck with you. Maybe it was his intoxicating eyes or his warm smile. 
After you returned from your break that day and were getting your apron back on, something caught your eye. It was a paper bag behind the counter with your name on.
“What’s this?” You asked your colleague with a frown. 
She turned from where she was cleaning the coffee machine.
“Oh some guy came in and asked what the sweetest donut we did was. I told him it was probably the caramel sensation and he paid for it and told me to keep it for you.” She shrugged.
“What?” You picked up the bag. “Who? When?”
“Some guy.” She shrugged again. “Tall, messy hair. Said his name was Spencer I think.”
“When? How long ago?”
“I don’t know?” She laughed. “Maybe a quarter of an hour ago?” 
Your heart dropped and soared all at once. He’d been here and you’d missed him. But he’d left you a donut. 
You cautiously removed the donut from its bag and before you took a bite you muttered to yourself, “thanks Spencer.”
***
Two days later right smack bang in coffee lovers rush hour, he appeared again. He sidestepped being served by your colleague and as a dad and his boisterous children stepped away, he materialised in front of you.
“Hi.” He smiled. “How was the donut?”
“It was good thanks.” You blushed, you couldn’t help yourself. 
“Good.” He blushed slightly too. “So you know my name, am I allowed to know yours?”
You giggled a little and pointed at your name badge pinned to your apron.
“Y/N.” 
Oh god he felt foolish. He’d never thought to look. 
“Oh yeah.” His blush deepened. “Sorry.”
“Can you hurry it up!” A large, angry looking man behind Spencer grumbled. “I don’t got all day for your flirting.”
You both blushed again at his words.
“Uhm...black coffee?”
“Yes please. And a donut of your choice.” 
You set about making his drink, trying not to stare at him but it was hard when he was so gorgeous. 
You picked out two chocolate sprinkle donuts and bagged them separately. 
“Why two?” He frowned a little when you slid one over the counter. 
“It’s your turn to have a donut on me.” You pulled at all your confidence and winked at him. “Coffees on me too.”
“What? I can’t do that.” He shook his head a little frantic. 
“You’ll think of a way to return the favour.” You smiled at him and then you moved on to serve your next customer while Spencer just stared, slightly slack jawed. 
***
Another few weeks passed and Spencer didn’t come back into the coffee shop. You worried you scared him off with your blatant flirtatiousness. Maybe you’d come on too strong. 
Just when you’d resided yourself to the fact you had indeed frightened him away and that he was probably getting his fix at Starbucks rather than your small boutique cafe, a delivery man of all people proved you wrong.
He nudged the door open with his hip, a large flat box in his hands.
“I’m looking for Y/N.” He grunted slightly as he came to the counter.
“That’s me.” You pointed at your name badge. How did people always miss that?
“These are for you.” He set the box down on the counter. 
You stared down at the delights through the transparent lid. At least a dozen donuts of all varieties laid inside. 
You looked back up but the delivery man had already gone. 
You carried your treats through to the back office and opened the lid where you found a small note inside. 
You unfolded it and read the messy handwriting inside.
Y/N, 
Sorry I haven’t been in for a while, my job is hectic. But I wanted to make up for it, so here is a donut for everyday I haven’t been able to see you. Hope to see you soon,
Spencer.
You felt yourself blushing as you read his words over and over. He wasn’t avoiding you. You hadn’t freaked him out. He sent you a donut for every day you’d been apart. 
God this man was something else. You couldn’t wait to thank him to his face. You just hoped you didn’t have to wait too long.
***
It was another week before you spotted that mop of curly hair sat at a table outside the coffee shop in the DC sunshine. 
You waited for the place to quieten down, placed two chocolate custard donuts on plates and took your break. 
You took a few deep breaths as you pushed open the cafe door and stepped out onto the street. He had his back to you reading a newspaper as you approached. 
“I thought it was high time I returned the favour.” You spoke, making Spencer almost jump out of his seat. 
You giggled a little and without being invited you slid into the empty seat opposite him. 
“Oh hi Y/N.” He spoke, regaining his composure and folding his newspaper. 
You slid him one of the donuts.
“Hi Spencer.” You smiled back at him. 
You kept eye contact as you both took a bite of your respective donuts. 
“So, as much as I love trading donuts back and forth,” you started between mouthfuls. “Are you ever going to ask me on a date?” 
You weren’t sure what came over you, you were never so forward with men. But Spencer was different. You would do anything it took to make him yours. The attraction between the two of you was palpable. He’d made the first move with the donuts, now it was your turn.
“That’s why I’m here.” He smiled at you and it sent shivers down your spine. “What time do you get off work?” 
“Five.” 
He looked at his watch, it was just before two.
“Ok, I’ll be right here when you finish.” 
“You’re going to wait all that time for me?” You couldn’t hide your blush.
“As long as I have coffee, I don’t mind waiting.” His smile turned a little shy and you thought it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. 
“I’ll make sure you never have an empty cup.” You finished your donuts, your eyes fixed on one another. “I need to get back.”
“I’ll be waiting.” You pushed your chair back and stood up. 
“Where do you want to go for dinner?” He looked up at you, eyes sparkling. 
You thought about this for a second before you grinned. You started walking away and turned to speak over your shoulder. 
“I donut mind Spencer. I donut mind at all.” 
479 notes · View notes
i-need-air · 3 years
Text
"You promise?" Bakugou Katsuki x PS!Reader;
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Word count: 3.3k;
Warnings/tags: nsfw; smut and then some plot happened; no beta, we die like men here; f!reader; plus-size!reader; aged up Bakugou; implied Pro-Hero Bakugou;
Notes: So I have decided to write more stories about plus size readers because I can't find many and that's discouraging. This one is me testing the waters, but expect some more. Thank you for reading! 💕
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You gasped as he turned your body around, manhandling you with ease and pushing your chest hard against the messy and undone bed. He was breathing hard, trying to calm himself up as he pumped his cock in one hand, the other grasping the curve of your bare ass with force.
You whimpered, desperate to get filled again as he took you away from your increasing need to orgasm, cunt clenching into the air, feverish and needy.
When his palm collapsed into your bum, your whole body shook and a lewd, desperate and almost crazed moan left your mouth.
"Shit—" his fingers dug back into your ass, shaking it as he licked his lips. "—you're so fucking sexy, princess." God, his voice was delicious. So rough and somehow still sounded like honey into your ears.
"Katsuki, please..." you glanced back at him, momentarily taken back by how intense those ruby orbs of his were already expecting yours. Sweaty, naked, chiseled chest luscious, panting heavily, one hand still pumping his cock in slow manners. His expression was delicious to say at least, desire written all over him. Your soaked core spasmed involuntarily when his wet tongue licked his lips, grinning at you.
"Fuck me, princess—" the tip caressed your entrance slowly and you mewled, trying to back into it and get any sort of friction. "—that fucker was an idiot to let you go." The tip went in, just barely, and you bit your lip in anticipation.
Hell, you forgot about that idiot. Just a flash of his idiotic face came through your mind before Katsuki pushed inside, slow, pleased with himself as you opened your trembling legs to welcome him yet again.
"Katsu, please, fuck me already..." almost ashamed you said, but your body craved him like it never craved anything or anyone else. So thick, so big, you swore you could feel the large veins running over his cock as he dipped in more.
"Fucking—" he groaned, leaning over and grabbing your plump hips, fingers dipping into your soft, malleable skin. "—perfect—" his first real, deep trust made your eyes roll in pleasure. Yes, yes, yes was all you could think. "—begging for my cock like that." His raspy voice suddently sounded by your ear before he bit down into your shoulder and you moaned, already half gone.
He filled you so good, so well with each trust. Your body shook, his chest glued to your back, sweat mixing together. The sound of skin slapping skin drove you mad and the audible wetness of your pussy didn't even make you ashamed.
Katsuki started almost destroying your cunt with each increasing moan of yours. You whimpered as he still manhandled you with no problem, adoring how strong he was to be able to lift all your top half and still pump into you without pause.
Cloudy mind, thoughts all gone, only the fact that your lowel stomach was on fire remained. And those fucking hands of his, so incredibly big were grabbing your breasts, molding as he groaned.
"—tsuki!" You needed it. You needed him. Your body begged for its release with fervor so without realizing it, your hand moved to rub your clit as you panted loud. He grabbed your wrist just as you were about to reach your destination.
"No, princess—" just to make the point clear, with another hand he locked your neck in place, pulling just enough to curve the small of your back into him. The new sensation made you whimper again. Hard enough to keep you locked in place but not enough to blurr your vision. Not that it was needed, since his continuous rhythm straight into your core did it anyways. "—'m gonna take care of you." He whispered into your cheek, lips glued to your skin. Katsuki almost sounded desperate but you couldn't tell much as he started rubbing your clit just above it with jerky, unfocused movements and you screamed a moan, clenching around his cock.
He was losing his mind, he couldn't think clear. His own moans, grunts and growls accompanied your sweet voice and this was heaven for him. For how many nights he dreamed of fucking your pretty little pussy? How many fucking times he jerked off to the image of you? And here you were, spread opened for him, mewling his name like a prayer, any other words forgotten. Bakugou threw his head back in a silent thank to the heavens as your cunt clenched yet again against him.
The moment he pushed your body into his member, that's when you trembled. Close, so fucking close. You forgot how to talk so you just begged as you were slammed again and again into him, feeling so small and weak in comparison to his brutal strength.
"I'm gonna— nngh— I'm—" you attempted but the sound of your squelching pussy distracted you. God, you were so, so wet, and God, he was fucking you so, so good.
"You gonna come, baby?" He gritted his teeth, pushing himself into your body, meeting you half-way. "You gonna cum on my cock?"
"Mmm—y-yeah." Almost. Almost. More! "Fuck! Harder! Please, please, plea—"
He didn't hesitate. If you thought he was rough, rhythm unforgiving into your tight pussy before, the way he thrusted his hips roughly, brutally into you made you instantly spasm. Eyes rolled back, mouth opened and lewd, desperate cries never as loud, your vision blackened for a second as you came. His fingers were still on your over-abused clit, rubbing and prolonging the orgasm as it came in waves.
He groaned into your neck, hips movements jerky as he chased his own release, feeling you milk him tightly as you came and came. The way you moaned his name drove him to the edge as he almost said it. The three words he felt for more than a year now. How he fucking wanted to break you as he swore them, but not yet.
As you rode your orgasm, you felt his approach. His strong fingers left your nub, instead he opted to wrap his whole arm around you and push his final, jerky moves before he groaned your name loudly into your ear. With few pumps left, cum filling your cunt and painting your walls white, you tilted your head to moan for him as your skin tingled under his touch. Your lips met in a slow kiss as he still rubbed against you until he finally stilled.
The palm of his hand pulled you closer by the cheek, deepening the kiss. You were both breathing heavily, throwing sloppy mouth opened kisses and trying to recover from what just happened.
"Fuck, princess..." still inside of you, he kissed and kissed, from your lips your jaw and back again to your mouth. With a hiss, he pulled from you but didn't go further back, instead he opted to turn you back towards him and gently lead you to lay down on the bed before he landed on top of you with a grunt.
"Holy fuck..." you muttered absolutely dazed while looking at the ceiling, feeling him rub himself against your ample chest and wrapping his arms all over your body. Did that just happen? You thought. It earned a snicker from him immediately.
"You can say that."
Handsy. Even if he was still panting, his hands grabbed flesh, palms dragging from your ass to hips to your shoulder blade, back to your chest to mold with it. It felt so natural, like you've done this countless times before, but no. This started as an unfortunate night and turned into perfection.
Tongue ran between your breasts, licking the sweat away and making you finally look down at the Adonis of a man plastered over you. He was giant, enormous. Big muscles, tanned and scarred skin, a head of fluffy ash blond hair and mischievous and dazy eyes. He looked drunk, you thought at first with a giggle, to which he raised a brow at you as his tongue reached upwards into your collarbone but your hand grasped the hairs at the back of his neck to pause him.
"Behave." You scolded. It was taking a while to recover from that earth shattering orgasm and he seemed to enjoy seeing you still attempt to regain all your senses.
His teeth ran over the bone before he left open mouthed kisses, long and watery. You tried to push him away gently but the shockwave of pleasure ran through your whole body and you gave him more access.
"Can't fucking expect me to behave—" he mocked, touching everywhere; so warm and heavy on your body, leaving a trail of lava. Not even noticing it, his thumb ran over your hardened nipple as he palmed your chest and Bakugou smirked into your collarbone when you arched into him, craving move. "—when you practically beg me to fuck you again like that, hmm?" It came out slurred as he licked your skin clean, then bit and licked again.
Katsuki wasn't going to let this opportunity waste. He was going to mark you and make you his again and again until all you knew was his name, his face and his cock burried inside of you. For so fucking long he waited...
His knee parted your tights as he grabbed your face into a forceful kiss. He dragged his lips long and hard against yours and grunted into your accepting moan. The way you pushed back into the kiss with the same strength sent a jolt down his body straight to his dick, loving how needy you were for him, adoring how you wanted him as much as he wanted you.
Feverish and again desperate, you rubbed your tight into his hardening member just to feel his breath tremble and fan over your face, satisfaction running through you.
But you halted and froze when his palm moved down, rubbing over your stomach casually. He wanted to reach lower and make you whimper again in his mouth, just as he fastly learned to adore, but your sudden change in attitude made him snap his eyes open and freeze in place as he waited for you to say anything.
He blinked worried as he caught your in guard expression, but your orbs didn't meet. You just looked down at the placement of his hand, lips pursed.
Images of your ex boyfriend flashed again in your mind, but this time the whole scenario took over. How he berated you, how he insulted you. How disgusted he looked as he gave you an up and down, calling you all sort of names in relation to your weight.
He saw it. The hurt in your eyes was so clear it almost made him bolt out of bed to go punch a mother-fucker. But no, at least not at the moment. Even if his guts turned with rage, all he wanted to do was to finally make it right. To finally make you his, something he should've done the moment he firstly met you and knew you were perfect for him.
Bakugou Katsuki was finally ready to talk and not let another opportunity waste ever again. He almost lost you once to a piece of garbage. It was time.
"I meant it." He ran his hand towards your hip to bring you back to reality. Your furrowed brows showed confusion as you really did try to hide under him. From his own gaze.
God, Katsuki wanted to kill someone. "You're perfect. You better fucking know that." He growled, lowering his face to yours again as he read your expression thoroughly. There was no escaping him once he made his decision. He was a stubborn asshole and planned to be your stubborn asshole after this.
A grin washed over him as he noticed how flustered you became but it didn't satisfy him. The look of bashful uncertainty, the millisecond it appeared and dissappeared from your expression was enough to make him know he'll always make sure to remind you that, in fact, you are perfect.
"You don't fucking get it, hah?" He growled into your lips before landing a strong peck. "You don't see how fucking beautiful you are." Another one. "How sexy and amazing you are." He growled into you this time, tongue invading your mouth as he layed all his body weight on you.
Iron grip parted your legs as he mindlessly positioned himself between them, fingers digging into your tight for support. But he stopped himself to place his forehead against yours, leaning on his elbow and hand into fist by your head.
"I had to watch you date that fucker for months." Your mouth went dry as he closed his eyes, not knowing he was trying to erase the memory of you kissing someone else; the memory of the bitterness on his tongue when barely a month prior to you dating that trashbag he finally realized just how deep he was in love with you; the dullness in his heart when you started fading away from your friendship to be with what ended to be a shit stain of a man.
"I had to watch the woman I fucking loved be with someone else—" his jaw clenched and he still had to open his eyes. It was hard to open up. His throat burned and he knew, if he dared to open them, he'd fall again into your spell and would forget how to talk. "Shit, [Y/N]—" he started cussing and the following kiss was so different, fragile even.
Meanwhile, the growing butterflies in your stomach started revolting as you observed the man that stole your heart a year ago struggle to confess that all that time he felt the same way. You didn't miss his trembling lip, or how he masked a sniffle with a sharp inhale as he breathed you in for a slow, needy kiss. Encircling him into your arms, you pulled and grasped his back muscles until you were almost one.
"I can't— I can't lose you again." He confessed. "Let me—" any attempt to talk got stuck in his throat. The moment he opened his eyes to ultimately seek you in, all he found was you tearing up under him. God, he almost panicked violently, about to jump back and regret making you uncomfortable with anything he word vomited but that was until he saw your smile, the corners of your lips shaky. Why did you look broken though?
"You loved me?"
"Love." Not even a moment to breathe he gave you, just corrected your sentence with no second thought. "I love you."
"You love me." You gaped at him, smile widening and tears falling freely. Bakugou did not know what the hell to do anymore so he opted to curtly nod, his heart playing the drums in his chest, same chest that was now colored red.
The same guy that fucked you roughly just to make you forget of a piece of shit ex that made you feel less than adequate, the same man that forced a kiss into you and somehow managed to get you into your own bed to make you feel like a goddess, the same ridiculous idiot that made you experience nirvana was now getting red of embarrassment.
But we're also talking about the same man that also did not know how to say what he truly felt unless he threatened to obliviate someone. The same man that took it upon himself to tell you he in fact loved you.
"I always loved you, Katsuki." Your lips trembled as you covered your eyes to wipe the tears threatening to fall like a cascade.
"You—?" How could you miss his choked up expression? "You... always loved... me?" The rush you felt at his cracked voice made your heart break. "Why didn't you— And... why the hell did you fucking— Why the hell did you start dating that fucking asshole then?"
Ah, that. It wasn't easy to remember those days. The way he ignored everyone, the way he always focused on his hero work, the way he snapped at you and treated you just as an annoyance at times, not much different of how he treated the others that managed and succeeded to somehow befriend him. You were friends, somewhat good friends, but that's it. Bakugou Katsuki would've never looked at you that way anyway. Impossible. Not when he had fangirls swarming over him every day. He payed them no mind but you knew it wouldn't take long for him to find someone. Your poor heart would've broken at the mere sight of him final finding a person truly deserving of him and you did not want to be there whenever it happened. The sea of absolutely beautiful women that started surrounding him just as he got more famous threatened to thicken day by day. It was only time...
"I wanted to move on because..." Your ex asked you out, plain and simple. And you launched yourself at the opportunity with desperate claws, all just to get away from an imminent heartbreak. To forget about...
"Because?!"
"I never thought you'd ever be with someone like... me..." His soul left his body momentarily. Blank red eyes just stared at you until an ugly scowl washed over him.
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?!" But you just sighed and looked down at your plump and curvy body, signaling with your hand as if it was obvious yet got another blank stare. "That supposed to mean something?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Katsuki. Like you never heard people commenting about us whenever we went out. It's fucking weird!" You attempted to push him off you but he did not bulge, just scowled. "It was weird when we were friends— I'm so fat and you're just so—" you push again but don't attempt to finish the sentence. "They all whispered how the fuck can you be around m—me!"
"Who the fuck dared to say that?" The icy tone made you freeze.
"Everyone. Everywhere we went."
"HAH?!" Your wrist was in his grip as he tried to catch your attention. "And who the fuck cares what they think?!"
"I did..." You mumbled, giddy and ashamed at the same time, feeling so out of place arguing after you both confessed. "I thought— I think that too."
"Fuck no." He deadpanned.
"What?" You stupidly asked, confused.
"I said fuck no. You don't get to fucking think that about the woman I love, dumbass." There he is. You blurted out laughing at his random remark. The way he easily made your chest burn with love, straightforwardly throwing such words without care. "The fuck you laughing at? I'm serious. I will break you, woman." You giggle some more because he sounded dead serious. Tension washed off his shoulders but he did not sound teasing, just matter-of-factly.
There was more to talk about, but your eyes stung, your heart went through a tsunami in a single day and you just now remembered how awfully naked both of you actually were. As if suddently shy under the memories of rushed sex, kisses and confessions, you bit your lip and batted your eyelashes at him. Maybe it was time to meet him in the middle.
He finds himself enthralled at the sight under him. Specially at how your lips curled deliciously before you said: "You promise?"
And that's how Bakugou Katsuki groaned and barely surpressed a cuss before falling back into your arms, ready to show you that indeed you two are made for each other. To imprint in that pretty head of yours that you're perfection to him.
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451 notes · View notes
danddymaro · 3 years
Text
Stubborn | Rohan Kishibe x Reader
Recap :
- Kira is Dead (LOL)
Josuke isn't massively fucked as he was in the last episode LMFAO. Basically, things went a LOT smoother here, with only one little exception.
Rohan admitting his feelings while almost losing his (F/n)
Character injury 
Major change in story
Happy end , no worries
Warning : Not so much romanticism but it was an idea I've had. And we just need to get these drafts outta here.
A/N:
Thoughts are in italics and quotations // �� Example,’
Flashback are all in just Italics
Word count: 3451
Stubborn
Rohan glowered at the younger, limping male as he trudged his way closer to him and the woman that was gingerly held within his secure hold.
"You..." the emerald-eyed male sneered before tenderly easing the (h/c) haired female down, mindful not to bring her any more unneeded distress.
He was then quick to shoot back up, moving in long strides, advancing towards Josuke with no trace of the tenderness he'd held moments ago, but rather, maliciousness that itched over his features as he came face to face with the younger.
“ Stay back !”  Rohan nearly roared, moving to stop the dark-haired teen from further advancing towards the hurt, (h/c) haired young woman as she lay injured on the concrete ground.
Jojo was then pushed back by a jut to the shoulder that was executed by a bloodied hand that stayed and had every intention in the world from letting him advance forward.
"Don't you dare come any closer Higashikata," Rohan huffed out with the same venom.
With glaring eyes, Josuke shoved the shaking man aside, quickly doing away with the sudden grip with his own vicious jerking motion, not willing to waste any more time with useless quarrels when it could be spent helping (f/n).
“ - You can't be freaking serious!” Jojo cried out in return while not holding back on the aggressive shove,  "What are you doing?" He then proceeded to ask, his tone wavering in the slightest, struck by the elder man's opposition. 
'- Don't you care about her?' He wondered with bared teeth, ' Doesn't it hurt you to see her like this?' He added, eyeing her beaten sight, all with threatening tears ready to path way onto his young, yet worn face.
“- I need to heal her”!  He then declared as he reached out past the artist, all in spite of  his determination to stand in opposition
.
‘Closer...I'm almost there... I'm almost there (f/n),’ Josuke thought to himself, knowing he was just centimeters away from his stand’s working range.
“ What you need to do is get the hell away from her!” Rohan retorted, still fighting back, and yet, throughout the entire time, he hadn't taken the liberty to look down at (f/n), instead, training his spite-filled green orbs eyes on the frantic teenager.
 “I didn't ask for your help!” Kishibe added, his spite heightened as he reminded himself just why she'd been targeted.
‘If it weren’t for you…’ The mangaka thought to himself, glaring venomously at the other male. ‘If it weren’t for you.... this wouldn’t have happened…’ He thought with assurance. 
'If she hadn't gone out of her way...all for you...' He then added with the same spite, his entire body trembling with fury.
"I'll get her out of here myself, And I don't need you to get in the way!" Kishibe added, soon hearing sirens in the distance as the paramedics approached.
"I don't need your help," He proceeded to speak lowly.
"- But she does," Josuke said back, sternness in his voice, "and I'm going to save her," he said with certainty, not wanting to have another loss on his hands.
"I didn't ask for your help," Rohan insisted, and the arrogant declaration stiffened the teen with silence. “Because if it weren't for you..." Rohan then repeated out loud, his sentence going unfinished before he continued with another line instead. 
  "....You should have just stayed away from her, ” he maundered, going ignored by Josuke as he wordlessly brought out his stand, the large humanoid being standing tall and just as determined as its wielder, who by then had a grasp on what the real issue was.
It only took the few uttered words prior to understand the true reason behind the elder male's actions, and it made him seethe with rage,  
“ You're pathetic,” Josuke said below his breath, unable to look away from (f/n) as he spoke, doing just what the other man couldn't. 
'Is that was this is about?' He wondered, 'That asshole...he can't just man up, can he?
- Not even for you,' He thought bitterly while gazing down at (f/n).
  “I don't give a damn about what you want. And I could care less about that simple-minded pride of yours,”  he went on, his voice rising as he finally took a chance to look back at the other male as he let crazy Diamond's power befall upon the female.
Cobalt met emerald, and in between the fierce gaze were unsaid words shot in between the two, whereas an understanding was made. 
'- Try to stop me.' Josuke taunted Rohan with a tight toothed grit, his body standing rigid straight as his hands which were at his sides trembled with his withheld fury.
The younger's haggard breathing steadied for just a moment as he stood as strong as his convictions were, and the very sight made the other man that glared at him scorn.
“I despise you,” Kishibe hissed before a sharp gasp came from below, the little noise stealing his attention, his eyes finally trailing down to the female to watch as the shattered bits of her bones took form. 
The endless flow of her cuts then closed, stopping the messy spill.
His expression then unscrunched from its frustrated sneer to melting relief as he saw her breathing begin to steady and afterward, a low, drawn-out breath left him as he saw her (e/c) colored eyes slowly flutter open, the lovely drops gradually adjusting to the light of the cloudy sky.
A small grunt emitted from (f/n) before her (e/c) colored eyes fell upon the teen kneeling before her. Her two hazy orbs then locked onto the concerned blues staring down at her,
 'JoJo...it's you...' She thought with a wave of comfort that soon livened her.
And after the relief settled, she then surged with elation, " JoJo! " (f/n) said amidst bubbling joy, her arms immediately circling his neck, tightly holding him with a urgent need to feel him close. 
" Jojo...you're ok," she said sweetly, soon crying into his neck. 
Her face then pressed directly onto blood and grime, ignoring the filthy stench that clung to him as fiercely as she presently did.
 'You're alive...' She thought with joy, knowing that, that was all that mattered.
"...But you’re all beat up," she sniffled afterward, grateful that even if he was injured, he was well enough to stand, enough to tend to her.
A weary chuckle then left her as she realized how fortunate they were to barely scrape by.
“Yeah,” he breathed while releasing the same breathy chortle she did, and instantaneously, his tensed body melted under her loving embrace, realizing that they had somehow gone against the odds, and he was thankful that it was all over. 
" Glad your back...and just as cuddly as ever too," he then smiled, the palms of his hands laying on her back, bringing her close while he returned her affection, grateful that he had another moment with her to add to his memories. 
'He would have taken you too...' Josuke thought while closing his eyes, ‘ He was so close to taking you...' He added while sniffling, grateful that Kira had left without claiming another innocent life.   
Peeking out from over the healer's shoulder, (f/n) then caught sight of the mangaka, observing as his face twisted into frustration, and she wasn't certain if it was fueled by pain or anger.
She noticed he was bloodied too, but couldn't see from where the gore spilled from, and she wondered when he'd arrived.
She asked herself whether or not he'd made it during their fight and had been caught in between as well because he'd seemed to have gone through an entire battle himself.
'Rohan...why do you look so...troubled? So …Beaten?' She wondered with concern, not knowing that the scarlet color that had clung to him so passionately had come from her, unaware that the reason he'd become so tainted by the tint was because of how strongly he'd held her.
He kept her in his arms, his vibrant, green eyes dimmed with horror as he felt how much of her life oozed from her stilled, cooling body.
"(f/n)?" He said softly while gingerly cradling her in a nurturing demeanor that wasn't too difficult to comprehend because by then, any fool could see how much he cared about her. 
By then, every bit of the hesitance he showed before was disregarded as he left himself bare, unable to face the situation with anything but the truth.
Swallowing thickly, he let out a soft, weary chuckle as he looked down at her, his thumb gently gliding over the running red that painted her lovely lips. 
"...You've made your point already, " He murmured softly as he witnessed the flow of his sorrow trail down the sides of her paling face.
' I can't live without you. ' He mused while he sourly smiled. 
"...You're my best friend." He openly admitted to her, the softness in his voice so tender, one would never believe it ever had the viciousness in it to convey his typical arrogance. 
' And I don't want to lose you,'  He thought while pressing his forehead to hers before huffing out three little words that had knotted in his throat before, but somehow, now found easy to utter in spite of the thickness that clotted his throat, 
"I love you..." he huffed, closing his eyes tightly. 
Gingerly, the hand that wasn't supporting her trailed over her bruised cheek before holding it, 
'Why....Why was it so hard to say before?' he wondered with frustration. 'Why is it that now, now that I finally have it in me to say it...you can't even respond back,' he added, lamenting being so cold with her in the past. 
 "Can't you hear me?" he asked her softly.
It was then that each and every instance he'd shown her anything but welcome tormented him because he recognized that every second of those memories could have been filled with her smiles instead.
If he hadn't been so bullheaded, then maybe he would have let his pride go for a moment and tell her what he felt.
If he hadn't let her go hours before, then she wouldn't have been in the killer's sight.
If he'd just pulled her back into his home and told her that he wanted her to stay a moment longer, then the outcome would have been different.
"Now, please...just wake up," He compromised with her, " Please...?" He whispered faintly, his voice falling into silence as she stayed still, unstirred by his plea.
And as he continued to speak and beg, the white material of his clothes soaked in the infectious red, letting it creep through the fibers until every thread was replaced with the color of her fleeting life.
And it wasn't long before the murmurs of bargain he released were then drowned out by a familiar voice, and it was at that moment that all of his suffrage evolved into bitter resentment.
' Why do you insist on risking yourself for him...?' Rohan thought with bitterness, witnessing how willingly she leaned into the other male, and much more, how happy she was to see him. 
'Don't you get it?' He continued to silently maunder, 'Don't you get that ...eventually...one day...he won't be able to heal you?' he added.
'In the end...he'll lose you too...'
"Rohan..." She breathed, slowly easing away from Josuke, offering him one last smile before her eyes found their entire focus drawn to the irritated male whose sight drew far from hers, finding the rubble of the street more his taste.
His lips were pressed together until his mouth formed a thin, firm line that wouldn't allow a single peep to escape. 
'Do you remember any of it?' he then wondered, not knowing which one of his organs had it worse, his twisting stomach of his overworked heart.
Slowly, his face filled with red, and he lost his ability to gaze at her any longer without turning completely vermillion.
Before she could question his sudden fluster, a faint memory of a sweet, sorrowful murmur came forth, and it made her eyes grow wide. 
With widely peeled (e/c) colored eyes she gazed at the dejected male before trudging her way to him, all while slowly functioning before happiness flooded her and filled her with giddiness.
'It was you...' She thought with a bursting heart, her hands both flying to her torso to press over her heaving chest.
"Rohan!" she said while suddenly leaping towards him, surprising him with the sudden pounce. 
"Rohan! I..." swallowing down thickly she chuckled, hoping it wasn't a delusion of hers.
'I heard... I think I heard you,' She thought with a heavy heart. ' I think that … we feel the same...' She mused while she felt his arms tightly wrapped around her. 
She took the risk and pressed her lips to his, quickly discovering that she was accepted by the simple ease he displayed while melted along with her. 
As Josuke watched, he took notice of the embrace they shared, observing the longing glow in Rohan’s eyes before they shut tight, taking in the way his hands held her, almost as though there was nothing more precious to him as she was.
"Of all people..." Josuke started, slowly shaking his head at the young woman, unsure of what to tell her, deciding to go with what was most obvious, and could basically sum it all up, 
"Rohan...That guy...he's just insufferable," he mumbled lowly, and it made (f/n) giggle. 
Rather than be insulted, the young smiled instead, 
"He is, isn't he?" She admitted, unable to count all the times the man had made her fume, because, truth be told, he got under her skin more than anyone else could.
"He's insufferable, and kind of full of himself, and don't forget that he can be a real jerk too," She added while looking up at the bright sky. 
"He's all of those things," she admitted while continuing to beam, acknowledging Rohan's worst points and accepting them.
"- But he's also sweet," She informed the Joestar descendent.
 "When you ask him something, he might say no," She reminded him, " But for the most part, he'll give in, with almost no fight, just an annoyed, little sigh that makes it seem as though he could be doing better things when in reality it's all a front," She informed the listening male.
"It's all a front so you won't see how eager he is to please everyone," She explained. 
" And it doesn't come from insecurity," She quickly added with certainty.
"It's not that he wants to be loved by everyone, or needs their validation," She further explained, making certain he grasped the reasoning behind the other man's actions.
 "He's just...Well,  he just wants to have all the answers, which in turn will help everyone he loves, and cares about, and that is including you." She spoke, and during the last bit, Josuke scoffed.
" He can't stand me!" he said with certainty, " But it's not like I care !" He quickly added. "'Cause it's not like I like the guy either, So it doesn't bother me one bit, " he added with a huff, crossing his arms while trying to seem indifferent. 
"You've gotten the best out of him." she started,  " - More than once," She then added with sagging shoulders.
 "To him, you're a rival. No matter what he says, you're on par with him. And the small admiration he has for you is flushed within that stupid arrogance of his." she sighed, wishing it wasn't so.
"He's just such a sore loser, and what's much worse, he hates having depts., because it means that he's somehow failed,"  she added, falling into the root of the problem.
"He might seem like he hates you, but if anything were to happen to you, he'd be concerned, " She revealed. "Because, Morioh is his home, and he knows that if anyone is capable of protecting it, it's you," she said while gazing at him with trust, setting the same trust on the youth.
 "He wants to be the one to do it...and in his own way he does, but he's well aware that when it comes down to it, you have the strength he lacks," (f/n) continued on. 
"He detests it...but at the same time... he's so grateful." She said with amusement, remembering that the only reason she'd come to the conclusion was because Rohan had let just a bit too much of the truth slip out during their talks. 
"He seems difficult to understand, but, that's just because you think about it too much. He's not so complex. He's just a bit eccentric and weird, " She said with assurance. 
"And weaved within all that strange nature is a good person." She added with a grand smile.
"You could write a whole book on him, huh?" Josuke teased, and she took it in with a bright glow, hanging her head afterward, 
"It'd just be a long love letter," She said while grinning stupidly, it being something Josuke threw his head back at. 
He laughed, openly teasing her, but silently admiring her at the same time.
'That's what I want,' he then mused. 
'Someone like that. 
Someone that dedicated. 
Someone that's willing to understand me,' He thought while praising the young woman, hoping he'll be lucky enough to have someone as comprehensive and sweet as her one day. 
In a sense, it reminded him of his mother and the sweet way she always expressed herself about Joseph Joestar. Granted, the situation hadn't been ideal, but he always smiled when his mom showed her tender side as she recalled the love she still held onto.
Josuke was well aware of how much she'd suffered, but when he'd asked her if she could change it all, she never changed her answer. 
She always chose to relive it all, and Josuke accepted it, compromising with himself that even if it ended up in suffrage, he'd be willing to cherish every moment he had with the one person that could give him that same love and understanding.
' That idiot...' Josuke thought to himself, unable to understand how Rohan couldn't see the way her eyes glowed when she looked at him. 
'That giant idiot,' He added, feeling insulted on the young woman's behalf whenever the other man showed jealousy towards their friendship, one that he never had any intention to morph into anything else, because it wasn't necessary.
And (f/n) would never dream of it either.
' Isn't it obvious?' He wondered, '(f/n) doesn't see anyone but you, just like, sometimes, you can't see a damn thing besides her,' He added.
For just a split second the two men aligned their eyes together, yet again lively green and bright blue met, though, with a different message sent in between, and it was almost amiable.
The artist's hand held the young woman's, tightly grasping it as he pulled her along before they both stood before the teen. 
"Josuke...Higashikata," Rohan said lowly, uttering the name with the same disdain as always,
"You won't hear this from me ever again, " he started before quickly looking back at the darling woman for a quick charge up in inspiration.
"But..." He started, all while still eyeing (f/n), " Thank you." he breathed, trying to keep his face stern, though faltering as he remembered the pitiful state the female had been in moments ago. 
"Thank you for healing her,"  He said with true gratefulness before looking back at the other male. 
At a loss for words, Josuke stayed silent before nodding quickly, 
'Sure, ' he silently added because he was left blubbering and flustered, having no chance for recovery before Rohan retreated, leaving with the young woman close behind him.
She looked back at him with a halfhearted smile, partially apologizing for not staying any longer, and somewhat sheepish for simply walking away with the other man while Josuke was still injured himself. 
But, the Joestar descendent didn’t mind in the least bit.
Granted, Rohan Kishibe wasn't his favorite person in the world, but he made his friend happy, and after the shitty day they'd had, Jojo wasn't going to insist to have her stay with him instead for what was just a couple of stitches he needed.
He then walked over the sidewalk, moving towards a more comfortable spot on the grass to lay on as he heard the blaring sirens ring louder. 
With a smile, he looked up at the Morioh sky, and he smiled, grateful that the bizarre summer of 1999 was finally over with. 
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soundsfaebutokay · 3 years
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youtube
So I've recc'd this video before, but it deserves its own post because it's one of my favorite things on youtube. It's a Tedx Talk by comics writer, editor, and journalist Jay Edidin, and I really think that it will connect with a lot of people here.
If you live and breathe stories of all kinds, you might like this.
If you care about media representation, you might like this.
If you're neurodivergent, you might like this.
If you're interested in a gender transition story that veers from the norm, you might like this.
If you love the original Leverage and especially Parker, and understand how important it is that a character like her exists, you will definitely like this.
Transcript below the cut:
You Are Here: The Cartography of Stories
by Jay Edidin
I am autistic. And what this means in practice is that there are some things that are easier for me than they are for most people, and a great many things that are somewhat harder, and these affect my life in more or less overt ways. As it goes, I'm pretty lucky. I've been able to build a career around special interests and granular obsession. My main gig at the moment is explaining superhero comics continuity and publishing history for which work I am somehow paid in actual legal currency—which is both a triumph of the frivolous in an era of the frantically pragmatic, and a job that's really singularly suited to my strengths and also to my idiosyncrasies.
I like comics. I like stories in general, because they make sense to me in ways that the rest of the world and my own mind often don't. Self-knowledge is not an intuitive thing for me. What sense of self I have, I've built gradually and laboriously and mostly through long-term pattern recognition. For decades, I didn't even really have a self-image. If you'd asked me to draw myself, I would eventually have given you a pair of glasses and maybe a very messy scribble of hair, and that would've been about it. But what I do know—backwards, forwards, and in pretty much every way that matters—are stories. I know how they work. I understand their language, their complex inner clockwork, and I can use those things to extrapolate a sort of external compass that picks up where my internal one falls short. Stories—their forms, their structure, the sense of order inherent to them—give me the means to navigate what otherwise, at least for me, would be an impassable storm of unparsable data. Or stories are a periscope, angled to access the parts of myself I can't intuitively see. Or stories are a series of mirrors by which I can assemble a composite sketch of an identity I rarely recognize whole...which is how I worked out that I was transgender, in my early thirties, by way of a television show.
This is my story. And it's about narrative cartography, and representation, and why those things matter. It's about autism and it's about gender and it's about how they intersect. And it's about the kinds of people we know how to see, and the kinds of people we don't. It's not the kind of story that gets told a lot, you might hear a lot, because the narrative around gender transition and dysphoria in our culture is really, really prescriptive. It's basically the story of the kid who has known for their whole life that they're this and not that, and that story demands the kind of intuitive self-knowledge that I can't really do, and a kind of relationship to gender that I don't really have—which is part of why it took me so long to figure my own stuff out.
So, to what extent this story, my story has a beginning, it begins early in 2014 when I published an essay titled, "I See Your Value Now: Asperger's and the Art of Allegory." And it explored, among other things, the ways that I use narrative and narrative structures to navigate real life. And it got picked up in a number of fairly prominent places that got linked, and I casually followed the ensuing discussion. And I was surprised to discover that readers were fairly consistently assuming I was a man. Now, that in itself wasn't a new experience for me, even though at the time I was writing under a very unambiguously female byline. It had happened in the letter columns of comics I'd edited. It had happened when a parody Twitter account I'd created went viral. When I was on staff at Wired, I budgeted for fancy scotch by putting a dollar in a box every time a reader responded in a way that made it clear they were assuming I was a man in response to an article where my name was clearly visible, and then I had to stop doing that because it happened so often I couldn't afford to keep it up. But in all of those cases, the context, you know, the reasons were pretty obvious. The fields I'd worked in, the beats I covered, they were places where women had had to fight disproportionally hard for visibility and recognition. We live in a culture that assumes a male default, so given a neutral voice and a character limit, most readers will assume a male author.
But this was different, because this wasn't just a book I'd edited, it wasn't a story I'd reported—it was me, it was my story. And it made me uncomfortable, got under my skin in ways that the other stuff really hadn't. And so I did what I do when that happens, and I tried to sort of reverse-engineer it to look at the conclusions and peel them back to see the narratives behind them and the stories that made them tick. And I started this, I started this by going back to the text of the essay, and you know, examining it every way I could think of: looking at craft, looking at content. And in doing so, I was surprised to realize that while I had written about a number of characters with whom I identified closely, that every single one of those characters I'd written about was male. And that surprised me even more than the responses to the essay had, because I've spent my career writing and talking and thinking about gender and representation in popular media. In 2014, I'd been the feminist gadfly of an editorial department and multiple mastheads. I'd been a founding board member of an organization that existed to advocate for more and better representation of women and girls in comics characters and creators. And most of my favorite characters, the ones I'd actively seek out and follow, were women. Just not, apparently, the characters I saw myself in.
Now I still didn't realize it was me at this point. Remember: self-knowledge, not very intuitive for me. And while I had spent a lot of time thinking about gender, I'd never really bothered to think much about my own. I knew academically that the way other people read and interpreted my gender affected and had influenced a lifetime of social and professional interactions, and that those in turn had informed the person I'd grown up into during that time. But I really believed, like I just sort of had in the back of my head, that if you peeled away all of that social conditioning, you'd basically end up with what I got when I tried to draw a self-portrait. So: a pair of glasses, messy scribble of hair, and in this case, maybe also some very strong opinions about the X-Men. I mean, I knew something was off. I'd always known something was off, that my relationship to gender was messy and uncomfortable, but gender itself struck me as messy and uncomfortable, and it had never been a large enough part of how I defined myself to really feel like something that merited further study, and I had deadlines, and...so it was always on the back burner. So, I looked, I looked at what I had, at this improbable group of exclusively male characters. And I looked and I figured that if this wasn't me, then it had to be a result of the stories I had access to, to choose from, and the entertainment landscape I was looking at. And the funny thing is, I wasn't wrong, exactly. I just wasn't right either.
See, the characters I'd written about had one other significant trait in common aside from their gender, which is that they were all more or less explicitly, more or less heavily coded as autistic. And I thought, "Ah, yes. This explains it. This is under representation in fiction echoing under representation in life and vice versa." Because the characteristics that I'd honed in on, that I particularly identified with in these guys, were things like emotional unavailability and social awkwardness and granular obsession, and all of those are characteristics that are seen as unsympathetic and therefore unmarketable in female characters. Which is also why readers were assuming that I was a man.
Because, you see, here's the thing. I'm not the only one who uses stories to navigate the world. I'm just a little more deliberate about it. For humans, stories formed the bridge between data and understanding. They're where we look when we need to contextualize something new, or to recognize something we're pretty sure we've seen before. They're how we identify ourselves; they're how we locate ourselves and each other in the larger world. There were no fictional women like me; there weren't representations of women like me in media, and so readers were primed not to recognize women like me in real life either.
Now by this point, I had started writing a follow-up essay, and this one was also about autism and narratives, but specifically focused on how they intersected with gender and representation in media. And in context of this essay, I went about looking to see if I could find even one female character who had that cluster of traits I'd been looking for, and I was asking around in autistic communities. And I got a few more or less useful one-off suggestions, and some really, really splendid arguments about semantics and standards, and um...then I got one answer over and over and over in community after community after community. "Leverage," people told me. "You have to watch Leverage."
So I watched Leverage. Leverage is five seasons of ensemble heist drama. It's about a team of very skilled con artists who take down corrupt and powerful plutocrats and the like, and it's a lot of fun, and it's very clever, and it's clever enough that it doesn't really matter that it's pretty formulaic, and I enjoyed it a lot. But what's most important, what Leverage has is Parker.
Parker is a master thief, and she is the best of the best of the best in ways that all of Leverage's characters are the best of the best. And superficially, she looks like the kind of woman you see on TV. So she's young, and she's slender, and she's blonde, and she's attractive but in a sort of approachable way. And all of that familiarity is brilliant misdirection, because the thing is, there are no other women like Parker on TV. Because Parker—even if it's never explicitly stated in the show—Parker is coded incredibly clearly as autistic. Parker is socially awkward. Her speech tends to have limited inflection; what inflection it does have is repetitive and sounds rehearsed a lot of the time. She's not emotionally literate; she struggles with it, and the social skills she develops over the series, she learns by rote, like they're just another grift. When she's not scaling skyscrapers or cartwheeling through laser grids, she wears her body like an ill-fitting suit. Parker moves like me. And Parker, Parker was a revelation—she was a revolution unto herself. In a media landscape where unempathetic women usually exist to either be punished or "loved whole," Parker got to play the crabby savant. And she wasn't emotionally intuitive but it was never ever played as the product of abuse or trauma even though she had survived both of those—it was just part of her, as much as were her hands or her eyes. And she had a genuine character arc. My god, she had a genuine romantic arc, even. And none of that required her to turn into anything other than what she was. And in Parker I recognized a thousand tics and details of my life and my personality...but. I didn't recognize myself.
Why? What difference was there in Parker, you know, between Parker and the other characters I'd written about? Those characters, they'd spanned ethnicities and backgrounds and different media and appearances and the only other characteristic they all had in common was their gender. So that was where I started to look next, and I thought, "Well, okay, maybe, maybe it's masculinity. Maybe if Parker were less feminine, she'd click with me the way those other characters had." So then I tried to imagine a Parker with short hair, who's explicitly butch, and...nothing. So okay, I extended it in what seems like the only logical direction to extend it. I said, "Well, if it's not masculinity, what if it's actual maleness? What if Parker were a man?" Ah. Yeah.
In the end, everything changed, and nothing changed, which is often the way that it goes for me. Add a landmark, no matter how slight, and the map is irrevocably altered. Add a landmark, and paths that were invisible before open wide. Add a landmark, and you may not have moved, but suddenly you know where you are and where you can go.
I wasn't going to tell this story when I started planning this talk. I was gonna tell a similar story, it was about stories, like this is, about narratives and the ways that they influence our culture and vice versa. And it centered around a group of women at NASA who had basically rewritten the narrative around space exploration, and it was a lot more fun, and I still think it was more interesting. But it's also a story you can probably work out for yourselves. In fact it's a story some of you probably have, if you follow that kind of thing, which you probably do given that you're here. And this is a story, my story is not a story that I like to tell. It's not a fun story to talk about because it's very personal and I am a very private person. And it's not universal. And it's not always relatable, and it's definitely not aspirational. And it's not the kind of story that you tend to encounter unless you're already part of it...which is why I'm telling it now. Because the thing is, I'm not the only person who uses stories to parse the world and navigate it. I'm just a little more deliberate. Because I'm tired of having to rely on composite sketches.
Open your maps. Add a landmark. Reroute accordingly.
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fruityutas · 3 years
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𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗹𝗯𝗼𝘆 ⊱ 𝘀.𝗷𝗻
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poolboy!johnny x milf!reader
genre ~ smut, pwp tbh
not proofread
wc ~ 1.2k
synopsis ~ your husband never gives you any attention anymore, so you resort to fucking the poolboy he hired, not giving a shit if any of the snobs in your gated neighborhood hear or see you in your backyard.
warnings ~ sex without a condom, age gap, cheating, cursing, really this is very self indulgent imagine johnny fucking you in your backyard jeez
note ~ someone pm’d me and we shared many horny johnny ideas and this was one of them so here u guys go <3
taglist ~ @itsapapisongo​
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“i’ll see you on monday, honey!” your good for nothing husband yells to you as he leaves for the week, going on yet another business trip. you didn’t have any care to answer, since he was fucking his assistant on these trips anyway. you weren’t stupid, he knew that you knew, but he didn’t love you just as much as you didn’t him. this whole marriage fell apart years ago, but neither wanted a divorce, in fear of losing the wealth acquired. your kids were grown and in college or had careers of their own by now, visiting every now and then. you were content with your life, you got anything you wanted thanks to your husband. being a trophy wife wasn’t bad per se, you were just bored.
the doorbell ringing draws you out of your thoughts, it must be the new pool hand your husband hired a few days ago. you open the door to a handsome young man. he was barely in his mid twenties, and looked delicious. you smile to yourself, thinking you could surely get used to him being around the house twice a week.
“good afternoon, you must be the wife. i’m johnny, your husband hired me to clean the pool.” his gaze was focused on your face, though you knew he really wanted to look a bit further down.
“well hello johnny, yes of course. the pool is right through here, let me take you.” you close the door behind him, getting a good look at his ass as he walked in front of you. this man was a piece of eye candy, something to get you through the day today. “here it is, the keys to the shed are under the pot near the door. you can use anything in there if you need it.” he nods and you walk back inside, albeit slowly. the kitchen window faces the pool, and it was large enough to see pretty much all of the yard. you lean against the counter, watching johnny so his job. his muscles flexed under the white tee he wore as his hands untangled the hose. you couldn’t help but stare, the sunlight hitting him just right. your gaze makes its way up, and you realize you’ve been caught staring. a smirk creeps onto johnny’s face. you wink at him before looking away to pretend to be occupied.
around ten minutes later, johnny comes inside, slightly sweaty from the labor he’d ben doing. “may i have some water mrs?” you hum and reach into the fridge for a bottle of water. “you know, i’m sure your husband wouldn’t appreciate his wife giving bedroom eyes to the poolboy.” you let out a small laugh, throwing your head back. 
“he’s too busy sleeping with his assistant to care what i do. besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” you creep closer to johnny slowly, stroking his arm and admiring the definition of his muscles. you sigh before walking out to the poolside, inspecting the work done so far. you feel johnny come up behind you, his breathing unsteady. you turn to look at him, and see that he’s flushed. a smirk makes its way to your face, satisfied at being the reason for his problem. 
“what you’re doing to me is so naughty, mrs. getting me riled up and flustered for your own enjoyment.” you turn fully and grab him by the belt loops, pulling him into you.
“are you gonna do something about it?” even if he towered over you, you still had the upper hand. being a mother of multiple children meant you had plenty of experience sexually. johnny takes your bluntness as the opportunity to go through with the thoughts both of you were having. he leans forward and captures your lips in a heated kiss, lips smacking and barely hitting the right spot. 
“you just think you’re so powerful being older, don’t you? well that may be the case but i assure you i’m the real one in charge here.” his confidence turned you on even more. johnny backs you up into a lounger, the soft fabric brushing against your calves. you position yourself on your knees, taking off the robe you had on, revealing a tiny swimsuit underneath. johnny groans at the sight, palming himself through his shorts. you giggle and pull him closer. 
“now johnny, i think i need help getting my top untied. i just can’t reach it!” you turn around and wiggle your ass at him, teasing. his large hand comes down hard on your ass with an audible smack, causing you to jolt. he wastes no time getting you completely naked. the summer breeze hits your pussy, a gasp being drawn from your lips. johnny snickers from behind you, his fingers coming down and spreading your slick around. he begins to toy with your clit, rubbing circles around it. you moan out, the feeling pleasurable.
“you’re so sexy, you know that? i’m gonna fuck the shit out of this pussy.” you whimper at his filthy words, his baritone voice resonating in you. he slaps your ass a few more times before trusting his fingers in you. they were thick and long, filling you relatively well. your husband never took the time for foreplay, always chasing his own high and disregarding your needs. johnny’s fingers plunge in and out of your gushing hole, the wet noises mixing with your moans. you’re so close to your orgasm when johnny removes his digits. you whine out, looking over your shoulder to see him sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “you taste so good, but i bet you feel even better.” he unbuttons his shorts and pulls them down along with his underwear, his cock springing up and slapping his abdomen. precum was leaking from the tip, providing extra lubrication. he uses the tip to spread your wetness around before he plunges his entire length in, bottoming out in you. the stretch was pleasurably painful, your moan evidence of that. johnny doesn’t give you time to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in roughly. his hands grip your hips harshly, pinching the skin. he starts fucking you up and down on his cock, your breasts bouncing with every push. his hips slapping your ass, the sounds of skin on skin echo in your open backyard. you’re too caught up in the pleasure to give a fuck, though. johnny’s low groans are loud, and certainly any neighbor outside can hear them. he grabs some of your hair into a messy ponytail and pulls you up to him. 
“you love my cock don’t you?” you don’t respond, only nodding. his other hand comes up to smack your face, a growl coming from him. “answer me, bitch.” you manage to moan out a weak “yes”, your orgasm rushing to you. you wrap one of your arms around johnny’s while the other one goes to stimulate your clit. his hips stutter against yours, his climax just as close as yours. “you gonna cum, baby?” you let out a small whine and nod at the younger man. his thrusts become harder, and his fingers move yours from your clit in favor of his. “then cum for me.” you let go, your orgasm washing over you like a wave. johnny doesn’t stop his assault on your body, though, overstimulating you in pursuit of his climax. with a few final strong thrusts, johnny’s cock twitches and releases spurts of cum into your pussy. heavy breathing fills the summer air as you both come down from your highs.
“same time next week?”
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