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#ok it's just a little friendly kiss
floral-hex · 8 months
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Another successful therapy session. A+. 100%. I’m probably the best patient there is and I’m pretty much cured forever 🤷🏻‍♂️
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sixosix · 8 months
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kissing lyney awake doesn’t really work. wc 600. fluff, established relationship, more lyney content bc i need him to come home im so desperate its not funny
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lyney sleeping is the only moment you see him at ease. he portrays a convincing act—laid-back, too friendly, performatively elegant, and it’s these that help you forget lyney is nothing like that at all on quiet days.
seeing him breathe slowly, eyes shut, and body language openly comfortable, makes your chest grow inexplicably warm.
there are no curtains. no cards, doves, or leather gloves. just you, him, and the bed with your legs tangled. you’re unable to help yourself, placing a delicate kiss on the apple of his cheek. it’s barely there: just a faint brush of your lips.
so it’s your surprise when lyney’s eyes fly open and a hand reaches for the back of your head before you can pull back.
“did i wake you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
lyney opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a quiet, hoarse groan.
“sorry,” you laugh gently, cupping his face.
“mm… no, don’t be,” lyney says, his eyes threatening to flutter shut from their sluggish weight. the consonants don’t form perfectly in his state. “it seems as… as if even in sleep my body reacts to your kisses eagerly.”
“you sure? it seems like your body seemed rather alarmed, actually.”
lyney smiles tiredly, that alone expressing more than his words could ever try. “if i were alarmed, i would’ve pushed you away. couldn’t you tell that i’m…” his eyes wander down. he makes an indecipherable noise.
“are you going to wake me up like that every morning?” he asks with a slow smirk.
“you told me to wake you up around this time to prepare,” you say, covering your mouth, much to his displeasure. “focus on the clock, not my lips.”
lyney almost whines, like the drama queen he is.
“up, lyney. and let go of my head.”
“no.” he pushes you closer, but his mouth only collides with the back of your fingers. “the cruelty. you’re heartless. kicking a man when he’s down—does this make you happy? do you derive pleasure from making a pleading fool out of this great, renowned magician?”
you successfully slip out of his grasp. he ends up clawing at air. “if you have the energy to complain needlessly, you have the energy to get up.”
lyney sighs heavily. he pulls himself up and pouts at you, like you’ve kicked a stray puppy in front of his eyes. he might be the stray puppy in question.
“if you can kiss me awake, you can also kiss me to stand up.” he yawns halfway through the sentence.
“we won’t get much done if you get your hands near me.”
instead of grinning smugly like you expect him to, lyney’s eyes crinkle alone with his soft smile. he pulls you in by your hips, pressing his forehead against yours and breathing deeply.
“hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, brushing a cheek as his eyes fall shut once again. it doesn’t take even a second before he melts back into the sheets. “you’re still tired, huh? good job performing yesterday. must’ve been exhausting. you can sleep for five more minutes.”
“mmh,” is what he replies with, pawing your waist to ask for something.
you kiss his nose, and his smile widens just a fraction—just enough of what his lax body can do. he later reveals that it was all a trick to make you kiss him awake all over again, but you know him a little better than that.
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a/n ok anyway THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE LYNEY LIKERS im glad u all like reading for lyney as much as i do writing for him
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lihhelsing · 2 months
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"What do you mean you don't remember your first kiss?" Eddie asked, giving Steve that look he always got whenever he made the mistake of mentioning that piece of information about his past.
Steve shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and hoped Eddie would drop it. "I just don't remember it. Guess it wasn't memorable."
Eddie rolled his eyes, "You're telling me your first kiss wasn't memorable?"
"Yeah, man. It's whatever."
Now, both Eddie and Steve knew that was a lie. Not that Steve necessarily cared about something like a first kiss, but it bothered him that everyone seemed to have either a funny or sweet story to tell.
Like how Robin's first kiss had happened under a tree with her first girl crush, or how Nancy's first kiss only happened because the guy was kind of scared of her, or how Jonathan's first kiss only happened with Nancy.
"Do you remember yours?" Steve asked and Eddie nodded instantly.
"Of course I do."
Steve raised a brow at him and Eddie chuckled.
"It wasn't anything special, really. I kissed a guy under the bleachers and he never spoke to me again after that, the end."
Eddie was using that voice he always used whenever something bothered him.
"So it wasn't good," Steve said as he placed his hand on top of Eddie's. What was worse, not remembering your first kiss or feeling like shit about it?
"The kiss was ok. It was barely a kiss, I had no idea what to do with my hands and tongue and it was a little weird. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. But I lost a friend that day and it really sucked. It made me think kisses are more powerful than they have any right to be."
And wasn't that the truth? Steve remembered other first kisses. Like his first kiss with Nancy, that he thought was gonna be the last first kiss of his life. He was wrong about that, of course.
"I know what you mean," Steve said. His hand was still on top of Eddie's but now Eddie was smiling.
And then he was grinning.
"I have an idea," he said, looking like a maniac. And Steve knew that couldn't be a good thing.
"Should I be scared?"
Eddie laughed. "Probably. What if..."
"Yeah?"
"We kissed."
Time seemed to stop for a second and then Steve was frowning at Eddie.
"What?"
"Yeah! Think about it, Steve," Eddie said, getting up. He always got restless when his brain started to work in full power. Steve thought it was kind of cute. "You can pretend this was your first kiss, so then when people tell you you can picture it and just make up some story about it."
Steve raised a brow, "I'm pretty sure that's not how first kisses work. Plus, what's in it for you? You remember your first kiss."
Eddie shrugged, throwing himself back on the couch and landing much closer to Steve than he was before. "Sure. But then I can will my brain to understand kisses don't have to mean something. This could just be a friendly kiss between two friends. Nothing else."
For some reason that didn't seem right, but Steve nodded anyway.
"Ok."
Eddie's eyes widened. "Ok?"
"Yeah, ok. Let's kiss and see what happens," Steve said. "What?"
Eddie bit his lower lip, "I don't know. I just didn't think you were gonna say yes."
Steve laughed, throwing his head back. Classic Eddie. His mouth was too big for his own good. Steve fucking loved it.
"Well, that's ok. I'll help you," Steve said, leaning in close.
He could see Eddie's eyelashes and the way his cheeks were tinted red. Steve placed a hand on the nape of his neck and heard the exact moment Eddies's breath hitched in his chest.
"Is this ok?" he asked. Eddie might talk a big talk but Steve wasn't about to cross any boundaries. If he said he was just joking Steve would pull back and pretend it had never happened.
But Eddie didn't, so Steve stayed. Close to him but still not kissing him.
"Y-yeah," Eddie said, nodding slightly. Steve smiled and buried his hand on Eddie's hair before leaning in and pressing their lips together.
The kiss was slow and sweet and Eddie was pliant on Steve's hand. For all his attitude, Steve kind of liked to shut him up like that.
Steve was about to pull back when Eddie whined in the back of his throat and pulled him close by the waist. He had no idea where all that came from but before he noticed he was straddling Eddie's lap and kissing him like his life depended on it.
Eddie tasted like cigarettes and Mountain Dew and Steve thought that combination might be his new favorite. He was so responsive as he kissed Steve back, opening his mouth and letting Steve explore as much as he wanted and all that while holding on to his hips.
Steve liked how Eddie's hands curled around him. Like they belonged there.
When it was becoming clear neither of them was interested in stopping, Steve pulled back so he could look at Eddie's face. All he could see was the pure want in his eyes.
"That's a pretty nice first kiss," Steve said playfully and Eddie snorted, squeezing at his waist.
"Oh, sweetheart. I'm glad," Eddie smiled at him and it was the greatest thing ever. "I can't say the same for my part of the deal though."
Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"
Eddie let his head fall back into the couch and closed his eyes. Steve felt his heart hammering in his chest. Had Eddie hated the kiss?
When he opened his eyes there was an intensity behind them that made Steve want to get up and run.
"I can't pretend it doesn't mean anything, Stevie."
Oh.
Before he knew it, Steve was leaning in and stealing another kiss from Eddie's lips. This time when they parted Steve didn't bother moving too far from him.
"Then don't."
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
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synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
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— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
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the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 
and then satoru wins. 
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 
————————————————
even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 
and then you remember. 
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 
————————————————
“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do. 
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 
his breath hitches. 
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
————————————————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort. 
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
————————————————
suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow. 
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 
finally, for once, you’re enough. 
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
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hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
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Drunk Girls Do Cry - LN
Summary: Lando has to take care of his drunk girlfriend after she has a girls night out and it’s safe to say she’s very much a mess.
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During their relationship, Lando has preferred to be present with y/n while she drinks. Not because he’s controlling or possessive but because she just can’t handle her drink. She is innocently ignorant to men who try to flirt with her, thinking they’re just being friendly and nice or trying to use her to get to her friends. They’re not. On more than one occasion Lando has stepped in and made his presence clear to the men thinking they have a chance.
But she promised she’d be with the girls so Lando told her to call if she needed him then decided to have Max over and livestream for Quadrant.
He does sort of keep tabs via her instagram and snapchat stories along with sending a couple messages to make sure she’s ok just for his own peace of mind.
Then a little after 2am strikes and the boys are still on livestream, that’s when they hear a racket outside making Max look at Lando with a small laugh.
“Is that your girlfriend?” Max asks making Lando smile.
“Probably-who the fuck is that?” Lando cackles checking the ring camera and finding the poor taxi driver trying to help her. “I have to go get her. One second.”
Lando disappears leaving Max to look at the chat then directly at the camera.
“Y/n is the messiest drunk, but she is so funny. We’ll see if he brings her in here.” Max whispers before hearing y/n shouting, though he’d bet she has no idea just how loud she’s being.
“Max? Where’s Max? No-Stop, I want to see him.” Y/n exclaims with thuds and Lando’s laughter following before she appears looking tearful making Max stop his own laughter to look at her in the same way a parent looks at a toddler who is hurt. “Max! Lando is laughing at me because…I fell out the taxi and-and at the club.”
“Lando, you horrible boyfriend. Don’t be so mean.” Max scolds just playing into it before he holds out his hand. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes, I’m bleeding!”
“Oh no. Lando, can you be a good boyfriend for once and actually take care of your girlfriend?” Max questions making Lando’s jaw drop since they both know Lando is one of the most tentative boyfriends. Max looks at her grazed plans which are actually bloodier than his expected while she seems to feel the pain set in. Eyes tearing up and lip quivering as he inspects the damage. “It’s alright, it’s not that bad.”
“It really hurts.” Y/n states with a wobbly voice thick as she tries to not cry on camera since she knows they’re on live but from hearing her voice like that Lando visibly grows concerned.
“Come on, baby. I’ll clean you up.” Lando states making her turn, lip jutted before she moves over as he shoots Max a look then guiding her out the room.
Lando takes her to the bathroom sitting her on the closed toilet lid before he smiles at her.
“Did you have a good time, baby? What happened to the rest of the girls?” Lando asks softly while cleaning up the blood from her palms and noting the fact he knees need a clean up too. But when he mentions the rest of the girls she was supposed to be with, she begins hiccuping and crying. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? What is it?”
“I went to the bathroom and when I came out they were gone. Then I realised I’d lost my phone and my whole bag! So I went to security and they called me a taxi.” Y/n explains making Lando’s stomach drop. “I-I need to tell the bank to cancel my cards and block my phone.”
“Alright, we’re going to get it all sorted but it’s late so we need to wait for tomorrow ok?” Lando assures her then gently kissing her cleaned up palms. “Better?”
Y/n nods before smiling when Lando stands up to kiss her forehead.
“Better?”
“Yeah, better.” She nods then sighing softly as he moves over and picks up her toothbrush. After putting toothpaste on it he moves over and gently opens her mouth, pushing her jaw down before beginning to brush her teeth for her, much to her amusement.
“I don’t trust you to do it properly.” Lando states making her pout for a moment before helping to coordinate it for him.
He keeps brushing making sure he reaches all needed areas before he grabs a cup for her to spit in. “Ok, I need a bit of help with the skincare steps. I know how picky you are.”
“No. Not tonight, just get me a cloth and rub it off.” She mutters shaking her head while he laughs a little.
“We have to do some of it. Your sober self will be mad with both of us if we don’t.”
Y/n only grumbles before he moves over getting a cloth to really get the thick of her make up off and to just get her skin kind of wet. Then following up with cleanser since in a more sober state she has talked him through the skincare routine when he’s helped with it.
“We left Max.” Y/n murmurs as he gently rubs the cleaner around her face trying to focus on not missing a spot.
“He’ll survive. He’s probably spilling all the gossip about us.” Lando jokes while y/n breaks into a smile. “Are you feeling ok? Not feeling sick or anything?”
“I think I need food and water. We were meant to go get pizzas after we finished for the night but we didn’t.” She pouts earning a nod from him.
“I think you need some food and water too. What sounds good?”
“I just want a sandwich.”
“Ok. We’ll finish up in here and get you a sandwich.” Lando smiles earning a slightly dopey grin in return.
Lando gets her wait in bed while he finds the biggest bottle of water he has and makes her a sandwich. “Ok, water and a sandwich-“
It was definitely optimistic to expect her to be awake, but he is a little sad the sandwich will go uneaten. He instead he puts the water down and finds a bucket, just incase she is sick, and heads back to see Max.
“Hey, mate. How’s she doing?” Max asks still on live but knowing Lando has been gone for the better part of an hour now.
“Lost her phone and bag, lost the girls entirely and had to get security to call her a taxi…but I’ve cleaned her up, didn’t manage to get her to eat anything but I left some water there. No way she’s going to remember any of that in the morning but I just figured I’d come let you know that I’m going to go to sleep too. Just wanted to check, you’re staying here right?”
“Yeah, yeah. If that’s alright.” Max nods getting a thumbs up and a quick hug. Then Lando leaves, only just catching his friend’s last words. “He is very cute with her. Never seen my boy so hooked on someone, he’s obsessed with her but in the best way. I mean he just loves her.”
-
Y/n wakes up with the overwhelming ache of her hangover feeling like she fell down a flight of stairs.
“Easy.” Lando soothes making her head whip around far too fast for her eyes to cope making her clamp them closed and groan. “You were a mess-“
“Don’t. God. Please don’t.” Y/n whines shaking her head then hiding herself in the pillow while feeling Lando’s arms wrap around her. “Where’s my phone?”
“I wish I knew, you came back bloody and in tears after a taxi drive dropped you off. Told me you went to the bathroom and came out, had lost the girls, and your bag had disappeared. We’ll need to sort all that out today when you’re ready.” Lando hums while gently rubbing her back.
“Oh fuck. Fucking hell.” Y/n groans then hiccuping, clearly the hangover adding to her emotions while he kisses her temple a couple times just letting her have the moment because really it’s an easy. “I’m so stupid. The girls are probably worried sick.”
“I text a couple of them to let them know you were home and with me.” Lando assures her since he did make sure to let them know that she was safe and no wandering around without anyone else there.
“What a disaster.” Y/n sighs then looking at her hands and grimacing. “Oh christ, how much did I fall over?”
“I don’t know, but I know it was enough that you needed some serious cleaning up.” Lando chuckles then pulling her hands over and almost repeating last night’s actions as he kisses her palms. “You were caught on live pouting to Max when you came in.”
“Poor Max.”
“Ah he loves you. Although it was like watching a parent with a toddler.”
It takes another couple hours and a few litres of water, but eventually she is up getting up and showering off the night before while Lando moves out to find Max awake eating a bowl of cereal he must’ve found while Lando and y/n were still in bed.
“How’s the princess?” Max asks making Lando sighs gently sitting down as he looks at his best friend.
“She’s feeling the after effects of alcohol. Still need to call the bank and block her cards and her phone.” Lando shrugs then tilting his head in gesture of her. “She’s having a shower now.”
“Well, I just wanted to see you guys before I headed out. I’m glad she’s ok, I thought I might wake up to find a note saying you were taking her to the hospital for alcohol poisoning with the state she was in.” Max jokes though he did genuinely think there was a chance with that.
“Ah, Maxie!” Y/n gasps when she appears looking damp but cleaned up in a pair of shorts and a stolen sweater from Lando. “I’m sorry for interrupting the live.”
“No, it’s fine. I think everyone does believe that you’re using Lando to get to me though.” Max sighs while she sits down on Lando’s lap, her hand going up to his hair immediately while he smirks a little at the comment of her liking Max but she doesn’t even seem to have a second thought about it. “Too bad I’m taken.”
“Oh yeah, I’m devastated. I’ll just have to settle for Lando.” Y/n hums sarcastically before they all burst out laughing. “Oh shit, uhh…baby, can I borrow your phone please?”
“Yes. Of course you can.” Lando smiles then pulling his hand from his pocket before he hands it to her.
“Thank you. I’ll try and be quick.” Y/n mumbles before taking off to another room so she doesn’t interrupt the boys.
Lando and Max end up talking about something for a while but it’s not long later than there’s a suddenly loud bang and a curse from y/n that follows, and unbeknownst to her it makes Lando literally jump up to his feet.
“I’m fine! It’s fine, I just-I dropped your phone but it’s fine! Nothing is broken, it landed on my foot!” Y/n exclaims while Max laughs shaking his head as Lando seems to consider still going through to check she’s ok.
“What?” Lando questions finally sitting back down.
“Just I think you’ve found the girl you’re going to marry and you don’t even seem to know it.” Max shrugs innocently while Lando looks at him in shock for a moment. There was a few things he expected from his friend but the suggestion of marriage was not one of them. “Oh come on, don’t act like I’m wrong.”
“I really never even thought about it.” Lando states now not being able to think about anything else.
A few minutes later and y/n reappears sitting back down on Lando’s lap as she had before, handing Lando his phone back. Lando is silent just taking a moment to admire his girlfriend while y/n rambles about what she’s going to have to do to get everything figured out for IDs and cards along with replacing her handbag and everything else that was in it. The easiest thing to replace seems to be her phone.
Neither notice Max capturing the moment that he intends to keep for the wedding day or when they have a kid. Whichever comes first.
“But essentially everything is sorted.” Y/n explains with a soft smile finally looking at Lando before frowning. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing. I’m just glad you got everything figured out.” Lando shrugs as she grins and leans down to kiss him. “How are you feeling?”
“Uhh…better much better, but I could still use another nap just to really recover properly.” Y/n hums while shuffling down to mould herself against him. “Can I nap here?”
“Yeah, I’ve got no plans.” Lando smiles before raising his hand to Max with his middle finger up since he’s noticed they’re being recorded.
“I’ll leave the two of you to it. See you later.” Max states standing up while Lando hums and y/n grins at him, none the wiser to the video that was just captured of them. “Feel better, y/n. Don’t be mean to her, Lando.”
“I’m never mean.” Lando argues immediately as y/n sends his friend a small wave.
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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year
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sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.
and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...
SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*
Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO
Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK
Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("
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SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-
Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao
Edit Update 4/6/23:
Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol
I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-
Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first
WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3
Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???
Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming, 
but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-
Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)
It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.
I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-
It was just…wow. 🥺
You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway
She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.
After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,
Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,
“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *
…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.
…Oh no.
Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!
Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀
Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.
Then he would scribble for hours.
Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)
The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou
At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language
They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol
Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)
But even then not immediately, 
Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?
Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)
Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!
It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today
…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…
Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,
or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,
your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue
So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/
Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier
But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats
…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.
You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around
You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps
You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)
And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city
…so why not go?
It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀
You can totally handle being like the traveler too, 
You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!
So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems
(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️
And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you
So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with
Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!
...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!
When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-
He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol
He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands
“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...) 
But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol
Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?
She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,
His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-” 
Cyno stops and blinks.
Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.
You blink. 
Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.
The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.
Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner, 
As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch
But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.
Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face
The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic
Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,
“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?
Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine
“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,
“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”
Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,
and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too
With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…
Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!
With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands
You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after
You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow
He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away
You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)
The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-
and it fucking explodes.
Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.
The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-
You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)
Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno
Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow
…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,
and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/
Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-
“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."
… and you just 🙂? Cool!
And give a thumbs up👍LMAO
Bonus:
Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.
Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-
Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol
Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao
(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)
ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!
Bro has anyone else had this problem???
I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!
FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH
ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED 
And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:
*hint = Atbash
:> good luck!
Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭
Safe Travels,
💀♒
♡ the beloveds ♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist
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nrdmssgs · 10 months
Text
Dom König scenario
Masterlist
Ok, we had him soft and obedient, how about his other side? Because you don't call someone the King, if they are just tender little angels. Smut under cut.
You were sure, it was you, who actually initiated this all: after months of silent yearning, back and forth dynamics, pinning and practically burning alive with desire you ended up in his hands, your lips pressed against his in desperate attempt to put an end to this slow torture in any possible way: be it with or without him.
He doesn't answer on your kiss, doesn't flinch or frown. Just sits there with a half smile and looks down on you, not breaking the eye contact for a single moment.
Little did you know, you were never in charge. Every interaction, every smallest chat, every stolen smile, lingering gaze - it was all orchestrated.
König loved the good old hunt, thrived on the outrageous hopelessness with which his prey, without realizing it, rushed towards him. Tinkered little traps, mislead, confused, threaded illusions of one-sided hunger to drive you to absolute desperation for him.
He may have always been the quiet one, but one needs not many words, when he can get anything with the slightest brush of fingers, or an 'occasional' eye contact (and of course he squinted and tilted his head slightly to one side, not because he knew what it does to you).
König gradually let you closer and closer. Tricked you into believing that you're the one who's so fearless to fall for him: a living weapon of mass destruction. An absolute menace, turning friendly and smiling around you.
Little did you know, poor thing, little did you know... Until the trap was shut.
His hands barely touch your waist as if he was protecting you from falling off his lap, he doesn't try to pull you closer. You understand, that it is the end of you: he didn't react to your touch, kept silent, his heart was still and calm.
Blush washes over your face. "I'm sorry, König. Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. I didn't mean to... No, I actually meant, but not that. Sorry, I better shut up and leave you be. I promise, this won't happen ever again."
Your babbling amuses him. No, he doesn't want to harm your feelings or bully you, he knows exactly, what is going to happen very soon, but he can't help but indulge in those last moments of your alleged freedom.
It's when you try to pull away, you feel his hands clasp around your waist. "Who said, I don't want this to happen again?" His voice is quiet, lower than usual. Like honey from the Tyrolean forests, it covers your mind with a thick golden veil of lust.
You can't think straight, can't believe your own ears, and yet you dare not resist when he pulls you closer, letting you touch his lips again. Another lingering kiss.
But this time his smile widens. "Nochmal*," he purrs and lets out a low chuckle, when he sees your puzzled expression.
Don't worry, he will make sure you have enough opportunities to learn every single phrase, he might want you to understand and use on your own. He won't translate anything to you though - showing is always better than telling!
So he lets you kiss him once more. "Nochmal". And again. "Nochmal". And again... Till his tongue lazily rolls past your lips.
He tastes you like the most precious drink. Sip after sip, until you lay beneath him, trembling of need.
"My little sunshine, bearing so much love for me... Was it hard to dream of my touch every other night? Did it hurt, when you clenched around your thin, fragile fingers, fantasizing, how good can I make you feel in comparison?" You can't tell if he is genuinely concerned or just loves to fluster you that much.
And don't you even think to look away for a moment, to take a break and collect your thoughts - he'll grab your face while kissing you only to make his point: eyes on him until he commands otherwise.
Yes, commands come too pretty quickly in your life. But how can he possibly resist, when you're so eager to do anything, he lets you doing?
"You may moan into my mouth, meine Süße*, I don't mind some music*" While his fingers are knuckle deep in you. And moan do you, his sweet obedient angel.
He doesn't rush anything and more than happy to please you with his fingers and tongue first couple of times. This may come off as pretty humble, but he in fact just waits, till you are desperate enough to beg him to fuck you properly.
Poor thing too desperate, flustered and overwhelmed... Of course, he would fuck you absolutely incoherent if you ask nicely. He has such a soft spot for your wet eyes, he'd make you go limp, your eyes rolling back, little whimpers leaving your lips with every thrust, as he holds your hips tightly picking up the pace. Fucking your fears and anxieties away. Making you feel high.
Lots of reassurance, praise and confessions. Constantly. Even in the most extreme moments. "Who are you, little sunshine?" "Your fucktoy." "...and?" "Your treasure..." "Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen*... and?" "Love of your life?" "Liebe meines Lebens*."
*Nochmal - once again *meine Süße - my sweet one *Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen - go-o-o-od girl *Liebe meines Lebens - love of my life
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starkwlkr · 2 months
Note
I have such a random request but it came to me randomly and you said you were looking for DILF driver requests so here:
Any driver with an Actress!reader who is in a new movie with on screen kissing with her and another actor and reader and whatever driver you write this with have to explain to their kids, Maybe like ages 3-6, that their mom and dad still love each other and that mom was just working.
Sorry if this is complicated
Thanks 🫶
playing pretend | mark webber
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i went with mark so i hope that’s ok!! also i chose free guy as the movie i know it’s not new but idk any other kid friendly movies that came out recently 😭 all i watch is horror, thrillers and documentaries
You love your job, there was no lie there. You got to play different characters and dress up in either fancy dresses or a superhero suit depending on the movie you were filming. It was an easy and exciting job, but somehow your kids were clueless. They knew their dad raced cars for a living, but their mom? They had no clue.
So one day you got an opportunity to star in a family movie with Ryan Reynolds in the movie Free Guy. You play the part of ‘Molotov girl’ or Millie, the characters actual name. Sometimes you would bring your two kids, Sage and Henry. When the day of the premiere came, you decided to make it a family event so you were joined by Mark and the kids.
After walking the red carpet and taking pictures, your little family was seated in the theater to begin watching the movie. As the movie played, you looked over at your kids to watch their reaction. They laughed and pointed at the screen when you showed up saying “look! It’s mum!”
“Yeah, that’s mum.” Mark laughed.
When your kiss scene with Ryan came up, you were nervous at how your kids would react seeing as you were going to kiss someone that wasn’t their dad. You payed attention to them and watched as they gasped when you and Ryan kissed.
“Mum! Why are you kissing him?!” Sage turned to you, her face full of confusion.
“That’s not dad!” Henry turner to Mark. “That’s not you!”
“It’s like playing pretend, Henry. Mum is playing pretend.” Mark tried his best to explain. He didn’t want to disrupt anyone around them so he talked quietly. “We’ll talk after the movie, okay? We have to be quiet right now.”
The kids understood so they remained in their seats that was until another kiss scene between you and Joe Keery at the end of the movie. It was short since right when you and Joe kissed, the movie ended right away, but that didn’t stop your kids from looking at you with even more confusion.
As promised, when you, Mark and the kids were on your way back to the hotel, you explained your job.
“So your job is playing dress up?” Sage wondered.
“Yeah, that’s it. Mommy plays dress up.” You laughed along with Mark.
“But why did you kiss someone that wasn’t daddy?” Henry asked. “Do you not love daddy anymore?”
“Honey, I love daddy more than anything. That’s part of mommy’s job. Like daddy said, it’s pretend so it was like a fake kiss.” You explained.
Thankfully, Mark had pulled up to the parking lot of the hotel and parked the car. That’s when you and Mark looked back at your kids.
“We love each other and we love you, okay?” Mark made sure they understood.
“But you don’t fake kiss?” Sage asked.
“No, daddy and i real kiss, see?” You placed a kiss on Mark’s lips as your kids yelled “ew!”
“Cooties!”
“Stop! My eyes!”
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unluckilyimnot · 26 days
Note
JEALOUS SAE HEADCANONS PLEASEEEEE
Jealous hc
Characters: sae, rin, kaiser, hiori, karasu, shidou
m.list | rules
Note: hiiii how are youuu thank you for your request hihi I had other characters bc I felt like doing it for them too
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Sae Itoshi
he’s too prideful to be jealous, or he thinks so
in fact he get pissed off easily, anyone being a little to friendly with you bother him and he already doesn’t like anyone so imagine
he’s not subtile, even if he thinks he is
he’ll get closer, talk like shit to the person who’s flirting with you in his eyes
roll his eyes, click his tongue, you name it
Suddenly he wants to go home or leave for another place
You never honestly never thought you'll see him like that since he's confident and trusts you
I think he just doesn't like people and so by extension he hates people talking to you
He likes to think he's the only one who can make you smile like that, beside your friends (he's not insane)
So seeing some nobody making you smile, or even worst : laugh makes him jealous
He’s not into pda to save his life i think, that’s something he keeps behind closed doors
But oh man how he likes to kiss you when it happens, just to remind everyone that you're taken and you're proud of it
Be prepared to hear about this, he’s a nagging mom at heart
“Are you done ?” you’d ask and magically, yes he is
he will sulk yes, but close to you at least
Rin Itoshi
Bare with him, he acts tough but deep down he wants to cry
Just like his brother, he will get closer, his arm will probably stay around your shoulders after that
But he won’t be mean to them, just kinda ignore them or send death glare if they get too close
No touching, even in a friendly way, don’t be ridiculous
I think he appreciates it if you put a stop yourself
He’s more insecure than he likes to admit and it prove him that he can trust you
He’s gonna be clingy af though
When you two are finally alone, Rin won’t say a world but glue himself to you
He’ll need reassurance for sure :( this boy has abandon issues
Michael Kaiser
He’s an asshole (lovingly)
He let people flirt with you if it helps their ego and mock them for how long you can think, it’s almost an inside joke for him
The irony is that he’s really possessive, so it’s all fun and game until it’s not some loser that try to hit on you
Not that he feels threaten, please
But he still don’t wanna play with them and he doesn’t want you nearby
If you just happen to be friendly with someone then he’s bothered
What do you mean by being this happy to see someone else ?
He’ll ask a million questions and whine about it before brush it off as if he doesn’t care
It takes a lot to deal with him, his reaction depend on his phase
If he feels low then he’ll be a nightmare, you had to be sorry for someone hitting on you and tell him he’s your one and only
If he’s his confident self, it’s almost like he doesn’t care and let it happen
Being with him is a roller coaster
Tabito Karasu
Best man if is speak
He’s mature and he knows he’s projecting his own insecurity when he’s jealous, so he doesn’t make a big deal about it
He’s not gonna ruin the moment so he just keep his cool and act normally
Deep down you can feel there’s some awkwardness so you try to ask him silently, with your eyes or smile, if he’s ok
He loves you so much he feels dumb to even be jealous the second you do that honestly
Expect small pda like holding hands above your knees, playing with your fingers or the em of your shirt/ skirt
He’ll talk to you about it on your way back home or when you two are comfortable at yours or his place
He knows it’s normal to feel like this sometimes but it’s normal to reach for comfort right ? he’s not shy to ask
Nothings best than you playing with his hair, laying on your chest or thighs
Ryusei Shidou
He’s unhinged he scares me
I think he’s the most jealous among them
You’re his, that’s it so, he may seem lay back (and weird) but he’s cautious with every person coming near you
I hc him with abandon issues as well (give us his back story please and make it worth it compare to some character) so he’s always scared of you leaving
It’s still more in a possessive than an insecure way, he just can’t take it if he considered that someone is too close to you
He gets touchy oh my, he’s all over you, can’t keep his hands to himself just to let them know that you’re taken
He’ll talk to them straight in the eyes while his hand run up and down your thighs, he’s not ashamed of anything
You have to put a stop to it but always expected something more while coming home
Yo Hiori
He’s cute and I don’t think people take him seriously enough
You’re amazing and beautiful and fun to talk to, people already asked you why him
He kinda has war flashback ngl
Obviously he also think that he’s not enough and probably get jealous/sad quickly if someone get close to you and is really friendly
He’s scared to take things into hand I think, so he’ll just ask for you two to leave
He won’t tell you how he feels, he’s sure it’s not important enough to bring it up but you always ask him anyway
You’re so sorry that it happens at all honestly, you never want him to feel like this
He never ask for it but you’re clingy and want to do nothing with him, spending some quality time together, watching him play game while you stay on your phone or even sitting in his laps
It always make him feel better and remind him that you won’t leave him so soon
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I hope you liked it ♡
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mountainsandmayhem · 28 days
Text
Shhh...Just A Little Bit More
Part Three (Spicy Version)
DBF!Joel x Female!Reader - 18+
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Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (Soft Version)
Summary: Joel Miller caught you working where you shouldn't be after you promised to quit. Now he's taking matters into his own hands. Word Count 5.7k
CW: DBF!, Dom!, SoftDom!, use of nicknames (baby, sweet pea, baby girl etc.), Sub/Dom, DD/LG, use of toys and a riding crop. no use of y/n. no description of reader except for piercings. Praise, degradation. After care.
AN: THANK YOU for all your love on parts 1 and 2. This is the spicy version of the third part. I'd love to hear which part you liked best!
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“Hey, buddy. It’s Joel.”
“Joel?” You can hear your dad’s muffled and panicked voice through the receiver. “Where’s my daughter? Why do you have her phone? It’s 5 am!” 
“Remember that time Sarah ran away to your house and you told me that one day I might be doing the same for you?” 
Your dad is silent for a while, a distorted higher pitched voice filters through before you hear your dad again, “It’s alright honey. She’s with Joel.” He lets out a deep sigh before adding, “I thought we skipped the rebellious phase with her.”
“She’s a good girl. I think she just needs some time to cool off.” Joel says, his voice is friendly and light.
You squeeze your thighs together and nuzzle deeper into Joel’s throat. You know what you need, and it isn’t to cool off. He and your dad have been friends since the day he moved in down the street. You were seven and Sarah was eleven, you thought she was the coolest person on the planet. Wonder what she’d think of you now, cuddled up against her dad after he just edged the fuck out of you after spanking you in an alleyway. You’re lost in your thoughts as Joel talks with your parents for a while.
A sane person would stop being so turned on right now. Fuck, I need Joel. So badly. Maybe I should rile him up some more. 
“I’ll come by this afternoon,” Joel hugs you tighter, bringing you back to the conversation. “Ya, if she wants to, I’ll bring her. She’s ok, just never seen her more - frustrated.” 
You squeeze his side, knowing he’s smirking about how frustrated and needy you truly are right now. He hangs up the phone and brings his lips to yours, kissing you harder this time. You moan into his mouth, hands roaming up his body to tangle in his hair. 
Holy shit, Joel Miller is kissing me. 
As you run your nails along his scalp he lets out a pleasurable sounding gasp and a small shiver racks his body. Oh, he likes that, he likes that very much. 
Got ya, you think to yourself. 
He pulls away to see you smiling at him. “This is why I usually tie naughty girls down,” his voice is completely different from how it was just moments ago; deeper and more commanding. It reverberates through you - right to your pussy. “Because they think they’ve found spots that will get them what they want. Let’s go home now, darlin’.” 
The front door hasn’t even closed before Joel is hoisting you over his shoulder roughly, kicking the door closed as you squeal, his calloused hands gripping the back of your thighs as your stomach rests across his broad shoulder. 
Fuck his ass looks good from this angle. 
“You know I’m not done punishing you yet, right?” He growls, toeing off his boots and taking you to the basement. 
When Sarah was old enough, she’d occasionally babysit you. You remember there being a locked room in the basement, she said she didn’t know what was in there, but you were obsessed with finding out. You asked Joel mercilessly what he was hiding back there and he never responded in more than a grunt or a sarcastic comment like “that’s where I lock up kids who don’t shut up.” 
Joel grabs a key off the holder at the bottom of the stairs and heads straight for that mysterious locked door. The key scrapes against the door knob, you crane your neck to see as he flicks on the light. 
Holy. Fucking. Shitballs. Joel Miller has a sex room. 
“Watch your mouth,” he grumbles as he drops you onto the large metal framed bed. 
Did I say that out loud? 
He stalks away from you towards a large black cabinet, rolling the sleeves of his button up flannel to his elbows. It’s almost concerning how much that simple action turns you on. Maybe you should go back to church, your mom would be so proud. 
You’re intrigued to look around, curious as to what else is around you in this large room, but everything about Joel’s presence draws you in. Freezes you in time. You belong to him, or so he implied when he said he was your Dom now. 
He slides the door of the large black cabinet open just enough to reach in. Your curiosity is bubbling to the surface and just as you’re about to ask he looks at you darkly. 
“Did you come on the drive home?”
Every bump on the drive home had you twitching. You tried your hardest not to gasp and moan but the combination of the gravel road, your insane state of heightened arousal, and the lack of underwear in your stiff denim shorts were all working against you. 
“No, Joel.” Your eyes dance around his hands, trying to see what he took out of the cabinet. 
His jaw flexes, “It’s Mr Miller. Not Joel.” His chin juts towards the corner of the room across from him as he says, “go kneel in that corner. Face the wall and don’t move.” 
You practically leap off the bed and scramble to the corner as Joel mumbles, “So fuckin’ eager,” under his breath. 
On your way to the corner you see all sorts of ropes, chains, paddles and whips hanging from the walls. There's a large wooden x with cuffs leaning against another wall and beside the corner he’s told you to go to there’s a strange looking bench, almost like a gymnastics horse, that also has cuffs. You might be way in over your head here. 
You kneel down in the corner, the carpet is soft and luxurious under your knees as you rest your bum down onto your heels. 
“No, on your knees. Hands above your head on the wall.” Joel barks, making you jump and your pussy flutter. Joel opens and closes some more doors, you hear things being moved around and just as your hands start to go numb above you, you feel his heat at your back. 
“I’m going to finish your punishment now little one,” he rasps. “Have you ever been a sub before?” 
“N-no. Mr Miller. I’m sorry,” you voice trembles. Nervous and excited energy are battling inside you for first place. 
“Don’t be sorry, babygirl. What do you say if you want me to stop?” His strong hands grip your hair, gathering it up in a low ponytail before tying a long ribbon around it. 
“Umm..” you rack your brain. Before his sadistic little countdown he told you to say something if you wanted to stop.
“Cowboy,” you finally say, slightly uncertain until he hums a sultry ‘that’s right’ behind you, his hands grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it up and over your head. 
The cool basement air hits your exposed skin and you find yourself arching your back towards Joel’s warm body. Your nipples turn to stiff peaks at the combination of the temperature shift and the anticipation of what’s coming next. 
Your hands fall back to your sides as your shirt glides past your fingertips. Without missing a beat, Joel hits right below your shoulder blade gently with a riding crop. The sound of the soft black leather end against your skin is louder than the pain, but it still burns slightly as you gasp and your arms fly back up to the wall.
“Don’t be stupid, baby. The more you don’t listen, the more I will hurt you. And you are already here because you didn’t listen.” He trails the riding crop around the pink mark forming on your back. “Stand up, but keep your hands above you.” 
You plant one white slip-on van on the carpet and drag the toe of the other as you stand, hands sliding up the red satin wallpaper that lines the room. The soft leather of the crop traces down the black strap of your lace bra, across the back band and then up the other strap. 
“Use one hand and undo the clasp, sweet pea.” You drop your right hand and bring it behind your back. Popping the metal clasp open with a shaky thumb and forefinger. Before you can put your hand back, Joel grabs your wrist and places the crop in your fist before raising it back up above you. His rough fingers graze your back, goosebumps line your skin as your head falls forward and you hum out in pleasure. 
His hands glide around to the front of your body and trail up, pushing under the cups of your bra to squeeze your tits. He stops dead as they land heavy in his palms. 
“Holy fuck, drop the crop and take this bra off right now. Let me see them,” his voice is thick with arousal at what he’s found. 
You do as he says, the crop hitting the soft carpet with a thud. You spin and let your bra fall from your arms. Showing him the golden barbells, and the thin golden hearts that surround each nipple. 
Joel practically snarls as he dives in to kiss you, his tongue parting your lips and making room for him to devour you. “Are those healed?” He asks through the kiss. 
“They’re sort of new,” you say into his mouth. “Six weeks ago.” 
“Fuuuuck, you’re gonna kill me,” his hands hurry to the buttons on your shorts. He rips them down your legs, kneeling in front of you to slide off your shoes. His face is now level with your achy cunt. It’s been throbbing since he spanked you and now he’s so very close. 
He stops to stare at it, then gently uses his thumbs to pull your soaked lips again. He clicks his tongue, “too bad you didn’t listen. She looks swollen and sooo wet,” his thumb barely grazes the wet flesh before he looks up at you as he sucks off the juices. “Mmm - and sweet. But bad girls don’t get rewards.” He lays a quick slap across your clit and you nearly collapse at the sensation. 
The pain. 
The heat. 
The pleasure. 
He smirks down at you as he stands. You crane your neck to look at him, gasping for breath as the pleasure ebbs between your legs. 
“You like pain, don’t you?” He asks. 
A sly closed lip smile crosses your face as you nod quietly. You do like pain, but you’ve never had someone as experienced as Joel before. He spanked you harder than you ever have been before, pushing and testing your limits. While you enjoyed it, and can’t fucking wait to do it again, you aren’t sure if you can handle all these whips, crops, canes and ropes. 
Cowboy. Just say cowboy. 
He steps away, leaving you completely bare in the corner. He stops at the foot of the bed, the things he’s pulled out of the cabinet rest flat on top of the sheets but you can’t make out what’s there. He slides his flannel off and drops it to the floor. You swallow hard at the way his tight shirt hugs his body, you swear you can see every muscle that lines his chest and abdomen through it. He doesn’t leave you guessing for long, one hand reaching behind himself, grabbing his shirt by the nape of the neck before peeling it from his hard body. You squeeze your thighs at the sight of him. 
Joel Miller: Greek God. 
He leans against the tall post at the foot of the bed, crossing his thick arms over his chest. His biceps bulge and suddenly you find it hard to breathe. He is fucking beautiful. 
“Crawl to me, and bring the crop,” his voice is rough as he commands you. 
You get onto your hands and knees and look over at the crop and then back towards Joel, looking up through your lashes. “Think about it for a second,” he says. 
You bend down and pick the crop up with your teeth. “There’s my smart girl,” he praises as you crawl. You’re so wet that your thighs slide effortlessly against one another. You stop in front of him and he reaches down to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with an immense sense of pride, you’d do anything to have him look at you like that and when he throws in a warm ‘good girl’ you’re done for. His. His brat. His good girl. His submissive. Just his. 
He takes the crop from your teeth and then walks behind you. “Arch your back,” he presses the leather end into your lower back, guiding you, teasing you, showing you what he wants and how he wants it. 
“Spread your legs, babygirl,” he whispers, again gently pressing the crop to your inner thighs as you spread for him before he slowly drags the soft leather from your clit to your backside. You whimper at the much needed attention. “Good girl. See how much better it is when you listen.” 
You relax your head, letting it fall as you moan. Close. So very close. The leather meets your chin next. “Eyes up, I need you to stay like this for me. Ok?” 
“Yes Mr Miller,” you gasp, holding your head high, looking straight ahead at the metal bed frame that’s lined with hooks and rings. “Anything for you.” 
The riding crop trails down your neck and spine as he walks back behind you. “That right, darlin’?” He says, almost afraid to admit how much those three little words have affected him. You. Offering him anything. 
You let out an agreeable moan before he strikes you twice, each snap of the crop hitting the exactly same spot. 
Joel Miller: Greek God and Accurate Riding Crop Sniper.  
Ok, you’ll have to work on the name. 
The sting takes a bit longer to turn into that pleasurable tingly heat that you love than when he spanked you. Keeping your back arched and head up is already proving to be a challenge, and then he traces your cunt and asshole again with the leather and you’re practically shaking. Closer. Much closer. 
He does it again. Striking one cheek, then the other, quickly followed by a quick slap to the back of your thigh. You cry out in pain, until the leather slides over your soaked clit and the sounds turn downright pornographic. 
“Why am I punishing you?” He demands, tapping your clit lightly and rapidly. 
“I - mmmm - I didn’t q-quit,” you moan. 
“Wrong,” he hits you again. Five quick, sharp snaps, alternating between ass cheeks. Then he slides up and down your folds again. 
Pain
Pleasure.
Sparkling burning heat. 
“M’gonna come,” you mumble and Joel pulls away. You cry out in protest as he lowers himself to the floor, a large warm hand gently rubbing your sore cheek. 
“You come when I say,” his lips land on every spot he’s hit you, but not the spot you need him the most. “Now why am I punishing you?” 
Your mind is mush, overrun by the overwhelming need to orgasm. You didn’t quit. He wants you to and you didn’t. That’s why he’s hitting you. 
“I don’t know Mr Miller,” you whine. His hand trails up the soft skin of your inner thigh, your legs tremble under his touch and you fight against your shaking arms to keep your body how he wants it. 
“No?” He says with a smirk. “On your elbows, forehead on the floor.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say as you get into his new required position. 
“You should be,” he stands and walks towards the bed. Leaving your ass up and on display. “You lied and snuck out, then after your spanking tonight you stayed at work for another two hours. You also used my marks to make money. You, my sweet girl, are a brat.” He’s practically growling by the time he finishes, settling himself behind you. “That’s why I’m punishing you.” 
Deep down Joel knows he should stop. Not for the obvious reasons: best friend's daughter, twenty years younger, four years younger than his own daughter. But because he hasn’t had a real conversation with you yet about your hard and soft limits. Didn’t even ask if you wanted to be his sub. But your smooth little ass is up in the air, pussy glistening in the dim light of his sex room and nothing but your pleasure matters anymore. 
You swallow hard, “I’m sorry for being a brat, Mr Miller.” 
“I don’t think you are,” he says and you hear the distinct sound of a cap of lube opening behind you. “I think that you have enjoyed yourself so much that you’re going to be back on that corner waiting for an Uber to take you to work tonight. You want me to come after you. Because you are a little slut with a very greedy pussy.” 
Something cool presses against your soaked entrance and you cry out as he continues, “so I’ll tell you what. You can go to work tonight, but you’ll have to do it my way,” slowly that cool something slides inside of you, filling you slightly but it’s not enough. “Fuck, practically sucked it in, babygirl.” 
You can feel it, a hard ball that’s pushing right against your g spot, a slender piece staying outside your body for easy removal. “That is going to stay in until I take it out. It vibrates, and if you don’t behave…I will turn it on.” 
His large, rough hands grip you by the hips and pull you back so your ass is flush against his body, his cock stiff as nails under his jeans. “It’s time to get some sleep, sweetheart. Get in the bed, please.” 
“But…” you pout into the plush carpet. “Please, Mr Miller.” 
“What did I say? Bad girls don’t get rewarded. Come on,” he taps your hip. “Bed.” 
You stand up on shaky legs, thankful that the best is only two steps ahead of you. But the toy inside of you has you feeling like a powder keg on the edge of exploding. Joel pulls the covers back and climbs in with you, pulling you in to rest your head on his chest. His arm drapes around your body, the other resting behind his head. 
“How are you feeling after tonight?” He whispers, using an app on his phone to turn the lights off. 
“Horny,” you whisper, burying yourself deeper into his neck. 
“I know. But you know I can’t make you come, right? I can’t reward you for this behaviour.” His lips fall to your hairline, two light lingering kisses melting you further into him. 
“What can I do, Mr Miller?” The moment the last syllable of his name leaves your lips the vibrator comes to life inside of you. “Oh god - thank you. Thank you.” Your body twitches against his, your leg coming to drape across him as you subconsciously hump and grind into his hip. 
“That feel good, baby?” He asks, holding you tighter against his strong body. 
“Yes. Yes. Hnnnng, yes.” You grind harder, your arousal coating his hip and leg, your clit sliding along him with ease now. “Joel, please.” 
Shit. He should punish you for calling him Joel but you’re so goddamn beautiful as you start to fall apart and he can’t hold back any longer. He’s let other subs go days without an orgasm, he’s gotten off to them begging and crying for relief. But you. You sound so damn sweet to his ears and he can’t stand to see you like this anymore. 
He has you flipped onto your back, trapped under his weight before you can even register what’s happening. He’s kissing you deeply, tongue taking what it wants as your legs kick and shake under him. 
“Please!” You cry between kisses. 
His thick fingers sliding between your puffy folds before grabbing the end of the vibrator, you scream out as he pulls the toy from you. 
“Shhh…just a little bit more. I’m going to make it better now,” he says gently, kissing down your neck, swirling his tongue around each nipple piercing. 
“Please. Please. Pleeeaase, Mr Miller. Please. It hurts. I need it, please.” You’re a mumbling mess and the words leaving your lips are practically incomprehensible. 
“I know. Relax baby. Breathe.” He says between kisses down your sternum, his tongue tracing your curves. When he finally settles in between your thighs he swallows hard, he wants to dive right in, make you drench his face as you come. “Look at me, darlin’.” 
His warm breath hits your pussy and you fight your hips from bucking up to his face as prop yourself up on an elbow and try to focus your eyesight on him. You didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on that you practically had tequila vision. 
His voice is serious yet calm as he says, “I’m going to make you come using my fingers and my tongue. Is that ok?” 
You nod your head and a faint ‘yes’, leaves your lips. He doesn’t want to ask permission, and next time he won’t. But right now he needs to know you’re ok with this. 
“Can I lick and touch both the outside and inside of this beautiful, weeping, pussy?” 
It starts to hit you that Joel Miller would never do something you didn’t want and that sets your soul on fire. He cares. About you. Only you. Wants to do things for you. You are not a burden here. 
“Yes, Mr Miller. Please. Touch me.” The room suddenly feels twenty degrees hotter, you can feel sweat beading on your skin. 
“That’s my girl,” he says, sliding his ring and middle finger around your desperate entrance. You cry out, dropping your body to the bed. 
Pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure. 
“No no baby girl, eyes on me.” 
You somehow muster the strength to raise yourself onto shaky arms. His two strong fingers slide deep into your heat with minimal resistance and you immediately start gasping. 
Pleasure. Life altering, heart stopping pleasure. 
“Fuuuuck. Baby. So tight. Have you ever squirted before?” His cheeks are flushed with need. He might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 
Your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breaths. You shake your head and moan out a ‘no’. 
He smiles down at your dripping cunt, “I can feel it. Gotta relax for me. Just breathe and let it happen.” 
Nerves flutter in your stomach and then he curls his fingers forward, putting so much pressure on a soft spongy spot that you didn’t know existed until today. On instinct, your knees try to close but his wide frame keeps you open. You yell his name to the ceiling, as all the air whooshes from your lungs. 
“Breathe baby,” he says as he curls his fingers once, twice, three more times. You can hear how wet you are and the pressure becomes unbearable. Stars start to blur your vision, the walls of your pussy squeeze tightly around his fingers and then it’s just a blur. A blur of all consuming pleasure and you turn into a boneless, mumbling mess. 
“That’s it. That’s my girl. Come for me. Soak me. Good girl,” Joel’s free hand pressed down on your mound as a wet heat leaks all over you. “Good fuckin’ girl. Let go for me.” 
You’re not sure if you’re screaming or not, all you hear and feel is Joel. Everything is Joel. Strong hands, deep gravel voice, warm vanilla smell. He’s everywhere and you never want it to stop. 
“Keep going. That’s it. You look so beautiful,” he says, licking a long stripe up your fluttering pussy, drinking and slurping up your juices. “Oooh yeah - gooood giiirrll”
Almost immediately after your orgasm crests it becomes too much. You’re so overstimulated that it hurts and your moans of pleasure become cries of pain. You forget your name, where you are, you even forget your safe word. But Joel knows, he always knows. 
He stops pumping his fingers and says your name, “look at me sweet pea.”
You blink slowly, you’re wrecked, barely able to keep your eyelids open, almost convinced they’ve been replaced with steel. You’re sucking in air, did you not breathe that entire time? 
“Breathe baby, you’re ok.” He says, stilling his fingers until you’re ready. 
“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I know I called you Joel. I won’t do it again.” 
So fucking cute. “It’s ok, darlin’ girl. I want you to let loose when you come.” He places a few light kisses along your thighs. The sheets and his bare chest are soaked. “I’m gonna pull my fingers out.” 
You fall back to the bed and fist the sheets to ground yourself as he slides his fingers out. “You did such a good job,” he praises as you whimper at the loss of his fingers inside of you. 
He crawls up your body, placing his strong forearms beside your head, moving any hair that has escaped the ribbon from your face. “I’m so proud of you, babygirl.”
“Fuck me,” you mumble. 
He grins down at you. “That’s my little slut,” he says darkly, ripping his jeans and underwear off, kissing you hard and rough - just how you like it. His hard cock lands heavy on your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “You sure about this?” He says cockily. 
“Fuck me, Mr Miller. Please. I need your -,” he slams deep inside you, hips flush against yours. He’s so deep you swear you can feel it behind your navel. The girth of him giving you a painful but pleasurable stretch, “oh god. I’m gonna come again.” 
“Squeeze me, baby. Yell out. Show me what I do to you,” he hooks your knees in his elbows to get deeper. Hips grinding and slamming into yours. “So goddamn good. So tight. Give it to me, little one.” 
The heat in your belly snaps as you come apart for him again. Every muscle goes limp and pliant as he folds you in half, knees practically behind your head like some sort of tantric pretzel. The walls of your pussy clamp down on his dick as cry out in pained moans. Before your orgasm has even tapered off he’s slipping out of you and flipping you around. 
“Hands and knees, like you were on the floor.” He practically yells it at you, like a drill sergeant. 
You don’t have the cognitive ability to even know what your arms or legs are, lying on your belly down in the puddle you created earlier. 
“Can’t,” you moan before the sharp snap of the riding crop hits your ass. Adrenaline spikes as you start to find your arms, bringing them beside you to push up. Another three quick strikes hit your backside. “Fuck. Stop, Joel. Please.” 
He strikes you again. You most definitely do not want him to stop and you already know that he loves when you beg. “It huuuurts,” you gasp as you bring yourself up to your knees. Your all wobbly limbs, like a newborn giraffe, and panting breaths as he hits six quick strikes down your thigh. Crying out with each one, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good. Please just stop.” 
“You should see how your pussy clenches with each hit, my little masochist,” he praises, moving to punish the other thigh in the same way he did the other one. “You could come from this, couldn’t you?”
“No. It hurts. I’m sorry, daddy.” 
Joel stops. The word daddy suspended in the air between you. Fuck, it just slipped out. You’ve never said it to a man before and now you wish you could just crawl into a little hole and die alone. 
“Oh babygirl,” he says proudly, coming up behind you and rubbing his dick up and down your wet pussy. “Do you like that? Calling me daddy?” 
“It slipped out. I’m sorry Mr Miller,” you desperately want to bury your face in the pillows but you keep your head held high, just like he wants you too. 
“Tell daddy to fuck you,” he says, his hand grabbing the base of your tied back hair. 
“F-fuck me, daddy,” you say in the sweetest and most innocent sounding voice you can muster.
With one snap of his hips he’s fully inside of you, his hand pulls at your hair. You scalp tingling and burning, only adding to the pleasure building again in between your legs. 
“You like it rough. Don’t you, little one?” You moan out in agreement, “like it when daddy fucks you this deep. Like it when daddy is in your belly. Don’t you?” 
“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” It’s like you’re a broken record, unable to come up with anything except moans, cries and ‘oh god’s’. 
Joel’s hand moves from your hair to between your shoulder blades and pushes down. A silent command for you to rest your chest on the bed. You do as he says, “good fuckin girl. You want me to fuck you while I use the crop? Is that what you want my little pain slut?” 
“Yes please, Mr Miller,” you gasp, hands fisting the sheets, muscles clenching as you prepare for what’s about to happen. 
The pace at which he’s fucking you continues. He’s fast and rough, his balls slapping against your pussy with each trust. The crop hits the bottom of one of your feet first, then just to the right of your left shoulder blade. 
“Not gonna stop until you use that safeword. Brats don’t get rewards,” He fucks up into you a few more times as he swats at the front of your thigh. 
Blinding heat and pleasure start to course through you as you come again. “My little masochist,” he says again, pulling back to slap at your ass as you come on his cock. Tears blur your vision, you want to stop but you want to make him proud. You feel his dick getting harder, twitching slightly. 
Just a few more minutes, you think to yourself. Until he strikes you harder than all the other times. The sound of leather on your skin fills your ears and you pull away from him, “COWBOY!!” 
You collapse into the sheets as Joel turns away, unable to stop his orgasm and wanting to be respectful of your need to stop. He cums into the sheets with his hand, biting back your name from leaving his lips. 
He turns to find you facedown, red and purple marks already forming. “Baby,” he whispers, his hand coming to caress your lower back. You flinch under his touch. 
Fuck, I went to hard. 
“Shhh, relax. It’s over now. Let me take care of you.” He sees you visibly melt into the mattress, and why wouldn’t you. His voice is soft and gentle as his fingers trail up and down your spine. “I’m so proud of you for using your safeword. Can you roll over for me?” 
You do as he says, using any last ounce of energy to roll over. He shuffles himself to sit on the edge of the bed, lifting your upper body to help you prop up in some pillows, your eyelids are impossibly heavy. He reaches into the small mini fridge that’s disguised as a bedside table and takes out a bottle of water. 
“I need you to drink this, honey. Then I will put some coconut oil on those marks. Ok?” 
You open your eyes as he cracks the water. He looks wrecked. Beads of sweat line his hairline, curls sticking to his forehead, but fuck is he beautiful. 
Joel Miller. Sex God. 
“How are you feeling?” He asks as he slides his boxers back up his leg, his still half hard cock pressing against the fabric. 
You’re suddenly unable to stop from giggling. You feel giddy and drunk as you down the water and say, “I feel fucking amazing!” 
Joel shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “Good,” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. He pulls makeup wipe out from the bedside drawer and wipes the mascara that’s run down your cheeks. Then he finds himself doing something he’s never done with his other subs. He grabs the coconut oil and reaches a hand out to help you off the bed. 
“Let’s go get some sleep,” he says. Steading you and leading you up the stairs to his room. This is dangerous territory, but he needs to wake up with you. Cherish you. Care for you. Other subs always slept down here. Never in his room and rarely with him. But certainly never ever in his room. 
You follow with shaky legs and nearly collapse onto his bed when you get there. 
“Can we do that again?” You ask as he rubs oil on your tender backside. 
“Fuck yes. But before we do that,” he taps your side and you roll over so he can oil your thigh. “You need to fill out some paperwork.” 
You groan and he lets out a deep laugh. “I promise it’s fun paperwork. Hard and soft limits. Things you want to try.” 
He looks up at you with adoration, mirroring the looks you’re giving him. He nods towards your pierced nipples, “I like those. Very sexy. As soon as they’re healed we are gonna have some fun.” 
You blush, “thanks. You’re - umm, you’re actually the first person to see them.” 
“That right?” He says proudly, lying down beside you and pulling you into his chest. 
“I have an appointment at the piercer next week. Any requests?” You say teasingly as you nuzzle into his chest. Your appointment is to get a second hole in each ear lobe, but may as well have a little fun.
“Hmmm,” he hums, lips grazing your hairline with little kisses. “Belly button.” 
“Oh, I was thinking of doing my clit.” You glance up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Fuck me, baby. You tryin’ to kill this old man? I’m gonna have to leave the goddamn continent while that heals.” He pulls you in tighter, pulling the blanket up around both of you. “Get some rest now, we have a big afternoon.”
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k2ntoss · 2 months
Note
“Is this ok?” As they stare up at you from in between your legs. (Consent is so fucking hot and important)
“Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.”
“Spread your legs baby, that’s it… Wider.”
This with Jaybird plsss
well, here we are with more smutty posts for my people <3 thanks for your request, dear anon !! and yeah, get used to long writing bc i can't put my ideas in short stuff :3 sooooo consent king jaybird here!
"is this okay?" as they stare up at you from in between your legs + "please mark me, i want everyone to know i'm yours" + "spread your legs baby, that's it... wider"
it's been a year since jason asked you out for the first time and he's always been sweet with you, it took him a little to open up to you but there wasn't a time where he would actually done something bad to you. always giving you your space and thinking on your comfort, going at your pace with anything about your relationship. it's been a year full of soft kisses, cute dates and sweet cuddling until this night.
"are you really sure you want this, sweetheart?" jason asks you, he's sitting by your side in the couch, his arm drapped around your shoulder but he looks at you with his eyes slightly widened as you nod with a small smile, he doesn't know how your conversation went from your last movie night to talking about the things you liked to do in bed.
"i mean, i want it but it's okay if you don't, jay." you'd say with a cute smile, jason has been so respectful of your boundaries you wanted to do the same for him and you knew that for him all kinds of physical touch meant absolute trust on your partner and even more when it was something so intimate as making love.
"i want it too, but just promise me you'll tell me if it gets too much or if you feel uncomfortable, okay?" the way jason looks into your eyes and sticks his pinkie out for you to promise him that just melts your heart. when you hook your finger with his he leans in, taking your lips in a slow and sweet kiss, his hand running slowly to get to your waist before pulling you close.
at that point words die on your mouth, his lips devouring yours as the kiss grows deeper and his tongue trails your bottom lip, a soft sigh leaving your longs when jason sits you on his lap for a brief moment before he stands up with you into his arms to walk to the room you share with him. jason holds you as if you could break at the smallest movement so he lays you carefully on the bed, your back pressed softly against the matress when he breaks the kiss.
his forehead is pressed against yours as his hands slide under your shirt, the way your arms wrap around his shoulders while showering his face in sweet kisses makes him feel more sure of what he's doing and that's how it goes at first; jason takes off your clothes swiftly and without rushing it, his lips glued to your neck and collarbone as he leaves sweet pecks on your skin without biting or sucking on your skin even if he's dying to, because jason loves a little ownership and you notice it whenever he calls you his girl or when he pulls you by the waist when someone is being too friendly with you.
"please mark me," your voice comes out soft but a little breathless when he kisses his way between your breasts as he takes off your bra and he stops to look at you with a raised eyebrow "i want everyone to know i'm yours." and that's all jason needs because the conviction in your eyes tells him you want it.
"you want everyone to know you're mine, princess? want everyone to know how good i make you feel?" he asks in a low voice, a grunt escapes his lips when he first sinks his teeth on your neck and the moan you let out sounds just heavenly for him, they keep comming out when his hands travel from your back to your tits, groping and squeezing them as he sucks a few hickeys on the side of your throat, fingers rolling your nipples before he pinches them and smirks against your skin.
"yes, jay please" you nod and it just gets better when he kisses a trail down to your stomach, fingers toying with the edge of your panties before pulling them down at a torturing pace just to feel your goosebumps and he seems so playful for someone that was sweetly kissing your neck a few minutes ago it just works to turn you on even more.
his lips travel to your hips, kissing your side once he gets rid of your underwear as his hands pull your legs up and spreads them just to make room for his body between them but before he moves he needs to make you feel comfortable, he thinks as he sees your cheeks flushed and notices how you find it hard to look at him.
jason is a big guy so he knows he won't just fit really comfortably between your legs without having you to be completely spread for him. he kisses your knee lovingly, trying to ease your shyness a bit before he coos you.
"spread your legs baby," he speaks softly, a few more kisses on your calf as he soothingly caresses your thigh and it makes you feel less nervous as you spread your legs a bit more "that's it... wider" he guides you and once he sees your legs spread open for him he kisses his way down your thighs, kissing them both as he hears your moans and feels your heat growing.
suddenly the sight is just too good to miss it and the low moan that comes out of his lungs when he first kisses your cunt makes your breath catch. jason looks way too good with his eyes closed as he hums in satisfaction when he licks between your folds, arousal pooling on his tongue as your hand dives into his black hair, back arching and the high pitched moan that you let out when he sucks on your clit makes him look up at you.
"is this okay?" jason asks in a raspy voice, his eyes look glazed over but they still hold the same care and love he's shown since the very first day for you and his actions only make you feel more turned on as if he wasn't already all perfect he had to hit you with the careful prince behavior, always seeking for your comfort and pleasure before his own.
you nod, eyes fixed on his green ones and the smile he gifts you adds to all the feelings that swirl into your body because as soon as he goes back to your pussy you can only moan his name, fingers gently tugging his hair "god jason," you pull his hair a bit harder when his teeth graze your nub and he growls in a way that sends shivers down your spine "keep going, please."
and he does, jason licks and sucks like he was starving and before you get to call his name again he has two fingers teasing your entrace. he pulls away for a bit, one arm holding your hips still as he looks up at you "you just taste so good, love... and you sound so needy" he starts, there's a need on him to call you names because you told him you liked it but he doesn't want to push his luck already.
"mhm how do i sound?" you ask him, you know him too well to know he's holding back and the hunger on his gaze tells you you're damn right. he pushes his fingers into you, curling them as soon as your wet, warm walls embrace his digits and he finds that puffy spot that makes you moan loudly.
"like a pretty needy slut" he growls before biting a red mark on your thigh, moving his fingers in slow and deep strokes that grow a bit faster when he goes back to suck and flick his tongue on your sensitive clit, playing with you as much as you allow him because he loves the way you give in to him, how much you trust him to give you so much pleasure and how much you trust him to let you find his own pleasure on your body.
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luveline · 10 months
Note
Miguel and Spider-girl not being official yet, but spending a lot of time at his place. He notices another Spider-man being very friendly and flirty with you, but you’re so sweet, you don’t even notice. He gets grumpy and one of the girls points it out, but it makes your heart swell, assuring him later that you’re his, even if he isn’t ready to make that official step yet.
hope this is OK!!
You tend to wake up before Miguel, and you slink out of his bed and his room without saying goodbye for the day if you have things to do. You have a training course hosted by Lady Spider at lunch time, so the chances of Miguel seeing you for hours on either side are slim.
Slim, but not zero. 
It's just after lunch when Miguel's taking the elevator down to Spider-Woman's laboratory when he sees you out on the floor. There are variants of you around, you're nowhere near as common as Peter Parkers or Gwen Staceys, but sometimes he'll see different versions of you hanging about the cafeteria. There are a few who, like you, adore him from the very first moment they see him. There's one who clearly wants to twist him up like a pretzel. But he knows it's you, and it would be shameful if he didn't, having spent so much time around you, having kissed you, felt your naked shoulders under his hands.
He doesn't think, he just clicks the stop button on the elevator and waits for the doors to open. 
You're not great at making friends. Pretty much every Spider person is a little weirdo, but you perturb the imperturbable with your flirting and your niceness, he assumes. You come off rather suspiciously at moments. He himself didn't trust you as far as he could throw you at first (though admittedly he could throw you quite far). 
Which is why he's pleased to see you in company. You and a couple of other rookies are milling around one of the training gymnasiums. The keychain of your phone hangs out of your pocket, purple translucent beads against your black thigh. You've been having a great time making jewellery lately, and he should know —no matter how well you clean, he finds beads and metal eyelets on the floor and occasionally in the sheets. 
"I can make you one," you're saying, clearly delighted at being asked. 
"You would?" asks a Spider-Man. Miguel doesn't know who he is, only that his suit looks vaguely similar to Peter B.'s, and… he's standing quite close to you, actually. 
Miguel stops walking. 
"Who is that?" Lyla asks. 
"Shouldn't you know?" he asks her. 
"What, like I'm some sort of intelligence model that knows everything about everyone?" 
Miguel doesn't have the cheer to laugh. His presence is like a rippling wave, a mixture of proud smiles and scared glances shot his way. He barely notices, his attention on you and your admirer. 
You and Miguel are sleeping together, but it's more than that. You spend hours together every day. He all but admitted he's infatuated with you, and you've been obviously embroiled in his disastrous personality since the moment you met him. You don't care that he's made pages upon pages of terrible decisions, you still deign to sit in his lap every evening, stroking hair behind his ears while you talk about everything but whatever it is between you.
He's never been scared about the exclusivity of your situation until right now. 
"It's not so hard, it just takes time," you say. 
"Don't put yourself down! You have talented hands, I can tell." 
You preen very sweetly in Miguel's opinion. It's not often he sees you shy. It's a shame the compliment you've perceived and the one Spider-Man is laying down aren't totally equivalent. 
"Thank you so much. You know, my– Miguel, we have matching charms," you say, beaming. 
"Miguel," Spider-Man says worriedly, "as in, Miguel O'Hara." 
"Yes!" you say happily. 
"Yep," Miguel says, with altogether too much satisfaction. 
Spider-Man looks at him with wide eyes. Miguel isn't proud, but he glares, as if to say, If you know what's good for you. 
"I'll see you later," Spider-Man says, shoulders slouched forward as he walks away. 
You give a cheerful goodbye and lean into Miguel as you do, your hand touching his hip. "Did you hear? He said my keychains are awesome." 
"I heard. Are you coming up with me?" he asks. 
Your smile turns playful. "Do you want me to?" 
"I think Miguel definitely wants you where he can see you," Lyla says.
Miguel bats her like a moth, to her annoyance. She whizzes around his head, her white coat fluttering from the simulated force of her movement, before pretending to kick him in the jaw as she disappears. 
"What does that mean?" you ask. 
"It doesn't mean anything. I want you wherever you want to be."  
"Oh. Well, I like being with you," you say, "so we all win. Are we going to the lab?" 
Miguel nods and can't summon any words to say that won't give him away. He leads you to the elevator, and together you stand in the centre of the glass box looking down at the inner workings of the Society scraper. It looks more like an ant hive than a spider's nest, wriggling bodies moving in waves from one place to the other. 
He tries not to be sullen with you. Punishing you for decisions he has or hadn't made isn't his style, but he can't help falling silent. You deserve to be complimented, fawned at, praised for your keychains. They're great. You're great. 
There's no reason for you to choose him over any other person who might want your affections. 
"Is something wrong?" you ask. 
"No." 
"Yes," Lyla says. 
"Nothing is wrong," Miguel says. 
"Well, if I did something–" 
"You didn't do anything," Miguel and Lyla say at the same time, their voices varying in level of joy. "Miguel's just jealous," Lyla finishes.
Miguel would prefer that the elevator crash down a thousand floors than have this conversation. Luckily, the elevator opens, and he spears ahead toward his laboratory and away from your prying questions. 
"Why are you jealous, handsome?" you ask, taking doubly quick footsteps to keep up with his large strides. 
"I'm not jealous." 
"What's wrong, then?" 
"Nothing." 
"That blows. Don't be a coward," you tease. 
"I'm not being a coward," he says, laughing. He loves and hates how you lift his mood. 
"I didn't think so. You're going to tell me what's wrong, I can feel it," you say, grabbing his wrist in your hand. 
He's thankful Lyla read the room and disappeared, but he knows she's listening. He sticks his tongue in his cheek for a moment. 
"We aren't… you have no obligation to me," he says. 
"I don't think that's true." 
"Well, you don't." 
"What, because we aren't on paper?" Ah. Lackadaisical you may be, but you're just as smart as anyone. You wrap your arms around your stomach. "So you have no obligation to me?"
"That's not what I'm saying." 
Your sudden spike of insecurity fades. "That's sort of how it works, Miguel." 
"You don't have to be stuck with me," Miguel says. "That's all." 
"Good thing I'm not stuck." You begin walking again and Miguel takes your cue, following behind you in a daze he isn't proud of. "I quite like being with you, unstuck. We don't have to call it anything or anything, but you don't have to feel grumpy about my lack of obligation." 
"Qué maravilla. You have it all figured out, huh?" he asks, though inside he's more than relieved. 
"No!" you say through laughter. "Of course I don't. I know you, though. And you have me." 
Your hand clamps onto his shoulder and you go on toes to kiss his cheek. You need a little help; Miguel dips his face toward his shoulder to give you better access. You kiss his cheek.
"I might tell Peter I can't make him a keychain, after all," you say. "I– I think he might have been flirting with me." 
Miguel nods, his smile painfully tight. "You think so?" 
Your laughter fans out across his cheek as you give him a second kiss. 
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ghouljams · 4 months
Note
Ok but… single dad!price playing with his kid??? Ngl that’d have me asking him if he’d want more 👀👀👀
You watch as a child runs(toddles) to Price, only to be scooped up and tossed in the air by the man. You'd be more worried except that the peals of laughter speak to this being a familiar experience. Similarly the bear hug that the child is caught in, and the way Price leans forward to tip the child over his arms and kiss their cheek with a loud smack, make you think this happens a lot. "Daddy that tickles!" comes through breathless laughter, as Price pulls them both up to stand straight. He shift the kid to sit against his hip, and gives him a short bounce.
"Where's your nanny bud?" He asks, wiping some crumbs off the kid's cheek. The little boy scrunches his face up and tries to wiggle away from his father's hand. You cover your mouth to try and hide the giggle that threatens to slip free. They're a cute pair, the kid looks just like him.
"She said, um, she said," The kid can't be more than three, doing his best at talking with all the starts and stops of still learning. He glances at you, and leans against Price's shoulder, cupping his hand to whisper. Price hums, and turns his head so the kid can talk in his ear with a small smile. He mouths a silent 'sorry' at you and you shake your head with a smile. He told you he had a kid before you started dating, you can't fault him for being a father.
"You can say hi," Price tells his boy when the kiddo pulls away. He bounces him on his hip again and the kid leans his head against Price's shoulder, suddenly shy. He looks at you under his dad's jaw with a small smile and gives a little wave. You wave back with a friendly grin. "I've gotta put 'im to bed, do you mind if-"
"Not at all," You tell him, following Price inside the house when he holds the door. He directs you towards the couch and you take a seat, waiting for whatever bedtime rituals this little family of two has to finish. You can hear the soft melody of Price's voice as he sings quiet lullabies to his child through the walls, and it makes you smile a little wider. When he comes back it's with tight smile.
"Thanks for waiting, I know it's not-"
You cut him off again, "It's no trouble at all, your boy comes first." Price hums, dropping down next to you on the couch. He loops an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close against his side. "You're a good dad," You say, just... well just because you know he worries about it.
"Tryin' to be," He sighs. You cuddle a little closer against him, pick your feet up to swing over his lap. His free hand drops to rest against your thigh, thumb swiping against your leg idly.
"You ever think about having more?" You ask, curious. It's not the sort of question you usually broach so early in a relationship, but watching him with his kid makes you feel a little...
"We can start tryin' any time, sweetheart." Price rumbles low in his chest, the hand on your leg squeezes gently. You laugh at the joke, and his hand slips between your legs to press against you, firm fingers rubbing just where you like. You suck in a breath and try not to rock too desperately into the touch. "Already seen how good I treat one baby," He breathes, the firm pressure between your legs terribly distracting, "you want me to fuck another into you, all you gotta do is ask."
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pix3lplays · 4 months
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I just had MASSIVE brain worms with anon’s thoughts on aventurine and sunday— OK SO
The whole jealous/possessive trope? Yeah, how about that with those two :) you meet aventurine at one of penacony’s bars or clubs and bond over some cards after he teaches you. What becomes a regular, friendly match turns into cute meetings and he ventures to take you out into town. Now I see aventurine as the teasing and touchy type. If you’re comfy with it, he’s 1000% slinging an arm around your waist, shoulder, stuff like that.
Sunday is someone you meet naturally as he’s like one of the major heads of the Family on all of Penacony. Maybe your job has you bond with him during social or political meetings but his smile and kind mannerisms seem a little less forced with you: one of Sunday’s signals that he is fond of you.
Well BOTH of these men scream (a lil manipulative) and VERY observant so naturally they’d absolutely know it if the other is harboring feelings or stealing longing glances.
Sunday showering you in gifts, some anonymous with poetic letters, some personally handed to you. Aventurine showing you off around town while he carries your shopping bags for you, letting you do anything your cute heart desires. He’d make eye contact with Sunday from across the street and just fucking SMIRK. I know he would. But because both men are powerful and supposed to be diplomatic to one another between the IPC and Family, they can’t exactly eliminate competition :(
Ahhhhhhh no thoughts head empty, just THIS
Oh my word your brain is so big I could listen to you talk about this all day.
@fire-lizard-ro for helping me out!
Cw! Manipulation
But oh my gosh what I’d do to be stuck in between AVENTURINE and Mr. SUNDAY PLEASE but also WOAH that’s terrifying~
Mr. Aventurine. Real dangerous. Manipulative. Hard to read. But he’ll buy you whatever your eyes land on, and his arm feels so nice wrapped loosely around your waist…
Mr. Sunday won’t indulge you quite as much. He doesn’t believe in buying affections, like Aventurine does. But that doesn’t mean he won’t give you attention. He’s full of pretty little words and pretty little presents, and of course any time spent with Sunday lives in your head for a long, long time.
They’re both So manipulative. Aventurine likes the classic: look at all I’ve given you. You can’t live without me. While Sunday doesn’t Say it but he definitely makes you think it.
Imagine just…being with Aventurine in the casino. You’re sitting on his lap, kissing his jaw, kissing his tattoo, helping him cheat at cards…
It looks like the night is about to end on a high note, until one more challenger appears. Mr. Sunday himself.
Neither of them say it, but you know it too. The final prize, Aventurine’s last gamble…
You.
Aventurine and Sunday were going to play one last round for you.
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multifariousqueer · 11 months
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Heyyyyy sorry this is my first time Requesting but can you do a earth 42 miles x reader where the reader has to go on vacation and he’s not happy.🤭🤭🤭
If not that’s ok and you can add your own little twist on it. Ty❤️❤️❤️
Yeah ofc!
A/n: keep requesting fics!!!! I’m sorry this one is so short y’all, I literally wrote it being half-awake
Warnings: possessiveness, miles being sweet, nothing else
Your parent’s had saved up enough money to go to Belize for your 16th birthday and you were ecstatic. The gorgeous views, the crystal clear oceans and the beautiful sunsets were just some of the things you were excited for, but Miles wasn’t as excited:
“You’re leaving me for 2 weeks? What am I supposed to do without you?” He questioned
“Well I guess you’ll just have to cope” you smirked
“What if some Cabrón tries to take you from me?” he said
“No Cabrón will try to take me away from you, Miles. I love you and it will always be you, okay?” You said reassuringly, touching his forehead with your own
“Si Mami, tu eres mio y solo mio” he spoke
You kissed your boyfriend on his temple and went back to packing your bags, all the while, he was lovingly admiring your movements. He decided to help you after a while and asked you some questions:
“you got your ring?"
“Yes, Miles"
“The Jordan’s I got you?” he interrogated
“Miles, it’s gonna be 95 degrees outside” You pleaded
“And?” he said
“and, I am not gonna wear them. Plus, we’re going out to dinner and Jordans aren’t exactly “dinner friendly”.” you said
“dinner friendly my ass, Mami; you’re mine and that counts for when you’re on vacation” Miles said, walking towards you
“I know Papi, I know. I’m yours even on vacation; okay?” you reassured
“okay. Let me know if you need some money or anything.” he said
“Okay, mi amor” you smiled
Sooner or later you arrived at the airport and were on your way to the terminal when you saw Miles waiting for you:
“what are you doing here?” you questioned
He pulled you in for a hug and placed a soft kiss on your lips
“I’m gonna miss you too, babe” you said with a smirk
“if something happens out there, call me.” he said
“of course, Papi. I’ll call you every night.” you spoke
And with that, you were off to your trip. It was beautiful and you got to see so many nice sights, meet new people and try new foods. It was the most fun you have had in a long time; it took your mind off of the grim, dull life of the city but you missed Miles more than anything in the universe so you decided to call.
“Miles, baby?” you asked
“Yeah, ma I’m here. You good?” he asked
“Yeah. I miss you so much. But its fun over here! I know you would love it.” you said
“Yeah well. I love wherever you are, Mami.” Miles spoke
“Awww you’re so sweet. How is it going over there?” you asked
“It’s going, that’s for sure.” he said, sarcastically
“Why? What’s wrong?” you asked
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you later” Miles said
“Oh okay!! I’ll see you in two days.” you spoke excitedly
“Okay, I love you hermosa.” He said
“I love you too! Bye.” you said as you departed
The last two days went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were home. You visited Miles before you went back to your house and he nearly jumped you when you walked in the door:
“I missed you, ma” he said in your hair
“I missed you too.” you confessed, breathing in his intoxicating scent that you missed dearly
“So did some asshole try to hit on my girl?” Miles questioned
“No baby, no. What happened while I was gone?” you questioned back
“Just some business stuff” Miles said, reassuringly
You kissed the man you loved dearly and he lifted you princess style and took you to the bed where you slept like a baby, after being home and being with the man you missed terribly.
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 5 months
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Hiii☺It's my first time asking for a fic!I LOVE your fics so much so i thought i would ask you. I really hope you'll like the idea🤞It's a bit long tho.(smut fic🙊)
Larissa and Reader are best friends, they know everything about each other, they flirt and challenge each other, talk about sex and everything but never had sex. They're close.
Larissa invites R to spend the evening with her in her quarter, have a drink and watch a movie (that they'll never pay attantion to as usual).They talk, laugh and get a bit tipsy and R ask Larissa why she choosed not to have tattoos or piercing and then at some point, Larissa ask "how many piercing do you have? You never told me." So R gets up and show her the one on her nose, her lip, cheeks, a sternum piercing , maybe 3-4 each ear and maybe a lower back dimple piercings (those are ideas, you can add or change the piercing's places) and then she could sit back down and say "and i have my nipples pierced and a Christina's piercing. Would you like too see them too?" (half) joking because she thought Larissa would never say yes (not that she really minded showing her, she trusts her enough) but Larissa sensed the challenge there and decided to take R offguard and say yes, thinking that reader were going to back down, but then R gets up again and Larissa realised that she was REALLY going to show her and her eyes went wide at the idea but she didn't back down.....and then smut smut smut😅
You can add any kinks, toys or both,i'm fine with that!You can also add things about the beginning of the story if you think about something!I hope you want to write it and if not,it's ok too!Thank you xxxx
-Anon🌠⭐-
The Way You Adore Me (Like No Other) ~Larissa Weems xFem BestFriend!Reader
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Summary— Larissa and Reader are best friends. They have been for as long as they can remember, the kind of friends who do all together and talk about it all. But what happens when you have a little too much to drink, and you find out that Larissa has a thing for your tattoos and piercings…?
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Anon response— Hi hi anon!! Thank you for your kind words, I greatly appreciate them 🥰 and I love your request! I hope I did your idea justice. Thank you for the request, and welcome to my anons!! (if you’d do me a favor and clarify what emoji you’d like, I’d appreciate that, thank you!) Hope you Enjoy! ♥️
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smutty smut, drinking, little angst, little fluff, oral sex (both f receiving), fingering, face sitting, body adoration, tattoos and piercings adoration, teasing, light begging, implied overstimulation, confession of feelings, etc.
Enjoy (;
You sighed in relief as you enter Larissa’s private quarters. Being with your best friend always made everything better. You two just clicked perfectly.
Literally. You were such a good match. You talked about all kinds of shit. You have fun toying with one another, neither of you being one to back down from a challenge. Nothing was off the table when it came to you two.
You dropped your bags by the door, closing it behind you.
“Hey ‘Ris!!”
You called out your close friends name to indicate to her that you had arrived. Larissa had invited you to a sleepover this particular Friday night. She had mentioned something about a terribly stressful week, and being the good friend you were, you immediately took up the opportunity to care for and be with your friend.
“Oh Darling, Hello, Come in!” Larissa exclaimed, coming into the main entrance which connected to her living room, and greeting you.
The tall woman came up to you, giving you side kisses on each of your cheeks and then pulling you into a friendly hug. You sighed into Larissa’s embrace. Her hugs always made you lose all worry in your life.
You then properly came into her quarters, and the two of you ended up sitting comfortably on her couch. Larissa had brought a bottle of red wine and some glasses for you two to share. And like most sleepovers, the two of you planned to put on a movie. Although you both knew you wouldn’t pay much attention to it…
Tonight, you both decided on Three Thousand Years of Longing, a movie with Idris Elba and Tilda Swinton apparently about genies. Neither of you had a particular interest in genie movies, so it was a perfect pick to play in the background and just forget about.
As the movie began, Larissa popped the cork of the wine bottle and poured two glasses out for the two of you. She handed you your glass and you thanked the blonde. You then sat in each others company and just talked.
Larissa spilled all the details about her stress at work, and you as well. You talked and talked, the only thing visibly affecting the atmosphere was the every now and then sex scenes that came up from the movie. It caused a good deal of blushes, breath hitches, and clearing throats…
A couple of hours later the movie was almost over. And you had to confess that your knickers were damp from all the sex sounds that had been coming from the television… You didn’t know, but Larissa had admitted a similar thing to herself.
Your conversations could go in any and all directions. Especially when you were both tipsy. And that you were. By now, your conversation had shifted to talk about tattoos and piercings.
“I know you’ve probably told me this, but why don’t you have any tattoos again?” You tipsily asked.
Larissa took a moment to muse and think about her answer.
“Well, If I ever do get a tattoo, I think it’s important that it matters to me and will matter for the rest of my life… And I have never found something that fits that requirement.”
You hummed and nodded your head in response, going for another swig of wine quickly afterward.
“How many piercings do you now have?” The blonde asked curiously, her eyes lightly roaming up and down your frame.
You pursed your lips and smiled.
“Well… the nose ring, bottom lip, dimples, sternum, nipples, and a Christina piercing.”
You explained each piercing, indicating where each one was as you said it. Larissa’s eyes widened and darkened after every piercing location was revealed to her.
“And tattoos…?” She said, almost sounding breathless.
Larissa had put her wine done at this point. And she had scooted close to you.
“Ooh, I’ve got a lot of those… Wanna see them?”
You had responded in a particularly teasing and playful manner, half-way joking, and not expecting the blonde to take to up on your offer.
Larissa’s eyes sparkle and her pupils dilated at your words. She could never refuse a challenge, especially not from you…
“Yes. And the nipples piercings too…”
You nearly chocked on your own air, as your eyes widened at record speed. It’s not that you minded, you didn’t, you truly trusted Larissa. You just hadn’t expected that from here.
“I—Ok…!” You chocked out, standing up in front of Larissa to give her a better view.
Larissa leaned forward in anticipation, bring her lips and clasping her hands together over her legs. You then started to show the blonde each of your tattoos, one by one. Eventually you finished your tour, leaving your last two piercings.
You had to admit that you were a little nervous. But you were also tipsy. And those two things kind of cancelled each other out in your case.
So you lifted your shirt with ease, showing the woman your piercings on your exposed breasts. Larissa damn near chocked on her wine at the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. Her eyes widened and she fought to keep her mouth from dropping.
Larissa, almost dumbfounded, stood up and walked a few steps forward, where she was right in front of you. She reached out delicately, running a finger around your left nipple piercing. Your breath hitched lightly.
“And then I have my Christina piercing…!” You quickly said, redirecting the focus of the conversation.
Larissa’s eyes popped back up from your tits to your eye level.
“What’s that?” She innocently asked.
“It’s… I…” you stammered, your words lost on you.
“It’s— a piercing above my lower lips…”
Larissa’s eyes widened.
The wine was affecting you both by this point…
“Show me.”
You sensed the woman’s challenge and you decided to just show the woman.
You pulled your skirt down to pool storing your feet, and you carefully moved your underwear to the side, enough where Larissa could see the silver piercing near your sex.
Larissa had no words, and for a moment she just stood there. But you blinked once, and all of a sudden Larissa was on her knees, her mouth attacking your cunt.
Your knees threatened to buckle and your groaned loudly, your hand desperately grasping Larissa for stability.
“Jesus Fuck—!!”
Larissa pulled away after one simple lick, staring up at you with wide eyes. Your breath hitched and you stared back.
“You taste so good…” she whispered.
You wanted to combust right there. Your hips instinctually bucked towards the woman’s face.
“Don’t stop on my accord” you whispered back, your words turning into a groan as Larissa immediately dove in face first.
One of your hands flew to her free locks, which she had unpinned throughout the night. Your other hand desperately cling to Larissa’s shoulder.
Larissa’s tongue expertly lapped through your folds, but only after a swipe around your Christina piercing each time. It was teasing torture.
You groaned out in a whiny and breathy tone after ten minutes of this teasing.
“Oh for fucks sake Larissa— just fuck me already!!”
Larissa didn’t need to be told twice, simply humming in delight into your cunt, and then sliding her tongue into your core. You both moaned out in delight, your grasp at her head tightening.
The woman had you seeing stars minutes after this. Larissa stopped for a moment, coming up to your face and smashing her lips into yours. You moaned at your own taste on her lips. As you did so, Larissa was swift in undressing you.
“Want to see all of you… all of your piercings… all of your tattoos…” she breathlessly pled.
After all of your clothes had been discarded, Larissa playfully pushed you onto the couch. She went to straddle you, her dress still adorning her body.
“Is this okay…?” Larissa asked, a little concerned about her weight on you.
“More than…” you groaned with a post-orgasmic smile.
Larissa smirked and nodded, slipping to kneel right in front of the couch. Her hand grabbed your legs and hooked them up and above her shoulder for her easy access.
You gasped. Larissa then took a second to let her eyes wander at all of your piercings and tattoos. She licked her lips.
You were still buzzing from your previous orgasm when Larissa began swirling a finger around your slick folds. She continued to tease you clit and the entrance to your sex on and off while she sucked and licked and marked your skin. She eagerly focused her efforts on your tatted and pierced area of exposed skin.
Your head rolled back and you let out a breathy groan. Your one hand landed back in Larissa’s platinum locks, while your other was stabilizing yourself against eh couch.
“ ‘Rissa… please…” you breathily moaned, begging the woman to take you and stop all the teasing.
Larissa chuckled, and while she didn’t stop caressing and loving on your exposed skin, she did slip one of her fingers inside your wet heat. You hummed out in delight, her one finger providing your walls something to clench around, while you didn’t feel quite full or stretched yet.
While Larissa pulled and pushed her one digit in and out of you, her mouth was latched onto one of your perky, pierced buds. Strings of more breathy groans and pleading followed out of your mouth.
“M-more please ‘Rissa…!”
Larissa chuckled, pulling her one digit out, and then slipping two fingers inside you. Now this started to stretch you out. You hissed in response, your eyes rolling back.
“Taking me so well, Darling…” the woman cooed, biting your ear lobe where you had your lobe piercing.
“God F-faster—!!” You cried out breathily.
Larissa happily obliged, fucking into you with her fingers at a faster pace. The combination of her two digits and her sultry tone had you cumming a second time for the woman that night.
This time you screamed for Larissa as she made you see stars, and your legs were wobbly and shaking even more than last time.
“That’s it, doing so good…” she encouraged you, helping you over your high.
But she didn’t stop afterwards. No, she showed no signs of stopping. Her lips quickly attached to your clit, and she slid a third finger into your aching and sensitive core. You groaned and hissed, and your hand was pushing Larissa’s head further into your cunt.
Larissa’s hot mouth put the perfect amount of suction against your puffy clit and her three finger combo made you crash over into third, smaller, but still substantial orgasm.
You fell into the couch cushions, going limp, and Larissa finally pulled away, licking her fingers with wild eyes and a wicked smirk.
“W-wearing too many clothes ‘Rissa…” you huffed, completely out of breath, raising your hand lazily and indicating to her attire.
Larissa chuckled and immediately went to unzip her dress. It pooled at her feet, and she was quick to get rid of her silky undergarment set as well. In a second, the woman had you laid back along the couch, as she hovered on top of you.
She licked her lips.
“I was right by the way… you taste insatiably delicious.” Larissa purred, staring down at you.
You gulped and took the moment to admire the woman’s frame above you. Before Larissa could do anything, you raised yourself up and latched your tongue around one of her nipples. Larissa shuddered and let out a yelp.
“I think…” you hummed, letting go of her perky bud with a pop, “It’s your turn.”
Larissa’s eyes widened at your words and she nodded lightly.
“Alright…” she breathlessly spoke.
You looked the woman up and down before deciding.
“Sit on my face.”
Her eyes widened and her expression changed to one of concern.
“Oh. No, I don’t think—”
Larissa was stopped mid-sentence, gasping and groaning, by your lips trailing from her breasts and down her stomache, as you shimmied down the couch and towards her core.
“Trust me ‘Rissa…” you purred, licking through her folds only once.
Larissa’s hips immediately jerked towards your mouth for more. And she let out the hottest moan. She seemed convinced… Larissa carefully positioned herself above your face, you eagerly grabbed her hips and stuffed your face full of her needy sex.
Larissa’s hands landed on the couch to stabilize herself, as her head was thrown back and strings of leud groans and whimpers escaped her pristine lips.
Larissa looked lake a goddess above you, as you lapped away at her folds and into her core. Her hair and tits swayed in tandem, and the moment slowed perfectly for you to just revel and delight in the other woman.
~
When you woke up, you weren’t in your own bed… and you weren’t alone… Twisted in what you assumed to be expensive, silk sheets, you found yourself to be naked and with a strong enough headache.
You knew that you should have laid back on the alcohol…
You looked around and realized that you were in Larissa’s bedroom. And then you looked next to you in the bed, and sure enough, there lay a sleeping Larissa, just as nude as you.
You gasped lightly, sitting up, as all the events from last night came back to you. Part of you felt guilty that you both had been drunk enough, but a bigger part of you was so happy that it had finally happened.
But what if Larissa didn’t feel the same…?
“What’s on your mind, Love…?” A croaky, sleepy, yet still sultry British accent spoke out, bringing you out of your thoughts.
You looked towards Larissa who was still turned towards you, but this time her eyes were lightly opened and her sapphire gaze was upon you. You blushed lightly and sunk back into the bed.
“I… I feel like I may have taken advantage of our drunken state last night…” you whispered, not being able to look the woman in the eye as you spoke.
Larissa’s hand emerged from the covers, lightly directing your face by the chin to meet her gaze.
“Darling. If anything, I took advantage of you. I practically attacked you.” She breathed out.
“No no…” you shook your head, “I loved it.”
Your words came out before you could check them, making you blush even more intensely. At this Larissa chuckled lightly.
“I did too…”
You both smiled at each other, enjoying the newfound silence and love.
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
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