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screampied · 2 months

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"Just the tip" trope w/ jjk men?👁️👁️

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ JUST THE TIP, GIRL ! ’﹒⺡

ᡣ𐭩 feat. sukuna, choso, nanami, geto, gojo

ᡣ𐭩 total wc. 3.2k

ᡣ𐭩 warnings. fem! reader, mdni, overstim, unprotected, true form sukuna, praise, dirty talk, quickies, dry humping, whiney men, choking, inplied breeding, hitting it raw.

࣪. ᨳ GOJO SATORU. ࣪

“princess, you’re killing me,” gojo whimpers, feeling you casually move your hips against him. he’s staring at you, glossed lips just trembling. with two rough hands attached to your waist, he faintly strokes a thumb beneath the fabric that stuck beside your skin. “the tip. please.”

“wait a little,” you hum, making his back hit against the softly padded pillow. gojo grunts, the smooth part of your panties glissading back and forth on his length. his boxers was lazily pulled down, and he was all exposed…all warm. you felt a tiny veiny poke through, skimming against your entrance and you giggle before leaning up close to his ear. “oh sorry, did you say something? i can’t understand when you mumble, baby.”

gojo lightly throws his head back, grabbing a chunk of your ass before his right thigh bounces in utter anticipation. “f-fuck, don’t whisper in my ear like that,” and his voice was so shaky—he starts to pant frantically, just imagining being inside of you again. “you fuckin’ heard me.”

“remember who’s on top of you,” you tease, pressing a kiss near the corner of his mouth. for a split second, you heard gojo gulp, bright blue irises meeting your gaze. now that made him hard. shivers run all over his body the moment he feels you wrap a hand over his shaft, staring to realign yourself. “but fine, lie back…princess.”

soft puffs of breath escape past his mouth as he stares at you, a near smirk stretching against his pink lips. “bratty girl. quit talkin’ ‘n just ride me, how about that.”

“for all i care, you can just get yourself off,” you snicker. after you speak, gojo immediately shuts up the moment his leaky tip just barely hovers beneath your slick entrance.

with a clenched jaw, he presses his lips shut, a soft whine running past his lips to moment you start to jerk. “lot of mouth for how needy you are to be inside, ‘toru.”

“s-shut up,” he grumbles, and it’s cute. the attitude in his voice. the slight rasp to it, even the adorable flush that crept onto both sides of his temples.

gojo craved more, his mouth started to heavily salivate just imagining being inside of you. pumping you full of thick inches for the umpteenth time. “god, i just— i need you. know i said the tip but i just want you.”

you pepper a kiss near the corner of his mouth, and his first reaction was to kiss back ; he misses, making him cause himself to dreadfully whine.

lips forming a sweet desperate ‘o’ he leans back before gripping your hip tightly. you whisper, slowly sinking down into his length. “you can never make up your mind,” you purr, and the silk that ran against your voice.

“say one thing then you want another,” you continue, and he leans into your touch. he grows hard inside you, warmth swallowing you entirely.

gojo’s ears perked at the sound of your voice, the softness air that danced against his earlobe from your breathe.

he couldn’t help but pant, awaiting to have you sunk all the way down to the base. “you keep whinin' everytime i don’t give your lips any attention,” and for a brief moment, gojo’s eyes meet yours again, he feels so hot. you talking to him in such a sweet way like that only makes him feel ten times hotter. “you want a kiss?”

“i … i wanna kiss ‘n pump you full at the same time,” he says in a single breath. the hold you had on him was so heady.

gojo can’t stop himself from feeling all over your body, he felt giddy. in the best way possible. the way your cunt gradually went down on him. you made sure to take your time just to tease him a bit more. gojo’s pout doesn’t take long to make an appearance on him. “just…touch me… just want a taste of my girl while s-she’s on top.”

but the moment you were all the way down…

you felt his dick stretch you out for how many times again, you suppress a moan. leaning in, you squeeze gojo’s lips together playfully—bringing him into a sloppy kiss. his favorite kind of kisses.

the kind where your tongue would slide against his in such a messy way, he’d suck on yours before moaning right into your mouth. a single make out session with gojo was enough to make you pulse through your pulled to the side panties.

“i’m n-not gonna last with you grinding against me like that,” he whimpers, nearly having the wind being snatched out of him the moment you start up a rhythmic grind. “ride me jus’ like that,” he’d pant, and as you tantalizingly ghost a hand up his abs, you intentional make him shudder within your hold.

gojo pauses, grabbing your wrist. with a swift lick of his lips, he uses another hand to spank your ass, another to make your hand wrap around his neck. “choke me. choke me while y-you ride me, baby. please?”

. ᨳ NANAMI KENTO.

“i don’t want you to overwork yourself, sweetheart,” nanami says in a hushed tone. in the midst of you having your hands kneading through flour, you’re bent over the counter.

“have i,” he started, pausing to kiss near your nape. he was so close you felt his bulge prop up against you, “told you,” he halts again, a hand snaking around your waist, “how pretty you look in sundresses?”

“no,” you nearly slip off a moan, trying to avert your gaze back towards the bowl that had your hands covered in dough. his touch felt so good, he was gentle with you. nanami sneaks a kiss near the corner of your neck before you gasp. he pants your legs just a bit before kissing down your back. chastely. “the food, baby.”

nanami huffs, softly ghosting a thumb beside the exposed skin near your back. “you’re an amazing cook sweetheart, but ‘m hungry for something else,” and his words were so warm, smooth and all. the moment he murmurs tender in a soft voice against your ear. it was enough to make you immediately throb. “i want a little of your attention, just…a little.”

“okay,” you mutter, gnawing on the skin of your lip once he hurriedly moves your panties towards the side. a dripping soaked mess, nanami couldn’t help but stare for a bit. he was already insanely hard. his touch, it was so sensually smooth. with a single hand on your hip, you let off a sweetened mewl once you suddenly feel the throbbing tip of nanami’s dick glide against your folds. “k-kento, fuck.”

“missed bein' inside my wife,” he rasps, and he’s so pushed up against you it makes him dizzy. nanami eases his was inside, stretching you gingerly before you left off a sweet whimper. “you always know how to bend over for me like a good girl,” he purrs, bringing another amount of kisses towards the back part of your neck.

his breathing becomes unsteady and irregular, the thin fabric of your sundress, he has a firm grip on it. “was…was gonna give you the tip but i just wanna pump you full, sweetheart,” and you bite your lip, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against your ass. “give you.. a baby or two.”

nanami had you leaning forward, your hands were still in the bowl of ingredients before he hesitates. his voice cracks, pitching high for a concise moment. for the first time, you were hearing a needy nanami. “will you let me stuff you full? tell me in that pretty voice of yours.”

his words, it struck right into your heart and in the process—right between your legs. you felt sticky, a bit moist just from nanami grinding up against you. whenever it came to you, he just couldn’t contain himself.

“y-yes, please kento,” you’d whimper out, feeling two big hands of his caress your ass. he groans, so thick and big…yet so tender with the way he relaxed himself inside. such gummy walls hugging him so tight and close, it makes his jaw tense in a thirsty manner. “just fuck me, baby. i want you so bad.”

“wanted you more,” he whispers. a stroke of his, lightly shoving his hips into you—you gasp, nearly dropping the dishes. “s-sorry, honey. might wanna hold on. ‘s gonna get a bit messy,” and as he says that, a soft chortles flies past his lips. nanami teasingly runs the cold band of his watch down your back, watching you cutely squirm. “but i’ll clean you right up, i love when my sweetheart’s a little nasty.”

ᨳ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

ironically enough, you’d be the one asking sukuna. he’d have the snuggest grin on his lips, buff arms crossed towards his chest whilst you straddled him.

“speak, girl,” and you suddenly grow shy, being propped up on the king's lap. his voice was a deep pitched low, fully stirring you up from the inside. sukuna cups your chin, making it hard for you to avoid his gaze before he murmurs. “tell me what you most desire, little concubine.”

“i want…” you start to speak before trailing off. his gaze, it was never not intimidating. for a split second, you could just about make out a mere small smirk lingering against his lips. sukuna brings a hand toward your waist, softly stroking your skin before you intake a sharp breath. “i want to feel you f-from the inside, ‘kuna. just the tip, please?”

“awwww,” he purrs, and he’s sat manspread. his grip he had on your hip, the way his fingers tenderly strokes beneath the thin straps of your panties. needless to say, it had you soaked.

“just can’t get enough, huh? was last night not enough to satisfy you?” and he takes pride in the pout that goes against your lips. “go ahead then. show me how needy you can be.”

his words had such smugness to it, you whimpered with such exasperation. eagerly springing his length out, not wanting to waste anymore time. sukuna stares at you, a low grunt slithers past his lips before you’re just hovering over his fat tip.

it was glistening with pre-cum, you let off a soft coo, making his tip swipe and smear all over your glistening folds. “s-sukuna, i want you. i want more.”

“greedy girl,” he snickers, and you suddenly felt small. being sat on his lap, his frame was so big. a lot bigger and broader than you. sukuna’s base was hefty, it jolted against his leg the moment you pushed yourself forward. he leans in as if he was about to kiss you. instead, he cups your grin again, multiple eyes staring right into the depths of your soul before whispering out a husky, “no one’s stopping you, princess.”

you moaned, his words was enough to get you dripping like a faucet between your legs—how embarrassing…

within moments, you sink down a bit further, and he’s huge. you feel his dick reach everywhere, such thickness it has your mouth salivating. “f-fuck, ‘kuna,” and his ears perk at the sound of your voice. the bitter sweetness to it. you were always so whiney, growing quiet every few seconds to hear the squelches your pussy made in retaliation. huffing and puffing, your eye-lids grew heavy, he was insanely packed. you felt him everywhere, and once you finally sat down against his base, you pull him into a hug. “so.. so big, stretching me.”

“…oh, don’t tell me that’s all,” sukuna grumbled cheekily, feeling your frame. he creates a fake pout, unreservedly mimicking the pout you had on your own face earlier. “you said just the tip but you can barely handle a few inches, concubine.”

he chuckles darkly, watching your cute face fall. you try to pivot your hips but not even seconds later. you end up making a mess on his lap, bundles of nerves sending you shockwaves. sukuna smiles, bringing a kiss towards the corner of your mouth. “hm. looks like someone needs more training,” and with a sly eyebrow raise, he brings you towards his chest, petting your hair. “if you can barely handle the tip, what makes you think you can handle both of my cocks, princess?”

ᨳ SUGURU GETŌ.

geto would be occupying himself with something, you’re doing nothing but of course—straddling his lap. not a single thought in your mind.

he doesn’t mind it, he enjoys feeling your body all propped up against his. he takes the opportunity to gently snake an arm around your waist, holding you close. although, at this particular point you’d be basically cockwarming him.

“just the tip, you say, suguru,” you utter with a mere hint of sass on your tone. he smiles to himself, your back facing his chest. he’s so warmish, his body heat nearly radiates off of you. skin to skin, it forever felt so intimate. despite the two of you doing nothing but just staying still. “you just wanna fuck me.”

“princess, i wanna hold you and fuck you. ‘s a difference,” and his voice was a bit hoarse—it was unintentionally attractive. he’s sneaking a plethora of kisses down your neck, giving your collarbone a soft suck before he reaches down between your legs. “spread these for me, don’t be shy.”

such thickness to him, it made you swallow, recollecting your thoughts…speaking of thoughts, as mentioned earlier…

your brain was empty. all you could focus on was how stretched you were getting. you were soaking his shaft down to its full supreme—and the last thing you expect is for geto to start rubbing mean circles against your clit. your body’s initial reaction was to lean back against him, and he chuckles, cooing out a, “ooooh.”

“s-suguruuu, fuck,” you’d sniffle, feeling the rotation of his palm creating a circulation motion. he was always so good with his hands. while being stuffed full, he had a free hand maneuvering all sorts of shapes over your folds. “feel so full, jus’ fuck me already.”

“say pretty please ‘n i’ll consider it, baby.”

“you heard what i sai—”

“girl, don’t try me.”

you moan, feeling him spank your cunt at your abrupt sudden brattiness. as your head slumps back against geto, he caresses your entrance before grabbing ahold of your hips. “let’s try this again, yeah?”

through clenched teeth and a cute pout, you huff out a, “…pretty please, suguru.”

he chuckles, and you shudder at the brief sensation of his throbbing mushroom tip just sensually dragging against your core. you gnaw on your lip, digging your nails into the thin fabric of his shorts.

he adores your body language, how adorable—your back arches, and you can barely hold still. all due to his touch, his words, and even the warmth of his breath colliding against your skin.

“good girl. ‘s more like it,” he whispers, and you couldn’t hold in your moans the moment he starts to make you bounce on his cock. you’re a mess, head still leaning back against his cheek, geto faintly wraps a hand around your throat. “should hear how silly you sound for me. whiney girl, fuck…”

and that’s when a hand of his roams up your body, feeling near your chest. he gives your perky nipples a soft pinch and you whine, feeling yourself continue to grow hotter and hotter between your legs. “want attention here too, baby?”

pathetically, you nod, still taking inch after inch inside of your gummy walls. “course ya do,” he teases, sneaking a kiss near the inside of your neck again. “but before we do that,” and you feel your hips come to a terse stop. you pout, feeling two hands of geto’s rapidly stop your hips, and he pulls you closer so he could speak.

with a hand gently caressing near your throat, another prying your legs open for him once more…edging you, he says, “we gotta work on those manners. not gonna let a brat cum on me, sorry princess.”

ᨳ CHOSO KAMO.

“baby,” he says in a sweet, drowsy murmur. choso has you laid flat down. while trailing and skimming a few fingers down your spine—he makes your tummy meekly press right into the cushioned mattress.

“i wanna.. i wanna try something,” and as he’s speaking, you grow quiet, enjoying the hot touch of his fingers. “remember when you asked to see how fast i could last with jus’ the tip in you?”

“mhmm.” you oblige, teasingly hum as a response. you could hear the near shakiness coming from his voice. albeit, you couldn’t particularly see his gaze, but you’d bet money he was just staring right at your body…specifically, from the waist down.

choso kisses his teeth, and you hear a bit of shuffling, “okay. ‘cause, you’re all laid out for me ‘n i just wanna…” he precipitously pauses, feeling you playfully wriggle your ass against him and he groans. “don’t…don’t do that, do tease me.”

“then go ahead, ‘m waiting for you, choso.” you’d titter, awaiting for him to finally come inside—it doesn’t take long.

momentarily, just seconds later…his fat leaky tip was swiftly rubbing against your hole. he starts to pant, long strands of hair running down his back from each particular moment.

he was heavily impatient.

his mind roamed, just a single look at your slick entrance and he’s licking his lips. all he saw was his imagination of loads of his own seed pouring out of your folds.

“nice ‘n warm for me,” he huffs out, clouds of his own breath departing from his lips. choso’s ears, the very tips of them burned with an scorching hot. “always take me so well.”

“f-fuckkk, choso,” you’d gasp, feeling your cunt swallow him easily. he was slow, a single hand attached to your waist.

a soft whimper leaves from choso’s mouth, simply from the way your ass was all pressed up against him. with just a single bit of a hover, he leans forward and he delays his weight just briefly on top of you. “told you, could barely handle just the tip.”

“just lie back ‘n let me give this body the—the attention it deserves,” he grunts, and his stuttering was quite cute.

choso lost all of his composure the moment he was just a few slim inches inside your cunt. squeezing him down so tightly, he watches as his own length gradually disappear between your folds.

“soaking me so good, should be a crime to be this w-wet,” and he nearly finds himself drooling, letting off a cute gasp once he hears that loud squelch. you gripped around him so good, it gave him whiplash … his head spun.

his breathing became erratic, and whenever choso grows out to be excited or far too buoyant than he needed to be, he ends up finishing early. and that’s exactly what he did. a flush goes over his face, as well as with a pout.

“s-shit,” he whimpers, barely even lasting as long as he anticipated. but he couldn’t help it. not with how tightly you maintained a heavy grip on him with your sweetened cunt.

his dick, it had length for sure, and poked against every orifice throughout your sweet cunt.

“wet girl,” he purrs, and starts to ramble to himself, observing his own thick ropes slowly spew outside of you. choso grows curious, using a thumb to swipe some excess of his cum off of your entrance, smearing it against your folds with a weary horny grin before plugging it back in. “my baby’s s-so sloppy.. should pull you close to me ‘n make you taste it.”

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sttoru · 4 months

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your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.

you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.

“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.

satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.

the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.

“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”

satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.

you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.

he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.

satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.

“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.

it was perfect. all of you was perfect.

your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.

the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.

“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.

neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.

the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.

however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.

“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”

you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.

“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.

satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.

over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.

“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.

until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.

“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”

satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.

he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.

“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.

the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”

you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.

“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.

you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.

you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.

“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.

the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.

as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #x female reader

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slvttyplum · 11 days

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toji doesn't apologize, that's something you will never get out of him unless it is life or death, with that being said he has other ways of apologizing so he won't have to see that cute sad pout on your face all day.

having you sit on his lap whenever you get upset or even just trying to get you things that he knew would make you smile, he thought apologies were useless when he knew he was going to do the exact same thing you got mad at him for, it was easier to make things up rather than lie about him not doing that specific thing.

one thing that never failed for him was him fucking you until you forgot your name then getting you food after, this was a ten out of ten “apology” for him, he just had to do it right so that he wouldn't have to hear about it the next day.

pulling you into hi slap as he rubbed over your stomach and gave you tiny kisses on your neck, lightly bouncing his leg hoping it made stimulation in between your legs, he was absolutely right, like he always was. light moans slipping past your lips as he rubs his hands under and up your shirt touching your breasts and playing with your nipples, that's when he knew his pretty girl was going to be okay.

it was easy to get mad at toji, i mean it was toji, but forgiving him was even easier when he fucked you so good that you didn't want him to stop. the next thing you knew, you were in bed getting your hair pulled and your pussy broken in, the tip of his dick pushing deep inside of you, your back arching from the pleasure.

his other hand planted on your ass giving it as squeeze then a smack shortly after, even though this was his “apology.” and the sex was for you, he still did what he wanted with you. twisting and turning you every which way, just to feel you squeeze around him and whimper out his name for him to keep going and give you more.

“please… fuck me again.” your hair disheveled and your eyes red from tears and a smirk on his face, he loved when he could tell that you were feeling good and that your head was fuzzy from the pleasure that arose inside of you and slipped out all in one breath. the fact that you would cum five times all in one night just from him proves that you did not need a verbal apology, you just needed his hands roaming around your body and his dick slipped deep inside of you.

“good girl, keep taking it.” while flipping you over and spreading your thighs out while putting his thumb over your clit and lightly pushing on it and swirling it, his dick pushing into you more and more. your face and body reacting to him well, this was all that mattered, you're taking him in and forgetting everything that happened before that.

the only thing that mattered then and after was you and him, he knew what you wanted and needed from him and that's what he was going to give to you.

after you're fucked out and tangled in the sheets catching your breath, toji is already slipping on some pants and a shirt, getting ready to give you the second apology. walking over to your side of the bed and kneeling down while putting his hand on your face, cupping your cheek and leaning in, giving you a peck on the lips.

“i'll go get that one place you like, okay mama?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji smut #fushiguro #toji zenin

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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months

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Show me where it hurts (part 2)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

GIF by aenhanse

(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist

summary: You confront Miguel.

warnings: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradation, Miguel eats ass like a fucking champ, general filth etc etc. very very 18+, minors dni (and i will b blocking!)

a/n: thank you for all the support for part 1! I will say, all the comments about relationship building and stuff do make me laugh a little bc this part is literally just p0rn with a teensy tiny bit of feelings.. but if you follow me this should be pretty standard by now.

wc: 4k ish

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You let yourself in again, but not until after pounding on the door.

You think he's home, the scent of something in the air. At first glance, his place is empty, but a mess : cushions ripped off the couch, kitchen ransacked of its contents, floor covered in blankets and clothes. It makes you worry: Miguel is so clean it's scary . He would never leave his place like this. You hear something from his bedroom and rush towards it.

He's there, back turned on the bed. But something's wrong. In sweats and a tank top, he's breathing heavily, clutching at the sheets.

"You shouldn't be here." He strains.

Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?"

All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."

Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat.

"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."

He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"

You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp.

Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive.

It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "

You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?"

He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum.

He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."

You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head.

"What makes it feel better?"

Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-"

"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this?

"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."

"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."

His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-"

"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes.

"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."

He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."

You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter.

You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."

Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it.

"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better."

He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit.

"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "

You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."

It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face.

"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods.

Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause.

"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again.

Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard."

"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me."

"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?"

"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you."

"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand.

How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.

Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help."

Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-"

You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum.

Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy. Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him.

It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips.

"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy.

As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know.

He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry.

"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."

With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure.

"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.

Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong.

You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver.

"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."

" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-"

He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip. Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it.

"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out.

" Miguel, fuuuck."

How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised.

"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit.

He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities.

"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."

You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure.

"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."

With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body.

One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light.

And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back.

Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.

"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this."

You look at him in your haze, brows knitted.

"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though."

"Better , Miggy?"

"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."

You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous.

"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."

As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body.

"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- "

"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature.

"Let-" Smack. " Me-" Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack.

You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell.

'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure.

"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."

Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another.

"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist.

He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.

Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand.

"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another.

"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.

"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?"

Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit.

You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."

~~~

"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious.

The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily.

You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom.

"You didn't either." You throw back at him.

"That's not th-"

"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."

His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-"

"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"

"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you.

"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-"

"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight.

"...I don't understand."

"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."

You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this?

"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichita. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."

With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always.

You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say.

"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."

"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile.

Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to.

"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?"

Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"

"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."

"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."

"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest.

"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."

"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."

"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."

He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.

"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."

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#i lied lmao #lots of feelings #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman 2099 masterlist #spiderman 2099 x reader

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hoshigray · 6 months

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𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦 | ryōmen sukuna

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: totally not writing this to compensate for the fact I haven't posted the Gojo fic yet, hahaha–sorry...Anywhooo, happy jjk Thursday, a lil something for the sukuna devotees~☆ okay, i go suffer irl now, && ty for 3.7k, loves, mwah!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - double penetration (he got 2 dicks) - cowgirl dp position - scratching - cervix fucking - choking - clitoral play (pinch) - tiny praise - he lets you ride him, but still in control (it's Sukuna, cmon now) - pet names (brat, human, pet) - mention of tears and drool.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k

When it comes to dominance, Ryōmen Sukuna knows he radiates that role. As long as there’s air in his lungs, he’ll ensure that dominance never leaves his side. Anything outside of that is practically unfathomable to the King of Curses. He expects everyone to kneel before him and turn his way. Anything that happens outside of that will be dealt with expeditiously.

His aura is suffocating to those around him, humans and curses alike. Every step this large, brawlic creature takes in his path must be noticed within three seconds max. Bowed heads of his subjects meet the ground he walks on — he expects nothing less than that. The smell of fear suffocates them, yet it fuels him. It’s what subjects him from everything and everyone else; that’s what he wants.

Sukuna is a dominant man in every aspect. And you are not subtracted from this at all. You may be the thing that he sees precious value in and holds you up on a pedestal higher than all — for him to look at and him alone.

So, when it comes to you, Sukuna is the dominant role, in and outside his chambers…However, on the rare days he lets you be confident and take control, he lies on his back on the futon with a devilish grin. “Don’t disappoint me, brat.”

Here you are, straddling on top of the four-armed creature, with both the tips of his cock harboring inside your holes before you gradually descend. Your body trembles as it takes every inch of the girth limbs, feeling full despite not reaching halfway down the bases. You use slow breaths to keep you steady, your hands on his stomach where the large tongue teasingly licks your wrists.

You’re allowed ten seconds to adjust to his lengths merged with your body, and that’s it. Any more than that and Sukuna’ll wrap this up himself, wasting this opportunity to show what you’re made of. He’s immensely impatient, and you know this as a fact. So, with a few breaths, you start moving your hips and propel yourself in up and down motions.

The overwhelming feeling of both his cocks bullying your insides is efficient to have you teeter off sanity, the tips grazing the gummy walls of your cunt and anus. With trenched brows and chewed lips, you try to find a rhythm that satisfies the both of you — more so him than you, even if you’re in a position centric to you. “Ahhhh, hahhhh, ‘kuna…You feel ‘o good…Mmmmh…”

“Hmph, you think I’m lying here to satisfy yourself, human? Mmmph…“ Sukuna grunts at the way you sway your hips around, his dicks contracted by your holes perfectly. Good, you’re doing what you’re supposed to. He brings two of his hands to your wrists to keep them on him while the other two rest on your hips. “Shit, pick up the pace, pet. Show me you really want me.”

You do as you’re told for your sake, your ass increasing the speed of your motions. Hushed pants become louder and louder when the cock in your chasm brushes your cervix with precision. The jabs get more and more accurate, and tears well up in your eyes from the contact with your tender canal.

And Sukuna watches you with all fours of his eyes, taking in the entire image of you becoming a mess on top of him. He can see the drool from the corner of your lip stream down, and he knows you want to wipe that down, not wanting the King of Curses to see such indecencies. However, he absolutely doesn’t care. If anything, it amuses him. Your nails digging into his pecs, your stomach trying to shy away from the tongue from his abdomen every time he teases it with licks, and the tears rolling down your cute cheeks. It all makes him snicker, and a flame inside him ignites a carnal feeling he’ll indulge in later on.

Your tempo dials up, grinding your hips down, making him purr. Not moan — purr. You can feel it vibrate within his body through the tip of your fingers. Your body jolts when your clit brushes up against his pelvis. Oh, that felt so good, holy shit. You lean your body down and grind it more; the electrifying sensations from the motion deepen your haze. “Ahhnn, ohhooo—Nnngh!!”

“You only attend to yourself in front of me, huh?” Suddenly, Sukuna brings a large hand to your neck, his thumb, fore, and middle thinner big enough to wrap your neck and clog your breathing. The action has your anus and cunt clench around him desperately. And he sneers. “Dare cum before me, and you’ll be lucky to be alive when I’m through with you tonight.”

That is no threat to be taken kindly — even if you are his little dove, you are no fool to disregard the orders from the King of Curses himself. You’re quick to deescalate the tension, controlling the speed and angles of his cocks to churn your insides further. The constant pokes to your cervix prompt you to keep going — your wails fill the space of his traditional-style chambers when Sukuna’s dark nails pinch and pierce the skin of your hips. The constriction around your neck turns your erotic bliss into high stakes, and your mission now is to bring the behemoth below you to climax. You take the reins be damned; you do as you’re told when you’re told, no matter what.

More purrs and groans from Sukuna result in your appeasement, throwing his head back to the pillow with eyes sewn shut to concentrate on both your holes. The tighter you clench on his cocks, the more his orgasm climbs up. “Hnngh!! Fuck…Take it, brat.” He grips your hips as he bucks to your leaky entrances, his balls smacking up to the sweaty skin of your ass. It takes you aback, your screams only making him rut harsher into you for his dicks to explode their loads into you. White, milky jizz fill your velvety texture and spill down to the hilt of his nether limbs.

Sukuna finally removes his hand from your throat — your silent permission to chase your own high as he experiences his. Thank God, because yours hits you in seconds when the hand he removed travels down to your clit to pinch, and you come instantly. The fluttering agitation from your puckered chasms clamping around his pulsing girths has him his, and your shaky arms do what they can to keep you upright despite your climax.

He watches your trembling figure during the fleeting moments of his climax – his intense red eyes examine you like a piece of art. And when your orbs finally open to look at his, he greets you with another wicked chortle. “That’s a good pet,” he brings one finger to attend to the tears from your eye. And you smile at him with breathless satisfaction.

Sukuna is always and forever will be a dominant man. But on those rare occasions when he allows you to take the reins, he expects nothing but a good job. If so, he’s not opposed to having the change again.

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pseudowho · 8 days

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Papamin's Big Day

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When your first baby was 8 weeks old, she was booked in for her routine vaccinations. You were anxious, tense about seeing your tiny baby in pain.

Kento took the event very seriously indeed. He read all of the latest medical guidance on what to expect before, during and after the vaccinations. He stocked the house with two different types of newborn pain relief. He bought your favourite snacks, certain you'd be stressed and upset.

He booked three days off work, to be there on the day, and for the potential 48 hours of fever afterwards. He reassured you, constantly; the gentle, sincere reassurance of man used to far more stressful situations.

"Darling, she'll be absolutely fine," Kento mumbled into the top of your hair, one enormous hand stroking your trembling back, while the other held your tiny daughter, asleep in her car seat, "She'll hardly feel a thing. She won't remember a thing."

The Nurse was friendly, sweet, and experienced. You twisted your hands as she handed you information leaflets, and Kento nodded, calm and impassive, as she told him all the information he already knew. As the Nurse prepared the three injections, Kento turned to you, one great hand squeezing your thigh.

"I'll hold her?" He asked, and you nodded, mouth puckered as Kento kissed your forehead again. He reached two hands into the car seat, your tiny baby looking so dwarfed in his palms as he lifted her out onto his lap, gently undressing her as she scrunched, squeaking, cradled on his thighs. Kento shushed her, lifting her to his chest, nuzzling his nose into her hair. The picture of calm.

"Alright then! All ready, mummy and daddy?" The Nurse chirped, approaching with a sterile tray of vaccinations. You steeled yourself. Kento nodded, brisk.

It was all over in under ten seconds. Three swift needles, two to one thigh, and one to the other. Your baby girl's pain reaction was delayed for a moment, before she shrieked, a confused little cry, a cacophony of appalled tiny wails.

"Oh-- oh baby, my baby, come here," you cried, your face scrunched as you scooped her into your arms, cradling her under your chin, and bopping her around the room with bum-pats and shushes.

A few moments of tiny newborn cries passed...until you heard one heaving, strangled sob behind you. You turned round to Kento.

Kento stood, shaking as he faced the window, one arm wrapped across his chest to hold his elbow, the other hand cupping his face. You heard barely suppressed sniffles, and quiet gruff breaths.

"Kento, are you--...are you crying?"

"No, no, I'm-- I'm fine," Kento wept, sliding tears away with long fingers. Another sob wracked across his broad shoulders, more tears spilling down his face, sobbing again when his daughter wailed another pained cry.

The Nurse looked from Kento, to you, to Kento, silent as the grave. You walked slowly over to Kento, whose tears began to slow, giving his daughter a watery smile when she looked up at him with a quizzical, tearstained face.

Kento scooped her into his arms, drying his tears on her tiny velvet head. You rubbed Kento's arm, squeezing it, trying to stop your heart from bursting, with a little smile.

"Kento, do you...should we...go and get you a sandwich?" Kento sniffled, giving his daughter a kiss, nodding his thanks to the Nurse.

"Yes, uh...yes. I'd like that. Sorry."

"Don't...dont be sorry."

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teatreeoilll · 2 months

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MDNI! 18 +! lil' smutty Gojo drabble

"There are kids here, you know," Gojo's breath warms your neck an inch away from your ear, making you shudder.

"What?" You fumble back, almost knocking him down in the process.

Gojo straightens up, pulling his blindfold up for one blue eye to peak at you as his lips in a curl smug smirk above your head, "There are kids here. You can't do that."

"Do what?" you puzzle, "I'm just stretching," you say, bending down to feel the pull at your calves. Your fingers reach down to touch the soft grass of the training field.

His brows knit together, gaze firm on the way your ass peeks from the tiny shorts. His thumb caresses his chin as he asks, "Is that as far as you can stretch?"

Ten minutes later and he has you splayed across the desk in his office, pencils rolling off the table from the force of his mean thrusts as he pushes your knees up to almost touch your chin. He was too impatient to take his uniform off, and the fabric rubs against your ass every time his hips snap and his cock pounds into your sweet spot.

"More - " You moan out, your head dizzy as his cock pumps in and out of you frantically.

"More? Fuck - " He pants when you clench around him again, "Then be quiet, the students will hear you - " He releases the arm that held your knee to cover your mouth, "Now take it like a good girl, yeah?"

"Mhmm," you hum, your breath warming the palm of his hand as the heat pools in your abdomen.

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frmisnow · 3 months

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✧˖ ?! — DRIVING SERVICES. - (SUGGESTIVE)

— ‧₊˚ — 🏍 : "y'know you're pretty ungrateful for a person who gets hopped off and picked up to and from work everyday by no other then me.. "??

summary. your boyfriend driving both of y'all a lil carelessly, turns into a bickering sesh which turns into him accussing you of not repaying him enough for his 'driving services' - well oh how wrong he is and how could you prove just that??

notes. FINALLYYY BACK!!!! (it's been ten days but we move), i'm finished with exams FOR NOW and the rest of the week and the next one i'm pretty much free and i rly feel like writing again!! hope you enjoy <3<3

warnings/includes. non idol? jungkook x non specified! reader, established relationship, motorcycling background (duh), they're so bickering i love 'em!! (they're a lil mean to eachother but lovingly), blatant flirting, 'brat' + 'bending over' mentioned

"why can you never just be happy? always have to insult me tsk tsk" jungkook shook his head dramatically, taking of the black dome, running his tattoed hand through his luscious hair somehow managing to make it look straight out of a shampoo ad.

"cause you drive like a fucking maniac, do you even see yourself when you take sharp turns?" he turns around fully, lips parted, eyes wide, making that lil noise of surpise and faint amusement that's a mix of a grunt and an intake of breath as he rolls his eyes when you added: "i see the gates of heaven the second your hands touch the hand clutch"

he opens his mouth and closes it instantly after, a small teny tiny grin on his face, hands slapping the motorcycle seat lovingly like trying to underline his point, "y'know you're pretty ungrateful for a person who gets hopped off and picked up to and from work everyday by no other then me and.... her" he slaps the motorcycle gently once more, raising his eyesbrows, piercings moving slightly - like trying to silently mimick 'you wish that was you huh'

"are you really trying to make me jealous with a motorcycle?" you can't even hide the smile that sneaks its way onto your face, looking into his face, his own lips not quite settling themselves.

"my point still stands- you should repay me more often... for my immaculate driving services" the immediate shift closer to you almost remarkable, his arms pushing through, hands settling on the motorcycle back right behind you- basically trapping you.

his eyes now being the ones not knowing where to settle, moving from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes the second he notices you noticing his tiny dilemma he let out a overly dramatic sigh, like completly careless and unbothered.

"oh i think i'm treating you just fine and i think i'm just grateful enough considering the fact that your driving services are..... best case scenario questionable"

he furrowed his brows, one hand immediately finding his own heart acting like he just got shot, "ouch, you additionaly hurt my feelings each day"

he pauses, looking around the parking lot not far from your apartment, "you act like a brat a little to much sometimes"

you mindlessly toy with the incredibly lose tie around his neck, not failing to hold eye contact, taking your sweet time with responding, "i think that's just what you like actually, you're not even really mad at me rn"

his tongue that was just playing with his lips piercing paused, lips forming into a knowing smirk - you got him all figured out "what makes you believe in that theory?"

"if you actually were, you would've had me bent over the bike already but you don't-" he cut you off straight away, hands beginning to lazily run through your hair, feeling the thin strands between his fingers, "i never even told you why i drive a tiny tiny little bit carelessly sometimes- my mind is just always filled with the things we could do, it's so hard being me"

you rolled your eyes once more, pushing him away from you jokingly, "i wish i had even just a piece of the confidence you have"

he took your hand, instantly walking ahead of you basically pulling you from behind him out the parking lot, making that 'tsk tsk' sound once more, "i'm still considering the bending over by the way-"

some biking terms explained (i googled them all pls correct me if wrong):

'dome' — biker slang for motorcycling helmet 'hand clutch' — basically the steering wheel of a motorcycle

#kpop smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine

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eldritch-thrumming · 3 months

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is it casual now?, pt. one

pt. two

dumb love, i love being stupid, dream of us in a year. maybe we’d have an apartment and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier. i know, “baby, no attachment,” but we’re… knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

“but like… why not just tell him?” robin asks. they’re laying on their backs on steve’s floor, side by side, legs tangled together while a fleetwood record spins out the low sounds of stevie nicks’s voice. “you’re already banging, so what’s the point? you’re practically dating.”

“what? no.” steve replies, taking one last hit from the joint they’ve been passing back and forth before handing it back to robin so she can drop it into the ashtray near her elbow. “it’s not dating. it’s strictly sexual.”

“you’ve never in your life been strictly sexual with anyone,” robin snorts.

steve scowls. this is kind of a sore subject for him because yeah. he’s never done this casual thing before and he’s never really wanted to. he doesn’t even really want to now.

he’s silent for so long that robin’s perfectly capable of understanding exactly what he’s thinking. “oh,” she breathes out. “oh no.”

“stop, please. it was mutual.” steve doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.

“okay. yeah. sure.” steve hates how much she sounds like she’s trying to placate him.

“it’s really not a big deal. it’s fine. we’re having fun. i’m having fun.” steve’s embarrassed by how rehearsed he sounds.

“yeah, no, totally. for sure.”

they lay there without speaking again for a long time after that.

~*~

“god, you’re so cute, stevie, cooking me breakfast.” steve’s standing in front of the stove in his kitchen a few days later when eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, nuzzling into steve’s neck. steve can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“don’t get too used to it,” steve tells him, plating the first batch of french toast. “woke up early enough to eat before work for the first time in, like, three months.”

“well i appreciate it,” eddie says, letting steve turn in his arms. steve can’t help himself; he leans in for a kiss and eddie returns it enthusiastically.

eddie’s never spent the night like this before. usually he’s out of the house before steve wakes up in the morning. most of the time he leaves before they even have the chance to fall asleep together. steve tries not to take it too personally. eddie’s a busy guy and what they’re doing is nothing serious. eddie had been sure to make that clear the first few times they’d seen each other naked.

steve tries not to read too much into it as eddie takes the plate from his hands and pulls himself up to sit on the island countertop just across from where steve’s leaning next to the stove with his own plate. he tries not to get his hopes up but he can’t help the flutter in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach as they eat breakfast together before he has to go to work. he tries his best to ignore the pull he feels toward eddie, the way his hands itch to plant themselves on eddie’s hips and pull him in. he pushes down the disappointment that arises when eddie changes out of the sweats he’d clearly taken from steve’s dresser drawers and back into his own clothes. he ignores the tiny little pang in his chest when eddie says goodbye and leaves, even though steve has to leave for work in ten minutes anyway. he tries to ignore the little voice in his head that points out that eddie doesn’t even kiss him goodbye.

~*~

it goes on like that for a while. eddie starts spending enough nights at steve’s house that steve can’t help but become hopeful. he has his own green toothbrush sitting right next to steve’s red one on his bathroom sink. his hair has started to smell like steve’s shampoo. eddie’s stopped insisting that they’re just casual every time steve leans in for a kiss. sometimes they don’t even fuck, they just fall asleep together watching a movie, with the tv playing softly in the background.

steve’s not delusional. he knows that it’s not a relationship. but that hope is back and he’s helpless against its forces building inside him every time he says goodbye to eddie at his front door. his t-shirts have started going missing, ones with hawkins high emblazoned across the front, ones that he knows robin wouldn’t be caught dead in. eddie’s the only one who could be taking them, but steve can’t figure out why he’s being so secretive about it. he still hasn’t been able to catch him at it. but it has to mean something, right?

steve starts to let himself fantasize about what could happen if he just confessed to eddie. if he just admitted, once and for all, that he’d never wanted to do this whole friends with benefits thing that eddie’s been insisting on. he’s not totally sure that eddie would be a hundred percent receptive, but it’s only happening in his own brain, so he can have the ending he wants for now.

“jesus, dingus, what the hell is going on with you lately?” robin asks, sounding irritated as she comes to stand next to him behind the counter at family video. “i’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes.”

“what? sorry.” steve drags a hand across his face. “just thinking.”

“oh really,” robin snorts. “about what?”

“just…” steve sighs. “remember when we were talking a few months ago?”

robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“i mean, you know. about eddie.” his voice drops into a whisper at the end, as if eddie might be hiding behind one of the vhs displays, even though it’s a tuesday morning and the two of them are alone in the store.

“oh. yes. i remember.” robin sounds just a tiny bit apprehensive.

“well… i think something’s changed.”

“changed? how?”

“i mean, he’s started sleeping over my house a lot more. sometimes we don’t even… you know. have sex.” he whispers the last two words, looking over his shoulder. “i think he’s stealing my t-shirts.”

“okay,” robin draws out the second syllable, elongating the ‘a’ sound, making it clear that steve has to be a bit more specific.

“do you think he… i don’t know. do you think maybe he wants something more? like, maybe to date? or like, whatever.” steve runs a hand through his hair nervously. this is the first time he’s admitting he wants something more out loud.

robin considers for a long moment. “honestly, i don’t know. i’ve never made it past kissing anyone before.” steve’s shoulders slump. “but there’s only one real way to find out.”

“how?” steve grunts, even though he already knows the answer.

“you gotta talk to him, man.” steve groans. “i know, dingus. it sucks.” she reaches out to rub his back, an attempt at comfort.

it almost works.

~*~

steve thinks about it for a few days. about three weeks ago, eddie had started kissing him goodbye every time they parted ways at steve’s front door and he hasn’t missed a goodbye kiss yet. that has to mean something. it has to.

it’s a movie night—eddie’s choice—when steve finally gathers the courage to say something to him.

“can i talk to you?” steve says, sounding far more confident than he actually feels. he’s pulled his legs up under himself on the couch and turned sideways to stare at eddie’s profile.

“um, yeah,” eddie replies a bit distractedly, eyes glued to the tv screen as he reaches for the remote next to him. he pauses the film and only then does he turn to face steve. he smiles, dimples showing. “what’s up, stevie? i don’t pause the thing for just anyone.”

that makes steve feel a little less nervous. it feeds the hope in his chest. he runs a hand through his hair. “okay, well. i was thinking about, like, what we’re doing.”

“what we’re doing?” eddie tilts his head to the side just a little, looking confused.

“yeah, like. you know. you’ve said you want to keep things casual but i was thinking that maybe we could…” steve trails off, unsure of how to continue.

“we could…?” eddie prompts, but he’s starting to look a little apprehensive.

“i mean, i know you said that you don’t really do the non-casual type of thing or whatever, but i was thinking like. i don’t know, that we could, like, go on a date? maybe?” steve hates how unsure he sounds at the end, how his voice turns up at the end.

eddie just looks at him for a long moment. “i thought we were on the same page, steve.”

okay, he’s not ‘stevie’ anymore, but maybe this is just a miscommunication.

“we were,” steve responds, swallowing hard. “i mean, we are. i think.” then he corrects himself. “or, uh, thought.” he looks down at his hands for a second and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i really like you, eddie. and i want… i don’t know what i want but i know that i like you a lot. and i don’t want to be just friends who sleep together.”

“so,” eddie speaks slowly, still looking just a bit confused, “you don’t want to sleep together anymore.” he doesn’t really say it like a question, more like he’s not really all that surprised.

“no, i mean…” steve’s feeling just a little frustrated with himself. “i like that part. that part’s, like, really good. i just… i want more than that.” he runs his hand through his hair again. “i… i guess want to be your boyfriend.”

eddie laughs then and it makes steve’s chest feel hollow. eddie must see something on steve’s face because his laugh cuts off abruptly. “sorry, man. you’re serious?” eddie sounds almost disbelieving. steve can only nod, his throat tight. he definitely does not want to cry in front of eddie right now. “oh. well. um. i don’t really…” steve’s heart drops and the little bubble of hope that had been building since that first time eddie had stayed for breakfast abruptly bursts. “i’m sorry, dude, i genuinely thought we were on the same page. i’m not—that’s just—” eddie clears his throat. “that’s just not really something i want.”

steve has nothing to say to that. he supposes that eddie had been honest from the beginning and that he was the one who hadn’t been truthful so he can’t even really be mad.

“right,” steve responds, avoiding eddie’s eyes. “sure, okay.”

“i think i’m gonna go for now. but i’ll see you around, okay, stevie?” steve’s eyes snap up to eddie’s face and eddie’s eyes are wide and panicked. he looks like a cornered deer. a part of steve can’t help but feel sorry for putting that look on eddie’s face.

“yeah, okay. see you.” steve tries to smile at him, maybe to reassure him, but eddie doesn’t even look at him as he gathers his shoes and keys before leaving.

once eddie’s gone, steve sits there for a long moment, wondering where he’d gone wrong. maybe he should have waited until a little bit later, when they were upstairs tangled up together and he could distract eddie with kisses. maybe he should have waited until breakfast, when eddie’s soft and sweet, warm from sleep. maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

steve turns off the tv and goes upstairs to bed alone for the first time in a while.

there’s a part two already half written so no worries, i only write happy endings (except that one time).

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb

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sp0o0kylights · 4 months

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Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting.

It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read.

He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover.

They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word.

(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.)

Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school.

Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington.

Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college.

Steve knows Eddie’s gay.

Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.

He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real.

It's flash. Showmanship.

It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him.

So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?

Eddie panics.

His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him.

He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him.

Not when it comes to running, anyway.

Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor.

The urge is still there.

To run, and save face the cowards way.

Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again.

(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)

A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts.

Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway.

One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…

Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has bat-like, vicious animals on it.

Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with!

Steve looks up from the zine and startles.

For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard.

It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie.

He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest, and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.

“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.”

“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is.

They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.

“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?”

Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands.

“Oh!”

Steve holds it up, as if to show it off.

“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.”

Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting.

“You know what Star Trek is?”

“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?”

He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.

“This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”

Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension.

He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it.

Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?

Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine.

“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.”

He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is.

“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively.

“You like it?” Eddie asks.

“Mmm.”

“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…”

Steve's frowning at him again. “What?”

“It's queer man. It's really queer.”

Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows.

“I know. Wait, how do you--”

And well. It’s now or never.

“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.

“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?

(It does not.)

“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.”

Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.

Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in.

Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--)

There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.

It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air. Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again.

They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.

This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name.

‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’ but--

Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face.

Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened.

He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief.

Steve looks at him.

“What?”

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!”

“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope.

He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right.

Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope.

“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!”

“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.

Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face.

“So...Kirk and Spock huh?”

“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table.

The zine he keeps in his hands.

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?”

“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!”

Which is news to Eddie.

“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart.

Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction.

“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,”

Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?”

“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!”

“You did! Robin told you!”

“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”

“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”

“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.”

They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.)

“You really like it though?” Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand.

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke.

“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?”

Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip.

“That’d be cool.”

(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?”

“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.”

“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.”

“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.”

“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.

Oh.

Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day.

At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.)

#steddie #pre steddie #eddie reads star trek slash fiction #kirk/spock #mentioned anyway lol #Steve Harringtons Terrible Fucking Eyesight #(me too buddy me too)#steve harrington #eddie munson #zines #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

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neuvistar · 11 months

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HONKAI STAR RAIL MEN AS FATHERS! pt one.

— featuring ┊jing yuan, blade, dan heng, gepard x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊hsr men as fathers !! mostly fluff ! SPOILERS ON BLADE’S (?) PART, not proofread i think, you r married to them here, a little angst on blade’s but it’s nothing much, mentions of pregnancy, blade referred to as “ren”, them being absolute sweethearts </3 overall just fluff! | pt two. (luocha, luka, welt, sampo) pt three. (aventurine, dr ratio, argenti, boothill, sunday gallagher)

— a/n ┊oh my days i’m sooo obsessed w these, i love thinking abt them too like okayyy.. strong jing yuan + gepard best father believer !! I ALREADY MADE A SEPARATE TAG 4 THIS TOO SO I CAN RAMBLE ABT IT W MY PRECIOUS FOLLOWERS, ANONS N MOOTS !! </3 you could tell i had fun writing gepards (i rlly did)

best papa #1. jing yuan (DILF DILF DILF!)

- JING YUAN would be such an amazing father, it’s like it’s natural to him, he’s one of the sweetest n most supportive ones !! when he found out about your pregnancy he would spin you around in his arms, kissing the temple of your forehead whispering “i love you”s under his breath. hes such a dilf too jesus fuck

- JING YUAN would have three kids (jesus christ) two girls n one boy, HE WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD DAD N I KNOW IT! he’s so patient and gentle with you during your pregnancy, and he was even more patient n gentle w his own kids, he loves them very much. he would be willing to teach his children everything, he would help them with their swordsmanship skills and even help out with other things, he’s such a good papa it hurts, he’s so gentle with your children, he’s an absolute natural! it’s like he was meant to be a dad almost

- JING YUAN who would be protective over his kids but not too protective, he loves seeing them all free, especially when they were just little cute babies. his eldest daughter loved running around his office, tugging at his clothes and asking him to play with her.

“dadddd! play with me noww! brother and sister wants to play too, we’ve been waiting for ten minutes like you said, but it already passed!”

“not now, princess.” his lips melted into a soft grin, giving his daughter a small pat on the head. “how about this, how about you and your siblings accompany daddy while he works, ‘that sound good?”

- JING YUAN who tries his best to make his children happy, i bet he’s the type to sing small little lullabies for them to help them sleep, rocking his little son in his arms as he has his small little fingers around his. he’s great with animals as well, he would take his children to a little adventure one day and have them hold and feed the birds that are always around him, nibbling on their tiny hands as he guides them, helping them try and feed it.

“go on, try and feed him. he doesn’t bite, he’s not scary either right? dad’s here to protect you, remember?

- JING YUAN who would talk to his children when they were still in your womb, telling them stories about his life, his adventures and telling them how beautiful their mommy was. jing yuan would consider this as his daily routine, he loved talking to his little ones even before they were born!

“hey princess. daddy loves you so much, y’know that?”

“daddy is excited to meet you too sweetheart, yes he is. but try not to give your mother a hard time, okay?“

best papa #2. blade

- BLADE who never thought he’d ever become a dad because of the life he lives, so much regret and grief in his heart so therefore he would start off a bit rocky, he was a bit unsure and didn’t quite understand the aspects of being a father and that worried him so much. he was terrified of not fulfilling his duties and responsibilities as a father but you always reassured him that he’s doing the best he can and that’s what truly matters.

“ren honey, she can’t support the weight of her own head, you know?”

“.. she can’t?”

oh boy.. he had a lot to learn.

- BLADE would probably have one kid! HE WOULD HAVE A DAUGHTER IM CONFIRMING THAT RN. your little princess is almost bound to look like him! she’s like a mini version of blade as she has the same hair, same eyes, etc! aaa it’s so cute! he thinks so too, he just doesn’t have the balls to actually admit it. his little princess would think of her papa as the strongest person in the world! it’s adorable honestly, she wants to be just like him, big and strong!

- BLADE who would be extremely overprotective over his daughter, he would have a very soft spot for her too. he would give everything his all to secure her knowledge about the current life he was living right now as a stellaron hunter, he knew he wasn’t the best, but he was willing to change for you and his child. yet, it still worried him. it still worried him that maybe one day his daughter will eventually find out about his past and follow his exact footsteps, everyday he prays nothing like that happens, he wants her to do good, not bad. he doesn’t want her to fall in the same path he went before.

- BLADE who honestly didn’t expect to have a child himself, so when he was caught right handed carrying a small little child in his arms, kafka and silver wolf would doubt him at first, asking him if this was just another child he found in the middle of the streets, shocked to find out he was acc a father n he wasn’t messing w their heads again skull emoji

“that’s.. that’s your kid?!”

“yeah.”

“she looks just like you..”

“are you sure you aren’t messing with us? you actually had sex?!”

“.. could you have worded that a better way?”

- BLADE who would find comfort in his own family, making a promise to himself that he would absolutely devote his love to you and his little princess, he would do everything to protect you and her, even if it means risking his everything for the both of you. but yet.. he still thinks about how he’ll eventually watch you and his little princess die while he lives on, for eternity. he wants to bask in the presence of his beloveds for as long as he could, he would break the curse of his immortality if he could, just so he see his loved ones die, no.. not again. he can’t afford to see the two most important people of his life die, once again. but he knew, his fear would come true eventually.

best papa #3. dan heng

- DAN HENG is a SWEETHEART. tbh hes a a lil confused but he’s trying + he’s learning! he also never expected he would ever have a child of his own, he doubted his own abilities at first but he got the hang of it as it flows through, he’s an outstanding father too! he’s just a lil confused but he’s got the spirit

- DAN HENG would probably have multiple kids, about two! one girl and one boy. when his first child was born, he felt a wave of happiness and relief wash through his body as he was finally taking in one of the biggest responsibilities there is, he promised himself he would do his best for you and his kids, and he really kept his promise! he does try his best and tries his hardest to give them the utmost care and support, he loves his pretty wife and his kids sm and it shows

- DAN HENG would have good hearing! when his young ones were still little babies, he would usually be the first one to aid them whenever they wake up in the middle of the night crying, gently rocking them in his arms until they fall asleep in his arms, their small hands on his shirt. so cute <3

- DAN HENG who would help his kids fall asleep by sitting or laying by their side and watch them sleep, maybe he would hum a tone or two.. he just can’t comprehend the fact that he was the father of these kids, he treasures them sm and you notice it, he’s just so so sweet to you and your kids

“dan heng?” you would call, entering the room of your kids before seeing your husband laying on the edge of the bed, arm over the two young ones as a gentle grin forms on your face as you shut the door, god. you married the right man.

- DAN HENG who just wants the best for his kids, he would come off as too overprotective sometimes and it might look like he was angry but in reality he just wants the best for them and wants to keep them safe.

“i thought i told the both of you not to go there.”

“.. but daddy you didn’t say that! that’s no fair!”

dan heng crouched down to his daughter’s level, eyeing her and his son down. “daddy doesn’t want you both to get into trouble. plus, you could easily get hurt or stepped on from some big monster.”

“dan heng, stop scaring the kids.” you crossed your arms, before a tug on your shirt was made,

“no no mommy, it’s not scary! because we know that daddy is always gonna be there to save us!” dan heng grinned, pulling his two younglings in a tight hug. he really does hope he can fulfill that, he wants to be there for them after all.

best papa #4. gepard landau

- GEPARD is such a girl dad, he would have three little princesses! gepard is surprisingly a good dad, like i said he’s a such a girl dad he would cherish and love his princesses (including you <3) until the end of time, he’s such a good dad it makes my heart melt, he would probably ramble about the fact he has three daughters to serval, HES SOOO SWEET ABT IT TOO. “mhm mhm. i have three princesses in my household!” is what he would say, he loves his daughters smmm HES A GIRL DAD U CANNOT TRLL ME OTHERWISE. speaking of serval, she would be an amazing aunt i know it!

- GEPARD is such a loving and doting father! when his first daughter was born he probably thanked every star in the whole universe for this amazing gift that was brought upon him and you, HE LOVES YOU AND HIS DAUGHTERS SM BRO. he can be a bit overprotective and it might lead him to seem a bit controlling but he doesn’t mean to be or sound controlling in the first place, it’s only because he wants his daughters to be safe, he knows how bad the world can be and he doesn’t want anything to happen to them.

- GEPARD who is willing to style his daughters’ hair, honestly you wondered where he inherited his skills from since he’s such a natural at it! (he got it from serval) sometimes you’ll even see one of your daughters in cute little pigtails held up in cute little pink bows, it’s so adorable to you!

“who did your hair baby? it looks great today.”

“daddy did!” when she said that, gepard would probably be eavesdropping from the kitchen, a huge stupid smile on his face <3

- GEPARD who does his best to protect his wife and his children, sometimes you would tell stories to your kids about how amazing gepard really is, and how he’s the captain of the silvermane guards! i bet if they still had fears over little things like monsters under their beds etc your daughters would always go to gepard so he can “fight” the monsters off, gepard finds it so adorable how go to him whenever they’re scared, because he knows he can protect them from anything <3

- GEPARD probably has a daughter that looks up to him a lot, trying to follow in his footsteps. when his little daughter was little, she would sometimes sneak out from her room and sometimes catch him training, doing weird motions with his hands she didn’t quite get and copy him! she views gepard as “the strongest hero in the whole universe”

“daddy daddy! look look, it’s a drawing of me in your armour! one day i’ll be just like you, brave and strong!”

the blonde’s gaze softened, a low chuckle leaving his chest as he picked her up from the ground planting a quick kiss on her nose. “you’re already brave and strong, princess. you’re just as brave and strong as daddy is”

he’s such a girl dad ugh i love those men

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roosterforme · 14 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

-------------------------

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

-----------------------------

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

-------------------------

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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peaktora · 3 months

Text

𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ instead of sleeping, satoru and your daughter argue over what to name her stuffed dragon.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊1.9k words. established relationship (#married). the toddler dialogue is purposefully not structured correctly since it’s words from a toddler. fem!reader. intended lowercase. warning: you will wish you had a kid with gojo after reading this.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊this was gonna be a basic thought post, but i got more and more interested in the concept and was like “y’know what? fuck it, ima just make this into a full fic.” so here we are with a more full look at dad!gojo <3.

satoru mumbles, "but i think he likes being called spike,” and it's obvious that he's sulking. you don't even have to look up from your book to confirm it.

“well, you don't know him like i do!” your daughter replies, tucking herself into your side.

you flip through the picture book's pages fast, just getting brief glances of its colorful illustrations. unicorns, dragons, knights, and princesses decorated the pages. after turning the last page, you sigh and put the book down on the nightstand. despite the fact that the book was designed for toddlers, it actually looked interesting. you just know you would love to read it to your toddler. you can imagine yourself reading it to her, seeing the excitement on her face as she explores the world of fantasy—her absolute favorite genre.

but unfortunately, that image in your head will have to wait for another day, because her attention? is completely taken by the debate between her and her father.

how the argument started is beyond you. just ten minutes ago, you and satoru were snuggled up on your daughter’s bed, trying to read her to sleep. and now? satoru and her are in a heated debate over what to name her stuffed dragon. it's tough not to be amazed at how something so easy can become so complicated with him.

"i bought him, drove him around in my car, and wrapped him up in a cute little box for you. i think we know each other pretty well.” satoru smiles and reaches across the bed for the dragon.

“nuh-uh! he not even like you!” your toddler, with her tiny hands and puffed cheeks, clutches her stuffed dragon tightly against her chest. the plushie, its vibrant green scales and friendly eyes, seemed to come alive in her hold.

he retreats back to his seat on the edge of your daughter's bed, his lips curled into a frown as he asks, "how come?"

her mouth opens, then closes again. you look away for a moment to give satoru a look of disapproval, and by the time you return your attention to her, her brows are already starting to furrow. she mumbles under her breath, "because," running her small fingers around the plush dragon’s ear. she looks to be at a loss for words, as if she hasn't come up with an answer to satoru's question.

but that's okay, since you—happily, do.

"because you’re taking his time away from storytime. and satoru, in case you didn't know? when it's time to go to bed, we have storytime.”

your daughter looks up, her face beaming as she screams, "yup! and mommy picks the super-duper bestest stories ever!"

satoru gasps, his eyes never leaving yours as he rises from his bed and holds his chest. "baby, who's side are you on?"

you roll your eyes, "i'm just sa—"

"oh, sweetheart," he mumbles as he rushes around the corner of the bed, his movements quick to reach your side. without wasting a second, he rests a palm on your forehead, checking your temperature with a clear look of false concern. concerned people don’t have to hold back the urge to smile. actually, they don't have a smile at all—but for some reason, satoru does, and he's terrible at hiding it. "are you sick? having some hallucinations? is that why you've decided to side with enemy?”

your daughter giggles, and it only feeds satoru's act.

he turns his head towards the source of the giggles. a playful pout forms on his lips as he teasingly asks, "or did this little munchkin of ours use her princess magic to change your mind? she has a way of doing that to me sometimes, y’know."

his free hand reaches towards your toddler, fingers wiggling in anticipation. as his fingers make contact with your little one's soft, ticklish skin, even more giggles slip past her lips.

she tries to squirm away from his touch, but that's when he adds another hand to the tickle fest, and all chance of escape is gone. at that point, she visibly gives up, curling into herself to try to halt her dad’s tickling.

“i-i don’t have powers, daddy!” you daughter manages to stifle out through her laughs. you smile at the sound—it’s one you'll never get tired of hearing.

"you can't be a princess without powers! every princess has powers!"

“i-i'm n-not a princess though!“

satoru's fingers pause in their spot, his eyes widening in disbelief. "not a princess? how on earth can that even be?"

you’re sure if she needed him to, he could easily write an entire book about how she’s a princess.

he scoops her up from her place next to you, careful not to let her dangling legs hit you in the process. she lands on his hip, her eyes fixated on him as he lovingly whispers, "you're daddy's little princess!" he pauses, then adds, "and mommy is the queen, so that makes me—"

“the king?”

“you’re just so smart, huh? see, a perfect quality of a princess.”

“but princesses have dragons! big ones with so many pretty colors and names! they go—“ she cuts herself off and raises her tiny arms high. with a wide smile on her face, she takes a deep breath and lets out a loud roar.

satoru nods and smiles warmly at her, "oh, i see...well, y’know what? not all princesses have dragons.”

she tilts her head, and you awe at the sight. “they don’t?”

"nope," he says, taking her tiny hand in his, wrapping it securely around his finger. he lightly massages the back of her hand, and it’s soothing—scratch that, reassuring. you can tell from the way your daughter leans her head on his shoulder, tucking herself in the crook of his neck. "you don't need a dragon to be a princess. you're my princess ‘cause you're kind, smart, and full of love. i'd say that's all you need to be one."

"really?" she asks, waiting for his nod before continuing. "okay…but i still want a dragon."

"i get it, munchkin," he hums as he takes the dragon plushie from the bed. "we still haven't figured out a name for this guy, hm?"

“nuh-uh!”

“he looks like his power is being super cuddly. he's so cuddly that he puts you right to sleep…how ‘bout…fluffy?"

“ew.”

“fluffy sounds cute, no?”

"but dragons aren't cute. daddy, they breathe fire."

"wel—" satoru begins, but your daughter interrupts.

“his name should be fireball!”

“satoru, she does have a point,” you assert.

she really did. it was a dragon, not something adorable, but something that’s usually thought of as a villain—or a protector. athough deep down, a part of you just wanted this little debate to finally wrap up so you could finally catch some much-needed sleep.

“i thought i took away all of her princess magic?” satoru frowns, "stop siding with the enemy!"

you can't help but snort at his comment. mostly because, for whatever reason, he’s taking this dispute very seriously. so seriously that he doesn't seem to notice you're trying to do anything to finally get to bedtime. "baby i was just sa—"

"who says this dragon had to breathe fire anyways?" he interrupts.

when your toddler goes to respond, it hits you. "what about fluffy fireball?" you mention. it's a perfect combination of the two. well, okay, maybe not a “perfect” combination, but it's good enough to finish this debate.

if you weren't so tired, you’d stop and ogle the way they ask "huh?" in sync.

you shrug, "well, why not? he is pretty fluffy and spits out fire. there can’t be a better name than that."

your daughter holds out the dragon, looks at it for a while, then brings it up to her ear.

she gives the impression that he’s nodding his head before hushedly saying, "got it." she then turns back to face you and yells confidently, "fluffy fireball agrees!”

"well, i don't agree," satoru huffs. "the name is way too long an—"

“satoru.”

“but—“

"satoru," you say more firmly, and his shoulders sink as he mumbles "okay" beneath his breath.

your daughter lets out a yawn, and your eyes are immediately drawn to her. you signal for satoru to come over to the bed, and he does, bending down to your level.

“is my girl sleepy?”

"um," she pauses and looks at her dragon. "just a little bit."

"i can tell," you say, gently rubbing her back. you sneak a quick glance at your husband, and he looks the other way because he knows it's way past her bedtime. you sit up next to her ear and murmur, "i think fluffy fireball is ready to go to sleepy-time."

she gives the dinosaur a look before asking him, "y’wanna sleep with me?” then, she shakes the dinosaur's head up and down before exclaiming, "okay!"

you watch as she leaps out of satoru’s arms, and plops down on the bed. the room fills with giggles and the creaking of the bed as she scampers towards the middle. once she's next to you, she settles in and gets comfortable.

you can't help but smile as you see her tiny hands reaching out, playfully fluffing the pillows around her. then finally, with a satisfied sigh, she snuggles under the covers, cocooning herself in warmth.

she sets her dragon on her left side, making sure her loyal companion is there to do his job and look after her (the princess). it’s cute really. however, if that dragon becomes even a little bit too comfortable with the job, you know satoru will undoubtedly compete for the position. he'd say, "it can't just show up one day and take my job," or something along those lines. knowing him, he might even contemplate throwing it away—who knows.

you’re jolted out of your trance when your daughter asserts to her dinosaur, "you can sleep on daddies side, he snores."

satoru gasps, “i do not—“

“yes you do!”

“when have i eve—“

"guys," you sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your voice. you cast a glance at both of them, making sure you have their undivided attention before pressing on. "c'mon, let's all take a breather and save the debate about your dad's snoring for tomorrow, okay?"

"but mommy, tell him he snores!" she whines. "he goes—" she cuts herself off to mimic satoru's snoring, and his face is priceless.

"now that’s just rude. how can you speak to me so coldly?” satoru scurries underneath the covers on the side of the dragon. and just like that, your daughter and her dragon are nestled between the two of you.

“this’ll be settled in a family meeting tomorrow. you two have already had one debate today. so right now? lets all go to bed.” you declare, then nestle deeper beneath the covers, closing your eyes.

as the voices of saddened "okays" and "alrights" blend together, a collective sigh fills the room. the sound of a click follows, and even with your eyes closed, the absence of light is unmistakable. it makes you feel even more exhausted than before.

you feel satoru’s arm slide around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. meanwhile, your daughter stirs slightly, searching for a more comfortable position in the cozy space between the two of you. you can feel her movements, her small body nestled snugly against yours.

you snuggle impossibly closer to your pillow, and take a deep breath.

silence, that’s what follows—and it’s nothing but peaceful. that is, until satoru bursts out laughing. "i don't snore," he blurts out into the darkness, his voice filled with mischief. "i just provide a little background music for the night."

it's at this point that you decide to be extremely biased at the family meeting tomorrow. he’s not winning a damn thing.

#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ #i think this is the cutest scenario i’ve came up with #and the best part is that it’s 100% cannon (bc i said so)#gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo headcanons #gojo scenarios #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons

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