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#but the second time after the movie they get married for love
sooniebby · 2 days
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first of all I hope you’re feeling okay and are properly enjoying your break. :)
second of all… imagine being neighbors with a married couple that loves to make each other jealous. the wife offers you a gift basket on your second day of living in your new house and invites you over for tea every now and again. the husband meets you by where your mailboxes are sitting next to each other every other day and ruffles your hair affectionately. the wife purposely wears blouses that show off a little too much cleavage and puts on her scarlet red lipstick whenever she knows you’re coming. the husband is always touching you in some way, either it be his hand on your shoulder or your legs grazing ever so slightly, and speaks in a gruff, sultry voice.
imagine how you were originally just a stepping stone for them to have hot, passionate and jealous sex at least once a week. but when time passed by and the more they spend time around you, the more they realize that this dynamic was too good to pass up on.
imagine how their priorities shift from having something to get off on to integrating you into their relationship. them asking you to join them for dinner so often that you spend more meals at their place than your own. them sandwiching you between them on the couch, watching movies all night long. them pouring you a glass of wine, and then another. and another. until you’re too drunk to know what’s what and then dragging you into their bedroom. them having at it with you for hours on end, not stopping even when you start shooting blanks.
imagine waking up the morning after. covered in bruises, hickeys and smudged lipstick. you’re shocked, confused—until you feel that you’re sandwiched between two weights. looking up, you’re even more shocked to see that they’re the nice couple next door, just as naked as you were and looking mighty happy with themselves.
ugh the concept gives me so much brainrot bro it’s insane.
Damn… this is a whole story— crazy as hell…
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ladykailitha · 1 day
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Sweet Home Indiana Part 3
Shit! I can't believe I forgot to post this this morning! I don't know where my head was, honestly.
I'm reaching a point where I'm running out of plot so I don't think this story is going to be longer than 10 chapters max. A lot of the second half of the movie takes place over months as the main character gets ready to marry the rich bachelor, only for her to find out that her husband signed the divorce papers and she forgot ON HER WEDDING DAY (as in she was informed on her wedding day that she forgot). Which really won't work for this story.
So yeah, I suspect to be finished with this story sooner rather than later.
Eddie does have to do a lot of grovelling but he unfortunately gets worse before he gets better. He's really REALLY dumb in this, okay?
TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY
Part 1 Part 2
****
Eddie watched Steve walk away and he gently put the brownie back into the box.
Fuck.
His stomach churned as he swallowed down the bite in his mouth. He had forgotten so much about the man he once swore to love until the end of his days. But he remembered that look of absolute betrayal before the mask dropped.
So Eddie did what he was good at when times got tough, he ran. He was supposed to have been trying to convince Steve to come with him, but he had fucked it up so badly there was no coming back from that.
The worst part is that there had been a few times in the last decade where Eddie could have healed what was between them, that he could have reached out and gotten back in touch. But Eddie had ran each time.
He wouldn’t say each time ended in a rushed marriage, but two of them definitely did.
Eddie would think about reaching out only to hear about how well Steve was doing from Dustin or Max and how happy he was and Eddie would run out a marry the first guy who would fuck him.
The other times he would think about contacting Steve and some small trouble (or not so small in the case of his band breaking up) would crop up and he be scrambling to keep his head above water.
Steve was thriving here in Hawkins and wasn’t that just a kick to the head. He had a little bakery that was doing well, Robin was here, and if all the times the kids called Eddie were any indication, Steve was still on speaking terms with all of them.
He needed a fucking drink. He didn’t care that it was only a little after noon, he needed to turn off his brain. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bakery.
“I thought I recognized the van,” a warm voice said. “Were you gonna tell me you were in town?”
Eddie looked around before he spotted his Uncle Wayne, leaning up against the side of the building.
“Wayne!” he cried and threw his arms around his neck.
Wayne hugged him back. “It’s good to see you kid.”
“Of course I was going to tell you I was in town,” Eddie scoffed. “I was just trying to take care of something first.”
Wayne looked behind him at the bakery and raised an eyebrow. “You coming back to make an honest man out him or are you setting to break his heart?”
“Why are you on his side?” Eddie whined. “Yes, I said some pretty stupid shit, but he wasn’t blameless in all the fuckery that went down.”
Wayne’s expression softened. “I know.” He put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk about why you’re in town.”
“Mmk,” Eddie said weakly, letting Wayne lead him down the street to the nearby diner.
****
Steve was hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole in the world and he still looked like sex on legs.
That funny little lopping walk he did when he wanted to move fast but didn’t want to run.
The long hair in waves around his face. His lean body stuffed into the tightest pair of jeans Steve had ever seen and he used to wear tight jeans for fuck’s sake. The god damn eyeliner on his big doe eyes.
And peaking out of the leather jacket were even more tattoos. Which it made sense considering he was some hot shot tattoo artist up in Seattle. But still! It wasn’t fair that the man who broke his heart wasn’t fat and balding at thirty. Nooooo...he had to come back to blue his balls as well as break his heart.
“Do I need to break his balls?” Robin asked coming back from the freezer. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Not at Steve specifically, but glared at the situation in general.
Steve gave a kind of hiccuping laugh and his lungs filled with the air he desperately needed.
“No,” he said with a broken smile. “I handled it. I’m just going to send it to Hal to make sure he’s not trying to take me to the cleaners or some other bullshit.”
Robin nodded. Hal Peterson was their business attorney, but he’d know enough to make sure Steve wasn’t being shafted by the whole ordeal.
“So what’s got you around the twist?” she asked.
“He looks hotter now than he did before he left,” Steve whined. “He’s supposed to balding and fat and falling apart at the seams. But no...he’s leaner, still with those long ridiculous curls, and better put together than I was.” He waved a hand at himself. His hair was greasy from standing around a hot oven, his hands and apron were covered in flour, he had frosting on his nose.
Robin came over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and he let out a little sob.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “Are you going to be okay?”
He let out a shuddering sigh. “Probably not until he blows out of town again.”
Robin kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go out to the Hideout tonight. The shop will be fine. We handled today, we can handle tomorrow, too.”
Steve let out a shuddering sigh and nodded into her stomach.
“Good,” she stepped back and cupped his cheeks. “I know this sucks but you are the strongest, most capable person I’ve ever met. A weaker man would crumble under all this, but that person is not you. You understand me?”
He let out another shuddering sigh. “Thanks, Robs. I needed that.”
“I know you did, dingus,” she said fondly. “So lets knock today out of the ballpark, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
****
“I was hoping,” Eddie was telling Wayne, “that I could roll into town, get him to sign the divorce papers, and spend the rest of the week with you. But no, he’s being a stubborn ass.”
Wayne snorted. “You always did aim too high.”
“I thought he’d want to be rid of me,” Eddie huffed. “I’ve done nothing but run around all over this god forsaken country just to put some distance between me and him. I’ve hurt him in every possible way. I thought he was just wanting closure you know, calling me into town like he did.”
Wayne furrowed his brow. “He called you into to town?”
Eddie nodded and placed his chin on his hands on the table. “I was a bit of an ass about it because I didn’t explain things to Chrissy, but yeah. He told me that if I wanted to divorce him so bad, I’d have to come back to Hawkins and do the job proper.”
The waitress came set Wayne’s food down and Eddie sat up so she could do the same for him.
Wayne waited until she was gone before he turned back to Eddie. “When you told me you were marrying Chrissy, I was more than a little surprised.”
Eddie rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know. I have my reasons, I just can’t tell you yet. But I promise it’s for a good reason.”
“He’s done really well for himself here,” Wayne said softly.
“And I haven’t?” Eddie spat out a tad too bitterly.
Wayne scowled. “Did I say you hadn’t, boy?” he snapped.
Eddie’s head reared back from the shock of his normally mild mannered uncle to snap at him. He shook his head, his lip beginning to quiver.
“I’m on your side,” Wayne said, to Eddie’s scoff. “I know I keep hyping up Steve, but I remember what you two were like when things were good, son. You were incandescent. But I look at you now and that sparkle has gone. I want to be happy for you, but first you’ve got to show me that you’re happy for yourself.”
“You don’t think I’m happy?” Eddie asked in confusion. “I have my own tattoo shop, I’m going to marry a great girl, and I’m still friends with most of the members of my band. What’s not to be happy about?”
Wayne shrugged. “You tell me.”
Eddie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”
Wayne dug his thumbs into his belt and licked his top lip nice and slow. Eddie ignored him and just stabbed at his food.
“Kiddo,” Wayne said, shaking his head, “you’re still in love with that boy even with these ten years gone.” His chin jutted up to point to Eddie’s food.
Eddie froze with his fork half way to his mouth and then looked down at his plate. It took him a full minute to realize what Wayne was talking about.
“Oh.”
He had ordered the breakfast platter. It had hash browns, scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, and sausage with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. But Eddie didn’t like hash browns or sausage. He would give them to Steve who did.
He thought about the little box that was sat next to him on the bench and the brownie Steve had concocted for him so long ago.
Eddie swallowed thickly, his stomach turning sour as he stared at the hash browns and sausage he was never going to eat.
“Eat up,” Wayne said with a soft smile. “You don’t want it to go to waste.” He scooped up the hash browns and put them on his plate and then stabbed both sausage.
He dipped the first sausage into his over easy eggs, ignoring Eddie’s turmoil. At least for the moment.
Eddie brought the fork all the way to his mouth and chewed, not really tasting it.
He ate through most of the food that way, until it came to the pancakes. He moaned happily.
“Seattle just doesn’t make pancakes the way Benny does,” he said softly.
Wayne’s smile was no less tender this time, but infinitely more fond. “You could always come back to Hawkins. You can set up a tattoo shop anywhere, so why not here?”
Eddie shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to Steve. Divorce his ass and then move back into town with Chrissy in tow, shoving it in his face that I moved on.”
“I can see that,” Wayne murmured. “I just miss my boy is all and would love to see you more often than I get.”
Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you do. And I would like you to meet Chrissy before the wedding.”
“I’d like that too.”
****
Tag List: CLOSED
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2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie
3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666
4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690
6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt
8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @blackpanzy
9- @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras @swimmingbirdrunningrock
10- @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites @mac-attack19
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
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Ben's mother
Rhett's girlfriend has a child. She had him before she met Rhett, but he still made them a part of his family (which is fine bc the Abbotts love them).
Set outside of the events of the show where everyone is thriving (except Perry he doesn't deserve to thrive)
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"Ganma!"
Cecilia Abbott turned away from the lunch she was preparing to catch the young boy running towards him.
He was so small, Cecilia was glad she could still pick him up and place him on her hip. She dreaded him getting any bigger.
He wrapped his arms around her neck as Cecilia looked towards the boys mother. "Hey," she said to Cecilia with a grin as she came over to grab Ben from her arms. "Sorry, he ran out ahead of me."
Cecilia waved her off as she sat Ben on the table. "Oh, you know it's no problem, honey," she said, dropping what she was doing to get Ben some snacks. "What have you guys been up to?" She asked, but she was talking directly to Ben.
Ben filled Cecilia in on the dog he'd met that morning as his mother looked out of the window, looking across the land. It was so incredibly impressive, she couldn't believe this was where her partner had grown up.
"They should be coming in for lunch soon," Cecilia said and returned to making lunch for everybody, all while still talking to Ben. She was so good with him, the entire Abbott family was. "Do you guys want anything?"
She and Ben had been apart of the Abbott family for so long now that she couldn't imagine a time before them.
"Ganma," Ben began as he swung his legs. "Is Amy here?"
Ben loved Amy like a big sister. If he wasn't running to Cecilia or Royal (he loved when Royal had a chance to take him to see the cows), he was running to Amy to play toys with her or watch a movie with her.
"Sorry, sweetie," said Cecilia as she gave Ben one of the juice boxes she kept in the fridge just for him. "She'll be back soon."
All of the Abbott's came back soon. Amy came running in first. She sat at the kitchen table and Ben sat beside her as Cecilia placed their lunch in front of them.
The boys walked in, Perry first. He kissed Amy on the head and took his usual seat. Royal was next, he sat at the head of the table, but wasn't given much time to rest from his morning of work as Ben began talking at him.
Talking. And talking. And talking. And talking.
Cecilia was ganma, and Royal was ganpa.
Last but not least, Rhett walked in. His eyes landed on her and he immediately strode over. "Hey," she said, but he just pressed his lips to her own.
"Eww!" The kids called as she smiled against Rhett's lips.
He smiled back, hand on his hips. "I missed you," he said with that sexy deep voice of his.
"I missed you too," she said and played with his hair, knocking his cap slightly. For just a second, they forgot anybody else was in the room with them, consumed by each other.
Cecilia placed a plate down for Rhett and he finally pulled away from her. "Hey, little man," he said as he took off his cap and placed it on Ben's head.
"Rhett!" He called. "Can we go see the horses today?"
The smile Rhett wore turned sad as he sat down opposite Ben. Ben had never called him dad. He called Cecilia and Royal 'ganma and ganpa', but he'd never called Rhett dad.
But Rhett was his dad. Ben's real dad had never been in his life, and Rhett stepped up from that moment he met them.
The frazzled, young, single mother in the grocery store dealing with a screaming nine month old. Rhett offered to help and she was only too grateful to accept.
He pushed the shopping cart for her and helped her to load her groceries into the car. He'd gotten her phone number after that and the rest was history.
"Marry her," his mother said when Rhett had confided in her about it. It was just them on the porch as Ben and his mother slept in his bed. It was a tight squeeze, but Rhett loved it. "Then you'd really be his dad."
The smile Rhett wore was somewhat unsure as he leaned back, hands in his hoodie pocket. "I will," he'd said to Cecilia. "I just don't know when."
That had been months since that conversation. Rhett had bought a ring the very next day, he just hadn't given it to her yet.
More than anything Rhett couldn't wait to become Ben's dad. Of course, to Ben's mother, to his girl, he already was Ben's dad. She didn't need some fancy ring to prove that.
They already were a family, but she couldn’t wait to become an Abbott.
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shaunashipman · 2 days
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For something fun, what’re your hopes with where Bick and Tommy’s story is by the end of the season and how they may set it up for the future? I’m hoping that they have a more focused ending for them going into season eight unlike what we got in the last season with Buck and Natalia. That ending felt very open ended in that they could be serious or could not be. I mean that worked out well for Buck’s story, but given this relationship with Tommy is his 3rd within the last three seasons, I would imagine they want it to be a good and serious one AND for the general audience to take it as such. That’s why I think ending the season with them not just being in a ‘good place’, but showing us (and not just telling us) that they are serious and committed would be the way to do that. This would also break the cycle of Buck’s nerve ending never succeeding romantic relationships.
oooooh fun stuff
my dream version: tommy and possibly buck heroic moment in ep9, we get worried boyfriends, maybe another big smooch, bit of conflict as they both have to come to terms with being on the other side of dating a first responder, and we end the season with them in the montage watching the movie they never got to see, but this time at home cuddling on buck's couch (the movie is either love, actually or top gun)
real world version where it's not the bucktommy show: i still think maybe a heroic tommy moment in ep9 cause of the award ceremony, unless it actually is for the cruise ship rescue (which wouldn't quite make sense, yeah they saved people and the dept saved face, but tommy still stole a chopper, and the others lied to their superior and disobeyed orders, also, how long has it been in-universe 🤨) hopefully a cute domestic moment during/after the ceremony (my heart for a buck/tommy/bobby/athena scene). as for a more focused ending, half of the finales so far have had a get together of some sort, so having a party at bobby and athena's and buck bringing tommy would help cement the seriousness of their relationship, since none of the others have been shown at the family events, and then we could get a bit of them dancing at the party during the ending montage
(i'm also pretty sure, if they are together at the end of the season 🤞 then they'll still be together at the start of s8, cause otherwise it'll be the second premiere in a row where we last saw buck seemingly happy in a relationship only for them to break up between seasons. if they are gonna break up, it would probably be sometime during the first half of s8. or they could stay together forever and get married and grow old and die within hours of each other, like thomas and mitchell)
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twobeesornottwobees · 6 hours
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I have many thoughts on Challengers (2024) and I need to get them out so here we go
First, the tennis.
This movie understands tennis better than any film, tv, book, etc. I have ever seen. You know exactly how the relationship between the three main characters is going to play out just based on how they play. The cardinal rule of tennis is you want to get to the net as quickly as possible. Playing from the baseline (the line that you serve at) is all well and good and it's a vital part of the game but playing at the net is where the action is. The quicker you get to the net, the more likely you are to win.
From the first moment we see Art and Patrick, Art is at the net and Patrick is at the baseline. Then we see Patrick serve. In the language of tennis, Patrick's serve is a crime against beauty. It might work well enough for him but it is ugly. Those two facts put together mean that when Tashi tells Patrick he isn't a tennis player, she knows what she's talking about. Art is not as talented as Patrick and neither of them are as talented as Tashi but Art gets to the fucking net. He understands what Tashi means when she says that tennis is a relationship.
Second, the framing of the narrative as a tennis match.
Patrick wins a set, Art wins a set, we're left looking at the tie breaker. Brilliant. Camera shots from far away steadily get closer and closer, just like if you were in a rally and you were moving toward the net. Tashi, in particular, always moves closer to the person she's talking to and she always wins the point. She goes towards the net.
Third, Tashi as a character.
I love her, your honor. She is in love with the game of tennis. She doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything else. When she says she would stab a child to have the recovery that Art did, she means it. Moreover, we know that the child in question could be her own daughter and she would still mean it. From the first night in the boys' hotel room, she doesn't care which of them gets her number, she just wants to see good tennis. She is unlikable and yet Art is right. Who wouldn't love her?
Fourth, Art and Patrick.
One thing about tennis: your teammates are also your competitors. They are the yardstick by which you measure yourself, the only people capable of making you better, the people that you most need to beat. The relationship between the two of them, even from the beginning, perfectly reflects this.
I would actually argue that not a single one of the three of them is a good person. But the narrative is completely uninterested in whether or not their moral people. All it cares about is if they're good tennis players.
Fifth, the background details.
Art is sponsored by Wilson, his rackets have their logo repainted on (normally, you get rackets restrung and don't get the logos painted back on, only the players that are sponsored get that done.) Tashi was sponsored by Wilson (and Adidas but only for her clothes). Art only switches over from Dunlop to Wilson after they get married. Patrick's racket is restrung, but no logo, he's not sponsored. But, his poverty is at least a little bit performative because you don't smash up a $300 racket unless you have money to spare.
The ad in the background of the parking lot. It still has both Tashi and Art on it while Tashi and Patrick are having sex but by the time the final match starts, Art's half of the picture has torn away.
Patrick's changed serving style. Only when communication is happening directly between him and Art, that Tashi has no way of understanding, do they start functioning well on a court together. Ironically, when Tashi is removed from the relationship she finally gets to see some good tennis.
Anyways, I love this movie.
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bi-pisces07 · 1 year
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Kitty at Puss
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starrytalking · 2 years
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I recently watched “Little Women” and I didn’t know it would be that saddddd.
Also Jo totally should’ve been aroace! I related to so much she was going through just for it to (slight spoiler!) end in a romance again….
#starrytalking#like she could’ve been such great rep#and then she just isn’t and ‘finds someone who accepts her as she is’#this was so unnecessary‚ why couldn’t they just let her be happy without a partner but with ger writing and friends and family :/#second note‚ after some time: ok I know now that that’s not entirely true#so Jo (do I need to do a spoiler warning again) in the second Little Women book apparently marriages this professor dude but the author#originally said she wanted her to be a “literary spinster” kinda like herself but then got pressured by readers so much that she gave her#this rando as love interest#and the director wanted to stay true to what the author originally wanted so while we see Jo kiss this dude on screen and kinda live with#him in this idealised idea of the future she 'in reality’ doesn’t do that and that’s only what she wrote in her book#because the book is about her and her sisters life just like the overall movie but in the end we see the printing dude telling her to marry#her main character (basically herself) to someone for the book to perform better (sorta what happened to the author of little women herself)#so actually Jo doesn’t get married but gets to be happy with publishing her book and loving with her family ect. and the whole forced#“romance” with the professor is just a marketing thing for her book that she eventually agrees on#this made me feel very much better about the end of this movie that at first shattered me#and yes I just recently had a heavy discussion with someone who didn’t believe my theory of Jo not actually getting married but it being in#her book but luckily the internet and interviews with the director of the movie proved me right#aromantic#aro#asexual#ace#lgbtqia+#little women#movie#jo march#slight spoilers
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daemoninfluff · 1 year
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second-part-of-my-last-name family has sadly always been unlucky in all things love
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zarameraki · 21 days
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♡₊˚🛏️₊✧ 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼’𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ♡🌙₊˚₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 somnophilia (the characters have discussed the kink beforehand) 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with a bit of plot 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 gojo eats you out 𖥔 bj 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 heavy daddy kink 𖥔 lots of dirty talking
: ̗̀➛ words: 3.1k
: ̗̀➛ notes: initially this was a toji fic but satoru somehow decided to fit better (bad-dum tshh). ngl when i was writing this i got butterflies in my stomach. like i legit felt sumn throbbing lmaooo. tmi??? dont care. we're all horny here mamas. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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Satoru wasn’t ashamed to fuck his step-daughter. 
He enjoyed it. 
You enjoyed it. 
A clandestine affair kept under the sheets from your mother and two older brothers.
Megumi and Yuji had their suspicions about how carefree their step-father was around you, constantly tickling your side, asking you to lay your head on his lap during movie nights, and buying you gifts on a whim. The boys would obviously complain about the special treatment, but Satoru would just watch with a smile as you stuck your little tongue out and called yourself Daddy’s girl. 
Because that's what you were. You were your daddy’s girl. And Satoru ensured that fact was deeply ingrained in your mind as he moved in and out of you, lifting your tender legs onto his shoulders, kissing your rosy lips, saturating your silk sheets with both his and your release.
It was difficult keeping the lewd side of your relationship a secret. Your mother was rarely at home from her corporate job, and you suspected she was having an affair with a salaryman named Satoru.
Meanwhile, your brothers were in their second and fourth year of college nearby and could come home whenever they pleased—particularly Megumi, who wasn't as much of a partygoer as Yuji being a senior. There were multiple times while Satoru was fucking you when Megumi returned home, but did that stop him from satisfying his girl? Fuck no. 
As for your stepfather, he was a remote investor in the booming hospitality industry, managing significant stakes in various companies. His encounter with your mother at an industry event last year was strategic; she became a means to an end, a stepping stone toward fulfilling his desires. A few months down the line, she introduced him to her family, to you—the most precious thing Satoru laid his eyes on. You were the real prize in his eyes, something he had to figure out how to get his hands on, despite always getting what he wanted.
So, he married your mother, moved into your house, and deployed every weapon in his arsenal, including his lethal charms, to claim you as his own.
But did Satoru cherish you in the way a man should cherish a woman? No. He didn't cherish you. His love didn’t check off the conventional boxes. He was consumed, fixated, captivated by your existence, by your body, the adorable noises you made when you climaxed. But not enough to make you his girlfriend, or someday his wife. 
He just wanted you as his step-daughter. He was a selfish, depraved bastard who got off on that fantasy, and you, God you loved nothing more. You wanted nothing more from him than to be exactly who he was in his spot—your step-father.
As long as you both kept fucking each other for however long, you were satisfied. 
“Quiet, baby,” Satoru whispered as he clicked on a link for a video call with his team. His one hand rested over his mouse, the other over your crown as you lapped at the tip of his leaking cock. “This is an important call.” 
You’d returned from school after acing the test you’d been studying all week for and wanted to release that excitement onto your step-father. After all, he did massage your shoulders and brought you fruits when you were busting your ass memorizing the periodic table. 
Satoru plastered on a smile as the voices from his computer started speaking. He still kept petting your head, chuckling casually and speaking smoothly about numbers and profits like the capitalist he was. 
You opened your jaw wider and took his length into your mouth. Your gag reflex was non-existent after months and months of perfecting this skill. Your tongue supported the bottom of his shaft, while slowly bobbing your head up and down. Satoru’s grip tightened in your hair, but he remained all rainbow and sunshine in front of his workers. 
You gripped his thick cock, feeling the veins pulsing under your touch. Your tongue slid from the bottom to the top as you sucked on the pink head like a lollipop, glancing up at him through your lashes.
Satoru shot you a heated look and guided your head with his hand. He pushed his throbbing cock into your mouth, holding your face against his pelvis. You gagged a bit, needing air, and he eased off.
“It’s on mute,” he muttered. 
You broke out into coughs and smacked his leg. “What the fuck was that for?” 
“For giving me those eyes.” 
You scoffed. “Dickhead.” 
“It’s right in front of you, Princess. Put your pretty lips on it again.” 
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his cock extra tight making a muscle in his jaw twitch. You lapped at the pre-cum leaking down his length, then took him into the cave of your warm, small mouth. 
Satoru held your head in his hands, guiding the pace. He struggled to focus on the meeting, clearing his throat to shake off the intense feeling building up inside him. With fifteen minutes still to go, he was on the brink. 
Feeling your tap on his knee, he glanced down to see you motioning to your mouth.
Satoru lowered your head again, clenching his jaw as your tongue pushed him over the edge. He held his breath, releasing a wave of warmth as he emptied himself into your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair, while his other hand reached for his glass of water, desperately trying to steady himself with large gulps.
You pulled back, strings of your saliva and his come forming a bridge. He gave you the water and you drank the last bits of it. Satoru patted the top of your head and you stayed hidden underneath his table, admiring him as he finished his meeting. 
And before you knew it, he had you bouncing on his cock again. 
At dinner time, you helped set up the table with your brothers while your mother flipped the hamburger patties.
Satoru tossed the salad bowl, taking small glimpses at you and the pink set of tight shorts and tank you wore. He’s been noticing you rubbing your temples, swaying a little on the balls of your feet, blinking rapidly. You clearly weren’t feeling well from all that studying you’d been doing. 
Megumi abruptly pulled you aside by your elbow. “Is everything all right?” 
You blinked, fighting the sharp pain in your temple. “Yeah. Why?” 
“Satoru keeps glaring at you. Did you piss him off or something?” 
You cast a look at your step-father, who’s focused on pouring olive oil on the greens. “I haven’t talked to him since I came home from school.” 
Megumi nodded, rubbing your arm. “Well, I’m here if you need to talk about anything.” 
“What do you mean?” 
He scratches the back of his neck. “I just— This probably sounds stupid, but I don’t like knowing you’re both home alone in the afternoon.” 
“He lives here, silly. What do you expect?” 
“Yeah, I know. I know that—I’m just saying that he looks at you . . . like, weirdly. Not in a way someone would look at their family member. He acts weirdly, too. Always touching you and tickling you. I don’t know.” Megumi scrutinizes your outfit. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to wear that around the house when he’s here.” 
You frowned and crossed your arms. “I can’t deal with this again.” Putting on an act that Satoru was simply your step-father and nothing else was tiring, but you’d mastered it. “You’re being delusional as always, Megs. Satoru is just family to us and vice versa. I’m just special because I’m the youngest.” You patted his shoulder. “I can take care of myself. And if I ever need help, I’ve got you and Yuji to defend me.” 
Megumi smiled solemnly and shrugged off his hoodie, handing it to you. “Can you at least wear this?” 
Anything to ease his mind. 
You smiled and shouldered the large hoodie. 
Throughout dinner you kept losing focus of the conversation flowing between your brothers and mother. Your head was pounding from the stress of your upcoming final exams, your scalp ached a little from Satoru’s grip this afternoon, and you desperately needed sleep. 
“Y/N?” 
You lifted your head, blinking lethargically. “Yes, Mom?” 
“Are you okay?” 
“I—” You rubbed your heated forehead and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I, uh—I think I’m just not feeling too good.” 
“Sweetheart, how many times have I told you to take it easy with school? You’re doing great—”
“Great’s not going to get me in my dream college, Mom.” You lost your appetite easily and excused yourself from the table, grabbing a bottle of NyQuil and a spoon. “Please don’t wake me up until tomorrow. Goodnight.” You ignored everyone’s stares and marched upstairs, taking a spoonful on the way. 
Dropping face-front on the bed, you melted in your sheets and forced yourself into a sleep. 
Satoru waited until every light in the house was off before visiting your bedroom.
Of course, he had to check that little shit Megumi’s room, and after hearing nothing but white noise, he checked up on Yuji and found him snoring his lungs out, then finally entered into your space.
He shut the door quietly and locked it. 
You laid fast asleep, hair dusted across your soft face, one hand on your stomach, the other next to your head.
Satoru smirked and sat at the edge of your bed, checking your temperature by pressing his hand against your forehead. You were burning up, and the little strangled breaths puffing from your parted lips proved you weren’t going to school tomorrow. 
Lying down next to you, Satoru brushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He glanced down the length of your body and back to your face. His fingers danced over your collarbone, the expanse of your throat, feeling your rapid pulse.
“Relax for me, baby,” he whispered in your ear, kissing below your earlobe. He watched you for a second, waiting for you to shift or wake up, but you were dead asleep. 
You talked about what turns you on the most last week, and somnophilia was right up there, leaving Satoru scratching his head in confusion. He couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could be into getting it on while asleep. But you were practically begging him to give it a try someday, and he couldn’t say no to you. 
Well, surprise, surprise, baby. 
Satoru slipped down the straps of your tank top, leaning over you. He bridged kisses from your jaw to your neck to your shoulders, softly, not his usual crass ones. His finger hooked your tank lower until it exposed your tits and your puckered nipples.
“You’re always sensitive here, aren’t you, Princess?” He cupped your left breast and lowered his head, kissing the nipple and sucking the bud. 
You took a deep breath and shifted your face to the right.
Satoru switched to your neglected breast, taking his sweet time nibbling your tender nipple, then bringing his lips to yours. He kissed the top one, the bottom one, pushed his tongue inside to feel your sleeping one. His kisses trailed lower and lower until he reached your shorts. He pulled them down to reveal white panties and a damp spot between your legs. 
“Even in your sleep, huh?” Satoru planted kisses on your inner thighs, gently biting and licking. He nuzzled his nose against your clothed sex, inhaling deeply and breathing out slowly. His tongue traced over the area, wetting it more with each stroke. “Daddy’s gonna eat his pussy now, baby.” He pulled your panties to the side and dove into your slick, moist folds. “Mmm. You smell so sweet.” 
Satoru began to lap your juices like a starved dog, keeping your tender folds parted with his thumbs. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit, sending a little shiver down your body. He double-checked to see if you’re still asleep, then continued his job. He pushed two fingers in your walls and chuckled against your flesh as you clenched around him. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s taking good care of you.” 
Half an hour. He ate you out for half an hour until he could see the slight quiver in your swollen clit. His saliva and your fresh release covering your abused, delicate folds.
When he pulled away, his hard cock in hand, Satoru sat back, admiring you spread out like a feast before him. Leaning in, he teased your folds with his throbbing length, digging his tip over your clit in gentle circles.
“Can I put it in, Princess?” he whispered in your ear. You didn't answer, sweat trickling down your forehead with the fever. Satoru licked the droplets, then kissed down to your neck. His hands stayed by your head as he moved his hips, dragging himself over your puffy cunt. “Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your little pussy is so soft and wet.” He gripped his length and pressed just the tip into your entrance. “Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll give you what you want. Just don't wake up, okay?”
Satoru slipped in smoothly and nuzzled into your neck. He eased into your tightness, going slow and steady, urging your gummy walls to adjust to his size. “My sweet baby. Look at you. Sleeping while your daddy fucks himself in you.” He pulled back and widened your legs, seeing his fat cock sliding in and out of you. “Fuck, yes. Gonna fuck this little cunt of yours for hours.” He started moving quickly. “I don’t care if you can’t walk tomorrow. You won’t be leaving this bed anyway with that fever of yours. Daddy’s gonna fuck it out of you however long it takes.” 
He put his hands on either side of your head and kissed you while moving his hips.
You moaned, feeling a shiver as cold touched your bare chest and legs. “Satoru,” you said softly. His eyes closed in pleasure as he increased his pace. 
Sensing you stirring, he wrapped his arm around your waist and turned you over so you were lying on his chest. He paused, running his hand down your arm. “It’s okay, Princess. Go to sleep. Daddy’s got you.” 
You exhaled heavily. 
Satoru licked his lips and grabbed your plump asscheeks in his palms, slowly moving himself up into you. His face squished up seeing how well you were handling him even though you were out cold. He kept going, sometimes easing up when you shifted on his chest, or speeding up when you stayed asleep. 
“I'm so close, baby. So close to finishing inside my little girl. Gonna fill you up. Flush those pills and make you a mom.” He envisioned you with a swollen belly, your breasts heavy with milk, your body glowing and all his. 
Fuck, you were his. 
You were only his. 
Satoru came harder than he ever had before. Hot spurts of his release filled your sweet hole to the brim, and yet he continued with pumping into you. “Hey, baby? Daddy doesn’t want to stop now, okay? He’s going to fuck you some more,” he said, realizing why this kink meant so much to you.
Pulling out slowly, he laid you down beside him, shedding his clothes. Pressing his chest against your back, he wrapped your leg around his and slid back inside you, burying his face in your neck. He wanted to be rough, to feel your nails on his skin, to bite you and hear you moan.
“I wanna kiss you, baby. I want your little tongue.” Satoru pulled out of you after finishing for the second time and laid you on your back. He adjusted your head so you were looking at him. His fingers went back to pleasuring you while his lips met yours. He slipped his thumb between your teeth, easing your bottom jaw down. Satoru slid his tongue in, playing with yours, moaning and breathing heavily.
“My baby has such soft lips,” he murmured over your wet, swollen mouth. Taking his finger soaked with your juices and his come, Satoru placed them between your lips and ran them over your tongue. He ravished your mouth again. 
Exhausted from holding back, Satoru pulled you close and slid back inside you, staying still, just feeling your warmth. He ran his hand over your back, kissed your head, and shut his eyes.
In the morning, you woke up feeling a bit weighed down below and something awkward stopping your movements. You lifted your head, rubbing your sleepy eyes, and saw Satoru asleep beneath you. A grin spread across your face as you remembered the steamy dream you had about him satisfying you. 
You planted a kiss on his cheek and tried to get up using your hands, but then you froze. 
You looked down and realized you were sitting right on top of Satoru’s cock.
Holy shit. It wasn’t a dream. 
Satoru fucked you while you were out cold. Just thinking about him taking advantage of your defenseless body to satisfy himself made you shiver.
“Dickhead,” you grumbled, then began to rock your hips. Time for payback. Yanking down your cami-top, you teased your nipples, riding his stiffening cock. You couldn't care less as you leaned in for a kiss. “Rise and shine, Handsome.” 
Satoru took a deep breath. His lips synced with yours effortlessly, and his hand found its way into your hair. He yanked your head back, his eyes widening as they trailed down to your swaying hips. A smirk played on his lips as he relaxed back, crossing his arms behind his head. “You feeling good now, Princess?”
“Much better, Daddy.” 
Satoru admired the playful bounce of your tits, the adorable mewls escaping your mouth, the flush of your smooth skin. Seeing his step-daughter fuck herself on his cock first thing in the morning had him on cloud nine. 
“I’m gonna come, Daddy,” you moaned, hands planted on his chest. 
“Come, then, baby. Come on your daddy’s cock.” He reached out and grabbed your throat. “Then lick it clean.” 
“Yes, Daddy.” You came with a muted cry, milking every last drop of him. “Your cock is so full inside of me.” Satoru smirked at your dirty little words and gave your left tit a little slap. 
You picked yourself up from his cock and knelt between his legs. Satoru watched as your little hand barely wrapped around his girth, lapping at his come like his pretty, little kitten. “Feels good, Daddy?” 
“Yeah, baby. You always feel good to me.”
Satoru released a contented sigh and reclined against the soft pillows, his arms folded beneath him.
He will never be shameless of fucking his sweet girl ever. 
1K notes · View notes
milky-aeons · 2 months
Text
'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓
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ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.
warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k
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ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔
: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.
Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"
: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.
: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.
: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;
"You — are absolutely breath-taking."
: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.
"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."
: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.
𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .
"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"
Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.
"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.
And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.
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ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎
: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.
: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!
: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.
: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.
"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."
: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.
: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.
"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."
: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .
"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.
Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.
But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;
"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"
Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.
"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.
He grunted. "Same... thing."
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ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀
: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.
: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!
Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?
: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.
: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.
: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.
𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .
"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.
"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"
"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.
And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.
"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."
Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."
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ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀
: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.
: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.
: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.
: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;
"There you are, my wife."
: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.
: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.
: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .
"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."
"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."
Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.
He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.
"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."
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ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘
: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.
: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.
"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.
: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;
"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."
: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.
: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .
"Fyodor?"
"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.
"Why did you ask to marry me?"
Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.
Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."
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✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!
WRITING REQUESTS
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withahappyrefrain · 4 months
Text
Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd
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Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.
Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.
Words: 4.8K
This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!
When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 
“God, I wish that were me.”
It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 
But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 
It also brought up many questions. 
Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 
Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 
All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 
Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 
Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 
The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 
“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”
“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 
“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”
“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”
“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”
Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 
At least that's what the other thought. 
It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 
“Been awhile?” 
And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 
“Try never.” 
It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 
“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 
“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 
You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 
You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 
“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 
Darn those long limbs. 
“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 
“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 
Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 
College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 
And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 
Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 
“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 
Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 
You rubbed your thighs together. 
“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 
Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 
Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 
Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 
“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 
His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 
Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 
“You…like doing it?” 
The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 
It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 
He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 
“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 
“You don't have to wait.” 
The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 
But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 
You heard me. 
“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 
Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 
“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 
“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 
All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 
Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 
The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 
For what, you couldn't tell. 
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 
“Do you want it to be different?” 
What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?
“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 
He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”
He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  
“I asked you second, Robby.”
Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 
“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 
It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 
He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 
“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 
But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 
Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 
“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 
Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 
“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 
It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 
When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 
“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 
Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 
It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 
“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 
“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 
“God, you have terrible taste in men.”
You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 
How could he do that so quickly? 
He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 
When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 
Thank god your parents were on vacation. 
His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 
Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 
“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 
“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 
But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 
“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  
He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 
Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 
“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”
“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 
His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 
Good. 
You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 
God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 
And he had just gotten started. 
He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 
But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 
The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.
“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 
“Robby.” 
To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 
Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 
A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 
Was he this thick elsewhere?
You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 
Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 
You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 
But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 
He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 
Why did either of you wait this long? 
You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 
But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 
When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 
He really did enjoy it.
“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 
Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.
Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 
You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 
His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 
The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 
“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 
Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 
“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 
Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 
How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 
Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 
Jesus Christ, he was huge. 
“Fuck, she was right.” 
Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 
“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 
Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 
“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 
“I….we can unpack this later-” 
You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 
Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 
Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 
“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 
Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 
“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 
Darlin. You were his darlin. 
He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 
Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 
Even he didn't know when he would return home. 
It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 
“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 
His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 
“I don't want you to go.” 
“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 
“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 
“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 
Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 
“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 
“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 
Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 
Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 
He was going to need it for the next few months. 
Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 
“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 
The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 
“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 
Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 
“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.
“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 
Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 
Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 
“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 
Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 
In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 
His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 
You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 
It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 
“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 
Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 
“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 
Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 
But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 
His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 
That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 
But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 
“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 
Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 
Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 
The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 
His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 
You’d be a damn fool to. 
The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 
After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 
Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 
You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 
He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 
“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 
“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 
The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 
The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 
Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.
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@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
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the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure
gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.
you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.
he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"
you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"
"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"
"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.
you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.
~~~
some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.
when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.
"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.
"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.
after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"
there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"
your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.
"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.
rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.
you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."
"p-promise?"
"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.
gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.
gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.
~~~
the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.
you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.
he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.
your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.
gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.
he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.
he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.
~~~
leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.
you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.
crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.
"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."
gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.
"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.
he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?
"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"
he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.
he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"
god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.
i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.
"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."
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genshin-obsessed · 5 months
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Him as a husband | Honkai Star Rail
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✩ ‒ It's been a while since I've wrriten anything for star rail, so I decided to make these cute lil hcs. I'm not branching out to the newest pretty boy yet, I don't know anything about him. I avoided saying Valentine’s Day cuz they're not on earth or whatever.
✩ ‒ I'm also trying to butter y'all up a little for something else I'm planning lmao
✩ ‒ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade, Luocha
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✩ ‒ Caelus
He's not vocal about being married per se, but people usually know he's married. Other than the ring, he's very unresponsive to flirting. If anyone attempts to flirt with him, he'll just act like he doesn't get it. It makes things awkward and people often leave after.
He's very attentive to you. If you're having a bad day, he'll know pretty much immediately and will do anything and everything to get your mind off of it if you don't want to talk about it.
He loves to celebrate holidays for couples. They're super special days because every day with him is special, but he does go out of his way a little bit to surprise you with something. Could even be food, as long as you're surprised and smiling.
Cuddles are a must. You better hope your rooms are cold at night because he cuddles up to you every single time. He'll either lay his head on your chest or hug you against him, so sometimes it feels really hot in the morning.
Caelus prefers outdoor activities as dates, but isn't opposed to staying in. Movies, snacks, just being with one another isn't so bad. But going to a new planet and fighting baddies is also pretty enticing. More on that, Caelus has near heart attacks when you get hurt- like he saw you get hurt badly once and almost cried. Ok, no, he cried a little.
Children are up to you. He doesn't have much of a preference.
✩ ‒ Dan Heng
"Are you two married? You don't act like it." This has and always will confuse Dan Heng. What the hell does it mean? Is he supposed to be all over you or something? He has class. Though... he will hold your hand more often. Maybe the ring he'll get you for your anniversary might have a ginormous gem so it blinds everyone or something.
He's also pretty attentive to your needs and emotions. The second he thinks you're upset or hurt, he's at your side. He may or may not be a little clingy but he's so terrified of losing you. It's actually changed him for the better a little. He's less quiet, more expressive, and a lot more open to communication. That could also be due to his recent transformation...
He's not overly fond of those "couple days" because he's usually loving all year around. Why have a dedicated day? He has a hard time seeing the point in days like those.
Dates for Dan Heng are usually stay at home. He likes the more intimate activities at home- cuddling, watching movies, making out- yanno. Intimate.
Dan Heng likes kisses. Cheek kisses, neck kisses, shoulder kisses, hand kisses- don't matter. He loves them all. Usually done behind closed doors, Dan Heng never forgets to kiss you. Like, ever. He will also make up for lost kisses.
Um... he prefers no children, but it's something you can talk about later on.
✩ ‒ Jing Yuan
You have your hands full with this one. Everyone and their courier birds will know he's married to you. This man just can't stop talking about you. Like, he'll be receiving a report about something or other and just somehow manages to drop your name in the conversation. It's cute and all, but Jing Yuan, focus!
Sadly, he's a busy man. He comes home to you every single day, don't worry, but he does need to be away for most of the day. He's not the biggest fan of it and has suggested maybe trying to find a position for you to keep you close by. Other than being down right addicted to you, he worries because he's got enemies.
Jing Yuan DOES take time for those fancy couple days but they're not overly different from the usual dates. He used to make it all fancy, with giant bouquets of flowers and expensive jewelry, until he realized he was showering you with love on a specific day and not every day like he should. So, he's toned it down a little, but every now and then, he'll get you something fancy.
There isn't much time for dates. They usually include visiting him during his breaks and enjoying some tea together. Maybe spending time with Mimi or something. But on his days off, he tries really hard to set up something for you.
He kinda likes to hold you. There's nothing wrong with it, its just constant. Like, you're so cute and he just wants to hug you all the time. He does try to control himself in public to avoid making you uncomfortable.
Children? Why? Isn't Yanqing enough?
✩ ‒ Blade
Some people still have a hard time understanding that you actually married him. In your opinion, they're small minded and don't actually know Blade. Blade, himself, doesn't actually care what anyone else thinks. Though, they should mind their manners around you.
Blade can be attentive, but doesn't always know how to help. He's got his own problems, so he usually tries to use them as a reference point. When he feels depressed or lost, what would he do? He tries to help you that way. It doesn't always work, but it does help him learn more and more.
He'll forget any special "couple" days are coming up. Kafka or Silver Wolf mention it and he's always confused about them. He will try to get you something just so you don't feel left out. "Oh my husband didn't get me anything because he doesn't care about today". Never.
Blade likes cuddles, but they hurt. He's got a lot of wounds on his body so he can't hold you the way he likes. Not to mention, the mara, his personal discomfort, lack of understanding. You assure him that it's ok, but he still feels guilty often. You deserve the world, but he can barely give you himself. He does try to hold your hand a lot. You both share the same bed and he sleep extremely close.
There's not many outdoor dates with him other than going on missions which aren't dates. Usually, you two train together and just spend time with one another. Blade is willing to attend an event with you... but he's attached to you. He doesn't know anyone there.
No children. He'd be a terrible dad, sorry.
✩ ‒ Luocha
Now aren't you two an interesting couple? Luocha has a way with words. He'll let potential flirters know he's married way before they can even start flirting with him. He won't even give them the time of day, especially if they're disrespectful toward you.
Of course he's attentive. He's great at recognizing your emotions and understanding what may or may not make it worse. For example, if he attends an event, he'll know what type of people might be too forward for you. Or may know when someone is beginning to make you upset.
Not a fan of those "couple days". He literally rolls his eyes at them, like why would he hold himself back to let it all out on that day? He's all over you, every day. BUT! He does get you a flower or a small box of chocolates... or something else in the bedroom. Idk.
Luocha likes to schedule dates per week so that you can clear up time for them. Just because you have a day off doesn’t mean it needs to be a date night. Maybe you want that day to yourself, who knows? He likes to find a day or two within the week dedicated to actually going out to a restaurant, a picnic, maybe fighting some baddies- who knows. Whatever works for both of y’all.
Luocha likes being close to you, whatever that means to you. He can hold you, hold your hand, just sit close by. Generally, he finds peace around you, so it doesn't matter what you two are doing as long as he can be close to you.
Uhh kids? Are you sure?
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bunny584 · 4 months
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OBSESSED: NANAMI (PT. II)
A/N: Because our collective husband won the contest. Gege texted me saying obviously Nanami would win. He also said if I don’t post a second part immediately Choso gets the boot next season. So I’m doing this for ALL of us 🤗 (I swear, I swear I’m 90% done with H&H for those of you that follow/have tolerated my lollygagging).
C/W: Fluff, Breeding, Mature, 18+
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“It wasn’t over…it still isn’t over.”
Lines from The Notebook bubble from your lips onto Nanami’s bare chest. You’re curled onto him like a Cheshire cat. Your pretty, flushed mouth pets him. Followed closely by muffled sniffles. You bury your misty eyes and runny nose into his ratty, old college baseball shirt.
The one washed heather grey from the days turned months turned years of your careful handwashing.
I can get you another shirt, my love.
But I want this one, Ken. It reminds me of when we first fell in love.
Your answer is the same whenever he offers. Pouring all of your being into mending the natural little holes, the frays, and strain that comes with time.
His precious girl.
You nurse his shirt back to health, time and time again. In the same way you kiss him on rainy Sunday mornings. And pull him into the kitchen to dance with you under candlelight. And sneak extra food into his packed lunch on days he has to work overtime.
You are celestial.
With you he’s entrenched in the Heavens.
With you he builds the palatial wings of his own personal Icarus. Flying close, nearly too close, to the blinding warmth of your Sun.
“It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”
You shift up higher on him. Torsos melding together. Both your thighs cradled between his pajama clad legs. Nanami drags his fingers along your delicate spine.
God, he revels in you like this.
“It is, baby.”
Nanami catches the glassy mosaic in your eyes. Worthy of display in the Sistine Chapel.
You quickly bury your head into his neck, embarrassed about crying over a movie you’ve both seen over 10 times.
“I’m being so ridiculous, I’m sorry. It’s the stupid, dumb, stupid hormones.”
You press a cloud soft kiss into his chest and it reverberates down to his thundering heart.
Truthfully, Nanami has spent the entirety of the film watching you.
Tiny wrinkles in your button nose during some scenes, giggles and full belly laughs at others. You try to bite back your sobs. Slap away your tears before they splash against his abs — like they don’t correlate with the same points in the plot everytime.
He purposefully chose The Notebook after dinner because of your reactions. Just so he could fall in love with you all over again.
Just like Icarus.
Who fell from flying too close to the Sun.
Because loving you feels like a blissful free fall. With no ground in sight.
“I can’t wait to marry you.” The words flow out of Nanami. He can’t seem to contain it.
A pretty gasp escapes you. You pull away from the TV to shift closer to his face.
“Oh, Ken. I can’t wait to—“
“Kiss me.” His voice is throaty, laced with growing need.
Such an obedient girl.
Your lips are addicting. A fiend’s paradise.
He surges his hands in your hair while his tongue traces and tastes every corner of your mouth. You whine into him. He sucks on your tongue before taking your bottom lip into his teeth.
“Baby,” You breathe against his lips. Gentle pants melding with his.
Nanami kisses a hushed I love you into your mouth, before shifting your bodies on the plush couch.
His cock has been throbbing the entire movie. His shirt has inevitably shrunken over the years. Where it used to fall past your mid thighs, now it rides halfway over your hips.
Your plump, perky ass has been in plain view the whole night. Nothing protecting you from his invasion except for a thin, baby doll thong. Navy. Like the letters on his alma mater’s shirt.
Because your body is in heat, preparing you for a baby, your breasts are noticeably larger.
Filling out his shirt in the most mouth watering way. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, enticing him with every miniscule movement.
God, the way you wince and squeal when you brush your buds too harshly against him. Or whimper when the supple, puffy flesh of your tits push against his rigid body a little too hard.
His cock bucks off his thigh every single time.
The next 3 days Nanami will be reduced to the most rudimentary version of himself.
He’ll follow you around the house like a lap dog. Burying his nose and mouth and lips and tongue into every part of your body. He’ll grope you. Rub his crotch into you at every turn. Cum from just sucking on your nipples, if you let him.
You two have decided to abstain from sex when you ovulate. Until you are ready to create a love child.
He says you, because Nanami is fully ready, eager, to have mini-yous filling his home with life.
And really, he’s happy to let you dictate your family planning.
But the next 3 days will be torture. His needy, oversensitive heavy cock will drive every thought. He’ll jerk off more times than he can count.
Nanami is on his back now, with you perfectly perched on his manhood. Nothing but your thin panties cupping your precious little cunt. His length tents right up against you, begging for entry.
Both of your warm hands caress each hill and valley of his abs. Little crystals line your wide, puppy eyes. Tip of your nose so deeply flushed from all your tears. Cheeks dusted rose from your sex rubbing against his in this position.
No matter how many years you two have been intimate, you always blush, and squirm, and look away and hide your face like it’s the first time.
And it just makes him want to bury his cock in you. And take you. And worship you. And keep you swollen with his cum.
“How did I get so lucky?”
Again, Nanami means to think the statement but it rolls off his tongue on its own accord.
“D-do you mean that?” The way your bottom lip quivers makes his cock drool.
“My love. Your name was etched into my heart from the day I met you.”
Nanami pulls himself up so that your chest collides with his. You whimper at the sudden contact and the sound decimates his brain.
He crashes his lips into yours once more.
Your sweet mouth is blinding. You immediately evanesce into him. Little “ohs” and little “mmms” escape you in the pockets of breath Nanami allows you.
His cock jerks violently against your warm, dewy folds. Your arousal has soaked through your measly barrier. Now mixing with his, staining his sweats.
“Oh sweetheart,” Nanami husks against your lips. His fingers go to move your thong aside and are now drenched.
“So wet for me. Such a needy girl.”
He circles your puffy clit twice. And you buck against his veiny hand.
“Mmnnggh…oh god, K-Ken..” broken little moans kiss Nanami’s neck, while he pets your soaking wet folds.
“My precious girl,” he muses, fully aware of how pliant you become under his sweet words and light touch.
Nanami shifts his hips upward, just to avoid his legs falling asleep. But the sound that emanates from your lips is mind altering.
The friction from his fingers on your sensitive bud and his barely clothed, steel pipe length bullying into your opening drives you to see stars.
You bury your head back into the crook of his neck. So embarrassed about the way your hips start rutting against his cock. Slowly. On low autopilot.
Nanami grips your fleshy ass with his free hand. Pushing you deeper onto his rod every time you hump him.
“Oh yeah, baby?”
He gently teases into your ear. It’s such a fucking turn on. You rutting against him so desperately. Blushing up to your ears. Trying and failing miserably at fighting your body when it’s in heat like this.
Your nails dig little crescents into Nanami’s back. Small little puffs of air feather his skin.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” Nanami huffs.
“Use my cock. Make yourself feel good.”
You mewl at his words. Frustrated that the friction you want, need, is escaping you.
“I-I’m so…” words broken by your sloppy, desperate humping. Nanami grips your ass tighter. He suspends his hips upward to help you.
But his adjustments just make you whine louder. Pulling your face out of his neck to glare at him. Little frustrated crystals fall from your eyes. Your pupils are completely blown. Eyelids heavy. Nostrils flaring.
Fucking hell.
He could cum from just looking at you right now.
You need his cock. It feels criminal not to sink into your begging, decadent, pretty little cunt right now. When your body has worked so hard to prepare you to be stuffed and bred.
“I’m so horny,” another salty tear rolls down your pretty face.
And Nanami has to look up at the ceiling.
Because you say things like that.
While dripping around his dick. With your puffy tits and lips. Wearing his shirt that reminds you both of when you first fell in love.
How can you expect him to maintain any decorum?
“I-I-I love you with all my heart, Kento.”
And, he’s off.
You snap his last remaining string of self control in half.
Nanami takes another bruising kiss from your lips. His hands start dragging his shirt over your head. And you immediately moan into him.
“Be gentle with it!” You scold through delirious groans.
He can’t help but smile against your lips. His sweet, tender hearted future wife. So protective. Even if it’s just a cotton t-shirt.
“Forgive me baby, I’ll be more gentle.”
Willing his hands to move a beat slower. He pulls the prized possession over your head and sets it on the couch ledge behind you.
His eyes instantly drop to your sensitive nipples. And you squirm away from his searing gaze.
“My beautiful wife.” Nanami murmurs.
He places feather light kisses on your sensitive mounds.
Your tiny fingers wire through his hair and gently tug. And Nanami’s cock twitches in return. Leaking more of his arousal onto the mess you both have created.
“Can I make love to you baby? All I need is my tongue.”
Grit in his tone almost sharp enough to nick your skin.
You roll your bottom lip under your teeth. Wanton and utterly fucked out, you drop your hand to his crotch for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss from your soon-to-be husband.
“I want to feel you.” Hot desire woven throughout your angelic features.
Your voice calls to his manhood. The last remaining blood in his brain diverts directly to his groin.
“I…” Nanami pulls in a deep, shaky breath.
“I won’t be able to pull out, pretty girl.”
You take a kiss this time, swirling your sweet tongue around his. Nanami melts into your mouth like chocolate. Palming both of your hips with his large hands.
Pull out? He won’t be able to last more than 5 seconds inside you at this rate.
“You’re my husband,” your dulcet voice absolutely fucking his brain.
“And I want to feel you.”
Nanami has to bite back a pathetic whine. There’s barely 3 seconds left before he’s thrusting into you like the caged animal he is.
“Sweetheart, I could…” No, he knows he will.
“I will get you pregnant tonight.”
He offers you the last warning he’ll be able to mumble before he starts.
You cup his face. Place a chaste kiss on his swollen lips and grind onto his helplessly rock hard cock.
“Then let’s make a baby.”
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ghostfacd · 5 months
Text
YOU PUT THE BALLAD IN THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which yn takes her career to the next level and drops a few bangers that left everyone in awe
installment of this au (recommend reading for context !!)
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ynuser guys. a lil secret i’ve been holding onto for my dear life that not even my bf knows, i wrote a song for tbosas!! you’ll definitely hear it after the movie’s over and the credits starts rolling. a fun, challenging, and exciting experience and i really really felt like i outdone myself so hopefully you guys like it as much as i do 🥹 (p.s first photo is when tom and i listened to it for the first time together and he was just in awe)
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tomblyth i love you my talented songbird !!
➥ user1 time to cry he called her his songbird
➥ user2 this is a sign that i should probably move on from tom blyth.. 😔
user3 just listened to it, it was absolutely amazing. yn stays changing lives
user4 YOU’RE SO TALENTEDDD
rachezegler lucy gray irl
➥ ynuser stopp ily
conangray YN AVOCOT, I LOVE YOU! - your #2 supporter (because tom insisted on being #1)
➥ tomblyth damn right i’m #1
user5 the second pic of her and tom 🥹🥹
user6 conan and yn r the best friends we needed
user7 her life seems so fun omg im jealous
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ynuser oops.. another secret?
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rachelzegler YN.
rachelzegler NOT TELLING UR OWN BEST FRIEND ABOUT IT?
➥ conangray stealing my title?? 😡😡
➥ ynuser you both are my best friends!
➥ tomblyth i thought i was your best friend?
user8 not the best friend argument 🫢
user9 GIRLL IM SO EXCITED FOR THE ALBUM
user10 she can act, she can sing, what else can’t she do?
user11 GUTS!
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tomblyth hi guys! as you all know, my amazing girlfriend just released her first album — GUTS! it’s honestly such an amazing album with songs that yn has held super close to her heart. I would love it if you guys supported her because she honestly deserves the world. YN, I’m so incredibly proud to be your boyfriend.
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser tom. im crying.
➥ rachelzegler can confirm, she’s in tears rn
user12 i am so grateful that they met each other because they make each other so happy 😓
user13 he bought her cd and album 😭😭 i need a bf like tom
user14 “i am so incredibly proud to be your boyfriend” get married already cause wow.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
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would you be able/want to do something with gojo where him and the reader are both teachers and are in an established relationship but the student (aside from megumi) don’t know and start trying to figure out who gojo’s in a relationship with? i feel like gojo would either mess with them or be honest that it’s you but they just don’t believe him cause. yk. it’s you?
Hey, thank you so much for that great request, it was really fun to write! I mixed it up a little with an already existing fic of mine, I hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think <3
Part l to this fic can be found here
Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife
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Pairing: husband!Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Synopsis: When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.
Warnings: language, sad Gojo lol, this is an absolute comfort fanfic so there you go if that's what you need today, read part l if you haven't yet <3
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3
„Itadori!“ Nobara hisses through gritted teeth.
“Did you just see that?”
“What do you mean?”, Yuji remarks with doe-eyes, gazing up at her with no clue what she’s even talking about.
“That ring on Gojo-sensei’s finger, you idiot”, she barks back at him while frantically running to the door in order to catch one last glimpse at him.
“Is he by any chance married, Fushiguro?”
Megumi signs to himself, staring at Nobara in nothing but annoyance. That talk from last week where she literally forced you to describe Gojo still doesn’t sit right with him. Of course, Megumi knows about your relationship. After all, he’s been with both of you for many years now, witnessed countless times how Gojo caresses your cheek gently in the darkness of privacy, how he calls you “darling” around the house and passes out on the couch next to you 10 minutes into a movie. And even though both of you never talked about this whole marriage being private thing, Megumi simply refuses to talk about your love life – even with his friends.
“I have no idea. But maybe minding your own business will help with your complexion or something”, Megumi bites back.
All of the sudden, Nobara smacks the back of his head hard.
“Hey, that’s pretty mean, you don’t have to be so rough!” Yuji complains in an instant.
“Both of you, shut up. I will just ask him when he returns. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”
“There are actually a lot of reasons not to tell you…”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH FUSHIGURO!”
“Huh, what’s going on here? I’ve been gone for a minute and you’re already smacking your heads?”
Casually, Satoru sits down behind is desk, long legs stretched out in front of him while nipping at the coffee you just made him. Oh, how much he loves to pay you a small visit during work. Just to be assured that you’re fine, that the second years don’t get on your nerves while training them. He just loves to adore you from afar. Yes, and the minute he gets home, you’re all his and his alone.
“You’re wearing a ring on your finger”, Nobara suddenly blurts out.
Satoru tils his head to the side, gaze wandering over his wedding ring. While he normally never wears it in fear of losing it during some stupid mission, today is your anniversary. The urge to proudly show off his ring became much greater than any anxiety. Also, today is a teaching only day and he’ll return home with you by his side after this lesson is over. The things he has planned for both of you tonight…He smirks to himself, joyful like a child when thinking about the surprise that’s waiting for you at home.
“Gojo-sensei!”
Megumi’s urgent voice rips him out of his daydreams.
“So what? A ring has many meanings”, Satoru replies calmly.
You never talked about this. While you seem to silently agree that showing each other affection at Jujutsu High isn’t what you want and that you are keen to keep your relationship private, you never talked this through. Last week when you described Satoru Gojo so well as your favourite type of men, you never said his name once, probably turned completely red when Yuji mentioned it so casually.
“Yeah, like being married for example!”
“Maybe I am, who knows?”
Satoru intertwines his fingers behind the back of his head, smirking at Nobara who is close to lose her mind widely.
“Maybe you should leave him alone…”, Yuji suggests in hushed tones.
“Maybe you should shut up, Itadori. This is far too important to let it slide!”
“You are way too dramatic about this.”, Megumi comments dryly.
“You guys just don’t understand the magic behind this!”
“So you want to know what this ring means?”
Nobara’s eyes light up in an instant, filled with so much unveiled curiosity that Gojo can’t help but wonder why she is never this invested when it comes to learning.
“Please tell me!”
Let’s see what happens.
“This is my wedding ring. I’m married to (y/n) for three years by now.”
Thick silence, utter speechlessness. The expression on Nobara’s face is so priceless that the urge inside Satoru to take a picture and show it to you later almost becomes unbearable.
“What’s up, Kugisaki? Did you see a ghost?”
“There’s no way in hell this is true”, Nobara mutters into Yuji’s ear, which earns a serious nod from the pink-haired boy.
Wait, what? Satoru furrows his eyebrows while gazing at the girl in front of him in disbelief. What did she just say?
“Why on earth couldn’t this be true, huh?”, he barks at her, hands clenched into fists.
“(y/n) is a real sweetheart with great taste. I just don’t think she would get involved with someone like you. Also, she said that she likes muscular man. And she never wore a ring”, Nobara explains briefly, earning a death stare from Satoru Gojo himself.
Both Yuji and Nobara eye him up and down, critical expression plastered on their faces while whispering unclear things into each other’s ear.
Satoru is on the brick of losing it. Did his students just suggest that you are too good for him? And that he’s not muscular!?
“I am muscular!”, he cries out.
“Megumi-chan, tell them I’m married to (y/n).”
If the ground would be able to swallow Megumi whole, he would take that offer in an instant. They already discussed this stupid matter for over 10 minutes now, when will the lesson finally start?
“Don’t drag me into this. Just do your job”, Megumi mumbles in annoyance.
Of course, Satoru is very aware of the fact that you are striking gorgeous, popular even beyond the boundaries of Jujutsu High. Damn, even here there might be some men who’d want you. But he is the strongest, he is good-looking, he is funny…Why on earth wouldn’t you be married to him?
“See? Nice try Gojo-sensei, but we don’t fall for your shit.”
He can’t believe his ears, face so red that Megumi slides back in his chair just in chase.
“You brats have absolutely no idea what love actually is! I won’t let you tell me who I’m married to or not!”, Satoru spits at his students, catching the attention of you.
Huh, what’s going on inside that classroom? You were on your way to grab some cursed weapons to show Maki, but the way your husband’s furious voice is heard through the entire hall makes you stop in front of his slightly opened door.
“Why are you screaming around here, Sir?”, you question, gazing at Nobara in confusion as she almost breaks down in tears from laughing her ass off.
“(y/n), darling, tell my students that you are my wife!”, Satoru demands.
Is that why he’s so stressed, because he wanted to tell his students that the both of you are married? What is going on here?
“I already told him multiple times we don’t believe him. Last week you said you like muscular man-“
“I AM MUSCULAR!”
You desperately try to hold back a laughter, the stressed out look on your husband’s face being enough to let a little giggle escape your lips. How on earth did that topic even pop up? Your gazer wanders to the wedding ring on his cramped finger, heart filling with warmth in an instant. Oh, he really wears it.
“Maybe he’s wearing that ring only for attention…”, Nobara whispers into Yuji’s ear.
“This is getting ridiculous”, Megumi comments.
“Why don’t we all just calm down a little? Your lesson started 15 minutes ago, why are you still arguing around?”, you playfully throw at your husband.
Despite the fact that you want to throw yourself in his arms right away, you keep your cool composure. This is what he gets for picking on you last week. You’ll make him suffer just the way he did it to you.
“You are supposed to help me with this!”, he complains.
“I am supposed to work right now”, you reply sweetly before turning on your heels and closing the door.
You can’t hold back any longer. Tears start to tickle in your eyes, that priceless look on his face. Oh god, you can’t stop laughing. This evening will definitely be entertaining.
-in the evening-
“Hello, stranger”, you playfully greet your husband as soon as he returns from work, blue orbs almost piercing through you.
“You are supposed to help me! Why didn’t they believe me? I’m I really that much of a downgrade compared to you?”
That little pout forming on his delicate face warms your heart in an instant.
“Maybe it’s better this way. I like to enjoy my time with you in privacy. Nice try though”, you playfully remark, your hands gently running through his soft white hair.
Suddenly he grabs your legs, pulling your body up in the air while all you can to is shriek and laugh out lough. He carries you into the bedroom, letting your body fall onto the soft mattress.
“I will make you pay for not helping me out today you traitor.”
“Then I’m happy to be a traitor.”
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