#fill your arms with the pink and white flowers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

getosbigballsack · 4 months

Text

𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝐶𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑋 𝑀𝐼𝐿𝐹 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝐻𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑛. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ��𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑦. 𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑓 ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜?

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥, 𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑔 𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑘, 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑥, 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑦, 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑝𝑒𝑡 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 (𝑀𝑎𝑚𝑎) 𝑒𝑡𝑐

𝐴/𝑁: ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡.

𝑊𝐶: 9808

✯𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢'𝑠 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑃𝑒𝑛

𝐸𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦❤︎

To think that the young master Gojo would stay true to his words when he promised you that he would visit you in the night to have dinner and spend what he called “quality time” with you and your son.

Guys around his age were mostly talk and not action. Always making big promises that they knew weren't able to fulfil, but Gojo? Nope you underestimated him, deeply so too.

Hence the reason you stood stiff at your door entrance, gazing at the young 21 year old who had a huge grin on his face, a bag in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He's really here, and neatly dressed too in a black turtleneck sweater, grey slacks and black boots to match. To top off his looks, he had his signature dark glasses resting at the top of his white head of white pillowy hair.

Just then you became very conscious of your attire. Plain black shorts and a pink crop top that had your nipples poking through the milk stain on your top.

You felt ashamed, appearing to the young man in such a state, you almost slammed the door in his face to go change, but the sound of his voice brought you back to reality.

“Mrs. Hiroshima, aren't you gonna let me in? I brought dinner, just like I promised,” he said as he held up the bag that you now saw that was filled with dishes of food.

“Uhm… yeah sure come in,” you said, stepping away from the doorway and allowing him to step inside your husband’s home. You locked the door before moving towards the kitchen where you had your baby babbling away with his pacifier in his mouth in his high chair around the kitchen counter.

“You have a lovely house Mrs. Hiroshima,” Gojo complimented as he rested the bag on the counter and went towards your baby to tickle underneath his chin, “Hey baby Kaori, you're so cute.”

Kaori giggled, stretching his arms out to Gojo as he continued to tickle underneath his chin. A smile crept upon your face, but quickly faded when you remembered the reason Gojo was here.

Earlier, he came up to you once again after your husband rudely disrespected you in front of his colleagues. Gojo came up to you with a drink you never ordered and placed it in front of you and rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Your husband doesn't deserve you Mrs. Hiroshima,” he whispered, his tall lanky body leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “I can treat you better than your husband can. I can show you a good time. I can treat you like how you deserve to be treated. If you let me, I will take care of you and your son.”

Confused, you turn your head slightly to see him already looking at you, eyes half lidded, lips between his teeth as he waits for a response from you. But none came, you were too baffled to even respond, so then he licked his lips and whispered once more, “Hm, how about we have dinner at your place tonight. Me, you and baby Kaori. Think of it as quality time. I'm sure you'd like that. I'll drop by at 7 tonight.”

With that said he pressed a kiss against your cheek before leaving to attend to the rest of the customers inside the cafe that was previously owned by his father but now, under his name.

“Uhm Gojo?” You called out to him and he slowly turned around to face you with a smile gracing his lips. “Uhm what are you…”

“Oh my bad, I bought you flowers. I hope you're not allergic to them,” he said, cutting you in the middle of your sentence while standing straight and handing over the flowers to you. You muttered a quiet thanks as you took them from him.

They were beautiful, and they smelled wonderful too. “I wasn't sure if you'd like roses that much or maybe you'd think I was being too cliché so I chose something different.”

You smiled, a bit thoughtful of him, you thought as you to another whiff of the flowers before turning around to go find a vase to put them in. Meanwhile Gojo began to unpack the food from the bag, resting each on the kitchen counter before walking towards you and resting a hand on your hip.

You startled to say the least, almost dropping the flowers on the countertop as you turned slightly to look at him. “Uhm… Gojo.”

Once again he stopped you from saying what he knew what you were about to say and said, “The dishes, where are they? We don't want the food to get cold now.”

You sighed heavily, but still he was right. He prepared all this meal, might as well have some before pointing him towards the front door. It was wrong of you to entertain a man inside your husband’s house, dressed in skimpy clothes at that too. But you see nothing wrong with having a home cooked meal. It’s been a while since you had something warm, too busy being a mom to even cook for yourself.

“They’re right above your head, Gojo-kun,” you said pointing towards the cabinet before you. He smiled, hand reaching above you to grab two dishes.

“I made a lot of food, I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I went with the safest option. Fried chicken, white rice with egg rolls and curried vegetables.”

“Sounds delicious,” you said, while grabbing the flower vase, filling it with water and placing the flowers in before walking over to the kitchen island where you saw Gojo plating you a presentable looking meal. “Oh, wow.”

“Eat up,” he said as he placed the dish in front of you and handed you the fork he used to plate your meal. You wasted no time, feeling your tummy rumble a bit and took a bite of the curry vegetables. Gojo watched, eyes grinning when he saw your eyes light up with excitement as you took another bite of the curry vegetable. “Do you like it, Mrs. Hiroshima?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, taking another bite of the curry veggies. “I’ve never had curry vegetables before. This actually tastes really good.”

He smiled, “I need to thank my mom for the recipe the next time I see her.” You chuckled and continued on eating while Gojo sat closely to you with his plate filled with food as well. You watched closely as Gojo hummed as he dug into the curry vegetable. You never missed how the tip of his brow arched slightly as he chewed away on his food. “Oh, I should make this more often.”

“You should,” you added and he chuckled in response.

You both sat in silence for a while, but not without sneaking glances at each other until Gojo decided to speak up, “So Mrs. Hiroshima, I heard that you were once the valedictorian at my university.”

Your eyes perched up a bit, “You’re attending UT? I mean the university of Tokyo?”

He nodded his head, “Mhm!”

“What Major?” you asked while resting your arm on the table and glanced over at Kaori who was still babbling away with his pacifier.

“I’m a double major actually. I’m majoring in both economics and finance,” he said before biting into the fried chicken.

“Wow impressive Gojo-kun, never knew you were that smart,” you commented.

He shrugged, “Never really had much of a choice. I didn’t want to choose, so I did them both.”

“I understand. And to answer your question from before, yes I was the valedictorian of my graduating class,” you said smiling at him.

“I hope to graduate as valedictorian for my class, but my best friend Suguru isn’t going down without a fight you see. He beat me last semester by 0.01%. He had a 4.50 gpa and I had a 4.49 gpa.”

You laughed as he continued to mumble about how he cried and his best friend laughed at him when the results came out.

“It’s not even funny Mrs. Hiroshima, if only I got that 1% that I need on that exam then maybe we both would’ve been tied last semester. But nonetheless, though I was upset with him, I felt happy for him regardless, it’s good to have a friend like him. He’s always pushing me to be the better version of myself and I’m doing the same for him.”

“That’s lovely…” your sentence was cut short by the sound of Kaori’s whimpering. You looked over at him to see that he was getting a bit fussy. Ah yes, it’s his bedtime. You quickly hopped out of your seat, resting your fork in your dish that still had a bit of food left in it. You gently took your baby out of his high chair, went back to sit beside Gojo and without even thinking, you lifted your crop top exposing your swollen breast to Gojo just before putting your baby onto your breast. “I’m sorry about that Gojo-Kun. As I was saying, it's lovely to have friends that want the best for you in life.”

Your head turned slightly to look over at Gojo, hoping that he’d respond to you, but when you looked at him, you saw his head resting on the kitchen island, the side of his cheek that was visible and the tip of his ear was bright pink. “Gojo-Kun?”

He cleared his throat, trying to get his thoughts together after what he just witnessed. He is no stranger to naked women, having seen his fair share of breasts of all different sizes and manners there is no reason for him to get this flustered at the sight of another set of women’s tits. But you, the moment you absentmindedly exposed your breast, his cheeks turned bright pink, heart hammering rapidly against his chest. He had to quickly hide his face, out of respect to you being a mother, and also to silence the perverted thoughts of you that plagued his mind for many nights before.

Fuck… fuck… fuck he hissed. Who would’ve thought that a woman’s lactating breast would’ve turned him on just as much as yours did. “My apologies,” he said, swallowing the ball in his throat as he lifted his head to look at you, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on your face and his cock from getting any harder than it already is. Not yet Satoru… In due time he reminded himself as he cleared his throat yet again. “I accidentally choked on a bit of rice.” He lied.

“There’s a bottle of orange juice in the fridge. Help yourself to some, it’ll help clear your throat a bit better.”

“Thank you,” he said as he removed himself from the kitchen island, walked over to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses to pour the orange juice in and once he was through with his task, he sat beside you once more, thanking you for the juice yet again before taking a sip. “What were we talking about again?”

“Ah! I was saying that you’re lucky enough to have a friend like Geto. It’s nice to see friends supporting each other,” you repeated.

“Right, right and speaking of the bastard, he is majoring in your department,” Gojo said to you.

“Oh really, and what’s his major?”

“Information and communication engineering and a minor in applied physics,” Gojo replied.

“That’s awesome, good for you boys,” you complimented. For the remainder of the meal, you and Gojo continued on with the conversation. Gojo did most of the talking though, because he was trying to hide the fact he had a semi-boner hiding underneath the table.

…

It was 9 pm, Kaori was already in his crib sleeping, you were currently mopping the kitchen and the dishes from earlier were currently being taken care of by Gojo even though you told him that he didn’t have to do it. But he insisted because he was the one who brought dinner to your house, so it was right for him to do the dishes.

“I'm done Mrs. Hiroshima,” Gojo said as he wiped his hands on the dish cloth that you gave to him before neatly folding it and hanging it from the stove handle and then leaned his lower back against the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at him.

He waved his hand at you and responded, “It's the least I can do.” It was silent for a while, Gojo’s eyes never leaving your frame, studying how you gently wiped the kitchen island top and cleaned up Kaori’s high-chair, until he spoke up, “So did you enjoy tonight?”

You shook your head, “It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal and I thank you for that. It was very warm and pleasing to my tummy.” After you were through with cleaning Kaori’s high chair, you went to dispose of the paper towel you use to clean and rest the mop back into the small cleaning closet inside the kitchen. “Plus it's been a while since someone took the time out of their day to remember that I exist. So really Gojo-Kun, thank you. Your presence meant a lot to me.”

“Can I add a bit more to that meaning?” he asked while biting his bottom lip.

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

He used his hand to push himself away from the kitchen counter and slowly made his way towards you. “You said that my presence here meant a lot to you, so I was hoping to add more to that. You know I could stay the night and we could watch a movie, cuddle and talk about anything you like.”

Your eyes almost rolled out of its sockets the moment Gojo mentioned ‘stay the night’. He knew that you're married and he also knew that it was inappropriate of him to even think about spending the night here at your husband's house. No matter how tempting his offer to watch a movie and cuddle sounded, you're married and despite the fact that your husband wasn't loyal to you, it doesn't mean that had to do the same.

“As thoughtful as that may sound, I don't think that's a good idea Gojo-Kun.”

“Why not?” He asked as he inched closer to you and once his heel was touching yours, he was quick to cage you in-between his body and the counter.

You're baffled. Did he really just ask why you don't think it's a good idea. “Because Gojo, I'm a married woman.”

“And so? What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.

“Really, that means that I have a husband… and no matter what he does to me I’ll never betray him.”

“Your husband doesn’t even want you though,” he said, staring you dead in the eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Im sorry,” he quickly apologised as soon as he realised what he had just said to you. You watched as his head bowed a little and he heaved a heavy sigh. “I meant every word though, about your husband not wanting you.”

You rolled your eyes, hands lifting up to push him away from, but his tall lanky body didn’t move an inch. You growled, “Then why apologise.”

“Because I don’t want you to hate me,” he whispered as he leaned his body forward and rested his forehead against yours. “I like you Y/N.” Time for him to drop the formalities and get a little bit serious. In this moment right here, he needed for you to understand that he wasn’t joking around when he said that he wanted to take care of you and your son.

“Gojo… Kun I don’t…”

“Sh!” he hushed you. “I don’t wanna hear about your husband, because he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Who are you to say that he doesn’t deserve me?” You asked.

He chuckled a bit as he responded, “Who am I? The question you should be asking me, Mrs Hiroshima, is what do I know?”

You bit your lip and tried to push him away once again, but he just wouldn't move.

“Why are you trying to push me away?” He whispered.

You swallowed thickly. “You're being inappropriate Gojo-Kun.”

“How? By telling you the truth?” He asked. Your lips twitched a bit, feeling a bit irritated by his lack of manners or let's say how blatantly disrespectful he was being when he spoke about your relationship with your husband, even though what he was saying to you was the truth.

You rolled your eyes and gave up on trying to push him away. You both stood for a while in silence, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breathing could be heard. “Mrs. Hiroshima?” Gojo called out to you, finally breaking the silence between you too, and also in hopes that it'll lighten the heavy tension that was now between the two of you.

“What, Gojo?” You answered him.

He sighed, “Aren't you tired of being disrespected by your husband constantly? Aren't you tired of hearing him say that you aren't good enough for him? Aren't you tired of seeing him neglect your son. Aren't you tired of being lonely?”

“What do you know?” You asked him this time and he smirked.

He then replied to you in a soft tone, “More than I should. I know about the bathroom hook ups inside the cafe, the amount of women he takes to the cafe on a daily basis after he's certain you're home then leave to fuck them in the parking lot. I know about the rude disrespectful words that he utters about you to my father Y/N.”

Your lips trembled as Gojo continued on with his statement.

“He says that you’re a useless woman. He said he’s embarrassed to have you around and to call you his wife, all because you decided not to abort your baby. Oh… yeah he even told my father that he refuses to have intercourse with you because you’re now damaged goods.”

“Shut up! I don’t wanna hear anymore of this,” you yelled out, hot tears pricking the corner of your eyes. Gojo said nothing more, only watched as you hastily tried to rid yourself of the tears that you’re getting so tired of wasting on your good for nothing husband. You can’t believe a word that Gojo was uttering out of his mouth. You knew how he felt about you ever since you decided to give birth to Kaori, but to hear him describe you as damaged goods. Oh he’s done it now.

You’re crying now, your hands moving to cover up your face to hide the tears from Gojo’s eyes. But he wasn’t having it, so he pulled your hand away from your face and used his hand to wipe your tears before caressing your cheeks. He hated to see you cry, he was getting a bit tired of seeing your tears even though at this very moment, he was sort of the reason you had tears in your eyes.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name as he continued to caress your cheeks. “I'm sorry, for making you cry like this. It wasn't my intention to do so, but still you need to know that it's not worth being faithful to that scum you call husband Y/N.”

“Gojo-Kun…” you called to him, but he shook his head no, placed a finger on your lips to silence you.

“Y/N, your husband, he doesn't deserve you. You're too good for him. How dare he call you damaged goods. He should be praising you, worshipping you for bringing such a precious life into this world. You know how many men would kill to have a wife like you. And there he goes, wasting his time and other things and neglecting his own wife.”

You swallowed thickly while batting your lashes at Gojo. Your heart felt heavy hammering against your chest as Gojo continued to praise you, congratulating you for being the best mother you could be for your young baby, Kaori. No one has ever praised you for your efforts.

“Y/N, you deserve better than that old scum. You deserve someone who recognizes your worth and who's willing to treat you like the strong, beautiful woman you are. You need a man who's willing to treat you like you deserve to be treated, a man who is going to take care of you and your son,” he said as he licked his lips and leaned his face forward a bit. “I want to be that someone for you Y/N, I want to be that man for you.”

“Go… Gojo? I…”

“Just think about Y/N. All the fun you and I can have together. All the memories you'll be able to create with Kaori and myself. I might still be a college student but I got money, enough to take care of you and your son financially. I can cook, I'm fun to be around Y/N, and if that's not enough, just the simple fact that I like you should be enough for you to think about giving me a chance to prove to you that I can be the man you need.”

“You're… your words are sweet Gojo-Kun but I… I don't…” and before you were able to complete the sentence, Gojo shuts you up with a peck on your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, in pure shock having just felt his lips against yours.

“Hey mama… listen to me,” Gojo said, snapping you out of your trance. “I can promise you three things, mama. I can take care of you and your son, I can show you a good time and I got a big dick,” he whispered the last bit of his sentence while staring you dead in the eyes.

“G… Gojo,” you stuttered, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Did he really just say that he had a big dick? Your brain was trying to figure out if he actually said that, but what he said next is all the confirmation that you need.

“If you let me stay the night, I'll fulfil two of my promises to you. So how about it mama, is 8.5 big enough for you?”

“That's enough… Gojo-Kun,” you stuttered. Your body was feeling a bit too hot. Did his words have that much affect on you or are you just too lonely and touch deprived?

“Think about it Mrs. Hiroshima. Let me stay with you tonight,” he whispered before leaning down to peck your lips once more. “I promise it'll be fun for the both of us. Especially for you.”

You're conflicted now, not knowing what to say to him. Not knowing if his promises held any truth to them. You're wondering if he really liked you? Why you? You're married and have a baby so why waste such precious time on you?

You bit your lips while staring at his lips, tempted to lean in once more to feel his soft lips against yours, but at the same time you wanted to bite them then remind him that no matter what you'll remain loyal to your husband.

But is it worth it? Is your loyalty to your husband worth it? What sense does it make to stay loyal to someone who basically called you damaged goods, when there's a perfectly healthy man standing before you offering to give you a good time and what you're assuming to be good sex?

Is it all worth it? Is it worth betraying your husband and for sex? Maybe, you're not sure. You're conflicted.

Gojo realized that, how the muscles in your face twitched, curved and bend with whatever facial expression on your face.

You teeth gnawing on your lips, so deep in thoughts you didn't even take notice of Gojo’s slight movement until you felt his hand grazing your bottom, “You're thinking too hard about this Y/N. Come on, let's go upstairs. Please.”

“Go… Gojo-Kun.”

“Please!” He whispered before tilting his head to the side to kiss your lips for the third time, but this time a bit longer than before. It wasn't a peck, but it wasn't a full blown kiss either, he was teasing you, tempting you to kiss him back. “Kiss me back!” He whispered with his lips still. “Please! Kiss me back!” He begged once more before you finally gave in, closing your eyes and slowly moving your lips against his.

Your toes curled, hands quickly grabbing onto the fabric of his sweater, bunching the cotton material between your hands. The hand that grazed your bottom moved up further to grab a handful of your ass cheeks which caused you to moan a bit against his lips, before moving to rest itself against your hips while his other hand went to cup your hot cheek.

Who knew that kissing could feel great? Maybe it's because it's been a while since you last felt someone's lips against yours. But still it felt as though he was drawing every last breath from your body until there was nothing left. “Y/N,” he whispered your name against your lips. “Let's go upstairs.”

He pecked your lips a couple of times before you pulled away to look at him. Once again you asked yourself. Is your loyalty to your husband worth breaking to have sex with Gojo?

It may not be, but what's the harm? So you say fuck it to yourself before answering him, “I need to shower first.”

A smile stretched itself across his face as he pulled away from you entirely, grabbed hold of your hand and led you towards the front door. “Let me grab my bag and something else from my car. I too feel the need to freshen up.”

“Ok,” you mumbled, shaking your head before releasing his hand and watched as he pulled his car key from his slacks, opened up your front door and quickly went towards his car to grab what he needed. A few short minutes later he returned with a bag slung over his shoulder and a small box of large condoms.

He came prepared. It's like he was expecting you to say yes.

“Let's go.”

…

It's been about fifteen minutes since you agreed to have sex with Gojo. And now you're stepping out the bathroom in a white half silk half mesh lingerie dress that was gifted to you just last week. You had no intention of wearing it, you had no reason to wear it before.

But now as you walked further into the bedroom to see Gojo sitting on the windowsill with a phone in his hand while the other one gripped his cock over his grey sweater pants and a loose t-shirt he wore resting comfortably on his well defined abs, you thought that wearing this was the right decision.

He didn’t hear you come in nor did he see you walking over to him until he felt your feet touching his. He quickly looked up, mouth almost dropping open when he saw you standing before him. That lingerie you did nothing to shield your body from him. He could see everything, from the curves of your breasts, the fat and thickness of your nipples, to the softness of your tummy, the dips in your luscious thighs and that white lacy panty that you had underneath your lingerie dress.

He licked his lips while he powered off his phone and tossed it on the bed, then slowly, his hands went to wrap around your waist pulling you closer until your chest was pressing against his. He wasted no time removing his hands from your waist to grab your ass, biting his lips as he gazed into your eyes. “Kaori isn’t gonna wake up anytime soon is he?” he asked you.

“No… I don’t think so,” you answered as you shyly turned your eyes away from his. His gaze was a bit too intense for you, it made you feel small like a prey waiting to be devoured up by its predator.

“Good,” he whispered before lifting you up, wrapped your legs around his waist and walked towards the bed with you desperately clinging onto his shoulders. The next thing you know, you’re being tossed on the bed with his hands on your thighs spreading your legs so that he can kneel between them. His breathing was heavy, you could feel his hot breath against your face as he leaned forward to level his head with yours. Gojo could feel his heart racing against his chest as he stared down at you. Eyes taking in the sight of your smooth silky skin, the pure look of innocence on your face down to the supple of your neck. His eyes lingered for a while as he moved down to stare at your cleavage, your plump lactating breast just waiting, ready, fat nipples moist with your milk for him to suck.

And he just couldn't wait much longer, his left hand moving from your thighs to grip the thin strap of your lingerie dress and pulling the strap from your shoulder slowly until your left breast was exposed to him. He licked his lips and whispered, “You flashed me earlier this evening, I had to hold myself back from devouring your tits right then and there mama. You know, I’ve alway wondered what breast milk tasted like, care to give me a taste?”

You nodded yes and shyly twisted your mouth to the side, your doe like eyes staring up at his waiting for him to do as he pleased with your body. It’s been a while since you last felt the warm touch of a man and your eager body just needed him to do whatever he pleased with you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered before planting his lips against yours, slowly kissing and caressing your lips with his tongue as though he was your lover. You tasted sweet, like a warm homemade vanilla cream pie, he could kiss your lips all day if you allowed him.

As you both continued to share a sweet intimate kiss, his right hand moved from your thigh to pull the other strap down your arms to fully reveal your breast to him. He gently squeezed your boobs as he pulled away from your lips and began to trail wet butterflies kisses along your jawline, neck and down to the valley of your boobs. You gasped at the feeling of his lips kissing the flesh of your tits, hissing when he wrapped his hot wet tongue around your aching nipple and sucked harshly to taste what he’s been dying to have in his mouth.

The boy groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he tasted your sweet milk against his tongue. His taste buds danced with excitement, cock hardened even more beneath his confines and he couldn’t help but to brush it up against the now dampen crotch of your lacy panty. You gasped yet again, back arching slightly to shove more of your breast in his mouth. Your dainty fingers found purchase in his hair, gently gripping onto the roots as he continued his ministrations on your left nipple.

Soon enough he pulled away from your left nipple, not wasting another second he quickly latched his lips onto the other aching nipple and used his left hand to fondle your left boob while his free hand made quick work of your lacy panty underneath your lingerie dress. The sound of his lips sucking the milk from your breast made heat and goosebump rose against your skin. It’s embarrassing, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t turning you on even more.

“Fuck! Taste so fucking good mama,” Gojo groaned as he released your nipple with a pop to focus on getting rid of your panties entirely. Once it was out of the way, Gojo leaned down to kiss your breast once more then whispered, “I bet it’ll taste a bit better on your cunt,” before sucking more of your breast milk in his mouth as his hand bunch the dress around your waist.

You watched with you lips between your teeth as he pulled away from you tits, his hand on your thighs and before you could even register what he was to do, he already spread your legs a bit wider and he was on his tummy, face to face with your dripping and aching cunt.

“Gojo-Kun don’t… Ngh,” you tried to pull away once you realised what he was about to do, but it was a bit too late because Gojo held your thighs firmly to keep you from pulling away from him and he’s spitting the milk mixed with his saliva on your cunt. “No Gojo… don’t put your tongue… Ahh,” you screamed, feeling his hot tongue laying flat against cunt, licking and slurping up the milk before swallowing.

“Mhm… fuck I knew it would taste so much better,” he mumbled before diving back in. Like a starved man, Gojo greedily sucked at your puffy swollen slick coated clit, dragging his tongue in between your parted pussy lips to lick whatever was left from what he spat out his mouth. You tasted delicious, like a sweet treat ready to rot his teeth. He knew from the moment he saw you all those months ago heavily pregnant with your now new born baby, that your cunt would be a mighty treat for him.

He dreamt about this many nights before and now that you gave him the opportunity, he was going to make it worth well. So with that goal in mind, Gojo’s hands moved from thighs to grab your ass cheeks to spread your pussy out a bit more. He lifted his head from your cunt, spat on it and watched with glistening eyes as his saliva dribbled down the crack of your ass. He couldn’t help himself much longer, using his tongue to lick between your butt cheek, his tongue playing with your butthole a bit before going back to suck on your clit.

Did he just licked your ass? “Did you just licked my butthole?” you asked in complete and utter shock.

“Mhm!” He hummed against you. “And I’ll lick it again.”

You could not believe what was happening to you at this very moment. No man dared to tongue your booty hole, much less suck on your cunt and even if they did, none of them were as good as Gojo. He knew what he was doing with that wicked tongue of his, flicking and thrusting in and out of your sloppy wet hole.

Your eyes widened in surprise, unable to say much or even moan, you gripped his arms that held your ass cheek apart, lifted your body to watch as his mouth sinfully and skillfully worked your clit. He felt your gaze on him and he darted his eyes upwards to take in the sight of your face contorting with pleasure, your eyes rapidly fluttering, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on him.

“Mhmm… It feels weird,” your cried out. Gojo chuckled against your cunt before closing his eyes and began french kissing your pussy, his soft lips making out with your lower lips, slowly moving against them in such a sweet erotic rhythm. A sheer heat began to rise in your tummy, your thighs began trembling against his head and your breathing increased.

You body felt hot, extremely hot as a matter of fact you felt like you were about to piss on yourself, so you tried to pull away from him. But the greedy boy held you down, even when you cried and begged him to release you just so that you could hurriedly use the bathroom. Gojo wasn’t hearing any of that, instead he mumbled against your throbbing pulsing pussy, “Piss on me, I don’t care. ‘M not moving.”

And he meant it. He gripped your ass harder, his nose bumping your clit and his tongue buried deep inside your pussy, slurping and licking every drop of your pussy juice. The heat in your tummy began to rise even more, legs now violently shaking against his face and that heavy pressure that you feel inside you felt like it was moment away from bursting if Gojo doesn’t let up on your pussy.

You began breathing heavily, hands gripping tightly onto sheets as he continued to eat. Your back fell flat against the mattress unable to sit straight for much longer. “Nganh Gojo…” you cried, feeling the intense heat and pressure growing hotter and too heavy for you to handle. “Bathroom, bathroom pleaseeee…” But he still wouldn’t let up, he only continued the assault his tongue had in your hole. “Nghh, Nght…” and you cried, unable to hold it in for much longer, you squirt all over Gojo’s face, back lurching from the bed as the fountain of water spewed from your pussy.

Unbelievable, you’re pissing (not really it was squirt, but you never knew that because you’ve never squirted before), on Gojo face unable to stop the rush of liquid spewing from your pussy and when you thought you were done, Gojo had the audacity to bring his thumb to your clit, flicking the nub until your burst all over him yet again.

“Mama’s a squirter,” he beamed in excitement when you finally came down from your high. He removed himself from your cunt to kiss your lips before hopping off the bed to grab the box of condoms and removed his clothes.

You’re a bit embarrassed after what just happened, but that didn’t stop you from watching as he tore open the box of condoms, pulling three foils attached to each other from the box. “You think we could use all three tonight?” He teased as he ripped one of the foils and put it in his mouth and then tossed the last two on the bed.

You said nothing, only continued to stare at him as he began to run his hand up and down his abs from underneath his shirt, teasing you a bit until he gripped the end and yanked the shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

He’s slim and toned, it was as if God took his time to carefully sculpt his body to perfection. Every muscle and veins were positioned perfectly, in the most pleasing shape and design. His jawline was perfectly sculptured, his straight collar bone fitted nicely with his broad and sharp shoulders. His pectoral and sharply defined abdomen were perfect. A few beauty marks decorated his pale and smooth skin, Gojo was the definition of a perfect man.

“Liking what you see mama?” Gojo teasing asked and you quickly turned your head to hide the shameful look on your face. How dare you ogle at another man’s body inside the room you used to share with your husband. “I don’t mean to tease. Please look at me.”

And you did. You turned around just in time to see him gripping his heavy cock over his sweatpant, lightly palming his member to get it a bit more erect than it already was. Your mouth watered a bit from the sight, desperate to see what he’s hiding inside his sweatpants. “You think you can handle this mama?” he asked while moving his hand away from his cock to grip the waist of his sweatpants.

Slowly, he began to pull the waistband down and over his erect penis. Your eyes popped out of their sockets, unable to stare much longer, you quickly turned over on your tummy and buried your face into your pillow. His cock was like a weapon, made to destroy any pussy it came in contact with. Is it not heavy? Why was it so big? So many questions running through your mind, you didn’t even hear him call your name, nor did you see him tear open the foil with his teeth and roll the condom down his length. That’s until you felt his hands caressing your backside.

“Y/N,” he whispered as he climbed up on the bed to press a kiss on your shoulder blade. “Turn around please, I wanna look at you when I put my cock in you.” You shook your head no. “Why not?” he asked. He waited for a while and made himself busy by leaving lingering kisses on your shoulder blades and down your spine. When you didn’t respond he muttered, “Mama, turn around please.”

“Just do it this way.”

“But I wanna see your face.”

“No!”

He huffed and laughed, then he whispered, “Ok! Well I guess we’ll be using all three condoms tonight, because I won’t stop until I can see your face.” And that's all he said before lifting his body from above yours, climbed off the bed, grabbed your legs and pulled them until they were dangling from the bed. “Ass up.”

With his help, you lifted your lower half from the bed, your face still buried inside the pillow that managed to drag along with you when Gojo pulled at your legs. “That’s it,” he said and rested both hands on your ass. He began to smooth his hand over your globes, only stopping to fully remove the last article of clothing that was on your body. “You ready mama?” he asked you.

“Yes!” you mumbled against the pillow. He lets out a low, thinking that you looked so cute, hiding your face from him. He rubbed his hand over your ass once, lightly tapping your booty cheek before spreading your cheeks apart to spit on your dripping, glistening pussy. He grabbed his cock and dragged the tip up and down your quivering hole. You gasped feeling the bulbous tip poked at your entrance. “Gojo-Kun?”

“Sh… only getting your ready mama,” he said as he pressed his cock against your entrance once more. He rested his hand in the middle of your back, pressing your cheek even further into the bed, lifted his leg from the floor and rested on knee on the bed. He needed to get the perfect angle to ensure that you felt him in the deepest parts of your pussy. He tapped his cock on your pussy a few more times then whispered, “I’m going in.”

You gasped, eyes squeezing tightly when you felt his cock, slowly but surely bullying it way past your entrance. “Fucking hell,” Gojo moaned out. He squeezed his eyes shut too, teeth biting harshly at his lip at the feeling of your pussy clenching and pulsing around his cock. “Fuck mama, you’re squeezing me, you have to relax.”

Relax, he said, but you didn’t know how. It's been a while since you last had sex, plus you didn’t have problems like this before. Your husband’s cock is not even half the size of Gojo’s.

“Come on mama, you have got to relax, Don’t you wanna feel good?” he asked as he slowly dragged his cock out of you, then thrust back in slowly to see how your pussy painfully stretched around his thick girthy cock.

“It’s too big,” you cried into the pillows.

“I know,” he groaned. He pulled out once more, tilting his head down to spit on your pussy yet again before sliding back in, pressing his cock deeper inside your pussy until his pelvis was right up against your ass.

His hips slowly began to roll, his cock working in and out of your wet tight hole. You moaned into the pillow, finger clutching the sheets tight as you tried to keep your ass up and your back perfectly arched. You could feel him, every inch of his cock working the walls of your pussy. He was deep inside your pussy and you loved the feeling.

Gojo groaned, eyes trained to where you are both connected and he couldn’t help but smack his hand against your plush ass, eliciting a scream from the back of your throat. “Not so loud mama, you don’t wanna wake up Kaori now,” he teased before smacking his hand against your ass yet again. He grabbed the burning flesh, massaging it in his hot hands while his other hand to steady your now moving hips.

“Keep still,” he said as he rested his other knee on bed to get an even better angle to fuck you.

“But… It - hah… ugh mhm,” you moaned, feeling his cock poking at you g-spot with each thrust of his hips. He smacked you a third time spreading your buttcheek to spit on your cute little butt. You hissed, feeling the hot liquid run down the crack of your ass and the sudden feeling of his thumb gently rubbing the entrance.

“You like that, mama?” he asked as he continued to play with your entrance all while making love to your hole with his cock. In response to his question, you pushed your hip against his yet again to meet his every thrust. “Thought I told you to keep still mama,” he groaned. How could you keep still? His thick long cock was penetrating you in deep and slow strokes, so deep that you had to bite the pillow to prevent yourself from screaming out. Your son was sleeping in the next room and the walls weren’t soundproof so no matter how overwhelming and pleasurable the feeling was for you.

Gojo grinned at your cute attempts to throw your ass against him. He could tell how inexperienced you were by the small hesitate movement of your hips. But it’s understandable, your husband didn’t do much to help experience the true intense pleasure you gain from having sex. He felt a sense of responsibility to give you the pleasure that you deserved. “Gonna put my thumb in your ass since you won’t look at me, think you can take it?” he asked and before you could even attempt to respond, his thumb was already slipping past the tight rings of your ass.

“Oh God,” you moaned out, moving one hand from the pillow in search of his, only for your wrist to be grabbed and held down against your back. He picked up a bit of speed, but slow enough it had your body shuddering. You could feel it, your pussy juices leaking around his cock, and slowly running down on the inside of your thighs. Such a lewd sight, for Gojo and Gojo eyes only.

“You’re so fucking wet mama,” Gojo commented as he listened to sounds your wet pussy welcoming his cock with each thrust. His thumb was still resting comfortably in your ass, and though he had not once moved his thumb, you were feeling so good, too good to the point where you felt like you were no longer in control of your own body.

To think that you once thought that the purpose of sex was solely for the pleasure of your husband and procreation yet still here you are experiencing mind blowing sex with Gojo Satoru. Though you felt a tad bit guilty for cheating on your cheating husband, this felt so right and you’re happy that you made the decision to have sex with Gojo.

“Ready to turn around and look at me mama?” Gojo asked.

“No…” you stuttered through your moans. He breathed heavily, quickly pulling his thumb from your ass and released your wrist before bending over you, his chest pressing against your back and his cock sliding even further into your cunt.

“Nghh oh God, no no too deep,” you cried. Gojo paid you no mind, he only rested both hands at either side of your head and continued to penetrate you deeply from this angle.

Gojo, he rested his forehead against your back, listening to your sweet moans. He chuckled at how much you're trying to get away from his thrust while keeping your face hidden from him. It was honestly cute, but how long will you be able to hold on out, after all as much as how he's feeling good, feeling as though heaven came to take him even was no close to coming anytime soon.

But you, with how much your pussy was clenching and dripping around his cock, it was only a matter of time before you came. “Mama,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss on your back and nibbled in your soft skin.

Your tears began soaking the pillow, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth, once again your whole body felt hot and mad with pleasure.

“Y/N,” Gojo grunted as he pressed against you even more, and somehow you still managed to keep that arch in your back. You could feel him, his cock all up and way up in your guts, repeatedly bullying its way in and out of your hole, rearranging and shaping your pussy to fit around his shaft.

His penis was bruising your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. “Look at me,” he whispered against your skin before moving his head to the side to get a better look on your face. But you're stubborn, quickly shoving your face into the pillows.

“No… don't wanna mhm… ugh don't wanna look.”

A bit of your cheek was exposed to him, so he leaned over a bit more to kiss the sweaty skin of your cheek. “But I wanna kiss you,” he huffed as he slowly pulled out of you leaving just the tip in, before slamming into you again, forcing your head to rise and fall back against his shoulder.

“Ugh… ahh fuck fuck,” you screamed. Gojo only caught a glimpse of your fucked out expression before your face once again made contact with the pillow.

You wanna play hard, well then fine! Gojo said to himself as he fucked you harder and deeper than his was before, slowly and calculated thrust slap against the surface of your ass.

The bed creaked, headboard slamming against the walls in your room, for a moment your mind raced to your son, thinking that at any moment due to the amount of sounds that were being made he was going to wake up. But that thought was overcome by pleasure and the sounds of your muffled hiccups and cries.

With every thrust of his hips, he was knocking the last bit of wind from your body. He was pushing closer and closer to your climax. He groaned each time your pussy clenched around him, you're dripping soaking the bed sheets with your juices. “I'm gonna make you cum,” he said as he slowed his thrust and wrapped his arms around your body.

Next thing you know you're lying on your side with Gojo’s body pressed tightly against yours, your left foot in his hand, your right breast being fondled by his other hand and his face in the nape of your neck.

He began to roughly pound his cock inside your pussy, fingers pinching and squeezing your nipples. “No choice but to look at me now mama!” He said as he removed his head from your neck to take in the look on your face.

And God you're beautiful, with your eyes blown out wide. Lips swollen and red and your hair messing sticky to your face. You're embarrassed, you didn't want him to see you like this, but you couldn't turn your head away, not when he gazed at you so intently, satisfied with how much a beautiful mess you were right now.

He dropped your legs on top of his and moved his fingers down towards your puffy clit. You could feel the muscle in your thighs quivering, your pussy desperately sucking and spasming around his cock.

Your body trembled in ecstacy, eyes still locked with his as he continued to pound into you. He rubbed your clit harder, pain and pleasure sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You could feel it, the intense and uncomfortable pressure building up in your pussy. “Come on mama cum, for me, cum for me,” he whispered and finally kissed your lips, swallowing up your moans and cries when your body tensed, pussy forcefully pushing his cock hole moments before your body shook and squirted on the bed. His fingers kept rubbing at your clit, not slowing down for a minute, he was going to drain you until you had nothing left to give. As soon as you come down from your high gonna quickly slip out of you help you up against his body.

He was not done yet, after all you both still had two more condoms to use.

Later that night

You've been having sex with Gojo for maybe an hour and half. You’ve changed positions more than you could count and God knows that the amount of orgasms Gojo granted you was more than what your worthless husband has ever given to you.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling guilty. But the more you thought about it, the more you came to realise that maybe you actually needed to stop worrying about your worthless husband and focus on the one who currently had your nipple in his mouth. Sucking on your breast drinking every drop of milk as he slowly moved his cock in and out of you.

He was dead serious about using all three condoms. He was on the final one now. “Ugh… Gojo-Kun please… I’m tired.”

He pulled away from your breast to rest his forehead against yours and whispered, “Just one last time Y/N. Let’s make love one last time tonight. Ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered, connecting your lips with his and kissed him sweetly. He moaned against your lips, his cock still working the inside of your pussy with slow and deep thrust. His hand tightly squeezed onto the fat of your thighs to keep himself steady as he lost himself inside your cunt. He wish he could fuck you raw, feeling your wet pussy moving against the heated skin of his cock.

But not yet, things will happen in due time, so for now he is content with pressing his hip between your legs pushing his condom-covered cock deeper inside your cunt and feeling your walls trembling and hearing you gasping from fullness and the stretch.

Your arousal enabled him to thrust smoothly inside you, poking and brushing up against your sweet spot each time.

You trembled and whimpered against his lips and chokes on your moans, you fist his hair between your fingers. Gojo sighed against your lips and pushed inside of you deeper but still moving slowly. “Feeling good aren’t you mama?” he asked as he nipped on your swollen bottom lip.

“Mhm, so good Gojo-Kun!”

“Fuck… come on Y/N, call me Satoru when I’m balls deep inside of you,” he said, grunting when he felt the tight grip in his hair. He smirked, hearing you mumble his name against his lips. “Louder.”

“Satoru!” you whimpered.

“Fuck.” Goosebumps rose on your skin. He was slowly pounding into your pussy and moving his hips in tight circles, hitting all the sensitive points within your throbbing pussy. You pant and cling to his hair, his arms moving from your legs to hold onto your hips while the gentle thrusting of his cock made your pussy flood with your love juices. “Go… Satoru-Kun, I’m…”

“I know,” he replied even before you were unable to finish your sentence. He tilted his head down to see where you’re both joint together to witness the cream from a coat around his cock. “I’m getting close too, mama.” His hand moved away from your hip to slowly rub at your throbbing clit, pushing back to the swollen hood to tease it with index finger which caused your tummy to burn and his to buck against him. You sobbed out, lifting your hip to rock against his as he began to increase his hip movement while keeping a steady pace.

“Let it go mama. Let it all go,” he grunted through his gasp for breath, aroused and working inside you with those sweet gentle thrusts. You began to buck into his fingers, panting, gasping and threatening to come undone beneath him. You turned your face to rest your cheek on the pillow but the soft tone in his voice stopped you. “No, I want to see your beautiful face when you cum, mama.”

Your entire body rose from the bed, your tummy constricted as the slick sound of your arousal adhering to his cock filled the room. Your orgasm came on like a tidal wave, hitting you so hard that you felt yourself moaning and sobbed while your thigh trembled and your muscles spasmed.

He moaned above you, his cock quickly pushing deeper, whispering, “That’s it. Let it go mama, let it go.” Then he kissed your sweaty forehead. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Your moaned as your hand fell from his hair to scratch the skin on his back as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm and he chased his. The tiredness was finally catching up to you, your body was turning limp underneath him, you were just trying to hold on until he cums. It wasn’t long though before you felt him throbbing and twitching inside your pussy.

“Shit,” he whimpered against your forehead, pumping his cock into your pussy a bit faster. “Mama, I’m about to cum.” You could feel another orgasm coming down on you. You didn't know why but you were surely about to cum. You could feel his hips and back muscles flexed with every thrust.

“Mama… I ugh mhmm” he grunted as he released inside your pussy in the condom. One thing you learned about Gojo is that he’s very vocal when he nears his climax. It’s the sexiest thing to ever bless your ears. Your husband was never this vocal with you and honestly you found it to be a bit cute. He whimpered as he pumped his hips until all his cum filled up the condom he wore and then slowly pulled out of you.

“That’s three condoms,” he said and laughed before peppering your face with light kisses. It was silent for a while, until he decided to speak up. “Do you think I’m man enough for you? I fulfilled two of my promises to you, don’t you want me to do the same for the last promise that I made.”

As much as how you wanted to have that talk with him or maybe even consider that maybe his proposal wasn’t a bad one. He fucked your brains out and you’re too tired to have that conversation. “We’ll talk later ok.”

“Alright then, let's get you cleaned up then.”

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

@getosbigballsack 2024

1K notes · View notes

the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 4 months

Text

Crawl Home To Her

Ship: Astarion x fem!Tav/reader

Summary: As awful the feeling of blood on the skin is, sometimes it can be helpful, you have to admit. At least, when it comes to Astarion, blood is always helpful. You'll have to take his word for it—and that's oh so easy bathing with him.

Word Count: 5,461 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+) blood, gore, nudity, sexual & non-sexual touching, bathing each other, soft Astarion, established relationship, brief mention of past sexual encounter, dealing with past trauma, teasing from Karlach, mention of dismemberment, fluff & smut mix

18+ Warnings: brief fingering (f receiving), tiny bit of a hair kink, sensual touching, semi-public sex/nudity

Note: Part 2 of Burns Like Rum is coming soon! But here's a little something to tithe you over until the sequel (Sweet Like Rum) is ready!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Shafts of pale sunlight fell on your face as you walked through the forest, your arms swinging at your sides, small critters running amok in the bushes around you. Birdsong filled your ears, pleasantly light and summery, reminding you distantly of a childhood memory you couldn't quite reach. The weather was warm enough that you were thinking you might have to change into something lighter. The few weapons you had on you were already starting to make you break out into a sweat.

For a day that had started with murder, the weather was surprisingly nice.

You hummed as you walked—the song pulled from your childhood, the words long forgotten but pieces of the melody clunking around in your head. You strung them together the best you could, tapping out a rhythm against your leg.

You were on your way to the waterfall you'd spotted several days ago while hunting. It was small and nothing too violent. The pool it fell into wasn't deep enough to drown you, nor was the flow of water all that fast. You trusted it—and the rock ledge behind it—would suit your purposes quite nicely.

Coming upon the pool was like stepping into one of the fairytales you had heard in your youth, sitting upon your father's knee in a tavern, listening to a traveller tell a story you weren't sure was entirely true.

It was guarded by willow trees with branches that swayed in a breeze you hadn't felt until you came upon them. Pushing the curtain of branches away revealed an almost perfectly circular clearing, the ground covered in vibrant green moss that squished delightfully beneath your feet and sprung back up when you stepped off of it. Patches of flowers sprouted all around, pink and yellow and purple blooms that grew up to the sun. The pool was as blue as the sky above, clear and shallow, surrounded by a few feet of soft white sand. The water shimmered in the sunlight, rippling over the pebbles that covered its floor. From the pool, the water flowed into a thin river that could hardly be called a river and out into the woods.

You sat by the pool's edge and pulled off your boots. They were just as bloody as the rest of you, the sticky and quickly drying substance staining the black leather. You splashed water over them and scrubbed with a cloth you had designated for this purpose that had once been grey.

Only after your boots were clean did you stand back up and step into the soft sand. You wiggled your toes, smiling at the feeling. You breathed in the crisp, sweet air. It smelled faintly of flowers and citrus, a scent that was familiar, though you couldn't place it.

You stripped slowly, hissing and wincing as you tugged at the places where blood had stuck the fabric to your skin. It acted like glue when dry, staining your skin and leaving a mottled pattern across your flesh. The fabric of your shirt had grown stiff with semi-dried blood.

One by one, you pulled off belts and straps holding weapons, the gloves you protected your hands with, your shirt, your trousers—until you were standing naked at the pool's edge. You gave yourself a cursory inspection, searching for any wounds you had acquired in the fighting this morning that you hadn't noticed; it wouldn't be the first time you'd walked away from a fight and realized you were injured only hours later. But, this time, there was nothing.

Usually it was Astarion who noticed you were injured, catching your smell in the air when it shouldn't have been. But you were drenched in so much blood already that you imagined it would have been very hard to pick out your distinct scent.

You waded into the pool, taking your clothes with you, and sat at it's deepest point. Standing, it reached your knees; sitting, it almost came to your shoulders. You scrubbed the blood from your clothes, using the soap you had brought with you.

You watched the blood and soap swirl together in the water and flow toward the river, a thin stream of red and bubbles slipping away from the crimson cloud surrounding you. You almost felt bad to ruin the clarity of the water, but the others—back at camp—were taking far too long to wash the blood from themselves with your limited store of water. This was better, in the long run.

Astarion would have a field day with this if this wasn't goblin blood, you thought to yourself, staring at the blood drifting just below the surface. He would drink it, from time to time, but never happily.

You scrubbed at your clothes until your fingers were stiff and sore and the blood was no longer coming out of the fabric. You inspected them and deemed them clean enough to put back on the moss, spread out so they would dry faster.

To clean yourself, you headed toward the waterfall. You climbed up onto the stone ledge behind it, reveling in the surprisingly gentle spray of water that reached you and the stillness of the water that it fell into, high enough to reach your knees.

You stepped under the water. It cascaded over you, dousing you in its coolness that reminded you of the first time Astarion had ever touched you—

—gentle hands, cascading down your sides—fingers lifting your chin so you would meet his gaze—a kiss to your forehead—a hand on the small of your back—his lips on your own, warmer than you had anticipated—his fingers in your hair, keeping your head off the ground—his hand slipping between your legs—his little giggle when you shuddered beneath him—the pleasured sigh from his lips as he slid inside of you—

Stepping out from underneath the water, you shook your head, banishing the memory. You had spoken recently about all of this. He'd told you, "I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex." He'd said, "I don't want to be just a body for you, darling." And though he'd teased you that you were more than welcome to "sustain yourself" (his words) with your memories of him while he took time away from intimacy, some part of you still felt like you violating his wishes any time it was his body that you thought of, rather than of, well, just him.

You wiped the water from your eyes and knew your tears had mixed in with it; Astarion had been very vulnerable with you, so you knew his reasons for it all. You had two responses: either unbearable sorrow that he had been forced to endure it all (which the current cause of the crushing weight in your chest), or blinding rage that birthed the desire to see Cazador's head on a spear.

You carded your hands through your wet hair, trying to work out the tangles. Your fingers came away covered in watery blood.

"Mind if I join you?"

You jumped, eyes flying open, and looked up. Leaning against the stone wall was the vampire himself, a gentle smile on his face. Gods, how you loved that smile. In this light, you couldn't tell his eyes were red and his fangs were hidden. If you didn't pay attention to how pale he was, you could imagine he was just an elf again—the life he deserved.

Astarion still wore his clothes, which were slowly darkening as they soaked up the spray of water and splattered with as much blood as his handsome face, but his boots were placed neatly next to yours on the moss. He'd cleaned them already; how had you not heard him before?

While he waited for your answer, aware of your admiring gaze on him, he pulled his shirt off over his head, mussing the curls you loved so much. He stripped quickly, nearly falling over when his trouser leg caught on his foot, and left his clothes in a pile on the rock ledge. Perhaps you were imagining things, but his skin looked paler than it had this morning, when you'd been rudely awoken by a horde of goblins invading your camp.

You held your arms open to him. "I'd like that very much."

He stepped into your arms, wrapped his own around your waist, and buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply. "My love," he whispered, his lips against your skin. He kissed your neck softly and pulled away, cupping your face in his hand, to look into your eyes. "Are you alright?"

You nodded. "I'm okay."

"No injuries this time?" Astarion's eyes slid down your naked body, examining, his gaze concerned when it had once been sensual. You felt yourself relax in his arms, at ease with his concern. It felt real, honest in a way you hadn't had a chance to be yet. It was natural, somehow, to be checking each other for injuries in the time you finally caught together, away from the others.

"Not this time," you said, leaning into him. More watery blood dripped from your hair and across his chest, leaving streaks that made it look like he'd just returned from a rather messy feeding.

He kissed the top of your wet head. "Good." He leaned away to smile at you. "I was worried you'd run off to take care of your injuries by yourself, if only to keep me from smelling the blood."

You shook your head. "If only we'd been attacked by something you could drink from, satisfy your hunger for a few days." He smiled weakly and you knew the thought had been on his mind, too. "What about you? Are you okay?"

He spread his arms and did a little twirl for you. You giggled at his antics, glancing over his skin, pleased he was comfortable enough to even be naked with you. "Yes, darling. Not a scratch on me."

The two of you looked at each other, your hair already damp and clinging to your head, and his curls slowly being matted down by the thick mist of the waterfall. His ears poked out, more noticeable than normal.

Astarion bent and picked up your bar of soap. "May I help you wash off all this grime?"

"Please," you said, your voice soft but as loving as you could make it, your eyes fixed firmly on his.

He lathered his hands with soap and scrubbed gently at your skin. His nails, kept trimmed and neat, were hardly more than a light sensation as he worked at the dried blood until it crumbled away from your skin and ran down your body in red rivulets. His touch was soft, caring where it had once been lustful and groping. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his fingers digging into your tired muscles, and held him. You adjusted your hold on him as he moved across your body—an arm draped across his shoulders, a hand on his bicep, your fingers against his chest, your head on his shoulder.

You looked up at Astarion, blinking quickly to keep the water out of your eyes. His gaze remained fixated on your hips as he gently washed off the blood, but he smiled, aware of your stare.

"See something you like?" he asked, tone playful.

"Someone I love," you corrected. He looked up at you, a tender smile growing on his lips. "Someone I love dearly." You leaned close, cupped one side of his face, and kissed the other. "I love you, Astarion."

He kissed your cheek, too. "And I love you." His lips found yours. He kissed you with a sweetness that simultaneously broke your heart and mended it. You wrapped your arms around his waist. He hummed happily into your mouth and cradled the back of your neck.

The pair of you fell into a tight embrace. You felt the adrenaline drain from you and leave you limp in his arms, your hot skin going cold under the water. Despite how suddenly you must have slumped against him, Astarion held you with ease. He gave the crown of your head a quick kiss, then made an unpleasant sound of surprise from the back of his throat.

"Darling, do you mind if I wash your hair? There's an awful lot of goblin blood in it."

You forced yourself to stand up straight on your own, still holding his sides for support. "Oh, yes—that would be from Karlach throwing one she'd just chopped into over my head." Even as you said the words, you felt the blood splattering into your hair again and shuddered.

Astarion grimaced. "Let me help you with it, then." He lathered his hands and put them in your hair. As he fell into a rhythm, you closed your eyes and let him doing the work, your thoughts drifting...

At first, you weren't sure why you had even woken in the first place. The light coming in through a crack in the tent's opening was still the watery and grey color of pre-dawn, much earlier than you usually woke. You frowned and pushed back into Astarion, his arm squeezing you tighter, sleep once again tugging at your eyelids.

And then you heard a shout, vicious and loud. It was close to camp, maybe even in camp. The shout came again and you realized it was Lae'zel's war cry.

All at once, the sounds of a battle filled your ears. You jerked awake in an instant, clambering onto your knees and shaking Astarion awake next to you. Of course the one day Astarion decided to indulge in the very human activity of sleep was the day you and your friends were attacked.

"What's going on?" he mumbled as his eyes flickered open, his words slurred together.

"Come on, grab your knives," you said, pulling your lightest set of armor on over your clothes. You were suddenly very relieved Astarion had decided skin to skin contact was a bit too much for him last night. "I think we're under attack."

He woke just as quickly as you had. He swore, dragged a quick hand through his hair, and grabbed his knives. He waited until you had your own weapon in hand before he opened the curtain flap of his tent.

The camp was a sight to behold. Already it was trashed and overflowing with goblins. Some were already on the ground, their blood oozing everywhere in the dirt and grass. Gashes from Lae'zel's sword seeped blood and gristle, if she hadn't horribly disfigured the corpses and turned them into little more than lumps of flesh. Many of them bore scorch marks that ranged from minor burns to melting flesh. It smelled horrendous and nearly acidic; you bit back the bile in your throat.

A dismembered arm fell at your foot. You kicked it away on instinct, looking up to see Karlach ripping a second goblin limb from limb.

"Now that's just vile," Astarion said, still looking at the arm, a fang poking out over his curled lip.

"Complain about it later," you said, grabbing his chin and giving him a quick and customary 'good morning' kiss. "We've got to help the others."

"If you insist."

Astarion ran to Karlach's side; you headed for Shadowheart and Gale. Wyll was approaching, too, cutting a path through the goblins.

"Morning, you two!" you said cheerily. "How'd this happen?"

"We're not sure," Shadowheart said, kicking a goblin in the face as it ran at her with a scream. "Lae'zel said they came from the north, just over those hills."

"Odd. I wonder if we camped too close to them for their liking, and now they're trying to do something about it. Are goblins territorial creatures?"

Gale grunted, casting another fireball. "Enough chatting. Let's just kill these things and figure out where they came from and why later. Got it?"

"Fair enough," you decided. "Whoever kills the most chooses dinner for a week."

"I'll take you up on that," Wyll said from behind you. "I'm dreaming of a good meal for once."

Astarion's hands sliding out of your hair abruptly brought you back to reality, to his body pressed against yours and the waterfall at your back, shielding the two of you from the world.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, voice soft. You could feel his fingers toying with the ends of your hair, curling it on his fingers.

"Back to the fight," you admitted. "I just keep wondering how they snuck up on us."

"No matter now," he said. "We'll let Lae'zel criticize us all for not anticipating every possible disaster when we get back, but not yet. Not here."

He went back to massaging your scalp, despite the blood being long gone, and your sighed happily. He smiled and kissed your forehead, adding pressure. A content whimper slipped from your lips and you blushed instantly as his eyes lit up; he'd heard far more obscene from you, yet still the slightest sounds you made embarrassed you and delighted him.

"My, my, the noises you make for me, lover," he teased, giggling. He wrapped his hand in your hair and tugged, hard enough to draw a loud moan out of your chest.

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes playfully wide. "Shhh, unless you want the others to come looking. We're not that far away from camp."

Heat rushed through your body. "Oh, gods, Astarion, I'm— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to— And I certainly didn't expect it to be that...that loud—! I..."

He swallowed your frantic apologies with a kiss. Against your lips, he whispered, "If you can keep quiet, though...I can grant you all the pleasure you want. You need only ask, darling."

Your heart skipped several beats in your chest. You put your hand up to his face. "Oh, I don't... Star, I don't need you to, I wouldn't want you to...feel obligated." He pulled his forehead away from yours to see your face. "We agreed not to do anything until you're ready. And that wasn't that long ago, so... I don't want you to be uncomfortable—"

Astarion cupped your chin with his hand, dragging his thumb across your lower lip. The words died in your throat. He met your gaze, his crimson eyes open and honest, and said, "Your pleasure is a gift. Even if I don't want to be touched yet, that's not stopping me from touching you. Only you can stop me from touching you."

"Star..."

He pulled you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around him, suddenly too aware of the raised scar you felt against your arms. "I trust you. Wholeheartedly. I trust you to...to respect my boundaries. To check in with me. To see when I'm uncomfortable. You've already done it, again and again, and proved that you're worthy of that trust. And do I look uncomfortable now?"

You studied him. His pupils were blown. His eyes told a story of contentment. The tenseness you had once noticed laying deep and dormant in his muscles was gone. He looked at you with a fondness you realized now was a profound trust and he stood utterly relaxed in your arms.

So you answered him honestly. "No."

"Exactly, darling. I'm not uncomfortable. I want to do this for you, if that's what you also want. I feel...safe with you. I've never felt like this around anyone before," he admitted, a bit of sadness creeping onto his face, "and I don't want to ruin it. I don't know... I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm going to try to do right by you. So if you want me..." He placed his hand low on your abdomen. Your stomach did flips. He put his lips against the shell of your ear. "Tell me, darling, because I certainly want you. All I ask is that you not touch me, not just yet."

You whimpered. "Please, Star. I promise not to touch you, I promise. But please touch me."

"That's my girl," he whispered. "Spread your legs for me, no need to be so nervous."

You readjusted your stance, widening the space between your previously clenched thighs. His hand filled the gap, cupping you gently. You sighed, leaning your head against his chest again, looking down to watch his ministrations.

Astarion pressed his palm to your clit. You watched his wrist move as he slid his fingers along your slit, teasing you and never quite touching you where you needed him. You whimpered as his fingertip lightly ghosted your entrance, just barely dipping inside before he moved his hand back up, his fingers toying with your clit.

"That's it," he whispered in your ear. "Make those quiet, pretty sounds for me. Show me how you feel."

You rocked your hips against his hand. "Astarion, please..."

He kissed your temple. "Feeling good?"

Your broken moan was your answer. He chuckled, sliding his hand up your side, taking your breast in the palm of his hand. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you gasp and buck your hips against him. He closed his lips around it and sucked gently.

"More," you whispered. "Please. I need...I need you."

"Alright, darling, alright," he said against your skin. He rubbed your entrance for another moment, then slid his finger inside you. You clenched down on him as you sighed your pleasure. He curled his finger inside you, rubbing away at your walls, and you gasped loudly.

Astarion grinned. "Make those noises. Moan for me. I want you to show me how good this feels, show me you want me." You gripped tightly onto him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip. Your breaths grew heavy and your whimpers louder. "Yes, that's it! Be loud for me, my sweet, the loudest you've ever—"

A branch cracked in the forest. A voice called out your name, then Astarion's. You jumped a mile and Astarion's finger slipped out of you. You stared at each other with wide eyes.

"D...did you hear that?" you asked. "Or am I hearing things?"

As if an answer, the voice—Gale's—shouted again, "I know you're over here, I can see your boots!"

"Shit," Astarion sighed. He craned his head to peer around the curtain of water. "What the hells do you want?"

"Is she with you?" Gale asked. "Shadowheart sent me to find you both, the rest of us have all finished washing up! There's water left for you."

"That's what we're trying to do, Gale!" you called, reaching an arm through the waterfall and waving at him. "Use the water for something else, we'll make do here."

He harrumphed. "If I had known this was just a few minutes away from camp, I would have come to wash up here ages ago."

You and Astarion exchanged a look. So much for a secret getaway spot.

"Be back soon, or Karlach will start worrying," Gale said, in the tone of a chiding parent. "And no funny business!"

"Oh, shut up!" Astarion shouted, the tips of his ears turning a deep pink. He ducked behind the water again and holding you close. You barely held back your giggles while the two of you listened for Gale to walk away. One slipped out and Astarion hurriedly covered your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm and he pulled it away quickly. "You weirdo!"

You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into his chest. "Yes, but I'm your weirdo. You love me anyway."

Astarion pushed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear. "I love you anyway," he admitted, with a fondness that turned you into mush in his arms. He held you close for several moments, then asked, "Do you want me to continue?"

You thought about it, then shook your head. "Not just now. I suspect Karlach will be on her way to investigate the waterfall I didn't have the decency tell anyone about very soon."

"Very well," he said. "I'll finish you off later in my tent, then. As long as you can keep quiet for me, darling." He gave you that charming smile that made your stomach do flips.

"I thought you liked me loud," you teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, playful and flirtation in such a comfortable way that it warmed your heart more than any of his touches ever could, delightful as they were. "Only when I have you all to myself, lover." He nipped at your neck, his fangs scratching but not breaking your skin. "Your moans are mine."

You stood together like that for several more moments, his hands on your hips and your arms looped around his neck, your foreheads pressed together. You exchanged dainty kisses, basking in each other in the few minutes left you had alone.

At last, you planted one firm, lingering kiss to his lips. "Let me clean you off," you said. "Though you're going to have to crouch for me to get your hair." Most of the blood and grime had been washed away by the waterfall's spray, but his silver hair was still speckled with it all, and you could taste it on his lips—sour and gritty. No wonder he only drank from goblins as a last resort.

Astarion bent his head down, pressing his forehead into your shoulder and holding you by the waist. You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and smiling (but saying nothing) every time your touch managed to pull a soft whimper or moan from him without him realizing it.

You washed his body anyway, wiping away the remaining grime and massaging his muscles. You enjoyed the way he relaxed in your arms, quietly asking for more or less pressure.

"My back," he said, voice quiet and almost timid. "Can you...?"

"Are you sure?" you asked, frowning.

He nodded and turned in your arms, exposing his back to you. You started slowly, massaging his upper back and shoulders before working your way down, giving him plenty of time to tell you to stop if he needed to. But he leaned into your touch and responded with more of those gentle and timid—but happy—sounds.

You kissed the nape of his neck when you were finished, rested your head against his back, and wrapped your arms around his waist. His hands found yours and laced your fingers together.

"Thank you, my love," he said. "I've never... No one has ever done that for me before."

You hugged him tighter. "Any time you need me—I'm here. I will always be here." You stepped away and guided him out of the water with a hand. "Come on, we should head back."

The pair of you helped each other dress, though neither of you were wearing anything that required the help. You suspected Astarion just wanted to keep you close; when he got into his cuddly moods, it lasted for hours at a time. You would sleep wrapped up in your vampire's arms, safe and comfortable, tonight.

You were both pulling on your boots when Karlach found you.

"There you are!" she said. "Why didn't you tell us where you'd run off to?"

You shrugged. "I wanted the peace and quiet," you said honestly. "Besides, you all take forever to clean off."

Astarion snickered. "She's right about that."

Karlach sat on the moss, staring at the waterfall. "Well, you're right about one thing, soldier—this place is peaceful."

You hummed your agreement. "Yes. I'm glad we camped near it, or I never would have found it."

"How did you find this place?" she asked.

"Hunting," you said.

"Really? I assumed it must have been when you and Astarion sneak out so the rest of us can't hear you having sex." You choked on air and she laughed. "What? He found it easily!"

Astarion spluttered. "Because I could smell her!"

You sighed. "Karlach, we stopped sneaking off ages ago. We don't need to, we sleep in the same tent now. Rest assured, if anything is happening, it's happening silently and the rest of you are none the wiser to it."

"That doesn't make me rest assured."

You laughed. Astarion smiled at you, the kind of smile that made his eyes seem a little less dark and made you really remember that he was an elf.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm going back to camp," he said. "I'm sure there's much to discuss about these...impertinent creatures who keep attacking us." He kissed your cheek and whispered into your ear, "I'll see you tonight, darling. What we do is up to you."

Before he could leave, you reached over and held his cheek, kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled into it.

"Lovebirds," Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes, "will you please get a room?"

"The next time we stop at an inn—yes," Astarion said, winked at you, then disappeared into the woods.

You gulped. "I pity whoever is in the room next to us."

Karlach snorted. "I pity you and your poor cervix!"

"Karlach!" You splashed her with water and she roared with laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Only slightly."

You huffed, scooped up your weapons, and started back to camp. Karlach followed.

"I mean, in all honesty, you two were so loud that first time we all heard you at camp, even though you snuck away. Kept us all awake, but you sounded like you were having a good time. So clearly he's doing something right, but can you take all of that every time? You were walking with a limp the next morning—"

"Okay, let's change the subject," you said loudly, heat racing through your body. Remembrance pulsed through you again, ghostly touches and reminders of just how easily Astarion made you scream.

She giggled. Gods, she was spending too much time with you and Astarion; he was rubbing off on her. "Oh, yes, because what would poor Gale say if he heard?"

You rolled your eyes. "It's not Gale I'm worried about, it's Astarion. If he hears you, he's going to become insufferable."

"Isn't he already?"

You whacked her with the flat end of your sheathed dagger. She laughed, putting her hands up in surrender.

The others were cleaning up camp when you arrived, scrubbing blood from tents and carpets and hauling away corpses and severed limbs.

Gale waved when he saw you, then jerked his thumb toward Astarion. "Didn't he just wash?"

You looked over at your vampire, only to find him feeding on a goblin. He looked up at you and grinned sheepishly, a trickle of blood sliding out of his mouth and down his neck.

"I just washed him, actually," you said dryly. "Astarion, you aren't that messy of an eater. What on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, so now you deign to eat the goblins," Karlach scoffed.

He shrugged. "What? I'm hungry!"

You spluttered. "You could have just asked me!"

Astarion wiped his mouth with a feral grin. "Well, I'll keep that in mind later, darling." He winked at you and then blew you a quick kiss. He shoved the carcass into the woods and went into his tent, closing the flap behind him.

Gale sighed heavily before looking back at you. "That one. Are you sure you want to choose that one?"

"Yes, Gale, I want that one."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

~❊~

Night fell. One by one, the others retired to their tents. Only Karlach and Gale remained awake when you left the fire and slipped into Astarion's tent.

He was laying on his side, reading and drinking blood, the picture of leisure. He closed his book immediately when you laid beside him and pulled you flush against his body.

"There you are," he said, snuggling into your shoulder. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

You reached up and dragged your fingers through his perfect curls. "You don't have to wonder about that ever, Star. As long as I live, I'll be coming home to you. Even if I have to crawl."

"Gods, I love you," he said, wrapping himself around you. You kissed the top of his head.

"I love you, too," you whispered. He sighed happily and cuddled into you, sliding one of his legs between your own and settling there. A few minutes later, you felt the pressure of his knee against your clothed crotch. "What are you doing, mister?"

He grinned at you, showing both fangs. "Finishing what I started," he said cheekily. He began undoing the lacing at the front of your pants. "Now, just lay still for me, dear. And please do your best to keep quiet—I'd hate to have to cover that pretty mouth with my hand. Again."

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel @cheeslyy @ofmyth-andmagicart @neetheslayer @whispering-depths @freesidexjunkie @lightsinmycity @the0ldmann @gobbodoggo @oooof-ifellforyou @beeblisss @fangboner @aquaarietes @fiercest-eigengrau-skies @niqhtfell @call-me-nyxx @lueji-m @ceres-xiv @tricksy-trinity @graynstairs @rosa-rubus @ynisthatyou

1K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 2 months

Note

grumpy beefy mando falling for soft!reader in her “grandma era” - all she wants to do is crochet, bake and frolic around the galaxy with mando and grogu 🫶🏽

"He doesn't like hats."

You glance up at Din from where you're testing a length of crocheted stitches beneath Grogu's chin, ensuring that the hat inspired by the local flora of the forest planet you've found shelter on won't fall off if he gets too rigorous in his play.

Grogu coos beneath the flower hat, but whether it's in agreement or protest you can't tell.

"He likes this one," You decide, when the little green terror before you doesn't fight as you maneuver his ears through their designated slots, "And he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't want to."

Your fingers slip the little white button through the slot you've left in the band, and the hat is secured around Grogu's chin; the cutest little flower you ever did see.

"Oh, honey," You gush, scooping the child up and tucking him into your arms, "You wanna see your hat? C'mere, let's look."

You crouch in front of the tree stump that Din has settled on, holding Grogu up to the man's beskar chest plate. It's freshly polished, but not completely reflective, so at the right angle, Grogu catches a blurry, slightly distorted version of himself in a very pink hat.

His legs are still too small to kick in excitement, but his arms pick up the slack, flapping about while copious amounts of baby babble streams from his mouth. Evidently he's pleased with your handiwork.

Din stays silent while he offers his armor up for Grogu's viewing pleasure, but the child's hands soon find the soft strap beneath his chin and tug.

"I told you he didn't like hats..." Din murmurs, not to be cruel, but to fill empty space in the air when your shoulders deflate slightly.

"I thought he'd like it if it was softer," You hum sadly, helping Grogu take the button out of its clasp so that he can tug the hat off of his head, "I just figured he didn't like the helmet you gave him because it was uncomfortable."

As soon as you've freed Grogu from the confines of his flowery prison his hands slap against the shiny metal of Din's armor. He takes the child out of your hands but Grogu keeps his hat tightly clutched in his fist, and, with valiant effort, pushes the hat into Din's helmet, insistently cooing something that sounds suspiciously like buir.

Your giddiness returns, and you circle Din like a hawk, "Oh, you want your buir to wear it? Let's see," Amidst Din's protests you balance the too-small cap on his helmet, and he stills if only to save the hat from slipping and dying a muddy death on the ground below.

"It doesn't fit me." He grumbles, body stiff as he keeps it balanced on his head. Grogu seems pleased with his buir's new headpiece, squealing and showing off his newly-emerged teeth in a grin.

"I'll make you a matching one!" You declare, snatching the hat off of his helmet to give him the freedom of movement again, "Grogu, baby, what color should Din's be?"

"Bah!" Grogu decides, and your steps still where you're racing back towards your shelter.

"Uh... how about purple?" You suggest, and another resounding 'Bah.' is all the encouragement you need.

669 notes · View notes

thebimbopalace · 11 days

Text

ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: finals week has put you through the wringer but luckily your handsome, wonderful, caring boyfriend has a special treat for you.

wc: 1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: fluffy fluff, sfw, older bf!nanami kento x fem!reader, established relationship, age gap (reader: early twenties, nanami: late twenties), reader’s in college, feminine pet names, teeny angst, one kiss, self-indulgent cause i wanna be loved like this

"keep those eyes closed hun," kento's honeyed voice hits your eardrums as his large hand envelopes yours. he guides you to. . .god knows where, all you know is that you're outside. the soft, calming breeze flows through your hair gently blowing your flowy pink spring dress behind you.

his eyes scan your beautiful ensemble and he thanks whatever deity that's in the sky that you happened to walk into his life one friday afternoon. "are we there yet ken?" you inquire excitedly as you tighten your grip on his hand. he smiles at your excitement "almost," as he tries to stifle a chuckle at your cuteness.

his free hand goes the the small of your back moving you in front of him as you both walk to this destination he spoke of earlier. his expensive cologne invades your nostrils and your body immediately relaxes at the close proximity. "can you at least tell me where we're going?" trying to coax it out of him. "then it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"

a pretty pout graces your glossed lips as you turn your head to scrunch your already closed eyes at him in a glare. "over here pretty girl," kento teases noticing you turned your head in the wrong direction. you follow the sound of his voice and turn your head in the correct direction of his face, adorable pout still adorning your lips.

"don't pout baby, i promise you'll love it," he chuckles as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. your pout is replaced by a small smile that effectively melts kento's heart into a puddle of goo. you let him lead you to this mystery he's set up. the walk is silent as you take in the sounds of nature. the rustling of the grass as the light air rakes through it, the birds chirping along with the trickle of water in the distance.

you haven't felt this calm in months. college has been a thorn in your side for a while and now that you took all your finals, you're agonizing over your final grades, wanting nothing more than to pass. kento knows this. he's seen how hard you've worked. hours of studying, late nights, and those stressed tears that broke his heart with each stream down your cheeks.

he'd catch each escaped drop with the pads of his thumbs as you were nestled in his lap in a comforting hold. in his arms, you knew nothing would harm you, especially sunday 11:59 pm due dates. and when you submitted your last final exam yesterday, he knew he had to do something big for his special girl. his only girl.

"okay, stop," he utters and your feet come to a halt. you feel the sun kissing your skin as you stand next to kento waiting with nervous-excited butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "open your eyes, baby," he whispers. his candied voice filling your senses increasing the jittery feeling in your gut.

you open your eyes, pupils adjusting to the sunlight and what you see takes your breath away.

a picnic. a beautiful picnic assembled on a vast green field beside multiple tall apple trees. a white plaid picnic blanket is laid flat with various foods. gourmet sandwiches arranged scrumptiously on a sliver oval platter, a full charcuterie board that includes various deli meats, crackers, cheeses, and fruits, a bottle of wine alongside two long-stem wine glasses, and a circle-shaped frosted cake with 'you did it pretty girl!' written in red icing.

not to mention the big bouquet of flowers that lay next to the picnic basket. your favorite flowers at that.

"kento," you mutter softly in disbelief. he really knows how to take your breath away. warmth spreads through your cells, filling you with affection for your lover. no matter how many times he surprises you, no matter how many times he shows you how much he loves you, it never fails to make you tear up.

he pulls you smoothly into his embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. you bury your face into the crook of his neck. "wha—when did—," "last week," cutting you off. "i know college has been putting you through so much hun, i jus' wanted to treat you for working so hard, my smart girl," he coos the last part softly then proceeds to pepper kisses all over your head. like he's kissing your overworked brain.

that feeling of love and safety spreads through your veins like molasses. you savor the feeling. "i don't deserve you ken," you mumble quietly hoping he doesn't hear the insecure tilt in your tone. oh, but he did. his hands trace the curve of your waist sliding up until they reach your cheeks. he cups them in his calloused palms, thumbs stroking the apples of them.

"nonsense sweetheart. not only do you deserve me, but you deserve the world. and i'm going to give it to you, from now until my last breath." loving but determined. nanami kento in a nutshell. and that makes any remnants of insecurity vacate your mind. to prove his point, kento leans in and presses his soft lips against your glossy plump ones in a tender kiss.

not one of lust, not one of eroticism, one of affection. a kiss that says 'you are my love, my heart, my soul, my everything.'

he pulls back, interlocks your fingers in his, and guides you to the picnic blanket. you move to sit down, but not before he places a pillow below you so you don't have to sit on the hard ground. a gentleman through and through. "c'mon hun, can't let this food go to waste, can we?" as he sits on a pillow next to you.

"not with our appetites," you chuckle as you grab a cracker off the charcuterie board and poke a toothpick into a slice of ham. kento laughs with you as he gazes at you fondly. he believes this is where he's meant to be. on a blanket, with you, eating and drinking as the horizon turns orange in front of you both.

and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #kento fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

484 notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 6 months

Note

Hello! Can we please have some more baby Rosie and Miguel fluff

Baby Cares with Miguel

Rosie Michelle O'Hara.

His eyes reread over and over the birth certificate. His third child, another sunshine in his life. There were no longer dark days, as they were buried just like his solitude, fifteen years back.

Looking at his daughter invaded him with such a strange yet overwhelming reaction. A piece of him and you, melded together and shaped in the form he was seeing like a total idiot.

A soft smile that widened as his baby yawned, eyes that would turn only soft and loving to you and your children, being the only worthy of his unbridled and unconditional love.

He had to rub his face to try and get the sappiness out, but to his little to no surprise, it didn't work. Rosie had your eyes shape, but his color and lips. She had your skin tone, but had Miguel's bushy eyebrows. Rosie had Miguel's stubbornness, but she had your way of worming out into his heart, just like you had done all those years ago and your pretty smile that always managed to disarm him.

To his eyes, his little flower, his Rosita Fresita, was perfect.

Even if she was looking at him with curious eyes while warm water doused her little head. Rosie was on a bee shaped sink, tepid water soaking her, her tiny hand wrapped around Miguel's wrist as her head snuggled on his wide and gentle hand. Smiling at him every time he spoke to her while he brushed the sudsy substance all over her pretty head full of waves and curls.

Her hair was the only part of her that was still deciding which part of your genes would win.

Her tongue peeked upon water splashing gently on her face to then turn into a little pout.

"What's wrong, cielito lindo? Water is getting cold?"

A coo as he lathered a tissue under her neck.

"Don't worry, mi niña. We're almost done."

His voice was like a lullaby for Rosie. Her eyes drooped lazily. The smile was back on as he hummed a little tune, she loved hearing him. Even before born, her fussing whenever Miguel spoke to her turned a bit more intense. Sometimes she kicked a bit too hard whenever you saw off Miguel to work. A silent yet powerful 'Papa, stay.'

Rosie loved Miguel's chest, It was yours and Gabi's favorite place to sleep. Benjamin always preferred his abdomen or his back as a personal pillow.

His baby was wrapped comfortably in a towel, the ever pondering rusty brown eyes stared at him as if asking him, 'What's next, Papa?'

Miguel propped Rosie in her crib carefully, to then look into her little closet. Drawers full of either pink, red and white clothes. He pulled out a pale pink onesie, with little flowers imprinted around it, her diaper and some sweet scented baby cologne.

Miguel pat dried Rosie, marveled at his own part of the creation, admiring his daughter for the umpteenth time.

"I know, I know I said the other pink, but this one looks better. Trust your Papa."

Another smile, his heart melted. He was lucky today to receive such gift. He poured some lotion and rubbed her arms, legs, tummy and under her neck, leaving a gentle and sweet strawberry fragrance on her.

He then changed her into the onesie and buttoned the little things, even if his fingers took what it felt forever in buttoning one, the results always left him speechless. He finished dressing her up with a lovely rose bandana on her hair.

Then, he proceeded with making her bottle. He pulled out one of the bags, filled with enough breast milk to preheat it to the right temperature to feed her. You were too exhausted to be awake, it's been a couple of days since you returned from the hospital, understandably so, you needed a break.

After all, you had prepared to shut down for a couple of days, letting him to handle it. And so far his job as a father had been wonderful.

Rosie's cheeks trembled as soon as she latched on the bottle. Her hand seemed to have taken a like to his wrist, like if she was anchoring to him. Finally holding on her dear Papa.

Miguel was sitting on the rocking chair, still while Rosie ate. Snuggled in a fraction of his strong and gentle arms, sucking the life out of that bottle that had no match against your warm and homey breast. Her eyes looked up while she ate. Admiring him. Taking in every fraction of his face.

So this is Papa.

Surely she'd say.

He didn't know how, but the non verbal communication always seemed an easy thing for him, and excelled whenever it came to babies.

"I know, you want your mother Mija, but she's exhausted." A little grunt in protest, Miguel laughed softly, "It's only temporary, I swear. Let Mama catch a break, ok?"

Her rising grunts were placated by a kiss on her forehead. Eventually, Rosie fell asleep after Miguel patted her back with such tenderness he'd never (even to this day) felt possible to achieve.

Her little burps sent a proud shimmy in his heart.

And now, he put her back to the crib, draping a blanket over her deep sleeping daughter.

"Que descanses, Rosita." (Rest well, Rosita)

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#rosie o'hara #mama o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff

776 notes · View notes

strangersmunsons · 3 months

Text

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 1 Prompt: Flowers 💐 ~ 1,000 words Eddie surprises you with a bouquet of flowers.

You sigh as you trudge to the front door, stomping the excess snow off of your boots before entering the house. After a long, cold day, all you really want is to curl up on the couch with a cup of hot tea.

All your outerwear is stripped off and hung, melted snow dripping little puddles on the hardwood floor. You quickly change into a pair of comfier clothes, seat yourself in the living room, and flick the TV on.

You’ve made it halfway through one episode of mind-numbing television when the front door pushes open again.

Eddie’s here.

You’re still getting used to that. There used to be someone, then for a long time there wasn’t anyone, and then Eddie came into your life, which meant that someone was…here, again.

He looks handsome, as he always does, when he comes in and finds you. He’s all warm, dimpled smile and puppy eyes, and the bit of scruff he neglected to shave off gives you a delightful scratch when he leans down and kisses you hello.

One hand is carrying a crinkly plastic bag, which he holds firmly behind his back, while the other hand softly cups your cheek.

“Hey,” he says quietly, rubbing his nose lightly against yours.

“Hi,” you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Did you stay warm today?”

“I did. Had my hand warmers and everything,” he reassures you.

You give him a little squeeze. “Good.”

He kisses your cheek. “By the way, I have something for you,” he says slyly, straightening back up.

You blink, confused. “Oh?”

He pulls the bag out from behind his back, holding whatever the object is from its bottom. Then he bunches the plastic down around his fist, so you can get a clear look at what’s inside.

Eddie is holding a bouquet of flowers.

It’s a mix of large and small blooms, ranging in color from white to pale pink to deep maroon. Some are roses, and you guess at the others. You think the small ones might be baby's breath, and the larger ones, dahlias, perhaps? You’re not sure. Whatever they are, they’re beautiful.

You simply stare at the fragrant blossoms, lips slightly parted.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks gently. “You good?”

“Yes,” you manage, an awestruck smile slowly unfurling across your face. “Those are for me?”

Eddie laughs kindly. “Of course they are,” he teases. “You see anyone else in here?”

A wave of unexpected emotion washes over you, and a lump rises in your throat. You rub at your temple with a shaky hand, embarrassed by your own intense reaction.

“No one I’ve been with has ever gotten me flowers before,” you admit.

Eddie visibly softens. “Well, I don’t know how that could be, but I’m honored to be the first.” He removes the grocery bag entirely and lets it drift to the floor, handing you the bouquet. “Thought it’d be appropriate for today.”

“Appropriate,” you murmur, sniffing delicately at a silky rose, eyes shining with happiness. “What do you mean?”

“Uhh…have you looked at the calendar today?”

Something in his voice snaps you out of your reverie, and you drag your gaze away from your pretty flowers to his amused expression.

He cocks his head to the side. “It’s the 14th, baby.”

It takes a second, but it finally dawns on you. Your heart lurches.

“Oh my God,” you mumble. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize —”

Eddie cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “That’s okay. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ve been meanin’ to get you flowers at some point, anyway.”

His smile tells you that everything is okay. You decide to believe it.

You hold the bouquet delicately, handling it as though it were priceless. Eddie follows you into the kitchen, where you pull your only vase out from its place beneath the sink. You blow a speck of dust off the glass rim, and fill it with water.

Then, after carefully peeling the cellophane away from the bundle, you lay the flowers aside on the counter.

“You have to cut the stems at an angle, so they absorb the water better,” you explain to Eddie as you rifle around the junk drawer for your kitchen shears.

Eddie watches your ministrations with tender affection. “Oh, yeah? How does that work?”

You pause your movements. “I don’t know, actually,” you confess. “That’s just what my mom taught me.”

You proceed with cutting away the excess stems, and move the flowers into the vase, trying to arrange them exactly as they were when Eddie presented them to you. When they look right, you place them in the center of your kitchen table.

“There.”

Eddie stands back and admires your handiwork. You step in front of him and move in close, so that your middles are nearly touching.

“Thank you, Eddie. They’re really beautiful.”

Your eyes are wide, desperate for him to understand the gravity of the gesture, and how very much it means to you.

But he knows. He always knows.

He closes the space and pulls you in tight, wrapping his arms around you, so that his hands settle at the small of your back, fingers laced together so as to keep you there forever.

“Do you really like them? ‘Cause when I was at the store, I had a way bigger one at first. It was all huge red and pink flowers. And then a lady in the checkout line told me I should pick a different one, since carnations are apparently tacky.”

You press your face against his chest. “That’s silly. I’d like your carnations too, Eddie.”

“‘They’re filler flowers,’ is what she said.”

You chuckle at his disgruntled tone, and the sound muffled is against his t-shirt. “Nevermind her. And to answer your question, yes, I really like them. I love them.”

Eddie notches a finger under your chin and tilts your head upwards. “I love you,” he tells you for the first time, and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

480 notes · View notes

moonlightsolo · 1 year

Note

Can you do one of neteyam and avatar reader you love art so he lets you paint on him and he’s really cute and interested in your passion <3

omg yes THANK U FOR THIS. i love to paint irl so i had so much fun writing this!

your legs straddle neteyams hips, sitting atop of him as he lays down on his back against a bed of moss. it’s normal to sit on him like this when you’re simply having a conversation, especially when he comes back after a long day of hunting; he usually swoops you off of your feet and takes you somewhere private in the forest. mostly to catch up…

…and to do some other things you can’t usually do around camp. he knows you miss him when he’s away, so we wants to soak up as much of you during his free time.

your hands are currently busy illustrating your day as you talk, “so kiri and i made paints today, we went out and foraged for plants to create these super bright pigments!” you exclaim excitedly, “i have pinks, blues, reds, oranges, even whites!” you count on your fingers, “they’re all so beautiful. i just can’t wait to try them out.”

neteyam watches you in awe from his position, a permanent grin on his lips. he adores you so much, and hearing you passionately ramble about one of your hobbies fills his heart with joy.

“my love, you are sooooo beautiful.” he blurts out, his eyes sparkle under the sunlight that streaks through the trees towering above your bodies. he can’t help but let his hand knead at your thigh.

you can’t help but giggle at his compliment as you stare down at him, “did you hear anything i just said?”

the boy underneath you hums in response, the sound vibrates your body, “yeah… you made paints with kiri… blah, blah, blah, aaand now i wanna see you make somethin’ with them.”

your face brightens at his words, “wait really?!” you shriek softly from the pure excitement that fills you.

neteyam cackles and digs his head back into the ground, “yes, of course, ma syulang.” the little nickname makes your heart flutter in satisfaction. his flower.

“where? i can go back to camp real quick to grab some paper— or try to find something around here…” your eyes look around the expanse of the jungle around you, but the tightening grip on your hips makes you spin your head back to look down at him.

“no, i don’t want you to leave me.” he whines as his touchy hands slide up your sides. his fingers press into the flesh of your lower back to push you towards him, lowering your torso so your chests are flush again each other.

his lips ghost over yours teasingly, making you giggle into the very little space between your faces. “how about you just use me?” he mumbles.

“use you? what do you mean?” your face crinkles in confusion, slightly lifting up from his face by pushing your hands on his chest.

“to paint— ya know, on me.” his eyes flutter over your face with a sheepish grin.

“you want me to paint on you?” you almost gasp in shock, mouth falling open as you grin.

“i just said that.” neteyam rolls his eyes playfully with a cheeky smirk, which makes you swat at his chest. you finally fill the space between your faces by kissing him, giving him a long peck before sitting up.

neteyams lips chase after yours, following you up and leaning back on his elbows. you busy yourself looking through the bag that crosses over your chest and sits on your hip. you grab the containers of your paint, and push down on his shoulder to have him lay back down.

“fine..” he grumbles, giving up his advances to try and kiss you some more. you lay out the containers over the long expanse of his torso, using him as your easel.

you pluck a few brushes from the pocket inside your bag, smiling as your finger brushes over the soft bristles. “what do you want painted on you?” your voice is soft, almost nervous.

what if it turns out to be ugly and he has to walk around with an ugly painting on his body from his girlfriend?

“anything.” he lays back with his arms behind his head, slightly wiggling his hips under you to get comfortable. the subtle movement makes you blush from the heat that settles in your lower belly.

you pop open the bright fuschia color, dipping your brush inside of the container to soak the brush. your eyes dart over his smug face as you lean closer to his chest to focus.

the brush moves smoothly across the expanse of his upper body, swirling the paint over his collarbone and down his pectoral muscle, “ooh that tickles.” he jerks under the paintbrush, making you giggle and sit up to look at him with a joking scowl.

“sit still, you’re gonna mess up my art.” you slightly dip into the orange color to highlight the pink, flicking the paint to make little spikes around the swirl.

neteyam admires your face as you focus, almost cooing at you from your little tongue sticking out between your lips. he tilts his head to the side watch your tail sway in the air behind you. all he wants is to grab you and kiss all over your cute little face.

one of his hands unravel from behind his head to rest on top of your head, his thumb swipes across your forehead to smooth out the crinkle between your eyebrows.

you smile up at him bashfully while your hand continues to paint different colors across his striped blue skin. the pigments you picked out contrast greatly to the color of his skin, his chest slowly becoming a piece of art.

the brush pokes at his chest as you create random dots around the swirls, smiling when you sit back to admire your work. “i love it.” you mumble before hunching back down to continue with a different color.

neteyams eyes dart from between you and the blue sky that barely peeks through the canopy of the trees. he can look at all the beauty around him but all he can focus on is you. the girl who is straddling his chest and painting ever so softly across his skin.

he wouldn’t dare to tell you this though. he’s too scared to share his true feelings that he's falling for you faster than he thinks you're falling for him.

after about a few more minutes, and swipes of different colors you sit up to examine the painting that cascades down his chest. you add a few more dots with a triumphant smile, “i really outdid myself.” you laugh proudly as you pack away your painting supplies.

“oh did you?” neteyam chuckles, bringing his chin down to look over his colorful chest. his mouth drops dramatically once he sees it, “it’s amazing. seriously, you’re going to paint only me from now on. never will anybody else touch me with paint unless it’s from your hands.”

your hands cover your grin that seemingly seems like it will never falter, “stop it…” you breathe out, shaking your head from his silly words.

“no, you’re like magic. i’ve seen your other work, but i cannot grasp how your brilliant little mind works like this.” he sits up from his spot, now face-to-face with you; he’s careful to not crease the wet paint. one of his hands grip your wrists to pull them away from your face.

“‘teyam…” you sheepishly mumble, staring down at your lap with a shy smile. the feeling of heat travels from your lower belly to your upper extremities. it settles on your cheeks, and the tips of your ears with as a pink glow. he could praise you a million times, and you still wouldn’t be used to it.

“hhhmm? am i making you blush?” he teases you as his hand slides down from your cheek to your chin to angle your face up. his big round eyes look over your face, his smile mirroring yours.

“you aaarrrre.” you whine, leaning forward to press your forehead against his.

he continues to stare at you though his eyelashes, “good. i like making you blush.” he pecks your nose, “especially if it’s when i compliment my very talented girl.”

your hands swat at his chest playfully, “oh hush.” you grumble.

neteyam places his large hands onto your hips, his long fingers thrum against your lower back, “i think it’s time we go show off the beautiful art my gorgeous girl made. you'll make everyone in the clan jealous.” his knees angle up to press against your back, you're now sitting in the valley of his body.

neteyam stands to his full height, holding onto your hips as he rises from the ground. you let out a delighted cackle from the sudden movement, throwing your head back as you laugh.

neteyam's eyes dance over your face, unable to hold himself back from chuckling along with you; your laugh is contagious.

"i am so lucky to have you..." his voice trails off, his eyes try to take in every detail of you-- how your braids flow down your back, and the paint that is smeared across your forehead and slightly on your cheekbone...

your hands rest on the sides of his neck, your face brightening from his words. "neteyam... i love you." you whisper into the space between your lips.

the biggest grin spreads across his face from hearing her say those words; the first time you've ever said it to each other. her response only make his heart beat faster, and his breathing more intense. "i love you." he whispers back as he leans forward to give you another soft kiss.

it feels as if he's falling into an abyss surrounded by you, unable to crawl out. it's not like he would want to anyway, his senses are clouded by your lips, and your scent, and how your legs are wrapped tightly around his hips right now. he smiles into the passionate kiss, now knowing that his only purpose in life is to be alongside you.

this is what i used as inspo for the painting on him :p i found it on pinterest

#neteyam #avatar twow #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x na’vi reader #neteyam sully x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully x na’vi!reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x oc #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut

2K notes · View notes

smusherina · 4 days

Text

yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 12

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you to the pavement like a linebacker.

You collided and flew onto the grass. Better than concrete but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

290 notes · View notes

dark-and-kawaii · 5 months

Note

your pregnancy ficlets are super sweet! How about Halsin finding out tav is pregnant 🥰

Halsin would/does make the best dad. When he was worried about the kids not getting a bedtime story from him I wanted to cry. I go feral for big ol’ guys with a soft heart, and he’s like the poster man for that.

༺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 ༻

♡ Halsin | Pregnancy - Fluff

In the midst of a small flower field, bathed in the golden rays of the sun, you sat in the forest. Halsin, in his bear form, approaches you silently, attempting to surprise you. But as always, you are keenly aware of his presence. Chuckling softly to yourself you continue plucking a pink flower, and with a playful tone you remark, "You'd have better luck sneaking up on me if you were a cat, you know."

Halsin nudges your back gently with his large furry head, emitting a low, affectionate grunt as he settles down beside you. Resting against his solid form, you're enveloped in a unique comfort only he can provide, afterall, it’s not everyday someone gets with a bear. Twirling the flower wreath you've been weaving, you muse, "I'm considering changing these to yellow blossoms, what do you think?" You glance at him, your look soft and affectionate as he cocks his head, ears perked, you know his bearish confusion was a silent compliment to your creation.

Your laughter is light as your fingers trace the fur between his eyes. "Yellow's quite the neutral choice," Halsin watches you, his gaze intent, absorbing every word you speak, “Hmm, or maybe I should do white instead, but that’s just- no. That’s a terrible idea.” He continues to listen, studying your expression intently, as if trying to decipher the message behind your words.

“If it's a boy," you continue, your eyes lingering on the wreath, "I don't think he'd appreciate all these shades of pink." Your gaze meets Halsin's, a playful glimmer in your eyes. "And if it's a girl, well, pink seems to be the only answer. But how am I supposed to know? I'm no seer." You raise an eyebrow, your eyes searching his face. Suddenly, his wide brown eyes illuminate, and in a burst of radiant energy, Halsin stands before you, transformed back into his glorious elven body. "Is it true? You spoke of the truth just now?" he asks, his voice filled with awe and excitement.

Joining him in standing, a smile spreads across your face, and you nod, uttering the words he longed to hear, "It's true, my love." Unable to contain his joy, Halsin bursts into laughter, engulfing you in his arms as he spins you around, expressing his elation in that moment of pure bliss.

Halsin's laughter fills the forest as he spins you around, his joy palpable in the warm embrace. "By the Great Oak Father!" he exclaims, his eyes shining with happiness. You both come to a stop, and Halsin cups your face in his hands, his expression overflowing with love. "Our love, our bond, will be forever sealed in this precious life."

The forest and flowers around you seemed to come alive with vibrant colors, the gentle breeze carrying the sweet scent of the blooms. It feels as if though nature is celebrating alongside you.

As the initial rush of excitement settles, Halsin lowers himself to one knee, holding your hand close to him. "My heart, I promise to be there for you and our child every step of the way. I will protect and cherish both of you with all that I am."

Tears of joy well up in your eyes as you meet his gaze. "And I promise to stand by your side, Halsin, as I always have.”

Halsin's grin widens as he rises from his knee, his eyes never leaving yours. "I have no doubt that we will raise a child who embodies both the strength of the wild and the wisdom of the druids. They will be surrounded by love, nature, and the embrace of the elements."

With hearts filled with excitement and anticipation, you and Halsin spend the rest of the day in the forest, basking in the joy of your upcoming journey as parents. As the sun sets, casting a mesmerizing glow across the landscape, you can't help but feel an incredible sense of gratitude for the life growing within you and the love that binds you both together.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #Halsin #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #bg3 halsin #tw.pregnancy

581 notes · View notes

thecapricunt1616 · 27 days

Text

Lily of the Valley - (c.b. oneshot)

O/S INSPO: Lily of the Valley Soothing, calming, draws peace and tranquility, and repels negativity. Assists in empowering happiness and mental powers. Married couples should plant Lily of the Valley in their first garden to promote longevity of the marriage. POSTED DATE:03/30/2024 W/C: 4,114

A/N: FINALLY!!!! I am so sorry this took forever! This O/S is based on this adorable request from the LOML @daysofyellowroses - please check out her blog! I hope this satisfies your Carmy Proposing idea! I'm sorry it took so long i've been sick, but were back baby!!! Requests are opennnn y'all! This is also heavily inspired by my amazing OOMF @gingergofastboatsmojito - In another timeline Carmy still somehow came across Madame Stardusts jewelry (she transcends time and space that woman!) , & Stella exists too! If you want to meet more of that character in the universe Ginger created (I highly recommend you do)you can read that AMAZING FIC HERE ! Please be sure to leave kudos & comments & give Ginger all the flowers she deserves!!!

WARNINGS FOR BTC: Smut, Swearing, NO USE OF Y/N - As little physical description as possible, fluffy Carmen, OC Carmy - (He's more emotionally grown obvi hahah)

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

You pushed the heavy, bulging tote bags full of groceries up your arm as you walked back to Your&Carmy’s shared Condo Building. The wildflower seeds you’d thrown on the little patches of grass on your walks to the train, along the sidewalk on your block had finally started to bloom. Adorable tiny little flowers in vibrant shades of blue, pink, purple, yellow, and white peeking out over the sidewalk's edge.

Spring had most definitely sprung in Chicago by this point. Your commute whilst walking to work down Michigan Ave, passing the stunning array of tulips, had told you that fiercely every time you walked to and from the train this week on the way to work. It was finally Friday, and you couldn’t be happier.

Carmen had been so busy this week- busier than normal. You’d usually just hang out with your best friends to fill that pathetic, lonely void while grading papers and doing your own assignments- but they were busy this week too! You were convinced the universe had bound you to loneliness this week, so naturally, all you wanted to do was get home, crawl into bed, and sleep- until Carmy came in around 2 to 3 am, and get that savored 15 minutes of cuddles after his shower, before exhaustion came over you again and you fell back asleep.

You used your special key fob to get in the door of your condo’s shared building, which to your standards was very luxurious- it included amenities you’d never even thought of. You and Carmy had moved in together 3 months ago, it took a lot of convincing on your end. You and Carmy had lived on opposite ends of town, so every time you’d see eachother, (which was very often) - it would be an hour's drive that he insisted- or, him losing the battle- and allowing you to take the train back all those stops.

You weren’t particularly religious, it was more just a personal preference - that you would be at least engaged before you were to move in together. Especially before having a mortgage together. You’d told Carmy this, and he’d given you the same answer each time over the last two years he’d been begging - “Baby we know we’re in love, you know we’re eachothers forever person - we tell eachother every day! We’ve been together 3 years, Let me take care of you”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be taken care of- it’s just…you liked working. You loved your job, you’d went to school and earned a masters degree for Christ sake, and were currently working on your PHD. You couldn’t ever see yourself giving that up, and moving in with a boyfriend and him insisting on paying all the bills made you fear you’d fall pregnant, and then your professional life would be over.

But, Carmen had insisted to you he wasn’t interested in children unless you were. You were sure at one point you never wanted them, but you were becoming more afraid, because seeing as amazing an uncle Carmen was, how naturally kind and understanding he was of children- it brought out something in you. It was so sudden that you could imagine turning your shared library / art studio into a nursery during slow time at work.

You walked down the hall, in no rush to be home. The only presence waiting being your cat, Truffle, Carmy had insisted on the name due to his deep black fur.

You approached the door, confused as to why you were hearing…music? From your apartment? You shook the hope of Carmy being home this early away, not wanting to be dissapointed. The neighbors downstairs must be blasting that same kind of jazz instrumental Carmy listens to so loud that you heard it through the floor.

You unlock the door, and sure enough the music playing softly through the condo gets a tad louder but the first thing to catch your eye was the white and pink rose petals making a trail to the kitchen. You heard Carmy humming lightly, the sound of chopping on the cutting board.

“Bear?” You quickly nudge the door shut with your hip, not even bothering to take your shoes off and rushing down the hall into the kitchen. Sitting atop the breakfast bar, was a vase packed with beautiful pink and white roses.

He looks up from the cutting board “My favorite girl” he stops what he was doing immediately coming and taking the bags from your shoulders, setting them down before greeting you with a sweet kiss. He cupped your cheeks gently, pulling you in to him so you were flush together with his other hand.

“You used our card f’that right?” He asked softly when he pulled away. You roll your eyes a bit, he had insisted you get a shared credit card, and that you purchase everything with it- and at the end of the month, he will show you the statement, and only pay a quarter of the total, just another one of the ways he assured every financial burden of yours was eased significantly.

“Yes, what is all this baby?” You asked, motioning to the roses. “Did I forget somethin? Our anniversary isn’t for another 2 months” you asked a bit nervously. Carmen wasn’t a stickler for dates, but it would break your heart if you were to forget something important.

“No- no. I just…just love you- I wanted to show you, and especially after this week I know I’ve been crazy busy, and I’ve been comin’ in late and leavin’ early, and…I just wanted to show my best girl how much she means t’me” he kissed your forehead sweetly and you felt a blush creeping to your cheeks.

“That’s so sweet Bear. Thank you I love you, this is…no one’s ever done this- oh my god- are those balloons?” You giggled, seeing heart shaped foil balloons tied to your chair at the table and he smiled proudly.

“Mmhmm, the lady at the flower place said that - we can talk about it later. You wanna cook w’me? You can just watch if you want?” He asked, gently brushing his fingers through your hair.

“I never turn down a lesson from the best, let me go get changed real quick” you headed toward the bedroom and he stopped you by your hand pulling you back into his chest, kissing your neck with wet open mouth kisses earning a giggle that you couldn’t contain.

“Mmm- don’t go in there right now, it’s for later. I already got your pajamas right here” he said going over to the couch and grabbing your favorite pair of sweatpants and his old ‘the beef’ tshirt that to you was the most comfortable thing in the world, especially when he wore it to bed for a few nights before giving it back.

“For later huh?” You muse, taking off your heeled booties and unbuttoning your slacks before peeling them off and trading them for your soft fuzzy grey sweatpants.

“Mmhmm” he hummed in response and took your pants for you and your blouse and bra as well, bringing them to the laundry room as you put the shirt on and got your hair situated into a bun.

“What are we cooking today, chef?” You asked, heading over to the kitchen to see there were little bowls of vegetables that have been precut and you gasp happily. “Stop- are we really?” You giggled.

“I told you that it’s easy baby but you hate eggplant so ratatouille isn’t gonna be something you’re a big fan of” he chuckled. You had watched the movie with him, and told him that the ratatouille dish looked insanely delicious and that you wanted him to make it for you, but he told you your aversion to eggplant would probably turn you off the dish.

“But there isn’t eggplant” you said looking over the dishes filled with various vegetables.

“That’s right, this is princess ratatouille. I’ve been figurin’ out different vegetables w’Syd that would work for it, we finally got it right. We have zucchini and a few different squashes, and we have onion and garlic, tomato, bell pepper, everything you like. I think you’ll love it baby.” He said rubbing your back gently.

“Of course I’m gonna love it bear, I love everything we make together you have the magic touch. So what’s my job?” You asked eagerly.

“You my special sous chef, are gonna help put the veggies in and I’m gonna do the sauce” He kissed your temple gently.

“Ok! Let me get my apron” You said, happily turning to the drawer you kept your aprons in.

“Wait-” he said, holding your arm. You look back at him and he looked…nervous.”Is…something wrong?” You questioned, brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“No- no I um….i got you a new one” he said sheepishly, walking over to the island and opening up the cupboard beneath you never used.

“Oh- ok..Leveling up are we?” You joked, happily leaning against the counter.

“Jesus-” he chuckled, “Close y’r fuckin eyes- carnival psychic” he teases and you laughed, obliging and closing your eyes.

“Carnival psychic?” you asked and he came over gently putting bundle of fabric in your awaiting hands.

“I swear t’god- you went snoopin’? Open your eyes” he said. You opened your eyes, looking into your hands and seeing an apron. It was white, just like his, and folded perfectly. In thick black letters, intricately painted, ‘ Will You Marry Me? ‘ Adorned with a little red heart over the center pocket that had a square shaped bump.

You felt all of the blood leave your face, your knees feeling wobbly, your mouth gaping in to an O shape, as you stare down at the apron. “Where did you get this?” you whispered, completely awestruck.

“I-I…um…made it?” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I- shit. Fuck- is this not how you pictured it? I’m so fuckin sorry babe- I-I thought…I dunno- like.. You wanted it private? Cause I know you said you’d never-” he’s interrupted by your lips crashing on his in a fervent wanting kiss, a mix of spit and teeth and lips and tongues, he moans softly into your mouth, squeezing your waist.

You were pressed together so firmly that the small box dug into your ribs, eventually pulling away from him with shaking hands and reaching into the pocket, pulling out the small black velvet box. You ever so carefully opened it, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the absolutely breathtaking ring.

“I-it’s not uh..not a diamond- cause I know you said-” you interrupt him

“Princesses and Queens don’t wear diamonds, they wear crystals” you finished, staring at the beautifully cut opal, at least 8 carats, banded by a intricate edwardian band… nothing short of a ring for a Goddess.

“But..But- this one…it does- it has both…because uh” he swallows thickly. “It…in my mind- when I s-saw it, it represented your soul, and your physical body.. And I liked that. Cause- y’re my diamond, but you’re also my queen, my everything, baby. Like how - how you said that…you wished your aura was opal? It is. It is, angel. And every time you look at that, I want you to remember that you’re beautiful from your diamond exterior, to your opal soul” he brushed his finger over the ring, before meeting your gaze once again.

He gently wiped the tears that were running down your cheeks freely, hot and wet and open. It was rare that Carmy genuinely used his words rather then his actions to express his love for you, so you were nothing short of savoring this. “Holy fucking shit” you laughed, shaking your head and looking down at the ring box. “Put it on my hand” you held your left hand out.

He chuckled a bit, “so… yes? You will?” he asked carefully, pulling the ring out of the box.

“Are you kidding, YES! Put this ring on my finger and fuck me dumb- this is all i’ve ever wanted, Bear, I fucking love you- and youre asking if I want you to be my husband?! I’ve wanted nothing more for two years- at least!” you shake your left hand for emphasis, a wide large grin on your face.

He carefully slid the ring over your manicured finger, and it just made you cry more how it fit perfectly. “How do you know my size?!” you asked, since most of the vintage rings he'd bought you were adjustable so it didn't matter the size of the rings he’d gotten for you before.

He chuckled a bit, “so- y’re ring…y’know the one…y’thought you lost it at Chipotle like…ahhh- 8 months ago now? In the bathroom? Y’took it off at the table, you wore it on your ring finger so I had to take my chance. You kept sayin how it was like- the only ring you’d found that fit without takin’ it to the jewler. So uh” he dug in his jeans pocket, placing your beloved vintage ring with your starsign on it in your palm.

“I got that ring, based on the size. I got it uhhh…sorry dont be offended- it’s not new… I got it at an estate sale of this lady- it was crazy- the way I came across it babe… like fate. It was when Syd and I went to New York for that interview, she literally dragged me to this sale cause she said the lady who died was said to have a bunch of vintage fur and stuff she was looking f’somethin- anyway. We met the lady’s daughter- Stella? I think it was? Doesn’t matter… but she um..said her Ma was some crazy astrology nut, also said she only wore crystals. So I took a look… that was the first box I opened. And y’ring on my pinky, it fit perfect, so I tried it on- it fit like a glove. I’m glad we don't have to size it. Asked her if it was real, she said - her Ma told ‘er some…. Like life coach? Er- astrologer life coach author? Gave it to ‘er on a trip to Jamaica in the 60’s. Told ‘er ‘this ring will someday be worn on a hand proudly as a devotion of true love’- Miss- No! Madame ! Madame Stardust. Nutty name right?” he chuckled a bit.

You smiled proudly at the ring, a devotion of true love indeed. “I think” you turned to the counter, stacking the bowls of vegetables together and putting them in the fridge as you friskily countered “you are not going in to work at all next week- wifes orders” you walked over to him, hips swaying. “And after you fuck me absolutely stupid” you grabbed his collar, pulling him in so your faces were meer inches apart “Oh- and we talk about how this mademe stardust? Confirms that our souls are indeed woven together like a fucking wicker basket” you kiss him roughly, weaving your fingers through his dirty blonde curls and tugging firmly.

He moaned into your mouth, his hands trailing down and squeezing your ass firmly. You hummed in satisfaction, leaning against him and he stumbled back, back, back, pushing the bedroom door open with a squeak. You looked up, Breaking your kiss with wide eyes.

All throughout the bedroom, were printed photos of you and Carmy throughout the years, suspended with clear wire so it was as if the photos were floating midair. You clasp your hands over your mouth, admiring all the hard work and pure thought that had went into the gesture. You looked over all the photos, three years of memories hanging before you like a gallery of love surrounding you, all of your fondest happiest memories at every flicker of your eyes.

“Carmen” you whispered, walking forward and admiring each and every photograph…

He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Y’know how you said no work next week…” he said softly, kissing up your neck with wet, sexy, open mouthed kisses. “We leave Sunday… F’Cyprus” He said hotly in your ear, his breath tickling your neck causing a moan to escape your lips as he gently lifts your shirt, palming your breast gently.

“Is- is that-” you breathe out

“We’re getting a tour of Aphrodites Baths” he said softly, rolling your taught nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ah- y-you remembered?” you gasped, he let out a soft deep chuckle, Kissing the corner of your mouth and gently laying you down upon the soft sheets of your shared bed.

“I’d have proposed over a year ago- when I got the fuckin’ ring if i coulda gotten us the tour sooner” he muttered into your skin, tugging off your- (his) shirt, leaving supple, gentle kisses over your stomach and up your ribs.

“Mm- are we- can we swim?” I asked hopefully.

He gently wipes your tears away, “No” he said a bit sadly, “We can dip our hands… some asshole ruined swimming for people years ago…before we met…but- we were also gonna Parga Greece, baby. We’re spending 2 days in Cyprus, then flying to Parga on a charter- we can swim, fuck, do whatever in those waters baby. Amidst the Goddess of the Underworld f’five whole days” he smirked and you gasped, as if he’d gotten you the moon on a string.

“The Acheron River?” you whisper and he nodded, gently rubbing his thumb over your lips.

“That is the sexiest thing i’ve ever heard in my life- you’re gonna make me cum in the 2nd most famous river of Hell?” you giggled and he snorts a laugh, pushing you on the bed gently.

“Fuck yeah, you little fuckin’ freak” he teased, tugging off your panties and sweatpants in one swift pull, leaving you soaked and bare before him.

You gasped at the rough action, quickly being soothed by soft, sweet kisses over your hipbones.

“I fuckin smell y’kitten fuck” he growled, kissing the inner of your thigh in the way that made you creen.

“Shit- good- right? If y’compared me to a seafood market i’d break your nose” you teased, hooking the crooks of your knees over his shoulders, shivering when he leaned in closer, his hot breath directly over your clit- his lapis blue eyes boring into yours.

“That question doesn’t deserve an answer” he grumbled hotly, spreading your folds with his fingers and admiring the wet, slick, mess in front of him. “S’fuckin pretty princess- fuckin’ prettiest pussy in the world” he nearly moaned, burrying his mouth where you needed him most, eyes fixed on yours.

You couldn’t even make a sound- a hot breathy gasp escaping your slack-jawed stance as your head flopped back on the mattress with a soft bounce. “Mmmmm shit” Carmy hummed, satisfied with your taste as if he was devouring his favorite dessert.

“F-Ffuuuckkk” you whimpered out pathetically, voice cracking and bleeding out between the fracture lines of your hot intense pleasure.

“Mmhmm-mmmhmmm” Carmy mumbled confidently against your now firm clit, tongue flicking over it at a mind-numbing pace, bringing you right to the edge and hanging you there by a single finger.

“Ahhhh-Ahhhh-Fuck!! Carmy! Oh- ohhhh!!!” You whined, spine pointing in an arch off the mattress, your hips and thighs quivering and shaking wildly as your orgasm crashed over you like hot lightning before you could even warn him, or know yourself it was so close.

“Goooood girl, thats it- mm- my good fuckin’ girl- Y’gonna be my fuckin’ wife baby? Mmm? Gonna be mine? F’rever?” He grumbled, placing a gentle kiss to your clit before placing gentle yet firm pressure over it with the pad of his tongue that made your hips buck with a mind of their own.

He chuckled slightly into your heat, the vibration causing you to whine pathetically. “Y-yes-yes-fuck i’mfuckinyoursBear-y’gonnamakemey’wife? Yeah? Gonna make me Mrs. fuckin Carmen Berzatto?” you slurred, pulling him into a messy wanting kiss, soughing at the flavor of your core coating his spit.

“Fuckin- spit in my fucking mouth- claim me” you groaned. He smiled against your lips, pulling away slightly, a thick hot string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“So fuckin dirty” he grumbled with a smirk “Open that filthy fucking mouth” he ordered, getting quiet for a moment as he gathered saliva in the front of his mouth.

You obeyed him immediately - your jaw going slack, tongue stuck out ever so slightly and eyes fluttered shut. Then- you felt it, hot, sweet, salty saliva coating your tongue, you groan at the flavor as it continues pooling over your tastebuds. “Do not fucking swallow yet- greedy girl” he tapped your chin firmly, before pulling your jaw open wider with Tthe pad of his thumb.

“Stick out that pretty little tongue” he grumbled, you obeyed with a smile, opening wide as you could, sticking your tongue out far, showing off the creamy white saliva he’d dressed your tongue in, so much it was seeping down onto your chin, threatening to coat the front and back of your throat.

“Good girl- that's my good little kitten” he purred, “How d’you want me princess?” he gently collected the excess saliva from your chin on his thumb, sucking it off his digit hotly as he awaits your response while you swallow gratefully, the taste setting your soul ablaze.

“I want you to fucking claim me, Carmy, holy fuck- use me, worship me, fuck me like a goddamn animal- whatever you fucking want- please” you begged after you’d savored the taste while you swallowed, his sky blue eyes going dark as navy slacks with lust at the admission.

“Yeah? Why not all three?” he pushed you down to the mattress by your throat, not hard enough to bruise- but hard enough for the breath to leave your lungs and your core to throb so hard you were clenching your thighs, trying to give any solace of pressure to your swollen aching clit.

“P-please” you stuttered, writhing against the mattress and he chuckled darkly.

“Are we a little needy? Mmm princess?” he pushes your knees apart with his thigh, aiding the throbbing pressure with his strong fingers, rubbing firm, slow circles into the twitching bud that made your hips snap into the mattress and head fall back to the bed, eyes rolling back with a sharp gasp of pleasure.

“Pl-please-” you gasp out, spine arching sharply as he replaced his fingers with his mouth on your clit, 2 fingers slipping inside of you with no resistance due to the fact your core was so soaked it was beginning to pool at the dip of your bum and soak the sheets. The squelching as he pumped into your g-spot mixed with your high-pitched moans and frisky growls was absolute sin.

He opens his jaw wider, tonguing your entrance wildly and nuzzling his strong nose against your clit in broad strokes, randomly flicking back and forth quickly making you squeal in pleasure as you grind against his mouth, fully out of control of your movements as if you were a puppet on a string.

“H-Hooooo-i’m cumming- oh- don’t you dare fucking stop Carmen” you growled, grabbing his curls and pullinghim further into your core. “I’m cumming- i’mcumming-holy-holyfuck-imfuuuckiing-AAAH!” your thighs and hips shake and quiver, stars of ethereal white filling your vision.

“Mmhmmm” he grumbled, coming up and sucking your nipple with his slick lips, his chin and nose soaked with your arousal, so much so his chin dripped onto your ribs.

“H-Oh-yes Bear” you whined out, head tilting to meet his gaze. “I need you- I-I need you inside- like- fuck- when you- you have my knees around your hips and y-you fuckin’- just drill me Carmy- I need that- need you deep” You reverberated wantingly, wrapping your thighs around his waist taughtly, making it easier for him to take you exactly how you wanted.

“Jesus Christ- I can’t fuckin’ stand y’baby. Y’re like a fuckin’ drug- it’s like I fuckin’ function unless I’ve had a hit” he nibbed your collarbone, quickly removing his jeans and boxers, aligning himself with your entrance.

You gave him a mischievous smile, inching your hips forward. “C’mon- I don’t give a fuck ‘bout cooking right now- fuck me absolutely dumb- then take me to Sam’s f’r chocolate chip pancakes- sure that waitress will be over the moon bout my ring” you mused, capturing our lips together, as he scoops up your shoulders and holds you chest to chest, your third of many orgasms that night building throughout every muscle.

It was going to be a long night….

#carmen berzatto #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #the bear fic #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fandom #borders & banners by saradika

230 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Note

Please write us perv eddie. Even if it's dark idc. Just him stealing the readers panties or "accidentally" tripping and groping her boob lol. She's into it the whole time. They're walking to the local ice cream shop and she stops directly in front of him and bends over to grab a flower on the ground and he runs *right* into her ass and just groans. Omg.

I won't do a whole fic but maybe just a little... (it's not DARK dark but eddie's pervy ofc and the reader is innocent... or so she seems)

(other warnings for dubious consent, somnophilia [not sex just watching her sleep for gratification], foot fetish, panty theft and dacryphilia)

You didn't even know what you were doing, that was what drove him crazy. When you chewed on your pencil in class, when you stretched your arms and arched your back which pushed your tits right out on display, when you wore sandals or flip-flops to school... you didn't even know that you were doing to him.

That time you sucked on a cherry popsicle, looking right at him as you hollowed your cheeks to drain the juice right out of it with your red-stained lips; he came in seconds after he got home, imagining those lips wrapped around him and mumbling praises as if you were really there on your knees.

Or when you were reading on his couch, and you took your sneakers off and put your feet up on his lap, wiggling your toes inside the white cotton socks... he couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel if you rubbed his boner with your foot, or the way you would moan and squirm if he pulled one of your socks off right now and kissed your pretty toes...

Worst of all was when you cried; he felt like a real sicko the first time you were upset about something and cried onto his shoulder, sniffling and sobbing pathetically. He was hard as a fucking rock. He wanted to push your head down into his lap and fill your mouth while you cried on his cock; he wanted to make you bounce on his dick and call you his little crybaby.

Most of the time, Eddie didn't feel bad at all for being like this, though every once in a while a little guilt would seep in. The guilt, though, was a bit erotic in its own way. Knowing he was creeping on you when you were just an innocent little girl, barely eighteen, who thought he was just your first friend in boring-new-town Hawkins... knowing it was wrong and dirty just made it better.

Like when he'd been visiting your house and asked to use your bathroom just so he could pilfer through the hamper and find a used pair of your panties. He almost busted in his jeans when he smelled them, and tried to imagine what dirty thought made your panties so wet with your delicious scent.

He took those panties home and fucked them for hours until they were soaked in his come. He liked to imagine you, somehow, putting them back on and wearing his come right up against your cute little pussy all day. He'd be the luckiest guy in the fucking world.

But the worst thing he'd ever done was when you came over and ended up falling asleep on his bed. He could've done a lot worse with that, but he did his best to contain himself. He was just going to watch you, but then he realized that your skirt had ridden up and, from just the right angle, he could see up under it to your little pink panties. Instantly all the blood that was supposed to be in his brain rushed to his cock and he had to take it out, he had to stare at your tiny mound hidden under the fabric and your sweet, peaceful face as he got himself off.

He tried to be quiet so he wouldn't wake you, but there was still the soft clinking of his belt as he opened it and the slow slide of his zipper.

A low sigh fell out of his mouth when he got his hand around his aching cock. Your cute little hand would feel so much nicer; it's a shame that you fell asleep with your sneakers on or he'd be looking at your feet right about now...

But the upskirt view was plenty to work with. If only he was brave enough to flip that skirt up and look at your pretty ass in pink lace. That ass would look so good covered in his handprints and bruises.

If only he could see the shape of your pussy, even just the dip in between where the fabric hugged onto your lips; but your legs were too close together for--

You shifted slightly and he started to put his cock back in his pants, but your eyes were still shut. He got down on his knees at the foot of the bed and had to bite his lip and shut his eyes to keep from moaning.

You had spread your legs and given him the perfect view of your panty-covered cunt. It looked so fucking cute-- he leaned in a little and saw the little bump where your clit must be. He wanted more already, he wanted to see your folds all slick and sensitive, he wanted to see your tiny little hole... he wanted to see your other hole, too.

He stroked his cock faster, throat bobbing as he tried to stay quiet. Dirty fucking slut, you know what you're doing, don't you? he imagined telling you as he pulled you over his lap and spanked you.

No, I swear! you would cry, so cute with your big eyes full of tears. I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you!

You'll finish what you started?

You would nod and bite your lip, getting on your knees for him.

You hummed softly in your sleep, holding his pillow tighter, and he squeezed his cock with a low groan. This was the best thing since he told you that pretending to shake a salt shaker on your tongue would make you taste salt. Dumb little girl, you just kept trying and trying when it didn't work, and he nearly creamed in his jeans.

Naughty baby... he thought to himself. I'll teach you everything, I'll teach you how to be a good slut, just for me.

He stroked himself faster and faster, eyes darting back and forth between your spread legs and your innocent face. His wallet chain and loose hanging belt were chiming rhythmically as he jerked faster and faster-- he was already so close and he wanted to fucking coat you, come right on your clothes and face and hair and--

Fuck. Where was he actually going to come? He couldn't do it on you, he didn't have a rag-- oh god, what's the plan?

You handed him the stolen panties from under his mattress. "Try this," you suggested.

He choked on his own throat as he looked back at you, sitting up and smiling at him with eyes wide open.

"Well? Isn't this what you usually come in?" you tilted your head.

He started to try to stammer out an excuse, tried to start pulling his jeans back up, but you just giggled.

"I was wondering when you were gonna man up and make a move," you explained, batting your eyelashes at him. "I've been waiting forever!"

He blinked at you rapidly, totally unable to respond. "Uh-- I-- what?"

"Come here and tell me about how cute I look sleeping," you cooed as you sat up and tugged on his shirt to pull him closer. "And I'll tell you about how cute you look trying to hide a boner."

#eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie #this was fun

7K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Three for One 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: How are these getting longer lol

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

If you thought the darkness was torturous, the light proves to be worse. You look at your surroundings. It’s eerie. A room curated for one. For you.

The white fluffy stool in front of a matching vanity. A picture of a woman in white sitting in a meadow, flowers all around and a stream flowing through the lush field. A vanity painted with flowers, the night tables matching; the bedspread under you similar woven with pansies. The trim at the top of the wall is pink petals on white and a soft rug under the foot of the bed.

It’s all very cute but deranged. You’d love to have all this and more but you’d rather your apartment. If the price is those three men then you’d rather a gutter. Most importantly, you want your dog.

You can’t even make your demands. The walls can’t give you what you want. You doubt your captors will either but you can try. You can wear them down. You can be nice sure, you prefer that, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be your own brand of evil.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. The noise needles in your ears and you hear the mechanism click. You raise your head to watch the door open and the one with the beard enters. Alan, Arnold? Ugh, you don’t care.

He doesn’t break the threshold. He crosses his arms and stares at you. A ripple in his forehead underlines his thoughts.

“I’m going to bring you out but you have to be good,” he says.

You close your eyes and drop your head. You fill your chest and let out a blasting wail. He grunts and stomps to the bed. He grabs your shoulders, shaking you until you nearly swallow your tongue. You bite the tip as he sits you up and you’re forced to face him.

“No, no more of that. Or you don’t get your first present.”

“I don’t want any of your presents,” you sneer.

“This one, I think you do,” he intones, “I’m asking you to give me a chance. Let me show you that this isn’t just for us. This is about you, honey.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you hiss, “why can’t you just let me go?”

He shakes his head, “it’s too late for that.”

“I won’t behave. I swear, I’m going to scream–” you inhale and he quickly covers your mouth, his other hand coming around the back of your skull.

He hushes you as his blue eyes darken, “honey, I’m being nice right now, so you need to go along with this. If you don’t…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “I don’t know what they’ll do.”

You furrow your brow. Getting out of this room is one step closer to escape. You can be good. For now.

You let the tension leave your body and soften your expression. He senses it and slowly slides his hand away from your mouth. You flick your lashes, putting on your best pout.

“Okay, Alan, I’ll be good,” you avow.

His brow tweaks and his cheek ticks. His nostrils flare as his chest rise and falls, “it’s Andy.”

“Right, I’m sorry, I’m really freaked out,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “that other guy… he hurt me.”

“Which one?” He asks.

“Er… stache guy.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he huffs, “can I untie you?”

“Yeah.”

“No, honey, I’m asking,” he looks you straight in the face, “you’re not going to try anything, right?”

“I can be good,” you squirm, “my wrists hurt.”

“Alright.”

He lays you back and rolls you over. He pulls the tape away from your arms, then your ankles. You think of the trick from the van. You know his weak spot but it’s too soon for that. Timing, it all comes down to the right opportunity.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand and helps you up.

You get to your feet and let him lead you out. His large hand clings to yours as he pulls you after him like a child. As you go into the hall, you examine every inch of the place. He takes you into the front room, a low din that in any other circumstance would be cozy.

It looks like any other living room. A sectional and an armchair, an artificial fireplace set into the wall, a mantel trimmed in tinsel, a rich carpet spread over the dark hardwood, and shelves of books along with a television mounted to the wall. The tree in the corner stands bare over a red velvet skirt.

“We can decorate the tree tonight and see if Santa leaves anything for tomorrow.”

You hold back a scoff, “um, I know Santa isn’t real.”

He chuckles, “it’s a joke.”

“Is this the surprise?” You deflate. Sounds like work to you. Of course, your apartment is too small for a proper tree but you’re less than excited for a pastime you always longed for.

“No, not the only one,” he lets you go as you tug on your hand. “Honey, we did this all for you.”

You turn on him, “I didn’t ask you too.”

“Hey, hey, why are you acting like this? You’re such a sweet girl.”

You swallow tightly and hear beeping again. Then a clamour that includes a scramble, some scraping and the thump of a door against something else. You try to see past Andy as you feel cold air rush in from outside. You want to race past him but he’d be on you in a moment.

You hear a familiar growl before another voice wafts in from the entryway.

“Ah, he bit me. Again!” One man says.

“You think I’m having fun at the ass end?” The other retorts.

“Woah, oh, shit–”

There’s a duller thump and you hear claws and paws on the floor. Your heart leaps and you look around Alan– Andy as you hear the heavy breaths bounding towards you.

“Ernie!” You squeal as the Saint Bernard lumbers in, furtively searching before he spots you. “Ernie, my boy. Oh, baby boy.”

He nearly knocks over Andy as he barrels into your arms. You hug him around the neck and inhale the scent of his fur. His collar tinkles and let his warmth ease your fear. You were so worried about him, more than even yourself.

“You said it was a puppy,” the bare-faced man snarls as he shakes his hand.

“I didn’t know…” Andy says.

“He is a puppy,” you insist.

“Who let the pussycat out?” The mustachioed creep asks.

Your eyes shoot darts in his direction and his hand shields his pants, almost instinctively. Ernie drags his large rough tongue up your cheek. He was scared too but now you have each other.

“Surprise,” Andy says, “so now, honey, you’re going to be good, right?”

You look at him and chew your lip. His eyes fall to Ernie and you put your arm in front of the dog. He doesn’t need to put his threat into words.

“Shit, I’m bleeding. That thing got shots?” Scarf asks.

“What about the girl? She got me good,” Mustache snickers.

“No, but maybe I should get checked now,” you snip.

“Woa-ho!” Mr. Caterpillar exclaims, “she’s got a mouth.”

“Honey,” Andy warns, “we’re being good, right?”

You huff and nod.

“So, apologise.”

“What?” You burst out, “he–” You stop and look between all three men. You have Ernie but you’re more worried about him getting hurt than knowing he’d hurt them in an instant. Even then, he has his head low, a steady rumble brewing in him.

“That thing needs to calm down,” the naked faced one whines, still cradling his hand.

“He’s confused,” you defend your son, “okay? And I’m sorry, er, dude, I’m sure you don’t have any communicable diseases.”

“The fuck? Disease– Alright,” the man steps forward, “that’s it. First she bites me, then she kicks me in the dick and now–”

“Lloyd,” Andy puts his hand up, “no. We’re all just getting used to each other. You’re not exactly easy to be around yourself.”

“Fuck that, I’m funny,” the fuzzy lipped man, Lloyd, argues.

“Everyone just quit,” Andy demands, “alright? Did you get the food?”

“Food?” The bare-faced man shrugs out of his jacket, “what food?”

“For the dog? I told you–” Andy begins.

“Ah, shit, knew we forgot something,” Lloyd chuckles, “he’ll be fine. He can eat chicken, can’t he?”

“He has a sensitive tummy,” you say.

“Jesus,” the third man grumbles as he hangs his scarf over his coat. “I’m not going back. It’s late.”

“Can he have rice? Carrots?” Andy suggests.

“I guess, I don’t know if he’ll eat 'em,” you look at Ernie as his deep brown eyes meet yours. You pet his head to keep him calm. He doesn’t like these men any more than you do.

“Fine,” Andy huffs, “go get the decorations,” he orders the others.

“Why don’t you get the decorations?” Lloyd sneers.

“She needs to change,” Andy explains.

“Like we can’t help her,” the other man challenges.

“I don’t often agree with him, but he’s right. We’ll get her changed.”

You grimace as your eyes ping pong at the back and forth of their conversation. This isn’t good. You don’t enjoy being talked about like you’re not there.

“How about I get myself changed?” You offer.

The men turn to you. None of them seem impressed. A sudden peel of thunder fills the room and you look at Ernie. His bark echoes in your ears.

“Shut that thing up,” Lloyd snaps.

“He’s quiet,” you say, “he was just saying the same about you.”

“Really?” He goes to take another step forward and the other man stops him, “Ransom, let me go.”

“I’ll take her, you two go get the decorations,” he says.

Andy frames his hips and sighs, “fine. We all know the plan. Let’s stick to it.”

You want to raise your hand and clarify that you do not, in fact, know the plan but you suspect you’re not a part of the collective. You keep your hand on Ernie and gulp. He nuzzles your hip.

You bend and pet behind his ear, “it’s okay.” It’s not. You move to face him, “sit,” you raise your voice, “stay. I’ll be right back.”

As you stand, the dog obeys. He’s a gentle giant, at least with you. You pat his head and turn away. The men watch you.

“That thing listens?” The one they called Ransom asks.

“He can.”

“Come on,” he beckons you with two fingers, a smirk ghosting on his lips.

“This is bullshit,” Lloyd mutters as Andy approaches him.

“We can keep talking all night,” Andy pats his shoulder, “or get things moving.”

“Whatever,” the man smooths his mustache.

You reluctantly move towards the third man, the one with no personality grown out on his lip or jaw. A baby face if you ever saw one. The way he leers makes you uncomfortable. He smells like Armani.

“Not smiling now, are you?” He says under his breath as he ushers you down the hall.

He points you into that same bedroom. You stop just inside and he shoulders past you with a grumble. You watch him go to the wardrobe and open it. You look between him and the door. You could make it.

You wait a few seconds as he pushes hangers over the bar. You take a step. He doesn’t notice. Another and he’s bitching about colours. You didn’t think men were that picky. You get right in the frame of the door and back out. He looks around the open wardrobe.

“Bye,” you wave and pull the door shut.

You know he’s probably swearing at you but you can’t hear him. You hold onto the handle and hit the little lock icon in the corner of the keypad. The deadbolt rolls into place.

This is it. You edge out to the living room. You don’t see anybody. Ernie sits where you left him, sniffing the air. He sees you and perks up. You wave him over and he lifts his rump, taking careful steps across the room.

You grab his collar and take him with you to the front door. You twist the handle, it doesn’t budge. You flip the lock over it, still nothing. You don’t know what to do. What the hell?

You search around you. The windows are barred, you can’t get out that way. There’s a small box right beside the door. You flip it open to reveal another keypad. Fuck.

“And where are we going, pussy cat?” The question nips your ears as a plastic ornament pings off the wall beside you. You spin and face the mustachioed menace.

“You know, I just need some fresh air.”

Ernie growls and puts himself between you and the man, keeping the distance with his body. He prowls around, snout low as he paces back and forth. Lloyd steps closer and the dog mirrors him.

“Call that thing off,” he demands.

“Why would I do that?” You challenge.

“Well I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I made him stop,” he opens and closes his fist.

“You wouldn’t hurt a puppy–”

“I’ll do what needs to be done,” he tilts his head.

“Ernie,” you call the dog, “quiet. Sit.”

The dog lets out a wispy boof but listens. He flops his butt down and glares at the man. You put your hands up and step forward.

“You’re mean. How can you threaten an innocent dog?”

“He drooled on my Jimmy Choo’s,” he says, “come on,” he grabs you by the back of the neck, “let’s go get the dumbass out.”

Ernie barks as you whimper. You flutter your hand at him as Lloyd’s fingertips pinch into your tendons, “Ern, it’s okay, I’m okay. Stay.”

He must hear the panic. He remains, restlessly shifting his front paws. You march beside the man back to the hallway. You reach to touch his arm and he only squeezes harder.

“Shouldn’t blame you for trying,” he says, “but I will.”

363 notes · View notes

heich0e · 2 years

Text

There's a knock on your door at 3:30PM on the dot.

It's a Sunday, and you're not expecting company, so you're more than a little confused at who could be coming calling.

Even more so when you open the door to sea of colour right before your eyes.

"Uh," --you step back slightly, eyes scanning over scene before you. They're flowers, you quickly realize, in abundance, in virtually every colour you could ever imagine and more--"hello?"

"I don't,"--you hear Shouto grunt a little, shifting two of the bouquets in his arms so his face peeks out from between a bunch of white hydrangeas and an overflowing bundle of red roses,--"I don't know your favourite flower."

He looks concerned, his brow pinching and his lips pursed, like the thought troubles him.

You gape.

"Shouto, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on patrol?"

He shifts his arms again, and a bouquet of gerberas becomes visible in the crook of his elbow--sunny yellow against the dark blue of his jacket, thrown on overtop of his uniform though it doesn't do much to disguise it.

"I finished early. And I wanted to bring you flowers."

"You brought me a garden, Sho," you say, enthralled and alarmed all at once. You reach out and take three bouquets of blooms from his overflowing arms in an attempt to help, but somehow it doesn't seem to lighten his load at all--like the flowers have multiplied as quickly as you took some away.

You nod behind you, urging him to follow you into your apartment, which he does diligently.

"Well, I didn't know which ones were your favourites."

"So you said," you mutter, setting the three bundles of flowers you carried in atop your kitchen counter. Carefully, Shouto follows suit, placing his armload down slowly as to not damage the fragile stems and blossoms.

Your counter is piled high by the time the last bouquet has been deposited, the delicate scent of flowers slowly filling your apartment.

"This is... a lot," you breathe, as your eyes rake over the hoard. You peek at Shouto from the corner of your eye, and find him staring right at you, seemingly unconcerned with the veritable Eden he's emptied into your tiny kitchen.

"I upset you yesterday," he says slowly, like he's spent time planning out the words meticulously, "and I wanted to apologize. The internet said flowers are a good way to do so, but I don't know which ones are your favourite."

He'd missed dinner plans with your parents the night before. You'd spent the entire meal worried about where he might have been, what may have been keeping him, whether or not he was safe--only to find out he'd lost track of time filling in paperwork at his agency, and forgotten about the meal all together.

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Shouto, that doesn't mean you had to clear out the entire flower shop."

"But I wanted to make sure I got you your favourite. So that you knew I was sorry."

You sigh.

"You could have just said it, silly."

Shoto blinks, like he hadn't thought of that.

"Oh."

Shouto's great at what he does, what he knows: being a pro hero, saving people, doing what's right. But he's new to this, you realize. New to being a boyfriend. New to having to be mindful of another person's feelings. New to apologizing.

"I'm sorry."

All at once you feel like you might laugh and cry. He says it so sweetly. So sincerely. So earnestly.

He hasn't taken his eyes off you since the moment you let him though the door.

"I accept your apology, Sho," you say, stepping towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist. "I wasn't even that upset, there will be other dinners."

"I was worried," he murmurs into the top of your hair, his arms holding you tight against him. "I know it was important to you. I know that you worry."

You pull yourself away, though he only allows you far enough that you can lift your head to look at him. His cheeks are pink as you peek up towards his face.

"Well, it's not like I could stay mad when you show up at my door with my favourite flowers, could I?" you ask, a little smile playing at your lips.

He smiles too, bright and eager, pride swimming behind the mismatched hues of his eyes. "Which ones are they?"

"Peonies," you say, pressing yourself to him once more and burrowing your face against him. "The pink ones at the top of the pile."

Shouto hugs you tight. "I like those ones too."

"Yeah?" you ask, laughing into the blue material stretched across his chest.

"Yeah," he agrees, "I think I have more of them in the car, too."

Your head pops up in shock.

"There's more?"

#shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki #pro hero shouto #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x you #bnha writing #bnha drabble #writing #todoroki x reader

5K notes · View notes

riaki · 5 months

Text

santa claus and his treats | satoru gojo x f!reader pt.1 of christmas event! wc: 3.4k oops i went overboard | cw: petnames, literally j pure fluff ur both STUPID in love, he’s the cutest! happy birthday pretty boy 🧸

"'toru?" you called, voice filling the dimly lit room as you peeked your head in through the door. the curtains were drawn, the iridescent green tinsel dotted with soft yellow lights framing the doorway of your bedroom scratching your neck as you spotted the white-haired boy sitting on your shared bed, picking at something on his lower lip.

you took a moment to drink in the sight— his soft white hair that fell over dazzling sky-blue eyes, the color of the lake dotted with fragile crystalline snowflakes that melted into fresh spring streams that fed nature with new growth and fresh flower buds, a tangible warmth when his gaze fell on you and an easy smile stretched across his pink lips. a little too easy, you think. easy enough for you to miss the way he swipes a coffee brown crumb from his cheek; the smile has too much sugar and cream for you to buy it.

your eyes slowly drift from his charming grin to the rest of the room. there's a forest green tuft of leaves hanging from the ceiling on a thin golden string; you recognize the crimson red berries and waxed leaves with spots of pearl dotting as a bunch of mistletoe, hanging right over the mattress. clearly, he thought ahead.

you snuff the flush from your cheeks as he perks up at the sight of you, straightening his back. "hey, baby! you must be my present from santa this year," he laughs, holding his arms out, an invitation for you to crawl into his arms and curl up on his lap like two warm cats by the fireplace. you almost gave in— until you remembered why you were looking for him.

"you're getting coal this time, satoru." you said, huffing as you walked over to the mattress and put your hands on your hips, attempting to come off as intimidating in front of your boyfriend as you leaned over and stared down at him. he just giggled that sweet, boyish laughter of his, scooting closer and capturing you between two strong arms to tug you onto the bed with him. the sheets were soft, and they smelled like him as he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you like a life-sized plushie, all warmth and soft comfort that he craved so much.

"aww, really? but it's my birthday today," he sighed loudly, shaking his head as he firmly planted his hands on either side of your head to prevent you from worming away and planting a loud smooch on the top of your hair, before laughing as you pulled away from his grasp and gave him a glare. “besides, you’re anything but a bad gift.” he smiles.

“don’t sweet talk me, ‘toru. you’ve been naughty this year.” he wiggles his eyebrows at that, and you shoot him a sharp glare which just earns you a light scoff, but there’s a smile mirrored on both of your lips.

(maybe they’ve met so many times in the past that they know how to copy the other flawlessly.)

"but you're already here, my love. lookin' all pretty like the angel on top of our tree." he hums, crossing his legs and holding his ankles as he rocks back and forth; the teddy bear he won you from the arcade on your first date is face planted into the pillows by his side, donning a festive red santa hat. the white fluffy pom pom looks like satoru's hair, and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

"how kind of you, satoru." and you mean it— he looks like his own christmas angel; snowy hair and pretty blue eyes clad in a loose black tee with cheap printed red and green christmas lights over his chest. he looks unfairly attractive with those gray sweatpants on, too. you wouldn't mind wrapping him up in yellow ribbon and presenting him to your parents this year as your holiday present from santa, and then having your own fun with him later. you suppose you must've been perfectly good to land him; so pretty and fun, bubbling laughter that speaks of his care in volumes. and he’s their soon-to-be son-in-law, after all. and he’s a golden catch.

but it’s time for this white betta to be put in his place; he’s gone snooping where he shouldn’t have— or rather, scavenging would be the more appropriate choice. and he’s about to be skinned for entering the lion(fish)'s den. your matching red-green plaid pajama pants won't save him this time.

"sorry, baby, but you can't talk yourself out of this one." you said firmly, scooting closer to him as you sat back on your knees and gave him a look as pointed and narrow as the icicles melting on the frosted awnings. to anyone else, you might look like a wet, angry cat— but to satoru, it was enough to strike fear straight into the center of his heart. his fight-or-flight response kicked in (it only ever did with you)— and it was as if you could see the change in his demeanor. his eyes voluntarily softened, lids drooping as a lazy smile drifted over his lips like fluffy white clouds over a pale sun on a winter's morning.

"aww, don't be like that. my princess looks so much prettier when she's happy," he coos, all milk and honey as he reaches out and catches your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your pulse beating beneath your soft skin as he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. so he chooses to fight, and you almost fold— almost.

you twist your arm in his grasp, eliciting a whiny yelp of pain; getting him to let go of you as you quickly flick his forehead. even so, he lets you-- he never turns infinity on around you, even at the price of his own sanctity.

you sighed when he gave you a dramatic pout, sticking out his bottom lip as he hung his head low in defeat like a golden retriever being scolded by his owner, soft hair falling over his pretty blues. his hands come up to cradle his head, rubbing the spot where you'd knicked him. "don't play around, satoru. where are the cookies i baked last night?" you asked, reflecting his frown with a pointed glare. if looks could cut, he'd be a red christmas on the cloudlike sheets. you were tired of beating around the bush, especially when satoru had a knack for making it utterly exhausting. nevertheless, it went on.

"maybe santa came early," he quipped, giggling at his own joke. "you never know, huh? he's an unpredictable old geezer. likes his milk and cookies, or so i heard."

"didn't know santa claus had the six eyes." you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest and looking him square in the eyes. "and he shaved his beard off, apparently." he feigns hurt, holding a hand over his heart in mock anguish.

"i'm no thief! it hurts me to know you think of me so low, sweetheart." he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. outside, the snowy wind howls in agreement. "besides, it's my birthday. you're suffocating the spirit, honey." he drawls.

you just roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms and shifting to sit closer to him. you will your irritated expression to soften, and it's reflected in the way satoru immediately relaxes, shoulders sagging as the anxious look in his eyes vanishes like the wilting ghost of fall on a christmas eve, leaving behind the scent of bluebells and frost on the wind. he thinks you've forgiven him.

that's just what you need. for him to let his guard down so you can spring the trap on him. santa may be able to get away with his yearly trespassing, but satoru's entered the property of more than your heart this time, and it's time for his holiday retribution.

"give me your hand, satoru." you said softly, voice barely a breath above a whisper. he obliges almost immediately, scooting closer on the bed so that his knees graze against yours, and you hear him suck in a little breath at the contact as your hand finds his.

you take his palm in your own; his hands are considerably bigger than yours, but you still manage to run a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, gently massaging the soft skin over weary bones. a sweet little noise leaves his breathless lips; it's almost like a purr, and when you glance up at him he's almost as red as the glittering velvet bulbs dangling from the primmed branches of your christmas tree. he looks away, a subtle pout weighing down on his lips as he coughs loudly, as if the amber sap of a pine tree has caught in his throat, scratchy like tree bark.

"what are you doing?" he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, like someone took a fireplace stoker and poked his throat. almost a protest.

but you can feel him melting into you, and soon enough, he’s sandwiched you between his warmth and the fluffy blankets, the scent of apples and cinnamon weaved between the strands of his soft white hair as they tickle your flushed skin. his lips are soft and pliant and warm against your own; he's all over you, hands finding your wrists to trace tender, wobbly circles over your thrumming pulse with his thumb. he's robbing your lungs of air, needy in the way he cages you between his lanky limbs, lock and key with his free hand threading through your hair. he can never get enough of you, and he throws his inhibitions to the frostbitten wind if they mean learning to resist you.

it's spread around you like ripples on the surface of a misty lake, and when he draws away to stare down at you, eyes blown wide with a certain shine in his eye that reminds you of glowing embers, jumping from the lively blossom of fire on the grated dark metal of a hearth, there's a cheeky lopsided grin on his glossy lips. his fingers are slender, pale and callused, a gentle flushed at the tips.

"there was a mistletoe," he says breathlessly, as if that'll excuse him. as if he needs an excuse to kiss you. you just laugh, reaching up to trace his jaw with a finger, and he shudders despite the heater inside your room. the bunch of green leaves and red berries hanging above you sways in agreement.

but you can't focus on the dreamy look on his face; that lazy smile that dances over his lips and illuminates his features like twinkling christmas lights catching on each edge of a carefully cut snowflake, the sky's jewels. every time he looks at you as if you've crafted each intricacy of his world; patched the colors together and taught the light to reflect, you feel as though there are bubbles in your throat, and you have to cough them away when they're accompanied by a familiar rush of heat to your face.

it's all overpowered. strongly, by the rich taste of cinnamon. rich, sweet, distinctly festive, mixed with brown sugar and cookie batter; flour on the matching aprons satoru bought for the two of you, except the 'he' on 'he cooks' has been messily crossed out and replaced with a scribble that says 'she', and vice versa. it's on his tongue, his lips, the little dips on the corner of his mouth that makes him look like a kitten every time he grins. it tastes like wearing matching christmas sweaters, sampling sweet treats fresh out of the oven and laughing cheerily in your little cozy kitchen of warmth when he burns his tongue, a sour look on his face that wrinkles his nosebridge.

but, most importantly, it tastes like condemnation.

you sit up, briefly (and painfully) knocking foreheads with him when he's too slow to mirror your actions, but the complaint that's ready to stain the air like chimney soot dies on his tongue when he sees the look on your face. you look the same as you did the first time you found out he'd forgotten to pick up megumi and tsumiki from school. in other words, pissed.

"hey, pretty girl. you should smile; you look less like an ogre when you do—" he hastily starts, laughing nervously as he runs his hands through his messy hair. you've noticed that whenever you neglect to toy with the silky soft strands when you're tangled with him, whether it be kissing, cuddling, or... something else, he'll do it afterward as if to emulate the feeling of your fingers in his hair, even if it 'screws it up'. apparently, his skyscraper ego is too fragile to ask for headscratches.

"just a minute, satoru." you cut him off through gritted teeth, lips that should be stretched in a wide smile pressed together in frustration. your eyes narrow as you straighten up, sitting back on your ankles. "you ate them, didn't you?" your fingers dig into his skin, pinching his cheek. if his skin wasn't already stained crimson with boyish excitement, it would be an angry red now. you give killer pinches; he knows firsthand.

which is why he should've thought ahead and listened to the angel on his shoulder when you were knocked out earlier, curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, snoozing away. what was he to do? the cookies you'd made were calling his name. and it was for his birthday, and they were made for him. so why couldn't he indulge?

this was why.

and you know you've pinned him with your accusation like a throwing dart on a cork board; the way his gaze bounces around the room and his smile turns a hint sheepish and a handful guilty speaks volumes enough before he can even protest. but he can feel your wrath like an entire mine's worth of coal in his stockings, so he quickly throws his hands up, shimmying away from your angry pinch. the sheets bunch beneath him.

"listen, sweets, i just thought that— well, i'm sorry, baby, they just looked so good. and i only ate a few! i swear." satoru says solemnly, getting on his knees and throwing himself before you. he knows you're unamused— sitting there, crosslegged, looking down at him as if he's some chewed up gum you found on the bottom of your shoe. he might as well be. blueberry flavored, maybe? or mint, he's fine with that too—

"so you did." you just sigh, flicking his hunched shoulders, before you go soft again, and he sees pink. you reach forward, fingers creeping beneath his chin to tilt his face up. his skin is soft and warm beneath your skin, thrumming with a life and heat the poor overworked radiator in your room could never measure up to. and when he does look up, his starstruck gaze meets your own; you look ethereal in the warm light, and he wonders why he hasn't put a ring on your finger or started a family with you yet. maybe that can be the last gift to top off the cake of your overflowing knitted stocking, hanging from the kitchen counter; a mahogany box with golden hinges who's shine pales in comparison to the diamond ring in the center of the velvet.

he tucks the idea into his mental notes and grins, a cheeky flash of teeth. "so you forgive me, right?"

wrong. he should know better than to push his luck. especially when it comes to you.

the hand beneath his chin creeps up his face to squeeze his cheeks together, forcing his lips to pucker like a fish out of water as he tries to escape to no avail. you glare down at him, all needles. not at all in the holiday spirit, if you ask him. his face is squishy as a pillow beneath your fingers, and a smile resurfaces on your lips after a long struggle to keep it submerged.

he opens his mouth, no doubt to wail like a newborn, and you quickly withdraw, knowing better than to continue your assault. "geez! okay, fine. sorry. i ate them, you grinch." he grumbles, rubbing his squished cheek as he pouts and looks away, shrinking in on himself. his shirt is bundled beneath his arms, slipping off one of his shoulders to expose a pleasant flush on his neck. "seriously! you're such a killjoy. there's no fun in waiting," he smiles mischievously, wiggling his toes and nudging you with his foot. the fabric of his fuzzy reindeer socks bumps against your thigh, and you make another face at the red pom poms on the crudely-knit rudolph face.

"apologize." you emphasize each syllable, letting them fall off your tongue. they jut into his side like blows to his ribs; he falls back onto the bed for extra dramatics, letting it squeak beneath his weight.

"oh, the horror! to think that i'd be reduced to such a state—"

"satoru."

"—that i, head of the gojo clan, the honored one—”

"satoru gojo."

"should be forced to bow to such pious customs at the foot of scrooge—"

"gojo!"

you reach over to threateningly pinch him again, and he rolls away, tossing a fuzzy pillow into the air and kicking it at you like he's playing some cursed form of tennis. you scowl, catching the cushion and tossing it back at him. it lands square on his face, and he whines, crying about how you've ruined his beautiful, youthfully full, gorgeous face; how is he ever going to pretend to be santa and let pretty girls sit on his lap now? —and that one earns him another pinch to his arm.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry, my love. you're not the grinch, or scrooge, and i shouldn'tve eaten the cookies." he sighs, excruciatingly slow as he inches towards you again, wary of but wanting your warmth all the same. it's too cold to be alone this morning, anyway.

"without me." you corrected, unable to wipe the light grin from your face, and you watch as his face lights up, like a kid seeing his dream christmas present in the window display of a bright shop, hidden behind frosted glass and cold air.

he sits up again, scooting close and opening his arms once more. this time, you oblige, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping your arms around his neck. now he’s the one with his back flush against the mattress, soft as a cloud of cotton candy. he laughs, and it rumbles through his chest when his hands find the back of your head and he tucks your head beneath his chin, cradling your neck.

"without—" punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head, "you." satoru finishes, and you can hear the grin in his voice, cheery as a christmas carole. his arms snake around your waist, squeezing lightly as one hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt to gently rub your back. his fingers against your skin feels like the touch of a butterfly, wings like stained glass.

"how about this, pretty? we can make more together." he suggests, resting his chin on top of your head. you're smushed into his chest, the printed material of his christmas light t-shirt scratching your face, and the only thing you can manage to breathe is the cheap cologne you bought him (you don't understand why he uses it when he could afford the best of his own), but suddenly you can't bring yourself to mind. so you nod, and he chuckles.

"d'ya still wanna do cinnamon?" he asks softly, slipping his free hand into your hair to play with the strands, holding you close and cozy in his embrace. the burning heat of friction between your numb hands or a roaring fireplace don't compare to the warmth he brings you, soft and sweet and painfully human. and you can't really make yourself feel upset at the pretty boy with snow-white hair holding you anymore.

"nah. let's do peanut butter chocolate chip." you hum, muffled, and he laughs, hearty and full, the kind that makes his entire body tremble a little. and you can feel it, so you tilt your head up to peer up at him. there's a stray pine needle in his hair; must've been from your hazardously decorated christmas tree. he looks down at you and smiles, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaning in to kiss your forehead. it’s like a crimson wax stamp sealing his love letter to you.

he cuddles you close, tufts of his soft hair tickling your face like a tacky christmas sweater. "sounds unhealthy. but whatever you want, baby. santa's gonna give you all you ask this year." and this time, he doesn't use the mistletoe as an excuse to brush his lips against yours when you move to pick the pine needle from his hair. he smells like vanilla, swirled like espresso with a hint of cinnamon.

he may have enjoyed his cookies and milk without you, but there's nowhere else he’d rather be— no one else he'd rather share the rest of his time with, be it baking, decorating, or lazy naps in each other’s arms. after all, half the jolliness of the holiday season comes from being with you.

fish analogies went crazy… happy bday gojo !!! my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

284 notes · View notes