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#how hard did he have to look to find this sweater
zegrasdrysdale · 2 days
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Hey! Could you write a John Marino x Reader fluff where he has a girlfriend that nobody knows about and he brings her to family skate and they being super cute and everyone has no idea who she is and he basically hard launches the relationship to everyone? Thank you!!
[ since when ] j. marino
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pairing : John Marino x fem!reader
summary : John brings his girlfriend of several months to family skate before the Stadium Series game, surprising everyone
warning(s) : none ! just some tooth rotting fluff
author’s note : i am all over the place w requests so pls bear w me while i try to get them out for y'all. this is on the shorter end and prob not my best work but i hope you all like it <33
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"Are you sure?" she questions as John runs around like a crazy man to grab this things so they can leave. "I don't want to ruin family skate for you."
John stops and looks at her from the front door of the apartment. An equipment bag slung over his shoulder.
“I would love to have you there,” he replies. He drops the bag on the ground by the door and walks over to her where she stands in the hallway that leads to their room. “I love you and want you there.”
She’s still very hesitant despite his reassurance. “What if your teammates don’t like me?” she asks. “I’ve never met them. Or their wives and girlfriends.”
“They’ll love you,” he tells her. “I promise. I might throw them off by bringing you and showing you off but they’ll love you.”
Showing you off.
The one thing that John hasn’t been afraid of doing is showing her off. She’s been introduced to his non-hockey friends and his parents. All John did was brag about about beautiful and smart she was.
Today was the day she’s been excited for and dreading at the same time. She’s finally going to get introduced to his teammates. That group of guys are like John’s found family. She’s extremely nervous. There's a reason why he's waited, and she's completely understood why he's been waiting to introduce her to his teammates. They are the most important people in his life, and he wanted to make sure they were both ready for that.
“You’re sure they won’t mind if you bring me?” she asks as John pulls the beanie he had made for her. It has his number on it. “I don’t want to pull you away from your teammates.”
John smiles as soon as the beanie is secured. “I think they will be more in shock that I’m bringing my girlfriend that they didn’t know about to family skate,” he admits. “Some of them are definitely going to swarm and ask a lot of questions. They’ll be more of a pain in our asses.”
A small smile forms on her lips. “Okay,” she sighs. “I’m ready, I guess.”
“You look cute all bundled up,” John comments as he leans down and presses a kiss to her nose. “Just so you’re aware.”
Her cheeks get hot but she isn’t sure if that’s because of his compliment or because of how hot she is standing in the apartment in a puffer jacket and sweater underneath.
She opens the door so he can walk out of the apartment. John waddles down the hallway with his gear bag so they can get to the rink in time for the Devils to practice before family skate starts.
The closer they get to MetLife stadium, the more nervous she gets.
She's terrified to be introduced to a huge group of people that have no idea who she is. John hasn't told anyone about her. She's really a nobody dating an NHL player. All of the wives and girlfriends have things they do, and she feels like she does nothing even though she's attending graduate classes at NYU to get a master's in literature.
Sometimes she has no business having this kind of life.
John parks the car in the back with the rest of the players' and staffs' cars. He finds a spot that's somewhat close to the door.
An excited John looks over at her, and she's pretty sure she has a look of pure fear in her eyes with the way his face falls. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asks.
"I don't belong here," she blurts out. A weight has been lifted off her shoulders as she finally admits what's really been bothering her. "I don't ... I'm a nobody compared to everyone I'm about to meet. I'm a grad student. I don't have some cool job like everyone else does."
Her boyfriend turns in his seat and grabs her hand. "Listen to me," he tells her. "You are a smart, badass, sometimes smartass, woman that is studying for her master's." She tries to hide the smile that forms on her face at his comment. "You do belong here. You're going to be a New York Times bestseller one day and you're going to have the coolest job that anyone has ever seen. Right now though, you are the most beautiful person to walk into that building. You look good. You should feel good."
She pouts at John trying to hype her up. She swears she could cry. "I love you," she says to him after a minute. "Please don't ever leave my side though until I actually talk to someone."
John smiles at her. "Deal."
They get out of the car. She grabs her ID badge that lets her get into the building and anywhere she really wants to go tonight. John grabs her hand and they walk into MetLife together.
At first, no one notices her. John says hi to some of the staff that works with the Devils. His teammates are probably getting ready for practice.
She follows John as he turns down a hallway. There is music coming from one of the rooms and John peeks his head in. "Oh, good," he says. "No one has started getting ready yet. Families are still in the locker room." John turns his attention to his girlfriend. "You ready?"
With a heavy sigh, she nods. "Ready."
John smiles and pushes the door completely open with his shoulder. Every single head turns in their direction as soon as she's standing at his side again. Conversation dies down as the Devils realize what's happening.
"Dude," Brendan Smith says to break the silence. "Since when?"
"A few months," John admits. "Um, I'd like everyone to meet my girlfriend. Baby, this is everyone."
She gives them a little wave before she takes a small step closer to John before a couple of the wives and girlfriends whisk her away to get to know her.
When she looks back at John, several of his teammates have gathered around him to probably ask him so many questions.
She takes a liking to Erik's wife almost immediately, but also likes talking to Lazar and Toffoli's wives as well. They seem to be pros at this whole thing so she sticks with them until families can join the players on the ice. She watches practice with them and enjoys being able to see what goes on at a Devils practice that has John exhausted when he gets home.
John immediately finds her as soon as she hits the ice in her new skates that he got for her for Christmas. That was the day he asked her to come to family skate with him. She said yes, and right now, she's happy that she did.
Despite being very nervous, she feels like she's made some new friends.
He takes her hands and guides her on the ice. "Feeling any better?" he asks as they glide around, avoiding running into other people.
"A lot better," she admits. "How many questions were you asked when I was kidnapped by the wives and girlfriends?"
John laughs and laces their fingers together. "I never want to get asked again how long we've been dating," he tells her. "They all asked me probably twenty times how long we've been together and why it took me so long to introduce you to them. Jack said we 'hard launched' our relationship, whatever that means."
She smiles and wraps her arms around his torso. He looks so much taller on skates, even when she's on skates too. She still has to look up at him. "It basically means that we dropped our relationship on everyone without any hints," she explains. "You really didn't tell them that you had a girlfriend?"
"No, I did," he says. "Yesterday. Some of them didn't get that text." She laughs as John's back hits the glass. He lifts his hands and cups her face. His fingers are cold against the warm skin on her cheeks. "They all already love you. I might have hyped you up when you were taken away from me."
Her cheeks heat up even more, probably warming John's fingers at the same time. "You didn't," she sighs.
John smiles and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. "I did," he replies. "It's because I love you and you deserved to be hyped up. You were so worried, but they're all excited about the book that you're writing and can't wait to read it."
"John Marino!" she gasps as she playfully hits his gear covered chest. "No one was supposed to know about that yet. I'm still drafting it."
"I'm proud of you, baby," John softly tells her as he leans down. "You should be proud of your work too."
She smiles and wraps her arms back around his torso. "I am."
He tilts her head up and captures her lips in the softest kiss she's ever experience. Both of them smile into the kiss that follows.
They don't get too into it though because somewhere behind them is a shouting Dawson Mercer. "Get it Johnny!" His teammates join in soon after.
John groans and pulls back from the kiss. "They can't ever mind their own business," he sighs.
"They're happy for you," she giggles. "It's cute that you have a whole team that's happy for you."
He smiles and looks down at her. "Thank you for coming, by the way," he says as he pulls her along behind the net.
"That's what she said."
"I cannot stand you."
"You love me."
"I do."
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chvoswxtch · 2 days
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Hi Court,
May I please have an Americano made by Aaron Hotchner based on this movie quote:
"In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find someone who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you." —Juno
Thanks and Congrats!
juno is one of those movies I can rewatch a million times & never get tired of & I love this quote so much
thank you so much! enjoy!
blurb below the cut
order for aaron with a shot of juno
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the best thing you can do is find someone who loves you for exactly what you are
Getting caught by your boss sobbing in a supply closet at seven-thirty in the morning was not on your agenda for today, or any other day for that matter, but when that door swung open, it was clear you were both caught by surprise. Hotch took one look at your red-rimmed eyes, and the semi-permanent frown he always wore melted into something a little softer, with a hint of awkwardness. Attempting to do damage control and not look like a complete basket case, you swiftly wiped at your eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater and cleared your throat.
“Sorry…I uh…allergies. Really bad this morning.”
Hotch arched one of his thick brows as he spoke in a dry tone.
“You do remember that I’m a profiler, right? Part of my job is to know when people are lying to me.”
Letting out a deep sigh, you gave a dismissive wave of your hand and leaned back against one of the shelves, crossing your arms over your chest while diverting your embarrassed gaze down to the floor.
“It’s…really not a big deal.”
“It is if it’s bothering you.”
It never failed to surprise you when Hotch displayed warmth and compassion considering you were used to his stoic and authoritative nature. Glancing down at the watch on his wrist just for a moment, he reached inside the supply closet to switch on the light before stepping inside, shutting the door and leaning back against the shelf opposite you.
“We’ve got ten minutes before briefing. Talk to me.”
“Hotch, it really isn’t-”
“Stop downplaying your feelings. You’re upset for a reason. What is it?”
The last thing you wanted to do was talk about your relationship problems with your boss, but you had to remind yourself that he was more than that. He was also your friend, who could potentially offer a logical and unbiased perspective, but at the very least, he was giving you a chance to vent. 
“Do you ever feel like…like no matter how hard you try in a relationship, you’re still going to get left?”
“Did you forget I’m divorced?”
There was a faint hint of humor in Hotch’s voice, and you noticed the slight quirk at the edge of his lips. Trying to suppress a smile, you were delightfully surprised when he offered you a small one and mirrored your stance of crossing his arms over his chest, nodding in your direction.
“Look, if you feel like you’re doing everything you can, then you can’t blame yourself for another person’s choices. Sometimes you give it your best, and it’s not enough. But that doesn’t make it your fault if it doesn’t work out. Effort goes both ways.”
Letting your head fall back against the shelf, you sighed deeply. Part of you knew Hotch was right, but another part of you still felt like there was something wrong with you, or something you just couldn’t get right. Meeting his gaze, a sad smile appeared on your lips.
“And what if my best is never enough?”
There was a pensive expression on Hotch’s face, and he was quiet for a minute. His head was slightly tilted to the side, a mannerism you’d learned meant he was really listening. Hotch still had his arms folded over his chest, and he gave a light shrug of his broad shoulders.
“If you want my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you. The right person will still think the sun shines out of your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.”
A laugh tumbled from your lips suddenly at his raw sentiment, and Hotch seemed pleased with himself that he’d gotten you to smile. Glancing down at his watch again, he looked up at you with a more sympathetic gaze and offered you a light smile before reaching out with his right hand to give your shoulder a light squeeze.
“We’ve got two minutes. Take a second and gather yourself, and then meet us in the conference room when you’re ready.”
As he opened the door and stepped out, you called out his name.
“Hotch?”
Abruptly he paused, his hand still on the doorknob, turning to look at you inquisitively.
“Yeah?”
A gracious smile covered your lips as you nodded at him.
“Thank you.”
Hotch returned your nod with his own, a fleeting light smile crossing his lips.
“Anytime.”
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mercurygray · 2 days
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#47 “break” for Egan and Cord?
I know we talked the other day about Harding getting shot down - In one version of the universe, it's Cord who bullies her way onto a plane after John gets shot down - and that's the version of the universe where she gets shot down, too, her first full day of the war.
It was funny, how quickly the word home could change.
For the last six months home had meant a Nissen hut shared with six other girls, an airbase in Norfolk, and a small house in Ohio. "Are you heading home?" someone would ask, and it'd be one of those places, the word stretching to fill the space it was given. And now home was a bare-walled room scarcely thirty foot square, lined with bunks stacked three high and holding a small stove, a table, and an odd collection of stools and benches and chairs. But home was more than that - it was the men in it, too. Home was where the people that knew you were - and for good or ill, they all knew her here.
"You fellas off to band practice?" Crank asked, clearing away the lunch dishes and starting to roll up his sleeves to give them a wash.
Frank nodded, standing the collar of his coat up while Brady wrapped his scarf a little tighter. "We're hoping to be ready for a concert at the end of the month. It's really starting to come together."
"Looking forward to hearing it," Bucky replied, his arm heavy and loose around Cord's shoulders.
"Maybe by the time we get there we'll broadcast," Brady said with half a smile, fishing his gloves out of his pocket and glancing down at the oddments on the table that Buck was attempting to turn into a radio.
"If we're lucky," Buck replied, his eyes never leaving the headset he was intent on wiring.
"You coming with, Bucky?" Frank asked. "Davis over in block five had a letter yesterday - might be the sports scores from his brother again."
"No, you go," Bucky said, his voice light. "I'll catch 'em from you later."
The door opened and shut, a gasp of cold air escaping in from the hallway. At the stove, Crank was rattling the lunch dishes around the wash pan and humming something under his breath.
Cord took a breath and felt a cough rattling up out of her chest, her body shaking against Bucky's. He sat up a little straighter, his arm squeezing her closer to him. "Hey there."
"You want some water, Callaway?" Crank asked, his back to the room. "Got a hot cup here with your name on it."
"Do the dishes first," she said, like she had any business ordering Crank to do anything, the cough still lingering in her voice. "I'll have some that's cold."
"Gotta find you another sweater," Bucky said quietly, rubbing his hand over her back to try and warm her up. "Not gonna get any better if you keep this up."
His arm around her shoulders seemed as natural as breathing now, an infinitely casual gesture that she knew he did partially out of habit and partially out of possessiveness and partially to pull her into the small warmth of his own body. She loved the solidness of him, the way he planted himself on the bench and wouldn't be moved. (Wasn't that why she'd hung his jacket up on the post of her bed at home - so it would be near her?) And there under his wing she was his, unquestionably, something that wouldn't be given up on or cheaply left.
She liked that feeling. She liked the smallness that came alongside it less.
Everyone else had places to be and things to do - off to the commissary to pick up the mail, or out to band practice, or over to Clark's quarters to discuss the latest whip-round of news from home. And the only thing Cord had was a lingering cough.
In another time and another version of home John would be angling to get his fingers under her brassiere with his hand like that - but they weren't in that home now, and a fellow didn't like to flaunt it. There was a break now, between that world and this, a jagged edge that would cut them, if they let it. She could feel his fingers pause like they were thinking about it, and then withdraw. "Gonna see what I can find for that cough," he promised, rising from the table and tucking his hands into his pockets like he was going out for the morning paper. His hand brushed her shoulder and squeezed gently, a kiss that was not really a kiss. "Need anything while I'm out, Buck?"
"Ice cold Coke would be nice," Gale said without looking up from his project, and in the doorway, Bucky laughed and nodded and tapped his cap in mock salute.
"Ice cold Cokes it is."
Cord looked down at the collection on the table between her and Gale and sighed, the cough coming up again and lingering deep in her chest.
"Let him fuss, Cord."
They'd all but dispensed with rank and moved on to mostly last names. She'd always been Lieutenant at home - a way to keep everyone on the same level - but nearly everyone just called her Callaway now. (If Benny was feeling really fractious he might stoop to Cordelia, but so far that had only been for comic effect.) She wasn't sure when Buck had moved from Callaway to Cord, but she didn't mind it, coming from him.
"What?"
"When have you ever known John to like sittin' still?" Buck said, as clearly as he could, fiddling with the jumble of parts on the table between them. "He needs something to do, and if he's …mother-henning, it means his mind's got less time to think about...everything else." He held the wire he was shaping up to the light, inspecting his progress. "So let him fuss. You're doing plenty. Now pass me that screw, you're going to need to hold this for me in a minute."
"And she will - in a minute." A shadow fell across the table and a steaming cup appeared in her periphery. "Drink that," Crank said, looming a little, his hair like a halo. "Or my ma will come murder me."
Arguing seemed futile. "You're gonna make someone a very nice husband someday, Crank," Cord said, looking up at him over the steam of the cup and taking in the grubby apron, the mismatched scarf.
"You're damn right I am," Crank replied loftily. "Getting all house-trained right here."
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azira-fucking-phale · 9 months
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Head empty. Only Nandor clutching onto Guillermo's sweater for dear life
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fairy-angel222 · 3 months
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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—how they breed you when you make them jealous
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬: 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎, 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈, 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: smut, degradation, praise, breeding, baby trapping, mean doms, choking, exhibitionism, hair pulling, rough sex, spit, daddy kink, hair pulling, somnophilia
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✮ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
What the fuck did you think you were doing? Gojo seethed to himself. Who the fuck were you with and why were his hands on you. What would seem to be a normal friendly hug had blue eyes glaring at you through the cafe’s window.
Gojo plastered on a fake smile, the bell ringing as he walked through the door. You looked up with a wide smile, “baby.” Gojo’s eye twitched as the man behind you smiled too, “Hey man, Y/n’s told me so much about you.”
You frowned as your boyfriend took the man’s hand in a bruising grip, giving it an unnecessarily hard shake. “And you are?” He questioned, forcing himself to keep up the nice guy act.
“Oh, i’m Haru, an old friend of y/n’s” Gojo scoffed internally, his arm making its way around your waist. “Well, Haru, we’ve got to go now,”
Waving bye to your friend, you bit your lip as you looked up at the white haired man, “are you mad?” Gojo scoffed, “Nope.. not at all.”
A lie.
You found yourself sprawled out on the back seat of Gojo’s car in the parking lot for anyone to see. Your legs were spread up in the air as Gojo took his anger out on your cunt.
Your eyes were wet with tears as your boyfriend hammered into you. “How many times do i have to fucking tell you, hmm baby?” He scowled. “How do I get it in your dumb little brain that you’re mine.”
Gojo’s bright eyes darkened as he sped up his pace, thick cock ramming into your g spot with every thrust. Your boobs bounced as your body rocked with his hips, the entire vehicle being moved from side to side.
“Gonna have to fuck a baby into you to drill it in your head.” He grunted, not slowing the movement of his hips until you were shaking for him. Your eyes blurry with tears as small ‘m sorry’s left your mouth
“Good. You should be. Show me you’re really sorry and take it yeah? Take it nice and deep.” he groaned, hips rolling roughly into yours.
Small babbles and hiccups echoed throughout the small car, your hand gripping tightly onto the side of the seat as your orgasm washed over you. “F-fuck,” you moaned, pussy tightening around him as you creamed.
Gojo smirked, bottoming out inside you as his eyes met yours, slender fingers pushing themselves past your lips and resting at the back of your tongue. “Gonna fill you up kay baby? Gonna let everyone know that you’re my little slut only.” he growled.
You shook your head in protest, your little waits muffled by his fingers. Gojo cursed, his eyes never leaving yours as he bred you deep. “There we go, gonna look so pretty carrying my baby.”
Your eyes widened when you heard a throat clear awkwardly. Scurrying to cover up but being held down by your boyfriend instead. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you looked up to find Haru.
“U-uhm.. you f-forgot your sweater y/n.” His cheeks were beat red and his dick was strained against his pants. Never in a million years would he expect to see you like this.
Gojo grinned as he looked at the male, slowly pulling out of you to give your friend a sight of his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. Haru’s breath hitched and Gojo’s head tilted. “Like what you see? Too bad you’ll never have it cause it’s mine.”
✮ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
Silently watches as you innocently entertain two guys who were clearly flirting with you. How stupid could you possibly be. Pushing his glasses further up his nose, Nanami sighed. Did he always have to remind you that you belonged to him? You should have known that by now.
And you most certainly should have known that no man ever has innocent intentions. Getting up, Nanami walked up to you with a face void of any emotion. Tapping you twice on your back to indicate that it was time to go. You even had the audacity to tell the two men bye in your sickly sweet voice.
The ride home was silent.
You kept trying to strike up conversation but pouted when all you got in return were uninterested hums and nods. “Kentooo,” you whined. “Why won’t you talk to me?” you frowned. Your boyfriend simply glanced at you and scoffed. Watching as you rest your head against the car door and let your eyes close shut.
You woke up with a small whimper, soft moans falling past your lips. You felt so good, your pussy clenching around.. a cock?
Your eyes shot open to find Nanami in between your held up legs. His eyes dark as he hammered into you. His thick, veiny cock abusing your g spot as it fucked into your abdomen.
A loud mewl left your mouth as Nanami’s hand made its way around your neck. You felt so full, his cock stretching you out and forcing you to take him deep. Entire ten inches reaching deep within your belly. “K-kento.. so deep.” you whined.
Nanami grunted, tightening his grip on your neck to bully his entire cock into you. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, let you know who you who you fucking belong to.” He groaned, looking deep into your eyes with a glare.
You whimpered loudly, eyes blurry with tears as he fucked you dumb. “Nngh, ‘m cumming Kento, ‘m cumming so hard,” you sobbed, toes curling as you babbled out his name.
Nanami scowled as the thought of you with another man crossed his mind, his grip becoming a bruising one as he snapped his hips into yours at an unforgiving pace. “Fucking take it baby. This is exactly what you needed. Get it through your dumb head that you have an owner.” he spat, watching as you shook uncontrollably underneath him.
Screaming loudly as your body was rocked with his thrusts. Nanami groaned at the way you began to squirt, threatening to push his cock out at the mere pressure.
Stilling inside you, Nanami let his hot ropes of cum coat your insides. His hand around your neck finally loosening as he kept his cock plugged into your sopping cunt. You were his. Now you would have the stomach to show it.
✮ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
Watches with a smile as you dance. Taking note of all the men that were eyeing you like food. Eyeing you like you weren’t already owned. He was sat on the club’s couch with his legs crossed, arms spread out along the chair’s backrest and head tilted with a smirk. His eyes roamed his waist, his hips, and his ass. Every part of you was his.
And you knew that, you were just so oblivious to all the hungry stares directed at you. Toji stalks tall towards you. Towering over your figure and nodding towards the exit. Understanding that it was time to leave, you made your way outside to wait for your boyfriend in his vehicle.
Five minutes passed and you frowned in worry. Where was he? Your thoughts were cut off by the driver’s car door slamming shut. Toji using a rag to wipe blood off his bruised knuckles.
“Toji-” before you could open your mouth to speak, you received a warning glance from your boyfriend to keep your mouth shut. You swallowed hard, wondering what the hell your boyfriend had gotten into. Especially since he was smiling like a maniac as he drove.
At home, you found yourself on your hands and knees, loud moans and mewls spilling past your plump, drool filled lips.
Toji’s thick cock pounded into you hard. His hips snapping roughly into yours. Rough hands held your hips in a bruising grip, his cock forcing its way deep into your tight hole and ramming into your g spot with each movement.
You let out a loud cry, the flesh of your ass shaking with each contact. “F-fuck— d-daddy, nngh, feels so good,” you whined, a yelp leaving your mouth as you were yanked up by your hair. Your back flat against his chest allowing him to fuck you even deeper.
Toji had one hand tangled in your hair, the other held your throat. Your whimpers and moans echoing in the small room as your pussy squelched lewdly. Toji’s smirk never faltered, kissing up your neck and to your ear.
You clenched hard when he groaned softly, deep voice rasping in your ear “Fuck you’re taking daddy so good, gonna fill you up with another Fushiguro hmm? Gonna look so hot all round and swollen with my son. Your tits leaking with milk for daddy to take care of you. Does my little slut want that?”
You whimpered loudly at his words, clenching down on his cock as heat built up in your stomach. “Mhm, wanna feel you deep. Wan’ carry your baby so bad.” you mewled. Eyes rolling back as Toji rolled his hips up into yours.
Toji brought his teeth down on your skin hard, nearly drawing blood as you moaned. Pulling your head back even further, Toji leaned down to press his lips against yours, sloppily swallowing your moans before pulling away with a string of saliva connecting your lips.
Your mouth hung open in short pants, your boyfriend letting a thick glob of his spit fall onto your tongue. “Fuck, gonna show all these assholes that you’re mine yeah? They probably won’t even live to see it.” You let out a silent scream, feeling Toji’s cock absolutely destroying your gummy walls.
“O-oh fuck, d-daddy, ahh,” you moaned, body trembling as you reached your orgasm. “Gonna cum, fuck, gon’ cum on your cock.” Little incoherent chants of his name falling past your lips.
“Cum f’me baby, make a fucking mess.” He groaned, tightening his hold on your neck as your slick dripped down his cock with one final cry. “There we go,” he grunted, thrusts getting sloppy as he buried himself deep inside you, ropes after ropes of sticky cum painting your guts white.
Your knees felt weak as you came down from your high. Eyes fluttering closed as you steadied your breathing.
“Now, who do you belong to, baby?”
“You.. i belong to you,”
“Good girl. Might even keep my cock in you so that you don’t spill any of daddy’s cum.” He chuckled, knowing full well that he was being serious.
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lovebugism · 4 months
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how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy
a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 
Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 
Speaking of sweet…
His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.
Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.
He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.
“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.
Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”
“Did you sleep good?” 
“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”
“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”
Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”
Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”
“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”
He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”
“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”
“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.
“Get out of the kitchen!”
“What’d I do?”
“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”
“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”
You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.
The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”
Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”
Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”
“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”
“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”
“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.
“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”
Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.
“You’re welcome…”
Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.
“It’s different!”
The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.
“That’s not true!”
“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”
“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.
“Eddie,” you scold quietly.
The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.
“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”
Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 
“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”
“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”
“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”
You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.
The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.
“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.
You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”
“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”
“Eddie.”
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moonstruckme · 20 days
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heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!
i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!
thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3
cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words
Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it. 
Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig. 
“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table. 
James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor. 
“Angel?” 
You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?” 
“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair. 
“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.” 
“Alright…” 
You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while. 
“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.” 
“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth. 
“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?” 
You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization. 
“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.” 
It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.” 
You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain. 
James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall. 
“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?” 
“Yeah, thanks.” 
He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly. 
“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James. 
“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.” 
Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. 
“Really?” he asks. 
“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.” 
Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls. 
“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?” 
“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.” 
“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.
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familyvideostevie · 5 months
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steel drum weight of me
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joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni
summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k
warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie
a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.
__
Jackson looks its best in the winter.
You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.
It's also fucking cold.
But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.
Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.
Things could be worse.
You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.
Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.
You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.
The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.
"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"
"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.
The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.
The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.
He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.
"How was the wall?"
"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"
"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"
He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."
You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.
"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.
"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.
"Hey now, what --"
You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"
He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.
The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.
And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.
It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.
"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.
"I'm fine --"
"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"
"I said I'm --"
"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.
"Alright," he says. "Move, then."
You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.
"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."
Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.
"What's it made of?"
"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."
He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."
You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.
"Cute."
"Gimme those hands, big guy."
The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.
"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"
"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.
"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."
He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."
You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.
And, boy, he touches you back.
So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.
Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.
"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."
"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.
"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."
"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"
You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.
"What? Can't hear over the water."
You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."
"Don't think that's what you said."
"It's what I meant."
And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.
"Alright," he says.
You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.
Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"
"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."
"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"
"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"
"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.
So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.
"You just gonna look at it?"
You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.
Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.
"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.
It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.
Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.
You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.
He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."
"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.
He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."
You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.
"So is that a no?"
You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.
"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.
"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.
"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.
Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --
The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.
You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.
"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."
He laughs.
His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.
"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"
"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"
"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"
His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.
Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.
You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.
"Hell of a salve," he manages.
You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."
His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."
"You never stop, do you?"
Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."
You laugh into his neck. "Good."
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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turtledovenycx · 6 months
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Work Pressure (B.C)
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🎧The Neighbourhood - Sweater Weather
“No, you don’t understand,” he said his cool fingers finding your warm skin and raising goosebumps. “I missed you, I missed being close to you.” 
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧
𝐭𝐚𝐠: 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧! , 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭🔞
𝐖.𝐂 𝟑.𝟐𝐤
ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲), 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐣𝐨𝐛, (𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯) 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭), 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐍𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱. (𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐭𝐡𝐧.)
_
Soft tunes could be heard despite Chan wearing headphones. It was past working hours at the JYPE building, the only people left putting in some extra hours of practice, production, or the cleaning crew for the night. Worried your boyfriend would skip his dinner for the nth time you had shown up with dishes from his favorite place - you reckoned he deserved a treat after working so hard for days. 
After the man was well-fed and rested his eyes with a power nap on your lap he wanted to get back to work. 
“Is it gonna take long baby?” you had asked, settling down on the sofa, his jacket as blanket knowing you might be in for a long night. 
“An hour or so love…. I’m sorry but I have to finish this.” 
“It's okay, I might do some work too later but I’ll just chill here if that’s alright.”
“Don’t wanna go home?” he asked getting up from your lap, leaning to kiss you before he adjusted his jacket on you. 
“I’ll be alone,” you said he kissed your forehead before going back to his system, sitting down he glanced at you once before putting his headphones on partially covering one ear in case you needed something. 
.
It has been two hours almost, you had fallen asleep in the initial 45 minutes waking to see Chan slumped over, his shoulders looking like they hurt, staring at his computer as the lines kept moving, the glare from the screen painted his face in blues. The only source of light was from his desktop. Chan had barely moved from that position except to turn the lights off to let you sleep, and you felt bad. 
He did not register you getting off the couch and stretching, so he was startled when you touched his shoulder. His palms fly to overlap yours, 
“You scared me,” he said taking the headphones off,  neck resting on the headrest as he looked up at you. 
“It's been two hours.” you reminded him running your fingers through his curls before massaging his forehead and temples. Chan hummed the throbbing pain in his head subsiding from your fingers. You massaged his head, his sinuses finally working your way to the knot on his neck his head fell forward a groan falling out of his lips.
“How about we stop? Hmm?” you asked as he pulled you to stand in front of him, your hands still on his shoulders. 
“I need to get this done.” he sadly voiced head leaning forward to rest on your tummy as you ran your fingers through his hair he hugged your lower half sighing. This week was tough there was too much to do. Chan just wanted to sleep without worrying in his bed in the arms of his girlfriend. 
A few frustrated tears left his eyes and your eyebrows furrowed in worry. 
“Baby?” you asked holding his face, he closed his eyes not willing to see you yet, but his actions were contradictory as he pulled you into his lap. A gasp left you but you recovered, palms holding his face as he cried. Salty tears stained your necks and shoulders as Chan let out quiet sobs. 
You just let him cry, he needed it but it broke you to see him hurt. This man carried his job and responsibilities on his broad shoulder but wore his heart on his sleeves. 
“I...I am so sorry. I’m sorry…. Sorry.” he repeated and you were beyond confused, slowly you coaxed his face from your neck to look at you, his eyes opened.
“Why are you apologising?” you asked wiping off his tears and cradling his face, he sniffed and you grabbed a tissue for him. After he caught his breath you kissed his forehead, his red nose his cheeks his eyes. The dark eye bags were prominent and you hoped your kisses would ease his fatigue. 
“Don’t say sorry baby. Talk to me,” you asked holding his face as he wrapped his hands around your waist. 
“I’m such a shitty boyfriend. I can’t even finish one track and I’m scared. I’m letting the team down.” His eyes were downcast as he spoke.
“What no..” you tried but he shook his head. 
“It’s too much, I can’t make it past this one verse. Nothing is perfect, and I was too harsh on Jisung today. He got so mad and left. I’m tired y/n. And I’m troubling you.”
“Wait, troubling me?” 
He nodded opting to hide his face in your neck, “You're alone at home, you are sleeping on my studio couch you deserve better baby. I’m so so-”
“Don't you dare say sorry again Bang Christopher Chan ” you unintentionally raised your voice. At the mention of his full name, he stiffened.
“I know it's been a tough week for you. But don't for a second think that you have been anything but the best boyfriend. Channie, you are tired and you’re frustrated and you made some mistakes. But you are still trying and putting in the work. You have a lot on your mind and you just need a break baby.”
“But I-”
“Ssh…. all of you are tired and overworked. It's probably why Jisung reacted that way, he still loves his Channie hyung. He is the one who texted me telling me you had a bad day that's why I came to cheer you up, I fell asleep because I had an early start today that’s all.”
He hummed hugging you as you spoke in hushed whispers. 
“Chris, baby I need you to know something. Yes, I am alone at home on some days and it does hurt me but I will never hold that against you, I love you and your work. I’m so proud of you baby you still work like a dog even after reaching so many people with your music, you’re consistent, hard-working, and fucking dedicated. I love that about you, don’t ever think that you are a burden to me. I would gladly spend days on this couch if it means I can spend my time with you. I’m worried I might disturb you!"
“No, no you made my day,” he said wiping tears.
“Then you have to believe that seeing you makes my day too. Even if I have to sleep on a couch. I don't mind it I love sleeping on the couch it's so comfy actually. Oof that Spotify dust-covered pillow don’t you just love the smell of dust,” you joked hoping to get a smile out of him. It did, his tired face broke into a smile, a small laugh escaping his lips. 
“So don’t you ever tell nonsense like that, tell that stupid voice in your brains to shush. You are doing so well. I’m really proud of you.”
“I love you.” he breathes into your neck.
“I love you,” you emphasize with a kiss on his cheek. Then without stopping, you placed loud kisses around his face, mwah mwah mwah! 
He giggled before begging you to stop 'okay okay okay... Okay, stop.' You pulled away to look at him, worn out he was still so handsome and you missed this, you missed him so much. Chan did too which he expressed by pulling you in for a long kiss. His lips were dry, you wet with your saliva as they moulded with each other, you held his face leading the kiss palm holding his cheeks. He lazily licked your lips before you parted yours to let his wet muscle into your mouth. The kiss was heating up, softly still. He detached and reattached your mouths. Again and again and again and without thinking a small moan slipped passed his mouth. 
“Sorry,” he gasped when you pulled away. You pulled his face back and bit his bottom lip it didn't hurt he felt a sharp sting. “What did I tell you about apologising Chris?” you questioned hands gripping his hair and pulling his head back
“Mm.” he groaned as your lips found the column of his neck. “Don’t apologies.” you say as you bite his neck.
“I miss you,” Chan said tongue tracing behind your ear before his teeth grazed it, drawing a whimper out of you. “I miss you too,” you say his hand began to wander further, from your shoulders to your waist as they raised the hem of your sweater wanting to feel your skin slipping his big palms in. 
“No, you don’t understand,” he said his cool fingers finding your warm skin and raising goosebumps.
“I missed you, I missed being close to you.” 
“Haa..ah Chriss.’ you whined as he traced along your back simultaneously creating love bites.
“Me too,” you whispered lips finding his. Your sweater moved up as it got lodged on his forearms. This kiss was less comforting, it was more of an ‘I miss you’ passionate kiss, he held your hair to angle your head to his liking, you melting at the touch as his tongue traced patterns in your mouth.  
“Mm I want you princess..” he whispered onto your lips as his hands adjusted your thighs so that you were properly straddling his lap, you could feel his hardening cock through his pants. 
“Here?” you questioned, both of you satisfying each other regardless of the time and place was not something foreign but in his company where someone might walk in, it was unprofessional and would cause a lot of problems for him. 
“Please.” he pleaded, his hands now under your outfit palms inching towards your breast
“Please…” he emphasized as he squeezed your breasts over your bra, being touch starved you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. 
“Someone might hear us..” you say hands in his hair as he begins to grind up into you.
“Recording room,” he said breaking the kiss as the two of you looked at the overly huge sunglass thingy inside the soundproofed room with a glass window. You looked back at Chan who looked like he would almost cry- for different reasons this time. 
“Fuck.. okay.” you had barely finished speaking when Chan rose from the chair holding you. 
“Chri-is” you gasp as he hiked you higher holding your thighs and plush lips sucking where your neck meets your shoulder you moved your head away inviting him to kiss and bite more. 
Somehow, he managed to open the door and plop you down before he turned to close it, propping a chair on the knob. It was dark as none of you bothered to turn the lights on. Chan reached for the switch but you stopped him. 
“No lights please,” you begged kissing his swollen lips before moving down his neck careful not to mark his skin for PR reasons. 
“But, I want to see yo- ah” he moaned as you began to palm his dick. 
His mind blanked completely forgetting about the light switch as his back hit the wall. You dropped to your knees in front of him working on the ties of his sweatpants before pulling them down to release his aching dick. He was fully hard now, the shaft hot and heavy as you held him in your palms, stroking softly. Chan was groaning, sensitive from not being released in days. His fingers found their way into your hair as you placed soft kisses and licks from his tip to his balls. 
“Mmph.. baby. I-” his sentence cut off as you took his tip into your mouth, tongue licking over his slit tasting his precum. You sucked diligently on his tip for a few seconds. Chan moaned as you forced yourself to take more of him into your mouth. Pulling away to catch a breath before pushing yourself to accommodate his length. You gagged tears spring to your eyes as you felt him graze the skin at the back of your mouth. 
“Ah …. Ah… ah” Chan was a mess, fingers holding onto your ponytail as he slowly fucked your face. You began bobbing your head up and down and he tightened his grip on your head all politeness leaving him as he was desperate to finish. Your jaw began to hurt but he deserved a release so you hollowed your cheeks, past the sting as you sucked him dry. He came with a broken moan, his release hitting the back of your throat. You pulled off his dick and swallowed the mess to which he tsked. 
“Baby… you didn’t have to swallow,” he said between gasps. “It's okay I wanted to.” he helped you onto your feet, attacking your mouth he could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned at the flavour and his hands once again found the skin of your back, unclasping your bra. You gripped at his black t-shirt as he made work of your sweater, removing it and throwing it on the floor. 
Your bra unhooked but Chan did not even bother removing it before he placed his lips on your right nipple, he was on his knees now one hand kneading your breast as he sucked on the other one.
“Aah, Chris… Channie..” you kept crying as soft as you could as he bit and marked the skin of your breast, fingers unzipping your shorts and feeling their way to your mound. 
Your knees buckled and Chan pulled you onto his lap once again, he sat on his knees your thighs straddling his once again. He could feel your wetness through your panties as his fingers pushed them to the side to touch you. He palmed your pussy before playing with your clit, you jerking at that, he had to hold you down. You could not keep quiet biting the back of your palm as Chan’s fingers entered your hole. You tried to pull away his hands and mouth everywhere at once but Chan roughly pulled you into him.
“Don’t. Pull. Away” he said fingers moving at an awkward angle. He looked over your shoulders to see your clothes on the floor stopping his fingers. He pulled away and placed you on the floor delicately before moving to move your sweater and removing his shirt to make a makeshift blanket on the floor. Though it was carpeted. He picked you up before gently placing you down on top of the garments. 
He plopped himself between your legs, throwing your shorts beneath the two of you. Lips finding each other. Moans and whimpers echoed in the room as you held onto each other tighter desperately grinding against one another. He gripped his cock out from its confines and tore open a condom, the only cloth left on his body was his sweats. After sheathing himself he slowly traced your pussy lips. 
Your body jerked, “Channie please..” 
“Please what pretty?” he teased your old chan slowly returning. You smiled before your mouth formed an o, hips stuttering as Chan spread your lips, grazing your clit with his member. He licked his fingers using them to wet your pussy thoroughly stimulating your wetness to produce in ample amounts. He slowly pushed in just the tip, a sigh leaving his lip.
“Aah..” your back rose from the floor as Chan slowly ground into you, ‘You felt so warm so so slippery fuck he had missed this so much.’ 
Your arms found solace behind his neck playing with the hair while Chan held his body weight on one arm, his other grabbing your face to kiss you dirty and deep, teeth clashing and spit exchanging. The sounds muffled as the two of you breathed into each other's mouths. He had begun to pull away to the tip before pushing back in. Repeating the action as your mind grew dumb. A loud moan broke through the room as he found a comfortable pace to thrust. Just then a beep was heard and the main door to the studio opened. Your eyes widened as Chan slapped his hand on your mouth. He stopped thrusting but grinded slowly not to lose the momentum. You both were huddled on the floor near the wall out of the vision line. But still your heart began to beat faster. The janitor was simply checking whether the studio had vacated, but he saw Chan’s bag and jacket in the room. After a few moments, he left thinking Chan had gone on break. Your whimpers were muffled by his hands as he breathed in relief at the sound of the door closing and locking automatically. His hip still moving slowly you felt his pubic bone rubbing against your clit with each jerk. Chan removed his hand to see you drool a bit 
“See, I told you it was a bad id- Chris!” he snapped his hips fast you screamed but it was in a soundproof room. “Fuck baby, so wet for me.. aah I missed this... Missed-mph so much. Your cunt is so warm…. So warm.” he nudged your gooey spot and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him closer. Chan now thrust into your hole, fast and deep licking his index and middle finger before bringing it to draw on your clitoris. He drew mindless shapes on the swollen bud as he groaned into the skin of your neck biting your shoulders. Because of all the movement, his pants too slipped off his frame near his feet. 
Your nails dug into his skin as the two of you lost yourselves in each other. “Baby, I’m so close, are you? I wanna... Ah fuck.. I wanna cum with you..” he voiced breathing ragged as he kissed your plump lips. 
You could only manage babbles “Yeah..ah.. So- bi..ig cha- aah” 
He took your nipple into his mouth and your back arched pushing your breasts into his face. 
“Chan.. Chris I’m I’m cumming..” you breathed words cut off by moans. 
“God... fuck princess me too.” as the second orgasm for Chan washed over that night you moaned carelessly knowing well only he could hear it. He jerked his hips a few times before emptying completely into the rubber and falling onto your body. His whole weight felt comforting to you, like a heavy warm blanket. He was still inside you as the two of you caught your breath.
_
The source of light from his desktop had dimmed long ago but the window was open and soft moonlight made your vision visible. Chan moved his body to hover over yours again. You were still in a blissed-out state. 
“You okay?” he asked softly pulling out, his nose nudging your face before he placed a soft kiss on your jaw.
“I’m okay.” you say taking his face in your hands again, “you?”
“I’m better, sweetheart. I needed this,” he says, kissing you once more before getting off the floor. Chan disposed of the condom and checked whether the coast was clear before moving the chair blocking the door. Tightening his pants he walked out of the recording room shirtless and rummaged around his table. You sat up once he returned with a tissue box and some water. 
“Thank you.” you finish gulping the water before moving onto your feet. Your sweater was stained with your release Chris apologetically handed it to you. You did not mind reassuring him with a peck on his cheek and grabbing the rest of your innerwear and putting them on. Thankfully your shorts and his T-shirt were clean. 
Stepping out of the record room he turned on the dim light, you grabbed his jacket to cover your upper body, the outfit big for your frame. Chan clad in his t-shirt hugs you from behind as you are zipping it up. 
You looked at him to kiss his cheek. 
“Let’s go home,” you say placing your hands on his. 
“I have to finish this babe.” he calmly said. Before you could protest your boyfriend lifted you off the ground and he sat back down on his chair you on his thighs. 
“Don't worry, I’ll just record a sample and we can go. I’ll do the rest with Jisung soon.” he did, and you applauded his stamina with a kiss before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He worked on with you sleeping peacefully in his lap even when he sang into the mic. His mind felt clearer and he finished the job within an hour. 
“Done,” he said looking down to see you fast asleep, gripping onto his t-shirt. He checked his phone after packing his things into his bag on the ground still not waking you up.
There were notifications from Han which read, ‘Hyung, I’m sorry. I’ll work harder tomorrow. Fried chicken on me?’ he felt the last of his worries vanish knowing that the younger was not mad at him. He shot a quick reply with lots of hearts and gently woke you up. 
“Baby? Let’s go home.” 
_
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𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘤𝘹 ©
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝
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A/N: What would I give to love this man like this. Hope you enjoy this
tags 🏷️: @comet-falls
note: Hi love it's _🪽anon, Blog reveal haha. I hope you enjoy this. Let's be moots? (If that is alright). If you loved this fic do check out my other works too, I would love to get some tips from you as you are one of the authors I look up to.
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kisses4reid · 7 days
Text
big change | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - cutting spencer’s hair results in more than just a ‘big change’ appearance wise.
genre - fluff!!!!! cutesy yearning
warnings - idk u scared of haircuts?? scissors??? kissing?? (barely edited btw)
a/n - sometimes i black out and write a fanfic and then find it later on and then i’m like shit this kinda fire and then i edit it and then i post it and then-
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You roll your chair over to Spencer’s desk after much staring, and rest an elbow on a low stack of manila folders. Your sneakers squeak as you slow yourself, causing a visible flinch from the long haired boy.
His brunet hair was flicked up at the ends which touched his shoulders, the front pieces tucked behind his ears. As he lifted his gaze, hard expression softening immediately, you whispered, “I know your secret.”
His smile jolted, heart beat quickening. You had a cheeky smile on, hair twirling between your fingers, talking so low. You couldn’t possibly know his secret.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” He asked, placing his pen down and turning to give you his full attention.
“You don’t know how to cut your hair.” His long hair suited him, you thought he looked as handsome as he did on your first day of work how many years ago. The day Spencer fell in love.
Dumbfounded, Spencer replied with a pout, “I know how to cut my hair.”
You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly he was aware of the jagged lines and length of his hair, and how he was now bringing hair ties with him everywhere. Which was actually convenient for all female members of the team. He had to admit, it was inconvenient at times, and it wasn’t his favourite to deal with or to look at. He looked back into your sparkling expecting eyes, smiled softly, and continued, “You should cut it for me.”
You lifted your head from your palm and raised your eyebrows, a pink flush ghosting your cheeks. The offer was innocent, it was a favour, but something about it felt so domestic in your head that you couldn’t help but smile hard, cheeks pressing, “Yeah, of course.”
You pushed off his desk and returned to yours, though his gaze never left your sunny appearance.
The next day, you were knocking on a familiar apartment door, rocking on your sneaker heels, eyes wandering anywhere but where you thought Spencer would be when he opened the door. But even when he did open his door, after a thud and small ‘ow’, you couldn’t help but look at him and savour the last moments with his long hair.
He had a navy blue sweater over a white t-shirt, some sweatpants that looked more formal from afar, and mis-match socks on. You gulped and stepped into his apartment, taking everything in as if you hadn’t been there before.
You took off your light purple scarf and placed it on the kitchen counter, along side the small hair cutting kit you had gotten a few years ago (you couldn’t afford a hair cut before your first day at the BAU, it was a diy emergency).
The apartment was dark and cosy, cabinets a rich wood tone, countertops squeaky clean, couches plush and thrifted. You two often talked about the best thrift stores to visit, you had even planned to go to one together one day. As Spencer pulled a wooden bar stool into the kitchen to sit on, you tied your own hair up, reminding yourself of why you were here.
He smelt amazing, like a new book and burnt marshmallow, and as he gazed into your eyes waiting for you to speak, a cat caught your tongue. You were alone in this warm apartment, only the soft music of Spencer’s old playlist in the background, and a heart beating that you weren’t sure was yours or his.
“Um- Okay. Do you have a reference photo or?”
“Yeah,” he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and showed you a reference photo. It was like he wanted to be a boy band member, and as you imagined him with it, you couldn’t be happier.
He got nervous watching your reaction, it was a very drastic change. You placed his phone on the counter top next to your hair kit, his eyes following your every move like if he blinked you would dissipate. And when a small smile ghosted your face, he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders.
"I like it."
"Good."
You leaned close to Spencer, your heat radiating onto him, to pull a lever on his chair to lower him to your eye level. A spray bottle appeared in your hand while the other covered Spencer's brown eyes. Suddenly, cold sprits of water caused Spencer to flinch every time he heard the trigger fire, causing you to giggle lightly. "It's just water." "I didn't get any warning though." He replied sheepishly. He couldn't hear much over his heartbeat, or see much other than you.
The next 15 minutes was spent in radio music and being surrounded by your sweet perfume, trying not to grab you or touch you as much as he wanted to. You were stood in front of him now, eyes focused on his bangs and the hair around his ears, scissors and comb in hand, and he couldn't stop gazing into your eyes like a little boy looking at the stars.
You were utterly gorgeous, beautiful, unreal. Spencer often wondered, especially at the start of your relationship, how nobody else had tried to date you in the team, or in general. But as the two of you grew closer, he realised you were telling everyone no. You were waiting for someone, and it made his heart break everytime he remembered your words.
If only he knew. Your hands jittered slightly, feeling insecure at his hard gaze that you simply couldn't ignore. You hoped in the dim lighting he couldn't see your red cheeks or steep breaths, or that he could. You hoped you never finished cutting his hair, and you thought of other ways you could stay this close. He was tall, warm, comfortable. He was smart, caring, clean. He was Spencer, who wouldn't want to stay with him? A gulp escaped you, and he ripped his eyes off of yours, looking down to avoid your eyes and to see the damage.
There was piles of hair beneath your feet now, and he smiled at the sight.
"Spencer, stop moving your head. I couldv'e cut off your eyebrows." Your laugh filled the apartment, and he looked back up at you.
He hadn't realised how far you had gotten, your eyes scanning his hair for any improvements before a small smile of approval appeared on your cheeks. A breath escaped him. You turned to close your kit. He stood up and placed a hand on the front of your neck, turning your head, and planting his lips on yours.
You squeaked in surprise, quickly kissing back as his hands traveled to your cheeks, holding onto you like you were the only girl in the world. Your fingertips splayed on his chest, you pulled away only to be followed for another kiss, only broken up by a millisecond of a breath.
You opened your eyes and pushed him softly away, noticing the lipstick now stained on his lips and around them. The dim kitchen was spinning, your chest was heaving, and your heart was racing a million beats per minute. You even got a little light-headed before Spencer took his hands from your face and rest them on your waist.
He was much taller now that he wasn't sat, and he looked even more handsome with the haircut you had given him. For a second you thought you were hallucinating. Spencers eyes played between your lips and your eyes, before meeting you in the middle once again. He lifted you slightly, kissing you with movements full of yearning and passion, slowly with multiple breaths in the middle to give you time to reject him (which he expected), but you never did.
You put one hand on his cheek as he pulled away. He smiled widely at you, taking the enthusiasm back as a good sign. He didn't totally fuck up. You whispered, "You kiss your barbers often?" He replied with a cheeky smile, "Only you."
taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
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evie-sturns · 10 days
Text
toddler - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.
contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?
a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.
----———--------------..••°°°°••..------------————
7:38pm
matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.
i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.
yesterday
“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up
“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him
matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”
“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”
“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.
“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells
the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom
“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.
my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.
i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins
“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.
she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.
“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head
i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.
i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh
suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed
“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.
millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire
as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something
“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in
i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face
“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor
“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths
he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths
he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me
“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.
“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.
“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”
matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.
i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down
“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.
“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.
millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt
matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response
“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs
“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.
“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie
“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks
millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand
“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead
they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.
matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands
“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.
“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”
claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.
matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.
after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.
“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod
—-
8:56pm
matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.
matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.
“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.
i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.
“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.
“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.
“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper
“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression
“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”
matt goes silent,
“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks
“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”
i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.
matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.
the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.
“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.
“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out
“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”
matt rambles
“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”
“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”
matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.
“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.
matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep
————
9:56am the next day
the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,
my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.
i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.
i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.
the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight
my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.
“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.
“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.
they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile
millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.
“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.
“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me
“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.
————
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
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cordeliawhohung · 1 month
Text
pet!au part 2 | ghoap x fem!reader
simon brings you home
cw: stalking, panty/clothing stealing, drugging, kidnapping, non-con touching, nsfw, simon is a freak and johnny is pathetic
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Things began to go missing in your apartment around July. 
They were simple things at first. Items that could easily be lost in some hidden crevice you wouldn’t find until you moved out of the place. At first, it started out with clothing, and they were usually items you wouldn’t pay much mind to. When you lost your favorite pair of underwear, you treated it just like you did with your mismatched socks. What a shame. You’ll just have to buy more later. 
Then a pair of underwear became a pair of shorts, which then became a bra, and then a shirt, and then your favorite sweater. It was the one you always wore when it was cold out, and though you hadn’t worn it for months, you noticed its distinct disappearance from your closet. Strange. You swore it was hanging up with the rest of your jumpers earlier that week. Perhaps you had put it in storage and forgot? You’d have to check some other time, you were going to be late to work. 
While you had been plenty attentive when it came to your missing clothing, there were many other things you didn’t notice. Like a shampoo bottle slightly out of place in your shower. Strands of hair untangled from your brush. New scratches on your deadbolt. The masked man who watched you exit your apartment. 
Simon had learned that when it came to obtaining pets, he needed to do the process slowly. Snatching you right off of the streets wasn’t going to accomplish anything if things were too unfamiliar to you. No, he needed to make sure you were comfortable. So he tracked down the brand of toiletries you used, your style of clothing, your sizing, everything. He found those exact brands and bought copies that would greet you when he would finally bring you home. 
Meanwhile, he had an impatient animal at home to satiate, so taking a few personal items couldn’t hurt. What better way to get Johnny acquainted with your presence than having him sleep with the pair of panties he had snatched from your laundry? He was certain he had caught the mutt jerking off with the fabric wrapped around his cock the other night, but he was just happy to not be pestered into fucking the pathetic thing, so he let it slide. 
There were more important things for Simon to do than fuck Johnny every time his cock got hard, which was often. That was going to be your job, as it seemed like you needed a new one based on the rejection email he saw on your laptop. Looks like that interview you had been dressed up for a few weeks back hadn’t gone all that great, and judging by the dead look in your eyes as you worked the late shift at the bar, you were desperate. 
Good. Desperate pets always made the best listeners. 
At least your top was nice that night. Something Johnny would certainly enjoy seeing you in. Some low cut tank top that attempted to fight off the sweltering heat that lingered in the small confines of the bar. Even Simon had to admit that he felt sweaty and claustrophobic in that place, yet he still refused to remove that thick balaclava. The perspiration caused the skin on your chest to become illuminated under the dull glow of the light fixtures above you, and you were too busy serving drink after drink to pay any mind to the strange bloke hidden in the corner. For such a perceptive pet, you couldn’t manage to see the forest through the trees. Always paid perfect attention to the head on the beers you served, and how clean your station was, but couldn’t taste the pill Simon had slipped into the soda you had sipped on that night. 
Of course, he was patient with it. Didn’t want to slip you anything too early into your shift. Your co-workers were bound to get annoyed with your absence and go looking for you. No, he waited until the patrons dwindled to just a small handful before approaching you to pay for the drink he hadn’t taken a sip of all night. Simon was well aware of the effect he had on people. He was a large man with unkind eyes and a bitter attitude, yet you still put on a brave face and smiled at him as you took the cash from his hand. Didn’t bother to check your drink for tampering before downing the rest like it was a shot when you returned. 
By the time the world started to spin and you felt your dinner from that night wanting to come back up to say hello, Simon was ready. With pupils blown so wide and dilated, it was impossible for you to think straight. Your body didn’t know right from wrong, and so when his arm wrapped around your waist, it didn’t fight against him. Everything you were had been rendered into nothing but a perfect, pliant mess for him. 
It wasn’t until Simon pulled in front of the house that he realized he might have given you too strong of a dose. You hadn’t stirred the entire car ride, and he had to check your pulse to see if you were still breathing, and he was slightly relieved when he felt the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He didn’t even want to imagine the whining he would have to hear from Johnny if he had accidentally killed you. Not to worry. It was best if you were asleep anyway. Johnny would certainly pounce on you otherwise. Cradling you in his arms, your limp body was brought into the house, and Johnny bounded out of the living room the moment the door slammed shut behind him. His eyes were as wide as saucers the moment they landed on your body. You looked so soft. He wanted to dive right into you. 
“Down,” Simon warned.
Johnny’s impatience was drowned out by the static that jolted through his body. This new excitement had his blood coursing through his veins with resurrected vigor. Refusing to give Simon any reason to deny him his new treat, Johnny trailed behind him like a good pup as he brought you into the bedroom. You were placed on the mattress with such care one could have confused you for some prized possession. If he wasn’t afraid you’d shatter, Johnny would have thrown himself on top of you. 
“She’s so fuckin’ beautiful, Si. A goddamn angel, she is. Please, can I? Let me touch her, I wanna touch her,” Johnny asked, eyes begging for approval. 
Before giving him a reply, Simon’s hand reached for his throat. The thick leather collar that adorned his neck always got twisted around one way or another, and he quickly straightened it out. Silver glinted in the dim lighting of the bedroom as Simon’s thumb swiped across his dog tag. Soap was the name Johnny proudly wore on his collar; one he never even dreamed of taking off. 
“Play nice, yeah?” Simon ordered. 
Johnny nodded, and once he had gotten his confirmation, Simon let go of the leather around his throat. Wasting no time appearing by your side, Johnny laid down next to your motionless body on the mattress where he enveloped you in his embrace. Had you been awake, you certainly would have cried out at his crushing grip, but your unconscious body didn’t know any better. It gave him no reaction as his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck where he inhaled long and deep against your skin. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, hips grinding against your thigh, “smells like heaven too. Christ…” 
Wandering hands pawed at your body, taking things from you in your unaware state that you were sure to miss come morning. But how was he supposed to stop when your supple flesh felt like a divine comfort in the palm of his hand? Simon had gotten you for him. This was his right. This was what he had earned. 
“When will she wake up?” Johnny asked, not bothering to remove his face from your neck. 
“Dunno,” Simon replied, bored. “Have your fun, just don’t fuck her. You hear me, mutt? Keep that fuckin’ cock dry ‘til I tell you, yeah?” 
“Yes sir,” he answered, though it was impossible to fully hide the whine in his tone. 
As Simon’s feet meandered out of the room, Johnny only buried himself further into you. Hands under your shirt, hardened bulge against your thighs — he couldn’t get enough of you. Your scent was intoxicating, and he couldn’t hold back the groans that escaped his mouth while his lips pressed against your jaw. 
“Welcome home, Bonnie.”
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Note
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Bucky is supposed to be training for an upcoming mission, but you decide to go to the Avengers Compound to distract him and he has a different mission on his mind🥵🤤❤️‍🔥
Not Until I Say So
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PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
WARNINGS: Degrading (Calling reader a 'slut'), spanking, roughhousing, edging, p in v, unprotected sex (my dears, please wrap your man's sausage before you go riding), Oral sex (f receiving), squirting. (If I've missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)
WORD COUNT: 1,277
*not proof-read*
ENJOY!
You can hear the grunts before you can see the man creating them.
The compound isn’t as busy than usual; you think it’s because of the week-long Easter break Tony put into action.
But that isn’t your worry now; your main focus is to visit your man.
Pushing open the doors of the gym, you see Bucky bench pressing at least 450 pounds. You don’t want to interrupt him, so you sit patiently on the bench next to him and the machine. When he does finish, he lets out a huff, and it makes your knees go a little weak.
“Hey, babe,” you smile sweetly and walk over to him.
He turns at the sound of your voice, and the frown on his face vanishes, replaced by an upside-down smile. “Doll,” he smiles, but then makes a motion for you to not hug him, “I’m all drenched in sweat, sugar. After a shower, yeah?”
You slightly pout, “I don’t mind the sweat.” Bucky chuckles and raises a brow at you, “yeah?”
You nod and smooth out the crinkles of your skirt.
The skirt you purposefully picked to wear today.
You were, according to Bucky’s words, a ‘good girl’.
You wanted to do something that was so out of the ordinary that it would make Bucky go speechless.
Little did he know, you were going commando.
“Oh, I brought you a lil’ something,” you turn and face your back to him. Smirking, you bend over as slowly as you can and reach for your purse.
You look through it and pretend as if you can’t find the object you had in mind, “I swear it was right here.” Your heart beats faster when you hear Bucky let out a low growl.
“What do we have here, doll,” you can feel him walk behind you. Before you can get a word in or even move, Bucky’s hands are on your hips, locking you in place.
You gasp as you feel his hips make contact with your bare ass.
You slightly shudder at the feeling of his hard-on grinding against your slit.
“Bucky,” you whisper.
You boyfriend chuckles, “what is it, doll?” He caresses the back of your thighs, “You’re the one who came in here, bringing in this surprise with you.”
You nod, unable to speak as you feel your cunt grow wetter with his grinding.
“Is this what my good girl does, sugar?” He tut’s his tongue and completely lets go of you. You stand straighter in confusion and turn back to face him.
You’re met with his smirk and hungry stare. “Showers. Two minutes,” is all he says to you before turning and heading in that direction.
------- It’s been five minutes.
You’re really pushing it.
You push open the door to the showers, and your immediately being pushed up against the door.
“Lemme show you how bad you been today, princess,” he whispers against your ear, before turning you around and shoving you up the door. “First, no underwear and then making me wait. Oh, you’ve been bad,” he drops an octave when he says the finishing word.
“Sweater. Off. Now,” he growls, still fully clothed. You quickly take off your sweater and toss it somewhere before you place your palms flat on the door and shimmy your ass out to him.
“Fuck me, doll,” he growls and grabs your hips, then he flips up your skirt. “Such a lil’ slut, just begging to be fucked,” he drags his clothed, hard, cock up and down your opening.
You moan at the feeling of him nearly protruding your entrance, you reach for the hem of your skirt, wanting to take it off.
But Bucky slaps your arm away. “Oh no, princess. Skirt stays on,” he smacks your ass playfully before grabbing a handful and jiggling it hard.
You whine at the feeling, your pussy growing needier and needier as seconds go by.
“Bucky, baby, please. I need you,” you whisper, cheek flush against the wooden door.
Bucky chuckles at your neediness, before getting on his knees.
You hear his knees hit the tiled floor, and your eyes light up in anticipation.
“Spread ‘em wider for me, princess,” Bucky whispers against your ass. You shift your ankles so you’re bent and spread wider for him.
You don’t see it, but Bucky looks at you like you’re a three-course meal. His hungry stare would burn you if it could.
Bucky smacks and grabs your ass before shoving his face between your thighs and licking a thick stripe up your slit.
You jaw drops and your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape as you moan loudly as the feeling of his thick tongue. Soon he swirls his tongue over your little button, making your legs quake at the sensation.
You hear his lewd licks, and moan softly as you feel the vibrations of his groans through your cunt. “God, Bucky don’t stop please,” you whine and push your ass back, pressing it further onto his face.
Bucky starts kitten licking at your entrance, you voice grows higher and higher. “Fuck, Buck! I’m going to come,” you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel your orgasm start to approach. And just as it was about to wash over you, Bucky pulls away.
He spits at your cunt and wipes it all over with his finger. “Oh no, doll. You’re coming on my cock, not on my tongue. That is, if I let you,” he says lowly before standing back up.
“Gotta teach my doll on how to behave, since she’s not really good at following instructions. Isn’t that right, slut?” You shouldn’t be turned on by the way he degrades you, but you really can’t help the way you moan loudly at his words.
Bucky unbuttons and unzips his trousers before shoving them down to his thighs. “Oh you like that, don’t you? You like it when I call you a slut, huh?” Bucky lines himself with your entrance, and just slams in.
You wail, and hit the door with your fist. Your pain is mixed with pleasure, and you swear to the heavens it’s the best feeling you ever felt, “Jesus, Bucky. Yes!” Bucky starts thrusting into you like an animal, whispering dirty things into your ear.
Which each sentence, your closer and closer to your high. “Fuck! Gripping me like a vice, doll,” he brings his hand down on your ass, a red welt marking its place. You whine at the sensation the burn mixing in well with your euphoria.
Suddenly Bucky stops, and you think you just might cry. “No. Bucky, please. I-,” you beg, you need the release. Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “like I said, doll. You don’t come, until I say so.”
He keeps his word.
You think he edges you for hours, you beg and beg until your voice is horse from all the moaning and whining.
Soon, you're flush with how pent-up you are.
And finally, Bucky tells you to let go.
“Go ahead, princess. Come f’me,” he growls against the nape of your neck.
And you let the orgasm wash over you so hard, you make a mess everywhere.
On Bucky’s clothes, on your skirt, even the floor.
You’re high takes you so far, that you start seeing black.
But before you can go, Bucky’s already holding on to you.
“Right here, doll. M’right here,” he helps you sit on a nearby bench, and helps you clean yourself up.
Bucky comes to stand in front of you and crouches to your level, he places a gentle kiss on your lips before looking you back in the eye.
“Learnt your lesson, doll?”
💌💌💌
@sergeantbarnessdoll , here it is my love!!!
This is very sloppily written, lol😅😅😅
Lemme know what you lovelies think!!!
Till' then
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
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natalievoncatte · 3 months
Text
“We should play truth or dare.”
Kara nearly choked on her wine when she realized what Lena had said. That sounded like an amazingly terrible and yet incredibly intriguing idea. She turned to say something when she caught Alex giving her a look that could shatter diamonds. Kara downed the last of her wine and said,
“It’s getting pretty late, Lena.”
“You’re no fun,” Lena said, poking Kara in the center of her chest for emphasis.
Kara was glad she was sober. It wasn’t entirely true that she was immune to alcohol- it just took about a gallon of grain alcohol for her to feel a mild buzz for a few minutes, then have to run to the bathroom as her superhuman metabolism almost instantly forced it out of her system. Alex had “helped” her discover that once back in high school, and they both ended up grounded for a month.
“Come on, Kara. This way I can find out where you’re always running off to. In vino, veritas.”
Kara looked around and saw her own mirrored panic rising in the others. Kelly looked on from the kitchen, the only other member of their little group who was oblivious to the sheer weight of what Lena just said. Nia looked even more green than she had a moment earlier, and Alex was giving Kara a warning look, shaking her head behind Lena.
Brainy, for his part, remained mellow, sipping his grape soda. He was the designated driver for the night.
“Yeah, we need to go,” Nia threw in. “It’s been fun but I have an early day tomorrow.”
“It’s Saturday,” Lena protested, but it came out shaturday.
“I have to get up for yoga,” said Nia.
“We’re all in the same class on Thursday,” said Lena.
“Um, I’m getting ready for the yoga championships. Extra classes.”
Lena raised an arched brow.
Alex cut in, suddenly. “Kelly babe, you ready?”
“If you are. I was going to see if Kara needs help with the dishes.”
“I’m fine,” Kara called out, hearing the alarm in her own voice.
“Lena, are you riding with us?”
“Nah,” said Lena. “I’ll stay.”
Alex cleared her throat.
“How will you get home? You’re sauced, Miss Luthor.”
Lena grinned and looked over at Kara. “I’ll just stay over. I do it all the time.”
Alex’s brows climbed up and she turned to Kara with an incredulous expression.
“When did that start?”
“It’s no big deal. I live on the other side of town and Kara has a nice couch.”
Alex seemed to relax a little. Kara’s heart was trying to slam through her ribs.
“Okay.”
They all bundled out of the apartment, with Alex promising to text and Brainy swearing to let Kara know they were all home safe.
Kara closed the door behind them and turned around. Lena was still curled up on the couch, swirling the last of her wine in the bottom of the glass. She was in leggings and a big, baggy sweater that had been pulled to one side so hard that it almost bared her shoulder. Her hair was down and had gone wavy, falling over one half of her face, making her mysterious and distant. She downed the last swig of wine and put the glass down.
“We could still play truth or dare.”
“Lena,” said Kara. “You’re really drunk.”
“So are you.”
Kara swallowed, hard, feeling the bitter bile of her lies at the back of her throat. She wasn’t drunk at all. She was barely even tired; the city had been miraculously calm all summer.
“Which is it, Kara? Truth or dare.”
“Neither,” said Kara. “I think what you need is some sleep.”
Lena rested her glass on the coffee table, in the middle of a game of Monopoly that they’d all been too drunk to finish.
(Except Kara. Lena would have won, because Kara always agreed to whatever trade Lena offered, because saying no to Lena was harder than lifting a submarine over her head)
Kara leaned back against the kitchen counter coolly, trying not to betray her emotions. That turned into a job for Supergirl as Lena rose from the sofa with seductive grace, stalking across the loft with feline intensity. She was at once cuddly and soft in her sweater and a seductive vamp with her long inky locks pulled over one shoulder and the other bare.
Kara’s eyes locked on the bared skin, soft and creamy and crying out for a warm touch, then pulled away sharply as she willed herself not to ogle her best friend. It was a losing battle. Every step brought Kara back to the sway of her hips or the way her leggings gripped her thighs or the soft promise of her curves beneath that sweater.
Kara was starting to think she might be gay.
Lena stepped into her space. With both of them barefoot, Kara had a notable height advantage. Lena reduced it by rising on her tiptoes and threw her arms around Kara’s neck.
Kara had few weaknesses. Kryptonite. Magic. If kept up long enough, oxygen deprivation.
Lena Luthor.
She was so close that Kara could taste her breath, the fruity tang of the wine and the soft, inviting scent of Lena beneath her perfume. She was wearing a soft pink lip gloss that drew Kara to stare at her lips. She could almost feel them without touching. Her blue-green eyes were dark and sultry, and she leaned in on Kara, pressing the soft weight of her breasts against her chest.
Kara’s pulse went like a hummingbird and her knees went wobbly, but she simply ignored gravity.
Kara had other advantages. She could see the heat bloom on her skin and feel the change in he skin conductivity, and hear her heart racing. Lena’s pulse nearly matched her own.
Before she knew what she was doing, Kara had her hands resting on Lena’s sides just above her hips, moving on pure instinct. All she’d have to do was dip her head a fraction and she’d be kissing her. She was so close.
“Please pick dare,” Lena whispered.
It too every fiber of her being not to say “dare,” but she held her tongue. She also held Lena.
“I can’t. You’re drunk and I’m not.”
“Hi drunk, I’m dad.”
“Lena! This is serious!”
“Oh, you’re serious. I thought you were daddy.”
“Lena!”
“I dare you to…”
Kara pressed her finger to Lena’s lips.
“Lena, please listen. You’re drunk. I’m not. If you still want to do… whatever this is… in the morning, I… I want that. But not like this.”
Lena frowned and Kara thought she might die of sheer sorrow right there.
“Okay. Should I go home?”
“No, absolutely not. Just… do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll explain in the morning. I promise I’ll,” she swallowed hard, choking down the fear. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“Okay.”
Kara sighed and scooped Lena up, easily taking her weight in her arms. Lena yelped and hugged tight around her, clinging close and pressing cheek to cheek. Kara wanted to kiss her so bad that it ached in her chest, throbbed in her veins, but she didn’t. She carried her to the couch.
“Wait,” Lena said. “Can’t I sleep in the bed with you? I promise I won’t try anything.”
Kara nodded, mentally wincing. She carried Lena around to the bed and laid her down, drawing the blankets over her and settling her head on the pillow.
She had a choice to make her. The right thing to do, the honorable and chivalrous thing, would be to go sleep on the couch. She knew that, but the very idea of it was anathema to her.
To her credit, she stepped out of the bedroom to change and she put on pajama bottoms.
Kara took the far side of the bed, staring straight up. She didn’t expect to sleep a wink, but somehow she drifted off.
When she woke up, there was a weight on her. She looked down and found Lena pillowed on her chest. With a sigh, Kara rolled onto her side and drew Lena close, sheltering the other woman in her arms. In sleep she looked peaceful, so free of the worries and fears and anxieties that dogged her when she was awake.
Kara knew she should stop stroking Lena’s hair, knew she should let go of her, but the soft, hypnotic beat of Lena’s heart was nothing she could escape. She held Lena a little tighter, her own heart fluttering when Lena murmured her name on her sleep and hugged her back.
They woke up like that, Lena tucked in close under Kara’s chin. Lena was already awake when Kara woke up.
“Hi,” said Lena.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
“Head hurts.”
“I’ll get you something,” Kara said, starting to rise.
“Oh no you don’t,” said Lena, tugging her back down. “You said you were going to tell me everything.”
Kara froze.
“How much of last night do you remember?”
“I remember the part where I tried to climb you like a tree and you bridal-carried me to bed and tucked me in,” said Lena. “And the part where you started hugging me like a teddy bear.”
“You started that.”
Lena snorted. “Why didn’t you kiss me?”
“Like I said, you were drunk, and I can’t… not until I… you don’t know everything.”
Lena sighed, looking away, and then looked up.
“So, truth then. Are you Supergirl?”
Kara flinched back, momentarily struck numb. If she was asking that, it meant she knew the answer.
Lena stared at her hopefully, almost pleadingly, her big pretty eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She bit her lip and Kara melted, feeling herself turn to goo.
“Yes.”
Lena let out a long sigh of blessed relief, closing her eyes.
“Lena?”
“It’s my turn. I pick truth.”
“Okay, um,” said Kara, “why did you ask me why I didn’t kiss you?”
Lena rolled her eyes. “Because you’ve been staring at me like I’m a bowl of potstickers for years, and I was wondering if you were ever going to make a move.”
“Why would I look at you like you’re food?”
“I meant you were looking at me like I’m something you want to eat, Kara.”
“I’m not that kind of alien.”
Lena tensed, breathing sharply as she looked stunned and a little hurt.
“Wait,” Kara blurted, “oh Rao that was a joke, I didn’t mean I don’t want to… I really do want… I just , I’m… I don’t know what to say now.”
“I’m in love with you,” Lena sighed.
Kara froze. “You… you’re… with me… IIloveyoutoo.”
The mashed-together declaration had barely escaped her lips when Lena lunged closer and kissed her. From there it was pure chaos. Lena pulled and Kara followed, rapidly ending up on top of her as she shimmied out of last night’s outfit.
Kara pulled back from a soul-burning kiss as she felt the heat of Lena’s bare skin under her hands.
“Wait,” she said. “If I picked truth last night, what would you have asked?”
Lena smirked.
“Why do you stare at my chest all the time?”
Kara laughed, snorting a little.
“I’ll show you.”
608 notes · View notes
bookyeom · 3 months
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pairing: mingyu x reader word count: 3k warnings: kissing, swearing, Mingyu being a simp
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Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. (Also, this fic in particular references the iconic 1987 film Some Kind of Wonderful, but I think I explained it well enough for someone who may not have seen it! However, if you haven’t seen it… Watch it. In my opinion, it tops all of those “must-see” movies like Sixteen Candles, etc. I adore this movie. The OG friends-to-lovers.)
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nothin’ on you by b.o.b., bruno mars
they might say hi and i might say hey but you shouldn’t worry about what they say ’cause they’ve got nothing on you, babe
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You groan as the doorbell rings, your eyes finding the time on your phone. You’d just settled in with your bunny pajamas and your rattiest, biggest, comfiest sweater, and you really don't want to move now. What you want is to disappear into the couch that you’d spent way too much money on, under your favourite blanket, and mindlessly scroll through social media videos of cats for hours while pretending you aren't perpetually single on the holiday of love. 
As much as you try to ignore it, the ringing only becomes more persistent, mixed with obnoxious, intermittent knocking. You groan again and stand up, making your way over to the door in annoyance. There are only a handful of people who would dare to be so irritating — Soonyoung if he wanted food, Chan if he wanted to show you a new dance routine, or… 
“Mingyu?”
“Hi,” he says brightly, and your brain short circuits. He looks as wonderful as always, black hoodie and sweats, eyes warm as he waits for you to reply like a normal human. 
You know that the right answer would be a greeting in response, but all you can think to say instead is, “It’s Valentine’s Day?” When Mingyu’s face falls a little bit, you hurry to explain yourself. “I mean… Do you not have plans?” 
Admittedly, that response isn’t much better, but you genuinely don't know the answer to your own question. You had just assumed that he did have plans — you hadn’t even considered the possibility of him being alone today, honestly. You hadn’t really wanted to think too much about it. It wasn’t like it’d be hard for funny, kind, Adonis-among-men Mingyu to find a date. All he had to do was smile at any man or woman in his general vicinity and they’d be under his spell. 
You know first hand what that feels like.
Your best friend showing up at your door on February 14th has replayed a thousand times in your brain. You’ve been head over heels in love with him for years now. The fantasy usually consists more of him in a tuxedo holding a huge bouquet of roses, proclaiming his love for you before kissing you passionately, but you can’t deny that you like this casual, tuxedo-less Mingyu just as much — if not more. He’s just… Mingyu. Soft and warm in that hoodie that you love, holding a box of your favourite pizza in one hand, a bag of who knows what else in the other.
“Do you not want me here?” He pouts, and you cave.
You sigh, but a smile makes its way to your face regardless. “Of course I do, Gyu. I just thought you had plans, that’s all.”
“I do,” he counters. “With you.”
You ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words, ignore the soft smile he sends your way when you move aside to let him in. “Alright, then… Let’s be single as hell on Valentine’s Day, together.” 
Mingyu beams, stepping past you and into the apartment. 
“Movie?” He suggests as he slips off his shoes and immediately makes his way to the kitchen with the pizza. You hear the sound of cupboards opening and closing as he makes his way around with ease, like he knows where everything is like the back of his hand. Because he does. Your heart stutters a bit in your chest at the reminder of how well he fits into your life, how well he knows your apartment.
He knows you pretty well, too, which is actually a big part of the reason you’re so surprised that he’d shown up today. 
Because anyone who knows you knows that you’re in love with Kim Mingyu. Even new people who spend just five minutes with the two of you can tell, and you’re basically a pro at dismissing the couple questions by now. It seems the entire world can tell you’re head over heels except for the man himself, and you really don’t understand how he seems to have absolutely no clue. If he did, you don’t think he’d be so cruel as to suggest spending Valentine’s Day together. 
And yet here he is, moving around your house like it’s his house, too.
He has no idea, you remind yourself. He’s just alone on Valentine’s Day, and he likes spending time with you. That’s all.
You busy yourself setting up in the living room, making room on your side table for the pizza and whatever else he’d brought. You catch sight of yourself in the reflection of the TV and grimace. Theoretically, you’re both dressed casually, so you shouldn’t feel underdressed for this impromptu hangout. But in reality, Mingyu looks better than everyone else all the time, no matter what he’s wearing. He reappears a few moments later looking every bit the part of an athleisure model with the pizza box, a bottle of wine, and a box of your favourite chocolates in hand.
“A heart-shaped box of Lindt?” You can’t help but blurt out. It isn’t unlike Mingyu to bring your favourite snacks to movie night, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and the chocolates are in a heart-shaped box.
“It was on sale,” he shrugs in response, settling down on the couch, and you want so badly to question the peculiar choice further. You don’t.
You hand him the remote, grabbing the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor at your abrupt departure from the couch while he puts a movie on. He seems to know exactly what he’s looking for, which is interesting considering he’s one of the most indecisive people you’ve ever met.
“What are we watching?” You ask. “Action? Thriller?”
Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, his other arm already outstretched for you to fall back against. You settle in next to him, pulling your knees up and draping the blanket over the both of you.
“I thought we could do something a bit different tonight,” he finally answers after a pause, and you look up at him in surprise. 
“Like what?”
He simply nods his chin towards the TV, where the opening scenes of the movie he’s chosen are beginning to play. You recognize the title immediately: Some Kind of Wonderful. 
Your heart leaps into your throat.
You’re not sure what to make of this. You’ve never seen the movie, but you know the premise of it: two best friends falling in love. This has to be a joke. You can’t help it as your entire body stiffens, and you tell yourself to relax. 
You can’t.
“Why?” You finally blurt out. Your chest feels tight. You don’t know if you’re reading far too much into it, but when have you ever watched a romance movie together? You’ve expressly made sure that you didn’t.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Mingyu replies. “Thought it would be nice.”
You’re looking at him again, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He finally acknowledges you with raised eyebrows of his own, meeting your eyes briefly before motioning to the TV with his chin.
“Can you just watch it? It’s a good movie, I promise. Give it a chance.”
You nod slowly, doing as he asks, but you can barely focus for the next hour. Everything has been so strange; the movie choice, the way he’d shown up with wine and chocolate — all of which could have been excused, maybe, if it wasn't for the fact that Mingyu is acting strange, too. He’s normally so pliant against you during movie nights, so clingy. But tonight, despite your closeness on the couch, all he does is rest his arm loosely around your shoulders. No fingers tracing your skin, no pulling you against his side, no getting distracted by your hair and attempting to make a shitty braid with it. No maneuvering his own body so that he’s the one with his head in your lap. It feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s waiting for something.
What in the world is going on?
It’s excruciating, but you try to focus. You’re almost there when the ending scene begins to play, but your whole body is still tense. You watch as the main characters, Keith and Watts, finally kiss in the middle of the street, and you think you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You swear Mingyu has tensed up beside you, but you don’t take your eyes off of the screen as Keith finally speaks his confession. 
“I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, well, you’re stupid,” comes the words from Watts, and you suddenly feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. This all feels a little too real. Why did he put this on? What the fuck is Mingyu playing at? 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” At Keith’s last words of dialogue from the screen, you feel Mingyu’s grip on your shoulder tighten. 
“You never asked,” Watts replies, teasing, and you can’t take it anymore. You turn to your best friend, eyes wide, and he slowly moves to turn off the TV.
The atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically, and you can’t look away from him, frozen. You can’t utter a single word. He’s picking at a piece of thread on his sweatpants, eyes downcast as he avoids your gaze. 
It hits you like a brick, the reason why he’s being so strange. It’s because he’s nervous. 
There’s no way. 
A million thoughts race through your mind, a million reasons why going down this road could be a bad idea. But you have to ask — you have to know.
“Why didn’t you have plans tonight, Gyu?”
He meets your eyes again, and you can barely breathe. His gaze holds firm, intense, as he says, “Because I wanted to have plans with you.”
“On Valentine’s Day?” The insinuation of your words is clear, and you know that Mingyu understands exactly what you’re asking.
His eyes remain steady on yours as he replies, easily, “Yes.”
So simple. Certain. Sure. 
You remind yourself to breathe, gathering all the courage that’s left in you to speak again. “‘Why didn’t you tell me?’”
You watch Mingyu’s face as you repeat the words from the movie, your voice trembling just the slightest bit. He’s really looking at you now, a soft smile on his face at your words, and your heart leaps into your throat. He’s stunning. He’s always stunning, but the way he’s looking at you right now has you feeling like you’re walking on air. His gaze is so warm, and you don’t want to look away from him ever again.
“‘You never asked.’”
“Neither did you.” Your words are your own now, and Mingyu nods, using the arm around your shoulders to pull you in against his chest. You flush as he draws you towards him, and you briefly wonder if you’re dreaming.
“You’re right.” He gazes down at you fondly, and your hand lifts tentatively to his jaw. He nuzzles into your fingers, turning to gently kiss your palm, and your eyes don’t leave his mouth. His free hand lifts to rest on top of yours, before he softly runs his fingers down your arm and up to your shoulder, your neck, your face.  
“‘I knew you were stupid’,” you quote cheekily from the movie script again. Mingyu’s lips break into a wide smile as he lets out a surprised laugh, canines on full display as he beams. 
Then he’s using his whole body to pull you into him, silencing your own giggles with a kiss. 
Your breath is caught in pleasant surprise, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. You’re impressed with how quickly you’re able to respond after your brain factory resets, the feeling of his lips on yours stunning you for only a moment before you react. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly and earning a pleased hum from him. His teeth gently sink into your lower lip in retaliation, and you can feel your entire body react to it. His hands find your hips, helping move you so that you’re in his lap. All you can feel is him as he pulls you in closer and closer, kissing you like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He finally breaks away to kiss along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, before moving to slowly press one final kiss at the base of your throat, and you can feel goosebumps spread across your skin at the featherlight touch. 
“I love you,” he whispers softly, and you lower your chin to meet his eyes. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s broken out at his words, and you feel a bit like you’re soaring as he continues, “I’m in love with you. I really am, and I need you to know that.” His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, his fingers gently massaging the skin there, and your forehead falls to his. 
“Mingyu…”
He hums, and you pull back to look at him, your fingers moving to softly trace every part of his face. You’ve long since committed him to memory, but one more time can’t hurt. He waits for a moment before he lets out a whine, burying his face into your collarbone.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
You let out a giggle. “Why?”
“Because I’m shy.”
You let out a snort, and Mingyu pulls away to pout up at you. Your fingers gently brush over his lips, his nose, his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to hide again, but he doesn’t.
“I love you too,” you say softly, and his pout is gone. “I have for a really long time now.”
He surges forward to press another kiss to your mouth, and you can’t help but gasp into it. You can tell he’s satisfied with himself as he smiles, pulling back just to say, “Guess we’re both stupid then, huh?” 
You laugh, and you can almost feel the happiness radiating off of him as his arms fold around your back, pulling you back in and resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, your head softly falling to rest atop his.
“Oh my god,” you hear him mumble after a few moments of silence. You hum in question, and he moves to look up at you again. “I’m so excited to date you,” he says, his face full of genuine joy. You can feel yourself flush crimson as he continues, “I’m going to date you so hard. You can’t stop me. I’m going to hold your hand all the damn time, you have no idea.” 
“I can’t fucking wait, boyfriend.”
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A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the fifth of our Thirteen Valentines just in time for the holiday/Carat Day! Who better to celebrate with than Kim Mingyu himself? Special shoutout and dedication to the best girl @tae-bebe, who fell victim to the Mingyu enemies-to-lovers trope irl :) xx
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’m sorry!)
685 notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 9 months
Note
hiihihi can i request prompt 55 for megumi?? maybe reader texted him late at night and wanted him to sneak into her dorm after curfew? (maybeee gojo caught them a lil while later 👀 only doing rounds cause he was nosy and wanted to snoop lmaoo)
I’m an absolute sucker for Megumi, thank you for this request! It’s a little goofy, kinda got inspired by my dress up darling xD Hope you like it though, please let me know :) 55. "I'm tired. Don't make me angry."
Caught
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Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: Megumi knows it isn't allowed to visit you after curfew late at night, but the temptation is just too great. However, it is percisely this night that Gojo noticed the both of you and finds you in a rather unfavorable situation.
Warnings: language, mentions of smut, it's getting a little heated
Yo loser, you still awake? 🖤
Stop calling me that, yes I am (y/n).
Wanna come over? I’m bored as hell :(
Not my problem, remember curfew? I don’t want to get into trouble because of you.
You sign at your screen and roll your eyes in annoyance. God, Megumi is such a pain in the ass when it comes to following these stupid rules. You are mature enough to decide on your own when and who you want to visit. And how would they know? All the teachers are sound asleep anyway. Not even Gojo has the nerve to stay alert all night just to make sure that Megumi won’t visit you, right?
You just have to be silent. Shouldn’t be hard for you.
I’m tired. Don’t make me angry (y/n).
Pleeeaaaassseee Megumi, I’m begging on my knees :(
Megumi throws his phone to the side in irritation. Why do you always have to bother him this late at night? Of course his heart beats out of his chest just thinking about seeing you alone, but why does meeting you always bond with getting into trouble?
Still…maybe he is even able to hold you in his arms until the sun begins to rise. He’d ditch sleep a hundred times if it meant that you are by his side. As noiselessly as possible he sits up in bed and glances at Yuji who is breathing peacefully and is keeping his eyes closed. Megumi stands up, puts on his slippers and walks to the door. The girl’s corridor is down the hall, quite a stretch that cannot be explained if someone catches him there.  Why does he keep doing things like this for you?
It doesn’t matter. As if in trance his feet carry him to your door. His knuckles brush gently against the hard wood, eyes swaying around in alert.
Your heart skips a beat when you catch a glimpse of him in the dim moonlight. He really came! With a wide grin on your face you grab his hand and pull him into your room.
“Megumi!”, you cry out in excitement.
“Shh, you want everyone to know that I’m here? Maki is next door”, he hisses.
A glimpse of you is enough to make Megumi blush in an instant. You are covered by nothing but an oversized Shirt, your butt just barely covered by it. Are you only wearing underwear underneath this? He always knew and appreciated that you are comfortable around him, but the sight of your naked thighs does thinks to him and lets his mind wander. Why do you have to be so ridiculously attractive anyway?
“Come on, Maki sleeps like a rock and who cares about you being here anyway? Except for me, of course. You can’t even imagine how happy it makes me that you really came”, you shyly admit.
He looks as breathtaking as usual, maybe even better with his loose black sweater that shows off his tight muscles underneath so perfectly. Nothing ever happened between Megumi and you. You’re just friends that meet up late at night and lay in your bed until the sun rises, talking about everything and everyone. Megumi never touched you, never cuddled you, never intertwined his hand with yours. But oh how much you wished he did. Since you joined Jujutsu High alongside him, your feelings for the black-haired boy grew day by day. Now you can’t imagine life without him, your heart starts to dance whenever you see him.
“You know, I just really like your company”, he responses, scratching his head awkwardly and avoiding your gaze.
Your heart skips a beat, face lighting up by the sound of his sweet words. It is rare that he says such things to you, Megumi isn’t the vocal one anyway. Actually you are, but not when it comes to him. He is the only person that lets your outspoken and confident self get soft and all flustered, not even brave enough to give him a hug.
“Wanna lay in bed? You said you were tired.”
Not anymore. Your sight alone is better than the best sleep and wakes him up every time.     
“Sure.”
His gaze brushes over your moonlit features as you climb into bed, sliding against the wall and invitingly padding the sheets next to you. It makes him nervous to lay this close to you, knowing that you wear nothing but a shirt and that you are absolutely breathtaking beautiful. His heart almost beats out of his chest when the mattress gives in under his weight and your bare arm brushes against his skin while he lays down. Everything smells so good. He can immediately scent your sweet shampoo on the cushion under his head as well as the delicious fragrance of your body spray that hangs in the air and tingles in his nose. But the sight of your glistering eyes is what sends him over the edge.
“God, you are so beautiful.”
The words escape his mouth faster than he can react, hands covering his mouth in shock. Did he really just say that? Fuck, you must think he is really awkward, that all he thinks about are your good looks.
“I-I mean…You’re pretty smart as well…”, he stutters, face flushing immediately.
A cute little giggle escapes your mouth, cheeks heating up at his sudden outburst. Here and there a few compliments slipped out of Megumi’s mouth and left him all flustered. You adored the blush creeping up his face and the way he always scratched his head awkwardly in silence.
“(y/n), you need to be a little quieter. I don’t want Gojo-sensei to find us here”, he whispers, gaze creeping to the door.
“Don’t worry, he never did!”
Little did you know that Satoru just woke up from his light sleep and your giggling that echoed through the otherwise quiet halls of the dorms. He straightens himself and puts on a pair of sweatpants, a yawn escaping his lips. Why the hell is someone awake this late at night? Putting on his slippers, he leaves his room and roams around.
Another giggle. His eyes narrow. This sounds like you. Why are you giggling? Maybe someone is with you. Gojo doesn’t waste any more time and traces into the girl’s corridor. The ruffling, giggles and muffled voices grow louder as he moves towards your door. That other voice, it sounds so familiar…His eyes widen in surprise. Is that Megumi? What are you doing in there, after curfew alone in your room late at night? Fuck, he didn’t prepare Megumi for any for this. Does he know how this works? Is he using protection? Gojo’s pace picks up in an instant, panic mode completely activated.
“(y/n) and Megumi-chan, I know you’re in there. Get dressed within the next ten seconds”, he announces.
Your eyes widen in pure horror. Fuck, Gojo is here. Why the hell is Gojo here? He never caught you over the span of many months. Why today? Why when Megumi’s arms are this close to you, ready to hug you tightly?
“I told you!”, Megumi hisses through gritted teeth, panic written on his face.
“I’ll lock the door”, you proclaim with determination and lift yourself up.
This will give Megumi enough time to hide somewhere. You frantically swing your leg over his body, almost losing balance on the soft mattress underneath and your body tangled within the blanket in your rush.
“Fuck”, you mutter and search for hold, hands landing on his chest.
Instinctively, his hands grab your hips tightly just in time before you fall onto the ground.
Time stands still, your eyes stare right into Megumi’s ones. You’re sitting on top of him, thighs pressed against his with his big hands resting against your hips, squeezing them. You can feel something twitching underneath you, Megumi’s heartbeat bangs against your hands. Oh god. Is this really happening? All you can do is hold your breath and stare at him, every cell of your body refusing to move.
You sit on top of Megumi Fushiguro.
His hands grab your hips.
You know exactly what is moving beneath you.
“We didn’t even talk about this Megumi-chan, get back into yo- OH MY GODNESS.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gojo entered the room, gaping at the both of you with his mouth wide open and completely frozen in his tracks.
“I-It’s not what it l-looks like…I-I promise!”, you stutter, full panic mode activated.
You stumble off him, body swaying back and forth. Did you really just sit on Megumi? With Gojo catching you mid-action?
Megumi hectically covers his lower body with a blanket, face dripping in sweat, embarrassment and heat. You just sat on him. He got hard and you probably noticed. Gojo saw all of this. He doesn’t know what to think or say anymore, mind completely occupied by what just happened. Did you really sit on him?
“Listen kids, I don’t care about curfew or anything, but please make sure to use protection and be…y’know…quiet.”
Even Gojo stumbles over his words at this point, avoiding gazing at your poorly dressed figure.
“We didn’t do anything. It just looked strange”, Megumi finally speaks out.
You want to be swallowed by the ground and hide in a tiny hole for the rest of your life. Your sensei thinks that you two got intimate. But not only that, it looked like he caught you mid-action. But more important than that…You sat on Megumi and he was very excited about that. Does that mean that he…likes you?
“Sure. Listen, let’s talk about this tomorrow or even better, never again. Just make sure to be quiet…Ehm, have a nice night I guess.”
And with that, Gojo closes the door behind him, leaving the both of you with his fast steps echoing down the hall.
Silence fills the room, you don’t dare to look at Megumi.
“Maybe…You wanna cuddle for a bit? Doesn’t make any difference anymore I guess.”
Your heart skips a beat. Did this words really just left his mouth, the mouth of Megumi Fushiguro, the boy who never even tried to put an arm around you? This night truly just keeps getting crazier.
“Aren’t you worried about what Gojo-sensei thinks?”, you question, face still hot in embarrassment.
“I’ll talk to him in the morning. We don’t have to if yo-“
“No”, you interrupt him immediately.
“I would love to lay in your arms.”
And that’s what you did. His warm arms welcomed and held you tight through the rest of this eventful night, heart still racing uncontrollably.
“I think I like you more than a friend”, you admit into silence, face buried against his chest.
“Me too.”
“Yeah, I noticed that”, you remark before you can stop yourself.
Megumi pushes you off his chest, face red as a tomato almost instantly.
“Can we please just stop talking about that, (y/n)?”
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