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#why the hell not two houses is my question...
kazenomegaminowanpisu · 12 hours
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JJK boys reaction when their daughter brings their boyfriend to their house
Warning:Over protective father's, some words
Feat: Itadori, Fushiguro, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami
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Itadori
—He will greet his daughter's boyfriend happily. "Have a sit" he said. His daughter told him about everything. How did they meet, and how did she fall in love with her boyfriend? Itadori was listening happily to her story, but not until she left and grabbed something from the kitchen. "You," he said as he looked at the boyfriend with a fierce look and started to turn into a bit of a Sukuna. "Don't you dare! Hurt her!" He said as he was pointing his index finger to the boyfriend. "I've killed lots of curses before, don't make me do it again." His scary face vanished when his daughter arrived with a coffee for him and for her boyfriend.
Fushiguro
—"ah, dad? "He will give that guy the meanest look ever. He will pull his daughter's arm closer to him. "Why don't you come in?" he said with his dead serious look. The boyfriend comes inside and sits on the couch, as did Fushiguro. "Sweetie, go grab some food in the kitchen." His daughter walks away and goes over to the kitchen. "Do you really love my daughter? "He said as he crossed his arms. The boyfriend slowly nodded his head. He was sweating a lot. Fushiguro grabbed his collar and looked at him dead in the eye. "If my daughter cries because of you! You'll be waking up in hell." When his daughter came back, she saw her boyfriend trembling.
Gojo
—"This is it?" He said as he was laughing so hard. His daughter rolled her eyes. "Dad" Gojo was still laughing, but when her daughter left, his face became serious. "I don't know what you feed my daughter to like you, but if my daughter wastes a single drop of tears because of you!" He then took off his glasses and showed his beautiful eyes. "These eyes will be the last thing you will see," he said with a creepy smile spread on his face. "Yes sir!!" 
Geto
—"Come on in," he said. The two of them sat down on the couch, facing each other. "Hey honey, why don't you go and make some of daddies favorite tea?" his daughter stood up, smiling before leaving. "Isn't she pretty like her mother?" the boyfriend nodded his head. "Believe me, I will kill someone that makes my princess cry." he then slowly looked back at the boyfriend. "Would you do the same? "He said as he was looking at him (like he was going to kill him for sure). "Yes, sir," he said. His daughter came back with 3 cups of tea. Her boyfriend might need it.
Toji
—"And you are? "His daughter told him about everything. "Oh, your that scumbag," his daughter looked at him with an annoyed face. Toji looked at the boyfriend of her daughter before smiling. "I'm just kidding," he said, then pulled his daughter inside the house. "My daughter is kind and beautiful," he said with a smile on his face. "And I don't need a guy like you," he said with a serious face. "Not a single chance," he then slammed the door on her daughter's boyfriend. 
Nanami
—"What kind of work do you have? "He will start asking some questions like a truly strict parent. "I am a part-timer at a convenience store." He will look at his daughter's boyfriend. "Do you still make some time for her? "The boyfriend nodded his head. "Dad, I guess that's enough? "His daughter said, "No! I need a man who can take care of my one and only daughter, a man! Who can make her happy?" his daughter hugged him tight. "I know dad," Nanami said, then raised his middle finger towards his daughters boyfriend.
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jealousjersey · 3 days
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₊࿔*:・୧”too sweet”₊˚࿔*:・୧
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pairing // mike schmidt x gn!reader fluff
mentions // purely fluff just some nice and sweet content, pet names, reader is overwhelmed and stressed with everything and mike uplifts you, y/n isn’t mentioned, reader in college, reader and mike are in a situationship, mentions of being cheated on by past shitty gender unspecified partner
1.4k wc
tags // mike schmidt x reader fluff, purely fluff fic, pet names, slight angst
authors note // yes this is inspired by too sweet by hozier i’ve played it 18 times today (still listening to it) also per request (ty anon) fluff
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school is kicking your ass. the lectures are too long and not informative at all, although you’ve had exams all week, they never seem to contain the information you’re supposedly learning.
you don’t even live on campus so you constantly feel like you’re missing out on important events and information. it’s truly exhausting.
that is until you get home, you’ve been in a situationship with this security guard worker, mike. you’ve talked and had dates, even had sex a few times but it doesn’t suffice you. you were made to be a lover, but right now you’re just a piece of ass. you want mike to love you, well, right now it feels more than a need. you want to finally receive the love that you give.
once your classes are done, you leave campus. taking the subway back to your apartment, luckily you don’t live too far, but not close enough to walk. and instead of wasting gas on driving to and from school, so why not take the safer option and just take the train?
as you arrive at your apartment, you finally get to lay down on your bed. you feel a tear fall from your eyes but you’re not sure why. today wasn’t too bad…but your body’s reaction is telling you different. you check the time and wait-
it’s the 2 year anniversary of your ex cheating on you, well atleast it’s the anniversary of the day you found out. you check the date and you get flashbacks, flashbacks to you coming to surprise them at their house for your 1 year together.
you arrive with tickets to some indie concert in hand. but instead you were practically hit in the face with realization as you saw her. she looked…perfect. you still wonder how they ended up with her. but let’s face it, you knew there was signs. but you chose to ignore them.
as of now, you’re laying face down on your bed, basically crying at this point. your breath hitches as you just lay there, helpless. until suddenly
knock knock
“hey? anyone here?” you hear a familiar voice enter your house. it’s mike schmidt, the man you’ve been talking to for a few months. wait a second-
“how did you get in?” you question. you thought you locked the door but apparently not.
“oh, the door was halfway open. wanted to check to see if you were being robbed” he says as he gets a good look at you “shit are you okay?” he asks worried, staring at your puffy face, your swollen eyes as tears leak from them.
his worry makes you feel better. you’ve waited on somebody to actually care about how you were, not just ask without remorse in their eyes. but mike actually cares, and it feels good. it feels like he gives you a little sliver of comfort.
“yeah, i’m fine…schools kicking my ass and-” you cut yourself off, he’s just a fling, why does he get to know your personal problems? but something inside you just tells you to come clean. “2 years ago today i went through hell with my ex. he cheated and things went…down from there you could say.” you open up, not wanting to share anything that could bring back more deep memories- maybe mentioning the abuse would be too far.
“oh baby, i’m sorry. you need me here with you? i can get take out and we can watch one of your weird cartoons” he says. you chuckle. does he mean anime? you don’t even watch it that much, maybe he’s basing his suspicions on the death slayer poster in your room that you got because it looked cool. i mean, you only watched a episode or two. it might make you a poser but it looks good in your room so what’s the harm?
“yeah, take out sounds great. and we can just watch a movie or something.” you smile at his request, your eyes still puffy. mike notices this and sits next to you on your bed, bringing a hand to your cheek as he gently brushes a thumb over your eye bags, taking in the darkness.
“i’m gonna be right back, you want take out chinese food?” he asks with a smile as he presses a kiss onto your cheek. you slightly nod.
“gotta use your words baby” he teases you. “yes, chinese food is perfect” you smile “amazing, i’ll be back in 30. don’t fall asleep” he says as he points a finger in your direction and smiles softly
30 minutes pass, you just stay in your bed until he arrives, he walks in without knocking. “baby, i’m here” he yells, arms full with bags of chinese food. god, how much did he get?
you silently laugh to yourself at the site: mike with both hands carrying giant take out bags that say “thank you” with a smile face, his keys on his mouth and his pinky closing the door. it’s…really funny to be honest.
you snap out of your daze and run to help him, taking the bags out his hands and placing them on your kitchen island. you see him huff out a short breath, taking the keys out of his mouth and hanging them on the key holder.
you place a short kiss on his lips “thank you love” you say. a blush creeps onto his face. he wonders why he’s feeling so intense at your small gesture, i mean it’s not like you two are official….
you two get cuddled up on the couch together. he always said your couch is weird, two seats with a middle compartment in the center, dividing the chairs. he says it’s not ideal for cuddling but you make it work, the chairs aren’t small per say, but you can both fit on k it with ease, kicking up the leg so you can both lay comfortably.
you put on some movie that was recommended through the roku app. it doesn’t matter what movie it was, it just matters that you had mike with you.
soon enough he’s yawning, the mint aroma coming from his mouth isn’t bad. it’s kinda nice. before he could close his mouth fully you kiss him gently, wanting more of that mint taste. he returns the kiss, using the same pace you started.
as you let go, you ask the dreaded question. “do you want to be with me? romantically?” he stops and freezes before speaking. “honey, you’re too good for me- i..i’m not the best person. you’re full of love, i don’t want you to waste it on me, you’re too sweet for me.” he says. you look confused, you know you want to love him. why isn’t he accepting?
“but i want to be with you. i want to love you, and if im being honest i think i kind of already do.” you say after a moment.
“you…really?” he looks confused, almost baffled by your statement. do you really want to love him? like fully and truly?
“god yes mike, I try not to call but there’s some days that i really, really want to. i want to hear your voice, i want to hear you laugh. hell, i even want to smell your cologne. but i stop myself because i know you want something casual.” you blurt out.
“who said i wanted casual? baby i was waiting for you to say that. i think ive been in love with you since we first started talking. it sounds cheesy i know, but i really do.” he responds, making your heart flutter for a moment as you blink, suddenly feeling his breath against your ear.
“i only want you” he whispers, putting emphasis on only. immediately you blush more than ever in his presence. “really?” you can’t help but whisper back. is this really happening? are you about to have a boyfriend?
“really. you are the only person i ever want to be with. promise” he says as he puts his pinky out, asking for yours. sealing it with a pinky promise. he knows you’re serious about those so him doing this for you means a lot.
“you’re the only person i want to be with mike, has been that way since i think i first spoke to you. were so dumb” you laugh.
“yeah but we’re dumb together” he chuckles back as he holds you closer to him.
“so….are we dating or what?” you ask, popping your lips after “so”.
“let me ask you” he fixes his messy hair and uses a takeout napkin as a tie around his neck. “would you like to date me” he says sincerely, still a hint of laughing under his voice.
“fuck it, sure” you laugh as you bury yourself into his neck.
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ragnarokhound · 2 days
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((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))
“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞
From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa
anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)
Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence
15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”
When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed. 
Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.
He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay? 
But, uh. Let’s back up a little.
Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.
He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air. 
Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.
So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.
With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.
"What's going on here?"
The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.
"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.
“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.
The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.
“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”
“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”
Tim stops in his tracks.
“Forty-eight—?”
“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”
Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive. 
Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front. 
Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.
It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.
Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—
And then Tim thinks about the call.
The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later. 
He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.
“Today,” he repeats.
She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”
"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."
He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.
Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.
Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.
Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.
He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.
As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.
“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”
The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.
“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”
“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.
“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”
“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.
“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”
“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”
The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape. 
He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.
He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.
By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.
“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”
He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this. 
Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.
Fuck it.
He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.
Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’—  which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.
Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.
He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.
Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—
And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.
“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”
He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.
Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.
See, here’s the thing.
The thing is, he has options.
He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down). 
He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.
And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.
No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.
With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:
“Hand over your wallet!”
He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.
Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.
Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.
The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.
“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”
The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.
“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”
The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”
Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight. 
His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.
“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”
“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.
Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.
“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”
Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.
“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.
Tim blinks. So do the muggers. 
He knows that voice.
“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.
Everything happens pretty quickly after that.
Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.
Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes— 
Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.
Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop. 
So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.
Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.
“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”
Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.
Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”
Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.
Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.
“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.
Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.
“Yeah. Had.” 
So much for the League, Tim muses.
Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror. 
“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”
Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”
Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.
“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed. 
God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way. 
“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”
They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.
“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”
“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”
Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”
“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”
“Again. Fucking ew.”
“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”
“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”
Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”
Jason thwacks him upside the head.
“Ow! What the fuck?”
“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”
“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”
“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.
Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”
Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.
“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”
Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.
Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.
“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”
Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”
Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.
“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”
“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”
The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.
Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.
“Jason—!”
“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”
“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”
“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”
“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.
“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”
The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.
“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”
Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.
Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.
“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”
“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.
“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.” 
Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.
“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”
He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.
And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.
He knows, okay?
“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”
“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”
Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.
And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to. 
But he still means it.
“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”
The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.
“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.
The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.
But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.
Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”
Jason’s grin is electric. 
He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.
Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—
—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.
“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”
“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.
“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”
Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch. 
The kiss is— bad. At first. 
Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.
Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.
Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.
“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.
“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”
Tim is already asleep.
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dazai-fan-page · 8 hours
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i remember when i was 12 or so, I went for a walk by my house and ended up talking to these two artists, while we were talking one of them was drawing this flag on the ground and then they wrote free palestine under it. i asked what that was, where that was, why they werent free already and they answered all my questions. then after we finished talking i left and i forgot about that conversation for a few years.
ive been remembering it a lot lately bc i was able to just walj home and forget, a shit load kids my age over there dont have a home to go back to and they sure as hell cant forget as easily as i did.
my point here is that this is far from new and this isnt the first its being brought up, we just forgot or ignored it before. a man set himself on fire to get our attention and people are still looking away. you dont have to see the bodies, just at least reblog the donation links and information screenshots.
now look its dazai isnt he great
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lucidlymelanated · 3 days
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This is long and drawn out so this might be a skip post for some of y'all.
There's a conversation on Twitter happening after a video of a woman being followed to her car after saying no has been posted. It just makes me sad how even after the conversations about consent and saying no, that it still happens so damn often. It also reminds me of a time where walking and riding public transport was the only option for me and it was scary af. No literally didn't mean no to anyone. Silence angered them and walking away would get you chased sometimes. When I was 10, I had a classmate who would follow me home just to grope me almost everyday. I went home one day and told my grandma that It was happening and I didn't like it and he wouldn't listen and she told me that if no did not work, you slap the hell out of him. When I was 15, I walked to a friend's house and had not one but two cars stop and then follow me and talk to me through the car windows. It wasn't enough to say I was 15 or that I had no phone or couldn't be friends. It happened so often that I had to start going to their houses when they knew their parents could pick me up because I was scared. Around 16, I was cornered in a store that I went to almost everyday. Literally had to drop my things and run out. Wouldn't go in that store alone after that. Got my first job and there was a 2 hr commute where I had to walk and take the bus and then walk again. I'd get bothered all the time. No thank you was not enough. Thought I found some resolve when one of the bus drivers told a man to stop bothering me. Nope, he was a creep too. He was a gentleman first and then came questions about what my partner and I do at home. There's a hotdog spot in my old neighborhood that I won't even go in anymore because the men fix your food and try to talk to you in there. Rings don't matter. People being with you don't matter. No doesn't matter. The place has a reputation for it. One time, my FIL went in there with me and seen it for himself. These experiences made me scared but in a way that I had to hide. I had to be tough and quick on my toes because I did not know what would happen next. It makes me sad whenever I hear or see stories like this or worse because I just don't understand why there's such an issue when we say NO...
(Disclaimer - I'm by no means saying this is ALL MEN. I know that it is not because I would not have a partner otherwise. This is just MY truth so please save the "You're putting us all in the same box" argument BECAUSE I AM NOT. READING IS FUNDAMENTAL.)
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thecraftgremlin · 2 months
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Yes I’m already working on a long and complex dialogue shot, but consider:
I now have an OC who could plausibly sound like Brian David Gilbert in the Buy My Bed video and I must I simply must.
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westernsunshine · 3 months
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Swear to god if I was actually a proper reddit user I’d be posting the stupidest AITA posts
#so my friend rang me asking if i could print something out. mind you i got her message saying that and i was responding and she literally#didn’t even give me one minute to answer. so i answer the phone already annoyed because it’s like.. where the hell is the fire#i’m trying to eat my tea here and you make me leap out of my seat to answer the landline because you can’t wait 30 seconds for a reply. why#so i answer the phone and she sounds like she’s been crying so i’m like ‘god what’s this thing she needs me to print… a ransom note??’#why was it a template for a gingerbread house. so i’m like ‘yes of course i’ll print it. are you okay though’ she says she has an upper#respiratory infection. i’m like ‘that’s fucked up. i’ll print your thing but are you sure you should be cooking for people’#she’s like ‘thank you so so much ellen i’m so sorry for putting you out; i’ll pay you’ and like. here’s where i will freely admit that i was#being a dick. but i have told her a million times before to STOP offering me money for random stupid favours like printing literally one (1)#document for her or giving her kid a bag of crisps to keep her quiet or something. it drives me crazy when she does this because it makes me#feel like she’s trying to imply that i’m that much of a frugal penny pincher that i’m going to sit here and calculate how much a piece of#paper and a millilitre of ink costs me and charge for that miniscule sum. or like i view our friendship as transactional or something#which could not be further from the truth. like bitch i’d give you a kidney no questions asked. stop offering me money to print your shit#and she’s soooo apologetic over it too; she’s like apologising for being alive. and the self flagellating bullshit drives me CRAZY#like it does not cause me any trouble whatsoever to open one singular application on my phone and click two buttons. my printer is plugged#in 24-7 because that’s how it tells HP when it’s out of ink and to send more. a service i pay 99p a month for mind you. i don’t notice#i don’t care. most of the time i make my granddad buy my printer paper because he shows up here unannounced asking me to print dozens#of flyers from his club and doesn’t otherwise offer payment so i’m like ‘well can you buy some paper since i now have none’#so what i said to her was ‘if you offer me money one more time i’m never printing anything for you again’ which i think bamboozled her#i was like ‘i’m printing it now. pick it up whenever you want just don’t offer money’ she’s like ‘but i was just thinking—‘#‘DON’T FUCKING THINK’ yeah that was an overreaction possibly. but i was just like. i don’t want to hear your justification for why you want#to give me 5p or something for printing your stupid gingerbread house template. don’t tell me it. i disagree with it#if you want to pay for your shit to be printed that fucking badly you can go to the library#so anyway she messaged me saying ‘i’m not coming over because i don’t want to argue’ i didn’t reply but i was literally just sitting there#thinking… we don’t have to argue. i’ve told you my terms. just don’t offer me money for stupid little favours and you won’t hear an argument#from me. that’s all#i honestly feel like she’s just offering me money because she knows it makes me mad. she loves annoying me. well she’s succeeded#AITA? yes but also for the love of godddd will you just LISTEN to me. if it’s a joke it’s not fucking funny at this point it’s just annoying#personal#rant
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ff2-soda-pop · 2 years
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love how the owl house confirmed the belos is philip theory and you’d think i wouldnt instantly have more things im confused about. you’d also be horribly wrong dfghjhgf
#LIKE-?? since its confirmed officially that they're The Same that made me think about 'well shit that means hes been there since the 1600s'#but then i remembered how toh is set in like modern day so im just-?? how is he still alive i dont- human lifespans are Not that long so#like how has he not died somehow someway. and then i was like 'maybe the palisman thing is whats been keeping him alive??' since we see him#doing that shit even back when lilith and luz went back in time and shit but then its like- how would that keep him alive?? and now im just-#they had that thing w/ the palismen spirit thingy in his mindscape but like. tbh im so confused about that like?? is it like a curse thing??#like we can figure that whatever it is belos is doing is why that thing exists but like. that doesnt explain the how of it and it sure as#hell doesnt explain WHY he does that. like sure i get him wanting to destroy them given his shit about magic especially 'wild' magic but#i'd think if he *just* wanted to destroy them he wouldnt do the... thing he does??? and now im just- why? does he do that???#like ik his motivations are basically just 'i am an evil terrible shitty person' which like- that checks out that makes sense! but like#im still confused about these other things now. like now that the Big questions of like- 'who actually is belos' and 'what are his exact#motives and goals' have been cleared up its like my brain instantly went 'HEY WHAT ABOUT THESE OTHER CONFUSING THINGS THIS EPISODE DIDNT#EXPLAIN' 'cause like- i dont have any real lingering questions with anything else from this episode i think it was all explained very#clearly (but also. what exactly is a grimwalker. like what exactly Is that). ...except these two things relating to belos#and like im Sure they'll clarify it somehow at some point but for now im just- ??? how is this happening and what is happening in relation#to these very specific things??#like unless i just completely missed something i dunno sdfghgfds#the owl house spoilers#sorry if this is incoherent also im no good at putting thoughts into words DFGHGFD
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tonycries · 3 days
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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.
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Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.
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Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h. 
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 
You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 
“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 
“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”
You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 
And then it’s all black. 
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 
“It’s al-”
 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.
You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 
At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
Nahhh. 
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 
You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”
“Oh, it’s on now.”
“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”
“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit. 
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 
Or maybe…
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 
Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”
“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 
All for him. 
It’s too much. 
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 
Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 
“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”
“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 
You. 
And then he’s cumming. 
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 
Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didn’t mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 
It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 
It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 
It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture. 
“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 
“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 
“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”
It was like something snapped.
Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
“Kiss me, you fool.”
And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 
“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 
“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”
“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 
“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 
He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 
Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do. 
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 
“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 
And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 
“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”
Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 
Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”
“Feels perfect.”
But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 
You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 
“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 
“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 
“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”
The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?
“Wha-”
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 
“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 
Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”
And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 
“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”
“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”
You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”
You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”
“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”
“Choso, just kiss me.”
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 
“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”
“Nope.”
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 
“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 
Except maybe those. 
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
“Well, we still have time so how about-”
A distant click!
“Honey, we’re home~!”
Shit.
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A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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tootiecakes234 · 3 months
Text
Katsuki “asking” you to move in with him
You were almost back home when you got a call from your boyfriend. He didn’t even greet you when you answered.
“Where are you?”, he grunted into his phone.
“Well hello to you too handsome.”
“Yea, yea… where are you? I’m at your place to pick you up and ya ain’t here.”
“Heh… maybe if I knew you were coming over I would’ve been home. Why didn’t you text me and let me know. I don’t have any clothes packed or anything.”you informed him.
He does this all the time. Just comes over to your house and tells you that you’re coming back to his place with him. So very demanding.
“You have a dresser full of clothes in my room, your toothbrush and all your toiletries… what do ya need to pack?”
“Ya got me there. I’m almost there. I got stuff to drop off then we can leave.”
When you get through the door Katsuki is digging through your fridge.
“Why do you never have groceries in your house?” He questions you.
“Because I’m never here sir. They always go bad because I have a needy boyfriend that wants me at his house 25/8.”, the sarcasm drips out of your voice as you head to drop off the things you had bought.
“ Tch…. Needy. Please. You’re the one always complaining that we don’t spend enough time together.” He states.
“This is true.” You shrug your shoulders. “Anyways I’m ready. Let’s hit it.
“It’d be easier to spend time together if you just moved in with me” he mentions all causally as you guys head out to his car. You pause a little and look at him a little baffled.
You and Katsuki had been dating for about 8 months but you didn’t know he felt that seriously. Maybe he was just joking, so you shake it off and continue on like he didn’t say it.
The next thing you know you’re at his house getting ready for bed.
Kats comes to the bathroom and leans against the counter while you’re in the middle of doing your skincare.
“Do you wanna say something?” You ask because he’s just sitting there staring at you.
“Do you not wanna live with me cuz you could’ve just said that when I mentioned it earlier instead of fucking ignoring me.” He asked it harshly but you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. Like he didn’t want to bring it up but it was bugging him bad enough that he had to say something.
“I- uh…”
Apparently you were taking too long.
“Just forget it.” His eyes fell from yours and he started moving away towards his room. “Are we watching the next episode of that stupid show of yours? If not-“
“I didn’t think you were serious Kat.” And you reach your hand out to catch his arm before he can leave.
“I thought you were joking or something. Also it wasn’t a question so I didn’t know you were waiting on an answer babe.” There’s a small grin pulling at your lips when he looks at you again.
“Why the hell would I joke about that? And it was obviously a question…. So answer it dammit.”, his brows were furrowed and he was scowling a little.
Poor nervous boy.
You reach both of your arms up and wrap them around his neck. Then you lean in and press a kiss to his pouting lips.
“Katsuki Bakugo *kiss* I would absolutely *kiss* love *kiss* to move in with you *kiss*”
His arms have wrapped around you waist pulling you tighter to him.
“About damn time. I’ll have people come over to pack your shit tomorrow.” And this time he leans in to give his a deep kiss. His tongue reaching out to invade your mouth.
When he pulls back you’re all twinkle eyed and dopey in love. It takes a second for reality to catch up to you.
“Tomorrow?? Kats I have a lease and I don’t want movers breaking and throwing my things around. I’m gonna need at least a week or two. And I’m gonna have to pay-“
“I’ll pay for the lease break and you have til this weekend. If ya don’t want movers I’ll get our shitty friends to come over and help. Ain’t waiting no two weeks.”
“This weekend? It’s Wednesday. That only gives me 2 days!” You reason.
“Yea and I don’t wanna give you that so count your blessings princess. And I’m done arguing about this.” He sweeps you up bridal style and carries you to bed. Then He dumps you down onto it.
“Now how about we start christening your new place,” he says while hovering over you with a sexy smirk playing at his lips.
Hmmmm….. and just like that you forgot why it was you weren’t moving in tomorrow. He could be so very convincing when he wanted to be.
Katsuki Masterlist
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paperultra · 7 months
Text
back of house.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,113 words Warnings: Mild swearing
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If it weren’t for his principles regarding women, you’re fairly certain Sanji would’ve throttled and strung you up to dry by now.
“I … I’m impressed, sweetheart,” he says with a bright smile, though under the swinging lights of the kitchen it seems more out of pain than pleasure. “You managed to burn water.”
Your cheeks flame as you peer into the blackened pot with him, all traces of the water you’d been tasked with boiling completely gone. Vanished. You have no idea how or why.
“I’m sorry, Sanji.”
“No need to apologize. Everybody makes mistakes –”
“Sanji!” you hear Zeff before you see him round the corner. “Why the hell do I smell something burning in my kitchen?”
“None of your business, old man,” Sanji snaps immediately, murmuring a quiet excuse me, dear to you before taking the pot by the handle and heading to the sink. He twists the faucet open and running water roars like thunder in your ears as he thrusts the pot underneath. “I have it under control.”
“Under control, eh?" Zeff says. He suddenly turns his squinted gaze upon you, and you shrivel. “This your doing, missy?”
“I –”
“Leave her alone,” Sanji interrupts. “I didn’t give clear enough instructions. It was my fault.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that.” Eyeing your guilty and defeated figure next to the stove, Zeff shakes his head with a sigh and points you to the door. “[Y/n], go out and wait tables for the rest of your shift.”
Immediately, you make a move to remove your apron. “Oka –”
Sanji makes a noise of dissent and turns the faucet off. “Wait tables? She can still chop the vegetables and help me plate.”
“You’ll do that yourself. Front of house needs the extra person, anyway.”
“I’m her mentor.”
“And I’m the damn boss.”
The rest of the staff roll their eyes and carry on while the two men argue in the middle of the kitchen. You swallow and take your apron off, balling it up in your hands. This isn’t the first time they’ve butted heads over your incompetence, and watching them now cuts at your last shred of dignity.
Clearing your throat, you grimace when Sanji’s head whips around to look at you.
“Zeff’s right,” you tell him. “Dinner rush is coming up soon and I’ll just be in the way, anyway.”
Zeff grunts with satisfaction.
The expression on Sanji’s face reminds you of a kicked puppy. “But …” he begins to protest.
“Oi, you heard what she said. Get back to work! We have customers waiting!”
Sanji blusters about before heading back to his station, casting you one final, forlorn look as he does so. You imagine that your own face looks just the same when you turn to leave.
You take orders and serve customers for the remainder of the day, as promised, and help with cleanup after closing time. And then, long after the sun’s dipped below the horizon, Sanji joins you on the upper deck with a steaming bowl of seafood fried rice.
“For the madam,” he says with a smile, offering you the bowl.
You accept it silently and take a bite as he sits down next to you. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach. You’ve never known a home quite like Sanji’s cooking.
His eyes remain fixed on you as you eat all of the rice, scraping the bowl for every last grain and setting it down beside you once you’re finished.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. I figured it would cheer you up.”
“It did.”
It did, and yet, your lips tremble and your throat closes up. You clench your hands into fists in your lap.
Sanji’s hand immediately presses your shoulder as you sniffle. “Are you alright?” he questions worriedly.
(His attentiveness strikes you like a hot iron sometimes, even now.)
“Why haven’t you given up on me yet?” you whisper.
His brow furrows. As if it’s obvious, he answers, “You want to be a cook. A lady’s wish is my command.” Sanji pauses. “And I can’t call myself the greatest cook in the East Blue if I can’t teach others to be great cooks as well.”
“I think you’d be the greatest regardless.”
You glance at him through watery eyes in time to see his face flush a deep red. He looks away hastily, chuckling with feigned modesty. “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me.”
Your shoulders lift in a shrug as you look back down at your hands. You reach up to blot away your tears.
How could you not think the world of Sanji? Or the world of anyone at the Baratie, for that matter? When you were kicked off the merchant ship you’d stowed away on two years ago, you had been sure that you’d be banned from setting foot in such a fine-looking restaurant. Years of scorn and slammed doors had not given you the chance to think otherwise.
But Sanji spotted you on the docks, called you madam like you really were one, cooked you a meal in the kitchen and talked to you. Zeff gave you a job and a bed of your own. The staff gave you a family.
“We’ll try again tomorrow. I’ll figure out something that’ll make everything click for you, and you’ll be a proper cook in no time.” Sanji leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and winks up at you. “I promise.”
As always, your heart skips a beat.
“Okay.”
Maybe, you realize suddenly, you don’t necessarily want to be a cook so much as you want to love the way Sanji does.
“That’s my girl.” Standing up, Sanji takes your empty bowl in one hand and offers the other for you to take. “Now, shall I walk the madam to her room, or does she wish to stay out on the deck for a while?”
You allow yourself to grin, considering. “The madam wishes to stay out here and …” you hesitate but then decide to soldier on, “and possibly chat with a dear friend for a few more minutes?”
Your pulse pounds in your ears.
Sanji’s eyes widen a bit. Then he blinks, and then he smiles, drawing his hand back and quickly sitting down next to you once more.
“A lady’s wish is my command,” he says.
He takes out a cigarette, making a quip about Patty while he lights it, and your combined laughter rings out across the Baratie. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach.
Indeed, this is home.
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animeshotsh · 2 months
Text
Family meeting | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader
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Summary: Lucifer wants you to meet Charlie, the only problem? He needs to go to the hotel.
PT2 Of This and a full one shot of this.
Warnings: Off Canon in terms of time | Mentions of past abuse | Cursing | Reader gets loved by everybody | Probably some OOC | SFW | Grammar mistakes |
Lucifer undertood, really, he knew Charlie was too worried about her Hotel to ever leave it alone. He also felt bad about asking her to just come home to meet you, after all he was not a present figure in her life.
"(Y/n) are you ready ?" Lucifer called you who went to him with a cancerberus plush on your hand and a backpack with some toys.
"Im!" You declared showing off your things, and letting out a smile. You were now dressed in the best quality clothes Lucifer could afford, he had to take a moment to snap a pic of you (again).
"Let not keep them waiting then" Lucifer said taking you and supporting you on his hip, his wings out.
"ARE WE GOING TO FLY THERE?" You screamed making the house shake, your hyped self could not be contained.
"Yes, what better way to travel?" Lucifer joked. The first time you two took a fly together Lucifer was distracted and ended up dropping you. His reaction time was fast so he was able to catch you, already making promises to never fly again with you but your laught stopped him, turns out you loved to fly and loved the adrenaline from falling. Lucifer found it strange but decided not to question it.
He later went to the internet to look for more information.
Once you two took fly everything felt at peace (and you two were in hell...). Demons and sinners could see their King, no one dared to mess with him. Some ignored him, others bowed and some even waved at you.
From the Sky, the city seemed beautiful in its own type of way. The fire from fights and the buildings falling apart...big neon adverstiments...
If you were honest you liked hell.
Lucifer felt your self become sleepy making him smile. This would usually happen, something about flying with him relaxed you. Maybe being with the king of hell and on top of that flying around the city made you feel Powerfull and protected, enough to make you dizzy. Closing your eyes you let the feel of the wind caress your skin as Lucifer's wings moved towards the Hotel.
~☆~☆~☆~
Charlie was not nervous, not at all!!
That was a lie. Charlie was so stressed over his dad coming to the hotel and with you no less. When he had called her and asked to meet up she had said she had too much work (and it was true) then after listening to how he wanted her to meet you and how you have been asking about her.
Her heart could not take it so she accepted, saying she would make the hotel the safest place for you.
"Husk, put the alcohol away, OH! And be sure to remove any broken glass" Charlie exclaimed getting the most are you for real look from Husk.
Any sharp object had been locked down, weapons hided away and they even took extra care of things that could fall over you.
"Angel, try to...keep the sex jokes as...."
"As good as a good suck in a alley corner after some Drugs?" Angel asked getting an annoyed look from Vaggie. "Fine, I get it. Im not a monster you know" he responded offended going for a drink only to get some appel juice from Husk.
"Princess rules" he simple said.
Vaggie was behind Charlie as she went on checking everything. This was worse than one Lucifer had first come, this was Lucifer and you. The New kid, the new lil relative of Charlie.
"And- and did we get Alastor to go out?" Charlie asked Vaggie knowing how him and his dad were not at good terms.
"Well..."
"Now my dear, why would you want me away?" Alastor asked appearing besides her. "Its because your dad its coming today? Dont worry the hotel wont suffer any type of damage" he promised bowing "or maybe a bit"
~☆~☆~☆~☆
The sound of the door being opened alerted everyone. Charlie was sweating as she saw her dad entering with a small kid on his arms. Puffy sheep skin and cat hears and tail could be seen but their face was pressed against Lucifer's chest.
"Charlie!! Its so good to see you again" Lucifer exclaimed getting closer. "Sorry, (Y/N) felt asleep when coming here" he explained looking down with a lovely father gaze at the kid.
"Oh...thats...thats fine!! We have made everything kids safe for the time (Y/N) is here" Charlie responded still stressed, however now seeing you in the flesh and not only by photos her dad would send her, her heart softened at your sleepy form.
"Well, not everything..." Lucifer let out a groul seeing the Radio Demon who stood with his usual smile.
"Greetings your majesty, I never expected to be seeing you again so soon, maybe grow a few inches instead of getting kids from the streets on your free time"
"Hahaha, oh at least kids like me" Lucifer responded going towards Alastor.
"Hahaha only because you are their size"
"Hahaha, or because I dont have that broken record voice"
"Hahaha, fuck you"
The small beef between them was enough to wake you up, looking up you first saw Lucifer's face. A very angry look then the look of another Demon, a redish one that looked like a deer.
"...are these your ears or hair?" You asked half sleep getting everyones attention.
~☆~☆~☆~☆
"Oh ignore him, we are here to meet with by daugther!!" Lucifer quickly turned around making you face Charlie. He carefully let you down on the ground and saw how you went to her.
Charlie went to your eye level, her heart beating fast. "Hello! Im Charlie, and welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!!" She cringed at her introduction, laughts from Angel and Husk could be hear at the back.
"Im (Y/N)! Are you my older sister?" You asked moving your head to the side taking her appearence, no doubt she was Lucifer's child, she had a different aura, something cheerful and good, something your insticts told you to reach for.
Charlie's mouth went dry, her eyes having now tears as she remember the story her father told her about you, about how you ended in hell. How unfair it was and how Heaven would not listen.
"Y-yes Im" she responded trying to content her tears then almost getting knocked off when you hugged her. Your soft hair rubbing against her cheeck.
"I always wanted a sister"
Vaggie had to look away to keep her emotions in check. She undertood the malice from heaven and was thankul you had ended in Lucifer's way. Her heart broke a bit seeing your small form hugging her gilfriend.
Heaven its damed she tought to herself.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
"And this is Angel Dust!" Charlie presented you the spider Demon who was looking down as he was thinking about someone else.
"Hello Kiddo" he ruffled your hair getting a laught from you.
"You have four arms?" You asked looking at Angel who showed them then picked you up
"You bet!! And do you know what form arms can do?"
Everyone was holding their breaths now.
"Lots of ticklets!!" He finally responded tickling you. Your laught and smile resonated in the hotel. Your cat hears moving from side to side as Angel tickled you with a small smile of his own.
~☆~☆~☆~
You pulled Angel around the hotel, telling different tales you have been reading from Lucifer's private collection. Angel just nodded at you, he took note of how your eyes would light up when you were talking about a favorite character or a special part of a story.
It melted his heart.
"I want juice" You suddendly said stopping and making Angel almost fall over you. Luckly he was able to catch his balance.
Juice? Angel thought then smirked looking at a very sober and pissed Husk.
"Here, this one makes the best drinks and im sure he has some juices for you" Angel said taking you towars Husk who was giving Angel a very do not dare look.
"Uhhh, he seems scary" you said softly looking at Husk while Angel seated you carefully.
"Scary? Pff he is just sober" Angel said getting a confused look from you.
"I mean-"
"What would you like kid?" Husk asked keeping his voice with no emotion. He had hear you said he looked scary and honestly, that was funny. By the fact that you had touched Alastor's hair and ears earlier and you got the radio Demon to almost break his cool.
Yeah not scared over the radio Demon but scared of him? You were something.
He passed you a juice with appels. You were quick to forget your fear as you sipped the drink looking at Husk. "I liken your wings"
Husk looked a bit suprised but soon relaxed giving you a easy smile.
"I like your horns...what are you?" He finally asked getting an annoyed look from Angel.
"Well...im not sure?" You responded now feeling shy.
"You are a sinner my Dear!" The voice of Alastor echoed as one of his shadows picked you up keeping you from touching his hair again.
"And who are you?" You asked back macking Alastor glitch, static forming around him but then going away.
"Im Alastor, the Radio Demon! I have a show, maybe you ever listen to it or you prefer these boxes..."
"You mean tvs?" Alastor nodded "I used to watch a bit during mornings but...my father hated when we did it he would scream at me and-" your voice broke making everyone look towards you Lucifer almost going for the Demon's neck.
"Oh you poor thing" Alastor said deep down (very deep) feeling bad. Memories of his own life coming to haunt him. "Then here!" He made a move and a old fashined radio appear "this radio hosts only my shows, and no one will be angry at you because you listen to it" He said smiling at you, his shadow still holding you and playing with your horns as Alastor watched Lucifer for a reaction.
"Uh...thank you Mister" You finally said getting a lick from the shadow itself.
"No problems Dear and if you ever need a New dad you know for who to look" He smirked at Lucifer.
"But Lucifer its my dad..." you responded, radio in your tiny hands "...could you be my uncle?" You asked innocently ignoring who you were talking to, one of the most powerfull Overlords in the circle.
Alastor moved his head his shadow getting you closer to him, he took a moment to examine your soul. So pure and so...so unlike him.
Alastor could be chained to someone, but right now the only one who could hold a leash on him was you.
"Of course Dear" he finally responded taking you from his shadow and to his arms.
"And can I play with your hair?"
"Hahaha, absolutly not"
Lucifer was being hold in the back by Charlie and Vaggie sending daggers to the Demon.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
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motherlvr · 10 months
Text
3+1 times Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader
SPOILERS FOR ATSV
read part 2 here!
3 times Miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did.
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: Instead of the radioactive spider biting Miles, it bit you. You turned into Brooklyn's one and only Spider-woman, while Miles turned into the prowler. Miles also helps you with Spanish.
Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of cursing, most definitely not canon, kind of slow-burn?, jealousy, morally gray reader, he's lowkey toxic, no smut, heated make-out session, im feasting on crumbs (his 2 minutes of screen time), this is not ATSV plot heavy, the whole prowler x spidey thing isn't really until the end (enemies to lovers)
A/N: for the sake of the plot, the reader doesn't fluently speak spanish, but can speak some. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since ATSV came out
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1.
Miles glares at you two from across the room, predominantly at the guy you're laughing with. Surely he's not that fucking funny. Miles thinks as jealousy spreads within the pit of his stomach like a forest fire. However, you don't seem to notice his stare burning holes through the guy you're speaking to. The same cannot be said for him, however. Miles makes eye contact with him and sends him one glare that immediately makes the poor guy cower with fear away from you.
"I uh...gotta go." The guy squeaks out to you, his voice cracking with terror as he runs away. You raise an eyebrow as you watch him run away. What the hell was that? You think.
Miles appears next to you within the next moment and says, "Hey, ma." he gives you a slight smirk and wraps his arm around your shoulders. That smirk made you weak in your knees, you almost kissed him right then and there. You should be given an award for your amount of self-restraint.
"Hey Miles, qué pasa?" You greet him with a smile that reaches your eyes. Miles' smirk drops and he furrows his eyebrows at you as he inquires. "Who was that guy?" "He's just a friend, why?" You raise an eyebrow and question back. "Don't worry about it, you like him?" His words catch you off guard. You pause for a moment and turn your head to him with a judgmental stare as you shake his arm off you and say, "Miles. What is this? 20 questions?" You deadpan and continue, "He's not important, alright?" Seemingly satisfied with your response, he drops the subject.
After school, Miles and you head to his house. You've been struggling in Spanish class. Spanish grammar might actually be the death of me, you think. Since Miles excels in Spanish due to primarily being raised by his mother, you asked him to tutor you, which he surprisingly agreed to.
It doesn't hurt that you get to spend more time with Miles, either. Something about him never fails to send butterflies straight to your stomach, maybe it's his intense stare that makes you weak in your knees, his accent that somehow makes him ten times more attractive, or- You cut your thoughts off. You felt guilty for feeling this way about Miles. You know you shouldn't. These feelings you harbor would only cause more harm than good. After all, the people you love always seem to be in danger.
After a couple of hours of pure torture, (Spanish grammar) Miles started to speak, "Escúchame, mami. I-"
Loud, blaring police sirens cut off his sentence. Thanks, Brooklyn. Pretending to get a message from your mother, you glance at your phone's screen and look at Miles with an apologetic expression, "Shit, sorry Miles but I gotta go. My mother wants me home. She said it was urgent. But we're still on for tomorrow right?" Miles raises a skeptical eyebrow but ultimately says, "Yea. It's 'Ight, princesa. See you tomorrow" his accent lacing his words. You get up to kiss his cheek and wave him goodbye. As normal friends do, you tell yourself. Shit. You shake the thoughts away before your overthinking completely undoes your brain.
You wait until you're at least a couple blocks away from his house before you reveal the spider suit underneath your clothing and pull your mask down your face. You thwip your webs and swing away to investigate what crime was scheming tonight in Brooklyn. Leaving Miles alone in his room to regret not telling you.
2.
Honestly, you weren't paying attention to whatever Miles was saying. Instead, you were just focusing on how attractive you found his accent. You'd suffer through two more years of Spanish just to hear his voice. In fact, during most of these tutoring lessons with Miles, you weren't paying attention to the actual lesson. It doesn't help that he keeps staring at you with those eyes of his. But behind that cold exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't outright admit it.
Miles' voice brought your attention back to the actual lesson, "Lo entiendes, princesa?" Miles asked you with a knowing smirk. You nodded your head immediately, trying to play it off. "Uhh, si." You said with a thumbs up, immediately regretting it. That was so nerdy. You shame yourself in your mind. You pretended to take notes, shamefully lowering your head down to your notebook.
While you were pretending to take notes, Miles broke the silence.
"So what's up with you and that guy from earlier?" "I told you, he's just a friend. Nothing is going on between us." Miles puts his hands up in his defense, "Alright, mami. It just didn't look like that with the way you were laughing at whatever he said. He's not Kevin Hart."
Way to completely ruin the mood. You dropped the pencil you were holding and stopped taking notes. Looking directly into his eyes, you said "Miles, I really don't know what your deal is." "You really wanna know what 'my deal is'? 'Ight. It's 'cause-"
Miles' phone beeps, interrupting him. He cursed in his mind, not being able to tell you how he felt yet again. He glances down at his screen. "Ay princesa," Miles spoke up, his words never failing to make your face go warm. His nicknames for you weren't new by any means, but they still made your heart flutter. He continued, "Uncle Aaron needs me, I gotta roll. He said it's an emergency. Don't think I'm trying to cut this short. You're still my girl, alright?" He started to leave when he turned around suddenly. He walked over to you and turned your head to him with his hand, kissing your forehead. "Hasta luego, mami." He left the room, leaving you alone in his room with only your thoughts swirling around your mind. You were sure you were about to have a heart attack. His girl? The kiss? Miles was acting oddly affectionate. And what's with him practically using the same excuse I used? It's not like he's the crime-fighting vigilante here. You rolled your eyes.
You didn't know what Miles and his uncle were so busy doing, but you had a feeling that it wasn't very morally right. That would explain how ambiguous he's been lately. More often than not, he's had to leave in the middle of tutoring to tend to whatever his Uncle needed him for. But you can't entirely blame him, you have secrets you've been hiding from him too.
You packed up your things and left his room. "Chao, Mrs. Morales. Thank you for letting me into your home!" You said to Miles' mother while leaving. "Of course, you're always welcome here." She replied to you with a warm smile. That woman was a true saint.
3.
If you had to spend any more time confined in a room alone with Miles and just your emotions, you were sure you'd fucking lose it. By losing it, I mean grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and kissing him senseless. But you were afraid. Afraid that he would take your heart right out of your chest to shatter it and then leave you alone to pick up the pieces. So, you came up with a little white lie to get out of tutoring today.
"Is it alright with you if I skip tutoring today? My mother is sick and I have to take care of her." The lie slipped off your tongue like butter.
"Nah that's cool." He shrugs. Huh. He let me off that easy? You were two seconds away from having the dreaded 'What are we?' conversation with him after last night, until someone's arms wrap around you from behind.
"Hey, beautiful." Your friend from the other day was back. And he clearly didn't see Miles right next to you. You cringe and awkwardly take his arms off of you and turn around, "Hey, Josh." "Are you free tonight?" Miles was watching this interaction with jealousy coursing through his veins. Did this douche seriously not see him right next to you? Right before you could even open your mouth to respond, Miles responds for you. "Hell no she isn't. Get the fuck out of here, man." Miles snaps at him. Your friend's head whipped to Miles so fast you were sure he'd get whiplash. "Oh shit." He stuttered, "Sorry, man. I didn't see you...I'll leave now." He ran away as fast as his feet could take him. Poor Josh.
You glared at Miles. "What the actual fuck was that, Miles? He was just asking me a question." "He was asking you out, idiot." Miles said right back to you. "So what if he was? Honestly. What's it to you? You've been acting so possessive. May I remind you that we are not together?" You snapped at him. "Maybe I want-" He started, but this time, he was the one cutting his sentence off. He couldn't find the words to tell you just yet.
The bell rings. You look at Miles, awaiting his response. When a few silent moments pass by, you finally say, "What? What is it you want?" For once in your friendship with Miles, he didn't have a response. You, he thought. "Y'know what Miles? Until you've come to your senses, just leave me be for now." He had no right to start acting like you were bound to him. You walked to your class without him. He cursed himself in his head.
You'd been ignoring him the whole day. Yet ever the petty, he hadn't messaged you at all.
Your phone pings. "You busy with Jake?" You read. It was from Miles. That petty fucker. Your face immediately drops. That's not even his name. You left him on read and turn off your phone. For someone who thinks he's heartless and nonchalant, he sure was acting possessive.
+1
Dusk approaches Brooklyn and you're out patrolling instead of thinking about Miles. That's all you've been doing lately, and you needed a distraction.
Unfortunately, Miles had the same idea. He was out taking missions Kingpin gave him.
As you were searching the streets of Brooklyn for crime, you sensed a presence. Ahead of you was a silhouette in a dimly lit alley, their back facing you. You hid behind the wall. Finally something interesting tonight! As you climb on the walls and get closer, you recognize the figure.
Oh, great. It's the Prowler.
This wasn't your first time meeting the Prowler. No, you've fought with him in the past. He's ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He's efficient and excruciatingly fast. That's what makes him an imminent risk to be allowed to roam the streets freely.
As Spider-woman, it's your responsibility to keep the streets of Brooklyn crime-free. So, you follow him. As you're trailing behind him, crawling on the walls, you notice the people he's meeting with. It's an arms deal, you realize. As you crawl closer, you notice that they weren't regular arms. They were abnormally high-tech for these seemingly harmless criminals.
I'll just web up the couple of amateurs and then deal with the big guy Prowler, easy. Oh how wrong you were.
"Hey, boys! Nice toy you've got there." You said as you dropped your voice down an octave, disguising your voice. You jump down from your place on the wall and thwip your webs at the unsuspecting arms dealers, binding them to the wall. They were knocked unconscious.
You thwip'd your webs at the weapon and effectively took it away from them. You'd have to drop it by the police station later with a friendly note.
The Prowler lunged at you, his steel claws missing your face by an inch.
"Hey, man! That felt a little personal." You shouted, thankful to still have your face attached to your head. You used your webs to grab onto the Prowler and strike him directly on his mask. You started to run, with the Prowler tailing right behind you.
He had you cornered, but you weren't surrendering that easily. You positioned into a defensive stance, ready to defend yourself.
His mask was cracked a bit, causing his voice modulator to reveal his unfiltered voice. "Nowhere to run, spider."
Your heart dropped as your eyes widened through your mask. Not in fear, but in recognition. You could recognize that voice anywhere. That was the voice that sent shivers down your whole body, yet made you want to strangle him the next.
"...Miles?" The words came out more of a whisper. Your voice sputtered as you dropped your fake voice. You webbed the weapon to the wall, disregarding it. Turns out, he didn't need to reject you to shatter your heart into a million pieces.
His stance immediately faltered. He could recognize your voice out of a thousand others.
Prowler, or rather Miles, stood silent.
“Miles, take off that damn mask. I know it's you.” You took off your mask, and he opened his. His eyes were unreadable. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into Miles?" You sighed. You didn't recognize him anymore. You didn't know who he was. There was no way the Miles you knew had become this.
"Fuck, princesa. I didn't want you to get involved in this shit. You're the fucking spider?" You feel as if he was seeing you for the first time again. "I'm fucking Spider-woman, you dick. And I've been involved with this 'shit' ever since I got bit by a spider. Now explain this, whatever you've turned into!" You spurted out, pointing at his suit. "I got roped into business with Kingpin after my father died. Shit, I never meant for this to happen." He exclaimed.
"What, you think you're protecting me by not telling me? Bullshit." You say, throwing your hands up in the air. "I was protecting you. I was protecting you from Kingpin. Because I fucking love you. I meant it when I said you were my girl." He proclaimed.
When you thought this night couldn't get any wilder, it just did.
Alarms blared in the back of your mind, telling you to leave. Your brain is screaming at you to think about your moral obligation to stop the Prowler, no matter who he is. But your heart is telling you otherwise. You choose the latter.
"Fuck, Miles. Shut the hell up." You threw a web at his abdomen and pulled him towards you, efficiently shutting him up by connecting your lips to his. Sliding your hands onto his braids, you pulled him in closer. He immediately reciprocated and grinned into the kiss, setting his arms on your hips.
Turning into a heated make-out session, he backed you against the wall of the alley. You felt your legs giving out on you. Miles put his knee in between your legs, supporting you. He kissed you with passion. He's pinned for you for the longest time, and he finally has you. He wasn't going to give it up for anything. Unfortunately, you needed oxygen to live, so you pulled back. A string of saliva connected your lips as you parted.
He took away all the oxygen in your body, and apparently your moral compass as well, with only one kiss. Unable to open your eyes until a few moments after, you fluttered your eyes open. "I fucking love you too, Miles" You whispered against his lips. "Oh, really? Couldn't tell." He teased with a smirk, his lips seconds away from yours as he looked down at you. He held your gaze with longing in his eyes.
Muffled screams ruined the moment. Miles and you react immediately, putting your masks back on. You got your webs ready while Miles had his steel daggers out. Lowering your guards, you realize it was the couple of guys you webbed up and forgot. "Sorry, I'll go take care of them." You said as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. Miles stifled a laugh as he said, "That's alright, ma. You can make it up to me later." You heard the smugness in his voice as you swung away to the police station. You made sure to fulfill his request later that night.
---------
part 2!
5K notes · View notes
d0youc0py · 9 months
Note
Heyyy. This might b triggering so it’s okay if u don’t do it, but how would 141 + Konig react if reader was @ her friends house and got in the middle of an argument between friend + her bf and friends bf ended up hitting reader? (Kinda self indulgent 🫣)
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“You always do this Simon!” You growled, shoving some clothes into an overnight bag.
“Do what?” He snapped back. He stood in the doorway, trying to slow his breathing. He was upset- more than upset, but he refused to loose his patience with you. “Just want to keep you safe kid.” He reminded.
“You’re trying to isolate me!” You shouted, making your way towards the bathroom. “Every time I try to do anything you always tell me it���s not safe- or that I shouldn’t trust this person. Newsflash Simon I have been able to survive on this earth without you.”
“I don’t like him.” He held strong. He wouldn’t compromise with you if he felt you were at risk. Your friend had invited you to spend the night at her house for a sleepover, and when you broke the news to Simon his first question was: ‘will that slag of hers be there?’ To be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. Why did it matter if he was there? You knew Simon trusted you but his constant distrust of other people was starting to wear on you.
“That doesn’t really matter Simon.” You sighed. You stood in front of him expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the frame. “Besides what evidence to you have against him?”
“He’s a strange man.” He responded.
“He’s not a stranger Simon. We’ve been on like three double dates with them.” You huffed, taking it upon yourself to push past him when he refused to move. He growled to himself, following you around the flat. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips pulling you back towards him. His neck bent down and you instinctually made room for his head by tilting yours to the side.
“Just stay home with me tonight, yeah?” The anger left your body at his soft words and the small kisses placed against your neck. “Or at least say you can’t spend the night. No reason for you to be away for that long.” You turned in his arms, placing a kiss against his chin.
“Simon I’ll be fine, yeah?” You murmured, causing another huff to escape him.
•••
That turned out to be a fat lie.
“Do you think Simon’s going to propose anytime soon?” She asked causing you to flush. “You two have been together for what, three, four years?”
“Just two.” You corrected politely. “I don’t know honestly, haven’t really thought about it much.”
“Such a lie.” She snickered, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes waving her off.
“Keep it down in there!” You both jumped at the sudden boom from the living room.
“Sorry Rick!” Your friend shouted, seemingly unbothered by his nasty tone. A pit formed in your stomach.
“He always talk to you like that?” You asked, keeping your voice down. She looked at you with a small smile.
“Just when I’m bothering him. Surely Simon snaps at you.” She explained. How could she not realize how out of touch her statement was.
“Not like that.” You said.
“What’s that suppose to mean?” You winced as Ricks voice rung out from behind you. How the hell were you suppose to get out of this one? “You comin into my house, filling my girls head with shite?” He snarled. You quickly stood up.
“No, course not.” You smiled, making your way towards the door.
“I’m good to her.” He huffed, following your footsteps. You nodded your head in agreement.
“I’m sure you are.” You offered a weak smile, peaking behind you to make sure you didn’t trip over any furniture. His arm darted out gripping yours, tugging you close to him.
“You’re sure?” He pressed. You were a quivering mess at this point. Fear and adrenaline being to much for your body to process.
“Rick!” Your friend yelled. He threw a harsh ‘shut up’ over his shoulder. Your mind raced trying to remember even just one technique Simon had showed you. You wished you had payed more attention, instead of just staring at his arms the whole time.
“You’re sure?” He growled again giving you a shake.
“Stop!” You shouted. It was met with a harsh smack to your face.
“I’ve got neighbors you little”- His words were cut off as Simon’s words finally rang through your head:
“When in doubt, aim for the balls or the throat.”
You decided the first one was the most viable option. It had caught him off guard enough to loosen his grip and it was all you needed, slamming the front door shut behind you. You had made it down the flight of stairs, your hands searching your pockets for your phone only to realize you had left it inside.
“Fuck.” You whimpered, trying to make heads or tails of where you were. You weren’t overly familiar with this area. But you were familiar with the fast approaching figure heading towards you. “Simon.” You gasped, hurdling yourself towards him. You didn’t know why he was here but you sure as shit weren’t complaining.
Even through your own shakes you could feel him tremble against you. You let out a sob as he tried to pull away from you.
“He touch you?” He growled, none of it’s malice towards you. Your cheek burned and you could only imagine the mark it had left.
“I want to go home.” You sputtered, burying your face in the safety of his shoulder. He swallowed down his anger to the best of his ability.
“Alright, sweetheart.” He murmured against your head. He carried you to the truck, buckling you up. He continued to let you cling to him until you had calmed, and the loudest thing between you two was his pounding heartbeat. “Tell me what happened, yeah?” He hummed, trying his hardest to fake some calmness.
“He grabbed my arm.” You whispered. His chest heaved. “And”- you cut yourself off. Taking a small breath you pulled away from him, his heated eyes quickly falling on the bruise already spreading over half your face. His face flushed, but he was able to hold in the burning of his body.
“Sweetheart.” He said slowly. He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Give me the apartment number.”
“1G.” You said, with surprisingly little hesitation. Whatever Simon was about to do, it was deserved.
When Simon came back he was shockingly clean, and shockingly poised. He tossed your overnight bag into the back seat and handed you your phone when he got into the drivers seat.
“Simon”- he cut you off by tangling both your hands with one of his, pulling out of the parking garage. You didn’t need to know. You didn’t need to know that he had broken down a door- and almost every bone in that man’s body. That he had been waiting outside the apartment building for the past three hours, stewing in his own protectiveness. Your friend wasn’t even mad. She didn’t bat an eye when Simon asked to use her bathroom to clean himself up a bit- not wanting that man’s blood anywhere near your precious body.
He brought your hands up pressing a kiss against your knuckles, pulling into the grocery store parking lot for a bag of frozen peas and ice cream.
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He wasn’t suppose to be home yet. He had at least another week away- another week for your bruised face to heal. It had just began to look better, the harsh purple color fading to more of a greenish yellow color.
He opened the door, steadying himself for the only attack he actually enjoyed. Your pressing yourself as close to him as you could, tangling your limbs with any part of him, your lips suffocating any thought he had other than he was finally home with you. His stomach dropped when it never came, shutting to door behind him his bag thumping loud against the floor.
“Sweetheart?” His voice boomed, the worst running through his head. He reminded himself he wasn’t suppose to be home for another week and that you weren’t expecting him. Yet your car was in the driveway and there was still no sign of you.
“I’m here.” His shoulders relaxed, your voice melting his brain just right.
“Where are y”- he stopped himself. You were standing in front of him. The realization as to why you weren’t all over him right now crashing down on him harder than a bullet. You- his literal everything- adorned with a sickening brush on your cheek. The same cheek he would brush his beard against to make you laugh. The same cheek his fingers would stroke to self soothe when his brain was just too loud. The same cheek that would flush berry red when he mumbled certain things against you.
“I can explain.” You said quickly, allowing him to maneuver the two of you to the couch. You quickly found your designated spot on his lap, hoping your touch would cause the storm that was about to ensure lighten.
“I want a name.” His voice was calm. Too calm.
“It was an accident. Fell in the garden and hit myself on that big rock you keep telling me to look out for.”
He wasn’t buying it. His face stone cold, as his thumb traced over the healing brush gently.
“I’ll be good.” He assured. He couldn’t fathom why you wanted to protect this person. Must’ve been someone you knew. “Name, please.”
“John.” You whined, clawing at his shirt. He huffed and relaxed you against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
“You don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll overreact.” He couldn’t even blame you for that. The man would happily start a war over you. “I won’t touch ‘em, I promise.” He whispered. His hand rubbed up and down your back and you realized just how much you needed the comfort. His hand stopped at your neck, massaging the tense muscles. “Just need to know who hurt my love, hmm?”
“Promise you won’t hurt anyone?” You insisted using his chest to cover up a yawn. He hummed, nodding his head.
“Rick. Remember Kelsey’s boyfriend? I went over to her house and he showed up drunk yelling at her about some fight they had earlier. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and before I knew it he hit me.” You explained. The normally comfortable body under you had turned ridged, his heartbeat drumming against your ear. “John?”
“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He chuckled slowly against your temple. “Did you”-
“Put a frozen steak on it? Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that happened darling.” He sighed. His large hands gripped your sides pulling you away from him just for a moment. “If something like that ever happens again you call me, understand?” His eyebrow rose to show his seriousness.
“Yes sir.” You swore a small smile on your lips.
He had kept his promise- he didn’t hurt anyone. But he couldn’t allow someone who hurt you live a comfortable life. It would go against his oath to you if he did.
And besides, someone has to make the enemy afraid of the dark.
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He should’ve know better than to leave you alone. He thought that for just one moment while he went to the bathroom it would be safe. You had been tucked under his arm the whole evening, so everyone knew who you were there with. It was his fault for assuming his physique was enough to keep any unwanted advancements away. Time slowed as he came out of the bathroom, his trained eyes spotting you right where he had left you, except you were on the floor. Tears streaming down that perfect face of yours, your own hand cupping your cheek. He didn’t even need to see your best friend pulling at her boyfriends arm in shock- or the way his green eyes stared at his own hand like it had just appeared out of thin air to know what had happened.
Johnny was by your side in an instant, pulling your hazy body to its feet. He’d experienced this before on the field. Everything moving in slow motion- hyper focusing on the important things. Right now it was you.
“Mac.” You gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. Like a shockwave he was pulled back into real time. The loud chatter of the bar. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer. The fear rolling off of you. It made his blood boil. He turned to look at Rick his mind going into autopilot. His hand shot out grabbing him by the shirt collar on flinging him backwards. The bar went dead silent the only sound was Ricks body slamming into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar. Johnny took a few steps forward wanting to finish what he had just started. That wasn’t enough of a punishment. He wouldn’t be happy till he was unrecognizable. “Jo.” Your pleading voice snapped him out of it once more.
In that moment he realized how selfish he was. You were scared and needed assurance, not seeing your husband nearly kill someone. He wrapped a sturdy arm around you guiding you out of the disheveled bar. The cold felt good against your heated bodies.
“I don’t know what happened.” You sputtered, letting the Scot support your body weight. “Camilla was making a joke about how angry Rick gets when she folds his laundry wrong and I made a joke about how she still does his laundry and then he”-
You couldn’t even get through the story.
“Let me see.” Johnny hushed, gently removing your hand from your face. He leaned forward pressing a light kiss against the throbbing flesh. “How bad does it hurt?”
“Six out of ten.” You responded, nuzzling your way back into his strong chest. All you wanted was to be home in bed in the safety of his arms. The smell of pine tickled your brain enough for the tears to stop.
“Should go back there and”-
“No.” You huffed.
“That number is too damn high for me to let him off easy.”
“Easy? You threw the man across the room with one hand.” You reminded.
“Should make it so he only has one hand.”
“Johnny.” The use of his full name stopped the unintelligible Scottish rambling that was sure to ensue. “Can we go home please?”
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“Hey sweetheart, need me to come pick you up?” Kyle spoke into the phone that was resting between his shoulder and his cheek. When you sniffled into the phone he didn’t even bother to pause his game, his fingers gripping the device in his hand.
“Ky.” You mumbled. You mumbled in that specific tone that cracked his heart in such a wince worthy way. “I need help.” His blood ran cold.
“Stay on the phone with me, yeah.” He demanded, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes. “What happened?” The sound of his car starting settled you a little bit. “You still at your friends house?”
“No, I’m down the street, by the library.” You sniffed. “He hit me, Ky.”
A sound let Kyles throat- a mix of a growl and a whine. His foot pressed even harder against the accelerator, running straight through a red light. His body was shaking, adrenaline heightening his senses. He wished the two of you didn’t live in such a big city with so much fucking traffic.
“Who’s he?” Kyle snarled.
“Jess’s boyfriend.” You emphasized. “They got into a stupid fight about which Pizza to order for lunch and all I did was fucking agree with her.”
He felt sick. He’d seen a lot of gruesome shit in his life, but the thought of someone hurting you took the cake. He could imagine how scared you were- how scared you are. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and he imagined your heart rate was about the same as his right now. He can imagine you scrambling to find a way out of there- away from the danger.
“After this we’re practicing those damn self dense moves.” He gritted. You mumbled an ‘okay’ before seeing a familiar sleek, black car pull up next to you.
“How’d you get here so fast?” You questioned, hanging up the phone as he got out of the car.
“Let me see.” He insisted, pressing the back of his palm against your heated cheek. You winced, shying away. “Let’s go get you some ice.” He said mostly to himself. He rested a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to the passenger side.
He kept his hand in your lap the whole drive to the grocery store. “What pizza did he want?”
“Pepperoni with mushrooms.” You replied. The rest of the ride was silent, Kyle went into the store without you.
“Hold this against your face.” He pressed a bag of frozen peas to your cheek. He unwrapped your favorite candy bar, placing it in your lap. Even with your swollen face you couldn’t stop a smile. “I need to make a quick stop before we go home.” His eyes flickered over to you, the same flash of anger striking through him as he took your appearance in. You didn’t think anything of it till he turned down your friends street.
“Kyle.” You mumbled. The last thing you wanted to do was be back here.
“I know baby, I know.” He tried his best to soothe, but he was so riled up. He needed to get this out of his system. Besides he couldn’t just let people hurt you and get away with it. “Stay here, I’ll only be a second.” He closed the door behind him, grabbing a frozen pizza that you didn’t even know he got out of the backseat. You watched anxiously as he made his way up the driveway ringing the doorbell.
The door opened to reveal Rick and Kyle wasted absolutely no time shoving the frozen pizza in his face. The strength of it sent Rick flying backwards and Kyle took the upmost pleasure in the loud crack of his nose breaking.
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“Traffic is bad mein Herz. I’m going to be a little late.” You huffed at his words.
“Drive safe I’ll see you soon.”
“He running late?” Your friend questioned as you made your way back into the kitchen.
“Yeah, should be here soon though.” She smiled, taking dinner out of the oven. “Help me set up?” She asked over her shoulder, making her way to the dinning room. You began grabbing the silverware out of the drawer.
“No, Konig?” Rick asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. You shook your head.
“He’ll be here soon.” You assured.
“That’s too bad.” His hand landing on your hip followed his slimy words.
“What are you doing?” You spat, backing away. He shushed you.
“Keep you’re voice down. Don’t want her to find us out, yeah?” He said, nodding his head towards the dinning room.
“There is nothing to find out!” You must’ve said it too loud, because Ricks hand flung forward connecting with your cheek. You dropped the spoons in your hand, then clattering loudly on the floor. You didn’t even have time to feel scared, catching sight of the colossal figure in the doorway.
Rick followed your gaze and it was almost laugh worthy at how quickly he lost all confidence.
“Schatz?” Konig held out his car keys to you. “Wait in the car, please.”
Gentle blue eyes watched you, almost chuckling at the way you skipped over to him. Konig reveled in the way you trusted him. Trusted him to take care of you- to protect you. Later he would wrap you up in his arms and hold a bag of ice to your face, but right now he had other things to deal with.
“And turn the music up. It might get loud in here.”
4K notes · View notes
i4butcher · 3 months
Text
One Hell Of An Agent
Sam Winchester x F!Reader
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Summary: After weird deaths start happening and your friend becomes a victim of it, two men appear at your door for questioning and your day turns into the weirdest you've ever lived.
Warnings: SMUT, size kink (if you squint), oral (f. recieving), big d sam (obviously), dean gets forgotten lmao, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), piv, tit sucking, sam is a sweetheart, pet names (doll, baby, beautiful), a bit of body insecurity but, as i said, sam is a gentleman, reader is shorter and overall smaller then sam, use of y/n, NOT PROOF READ, english isn't my first language (if i forgot anything TELL ME)
Read it on AO3
WC: 6.1k
You can learn how to change the "Y/N" for your actual name here
enjoy your meal babies, mwah mwah
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It was supposed to be just another day where you went to work to get pennies in exchange for spending close to 12 hours in front of a computer screen, get back home to drink until you decided you should take a shower and sleep. Then repeat.
You, standing in your living room with a circle of kitchen salt around you and two men who were supposedly FBI agents holding shotguns and the ghost of an old woman trying to kill you, wasn't in your plans.
They both had arrived at your house in suits earlier that day, knocking on your door. You groaned and got up from the couch, leaving your beer bottle settled on the coffee table. Once you opened the door you widened your eyes at the two men standing there.
The taller one greeted himself first. He had a – almost – shoulder length brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes. To say you were shocked at how handsome he looked was an understatement. The shorter one had deep green eyes and short hair, he was pretty too but his partner…
“Hello, I'm Agent Page, this is my partner, Agent Plant” He said, showing you his badge and nodding to Plant, him copying what his partner did.
You furrowed your eyebrows, recognizing the names from the Led Zeppelin band.
“Plant and Page as in…the Led Zeppelin guys?” You questioned and they shared a look. The shorter one stepped foward, giving you a once over, clearly checking you out.
“Just a coincidence Ma'am” He said, smiling at you and you nodded, still a bit skeptical.
You opened the door wider for them both to get in.
“Come in, please. Have a seat” You said, gesturing to the couch and they sat besides each other. Page eyed the beer at the coffee table in front of him and you cringed.
“Sorry, I wasn't expecting the FBI at my door” You chuckled lightly and took the beer bottle to the kitchen in the other room. When you came back, both their eyes were on you and you felt a bit intimidated.
“Well…why are the feds at my house…?” You asked, sitting at the armchair and resting your hands on your lap, fidgeting nervously with your fingers.
Page put his elbows on his knees, his fingers crossing in front of him as he leaned forward to talk closer to you. You took notice of his big frame wondering how someone could be so…wide?
“Miss…”
“Y/N” You filled in the gap.
“Miss Y/N” He said, licking his lower lip with his tongue “We are here to ask about the recent murders around”
“Oh” You said. You knew well about one of the victims, a friend of yours. It had been a little over 2 weeks since her death but you always went with the mantra to keep going no matter what. At the memory of her you felt your throat restrict and you blinked back tears.
Page seemed to notice and put a gentle hand on your knee to comfort you. When you looked up he was smiling slightly and you calmed down.
“We know Beth was your friend and we are sorry for your loss” He said, squeezing your knee “But we'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind”
You nodded and looked between the both of them, taking a deep breath.
“Yeah…yeah of course” You said and he nodded, pulling his hand away from you, the warmth still lingering where he had placed it.
“Did you notice any weird behaviors before your friend passed? Like she was distant, cold…?” Plant asked and you made a face trying to remember anything. You recorded a night you two went out
“Five days or so before she died…” You started, turning your head down to stare at your fingers over your lap. “We went to a bar near my house and she kept glancing behind her, nervous, on edge, as if something would jump her at any moment. When I asked her what was wrong she looked at me, terrified, grabbed her things and bolted”
You sighed thinking you should've went with her now that she was gone.
“I tried calling, texting. Nothing. For those five days I didn't hear anything from her then…they called me announcing that she was gone” You started tearing up again and closed your eyes to hold them back.
“She didn't have anyone else, y'know, I should've been there for her, I–” You choked on an inevitable sob and covered your face with your hands. Then you felt the taller man's hand on your knee again, his thumb stroking your leg.
“We are truly sorry, it wasn't your fault” He said, a voice so comforting and calm you felt it in your heart.
You took your hands away from your face and sniffed, letting out a slight chuckle. You felt a bit embarrassed to be crying in front of them both.
“I'm sorry” You said and brushed your hair back with your hand “I think this was it. She was always a very quiet girl but sweet, caring, I couldn't think of anyone that would do this to her”
The men nodded and looked at each other, a silent conversation you weren't a part of. You looked down to see Page's hand still on your knee and you smiled to yourself. What a nice fed.
"Thanks for the information Ma'am" Page said. When they looked back at you, he patted your knee lightly and got up with his partner. You stood up as well to accompany them to the door, them both behind you.
You opened the door and looked at them both going out, your gaze lingering longer on the taller one, looking him up and down.
They turned to you with a tiny card in his hand and gave it to you, your finger brushing against his.
“If you remember anything, give us a call. Thank you for your time” He smiled warmly along with the green eyed Agent.
“Will do, thank you so much” You said, smiling back seeing them walk away to the Impala parked in front of your house.
You kept your gaze locked until they drove away, snapping you out of your daze getting back in your house and locked the door, smiling like an idiot at the image of the handsome guy you just met.
Inside the Impala, Dean kept glancing towards Sam, who had his face buried into the newpaper about the couple murders happening.
“Dude” Dean finally said, a grin on his face. Sam looked up at him and made a questioning face at his side profile.
“What?” He asked
Dean laughed lightly and looked at his brother.
“She was eating you with her eyes” Dean said and at that Sam's full attention was on him, lowering the paper with a confused face.
“Who? Y/N?” He asked and Dean nodded. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother. “Dean, c'mon” He said.
“I'm serious, the look she gave you when we left, staring you up and down like a feast” Dean laughed mischievously, looking for a couple seconds at Sam's shocked expression. “She's pretty, y'know, if you don't want it, I'll have it”
“Shut up Dean” He said but he couldn't help thinking about your looks towards him and the impulse he felt to comfort you with a hand on your leg when he realized you were upset.
Dean laughed and shook his head at the stubbornness of his brother, driving back to the cheap motel they were staying at.
Your day went by as usual, some couple more beers here, a whiskey there, some movie you had on the TV.
You ended up falling asleep on the couch for a couple hours until about 2AM when you heard a loud thud in your house and your entire body entered fight or flight mode.
You got up and kept your ears trained for any more sounds until you heard your stove, the gas being poured out in your house and the color drained from your face. What the hell?
You went into the kitchen and for sure the smell of the gas hit hard on your nose and you gagged.
Suddenly the door to the kitchen closed behind you and you jumped in shock. Your heart started ringing in your ears and your hands were trembling.
“Hello?! Is anybody there?!” You asked, your voice shaking as you went to the door. Locked. You started to panic, were you crazy? Was this a dream?
There was a noise behind you and you turned, seeing the knife cabinet open and you glued yourself to the door, trying to get the lock open when a kitchen knife started to float up and towards you.
You screamed and banged at the door.
“Help! Someone, please!” You screamed and the knife was plunged in the door, close to your head and your body fell back in the ground, tears rolling down your cheeks when everything stopped.
You slowly got up and tried to open the door. Success. You scrambled out of your kitchen and unlocked the front door, sprinting out of your house terrified.
You remembered the card the Agent gave you. You didn't know if it was okay to call him this late but you just almost died. You thought he could make an exception.
With trembling fingers, you dialed the number on your phone, putting it to your ear. Please pick up, please pick up.
“Hello? Agent Page speaking, who is this?” He said with a gruff voice, he was definitely sleeping and you felt a bit bad for waking him up.
“Agent?” You practically whispered, your voice shaky with fear.
“Y/N?” He recognized your voice and made a confused face, sitting up on the bed. “What's wrong?”
“I– I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have called I–” You spoke fast, nervous. He took notice of that “Something happened” You said simply.
“We are on our way” He said and slipped on his shoes, already on outside clothes. He nudged Dean to wake him up. “Hang in there”
“Okay” You said in a whisper as he turned the call off, biting your thumbnail in order to stay calm in the circumstances.
Dean woke up to see Sam getting his bag ready in a frenze, a worried look in his younger brother's face.
“Y/N called, something happened, she seemed stressed, let's go” He said, throwing Dean his bag, the oldest groaning as he grabbed the keys for the Impala.
As they drove there, Sam couldn't help but get even more stressed the long it took for them to arrive. He wondered if you were okay, if you had gotten hurt, or worse. When they arrived, you were sitting on your porch, legs tucked close to your body as you shivered.
When you heard the noise of the car you got up. The two came out and you were a bit weirded out to see them in normal clothes but relieved nonetheless.
When they got closer you breathed out in relief, the taller of the two coming closer then Plant, grabbing your shoulders and eyeing you up and down, looking for any visible damage.
“Are you hurt? What happened?” He asked and you shook your head at the first question.
“I don't know…If I explain it I'll sound crazy” You said
“Oh, sweetheart, believe me, we know crazy” The green eyed Agent said and you looked at him, the nickname foreign but you brushed it off.
“I was sleeping in my couch when I woke up with a loud bang” You began. “I got up to see that my stove started leaking gas and…when I wnt to the kitchen, the door…It shut behind me, locked” You said, shakily and Page brushed his hand on your shoulder, the same way he had done to your knee earlier “I couldn't get out and a knife started to fucking float, it charged at me, caught the door and then it all just…stopped”
“I was able to leave my house and…call you” She said and looked into his eyes, the comforting gaze seeping into her. “I'm sorry, I know it's late”
“Don't bother, it's fine. Let's try and see how we can help you, okay?” He said
You looked at him, puzzled, tilting your head at him
“You believe me?” You asked and he let out an aired laugh in amusement.
“What if I tell you we aren't truly FBI agents” He said.
“Oh” You widened your eyes and looked between the both of them, shameful smiles on their faces. “Right”
“Get in, we will explain everything we can to you” He said and you nodded getting inside your house.
After a couple minutes you learned that they were actually brothers, the tall one was named Sam and the shorter was Dean. They told you all about what they did, the family business, how real the supernatural was and tried to explain that you experienced something ghost-like.
You were absolutely dumbfounded as they said all that. It was hard to believe that, how is all of it real if you hadn't seen anything your whole life similar to what they explained to you? Just now?
“Okay so…you both are like…the Ghostbusters?” But hotter. You noted, mentally.
“Basically, yeah” Dean said.
You sat there with your hands over your face. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry at the situation.
The brothers walked around with the so called EMFs, machines you learned could sense the presence of ghosts.
You couldn't help but glance at Sam. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his hair falling around his face and from time to time he bit his lower lip.
You were entranced at how annoyingly handsome he was until loud beeping from Dean's EMF startled you.
Sam whooped his head towards him and they shared silent looks. Sam turned to his bag and got a shotgun out and you widened your eyes at him. He took notice of that.
“They are loaded with rock salt, don't worry” He said and you made a confused face. He smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat. “Let's say…ghosts don't like salt. Salt and iron are their weaknesses” He said and you hummed in acknowledgement getting up and going to your fireplace to get an iron rod.
Sam stared at you as you walked back to him and you shrugged.
“It's iron, you said it could keep them at bay” You said and he nodded.
A loud noise startled all of you, in the kitchen, where Dean was the closest to and he cooked his gun, Sam doing the same and protecting you with his body.
“Stay behind me” He murmured to you and you nodded, iron rod in your hand prepared for any attack.
“Come on you son of a bitch!” Dean said and, as if on cue, the ghost of an old lady appeared in your kitchen and you gasped, recognizing her immediately.
“Mrs. Greene?” You whispered and apparently she heard you because in a moment she was there and in the other she was behind you.
“Y/N, watch out!” Sam yelled in front of you and you turned around, swinging your weapon and making her vanish for a couple of moments.
You were breathing heavily, your ears ringing until Sam snapped you out of your daze, turning you around by grabbing at your arm.
“Are you okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice as he gave you a once over.
“Yeah, I think” You replied and Dean appeared as quick as possible making a circle of salt around you and Sam stepped out of it, letting your arm go.
“You need to stay there, she can't get you because of the salt” Dean said.
“You know her?” Sam asked and you looked at him, nodding.
“She was Beth's mother. Died in a car accident that…my father caused. Me and Beth bonded through their deaths but I guess her mom didn't really approve of that” You said, smiling sadly to yourself.
“Where is she buried?” Dean questioned.
“The cemetery near the only church in town. About 5 miles from here” You replied and Dean gave Sam a quick nod as he got his bag and gave his brother extra ammunition.
“I'll go do the dirty job, you, protect her, make sure that bitch doesn't kill her” Dean said as he went out the door, shutting it behind him.
You sat on the ground, in the middle of the salt circle, mindlessly playing with the iron rod in your hand. Sam looked down at you. You looked more than upset, understandably.
“Everything is going to be okay” He reassured you and you looked at him with a gentle smile. Until you weren't smiling anymore and instead was looking behind him.
“Sam, behind you!” You said, getting up again and he turned shooting the ghost and she reappeared behind you, outside of the circle.
You turned around, shaking and lifting your weapon at her. She looked down at the salt circle and the creepiest smile you've ever seen opens up in her face, sending shivers down your spine.
Suddenly the windows broke open and a strong gust of wind came in with full force. You covered your head to protect it from the glass until you looked down and the salt circle was broken around you.
Your heart dropped as she started approaching you and Sam shot her again from behind you.
To your dismay, she was behind him again, and before you could warn him about her she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him against a wall.
“Sam!” You screamed and she turned to you again, slowly walking towards your frame and you backed away, the iron rod propped in front of you protectively.
She knocked the rod out of your hand and you looked desperately at it on the ground.
Your back pressed against the wall and you closed your eyes, preparing for your death when she started screaming and you opened your eyes.
She was quite literally burning right in front of you, with her hands reaching for your throat until she was just gone, no burn marks on your ground, weirdly, and her desperation echoed through the house.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, your heart beating in your ears. You heard a groan and remembered Sam was basically knocked out on the other side of the room.
You rushed to him and kneeled down besides him with a hand on his cheek and the other in one of his knee.
“Sam, are you okay?” You asked as he slowly opened his eyes. When he seemed to retrieve consciousness again he breathed in deeply and scrambled to get up but you held him down by putting a hand on his chest.
“Hey, hey, it's okay, she's…gone, I guess” You said and he focused his eyes on yours when you smiled. You felt your face heat up at the look he was giving you until Dean barged in through the front door, whistling at the mess.
He looked towards both of you on the ground and made a face, holding back a smirk.
“Burned her up…Am I interrupting something?” Dean asked playfully and you felt a tad of embarrassment, helping Sam get up with a grunt.
They started to gather their stuff and you wondered how the hell you were going to clean up your whole house. Glass and salt everywhere, a hole on the wall where Sam was thrown at.
When they were all done you got each a beer. They tried to deny it but you insisted, claiming it was a thank you treat for saving your life.
You finished all your drinks, throwing the bottles away and you walked them to the door, the Impala parked in front of your house. They got out and stood outside as you smiled at them.
“Thank you, again, really, you both saved my life” You said.
“It's nothing, really, we do this everyday” Dean said with a dismissive wave. “I'm going to load the car” Dean said, giving Sam a pat on the back and a look you didn't understand but apparently Sam did, since he gave a deep breath and a practically death glare at his brother, his chest going up and down.
“So…” He started, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
“So?” You nudged, smiling up at him and biting your lower lip. His eyes stared at your mouth and you felt small under his gaze.
“You were amazing back there, you know?” He said, crossing his arms in front of him and smiling. “You knew what to do, few people can do what you did”
He complimented and you looked down, smiling like an idiot. He’s so sweet.
“Oh I just…went by logic I guess, nothing much. You said iron and I reached for iron” You said, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked up again.
“Yeah…” He said, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. You decided to be a bit brave and got into your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek, holding on his shoulder for support.
When you pulled back he didn't pull away and one of his hands cupped your cheek, looking between your eyes when he leaned into you, his lips against yours in a light kiss.
You responded almost immediately, your hand going to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss and he placed his hands on your waist. You reluctantly pulled away with a hum, dazed by the kiss with your eyes still closed.
When you opened them his eyes were on your face and you felt warm again. He pulled you back in your house and you giggled in surprise when he closed the door, his hand still holding you.
“What about your brother?” You said as he turned his attention back to you, a smirk on his face when he squeezed your waist. He leaned in closer and you held your breath.
“He can wait” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again, this time more intensely then before and you hummed, burying your hand on his hair while the other stroked his chest.
You started taking his jacket off when you stopped and pulled away.
“Is this okay? I mean I'm totally fin–” He cut you off with another mind blowing kiss and you gasped.
He shrugged off his jacket, dropping it to the ground and clasping your face in both his hands.
“Does this answer your question?” He smiled teasingly and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss his lips again and his hands grabbed your hips in response.
He brushed his tongue against your lower lip and you opened your mouth to let him explore it, moaning lowly against his mouth.
He lowered his hands to the back of your thighs, not breaking the kiss, and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and you yelped in his mouth.
You noted he was big, you just didn't know he was this strong, lifting you in his arms as if you weighed nothing.
He walked to the kitchen and placed you on the counter, his hands going under your shirt and experimenting with his touches on your bare skin.
You whimpered, shivers running through your whole body as his big hands roamed through your burning skin.
You pulled away, your forehead touching his, a whispered “Fuck” coming out of your lips. Your hands went to the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, leaving your torso bare besides your bra.
Sam drank you in, his adam apple bobbing when he swallowed and you felt embarrassed under his strong gaze, your hands slowly coming to wrap themselves around your stomach.
He held your wrists gently, pulling them away from you and his hands went up and down your arms.
“Don't hide from me, you're beautiful” He whispered and started to leave kisses down your neck, nibbling and biting where he noticed you liked the best with the noises leaving your mouth.
Your hand wrapped in his hair to pull him back to your lips, his kisses addicting like a drug.
He pulled away again to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso and your jaw physically dropped at the sight. He had some scars, some pale, old, others a pink tone, more recent but it just made him look even better, showing how much he had lived through. He chuckled at your reaction and settled his hands on your hips again, gently squeezing.
“See something you like?” He teased and you closed your mouth, your hands reaching slowly to touch his bare chest. He gasped at your feather-like touch on his tanned skin and you looked at him again, his eyes dark with desire.
“You're…stunning, like– I knew you were…muscular…from the get go but you're…” You trailed off and he chuckled, a bit embarrassed and leaned down to crash his lips against yours again.
His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, helping you take it off and toss it on the ground along with the rest of your clothes.
His hands came to the front and grabbed at both your breasts, squeezing them and making you moan into his mouth. His fingers teased at your hardened nipples and you arched into his touch.
His mouth started trailing down towards your neck, your collarbone, until he got to the valley of your breasts and looked up at you. Your mouth was open, eyes hazed and deep breaths were making your chest go up and down. What a sight.
He closed his mouth into one of your nipples and you whined, the warmth of his tongue circling around it making you grasp at his locks with a certain strength that made him groan around your skin. His fingers teased the other breast until he switched sides, feasting on your breasts.
“Sam…” You gasped his name and he hummed in acknowledgement of your plea, pulling away from your breast with a smile. “Please”
He gave your lips a peck and went down your body again, leaving open mouthed kisses down your stomach until he got to the waistband of your jeans and looked at you again, asking for permission and you nodded at him.
His fingers popped open the button of your pants and opened the zipper. You lifted your hips to help him pull the clothing off and he dragged it down your legs slowly, drinking you in.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his hungry gaze on your frame when his eyes noticed your soaked underwear.
He discarded your pants and ran his hands up your legs, his look never leaving your covered pussy. His hands stopped at your thighs as squeezed the flesh and you closed your legs instinctively.
He looked up at you and pried your legs open with his hands.
“What did I say about hiding from me?” He said, his tone deep and dominant making you swallow a whine as you spread your legs wider and he settled between them with a smirk.
He kissed your covered sex and you let out a low moan, his mouth traveled to your inner thighs, biting and kissing at the flesh, driving you insane.
“Please…” You begged, grabbing at his hair and he hummed.
“So desperate” He said against your skin, grasping your panties and pulling them down. You gasped at the cold air hitting your dripping core and he groaned at the sight.
He cupped your whole cunt with his hand, making your hips buck up into his touch and a low moan left your throat.
“Beautiful” He whispered and gave your thigh one last kiss. “Tell me if it's too much, okay?” He said and your heart melted.
“Okay” You breathed out and he smiled up at you. He took his hand away and you almost frowned when his lips wrapped around your clit and you moaned, bucking your hips against his mouth.
He smirked against you and put one hand over your hips to hold you still as he did wonders against your cunt. His tongue eating you out as if you were his last meal, ripping loud moans from your throat.
“Oh, fuck” You moaned, pulling at his hair “Sam– God” He hummed and groaned against your pussy sending jolts of pleasure through you.
He teased your hole with his finger, slowly entering you and stretching you out, hooking up and rubbing right at that spot and you moaned loudly.
“Jesus, fuck, right there– Shit” A string of curses left your mouth and he grinned proudly, adding another finger to your torture, making you cry out, his name slipping out of your lips.
You felt the knot inside of you tighten, your pussy clenching around his fingers and Sam knew you were about to cum.
“Cum for me, doll” He said and quickened his movements against you and your moans got louder.
“Fuck!” You groaned loudly as you finally came against his lips, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, your eyes closing in bliss, your fingers tightening in Sam's hair.
He helped you ride your orgams until the stimulation got almost painful and you started to try and close your legs.
“T'much, Sam–” You moaned and he pulled away, your juices shining against his face as he got up from his knees and grasped your waist tightly, smashing his lips against you, the foreign taste of yourself lingering on his tongue as he attacked your mouth.
“Taste as sweet as you look” He praises and you smirked.
You glance down at his still covered legs and crotch, the tent in his pants looked almost painful and you bit your lip. He noticed that and took you in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his hips, making your sensitive core grind against his jeans and you whined.
“As much as I'd like to bend you over that table and fuck you senseless” He said, getting closer to your ear and whispering: “I want to fuck you on a bed to see your cockdrunk face when I make you cum”
You shivered, not expecting these words coming out of his mouth and you attacked his neck with kisses and bites.
“My bedroom is down the hall, on the right” You mumbled against his skin, breathless, and he carried you to the room, his hands squeezing and digging in your ass as you continued marking his skin.
He gently placed you on the bed, kissing your lips hungrily and you led one of your hands down to his crotch, palming him through his jeans and he pulled away from your lips to groan, his forehead against yours.
“Fuck me, Sam” You breathed out and he kissed you one last time before standing up and unbuckling his belt and opening his zipper, dropping his pants to the ground and taking off his shoes.
You were staring, eating him with your eyes as he took off his boxers teasingly slow, stepping out of them and looking at your face for a reaction.
Your mouth watered and your pussy clenched around nothing. He was big. You expected him to be large, he was tall after all but you still were very shocked and wondered if you'd be able to take it all.
Sam seemed to notice your worries and grasped your chin to give your lips a comforting kiss. He wasn't cocky but he was aware of his size and knew it could be intimidating.
“We'll go slow, baby, if you want to stop, just say” He assured you and you felt all fuzzy and warm on the inside. It was hard to find men that actually cared and it seemed like you hit the jackpot with Sam. You nodded and he crawled over you, smashing your lips against his again.
He rubbed his cock up and down a couple times and lined it up with your entrance making you whine in anticipation. He slowly pushed into you and you pulled away to let your mouth hang open in a soundless moan.
Sam made sure to distract you from the pain, rubbing your thighs up and down and kissing your neck and collarbones. It took everything inside him to not pound into you. You tightened around him deliciously and he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.
“You feel so fucking good Y/N, God” He whisper-moaned against your ear and you hummed, your nails digging into his shoulders, definetly leaving marks to remind him for a couple days of this encounter.
“I feel so full, it feels so good” You moaned breathy as he was almost all the way inside you, his kisses soothing your hot skin, his fingernails marking your hips as he held back to let you adjust to his size once he was all the way inside.
You felt him in your throat and it took you a couple of moments to let the pain turn into pleasure and Sam was willing to wait as long as you needed.
When you finally stopped feeling the pain of the stretch you wiggled your hips against his cock and grabbed his cheek to give him a messy kiss.
“You can move, please” You said and he pulled back and forth, both of you moaning at the feeling, his dick hitting deeper than you thought was possible.
“Y/N” Sam moans against your shoulder, his strokes inside you making his whole body tremble with the tightness. His hand roams down your body until it reaches your lower stomach. He presses his hand down against your skin and you moan loudly. He grins, his breathing heavy as his hair makes a curtain around his face.
“Oh– fucking God!” You practically scream, your eyes rolling back as your nails scratch at his shoulder. He felt impossibly deeper and he quickened his thrusts, your whole body going limp and your mouth letting out incoherent babbles and moans of his name.
He was panting as he held himself up in his elbows to look at your fucked out face, kissing your cheeks and your lower lip.
“You look so pretty like this” He said against your skin as he kept his thrusts steady and deep. "I told you I wanted to look at your pretty face...when you came undone under me."
You felt your skin tingle, your body trembling and that familiar feeling on the pit of your stomach like a fire lighting up.
"The looks you were giving me..." He groaned against your skin, his hips sttutering as his orgasm came closer "I wanted to make those beautiful eyes roll back the moment I saw you" He admitted, giving your neck a harsh bite, definetly leaving a mark.
“Sam!” You moaned out, your hand tangling itself into his hair. “I'm cumming” You warned and he quickened his pace and your head shot back, exposing your throat to him.
“Cum for me beautiful” He said, leaving a hickey just below your jaw.
You unraveled below him with a loud moan of his name, your heels digging into his ass. A few more thrusts and Sam pulled out, stroking his cock one, two, three times until he came over your stomach, groaning and panting your name.
You looked at his face, sweat sticking some hairs on his face, his eyes closed, mouth agape and his hair a mess thanks to your hands.
You smiled in a daze and traced your fingers over his face and he opened his eyes, catching you already looking back at him. He leaned down and kissed you passionately for a couple seconds until he pulled away and stood up to go to your bathroom.
He came back with a wet towel to clean you up, gentle in your sensitive sex then he left the towel on the bathroom sink and layed down on the bed beside you again, pulling you into his chest and kissing the crown of your head.
You hummed as he wrapped his arms around you, massaging your sore muscles.
“That was…” You said, not finishing. No words were able to describe what you felt.
“Yeah, it was” He confirmed, smiling.
You snuggled into his chest, your hand tracing mindless patterns against his skin. Then you started to chuckle and he looked down at you.
“What?” He said with a hint of a laugh behind his tone.
“Your brother must be pissed” You said between laughs and he started to laugh too, feeling his chest vibrating against your cheek as his hand stroked your upper arm.
“I don't care, this, you, was worth it” He said and you looked up at him with a shy smile, not knowing what else to say.
After a while of silence between the two of you you started to think a bit.
“You're leaving town soon, right?” You asked and he hummed an affirmation. You hid your frown from him. “You're welcome back anytime, you know that, right?"
You said but didn't look at his face when you felt him looking down at you and he squeezed your arm as if to say I know.
You started to fall asleep against his steady breathing, your eyes heavy.
As you were almost sleeping you felt him leave a kiss on your forehead.
“I will” He whispered and you smiled to yourself, letting yourself fall asleep in his embrace.
A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. Xoxo
2K notes · View notes
sukunas-wife · 3 months
Note
HI OML I LIVE UR WORKS THEY MAKE ME BAWL MY EYES OUT AH 😭
can you please do sukuna reader and yuji going in the caffe and yuji trying hot chocolate for the first time ?
i literally live you so much <3
🥹 ILL DO IT DO IT FOR BABY YUJI
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“What the hell, why?” Sukuna eyed you suspicious of your question.
“Ryomen Sukuna-” covering your toddlers ears you gave his dad a look. “You walk around shirtless with four arms and two faces at 8 foot whatever everyday, I’m just asking you to down size and lose the second pair of arms for maybe 2 hours.”
Sukuna grumbled crossing his arms over his chest taking his son when he reached out for his dad “Shame I’m the only one who walks around shirtless in this house.” Holding Yuji on one arm the ruffled his boys hair, “What do you say brat? Do we go do whatever your mom wants or do we rip our shirts off?”
“Shirts!” Yuji screamed immediately trying to rip his shirt to copy his already shirtless dad. “That’s my boy!” Sukuna cheered him on when he managed to tear the hem slightly, “We don’t wanna go, two against one remember that parable or something you read a cord of 2 or whatever.” Sukuna turned away from your cold glare propping Yuji on his shoulder “It’s not like we really belong in public anyways.”
You huffed, looking down, sniffling, the tears burning your eyes as they start to roll and you took a shaky breath “Ryo please, I just wanted to spend some time with you and Yuji at the cafe where I first saw you. Yuji hasn’t seen the city and I just wanted one maybe two hours of your time but you won’t even do that..” your shoulders shaking as you tried to not cry, Yuji who was piggy backing on his dad’s broad shoulders pulled his hair “You made mommy cry!”
Sukuna rolled his eyes sighing heavily, “crying won’t solve your problems y/n, I said no.” Yuji pouted tugging he dad hair as if they were reigns to a horse, “daddyyy” he whined and leaned over his dads head to look at him.
Sukuna huffed before trying to gently flip his brat onto the bed “Stop you’re not helping.” Yuji giggled before running over to you, wedging his body between your knees to hug your waist, “It’s okay mommy we can still go, daddy doesn’t have too.” You sniffled rubbing Yuji’s back, “My sweet little Yuji.” Your teary eyes broke Sukuna when he finally looked at you, “FINE. Im killing anyone who gets in my way.” You smiled standing up and taking Yuji’s hand, “Good we’ll be waiting at the entrance.” You placed a quick kiss on Sukuna’s cheek and he just looked at you in disbelief, “You turned my own blood on me with your fanciful tears, disgusting.” He side eyed you as you closed the room door not hearing or seeing him smirk “What a woman.”
He stood there before calling for Uraume to come get his robes ready, he’d be needing smaller attire for the day.
❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️
It didn’t take long for Sukuna to alter his appearance. He stood in a simple wide armed white Robe with a printed belt and plain scarf. On his shoulders was a giggling Yuji who kept reaching up to the passing branches his chubby hands smacking Sakura branches making them shake and fall. On the occasion step Sukuna would purposely shake him to make him hold tighter and scream. You’d smile watching until you got to the city, “let’s hurry! It’s just before lunch.” You hugged Sukuna’s arm, looking up at him with that damn smile, he caved “Hold on brat.”Yuji immediately gripped tightly to his dad’s hair as Sukuna hoisted you up, “I’ll make this quick.”
It felt like a breeze to before you refocused and Sukuna was already putting you down keeping Yuji on his shoulders. “Down.” Yuji bounced on his dad’s shoulders. “No, if I put you down you’re just going to run around.” You smiled at Sukuna placing a hand on his arm, “Sit down with him Ryo I’ll do everything else.” Sukuna looked at you with his usual resting face that looked like a frown, Yuji unknowingly matting his dad’s hair while he played with it. Sukuna caved leaving your side to sit in a corner booth away from everyone, he crossed his arms over his chest after he put Yuji down to sit next to him. Yuji smacked his hands on the table “daddy!” “Hm.” Looking down at his son “That’s man’s talking to mommy!” He stood up in the bench one chubby hand smacked on the table the other chubby finger pointing at a man talking to you, “That’s the cashier brat.” “…. oh…. WHAT ABOUT HIM!” He pointed to man who was now talking to you, you had a forced smile and almost a sympathetic look, “Go bite him.”
There went Yuji throwing himself under the table running to fight his dad’s battles, “for daddy!” Was all you heard before you watched the man in front of you yelp and shake his leg, looking down you saw Yuji clinging to the man’s pant, jaw locked on his thigh almost growling. “Yuji.” You forced back your smile coughing to cover a laugh. “Baby let go.” He side eyed you when you grabbed his sides and he let go, standing up you held Yuji’s hand, “Like I said this is my son and that’s my husband.” The man turned to find Sukuna staring at hin with more than an intimidating look, “forgive me.” The man bowed his left and quickly moved off, you smiled down at Yuji ruffling his messy hair, “My little knight in shining armor hm?” He puffed out his chest smiling “yeah!”
After you grabbed your tray with drinks and let Yuji carry the paper bag of sweets you ordered, you made your way to the booth where Sukuna was staring aimlessly out the window. Watching as Yuji slid into your side of the booth you set the drinks down, “Black coffee with 6 packs of sugar,” you turned to Yuji smiling pulling him into your lap “I got you some special, the waitress has to bring it okay?” He nodded “okay!” He still hadn’t let go of the paper bag Sukuna had been silently eyes as he drank his Coffee, “hand em over.”
You sighed smiling watching your husband try to pry the paper bag from Yuji’s hands, Yuji who slipped off your lap holding the bag to his chest and turning away, “no!”
“Here are your drinks! Two hot chocolates one kids with extra whipped cream.” The waitress quickly left after seeing how your husband was playing tug o war with Yuji who was standing on the booth seat. “Listen brat-” Yuji let the bag go mouth and eyes opening wide as he saw the pile of cream on the short cup, “What’s that?” Bringing his tiny fists to cover his mouth you could see the sparkle in his eyes, “I want you to try it.” He sat himself in your lap reaching for cup that you slowly put in his chubby hands. He spread his fingers over the cup “it’s hot.” “It is, so be careful.” You guided the cup supporting it from below when he tried of drink from it. The first thing to happen was mushing his face into the whipped cream that made you laugh and Sukuna scoffed with a slight smile. Pulling the cup away, “Let’s try to clear some of that up,” you took a spoon scooping out a dent in the whipped cream to see the hot chocolate, bringing to spoon to Yuji he opened his mouth wide. You watched as he closed his mouth and his eyes widened and he clapped his hands “Is good! Daddy! Try!” You both looked at Sukuna, the smile on his face unfaltering as he rested his face against his propped up hand, “You try it first brat.”
Yuji nodded looking determined “I will!” Taking the cup in both hands, your hand guiding the cup, you saw how he stuck his tongue out to test both chocolate first before starting to drink. You looked at Sukuna who looked equally as shocked when your son started to take bigger brinks. When he put the half empty cup down he let out a loud “Aahhh dalichous.” (Delicious) Your smile couldn’t be held back as your peppered the side of his face you could reach with kisses “Look at my little man,” you placed a kiss on his cheek, “so grown you have a little mustache.” He giggled at your kisses shaking in your hold. “Try it daddy…” Yuji wiggled out of your lap just to run to Sukuna, trying to climb into his lap. Sukuna who wanted to resist couldn’t when Yuji looked at him with those big pleading eyes and pulling and on his sleeve, something he definitely learned from you. Sukuna rolling his eyes let Yuji into his lap grumbling about how he better not get comfortable. You watched as Sukuna opened his mouth, his free hand guiding Yuji’s so he could drink from the cup. Yuji’s closed eye smile making Sukuna waver, “it’s… good.” You and Sukuna both watched as Yuji never shifted off his dads lap, holding his cup with two chubby hands drinking and eating pecan cookies until his tummy with round and he fell asleep leaning back against his dads chest. Watching as Ryo held Yuji against his chest, you couldn’t help but awe.
The rest of your visit with your husband was filled with Yuji’s soft snoring, as you both talked quietly about how much things had changed, Sukuna suggesting another child, preferably another boy. You rolled your eyes and would’ve swatted him if Yuji wouldn’t have been cradled against him. Soon enough you all got up ready to go. The quiet snores because Sukuna had fixed Yuji to let his chest on his, and his head tucked between his neck and shoulder. “You’ll stay warm like this.”
Your walk home was peaceful, Yuji was sleeping, drooling on his daddy without a care in the world and you were hugging Sukuna from his side. His free arm moving to hug your waist and keep you warm and with him, he looked down at you, that mischievous smirk, “So, about that second son-“ he was hit with falling snow that had you laughing so hard you had to stop the breath, “We’ll see.”
🖤❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️🖤
Ty everyone and for my tag list! My Brains been everywhere but i try!
Sorry it’s so long! I need some background lol
@cyder-puff @domainofmarie @satorisgirl @sad-darksoul the other 2 wouldn’t let me tag!
I’m sorry 🤍 but tyty for everything
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