#I could use a juice box right now
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tired-cryptid-club · 11 months ago
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Even as papa, Copia still needs floor-time TM
(With a juice box and his rats of course)
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floral-hex · 8 months ago
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tl;dr: some science dorks poorly wrote a book about an interesting study but I’m too tired and grumpy to read it, much to my therapist’s chagrin
told my counselor I only read around 30 pages of a book he lent me to read for therapy. I’ve just been so overwhelmed with moving and depression and I just don’t feel like sitting down in my free time to read a book I don’t really have any interest in. Feels shitty, like I’m making excuses. I guess they are excuses. That’s not really a bad word, just a word that usually has negative connotations. Whatever, anyway, he kept telling me “there’s also an audiobook.” THEN LEND ME THE AUDIOBOOK! I’m not gonna pirate this book! I dont want to go sign up for a library card right now(I mean, yeah, I need to, just… ya know… takes a chunk of time I don’t feel like dedicating right now). Just… blegh. Definitely an insignificant problem in the grand scheme of things, but still annoying and still makes me feel like a failure.
It’s an interesting book, but the way it’s written feels so… basic. Like reading a high school english paper. I dunno, it just reads very amateurish. Really cool info and quotes, but just packaged so blandly. By-the-numbers sentence structures, like a student learning how to compose their first essay. “And then this happened. And then this happened. And then…” filler filler filler filler. Not that filler is bad, you gotta connect the info in a congruent way, but this is asbestos level filler! You’re padding it out with bad stuff! It’s making me sick! I told my therapist it was bland and he said “well, it’s a published study, so…’” and did that face like “what did you expect?” Listen, it’s not presented as a standard study! If it was just the facts with no flavor, I could understand that, I’d honestly like that a lot, but this book is presented as a self-help book wrapped in a (to me) very interesting story about the lives of multiple generations of seemingly random people, from adolescents to old age, and what they’ve learned about happiness along the way. You can make nonfiction books engaging, my dude! You’ve got this cool, generations long study on what it means to be happy, you’ve got a goldmine of compelling quotes and stories, and they still write a book that reads like a middle school text book! Bland flavor! Like plain mayonnaise! There’s no zazz! They needed to hire a ghost zazzer!
Also, not a fan of self help books. No matter how helpful, my brain just always lumps them into the category reserved for being told “just go for a walk,” “try to think positive.” Yeah, all good info, but it never clicks with me. Like the the quote, “there’s a difference between knowing the path and walking the path.” My therapist even says I don’t react to being told this stuff, that i actually have to experience it and learn it first hand. But still… he hands me a 300 page self help book 😕 ah well, whatever…
Anyway, I’m probably wrong in my review and I’m a fraud and secretly, unknowingly, actually hate books 🤷🏻‍♂️
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that-house · 1 year ago
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Potion Vendor FAQs:
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.
Do you sell love potions? No.
Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.
Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.
Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.
Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.
So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.
Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.
Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.
Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.
Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.
Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.
Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.
So can you make poison potions? No.
Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.
Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.
How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.
You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.
Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.
Road trip? He lives in Seattle.
Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.
For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.
And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.
Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.
Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.
You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.
So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.
Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.
Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.
Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.
What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.
You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.
Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.
Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.
Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.
Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.
Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.
Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.
When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.
When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.
Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.
Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.
Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.
Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.
I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.
How did you know that? …I’m psychic.
Yeah? No.
You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.
Did you just miss a turn? Probably.
Are you sure we’re not lost? No.
You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.
Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.
Would it help if I said it was? It would.
Is it getting dark? Soon.
Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.
Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.
Should we find a motel? Sure.
One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.
You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.
Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.
Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.
How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.
How many beds are there? One.
Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.
Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.
How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.
Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.
For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.
Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.
Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.
Are you asleep? …
Yes? …
Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …
What should I say? …
Did you know that I had a really nice day? …
Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …
Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …
Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …
Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …
Did you know that you’re warm? …
Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.
Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.
Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.
What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!
Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.
You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!
Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.
Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.
You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.
Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.
Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.
How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.
Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.
150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.
Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.
And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!
Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.
And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.
So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.
So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!
Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.
Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.
Are you done eating? Yep.
Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.
How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.
Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.
Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.
What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.
Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.
Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…
Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.
Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?
When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.
Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.
What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.
Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.
What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.
Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.
Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.
What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.
I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …
Did he get his body modified? …
What sort of surgery could do that? …
How is he still alive? …
Did a fucking wizard do it? …
WHY? …
HOW? …
Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …
I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.
Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.
Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.
Can we do that? Of course.
Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.
Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.
Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.
Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.
How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.
How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.
That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.
Wanna fuck? God yes.
Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.
…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.
How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.
How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!
Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.
When will we get there? Noon-ish.
Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.
Is this Seattle? Looks like it.
Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.
Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.
So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.
Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.
So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!
How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.
Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.
Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.
Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!
Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!
Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.
I just caught this, but, FAQ? …
As in Frequently Asked Questions? …
How many times is Frequent? …
Have you known everything all along? …
How many times have you done this? …
Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!
And you say that every time? Yes. I do.
Do you love me? Yes.
How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.
Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.
Can I go now? Please don’t.
But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.
How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.
What happens at the end of this? It begins again.
And do I get replaced with someone else? …
Do I get replaced? …Yes.
Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!
You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.
How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?
Did you know my name is Alice? …
Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …
Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …
Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!
Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.
Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.
Be good to the next me, okay? I will.
Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.
Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.
What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.
What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!
What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.
Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.
What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.
What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!
So I should keep repeating something? Yes!
I love you? I love you too.
I love you? Again.
I love you? Keep going.
I love you? I’ll just let you talk.
I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!
I love you? Now can you make it a statement?
I love you.
You did it?
I did it!
You did it!
We broke the loop.
What now?
Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.
And then?
Whatever we want, forever.
I think I’d like that.
Remember that song from the beginning?
The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?
We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?
Let me off, let me in
Let others battle
We don’t need to battle
And we both shall win
Pressed in my palm
Was a stone from the beach
The perfect circle
Gave a moment of peace
Now I’m lying on the floor
Like I’m not worth a chair
I close my eyes and imagine
I’m not there.
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hoseoksluna · 3 months ago
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LITTLE JUICE | JJK
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc
genre: smut, pwp
rating: 18+
summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.
word count: 6.4k
warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.
luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.
luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.
𓂃 ౨ৎ
taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 
@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 
@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo
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The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door. 
The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you. 
No BS by Chris Brown.
The song that started it all.
Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.
You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice. 
TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air. 
You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you. 
Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind. 
Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek. 
He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection. 
You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly. 
You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel. 
Good thing you’re not a normal girl. 
You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year. 
“You scared the shit out of me.” 
Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes. 
Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft. 
Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.
It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that. 
You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you. 
Your hips. 
A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it. 
He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration. 
You’re in trouble. 
Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?” 
Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones. 
“Did you get wet for me?” 
A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom. 
For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it. 
Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it. 
But… you can’t divert his attention from it. 
You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”
His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood. 
He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin. 
“Mango? You always get Taro with me.” 
The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing. 
Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them. 
A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you. 
You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water. 
And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days. 
You place your hands on top of his. 
A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves. 
It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure. 
Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more. 
You hump him. 
“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.” 
This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers. 
But the moment is ruined all too soon. 
A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror. 
You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you. 
Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life. 
A yearning to kiss him consumes you. 
“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.” 
You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss. 
Smart man. 
“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.” 
He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties. 
“They’re gone.” 
And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine. 
A hungry look is wrung into his features. 
The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound. 
He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him. 
Five torturous days. 
“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.” 
You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime. 
The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again. 
He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact. 
You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you— 
“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?” 
Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners. 
You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks. 
Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip. 
“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.” 
You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions. 
He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips. 
“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”
And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves. 
You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all. 
And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you. 
“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.” 
Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you. 
You leak for him, nonetheless. 
Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite. 
“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.” 
Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves. 
But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does. 
Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory. 
The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks. 
Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing. 
Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you. 
Not even as you come down from your high. 
Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself. 
Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you. 
“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.” 
Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle. 
“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?” 
You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit. 
Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast. 
“Whose pussy is this, princess?” 
In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth. 
There it is. 
“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?” 
You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks. 
Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire. 
“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.” 
His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat. 
And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth. 
You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too. 
You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him. 
You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking. 
“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 
You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you. 
“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is. 
Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans. 
He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over. 
Your life is over.
“Dada’s pussy always so tight.” 
He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips. 
“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.” 
And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing. 
The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock. 
And he doesn’t pull away. 
He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off. 
You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round. 
Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.” 
The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.
“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.” 
Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.” 
His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.
“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place. 
The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him. 
“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?” 
You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment. 
“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around. 
An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick. 
He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too. 
At home, you fuck him hard for it. 
With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can’t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat. 
He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room. 
And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right. 
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fairy-angel222 · 1 year ago
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BIRTHDAY SEX ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
ft. jjk men [gojo, nanami, geto and toji]
—how they fuck you on your birthday
cw: smut, pussy eating, praise, soft sex, breeding, riding, daddy kink, etc
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Gojo. Mr take you out and eat you out
Showers you with gifts and presents. Somehow managing to spoil you more than usual. Buying you any and everything, waking up to gift bags upon gift boxes of designer shoes, clothes, bags, jewelry everything. 
Smiles as he watches you groggily rub your hand over your eye, stretching with a yawn. “S..satoru? What’s all this?” He grinned, “C’mon baby, you’re not dumb. It’s f’you. All of it.” 
You smile softly, “Baby, you know i love your gifts but this is expensive.” 
Gojo shrugged, “Baby, it was nothing. Literally. Pocket change.” Walking up to the side of the bed and kissing your forehead. “Now, hush let me treat this pussy right.” 
You whimpered softly, Gojo positioning himself between your legs, spreading your thighs and groaning at the sight. “Gonna do her so good on her day.” Using his teeth to pull off the pink pace, his tongue immediately licking a stripe up your wet folds. 
You let out a moan, your hand tangling in your boyfriend’s hair and your back arching with a mewl when Gojo’s tongue swirled around your clit. “Satoru, nnh.” tugging at white strands as two of his fingers dipped into your tight hole. 
“S’ good baby— ah, feels so good Satoru.” 
Gojo hummed into your wetness, “Always taste so fucking good, could feast on your pussy for days.” Diving back in with a groan, sensually lapping up your juices as he made out with your cunt. Sharp chin dripping with slick as his fingers worked in and out of you, curling them just right with every flick of his tongue on your clit. 
Gojo smirked against your skin, watching you moan as your hold on his hair tightened, rolling your hips into his face for more. “Satoru, ah— close- gonna cum f’you.” you cried out softly, his hold on your thighs tightening when your legs began to tremble. Keeping you from closing them as your eyes shut with a mewl, your lips parting in moans of his name as his tongue passionately worked your pussy just how he knew you liked it. 
“Go on sweet thing, make a mess on my face f’me. This is me wishing you a happy birthday.” his tongue sucking on your clit while the pace of his fingers sped up. Your breathing heavier as your orgasm washed over you. “O-oh baby, ‘m— fuck.” Clenching down hard before your sopping pussy was gushing onto his hand and into his awaiting mouth. 
“Hmm, that’s it. That’s my good girl, gonna fuck you real good now.”
Nanami. Mr slow shots in bed
Wakes you up with something he knows you’d love. His arm around your waist, kissing softly down your neck as he fucked into you slowly. His hips rolling so perfectly into your ass so that his cock grazed against all your spots.
You moaned softly as you woke up, tiredly blinking your eyes open with a whimper. “Kento,” 
“Morning sweetheart, happy birthday.”
You moaned once more, the feeling of your boyfriend’s cock grinding into your insides making your head fuzzy, reaching back to grab hold of his hand as you mewled. “Th-thank you, baby, nnh,” 
Nanami smiled into you, his other hand reaching forward to rub your clit in slow circular motions. Groaning against your skin when you tightened down on him, your moans gaining volume when he forced his thrusts deeper. 
“Gonna treat you so good today, anything you want, it’s yours.” he promised, watching as you only nodded with a whimper. Your head resting on his shoulder as you pushed back cooser into him. Your ass flush against his hips and his chest right up on your back. You couldn’t help the way your eyes shut in pleasure, his name sliding so prettily off your tongue as he brought you closer to orgasm.
“Kento— ‘m close.” you moaned, squeezing his hand when he sped up the circles on your clit. “Cum for me darling, cum for me as much as you’d like.” he encouraged. Your body trembling with a string of moans as you creamed his cock, your pussy clenching as it leaked its wetness.
“Mmm, so good baby.” Nanami praised, still fucking gently into you to bring himself to release. 
Geto. Mr breed you full
Gives you his special birthday creampie. Fucking into your sopping cunt till you’re filling the room with your moans and cries.
“Suguru— so good. Love it s’much.”
Geto hummed, “I know you do, gonna stuff you full of my cum for the cherry on top.” His hips slamming into yours passionately as he kissed down your stomach. “gonna breed my birthday girl full.”
You let out a mewl, “Suguru.” Your vision clouding white and your toes curling in ecstasy as your body quivered. Moaning out loudly as Geto’s cock fucked into your gummy walls. “‘M so close—”
“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock birthday girl? Look s’ beautiful under me.”
You let out a shaky cry, your legs shaking as you clenched down on his girth. A loud chant of his name incoherently falling past your lips as you came on his cock, eyes rolling back and your hips arched. “F-fuck.” Your pussy gushing uncontrollably onto his cock. 
“That’s it baby, that’s a good girl, gon fill you up now. Give you that birthday filling.”  He grunted, thrusts rhythmless as he bottomed out inside you. Spilling hot ropes of his sticky cum onto your spasming walls. 
“Happy birthday baby.” Geto groaned, allowing your tightness to milk him dry before placing a soft kiss to your lips. 
Toji. Mr ride me till you can’t 
Wants you to sit on his cock and ride until you’re cumming uncontrollably.
“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re dumb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock.” 
You whimpered, bouncing yourself up and down the older man’s cock. Chasing high after high as you rolled your hips onto him. 
Toji groaned, “It’s your birthday baby, fuck yourself like you deserve it.” landing a slap to your ass and watching as you mewled loudly. “Th-thank you daddy,” your hands on his shoulders as you stuffed your cunt full of his thick cock. “Nng fuck, so good.”
“There we go, this is how you treat yourself baby. Looking so pretty up there.” he praised, his hands behind his head to let you do all the work. You moaned, your pussy clenching down on his girth as you dug your nails into his flesh. “D-daddy—” you cried out, head falling back as you felt yourself getting close again.
“‘M right here baby, give daddy another one.” he smirked, watching the throthy ring of slick form around the base of his cock as you bottomed out deep, his tip piercing deliciously against your gummy walls. “F-fuck, i love you so much,” you whimpered, your stomach tightened and the movement of your hips becoming sloppy. 
“I love you more baby.”
You let out a final cry of his name, a silent scream falling past your lips as you squirted messily for him, teary eyes meeting his with a mewl. 
“There you go. Feels good being a birthday girl don’t it?”
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airaatsu · 3 months ago
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Heyy could you maybe write smut about min-su x fem!reader x se-mi? Where maybe Thanos like made fun of him before for being a virgin, and min-su now feels insecure so reader and se-mi decided to comfort him and it ends w them having a threesome?
No pressure if you don't wanna write/don't feel comfortable!! Have a good day/night ! :)
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«—Se-mi x Fem!Reader x Min-su—»
⁍A Helping hand⁌
Summary: Minsu is getting bullied by Thanos and his lackey about being a virgin. Now it's up to you and Se-mi to change that;)
A/N: I wrote this in a hurry, so please tell me if there are any errors in my writings! This is also going to be the first fic I post here, so enjoy!<3 (ALSO! I got the MDNI banner from cafekitsune! Many thanks♡♡)
Warnings: NSFW, oral(fem receiving), p in v, quickie in the bathroom, SMUTTTTT
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“Min-su.” Se-mi called. You both walked back to your corner of the place after receiving dinner from the guards. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking a seat beside Min-su, who just stared down at the food placed on his lap. He looked a bit more down than usual.
“What, did one of those assholes over there pick on you again?” Se-mi nodded her head in the direction where Thanos and that annoying lackey of his are before taking her seat beside you, taking a bite on her bread with a slight frown on her face. Her frown only deepened when he didn’t respond, she was about to stand up and have a word with the two if You hadn’t held her back.
“Hey, calm down.” You let out a sigh before turning to face Min-su. “Alright, what happened? What did they do now?” You asked, letting go of Se-mi’s arm once she sat back down beside you. “It’s alright.. they didn’t do anything.” Min-su replied, opening the plastic wrapper of the bread before taking a bite.
“Then what?” Se-mi looked like she was getting a bit impatient, she was practically shooting daggers at Thanos and Nam-gyu. Flipping them off whenever they looked her way. “They know I’m a virgin..” Min-su whispered, his shoulders tensing up a bit now that he confessed what was bothering him. “Okay.. and?” You followed, raising a brow at him. “Nothing’s wrong with being a virgin, Min-su. The only people who worries about that kind of thing are those brainless idiots back there.” Se-mi added. Pointing at Thanos and Nam-gyu, who seemed too engrossed with their conversations to notice..
“They said I would die being a virgin, especially in this place.” Min-su continued, now fidgeting at his the end of his jacket sleeves. You and Se-mi shared a look before a small smirk formed on your lips. “We can change that.” Se-mi smirked, finishing her own juice box with one go. “W-What? What do you mean?” That seemed to catch his attention enough, staring at the both of you with wide eyes. You could tell how surprised he is. “Well... How about this.” You leaned in closer, your breath tickling the skin of his neck. “Meet us at the bathroom later when the lights turn off. M’kay?” You leaned back, chuckling at how adorable he looked right now, all flushed and flustered. “You okay there, Min-su? You look as red as a tomato.” Se-mi teased, her smirk turning into a grin.
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After that exchange, time flew fast, before you know it, you’re already stuffed in one of the bathroom stalls. Sitting on Min-su’s lap, for someone who seemed so timid all the time, You never knew how strong his grip could be. His hands were firmly holding you by your hips, keeping you seated on his cock while he sat on the closed toilet seat. You would’ve teased him by now, how he looked so adorable even like this, whimpering at the slightest movement and touches if it weren’t for Se-mi who has you moaning and gasping, she was kneeling down between your legs. Keeping your legs open with her hands on your thighs, sucking and licking your overstimulated clit in a way that has you coming over and over. Pair that with Min-su being inside you, thrusting up into your tight heat while those adorable whimpers left his lips.
“She feels good, doesn’t she, Min-su?” Se-mi pulled back, replacing her lips with her thumb. Rubbing you sensitive bundle of nerves while Min-su continued to fuck you. His head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent while also trying ro suppress his own noises. “Look at you, we’d have our own mini waterfall by now from how wet you are.” Se-mi laughed, pulling her hand away just when your about to cum again before standing up. Making you whine out. “Se-mi.. w-why—” “Shh, don’t worry, princess.” She cut you off, letting her pants fall on the floor, pooling down at her feet. Her hand ran through your hair before stopping on the back of your head, gently guiding your head towards her crotch. “What are you waiting for, princess? Go ahead and suck like a good girl.” She smirked, placing her right leg on your shoulder to give you more access. Too fucked out to say anything, you just complied, pressing your lips on her pussy, your hands eventually finding their way on his hips, holding them to keep you steady on Min-su’s lap. You sucked and licked, practically making out with her pussy. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head whenever Min-su would hit that spot inside you with his cock. Moaning into her pussy, sending vibrations through her, making Se-mi moan out as well.
“T-Tight..” Min-su whispered, groaning into your neck as he continued to thrust up into you. “Hm? You like it when it’s the two of us, huh, Princess?” Se-mi cooed. Biting her lower lip, sucking in a breath as she grinded against you faces. Bucking her hips against your lips. You couldn’t do anything but moan and whimper, you didn’t think having a threesome with both Se-mi and Min-su would feel this good.. this experience just proved you wrong. Min-su’s cock felt so good inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over.. it made your brain turn into mush, and with Se-mi grinding into your mouth like this, it made you see stars. “Fuck, yeah, just like that.. you’re doing so good, Princess.. just a bit more.” She murmured.
“’m gonna cum..” Min-su whimpered, his thrusts getting more erratic, “M-Me too.” Se-mi breathes out. And with a few more thrusts. You were cumming on Min-su’s lap. Making a mess on his cock. Moaning softly when you felt his warm seed fill you up. His dick twitching inside of you. While Se-mi came on your mouth, making a mess on your face. Well, you looked and is too fucked out to even care.. let’s just hope the guards or other players won’t find this mess you made in this stall.. the guard standing guard outside probably already heard your shameless moans and groans. Oh well, not like they’d care.
What’s important now, is that Min-su is no longer a virgin, no reason for Thanos and Nam-gyu to tease him now.^^
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ari-ana-bel-la · 4 days ago
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Hi gorgeous,
can you do Lando with teenager daughter who has diabetes or epilepsy and something happens at a race weekend and so Lando looks after her the whole time and makes sure she’s okay,
looking forward to it x
Sweet as sugar
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The paddock buzzed with energy as the race weekend in Silverstone kicked off. The familiar scent of burnt rubber and gasoline filled the air, mixed with the excited chatter of fans and the occasional roaring of engines in the distance. It was one of Lando’s favorite places in the world—one that had felt like home for so many years.
But this weekend, his mind wasn’t on lap times or race strategy. It was on his daughter, Yn.
At sixteen, Yn was used to life in the paddock. She had grown up surrounded by F1, walking through garages, watching races from the pit wall, and sneaking into drivers' debriefs when she was little. But growing up in this world didn’t mean it was always easy—especially with her diabetes.
Lando had been overprotective of her ever since she was diagnosed as a child. He tried to act normal about it, but the truth was, he always worried. And now, as she walked beside him, scrolling on her phone, he glanced down at her every few seconds, just to make sure she was okay.
"You’ve checked your blood sugar, right?" he asked casually, adjusting the cap on his head.
Yn sighed, lowering her phone. "Dad, I literally just did."
"When?"
"Like, five minutes ago. It’s fine."
Lando squinted at her. "What’s the number?"
She rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone to show him. "5.8. Happy?"
He nodded, pretending not to be relieved. "Very."
Yn smirked. "You worry too much."
"Yeah, well," he muttered, "I have to. You’re my little girl."
She made a face. "Dad, I’m sixteen."
"You’re still little to me."
Before she could argue, they reached the McLaren motorhome, where the team was gathered. Oscar was already inside, sipping on a drink and reviewing some notes with the engineers.
"Hey, Yn!" he greeted with a wave.
"Hey, Oscar," she replied, sitting on one of the chairs and stretching her legs.
Lando sat down beside her, watching as she lazily scrolled through Instagram. Everything seemed fine, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen.
And unfortunately, he was right.
---
The first sign that something was wrong came a few hours later, during FP2. Lando was in the middle of a long run, focused on his pace, when his race engineer’s voice came through the radio.
"Lando, Yn is in the McLaren motorhome. She’s feeling a bit off. Wants to let you know."
Lando’s hands tightened on the wheel. His heart immediately jumped into his throat.
"What’s wrong?" he asked quickly.
"She said she’s a little shaky. The team’s keeping an eye on her."
Lando was already making a decision before they could say anything else. "I’m boxing this lap."
His engineer hesitated. "Are you sure? We still have—"
"I said I’m boxing," Lando snapped, already heading toward the pit lane.
As soon as he pulled into the garage and hopped out of the car, he ignored the confused looks from the mechanics and jogged straight to the motorhome.
When he entered, he found Yn sitting on one of the couches, looking pale. Her hands were slightly trembling, and she was chewing on a glucose tablet.
"Yn," he breathed, kneeling in front of her. "What happened?"
She looked up at him, her face slightly flushed. "I think my blood sugar dropped too fast. I felt fine earlier, but then I got all shaky, and my vision went weird."
Lando ran a hand through his hair, his heart pounding. "Did you check it?"
She nodded, holding out her phone again. "It was 3.1. It’s going up now."
He exhaled sharply. "Shit, Yn."
"I’m fine, Dad," she reassured, trying to smile. "I just need a minute."
But Lando wasn’t convinced. He stood up and immediately turned to one of the McLaren team members. "Get me another juice box and something with fast-acting carbs."
"Already on it," they replied, hurrying off.
Lando turned back to Yn, sitting beside her this time. He watched her closely, still frowning. "Did you feel it coming?"
She hesitated. "Kind of. I thought I was just tired."
His stomach twisted. "You should have told me earlier."
"Dad, you were driving," she pointed out.
"That doesn’t matter," he shot back. "I don’t care if I’m in the middle of a qualifying lap, Yn. You call me. Immediately."
She sighed. "It wasn’t that bad."
"It could’ve been."
She opened her mouth to argue, but the worried look on his face stopped her. She knew that expression too well.
"You were scared," she murmured.
Lando swallowed, glancing away for a second before nodding. "Yeah."
A McLaren team member returned, handing her another juice box and some crackers. Lando made sure she ate all of it before speaking again.
"I don’t want you wandering around the paddock alone today," he said firmly.
Yn frowned. "Dad—"
"No," he cut her off. "I mean it. You stay with me or with someone I trust. I don’t want this happening again when no one’s around."
She looked frustrated, but deep down, she understood. "Fine."
He relaxed slightly, but he still wasn’t done worrying. "And you need to check your blood sugar more often. Even if you feel fine."
"Okay," she agreed softly.
Lando let out a breath. "Good."
There was a brief silence before she nudged him. "You abandoned FP2 for me, didn’t you?"
His lips twitched. "Of course I did."
She grinned. "That’s kind of badass, not gonna lie."
Lando rolled his eyes. "I just love you, idiot."
Yn leaned her head against his shoulder. "I love you too, overprotective dad."
For the rest of the weekend, Lando did not leave her side.
He made sure she checked her blood sugar constantly. He made sure she ate properly. He even carried an emergency snack pack in his racing suit, just in case.
Yn found it both annoying and endearing.
"Dad, I promise, I’m fine," she said for the hundredth time, standing beside him in the paddock as they watched Oscar’s FP3 run on the screen.
Lando crossed his arms. "Yeah? And what’s your blood sugar right now?"
She sighed dramatically but pulled out her phone. "6.2."
He nodded approvingly. "Okay, good."
Yn smirked. "Do I get a prize?"
"Your prize is me not lecturing you."
"Damn. What a reward."
Lando gave her a look, but his eyes were still filled with warmth. "Brat."
The weekend continued with him hovering over her at every turn. Even after the race, when he finished P3 and had a podium to celebrate, his first instinct was to find her.
And when he spotted her in the McLaren hospitality, watching him with a proud smile, he grinned back and pointed directly at her before stepping onto the podium.
Because at the end of the day, no trophy or champagne shower mattered more to him than his daughter.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.
-🩷🎀
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captain-huggy-bear · 2 months ago
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Little Moments
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Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Jack occasionally making more mature jokes cause he's just a silly guy
Summary: Jack finds out he's going to be a dad for the first time, maybe he's a little overexcited aka a collection of snapshots throughout your pregnancy.
Notes: Nonnie gave me the confidence to try writing Jack, I'm hoping it's okay...also the jelly cat mentioned is here
Nappies = diapers
Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)
Writing Masterlist
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When they ask you to take a pregnancy test at the hospital because you've been violently sick for 2 weeks, you scoff. You can't be pregnant because Jack and you haven't been trying and you've been using two forms of contraception. It's nigh on impossible for you to be pregnant, statistically speaking it's just not going to happen.
It's not that either of you don't want children, god knows you do, but you're recently married and you wanted some time to settle into that role and dynamic, the new house as well, without an additional person...especially because you knew without a doubt that once you had one, Jack would want another baby, and another, and another. You'd never be just Mr and Mrs Hughes again, it would be Mr and Mrs Hughes and their children.
It's the amount of care that you've both put in to avoiding pregnancy that makes you so certain you're not. So you expect the test to come back negative.
But, there you are...sat on the edge of a hospital bed, slippers almost falling off your feet because Jack couldn't find yours so he brought you his, staring at a pregnancy test with two clear, solid lines.
Pregnant.
Pregnant when statistically it should be improbably, nigh on impossible. Pregnant when you've been married a month...pregnant because your husband is clearly ridiculously fertile. Of course Jack would be, the amount he wants kids and family, it was probably some genetic advantage. Of course you'd marry the one guy who could knock you up when actively trying not to do so.
You don't look up when he enters your hospital room, arms full of snacks and drinks, cap on backwards keeping his hair out of his baby blue eyes. He looks far too cozy and far too sweet for a man who's about to put your body through some extreme changes.
"So, I got you some M&Ms and a orange juice..." Jack trails off noticing the way you're sat, hunched over, staring at your hands, "You okay, baby?"
"Um, I..."
"What's wrong?" Jack's quick to drop everything on the hospital bed, moving between your legs, hands smoothing up and down your thighs. His eyes dip down to the test in your hands, the two strong lines he can see, so strong that there's very little doubt what the result is. The dots starting to connect for him, you being sick for 2 weeks straight, you being tired all the time, wanting to eat foods you normally wouldn't...the ridiculous amount of sex you had on your honeymoon even though you both were using protection, "Are...are you..."
"Yeah..." You finally meet his eyes, the hopefully little look on his face makes you feel mildly better because you can see how hard he's trying to contain his excitement. It's clear from the way he bites his bottom lip, from the way Jack's fingers grip your thighs to stabilise himself.
"Well, fuck..." Even as he says it there's a little smile starting at the corners of his mouth, teeth starting to show, eyes starting to crinkle.
"Yeah,"
There's a beat of silence. You processing the fact that right now there is a human being growing inside you, part you, part Jack and him watching you for your reaction. Jack can't say he's not nervous, not when you don't look overjoyed and it's that apprehension that has him trying to get a laugh out of you.
"Guess I have strong swimmers, huh?"
"Jack!" You whack his shoulder with your hand and he catches it, thumb stroking over your wedding band even as you glare at him. He can't help but stand a little closer, your legs pushing further apart so he can fit.
"What? C'mon, that's impressive right? Condoms, the pill and you still got pregnant?" He's grinning at you proudly, like it's a badge of honour to have managed to knock you up despite trying to avoid that happening at all costs.
You groan out loud, head falling to Jack's chest, forehead pressing into the centre of his hoodie. His hands come up to the back of your head, stroking over your hair soothingly before trailing over your shoulders, down your back. He's gentle, soft with it and had you been able to see you would have seen his expression shift to one of anxious worry, apprehension at your less than excited reaction.
"A...are you...are you not happy, baby?" He's scared that you'll turn around and tell him you don't want the baby, that this isn't what you want. Sure you've talked about the possibility of kids in the future, but neither of you were expecting to have this happen right now. It's a lot for anyone, especially for the person who's body is doing all the hard work. He'd understand if you weren't happy, even though he desperately wants you to be.
"I...I'm just shocked. I want a baby with you, of course I do, you'd be such a good dad...but, I guess I wasn't planning on it right now and I'm..." You're mumbling into his chest as he strokes down your back, your arms wrapping around his waist tight to give you some sense of comfort as your entire world is turned upside down by the reality that you're going to be a mum sooner rather than later.
"You're?"
"Scared...what if I do something wrong? What if I'm a bad mum?"
"Angel, look at me," You finally look up at him, chin resting on his sternum and he looks down at you like you're talking crazy, big blue eyes wide and honest, "You are going to be amazing. You're going to be the best mum...and we're going to have a baby!"
It's his excitement, the grin that reaches Jack's eyes that has you finally cracking a smile up at him. That familiar giddy sensation of joy filling your chest because you're having a baby with Jack...with your husband and yeah, maybe this is sooner than you would have liked, but you still wanted a baby with him and...and he's so excited and he's so good with kids and you'd give him an entire hockey team of babies if he asked.
"Yeah, I hope they have your eyes." You smile up at him and suddenly all that fear, all that apprehension that you weren't going to be happy about this goes, suddenly he knows that it's going to be all good, all okay.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Mmm, you have such pretty eyes."
"Well, I hope they look like you...my pretty wife....and I'll teach them how to skate, and how to play hockey, oh and take them out on the lake in the summer!"
Suddenly it doesn't feel quite so scary, with Jack rambling about all the things he's going to do with your child and how he can't wait to tell his parents and his brothers. Leaning against him, just looking up and watching how excited he is, puts to bed any fear because you're not doing this alone, you've got your husband and it'll be okay.
Jack's got you. Both of you.
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"What's that?"
"The results..." The envelope shakes in your hands as Jack comes in from the cold, taking his hat off and throwing his puffer jacket over the back of a chair.
"The...the sex of the baby?" You'd done a blood test 2 weeks ago to find out the sex of the baby, too eager to wait another 2 months for the ultrasound to be able to tell.
"Mmhmmm...I'm too nervous, you open it!" You shove the envelope into Jack's hands. Even though you'll be happy with a boy or a girl, there's something about the anticipation that has your stomach in knots. Were you going to be like Ellen and have a million baby boys or would you be the exact opposite and only have girls or would you end up having both at some point?
You watch him carefully, hands at your mouth, nervously biting on a nail as he rips open the envelope and pulls out the letter. His eyes scan the text quickly, giving very little away until...until there's a shift, a raising of his eyebrows followed by a bright grin as he looks at you.
"We're...we're having a girl..."
"A girl?"
"A girl!" He's so excited that the letter is dropped to the floor almost as quickly as his own knees fall to the ground in front of you with such a resounding smack that you wince on his behalf. He's pressing his cheek to your tummy in an instant, even though it's not very large yet at all, barely a noticeable bump.
"Hey, baby girl..." You can't help the tears that start to form as Jack starts to talk to your belly, to the baby, to your baby girl, "It's your daddy here...I'm going to teach you how to play hockey and we're going to get you in the NHL, show all those boys what for, right?" Your hands find their way to Jack's hair, stroking through it as he talks to your belly, his arms wrapped tight around your hips.
"Not the PWHL?"
"Uh, we're a family of record breakers, angel. She's going to the NHL like Manon Rheaume and she's going to be there until she retires." He grins up at you, teeth showing as you brush a strand of hair off his forehead and back out of the way.
"What if she doesn't want to play hockey?"
"Then I'll love her anyway..." He turns back to your belly, talking in a soft, sweet tone, "don't worry, baby girl, you can do whatever you want. I don't care if you hate hockey, as long as you're happy..."
You can't help the tear that slides down your cheek because how lucky are you? How lucky is your baby girl? To have a dad who doesn't care if she hate everything he loves, as long as she's happy, as long as she's healthy...god, she's so loved already.
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"Okay, don't look, close your eyes!" You roll your eyes underneath Jack's palms.
"You're covering them, why would I need to close them?!"
"Just do it, angel!"
"Fine!" You close your eyes beneath his palms, trusting him to keep you from walking into a wall as he guides you through the house from the living room all the way to wherever his final destination is.
"Lift your foot, baby." He helps guide you up the staircase, hands on your hips that had started to grow wider as you progressed through your pregnancy. He always had a hand on you these days. He was trusting that your eyes were still closed as he ushered you up each step.
When you reach the top of the stairs his hands return to covering your eyes and you shuffle down the corridor until he tells you to stop. You listen to Jack opening a door, probably propping it open before his hands find yours, tugging you forward and to the threshold.
"Okay, open your eyes, baby." You practically gasp when you do, Jack standing proudly in the centre of a nursery. A nursery that was empty all of one week ago, as if he'd somehow clicked his fingers and filled it in an instant.
The walls are a soft pink, stereotypically girlie but you like it, you like that he was willing to make the nursery feminine for your baby girl, just as much as you know he'd change it if your girl decided she hated pink.
The crib is set up by the window, soft curtains diming the sunshine outside just enough. The walls have photos of you and Jack, a few from the start of your pregnancy, your wedding. There are photos of the rest of the family and some empty frames clearly waiting for photos of your baby girl when she arrives. He's even put a few copies of your first ultrasound up.
There's a rocking chair in the corner next to a small bookshelf already filled with books, a space for you to sit with your baby when you're nursing or to read her to sleep when she's being testy. A changing table is already stocked with nappies, baby wipes and powder.
It's sweet and girlish and so so lovely because Jack knows you've been worried about having the nursery done even though you have like 6 months until the baby comes. He knows you've been worried it would get put off because he's away a lot for the season. You'd been stressed that the baby might come without having a space to properly stay.
"How did you..."
"I got the guys to help, last weekend when you went out with my mom. That was a distraction!" He grins at you proud of himself, "Nico, Dawson, Luke, Timo and Jesper came round, we got it all sorted. I didn't want you to be worrying about it anymore, baby."
"Is that...is that why you wouldn't let me in here?" You're feeling teary already, hormones running high and emotions always on a knife's edge. It's so so sweet that he did it, even with months left, the fact he knew it was bothering you and decided to fix it even with his busy schedule? You didn't think it was possible to fall more in love with him, but it seems he's proven you wrong again.
"Yeah, didn't want to ruin the surprise and I had a few more bits to get so it was perfect."
"Jack..." You sigh out at him, face scrunching as you try to contain your tears. His proud little grin drops, Jack thinking he's upset you and maybe he's just made you hate the entire room. Maybe it's too pink? Or not pink enough? Or do you hate the crib?
"...Oh...you hate it?"
"No, no! I love it! I love you!" You step forward quickly, wrapping your arms around him as you start to cry into his chest because how could he think you hate it? It's the best nursery in the world and he's the sweetest husband in the world. You really can't stop the tears and Jack should be used to them by now, you've been such a cry baby since you found out you were pregnant, hormones doing a number on you and making you even more sensitive.
"Oh, okay! Oh, don't cry, baby!" He's smoothing your hair down, trying to calm you, but once the waterworks start it's seemingly impossible to stop.
"It's...it's the...hormones...'m sorry..." You sob into his chest, Jack pulling you tight against him and rocking you side to side to try and soothe you.
"Hey, it's okay, angel," He can't help but laugh because he knows you're not sad now and he knows how easily you've been brought to tears as of late. Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head, staying there for a moment to breathe in the smell of your shampoo.
At least he knows you like the nursery, he thinks, enough that it made you cry.
"God, I love you, baby..." He sighs into your hair and his words only seem to make you cry just a little harder because how did you get this lucky?
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"Jack..." You waddle into the nursery, now feeling so much larger than before. Quite positively and obviously pregnant and finding moving harder each month. Even simply things are harder because you have a beach ball in the way, Jack tells you it's cute and that's the only thing keep you from crying about it.
"What?" He looks up from where he's arranging some toys in the corner. He's developed an obsession with picking up any adorable toy he finds out and about to add to the collection. There's even a cuddly Fin the Orca from Quinn sitting on top of the toy box.
"Why is there a demon in the crib?" You're staring at the bright red plushie, with big elflike ears, horns, pointy teeth and a curly q tail. Trying to figure out why it's there in the first place because it certainly wasn't there yesterday.
You rest a hand on your stomach and the other on the small of your back, watching as Jack picks the weird little plushie up and makes it wave at you with its little arm.
"It's not a demon, it's our baby girl's first jelly cat!"
"Why is it a devil? A gremlin?" You're not entirely sure what it's supposed to be, definitely some sort of monster or creature and obscenely bright in it's colouring. You have to admit it is kind of cute...in it's own way...
"Uh, because of the New Jersey Devils, obviously? Why would I get our special girl something boring like a bunny?" He places the little plush back in the crib gently, patting it on the head in a way that is so endearingly sweet that you can't help but smile at him.
"She's going to be a weird kid, y'know that? You're going to make our baby a weird kid." You joke knowing fully well that you weren't actually popular or cool in school. Jack closes the distances between the two of you, leaning down to talk to your belly, like he's been doing since day one. He yaps at your baby girl none stop, whether she can understand a single word he says or not.
"Don't listen to your mother, you're going to be amazing and awesome and totally popular." He whispers to your belly, hands coming to rest on either side gently stroking your stomach over your t-shirt.
"You want our baby to be a popular girl?" You raise your eyebrows at him and he looks at you in horror like that might be the worst fate imaginable, to have a stereotypical mean popular girl for a daughter. You think it's impossible for her to turn out that way with Jack as a dad, with Quinn and Luke as uncles and Ellen and Jim as grandparents. She's going to be surrounded by so many amazing, kind people that if she turns out mean you'll be shocked. If she's popular you know it'll be because she's kind.
"On second thoughts, be a weird kid, baby girl. Be into taxidermy or something." You feel her kick his hand in response and can't help but laugh at the pair because you already know they're going to be trouble. Your kid is going to be just like Jack, you have no doubt, and you're certain you're going to be constantly amazed by them.
"You're ridiculous."
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You're sighing heavily, hands firmly on your lower back at the ache there as you look in the kitchen cupboard for something to eat. You feel so uncomfortable, so heavy, so big, so achy. Everything hurts, your belly is so heavy that it forces your back to arch and as much as you love your baby girl, you really hate how she's making you feel. Even most food isn't appetising at the moment.
"You okay, baby?" Jack watches you from the kitchen doorway, leaning deliciously against the doorframe. How does he manage to look so good all the time? It only makes you feel worse because you want him but don't feel like acting on it.
"No...back hurts, belly is heavy, I can't get comfy and I feel ugly and gross..."
"First off, you've never been more beautiful," Jack frowns at you, hating that you don't like yourself at the moment. He's certain you've never been more gorgeous than now when you're carrying his baby, your baby. But, he can see it, the way you stand uncomfortable and in pain, how that must weigh down on you as your body constantly changes. "Secondly, c'mere."
Jack moves to you, standing behind your back with his head on your shoulder. His arms come around your front, hands resting underneath your belly securely and in one slow move, he lifts and suddenly everything feels better, lighter.
"Oh, fuck..." It's like he's taken 10 pounds off your spine and you can't help but sigh and lean back into him, eyes closing at the feeling because you haven't felt this comfortable in a while.
"That feel good?" Jack grins into your shoulder, happy that he's helping, happy to feel the way you relax into him as he takes the entire weight of your belly into his palms. It's heavy and he knows his baby girl has been giving you a world of aches and pains.
"Mmhmmm..." You hum, sighing deeply with each breath as he just holds you like that, letting you lean your weight back into him and feel free for a moment, feel more like yourself.
"Well, let's stay like this for a little then, yeah?" He doesn't try to move away, not after a minute, not after 3 or 5. He holds your belly for near 20 minutes until your feet hurt from standing and even then he's considering when he can do it again, when he can help make this whole pregnancy just a tiny bit easier for you.
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"What are those?" You point at the tiny little outfits that Jack is currently folding on the changing table in the nursery. The clothes you doubt are going to fit into the drawers you have because he keeps buying more baby outfits, what seems like every single day.
"These?" He holds a little onesie up innocently, grey, red and black, with a little New Jersey logo in the corner.
"Yeah, those? You do know she's going to grow out of them within a few weeks, right?" You keep telling him not to buy so many baby clothes because she's going to grow quicker than she can wear them, but he seems unable to resist.
"Then I'll just buy more..." He mutters continuing to fold the next item he'd brought.
"Jack..."
"But, they're cute! Look! It's a little New Jersey Devils snowsuit!" He holds up a big puffy snowsuit and you can't help but shake your head at him because the baby is due in June and there's no way she's going to be small enough by the time it snows to even wear it.
"She's going to be too big by the time it snows!"
"But, angel!" He pouts at you so badly that you can't help but laugh. Jack's handome, pretty, adorable, always, but there's something about fatherhood, about his excitement to provide for his growing family that makes him even more adorable.
"Okay, okay...they're cute and if it makes you happy you can keep buying them..." You concede, even as you know half the clothes aren't going to be worn by your baby girl.
"Thank you, beside, if it doesn't fit her it might fit the next one." His comment has you letting out a shocked laugh and you move closer to lean into him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and holding your belly.
"How many babies do you want me to pop out?"
"Mmm, like a whole hockey team? Call the Hughes' Hockey Club? The Hughes Hornets? The Hughes Harlequins?"
"You're planning on killing me with babies?" You're already imagining how exhausting it would be to grow and birth that many babies...you'd do it for him, but...maybe stopping at 3 or 4 or 5 would be better.
"No, sex, obviously." Jack frowns at you and you gasp at his commentary, whacking his chest with a free arm until he grasps it and pulls you close.
"You're such a dick!"
"Hey, you love this dick." He smirks down at you, pressing a kiss to your hand.
"Jack!"
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You're exhausted, 24 hours of labour has made it's mark on you. Your skin is ashy and sallow, dark bags under your eyes and sweat wetting your hair and skin to such a moistness it almost seems like you've just come out of a shower. But, you're beautiful to him, laying there with your baby girl in your arms, letting her nurse from you like that.
He's in awe of the way you shift her so naturally against your chest, the way you gentle rub the small tuft of dark hair on top of her head.
"You did so good, baby...look at her, look at you..." Jack is sat next to you on the hospital bed, he's been here for the entire labour, holding your hand and giving you water to drink. He's been amazing, and you know he'll continue to be as you face the challenges of post-birth.
He's gentle as he smooths the hair away from your sweaty face, getting the small strands out of your way as you smile tiredly down at your baby girl before looking up at him once she unlatches from your breast.
"You wanna...wanna hold her?" Your voice is raw, exhausted but no less sweet for it and Jack can't help his enthusiastic nod, arms already in position to take her like he practiced at home. His mum and dad giving him a run down with a teddy bear on how to properly hold a new born. At the time it had felt silly, now he's glad for the confidence it has given him.
You transfer your perfect little girl into his arms, sitting up a little more and shifting so he can sit with her more directly next to you. Your head leaning against his shoulder while he cradles her carefully in his arms like the most precious cargo he's ever had.
"Hey, baby girl...it's me, your daddy...God, I've been so excited to meet you. You're so perfect, just like your mommy..." Jack's finger carefully traces her cheek down to her little palm and she grips his finger tightly, trapping it in that notorious baby grip that has his eyes filling with tears, "I love you so much, both of you," He smiles over at you, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead before returning his gaze back to his daughter.
She doesn't even have a name yet, but he loves her so much already. He knows he'd do anything for you, for her and that's both terrifying and uplifting. To love someone so much you'd risk it all, do anything to keep them safe and happy and healthy.
"She has your eyes," You smile up at him, comparing his baby blues with your daughter's own as she yawns in his arms.
"She has your nose, angel."
"You think?" You squint at her, trying to tell if that really is your nose developing or Jack's more button one...it's hard to tell when she's this small, this young.
"Mmm, poor kid." Jack teases you, grinning, full of excitement, happiness, contentment. His wife leaning against him, his new baby girl in his arms, a sense of humour coming back now you're not constantly carrying around an extra weight.
"Hey!"
"I'm joking, she's beautiful just like her mommy." He presses a kiss to your forehead and you sigh into it, letting the tiredness take you knowing that Jack's got you, he's got you both.
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princesseilish · 2 months ago
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PARROT
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Billie Eillsh x Fem!Mom!Reader
Warnings: slight swearing, use of y/n? a pinch of funny
Synopsis: billie couldn’t help herself, and now Rosie can’t help herself either
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It was supposed to be a simple grocery trip.
Y/N had explicitly instructed Billie to keep it together. They were just grabbing a few things for Rosie’s upcoming second birthday party—balloons, snacks, maybe a cake mix. Nothing complicated, nothing that should’ve been an issue. But Y/N should’ve known better.
“Babe, do we need more of that organic juice Ro likes?” Billie called from the next aisle, pushing the cart with Rosie sitting happily inside, her tiny hands wrapped around the bar.
Y/N, examining a box of birthday candles, glanced over. “Yeah, grab a couple bottles. The mango one.”
“Got it.”
It was going fine. Too fine, actually.
Until they hit the produce section.
Billie was trying to grab a bundle of bananas from the display when, naturally, the entire pyramid of fruit decided to betray her. A bunch tumbled to the floor with a loud thud, rolling in every direction. Billie, already flustered, muttered under her breath, “What the fuck.”
Y/N’s head snapped up like she’d been electrocuted.
“Billie,” she hissed, eyes darting to their daughter.
But it was too late.
Rosie, wide-eyed and always eager to mimic her favorite person in the world, opened her tiny mouth and proudly repeated, “What the fuh!”
Y/N’s soul left her body.
Billie froze, bananas still in hand, her face a perfect mix of horror and disbelief. “Oh, shit.”
“Billie!” Y/N practically dropped the candles as she rushed over, grabbing Rosie from the cart like she could somehow squeeze the word right out of her.
Rosie giggled, thinking it was all a fun game. “What the fuh! What the fuh!”
Y/N’s jaw clenched so tight she thought her teeth might crack. She turned slowly to Billie, who was trying—and failing—not to laugh.
“Billie Eilish,” Y/N said in a tone that could curdle milk, “what the actual fuck—I mean—heck—heck is wrong with you?!”
Billie bit her lip, attempting to stifle a snort but failing miserably. “Babe, I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to?” Y/N’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as she pointed at their gleeful toddler. “Her second birthday is in three days. Do you really want our daughter to be the kid who blows out her candles and yells ‘what the fuh!’ in front of everyone?”
Rosie clapped her hands excitedly. “What the fuh!”
Y/N shot Billie a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through steel. “No, Ro, that’s a no-no word. Bad Billie.”
Billie winced like she’d been physically slapped. “Hey, c’mon, it’s not like I taught her on purpose.”
Y/N set Rosie back in the cart and grabbed the bananas out of Billie’s hands with a dramatic huff. “You’re on cleanup duty. And you’re explaining this to my mom if Ro slips up.”
Billie groaned, rubbing the back of her neck. “Your mom already thinks I’m a bad influence.”
“Well,” Y/N muttered, pushing the cart down the aisle, “now she has proof.”
Later that night, after Rosie was tucked in—without uttering any forbidden words, thank God—Billie shuffled into their bedroom looking like a guilty puppy.
Y/N was curled up with a book, doing her best to ignore Billie’s presence, even as Billie flopped dramatically onto the bed beside her.
“Babe,” Billie whined, nudging Y/N’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
Y/N didn’t look up from her book. “You corrupted our daughter.”
Billie groaned, rolling onto her back. “It was an accident! I swear, I’ll fix it.”
Y/N finally glanced at her, arching an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And how exactly do you plan on fixing that?”
Billie grinned, pulling Y/N’s book out of her hands and tossing it onto the nightstand. “Simple. I’ll just teach her other words to say instead.”
Y/N sighed, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Like what?”
Billie sat up, her face serious. “Like… ‘What the fudge!’ Or ‘What the flip!’” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Or we could go full grandma and teach her to say, ‘Oh, sugar!’”
Y/N finally laughed, shoving Billie’s shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you love me.” Billie grinned, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “And I love you. And Ro. Even if she’s a tiny parrot.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but her heart melted all the same. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Billie wrapped her arms around Y/N, pulling her into her chest. “Lucky? Nah, I’m just smart. I got you and Ro, didn’t I?”
Y/N sighed, snuggling into Billie’s warmth despite herself. “Just… try not to turn her into a sailor before preschool, okay?”
Billie chuckled, kissing the top of Y/N’s head. “Deal. But if she slips up… I’m blaming you for teaching her ‘heck.’”
Y/N groaned, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Life with Billie might’ve been chaotic, but it was theirs—bad words, bananas, and all.
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goldsainz · 2 months ago
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# CS55 — WELCOME HOME !
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MASTERLIST !
REQUEST !
001. SUMMARY !
✯ the f1 season has ended, which means carlos can finally relax with his family.
002. WARNINGS !
✯ none!
003. NOTE !
✯ dad fics are my comfort zone (and angst too) they’re so cute and fun to write, which means if you want to request them i’m gonna write them sooner rather than later 🙌
word count : 618
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Carlos let out a heavy sigh as he stepped through the front door of your home in Monaco, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders.
The F1 season had finally ended. Another year of relentless travel, intense competition, and grueling races. He loved it, but right now, all he wanted was to be home. To be with you and your little boy.
Before he could even call out, the sound of tiny, fast-moving footsteps echoed through the house.
“¡Papá!” A little voice squealed.
He barely had time to brace himself before a blur of curly brown hair and chubby little arms crashed into his legs. He laughed, dropping his bags and scooping up his three-year-old son, Santiago—his Santi.
“Mi niño,” Carlos murmured, hugging him tightly. “You got even bigger while I was away, huh?”
Santi pulled back slightly, his face lit up with pure excitement. “Mamá said we have surprise for you!” he announced proudly.
Carlos raised an eyebrow, amused. “A surprise?”
That’s when you appeared in the doorway, arms crossed with a playful smile on your lips. “Welcome home, baby,” you said softly.
Carlos’ eyes softened instantly. “Cariño,”
You walked over, placing a hand on his cheek before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Come on,” you whispered against them. “Your welcome home treatment is waiting.”
Carlos let Santi down, who immediately grabbed his hand and started tugging him toward the living room. The first thing he noticed was the fort—pillows, blankets, and fairy lights all set up in a cozy little corner. Next to it was a tray with his favorite snacks, a bottle of wine, and a tiny juice box for Santi.
“Fort night!” Santi announced proudly, clapping his hands.
Carlos turned to you, grinning. “You built a fort?”
“Santi insisted,” you said with a shrug. “And I figured it was the best way to get you to actually rest.”
Carlos chuckled as he let himself be dragged to the couch. He sat down, pulling Santi onto his lap while you settled beside them, leaning against his side. It was warm, soft, and peaceful—the complete opposite to the chaos of an F1 season.
As Santi curled up against his chest, Carlos ran a gentle hand through his son’s hair, glancing down at him. “Did you take good care of Mamá while I was gone?”
Santi nodded seriously. “I helped cook! And I washed my hands a lot. And I gave Mamá hugs.”
Carlos shot you an amused look. “All very important responsibilities.”
“Very,” you agreed, laughing softly.
Santi suddenly sat up, his eyes wide. “Oh! Almost forgot!” He scrambled out of Carlos’s lap and waddled over to the little side table, grabbing a piece of paper before running back. “Me and Mamá made this.”
Carlos took the drawing from his tiny hands, his heart swelling as he looked at it. It was a messy but adorable crayon drawing of the three of you; Carlos in his red racing suit, you holding Santi’s hand, and a big yellow sun smiling in the sky.
“For you,” Santi said shyly.
Carlos felt a lump in his throat as he hugged Santi close, pressing a kiss to his curly hair. “This is the best gift ever, Santi. Thank you.”
Your son beamed, snuggling deeper into his arms.
You reached for Carlos’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I know how much you give all year long, amor,” you murmured. “So this weekend? No stress. No alarms. Just us taking care of you.”
Carlos exhaled deeply, feeling every last bit of exhaustion finally fade. He kissed your forehead before leaning back, Santi nestled against his chest, the soft glow of the fairy lights around you.
“Best off-season ever,” he whispered, closing his eyes.
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wonderjanga · 3 months ago
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Marvel’s an Alien?
The JL ended up going to a distant planet for diplomatic reasons. Marvel wasn’t there, neither was any of his sidekicks and or children(?). The explanation for why he couldn’t come was that Mr. Mind, a “mind controlling worm that crawls into your ear” was attacking Fawcett. None of the JL wanted to touch mind control, not even with a twenty foot pole so they just sent the Marvels on their way.
Now, the juicy thing was that everyone on this planet had the powers of Marvel. Though to a lesser degree it seems. None of these Keraunotes, which was what they called themselves, could seem to muster the same electrical output Marvel could. That’s what Batman said anyways. They actually asked one of the monarchs of the planet about why no one could use more electricity.
Monarchy: “What do you mean more?”
Aquaman: “We mean more. Like, we have this friend who can do a lot more than you guys.” *shows the monarch a vid of Marvel spamming a bunch of lightning at a villain* “Is there a reason you guys can’t use more? A limitation?”
Monarchy: *offended* “The limitation is death! If anyone used that much, they would die from the exhaustion. How is he even alive?”
That was a little concerning to the JL who were fully set on Marvel being a Keraunote. Was he constantly exhausting himself whenever he fought? Did he miss his home? Why’d he leave? Many questions were swirling in their heads. So, they decided to try and be better friends to Marvel. They decided to learn some things about this place.
Batman learned the planets language, or languages, there were multiple but he just stuck to couple and hoped for the best. He decided to test this about a week after they came back from the planet.
(foreign language is italics)
Batman: “Marvel, I need your input on something?”
Marvel: *confusion as to why Batman’s speaking another language, Solomon translates it* “Of course? What is it?”
Batman: “There’s currently a team of heroes stranded on an uninhabited planet. Do you think you’d be able to fly there and restart the power of their ship using your own electricity?”
Marvel: “I could try.” *sounds concerned* “When can I go help them?”
Batman: “Right after I ask a question. Is my pronunciation alright?”
Marvel: “Uh… Yes?”
Solomon: “Tell him to emphasize the vowels more.”
Marvel: “You might want to emphasize your vowels more though.”
Batman: “I see.” *nods head* “Well, you’re free to go save them now.”
GL and Flash decided to learn some dishes of the planet for Marvel.
Flash: *leading Marvel by the arm to the kitchen* “Trust us, man. You’re going to love it!”
Marvel: “Am I? I feel like this is a prank.”
GL: *is hovering his hands over Cap’s eyes* (that’s why Flash is pulling him along) “It’s not!”
Marvel: “I don’t think I believe you.”
Flash: “Well, regardless of what you believe. Tada!”
GL: *takes his hands off Marvel’s eyes*
Marvel: *sees a bunch of food on one of the counters* “Oh wow!” *loves food*
GL and Flash: *thinks his love of food is him loving that it’s food from his planet and are super proud*
Hawkgirl and Aquaman learned a game that was played on the planet.
Marvel, Aquaman, and Hawkgirl: *all playing a Keraunote card game on the floor with all of them bored but trying to hide it*
Marvel: *just gives up on hiding it* “Guys.” *puts a card down* “This is really boring.”
Aquaman: “Oh thank God!” *chucks his hand of cards over his shoulder* “I thought I was the only one.”
Hawkgirl: “How about we just spar in the training room?” *also throws her hand over her shoulder*
Marvel: “That sounds way better than whatever this was. I barely understood the rules.” *neatly, gracefully, simply puts his hand of cards down on the floor and stands up*
Hawkgirl: “You too? And here I thought it was just me.” *stands up*
Aquaman: “We were all confused.” *stands up*
They all went to spar and then drank juice boxes while sharing a bag of cheddar & sour cream flavored ruffles after.
Anyways, it’s safe to say the JL are all super proud of themselves.
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heartfullofleeches · 11 months ago
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[Angst]
Fuckboy Yan sleeping with his shy lifelong best-friend's childhood crush - unaware that the two had already been on multiple casual dates so far-
"I hate you."
Three little words... They sound unfamiliar coming from your mouth of all places. As children, your best "friend" aired his hatred for you often - most cases being whenever you denied him your juice boxes at lunch. He never meant it though- Regardless of how much of a pushover you were back then, he could never truly hate you. Not now. Not then. He always thought the same could be said for you. He had always been trouble for you, yet you allowed him to cling to your side - despite his bold claims that it was the other way around. You both had your faults, but he knew you'd be together till the very end.
So why... Why are you looking at him like that now?
"You have everything. Why... Why couldn't you just let me have this one thing? Why couldn't you let me have them?"
His first mistake was writing your recent burst of happiness off as something else- You had been so happy these past few weeks - happier than you'd ever been in his company. He assumed it was because of that new promotion you received at work. Never would he have guessed it was because of them- His heart couldn't take it.
"I was hesitant to give them your number when they asked. I realize now they were just using me to get to you. Maybe I thought too highly of them, but you- I trusted you."
He didn't know. They nevet spoke a word of your budding relationship through their little fling til the very end. It's all their fault. He'll kill them.
"Just... Stay away from me from now on."
He'll kill them for doing this to him. To you both. He was never the best guy, but he was trying so hard to be good enough for you someday. Now that chance is gone. They wouldn't feel half the anguish he's going through now if he snapped their pretty little neck.
"Hey.... Yeah, I talked to them. They took it bette4 than I thought.... Why don't you come over one more time? Y/n's over it already so seeing each other one last time couldn't hurt, right?'
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irndad · 1 year ago
Note
Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
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“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 
“You’re important to me.” 
She has no idea how much. 
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 
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inkedells · 2 years ago
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look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?
m!dni | requests open.
summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.
word count: 5.5k
tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires
masterlist
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There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.
You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.
You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—
“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.
He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.
So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.
You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”
Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.
But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.
“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”
By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences. 
“Lead the way.”
Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.
“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”
As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.
“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”
There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.
He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”
You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.
“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”
“What kinda chore we talkin’?”
“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”
“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.
“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”
“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”
-
Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.
You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.
When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.
“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”
“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”
“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”
Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.
“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”
You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.
“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”
He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”
Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.
“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”
Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—
He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”
You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.
“Um, I think he’s out working.”
“Great.”
Great?
Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”
His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.
Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.
“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”
He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.
“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”
You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”
He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”
“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.
Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”
“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”
Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”
Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”
“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”
Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.
“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”
Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.
“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”
You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.
“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”
You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”
“Joel. Just Joel.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.
“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.
You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.
It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.
He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”
His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”
“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”
With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.
It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.
“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”
You nodded hesitantly.
“You know why it’s there?”
You shrugged.
He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”
Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out
“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”
Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.
Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso. 
“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.
But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.
A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.
You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.
Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.
“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”
It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.
“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”
And just like that, he was gone.
-
That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.
You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.
So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.
Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.
No pressure on either of you.
You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.
-
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.
“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”
“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”
“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”
“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”
“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”
Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”
You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks, honey.”
Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.
Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?
When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.
And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.
You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.
Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.
The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.
-
Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.
“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”
And Joel’s voice.
You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.
Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.
“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.
“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”
Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”
“Well, what was the usual li—”
“—Were you asleep?”
“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”
Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”
“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”
“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”
No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”
He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”
“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”
He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”
“What? But why?”
Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.
“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”
“Joel, I—”
“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”
You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.” 
“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”
You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.
“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.
“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.
He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.
“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”
Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”
You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.
“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”
“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.
You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”
Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”
You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.
“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”
You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”
Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”
And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.
“Unbuckle my pants.”
With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.
“What…” You began, “What now?”
“Whatever feels comfortable.”
With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.
Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”
“—Yes, God, yes.”
You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.
“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”
You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.
“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.
With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.
You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”
And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.
Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.
You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”
“Licking a man’s cock.”
You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”
“Like what?”
“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”
And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.
Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.
“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”
“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.
“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”
You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.
“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”
He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”
“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”
“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.
With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”
“About what?”
“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”
“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”
When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.
“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.
“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”
But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.
“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers. 
“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”
“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”
“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”
“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel. 
“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.
“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”
“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”
He sighed at that. “You got me there.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.
When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.
“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.
“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”
“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.
Another sigh. “My cum.”
You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.
“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.
“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”
Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”
Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?” 
“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”
“What? No—”
“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”
He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”
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A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings
taglist:
@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare
@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13
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@daylighthrry @victoriamay1357 @jeezkiddo @its-spooky-these-days @pedro-luvr @chibimosa @sagethephantom @loathsome-gargoyle @alejaa-a @greenclues @june-julie @spenciesprincess @donttamethebeasts @alec0 @djarinsimp 
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yinemw · 4 months ago
Text
𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
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context: this is the part two to this post, in which Toji is ready to take the next step 🥰 (female reader)
warnings: swearing
characters: Toji Fushiguro from JJK
m.list
“Got your lunchbox?”
“Mhm” Megumi nods as he looks through his school bag, hands digging through the books to see his blue lunchbox at the bottom of the bag.
“Got your water bottle?”
“Mhm” he hums yet again when he spots the water bottle filled with his favorite juice.
“Got your school project?” You ask lastly, knowing the school project you and Toji had been helping him with was still in his room.
Not finding it, Megumi quickly runs up to his bedroom to retrieve the project, almost tripping on his way up the stairs. “I got it!” He says on his way down, stuffing it in his bag.
“Come on brat, bus is leaving soon” Toji yawns, grabbing the cup of coffee you had made for him and opening the front door. “Bus ain’t gonna wait for ya if you’re not there” he repeats impatiently, urging his son out the door before sitting down on the porch. Instinctively wrapping his arm around your waist as you sit down beside him, watching Megumi run to the side walk, the two dogs following right after him, walking him to the bus stop. This was the usual morning routine for your family.
“You forgot to give him his jacket Toji! It’s going to be windy today” you sigh when noticing Megumi walk into the distance, only wearing a t-shirt. Turning to the boys father, Toji only shrugged as yet another yawn left his lips. Black hair all tousled and clothes wrinkled as he had gotten out of bed only a few minutes ago.
“Relax, will ya! This will teach him to remember his own jacket”
You glare at him, letting out a groan at his smirk as he rubbed his head into your shoulder playfully. “I packed his food and made sure he had his project with him, one thing Toji, you had only one thing to make sure he had with him”
“Relax baby, we got the day for ourselves now, not to mention the night too” he tries to sweet talk you, placing sweet kisses along your collarbone and neck. “Since the brat is going to sleep over at that kid Itadori’s place, no one will disturb us the whole weekend—”
The two dogs come running back, wagging their tails as they rub their noses against your knees. Wanting pets and cuddles as usual, whenever Megumi was at school they relied on you for the attention, often stealing you away from Toji.
“Should have never gotten these dogs for the kid” Toji groans, slowly pushing the white dog away from you, but it didn’t seem to help.
“You’re moodier then usual” the two of you go back inside, the dogs going to their dog beds and entertaining each other. “Something happen at work?”
Toji doesn’t answer immediately, not sure what to tell you. He needed today to go perfectly, better than any other day had ever gone. He’d planned everything weeks before, found the perfect location where the sunset was prettiest, asked Itadori’s older brother if Megumi could stay for the weekend, bought all your favorite snacks and sweets, made sure he found your favorite champagne and roses, and most importantly, made sure he picked out the perfect ring.
Ring, right, the ring. Wait, where did he put the ring again—
“Toji? You okay there?”
“Hah?” He turns around, looking at your slightly worried face. But he couldn’t focus on that right now, still trying to figure out where he had put the ring box. “Hold on, I’ll be right back” he rushes up the stairs, and you hear an assortment of things being thrown around and cupboards being opened and closed.
Curious, you follow after him, finding your boyfriend in Megumi’s room, rummaging through his closet. “Toji what’s going on?”
“Nothing!” He shouts rather loudly, turning around immediately after having stuffed the ring box in his boxers. Wait…in his boxers? Toji mentally slaps himself for wearing his grey sweatpants so often. If he placed it in his pocket you would see the outline immediately and ask him about it. But in his boxers, it would blend in with, well, another type of package.
“You know what, I don’t even want to know, just let me know when you’re done having your psychotic episode” you turn around, walking back down to the living room. No clue what has gotten into the older man, and not really caring either, it was Toji after all.
After securing a safer place for the ring box, Toji follows quickly after you. “Uh what are you doing, I made reservations for lunch and the place is a 3 hour ride away”
You sigh, opening up your laptop, “remind me again why we’re going to this fancy place to have lunch, you’re usually fine just eating some cheap ramen”
He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, tapping his foot on the floor like an old grandpa. “Because I want to, we need to start driving in an hour woman, so you better be ready for then- hello? Are you even listening?”
“I’m paying the bills you old man!” You reply, eyes not leaving the laptop screen. “Ever since you decided it was a good idea to make your nanny into your girlfriend, I suddenly had a lot more responsibilities then just taking care of Megumi, so, now I pay the bills each month. To be honest Toji, I feel like just staying in today, do we have to go to this fancy place?”
“Yes.”
And that you did. After a 3 hour drive, some road rage from Toji and a struggle to find parking, the two of you arrive at the restaurant for lunchtime.
“What?!” Toji asks, a bit too loud for the fancy place, after the host informed him that your table had been given to a couple who arrived on time. “We arrived 30 minutes late! Not my fault the road here was fucking shitty—” your hands wrap around his bicep, pulling him aside slightly. Looking down at your delicate features and reassuring smile reminded him why he had made the reservations in the first place. This day is supposed to be special, and he was ruining it
After apologizing to the host (which took a lot of convincing from you), Toji was on the hunt for nearby restaurants to make up for your lost reservations. Scrolling through his phone as you leaned against the car, looking towards the beach that looked so inviting. Waves crashing towards the sand, a group of friends playing volleyball, a golden retriever playing fetch with his owner. “Toji, forget food, let’s go take a walk on the beach, we can dip our feet into the water too. It looks so nice, don’t you think?”
No response from the older man. You had never seen him this focused and stressed before, not even for his job or the time Megumi had come home with a high fever. He took things as they came, always more laid back than you. Today it seems like the roles are reversed. You couldn’t help but watch with a frown as Toji starts to bite his nails.
“What the fuck, all the fancy places are booked” he groans after hanging up the phone for the third time. Loosening the tie around his neck, it was one of the first times you’d seen him wear a suit. You always thought it would be for something special, for one of his work dinners maybe, not on a random Friday afternoon, standing in a parking lot as he desperately tries to find a place to eat.
“That one seems fine”
Toji follows the direction of your finger, hopeful first, yet his frown only deepens. “That’s a fast food place, I think we’re overdressed” he scoffed annoyed, looking over his shoulder and inside the car where he had hidden a bag of snacks and chocolates for you in the backseat. He had planned to give them to you after proposing, but now it seemed like an emergency snack instead…
“Well we had a long car ride and we’ve been standing out here in the sun whilst you’ve been calling all around, you can’t blame me for wanting some chicken nuggets and a milkshake right now”
Toji had to remind himself that today was about you. What made you happy, what made you smile, what would make you say yes. So he took you to the fast food restaurant, buying takeaway and walking hand in hand with you down to the beach. Seeing the smile on your face as you sit down in the sand and take a bite from your food.
“Good?” Toji asks, already knowing the answer. Recognizing the sparkle in your eyes whenever you ate delicious food. He couldn’t lie, the burger he was eating was probably ten times better than the small portions of food they would have served at the restaurant.
After the meal, you drag Toji towards the water. If he wanted to, he could easily pull you right back towards him, throw you over his shoulder and walk back to the dry sand where the waves couldn’t reach. But he didn’t, because yet again this was something that made you happy. “Not too far brat, this suit was expensive, don’t want the water to dirty it”
You roll your eyes, not caring of soaking your clothes as you lift your leg and splash him. The water up to your knees now as you burst out laughing at Toji’s grumpy, and now wet, face.
“You’re gonna regret that” he said calmly. But you know what they say, it’s always the calm before the storm. The next hour consisted of you and Toji splashing and pushing each other in the water. All in fun, even Toji laughed freely, feeling the muscles in his cheeks hurt from the amount of smiling and laughing.
“You are an insane man, should have had Megumi here, he would have protected me” you giggle softly as the two of you walk out of the water. Clothes drenched, hair dripping and the taste of salt lingering on your tongue. “Excuse me, this is not okay” you point to his shirt, the white fabric now seethrough and sticking to his skin. His abs clear as day to anyone who would look in his direction. You wrap your fingers at the bottom of the shirt and drag the fabric away from his stomach. Letting your fingertips graze his damp skin, dancing over his abs and lower stomach.
Toji only smirks, placing his large hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. Pressing his body against yours to feel your curves. Shivers running down his back as the sun had started to set, the only source of warmth now being your body. “You’ve gotten bolder ever since we started dating, you realize that? I remember the first time you saw me naked, you were literally speechless, not sure where to look first”
“I was not!! I was just trying to be respectful Toji! I started out as a stranger taking care of your son, to being someone who’s in love with you, living in the same house as you and being apart of your family. Of course I changed. Not to mention, anyone would have to take a few seconds to steady themselves when they see you naked Toji, have you seen your body?!”
His gaze softens and he can’t help but let out a chuckle at the last part. You did change, so did he, but for the better. You had brought a warmness and light back into his life that he thought he’d never feel again.
“I guess this is as good of a time as ever” Toji smiles as he reaches into his jacket pocket to take out the ring box. His fingers reach the bottom of the soaked and empty pocket. The color drains from his face and he feels his heart stop for a second.
This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything that had already gone wrong today.
“Good time for what?” You question, shivering slightly from the cold.
“Fuck uh, I booked us hotel rooms for the weekend” Toji reveals instead. That was supposed to be a surprise for after you had said yes, taking his fiancé back to the hotel to celebrate together. But now that his plans were ruined and he saw how cold you were getting, the only option was to retreat to the hotel and sleep it off.
“For the weekend? But what about Megumi?”
“Staying all weekend at Itadori’s. His older brother is there so don’t worry”
“But what about your job?”
“Already took the weekend off sweetheart”
“And the dogs?”
“Got a dog sitter, do you really think I can’t plan a weekend without messing something up?” He scoffs, half offended and half teasingly.
You raise your eyebrows, pulling away from his hold and opening up your hand. Revealing the ring box in your palm. “Can you blame me? Your proposal hasn’t really gone that smooth, now has it?”
Toji was speechless, frozen even. Seeing the ring box he thought was lost forever, now in your hand. He hadn’t even popped the question yet. “You- right, okay, shit. How the fuck did you find that?”
“Errr” you make a buzzing sound and give him a thumbs down. “Wrong answer, you’re supposed to take the ring from me, get down on one knee, tell me how much you love me, ask me to be your wife, kiss me after I say yes and drive me to the hotel so I don’t get frostbites!” you shiver, not sure if it was the wet clothes sticking to your skin and making you cold, or the adrenaline of watching Toji actually get down on one knee in front of you.
Toji looks up at you, taking the ring box from your hands and opening it up. Revealing the most beautiful engagement ring you had ever seen. Safe to say he knew your taste, getting each detail right. “I…this was not how I imagined today would go Y/n” he begins, unusually nervous. Just like the day he had cooked dinner for you for the first time. The nerves, the overthinking he wasn’t used to feeling.
“It’s us Toji, has anything up to today been how you imagined?” You let out a breathy chuckle, trying to play it off cool, but truthfully you were holding back from jumping up and down in excitement. Toji Fushiguro, the man you had been in love with for so long now, the man you had gotten the privilege to become apart of his family, the man who gave you the happiest and most content years of your life. That same man was holding up the perfect ring for you.
“Fuck I didn’t really practice this part, Megumi told me it’s best if I speak from the heart. But shit, you know I’m bad at that” he swallows hard, hands shaking slightly as he looks into your eyes. He was so unbelievably in love with you, and he desperately wanted to tell you that. “God okay, Y/n, I love you. More then money, more then gambling, shit I guess that’s not a good thing to compare it to, but bottom line, I love you. Hiring you as Megumi’s nanny is one of the best decisions I ever made, I don’t know if it was fucking fate or not, shit seems too good to be true to be honest, but you’re here. You’re here with me, you put up with me, you love me and Megumi. You make me realize that as long as I have you around, things will be fine. Like today, after everything, we ended up having a fun day, good meal and, well, an engagement ring that cost a pretty penny to get, thankfully not lost anymore. So, my pretty woman, will you marry me?”
You can’t help but chuckle, feeling emotional and happy all at once. Listening to every word carefully and feeling your heartbeat race faster and faster until the very end. “Yes Toji of course I’ll marry you” The answer slipped past your lips so easily, there was no doubt in your feelings.
After collecting himself, he slipped the ring on your finger and pulled you unbelievably close to him. “Fuck I love you” Toji mumbles into your neck, closing his eyes to make sure he didn’t tear up. He had replayed this moment in his head for weeks, imagining how it would go, yet he still never imagined it would feel this good.
“Me too, and I’d love you even more if we got to the hotel before we both get sick and spend the night celebrating with a fever and runny nose”
Toji grins against the skin on your neck, placing a few quick pecks against your pulse point before lifting you up in his arms bridal style. Walking with you like that towards the car.
“I have a question”
“Hmm?”
“How’d you find the ring?”
“When you body slammed me into the water, it fell out of your pocket and hit me in the face. Caught it before that big wave almost knocked you out afterwards. Can’t believe you didn’t notice, you dumbass”
“Hey careful there sweetheart, shouldn’t be calling your fiancé such words”
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chamomiletealeaf · 2 days ago
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how would Simon or Johnny handle a sick, whiny and needy reader? Like having a fever and just feeling fatigued with headaches that pushes the need to be nursed back to health to the forefront, wanting to be close and not feel alone
(I'm sick myself so I thought I'd treat myself to an ask <3 bcs your writing is amazing)
Sorry for responding to this so late anon 😭 I hope you're feeling much better now!
I couldn't decide between Simon or Johnny so here's both!
Simon would come home one day and search the house for you. You were normally on the couch playing a game, watching a movie, reading, something. The house always had some sort of life in it that you brought. But not this time.
He comes home from a meeting or wherever he's been for the day and the lights are off.
"y/n? sweetheart?" Simon calls for you down the hall, his heart racing already fearing the worst. He pulls out the knife he keeps on his ankle and slowly approaches your shared room. He flicks on the light and he sees you. Sleeping with tissues around you, empty soup bowls, and a wet rag on your forehead.
He sighs and places the knife back, quietly walking over to you and turning the light on.
"Hey love." He coos at you, taking the rag off of your head as you stir awake.
"Hm? Simon?" You say, waking up.
"Yes lovie it's me. What's all this?" He asks, cupping your cheek.
"Oh baby you're burning up." He sighs.
You cough and his eyes flicker with pity and a sense of protectiveness.
"When did this happen?" He asks.
"Last night. You were sleeping and I didn't wanna wake you since I knew you had a meeting today. You left while I was still asleep." You muttered.
"Oh sweetheart were you like this all day?" He asks, placing his palm on your forehead.
"mhm" You nod.
"C'mere." Simon demands, climbing up onto the bed with you, brushing away the used tissues, and pulling you into his lap despite your protests of getting him sick.
"Nuh uh, none of that. Did you shower? The steam will help your sinuses."
You shake your head no.
"Was too tired." You say, turning your head to cough.
"Oh honey." Simon coos.
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up yeah? Don't want you feeling icky." He says.
Simon then picks you up bridal style and brings you to the bathroom where he starts up a shower for you.
"Go on, relax in here for a bit. When you come out I'll have new clothes and sheets and everything for you ok love? You ok to stand?" He asks with his big brown eyes that only soften for you.
"Yes honey thank you." You say with your nasally congested voice.
When you come out of the shower, Simon greets you with a towel and your favorite pajamas. The sheets have been changed, the tissues thrown away as well as a new box of them next to a tiny garbage can to throw them away in, and a bowl of soup and crackers on a tray on the bedside table.
Simon is crouching on the floor plugging in a humidifier when he hears you walk in.
"Ah there she is. You feelin' any better lovey?" He asks walking up to you, feeling your cheeks and forehead for changes in temperature.
"Yes thank you baby." You respond with a smile. Your heart was absolutely melting right now with the way he was treating you.
He leans in and kisses your forehead where you furrow your brows in protest.
"I'm gonna get you sick Si." You pout.
"I've got no where to be for the next two weeks. If I get sick I get sick." He says sternly, and you smile.
"Now get in that bed. I don't wanna see you move a finger unless it's an emergency until my girl's all better yeah? I'll spoon feed ya if I have to." Simon says with a smirk.
You have no idea how you got so lucky.
Johnny would honestly not be too far off except you'd be begging him to give you some space.
He comes home with every soup imaginable, three gallons of orange juice, the entire pharmacy, and every bath bomb he could find.
"Johnny please! I'm gonna get you sick!" You protest pushing his chest away as he cuddles you in a bear hug on the couch.
"None of that lass. I'd rather get sick than watch my bonnie thing suffer." He says, not budging.
"I'm not suffering Johnny I just have a cough." You say, giving up squirming out of his grasp.
"When my girl is uncomfortable, the whole world should stop until she's all better. Now which soup do you want for dinner. I got every one possible."
He won't stop taking your temperature either. He's gripping your jaw forcing you to put the thermometer in your mouth because "what if it was wrong that time?"
"C'mon be a good bonnie lass and open up for me yeah?" You grumble and obey. It's not like you had a choice anyway from how he was holding you in place.
When you refuse to take your medicine he's doing the same thing. Firmly but gently gripping your jaw so he can make you take your cough syrup you refuse to take but he'd be damned if you feel uncomfortable from the sore throat it gives you for a second.
He's waking up every hour to place his hand on your face to see if you still have a fever, and every time you swat his hand away. But to be honest it's kind of cute seeing him so worried about you.
When you shower he'd scratch at the door like a puppy trying to get in.
"C'mon lass let me in. What if you faint from the heat huh? You already got a fever." He whines, and you laugh, eventually letting him in where he washes your hair and body for you, not letting you do a thing.
And he's gonna kiss you all over and snuggle you until you suffocate. It's just a given and there's nothing you can do about it. He just wants you to feel loved and to have your mind taken off the fact you can't speak without having a coughing fit or the cold sweats from the fever. It's what his pretty little lass deserves :)
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