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steveseddie · 2 days ago

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looking for something dumb to do

written for @steddiebingo 12 days of christmas mini event | prompt: proposal | rating: t | wc: 2,1k | tags: modern setting, past billy/steve, first meetings, flirting, fake proposal

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Eddie sits at the restaurant, scrolling mindlessly on his phone, waiting for Wayne.

He laughs at yet another one of those hilarious videos of parents doing the Grinch prank on their kids. Seriously, there are so many and he finds them infinitely amusing. He just sent the latest one to Gareth, knowing he’ll get a kick out of it too, and is waiting for his reply when someone slides into the seat in front of him.

He knows it’s not his uncle before he even looks up because he just texted Eddie to say he was running late– and ain’t that rich coming from the same man who’s always complaining about Eddie never being on time?

Anyway.

Eddie locks his phone just as Gareth’s reply comes in but he does get a glimpse of a string of laughing emojis before he looks up. “Sorry, man, that seat is–”

But the rest of the words die in his throat when his brain momentarily stops working. It does that sometimes, especially around hot guys. Like the one sitting in front of Eddie, staring at him with a tiny frown between his eyebrows, probably wondering why Eddie stopped talking like he got sniped.

“Taken. That seat is taken,” he finishes. Unlike me, Eddie thinks as he gives the guy an obvious once-over.

“Shit, sorry, of course, but can you– can you hear me out for a second?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, his interest piqued. The guy is hunched over himself like he’s trying to hide and his voice has a frantic tilt.

“Uh sure, man, what’s up?”

The guy probably expected Eddie to tell him to fuck off because he lets out a relieved little sigh when he agrees to listen to him. Then he leans over the table, lowering his voice.

“Do you see that guy with the mustache waiting at the entrance? He’s my ex-boyfriend and a dick and he just showed up with the girl that he cheated on me with,” he explains hurriedly.

Eddie locates the guy waiting to be seated and the girl holding his hand. He’s hot and she’s hot but the guy sitting in front of him has them both beat.

“So I haven’t seen him since I caught them together and ended things with him and– you know when you break up with someone and constantly think about how things will go when you run into them again? How they’ll see you and realize they lost the breakup and made a mistake by letting you go?” Eddie gives a short nod and the guy keeps going. “Right so that was my plan, only there’s a problem because the guy I was meeting for dinner tonight stood me up and now I’m here alone and pathetic and fucking Billy is here with his fiancée! Yes, they’re going to get married! Even if he always insisted he would never do that and–”

He keeps rambling but Eddie is stuck on the fact that not only did this guy get cheated on but also someone stood him up. What the fuck?

If he ever went on a date with someone as hot as him, Eddie would lock him down faster than anyone can say–

“–help?”

Eddie blinks. Shit. The guy just asked him something and he has no idea what it was.

“Uh, s–sure, how can I help?”

Despite his flawless attempt to make it seem like he was paying attention, the guy can tell Eddie zoned out at some point. It drags an amused chuckle out of him. “I thought I could sit here with you until they leave or until they are seated and I can sneak out without them seeing me,” he says, running a hand through his hair and giving Eddie a sheepish look.

Eddie’s phone lights up with a text then. The guy’s eyes dart down, and even if he can’t read what it says, he makes his own assumptions.

“Unless– unless your date is almost here and you need me to fuck off before they arrive?” He says, his expression turning panicked again. He moves his chair back as if to get up and leave, almost taking out the poor waiter.

Eddie reaches across the table and grabs hold of his sweater, stopping him. “Actually my date is just my uncle and he said he’s running late,” he says with his fingers wrapped around the guy’s wrist.

His eyes flicker down, widening a little but he doesn’t pull his hand back. “So?”

“So you can stay.”

The guy visibly relaxes. “Fuck, thanks so much–”

“Eddie,” he offers when the guy trails off.

“Thanks, Eddie,” the guy says with a lopsided grin that makes Eddie’s chest flutter.

Eddie nods and leans back until his chair is balancing on two legs. He has no choice but to let go of the guy’s sweater. “So what are we doing here? Are we friends? Are we on a first date? Have we been dating for a while? What’s the game plan, big boy?”

The guy sputters, adorably flustered. “We don’t– we don’t have to do anything like that, man.”

“Why? I’m not pretty enough to make your ex jealous?” Eddie teases, pouting a little.

“No!” The guy hurries to say then realizes what that sounds like and blushes furiously. “I mean– no, that’s not it. You’re definitely pretty. Handsome. Hot. Uh–”

Eddie can’t help the way his grin gets bigger with every compliment until he can feel his dimples digging into his cheeks. By then the guy’s face is as red as the tablecloth. “Oh keep ‘em coming, sweetheart. Flattery definitely works on me.”

He chuckles nervously. “It’s just– I can’t ask you to do that, man.”

“Do what? Pretend that a guy like me can get a date with someone as hot as you?” He leans forward again, resting his chin on his palms and smirking. “Oh, baby, it would be my pleasure.”

“Jesus,” the guy mutters. Eddie’s blatant flirting doesn’t give him a chance to get his blush under control. “I guess we could pretend we’re on a date if you’re up for it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices Billy and his fiancée following a waiter to their table. They’re going to walk right past them and there’s no way he won’t see Steve. As they get closer, Eddie catches a glimpse of the engagement ring on the girl’s finger–

“I’ll do you one better,” he says as he gets an idea. “Do you trust me?”

The guy lets out an amused laugh. “I just met you,” he says, and when Eddie shrugs like he’s saying– so? he adds, “Okay, sure, why not?”

Eddie shoots him a grin. “What’s your name?”

“Steve.”

“Your full name.”

“Harrington,” Steve says, his face pulling into a frown. “Why do you need my last–”

“Steve Harrington!” Eddie says loudly, watching as Steve’s eyes widen almost comically. The people around them whip their heads in their direction, including Billy and his girl. Perfect.

“I was planning to do this after dinner but I just can’t hold myself back anymore,” Eddie continues just as loudly. He furtively removes one of his many rings before pushing his chair back and standing up.

He shoots Steve a quick wink and drops down on one knee.

“Oh my God,” Steve whispers disbelievingly as he understands what’s happening. His shock only makes Eddie’s plan more believable.

“Steve, Stevie, sweetheart, I still remember the moment when we met like it was five minutes ago,” he starts, watching Steve’s lips twitch almost imperceptibly. “I remember thinking you were so fucking out of my league you shouldn’t even be talking to me, but fate willed it so, and now I’m lucky enough to call you mine. So now I ask you to let me call you mine forever. Steve, the love of my life, my Prince Charming, the best lay I’ve ever had, will you please marry me?” He finishes by holding up his ring, looking expectantly at Steve, wondering if he’ll play along.

He does.

Wiping a fake tear, he leans forward on his chair, cupping Eddie’s cheeks between his hands. “Eddie, our time together might seem short but I’ve always known I was right to pick you,” Steve says and Eddie has to hold back a snigger when he follows his lead– sticking to the truth as much as they can. “Now I’m picking you again. Forever. Yes, I will marry you.”

The people around them start clapping when Eddie takes Steve’s hand and slides his ring on his finger. He presses a kiss to the back of his hand, earning some cooing from the two women sitting on the table next to theirs. Billy doesn’t clap and his nose wrinkles when Steve pulls Eddie to his feet and into a hug, glaring at the back of his head.

Eddie can’t help but smirk against Steve’s shoulder.

“You’re insane,” he mutters into Eddie’s hair. It should be weird hugging a stranger but Eddie actually enjoys it. It feels familiar somehow. “Thank you.”

Eddie pulls back and grins, his hands still on Steve’s hips. “Aren’t you glad you picked me, huh, sweetheart?”

Steve lets out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

“Eddie?” A familiar gruff voice says and Eddie whips his head around to see his uncle approaching, his eyes darting from Eddie to Steve to Eddie’s hands on Steve’s waist and Steve’s arms looped around Eddie’s neck.

“Wayne!” He says, his grin not faltering for a second. This isn’t the weirdest thing Wayne has walked in on when it comes to Eddie. “You’re just in time to meet your new son-in-law!”

Wayne’s eyebrows shoot up and next to him, Steve makes a strangled sound.

Eddie signals a waiter and it turns out to be the same one who was guiding Billy and his girl to their table before. Billy is nowhere to be found, he probably scurried off to their table while Steve and Eddie were distracted with each other, hoping Steve wouldn’t see him. Serves you right, asshole, he thinks triumphantly.

“What can I do for the happy couple? Congratulations, by the way,” the waiter says and Eddie beams, pulling Steve closer with the arm wrapped around his waist.

“Thank you, kind sir. Can you get us another chair for my uncle?”

The waiter nods and goes to retrieve one.

“Eddie, you don’t have to– I can just go–” Steve says, a faint pink blush covering his cheeks.

“I can’t let you leave, Steve. We’re engaged now, it’d look weird,” Eddie says, and it’s true but he also doesn’t want to say goodbye to Steve yet.

And maybe Steve doesn’t want to say goodbye either because he folds easily. “Yeah, okay.”

They explain to Wayne what he walked into and his uncle gets a kick out of it. He and Steve get along surprisingly well, and by the end of the night, it almost feels like Steve was part of their dinner plans from the beginning.

Wayne leaves shortly after dessert but Steve and Eddie stick around for one more drink, neither of them wanting the night to end.

It has to, eventually, but Eddie is pretty sure that this won’t be the last he sees of Steve, not after they spent the whole night getting to know each other and flirting up a storm.

On their way out they run into Billy and his girlfriend, and Steve almost seems surprised when they do. Like he forgot Billy was there, despite him being the reason why he talked to Eddie in the first place. Their conversation is short but Eddie makes sure to hold Steve’s hand the whole time and call Billy ‘Bobby’ a total of three times just to annoy him.

After they leave, Eddie walks Steve to his car.

“Thanks again,” he says, leaning against the door. “For helping me out. And for dinner.”

“It was my pleasure,” Eddie smiles. “We should do it again sometime.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Stage a proposal?”

Eddie chuckles. “Well, I was thinking about dinner but I’m always happy to get down on my knees for a hot guy,” he says with a wink.

A slightly strangled laugh tumbles out of Steve’s lip but his eyes sparkle with interest. “Maybe let’s start with dinner. Just the two of us.”

They exchange numbers, promising to call each other. When Eddie turns around to start walking toward his van, Steve calls his name.

“Don’t forget your ring,” he says, sliding it off.

But Eddie reaches out to stop him. “Keep it,” he says, “you can give it to me next time.”

With a grin, Steve slides it back on.

He ends up keeping the ring, but that’s okay because Eddie gets to keep Steve.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddiebingo12daysofchristmas #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie is sooo extra and me and steve both love him for it #steve harrington #eddie munson #monse writes

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keferon · 3 days ago

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“We’ll see Earth again.” Swerve says it not because he knows for certain, but because he has to believe it.

———————————————

“You don’t have to, you know…”. Jazz gestures vaguely at Swerve’s holoform as he takes a seat next to Jazz on the edge of the bar.

“I know. But it just feels natural, sometimes.” Swerve doesn’t know how to explain it. That he knows his holoform better than his own frame some days. And if he just walked around like this on the ship, he’d get stares. But with Jazz….

“I know what you mean.” Jazz laughs. “Piloting my mech always felt natural. And then I ended up living out of it for a while after my trip through space. Spent so long inside that wiring and metal and electrical signals felt more like me than flesh and blood. Once Prowl found out…took me a while to remember how to be human outside my mech. I still miss it sometimes.”

Jazz is gazes off at a projection against the far wall. Swerve looks closer and recognizes it as a star map of the galaxies. And he wonders if Jazz is just talking about mechs anymore.

“Hard to believe Earth is just one of those tiny dots,” Jazz says softly. “It’s hard to believe any of it still sometimes. That I’m actually out here, on an actual spaceship, with aliens that aren’t just trying to kill us all. With Prowl. With you. I mean, what are the chances?”

What are the chances indeed, Swerve thinks. That of all the ships he just happened to end up on the same one as Jazz and Prowl. But he’s glad in a way. Because otherwise — otherwise he might never have realized that his dreams, his fantasies were anything more than that.

“I’m actually glad, in a way,” Jazz says, echoing Swerve’s own thoughts. “Glad to know we’re not alone in this. Glad to get to know you — the whole you. Glad to have met Prowl. But — I miss Earth, miss home.”

“I miss Earth too,” Swerve says. “A lot. Sometimes…sometimes when I think about the life I lived there it feels more alive, more like I was living then anything I can remember before my accident.”

Swerve had friends, had a job, had hobbies. Had people, including Jazz, — people who were a part of his life and whose lives he was a part of. People who would notice his absence, who would miss his presence. (People who did notice him go missing. Swerve’s seen the status next to his own name in mecha logs. Him and Jazz.)

“We’ll see Earth again.” Swerve says it not because he knows for certain, but because he has to believe it. He needs to see it. Needs to get back.

Because he knows what he’s not telling Jazz. That things back on Earth are not nearly as good as they are here. That things are falling apart. But he has to believe that it’s not too late. That they can still help, if only they can get there. If only they can do something.

“You think so?” Jazz looks directly at Swerve, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I do,” Swerve says. “Because while you were doing whatever pilot training it is that they have you do to go into space, you know what we were doing? There was a whole team of us behind you — mechanics and engineers — training to support the mission. What to do if things went right. What to do if they went wrong. How to make sure we brought you home. We looked everywhere for you.”

Computations of oxygen supplies, food, water, potential mech damage. All to try and determine the likely survival windows in space. The long days and longer nights and dwindling hopes as the search had stretched on. The memory gives Swerve pause for the briefest moment. But none of their computations could ever have accounted for all the complexities of reality.

“And I found you,” Swerve says, brightening slightly.

“We found Earth.” He points vaguely at the projection. “That’s already two thirds of the way there!”

Swerve grins broadly.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to have a friend like you here.” Jazz throws an arm over Swerves shoulder as he says it. “Next stop, Earth.”

HELP the fact that they both miss Earth despite Jazz being a human and Swerve being an alien is kind of poetic and I’m SO here for it

#I LOVE IT #KDKJFJFJDJD #maccadam #tf mecha universe #mecha writing #mecha bs writing

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jarofstyles · 3 days ago

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The Heart Of The Woods

Hi my loves! I wanted to give you guys a peek into our grumpy mountain manrry! He’s different to some that I’ve written before but I think you’ll like him if you give him a chance

Read the series ( 9 parts ongoing) and 220+ exclusive writings on our Patreon!

WC- 1.4k

Warnings- tiny bit of rejection, asshole h

He hadn’t been sure what he was thinking.

Hiring a housekeeper had not been on his agenda, but it put his mum at ease. Being far from her, up in his large cabin in the middle of the mountain, she had said she worried a lot about not only his well being, but about him overworking himself. His days started early, working on splitting wood, emails, driving down to deliver it, and all of that. His group of employees that worked on the lot not too far from his own place up the mountain were his main source of socialization and even they knew not to bug him too much.

Harry preferred to be left alone.

So why hire a housekeeper? It sounded okay at the time. Someone to keep the fire stoked and the house warm so he could come home and not have the house be cold for him and his animals, someone to cook and clean and… another body in the house. Make it less lonely. Maple was a good companion, Ash was too, but a dog and a cat didn’t replace human connection. Perhaps that’s why he had found himself feeling more irritated lately.

Watching the car pull in, he had to wonder how she could fit her belongings into such a small vehicle. Weren't women supposed to have a lot of stuff? The question was answered as she stepped out of the car, light wash jeans clinging to her thighs and pink sweater hanging on her form as she waved up to him. "Hi!" she grinned a tad bit too brightly for his comfort, jogging up to the wraparound porch. "I’m so sorry l'm a little late. I got lost at the turn- the split in the road? and I didn't have good service to call and let you know. I usually try and do that.”

She was rambling.

He grumbled, wiping his hands on his work pants. “Late's fine. I didn’t have any plans today, just don’t make a habit of it.” Glancing at her car, then back at her, he gave her a little bit of a look. “You got everything you need?” He wasn’t the best at socializing, famously, but she wasn’t aware of that yet considering their talk had mainly consisted of emails. It would be something she quickly found out.

“Oh!” Her chuckle was nervous as the man stood tall above her on the wooden porch, making her look up a bit at him. “Uh, yeah. I.. I kinda had to get out of my place in a hurry, so this worked out.” She smiled up at him before looking back to her car. “Did you want me to grab my stuff now or did you want me to do it after you give me the run down of what you want me to do?”

He sighed, stepping aside to let her pass. “Follow me.” He led her inside, shutting the door behind her. It was weird feeling someone else in his space. It had been a long time since he’d heard footsteps other than his own or his pets in the hall, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it yet. Leading her down the wooden hall, he brought her towards the main part of the house- a large step down living room he mentally referred to as the den. The stone fireplace was lit with the fire going already as he gestured to a chair by it. “Sit.”

Y/N was distracted a little by the skylight- and then the view outside. It was absolutely gorgeous. The whole place was. She had slightly underestimated it despite the size of the place when she had applied to work eyes but she would make it work. At least the view was great. She could see that there was a deck outside, the view of the mountains sprawling behind them sort of blowing her away. The awe only lasted a few moments though, when she heard him clear his throat. Oops. “Sorry.” She smiled nervously. “The view distracted me. You’ve got a beautiful home.”

He grunted, not really used to compliments. Small talk wasn’t his thing. He sat down in his recliner, stretching his legs out in front of him before resting his hands on his knees. “So, as your employer, I expect you t’keep this place clean. Cook meals, do laundry, that sort of thing.” He paused, looking at her critically. “M’not home most of the day, and when I am I’m usually in my workshop. It’s the building out to the side that you saw.” He clasped his hands together. “We don’t need to have a ton of interaction. I need you to keep the fire stoked, maybe feed Ash for me if I get back late. I don’t have a lot of rules, but I ask you to respect my space.”

“Uh, alright.” She nodded, taking out her phone to take notes. “I figured the normal house stuff. I…” Her body felt the cringe as she went to ask it. “I haven’t really stoked a fire longer than it’s taken to do a bonfire while camping so, if there’s some sort of magic you know to keep it going longer I’d love to know it.” The girl didn’t want to fuck it up. The man worked with wood. The last thing she wanted to do was waste it.

It did make her a little unsettled to hear the other part, though. “Um, and what do you mean exactly by not needing to interact? Like, you don’t want to see or hear from me?”

Harry paused, his gaze sharpening a little on the girl. He was used to being alone. He liked being alone. He didn’t want to come home to some sort of chatty roommate. “I mean exactly that.” He said gruffly.

“Oh.” She replied quietly, swallowing the lump on her throat. Her gaze averted when his sharpened on hers, looking towards her lap. He was a little intimidating and she felt embarrassed for some reason- but logically she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. Didn’t mean her body knew that, though.

“O-Okay. I’ll make sure to give you your space.” Her head nodded, convincing herself it would be good for her. Maybe akin to rejection therapy. She had hoped for something a little different, but this was the escape she had needed- she couldn’t complain. “Can you tell me what kind of foods you like, or don’t, so I can make what you’ll eat?”

Harry grunted, his expression relaxing slightly at the mention of food. He hated being bothered with small talk, but food was something he could appreciate- it was part of her job, anyways. He could talk abojt that. “I like meat and potatoes. Steak, roast chicken, mashed potatoes, that sort of thing. Don’t bother with fancy shit. Just straightforward, hearty food.”

He paused, thinking for a moment before continuing. “And coffee. Black coffee. None of that fancy latte crap. Just straight up coffee.” He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “That’s all you need to know for now. You can start preparing dinner and I’ll be back later.”

“Oh! I… are you sure?” She stood up too, following him. “Where should I put my things?” Part of her felt a little nervous she had fucked up with how fast he seemed to want to get out of there, but she didn’t know what she could have done to offend him. Was this just the way he was? Probably. She shouldn’t take it personally- but part of her did, just a bit. “I don’t know which room I should set my things up in.”

Harry turned around, his expression still stern. “You can set up in the spare room down the hall. It’s the first door on the right.” He pointed down the hallway before continuing. “I don’t need any help with my things. Just worry about your own shit for now.”

Her eyes fell down towards the floor, nodding at his words. It must just be the way he was, she concluded. He didn’t bother saying goodbye as she heard the door close, the ticking of the large grandfather clock in the den the only sound until the start of his pickup was muffled outside.

Who the hell was this man? And what had she gotten herself into?

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littlcdarlin · 1 day ago

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dbf!Joel headcanons

warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)

note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!

He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it

Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation

He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you

When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them

He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much

He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you

He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you

He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s

When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him

He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately

He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him

When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true

Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep

He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger

During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable

It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you

He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him

Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.

The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.

He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good

He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want

When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel

He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour

He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night

As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close

He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone

He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech

#joel miller x reader #mine #my writing #joel miller game #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us part 1 #tlou1 #joel miller x y/n #dbf!joel #dbf!joel x reader #joel miller headcanons #Joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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anenbylittlepotato · 3 days ago

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Tears of Love (Genshin 2)

Includes: Diluc, Wriothesley, Navia, Kokomi, Shenhe, Thoma

Warnings: none that I can think of

Part 1

Heyyy, it’s time for my annual trying to revive this and get back into writing,,, I’ll really try to get back to it this time, but no promises

How Genshin character would react if you started crying and then saying "I just love you so muuuucch..."

Diluc

The two of you are alone together in his room and he’s holding you gently telling you how much he loves you.

And then??? While he’s talking you just??? Start crying???

”S/O? What’s the matter, love, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry-”

”I just- I love you so muuuuccchhh…”

He blinks in surprise, processing that for a moment.

”I… S/O, do you mean to tell me that you’re crying because… of how much you love me?”

When you nod, he visibly relaxes and just pulls you against him, gently cupping you cheek and wiping the tears away from your face.

”I love you too, my dearest. More than anything. And I can assure than even though I’m not as… emotional about it as you, that I certainly mean that from the depths of my soul.”

Then he hugs you tightly, burying his face into your hair

Wriothesley

The two of you are sitting and talking together of cups of tea.

You aren’t sure what it is, but something about a small little term of endearment he says just makes you really emotional

When he sees you start crying, he immediately puts his tea down and jumps up and moves closer to you.

”Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong, baby, what happened?”

He carefully takes your tea from you and sets it down as well before pulling you into his arms.

”I just- I love you so muchhhhhh…”

He blinks in surprise for a moment before he starts laughing a bit.

”Oh, Archons, babe, you scared the hell outta me…”

He gently cups your cheeks and lifts your face to look at him

“I love you too, but you can’t just start crying outta nowhere with no warning or explanation. I thought something happened to you and I’d have to kick some ass, y’know?”

He then gives you a little kiss on the forehead before hugging you again, this time holding you until you’re done crying.

Navia

One day, you’re just hanging out, not doing much when Navia happily walks in the door.

”S/O! Are you hungry? I brought you some sweets! I made them myself!”

She pulls out two boxes of sweets and places them on the table.

“Here! You can pick whichever one you want! I’ll take whichever one is left!”

She does this a lot but for some reason the sweetness of it really hits you this time and you find yourself crying.

She gasps in distress.

”Oh no, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

She rushes over and cups your cheeks, gently kissing your forehead.

”I just- I just love you so muuuuch…”

”Oh-!”

She was not expecting that-

She giggles a little, sitting down with you and hugging you against her.

”Aww, that’s so sweet! You are just the cutest thing! I love you too darling.”

She then takes your face in her hands again and starts peppering it with kisses.

Sangonomiya Kokomi

When Kokomi gets home from performing her duties as Divine Priestess, all she’s always exhausted and all she wants to do is curl up with you and take a nap.

And you know this.

But lately, you’ve been sick, so today when you get home she decides that she’s going to make some soup for you, despite how exhausted she is.

So she does exactly that and goes to take it to you.

”S/O, I know you’ve been sick, so I decided to make you some soup to help you feel better.”

She walks over and carefully places the bowl on the bedside table next to you.

You find yourself thinking just how sweet it is that she took the time and energy to make you this despite how exhausted you know she is.

And now you’re crying-

“Oh no, what’s the matter, dear? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

”I just- I love you so muuuccchhh…”

She blinks, and then she giggles softly.

”Awwww, you’re so sweet. I love you, too, dear.”

She reaches over and gently pets your head.

Shenhe

One day the two of you are walking through Liyue Harbor when suddenly you twist your ankle. Now you’re having a hard time walking.

Shenhe notices this and promptly decides to sweep you up into her arms, bridal style.

She then proceeds to carry you the rest of the way home and carefully tends to your injured foot.

You can’t help but think about how she’s so strong, she could probably snap you in half like a twig. And yet, here she is, being ever so gentle with you

You aren’t able to stop the tears thay come flowing out.

Her gaze immediately snaps toward you.

”Are you okay? Did I make it too tight? I can loosen it-”

”No, it’s just- I love you so muuuucch…”

She’s so surprised by that that she has no idea what to say for several moments, just staring at you with wide eyes.

”Oh. I um… I love you too. I didn’t expect you to start crying about it though. Is that… normal?”

She moves closer, gently cupping your cheek

You’ll have to explain it to her lol, she doesn’t get it-

Thoma

One day, you come home from a particularly exhausting day at work, and like usual, Thoma greets you at the door with his bright and sunny smile.

”Hi, sweetheart! Are you hungry? I made your favorite today! Oh- you look pretty tired too. I can draw you a bath while you eat! How does that sound?”

After the long day you’ve had you’re just so overwhelmed by just how sweet he is that you can’t help by start crying, immediately hugging him.

”Oh, sweetheart… was it that bad today? Alright, c’mon, let’s go eat and I’ll draw you that bath and then after that I can give you a massage, okay?”

”I love you so muuuccchh…”

He chuckles a bit as he guides you to the dining area.

”I love you too, S/O.”

Then, he really does draw you a bath once you’re done eating and gives you a massage and even makes a cup of hot cocoa for you.

Really the ultimate malewife frfr

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gods-favorite-autistic · 1 day ago

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Selkie Fabian with selkie Hallariel au you see the vision

Bill accidentally stole Hallariels pelt while he was pillaging in Fallinel and Hallariel fucking hunted him down

Bill fell in love the second she took his eye out but Hallariel only married him because he promised her a life of freedom and adventure on the sea something she’d never had before and she fell in love with him along the way

Telemaine was extremely protective of his daughter because he knew that like a half elf half selkie wouldn’t be very well received in Fallinel so she always hid her selkie-ness up until she left and stopped giving a shit about what Kei Lumennura thought

Part of why she left was because Telemaine refused to let her near the sea (he insisted that her mother learned to live without the sea to keep herself safe so she could too) but he finally caved after Bill stole her pelt because “I’m in danger either way at least I’m not miserable at sea”

She planned on only marrying Bill for a few years before going back home until she actually fell in love and then got pregnant

Fabian was allowed a lot more freedom than Hallariel had growing up but he was still told a bunch of horror stories about selkies getting their pelts stolen so he is very protective of his pelt

Like so protective that the Bad Kids didn’t even find out until like halfway through sophomore year (he only told them because Riz jokingly tried it on when they were all hanging out and Fabian snatched it away in a panic)

The main reason they have as big of a pool as they do is because Hallariel insisted on having someplace her and Fabian could shift

Fabian still misses the ocean terribly and travels down there on weekends he can get away

When Kalvaxus set their houses on fire he had to stop himself from running to check his room and find his pelt because his parents were in danger

When he got home after prom Cathilda immediately handed his pelt to him because she knew he’d be panicking about it

Cathilda knows about Fabian being a selkie (of course she does she practically raised him) but he didn’t realize she knew until he was about 12 (he thought he was being sneaky) so it became sort of a game for her to see how much she could tease him about it before he realized she knew

She insists on washing his pelt because he insists on storing it with the rest of his clothes and she doesn’t want it to get dirty (she always framed it as something similar to giving his selkie form a shower) but she has a rigorous washing process that she insists on doing every time despite it taking like an hour each time

The first week after she gets sober Hallariel takes Fabian down to the beach and gets in the ocean for the first time since she had him

Before Fabian she always insisted she would not become some trophy piece lying around Bill Seacasters house like most of the selkies she’d heard about who married pirates (and the she had Fabian and then…yeah)

Fabian and Mazey have a tendency to borrow each others clothes and it’s all great fun until Mazey takes his pelt without realizing thinking it’s just a regular coat (he is scared to death of telling anyone he’s romantically involved with that he’s a selkie cause, y’know, horror stories) and he has a genuine panic attack when he can’t find it

About an hour after this happens Riz (who Fabian had asked to find the pelt) shows up at Mazey’s doorstep demanding the pelt back and Mazey is just so confused

Fabian finally tells her like a week later and she feels just so bad

Hallariel doesn’t fully trust the Bad Kids until she learns they know Fabian is a selkie

Gorgug starts joining Fabian on his late night oceanside trips after they all find out (he says it’s because it’s not safe for Fabian to be out there alone but it’s really because he just wants to hang out with his friend)

So so many beach trips with the party over summer after junior year (would’ve been sophomore but yknow night yor-*I am shot in the head by Riz Gukgak killing me instantly*)

Kristen challenges Fabian to an underwater breath holding contest and like just to freak them out he just kinda stays under for like 5 minutes

He can stay underwater for a while when he has his pelt but when he got possessed on Leviathan sophomore year he had to leave it behind and when he doesn’t have it he’s kinda shit at holding his breath naturally (he never trained it because he assumed he wouldn’t have to deal with being in the water without his pelt a lot but he started training it after that)

He has control over how much he shifts when he’s in the water with his pelt so unless it’s been like a while and he’s craving the ocean he’ll usually go for just like patches of seal fur along his body and occasionally he’ll let his feet turn partially tail-like if he feels like swimming a lot

The Bad Kids think his patchy form is just so adorable (he would be fully human around them since he’s still not fully comfortable with it but the halfway form is kind of the lowest he’s able to dial it when he has his pelt in the water)

Jawbone finds out partway through junior year (Adaine makes an off handed remark about Fabian’s pelt and he was just very confused) and once he finds out he immediately starts researching the shit out of selkies

He finds out that there’s a support group at Aguefort for selkie students and he gives Fabian the information

Fabian very reluctantly goes and actually enjoys it a lot (it’s less like a support group like it says and just kinda like a place for selkie students to hang out and bond with other selkies) so he keeps going weekly

They were all very skeptical of him when he first showed up (I mean the most popular kid in school who is also the son of a world renowned pirate showing up to a selkie hangout when nobody knows he’s a selkie feels like a red flag) but he brought his pelt with him just in case to make sure they knew he wasn’t an enemy

At first he has a bunch of people giving him pity because they assume Bill basically abducted his mom but he shuts that shit down quick (“if my papa tried to abduct my mama she would’ve taken out his other eye and slit his throat”)

They are all so jealous of the fact that he actually lived on the sea for most of his life (they have a monthly trip to the beach because most of them aren’t able to go out that much and a good majority of the people in Elmville have lived there all their lives or most of their lives)

Ok yeah that’s it for now I just got selkie Fabian in my head and couldn’t get it out

#autism (mads) speaks #fabian aramais seacaster #fabian seacaster #fantasy high #hallariel seacaster #bill seacaster #dimension 20 fantasy high #d20 fantasy high #the bad kids

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silkscream · 2 days ago

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CHAPTER 17: FORCE OF NATURE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: angst, vaginal sex, rough sex, prone-bone, dubcon

ੈ✩ wc: 6.9k

ੈ✩ a/n: there's your dinner

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2010

When Suguru fucks you, lately, he’s gentle.

It’s only slightly unlike him. He’s often pent-up from missions, the same way that Satoru is, but the need instilled in him is different. Quieter. You can’t encapsulate it in words — it’s all feeling.

You think that maybe this is the reason that you sometimes favor him. It makes you feel guilty. Beyond all of Satoru’s faults and flaws, you know that he loves you. It all comes out in jagged, messy ways, but he does.

Being with Suguru alone feels… simpler. There is nothing unkempt about him. Every time he needs you, he never begs. It’s often the other way around.

It’s easy for you to be pliable for him with just a few words. Conversations that make you feel larger than life, faint touches that have your skin shivering. He makes you feel like a girl. Desperate and easily enraptured.

While Satoru is loud and talkative, Suguru is reserved and magnetizing. There are moments in between classes when he takes your hand and lies with you in the grass, sharing soft-spoken jokes and murmurs. There’s always something guarding his mind. You can tell. It only makes you want to pry even more, but Suguru is good at deflecting.

You’d be content to share a bed with him and simply stare at his face for hours. Sometimes, you’re with Satoru and you yearn for that. The things that Satoru babbles on about go through one ear and out the other. His energy is always frenetic whereas yours is starting to feel lethargic.

Through early April, cherry blossoms begin to fall, coating the grounds of Jujutsu Tech in a soft pink blanket. You’re surrounded in heaven wherever you are.

Satoru is bombarded with solo missions. Meanwhile, your company is kept with Suguru, who sleeps in your bed with you most nights.

At the moment, you’re tangled with him. The moonlight casts a silvery glow across his features. Sometimes, he doesn’t even look human to you. You could swear that he was sent to Earth as a being born from the stars. You feel pathetic and corny even thinking about it.

Despite being wrapped up in you, his eyes are distant, focused on something beyond the confines of the room. Beyond your reach. Aside from the chorus of cicadas outside, silence stretches between you.

“Suguru,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “What are you thinking about?”

He turns to you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Nothing important," he murmurs, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

You're not satisfied with this answer. It's always like this lately - his thoughts locked away behind an impenetrable wall. You sit up, pulling the sheet around you, frustration bubbling up in your chest. The tenderness of moments before evaporates, replaced by a tension that crackles between you like static electricity.

“You’re clearly thinking about something.”

“I’m not,” he answers softly. “Just you. Just thinking about how pretty you are.”

You sigh. “That’s all?”

He gives you a smug grin. “You don’t like being told you’re pretty?”

“I do. Maybe I just want to pick your brain sometimes. Rummage inside of it like a treasure chest.”

He scoffs. “Just because Satoru says everything that’s on his mind doesn’t mean I have to.”

Your face flickers with disappointment at his tone. He probably didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it came out more curt than you expected.

“Don’t you tell him everything on your mind, though?”

“Sometimes, I guess. He’s my best friend.”

Then what am I?

You almost say it out loud.

“Have you talked to him lately?” you ask. “He hasn’t been answering my texts.”

“Shocker,” Suguru replies, a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue. You frown slightly.

“He always answers.”

“He’s also the strongest,” he snorts. “Can’t always dote on his little wifey, can he?”

“What?”

His smirk falters slightly. “I’m just kidding, baby,” he says softly, kissing your nose. “He’s probably busy or he doesn’t have service.”

“Are you two fighting again?” you blurt out.

Suguru raises a brow in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I just know that sometimes the two of you argue. And you know, the bruises—”

“The ones from sparring or the ones from sex?”

You’re quiet. Both, you want to say. But then it occurs to you that none of it is particularly your business.

It was always difficult to tell where you stood between the two of them. It was as if you were on a constant current, buoying towards rough waters where you didn’t belong.

“I— um. I don’t know. I just noticed things have been… tense.”

He stares at you blankly. “Things are fine.”

“Are they?” You have the urge to ask him a million questions. Was everything fine? Between him and Satoru, you felt like a thinning rope in a tug of war, but always unsure of who was pulling harder.

“You just seem, I don’t know… off lately,” you continue, mumbling. “I can’t help but wonder if something’s bothering you.”

He pauses before speaking again. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

He rolls his eyes and it guts you more than it should. “Just a lot. There’s more cursed user activity, more grueling missions. I’ll probably get assigned more soon.”

“You’re doing it again. Deflecting.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re just—” you sigh, “You're always... guarded. I feel like there's a part of you I can't reach.”

Suguru's expression remains impassive, but you notice the slight tightening of his jaw. He sits up as well, his bare chest gleaming in the dim light. "I've given you all of me that I can."

"Don't do that," you say, your voice sharper than you intend. "Don't brush me off."

"I'm not brushing you off. You’re throwing a tantrum because you’re expecting me to spill all my thoughts like you’re my therapist. Or are you feeling insecure and you want some grand romantic gesture from me? There’s nothing to say either way.”

You blink at him rapidly, hurt by his assumptions.

"I’m not expecting anything," you insist, frustration mounting. "I just… I feel like I barely know you sometimes. I just want to know what’s on your mind.”

“Maybe you won’t understand what’s on my mind,” he mutters. “If I can even put it into words. It’s okay to have different minds, you know. Different world views.”

Your face stings as if he’d just insulted you. You stare at the ceiling. What the hell did that mean? Did he keep things from you because he thought you wouldn’t understand? Did he think you were stupid?

“Okay,” you murmur weakly. “Whatever.”

March, 2012

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom again. Their delicate petals drift on the breeze through the window. Whispers of a forgotten spring. The change of the seasons whips you in the face— it had been so cold only a month prior.

You’re glad about it, anyway. February was always brutal. The passing of the 3rd had been awkward— unlike last year, neither you nor Satoru acknowledged the day at all, though you had danced around it as if Suguru’s ghost was following you.

You had flinched all day whenever Satoru spoke to you, as if paranoid he could read your mind.

He’d bombarded your thoughts, reminding you of the last birthday you spent with him. His face when he’d looked through the photo album you’d given him. The way he fucked you like he needed you to breathe.

Selfishly, you hope Suguru still has the photos. An awful part of you even hopes he still looks at them. You wish you’d kept some of them for yourself.

It was a stupid idea not to make copies. At the time, you considered making some to keep for yourself and to give to Satoru, but the keepsake you made for Suguru’s birthday felt like a secret just between them. Satoru hadn’t even thought to inquire about the photos you took anyway.

Often, you imagine them scattered on your walls, the boys teasing you as you decorated. Reminiscing your teenage years together, both of them laughing and joking around at the antics you’d been able to capture.

You make a mental note to purchase another disposable camera again. Satoru’s apartment could use more photographs, and the kids would get a kick out of it. You still haven’t moved in with him, to his chagrin, but you enjoy having your own space despite his qualms about it. It’s the one thing you have to yourself, even if he does pay your rent.

You sit alone on the balcony, a cup of lukewarm tea cradled in your hands, and you think of yourself from one year ago.

There’s a bittersweet ache in your chest. You can’t help but think of a certain dark-haired sorcerer that occupied so much of your time at Jujutsu Tech.

The world changed in his absence— the air heavier, charged with an undercurrent of tension that still hasn’t dissipated. In your head, Suguru Geto is a fleeting memory. A passing dream.

But there are moments when you feel the warmth of his body next to yours. The timbre of his voice. The intensity of his eyes when he looked at you as if he was seeing through you.

You shake the thoughts of him away as you dump your tea and make your way to the school. You have the greenhouse to yourself today.

It feels odd to walk around Jujutsu Tech without the presence of two shadows on either side of you. The slight breeze whips your hair and it makes you think of them — how Suguru would often tuck a flyaway back for you while Satoru would tug at your braid.

Stop thinking about it, you chastise yourself. He’s not dead.

Or maybe he was?

You aren’t sure if a year and a half feels too little or too long. There are dreams you have about crossing paths with Suguru— a raven-haired stranger in the night, a fleeting text message from an unknown number. When you overthink like this, it’s difficult to tell how much you really knew him at all. Were you important enough to even get in contact with again?

Something twists in your stomach when you think about the same hypothetical of Satoru. You think that maybe he would contact Satoru again. Maybe.

You weren’t there for the end. You hadn’t seen them fight, could barely imagine the thought of a tear-stricken, twenty-year-old Satoru begging Suguru for anything. Had they lashed out at each other? Had they said anything about you?

You pause in your work, hands hovering over a delicate orchid. Your insecurities flood back unbidden, vivid, and painful.

The nights you spent alone with Suguru replay in your mind. His guarded expression, the palpable tension between you. If only you'd pushed harder, tried to break through those walls. Maybe things would have been different.

But you didn't. And now he's gone.

A shadow falls across you, and for a moment, you think it's just another cloud passing overhead. But then you feel it - a presence that makes the air around you hum with an electric charge.

A sharp prick of pain jolts you from your reverie. You've pricked your finger on a thorn, a bead of blood welling up. You watch it for a moment, mesmerized by the crimson against your skin.

"Careful there," a familiar voice calls out. "Can't have you bleeding all over the plants."

You turn to see Satoru leaning against the greenhouse door, his presence filling the space as it always does.

"Hey," you say softly. "I thought you had a mission today."

He shrugs, sauntering over to you. "I do, but I wanted to stop by first. Thought I'd surprise you."

There's an awkward beat of silence as he stands beside you, both of you pretending to examine the flowers. You can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

"You were thinking about him again, weren't you?" Satoru's voice is quiet, lacking its usual bravado.

You don't answer immediately, unsure how to navigate this minefield. "I... it's hard not to sometimes," you admit finally. "Especially here."

Satoru nods, his face inscrutable. "Yeah. I get that."

Another silence stretches between you. You desperately want to ask him about that day, about what really happened. But you're afraid of the answer, afraid of reopening wounds that have barely begun to heal.

"Do you ever wonder..." you begin hesitantly, "if things could have been different? If we'd seen the signs earlier, or—”

“Twigs,” Satoru cuts you off sharply.

You flinch at his tone. “Sorry.”

His expression softens. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his.

"No, I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I just... I can't think about the what-ifs. It's too much."

You nod slowly. Neither of you really talked about Suguru since he left. It was easier to pretend, to go on as if the gaping hole he left behind didn't exist.

"Do you think he's okay?" you whisper, voicing the fear that's been gnawing at you for months.

Satoru's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "He's alive. I'd know if he wasn't."

You nod, not quite sure if you believe him or if he even believes himself.

He sighs, pulling you into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, and for just a moment, you let yourself be comforted by his presence.

But as you stand there in Satoru's arms, surrounded by the falling cherry blossoms, you can't shake the feeling that something is still missing. That maybe it always will be.

April, 2012

You fumble with your keys, exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs. The thought of going home to your apartment fills you with dread. You’d gotten into a squabble with Satoru again – asked too many questions about Suguru, your heart flooded with nostalgia.

He wanted to be patient with you, but you were childishly bitter.

As you push open the door, something feels... off. The air inside is charged, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart begins to race as you cautiously step inside, eyes scanning the darkened room.

"Twigs."

The voice, smooth as silk and familiar, cuts through the silence. You gasp as you whirl around, eyes wide with disbelief.

There, leaning against the wall with an air of casual elegance, is Suguru Geto.

He looks different, yet achingly the same. His hair is longer now, cascading over his shoulders in inky waves. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now hold a sharpness that sends a shiver down your spine. But his smile, that infuriatingly beautiful smile, is exactly as you remember it.

"Suguru," you breathe, barely able to form the word. "How... why are you here?"

He pushes off the wall, moving towards you with fluid grace. "I missed you," he purrs.

Your mind reels, a thousand questions fighting to be asked. But as he draws closer, all you can focus on is the familiar scent of him - sandalwood and something uniquely Suguru. It makes your head spin.

"You can't be here," you whisper, even as your traitorous body leans towards him. "If Satoru finds out–"

"Satoru won't find out," Suguru interrupts, his voice low and soothing. He reaches out, fingers ghosting along your cheek. "I've made sure of that."

You should pull away. You should tell him to leave. But instead, you find yourself leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering.

"I've thought about you every day," Suguru murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "Have you thought about me?"

"Yes," you admit, the word escaping before you can stop it. "God, yes."

His lips curve into a smile against your skin. "Show me," he whispers.

And just like that, the floodgates open. You crash into him, your lips meeting in a desperate, hungry kiss. It's like coming home and setting yourself on fire all at once. His hands are everywhere, relearning the curves of your body as you cling to him.

You stumble backward, not breaking the kiss until your back hits the wall. Suguru presses against you, his body solid and warm. You gasp as he trails kisses down your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

When he coos into your ear, it is not his voice, but Satoru’s.

“Twigs.”

Your eyes open abruptly. Sweat trickles down the nape of your neck as you stare into the space of your dark bedroom. Despite hearing Satoru’s voice, he’s nowhere to be found.

You exhale shakily in embarrassment, at how easily the guilt knocked you out of your slumber.

With trembling hands, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and let them dangle for a moment, grounding yourself in reality. The remnants of the dream still swirl around in your mind like fractals. You blink against the dimness, peeling away from the haze left by sleep.

The gentle hum of silence fills your apartment as you push yourself up to stand on slightly unsteady legs. Each step you take feels heavier than the last; gravity pulling differently somehow.

You feel… odd. You decide to blame it on the unwanted arousal.

When you enter the small kitchen, you distract yourself with your kettle and scan your surroundings blankly. Pastel tiles — faded yet inviting. Drawings on the fridge from the Fushiguro children.

As you wait for the water to boil, you feel a sense of unease — the very same you felt when encountering a curse, though the after-effects of arousal in your body have your stomach curling inside out. Everything is too quiet and too dark.

You hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, relying on a small nightlight plugged in below your cabinets. You turn to peer into your living room but there’s nothing there.

As you slowly turn your head back to the kitchen, your breath catches in your throat at the silhouette in front of you. The shadow, darker than the surrounding night, detaches itself from the wall. Your heart leaps into your throat, cursed energy crackling at your fingertips instinctively.

But then the figure steps into the moonlight, and your breath catches.

Suguru.

He looks different – thinner, harder somehow. His hair is longer, tied back loosely, and there's a weariness in his eyes that wasn't there before. But it's undeniably him.

He wears a large, black gojo-kesa with yellow and green details. He looks like a dream come to life. He's changed, but he's still breathtakingly beautiful, like a fallen angel come to Earth.

"I’m sorry," he says softly, his voice carrying the same gentle cadence you remember, but now tinged with something darker. "I didn’t mean to scare you."

You want to run. You want to scream. You want to throw yourself into his arms and beg him to explain why he left, why he turned his back on everything– on you. Instead, you remain frozen, your mug trembling in your grasp.

Suguru takes a step closer, and you can see the details of his face more clearly now. You instinctively take a step back, and something flickers in his eyes – hurt, perhaps, or amusement. It's hard to tell with Suguru.

"May I sit?" he asks, gesturing to the space in front of you where your small kitchen table stands.

You nod mutely, unable to form words. He settles next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. You smell the familiar scent of sandalwood and something metallic. Blood?

For a long moment, neither of you speak. You continue to drink in the sight of him. He looks out of place in your small apartment, too large and too otherworldly for the mundane space.

"Why are you here?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to see you," he says simply, as if it explains everything. As if he hadn't abandoned everything– abandoned you and Satoru – over a year ago.

You take an involuntary step back, your mind reeling. "But you left. You've been gone for over a year. We thought... I thought..."

"That I was dead?" He smirks, but there's no humor in it. "Not quite. Though I suppose in some ways, the person you knew did die."

You scoff, clutching the countertop behind you.

"Why now?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"

“This isn’t the first time, exactly.”

You don’t even want to ask what he means.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion and longing that threatens to overwhelm you. "You can't be here. Satoru will come back from his mission—"

Suguru's eyes darken at the mention of Satoru's name. "Ah yes, Satoru," he says, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Always Satoru."

You feel a pang of guilt but push it aside. "Suguru, I—"

He cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head. "No need to explain.”

A heavy silence falls between you, filled with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. You watch as Suguru's gaze drifts to the falling cherry blossoms against the velvet sky outside the window, his expression unreadable.

You sniff. “I thought you were dead at first,” you whisper. “But you’re stronger than that. Always have been.”

“You were upset.”

“Of course I was! I—” you huff, looking away from him.

He turns to look at you fully now, his gaze intense. “You’re still upset.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“There was nothing you could do.”

You wince slightly. It was the same thing that Satoru told you during the fight you had. The one that overwhelmed you with anger, made you walk away. Heat curls within the delicate sternum of your chest. You’ve always been so fucking naive, haven’t you?

“I— I thought—” you trail off. You thought you could’ve done more.

“Would you have come with me?” he murmurs.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implications. You open your mouth to respond but find you have no answer. Would you have gone with him? Left everything behind?

Satoru’s face flashes in your mind.

Suguru seems to read the conflict on your face. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your cheek. The touch is feather-light, but it sends electricity coursing through your body.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," he says, his voice low and soothing. "I just... needed to see you. To make sure you were alright."

You lean into his touch despite yourself, closing your eyes briefly. When you open them again, Suguru's face is closer, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you?" he asks. "Alright?"

The question catches you off guard. Are you alright? You've been going through the motions for months now, smiling when expected, and fulfilling your duties. But alright? You're not sure you even remember what that feels like anymore.

"I'm... managing," you reply honestly.

“I missed you,” he sighs. “You have to believe that.”

You want to believe him. God, how you want to. But the pain of his absence, the confusion and betrayal, it all comes rushing back.

"Do you remember our last spring together?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft and wistful. "How we'd lie in the grass for hours, talking about everything and nothing?"

The memory washes over you, bittersweet and painful. "Of course I do," you whisper.

Suguru turns to you, his eyes intense. "I've thought about those moments every day since I left. About you. About the choices I've made."

Your heart races, torn between longing and fear. "Why did you leave?" you ask, the question that's haunted you for over a year finally escaping your lips.

He's quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully. "I… realized Jujutsu society was deeply flawed. I had to act, even if it meant leaving everything behind."

There's a gravity to his words that sends a chill down your spine. "What do you mean?" you whisper, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Suguru's eyes darken, and for a moment you see a flicker of something dangerous, something that wasn't there before.

"Our world is rotting from the inside out," he says, his voice low and intense. "The higher-ups, the clans, even Jujutsu Tech– they're all part of a system that perpetuates suffering. I couldn't stand by and watch anymore."

His intensity startles you. This isn't the gentle, thoughtful Suguru you remember. There's an edge to him now, a darkness that both frightens and intrigues you.

You shake your head, struggling to process his words. "But... but we help people. We protect them from curses."

"Do we?" Suguru asks, his tone sharp. "Or do we simply maintain a status quo that allows curses to flourish in the first place? Think about it. The more negative emotions in the world, the more curses are born. And what creates those negative emotions? Inequality, injustice, pain– all things that the Jujutsu world turns a blind eye to."

His words stir something inside you, a doubt you've tried to ignore. You think of the missions you've been on, the people you've helped, but also the ones you couldn't save. The systemic issues seemed to persist no matter how many curses you exorcised.

“I’m— I’m not going to be one of your followers,” you say, your voice cracking. You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you to be,” he replies coolly. His presence makes you heady with the familiarity of his spell.

“Then why are you here?” You try to sound firm but your voice is barely above a whisper. “How did you even know where I lived?”

“You must know me better than that. You think I wouldn’t be able to find you?”

Your heart jumps at the same time your blood runs cold. You’re almost thrilled that he sought you out, but it couldn’t be like this.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen. The touch is gentle. Familiar. It takes every ounce of willpower not to lean into it and preen into his touch like you always have.

“I did miss you, you know. Don’t think that I didn’t,” he drawls. Suguru’s eyes soften, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of the boy you once knew. “My favorite girl.”

You close your eyes, allowing hot tears to run down your face. The liquid salt cascades in warm streams on your skin.

Suguru's words hang in the air, a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and unspoken longing. You feel the weight of his gaze on you, even with your eyes closed. His thumb brushes another tear from your cheek, the touch achingly tender.

"Twigs," he murmurs, the old nickname rolling off his tongue like honey. "Look at me."

You hesitate, afraid of what you'll see in his eyes, afraid of your own heart's treacherous desires. But you've never been able to resist him, not really. Slowly, you open your eyes, meeting his intense gaze.

He's closer now, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark irises. His breath ghosts over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "You have to know that."

"But you did," you whisper, your voice cracking. "You left. Without a word, without an explanation. You left me and Satoru and everything we'd built together. I–”

I loved you. We loved you.

Suguru's jaw clenches at the mention of Satoru.

"I couldn't stay. Not after everything I learned, everything I saw. It would have been a lie."

You shake your head, anger and hurt rising in your chest. "And this isn't a lie? Sneaking into my apartment in the middle of the night, touching me like nothing has changed?"

"Everything has changed," Suguru counters, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "The world is not what we thought it was. What I thought it was. I couldn't continue to be a part of a system I no longer believed in."

“You could’ve talked to Satoru and I—”

“If Satoru was in my position, it would be easy for him,” he snaps. “He’d find a way to get you to believe in him. You would probably find a reason anyway.”

“That’s not true!” your voice cracks. “He wouldn’t kill every non-sorcerer—”

“But he could, my sweet girl. You’re blinded by him. You’ve always seen him as a god, haven’t you?”

You shake your head desperately, pathetically. His words make you feel smaller than you’ve ever felt.

You feel the sting of Suguru's words, an accusation wrapped in a painful truth. Your relationship with Satoru has always been complex, the unspoken power dynamic frustrating you throughout the years. But to hear Suguru lay it bare, to twist it into something ugly– it feels like a knife to the heart.

“That’s not fair,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You know there’s more to him than that.”

Suguru's expression hardens, a flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes. "Satoru will never understand. He's too blinded by his own power, his own sense of righteousness. He can't see the world as it truly is."

You take a step back, shaking your head. "And you can? Suguru, listen to yourself. You wouldn’t—" You choke on the words, unable to say them out loud. "The Suguru I knew would never pick on the weak. He wouldn’t turn his back on—”

Suguru moves forward, closing the distance between you once again. His hand comes up to cup your face, his touch gentle despite the intensity of his gaze.

"I haven't turned my back on you," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "I could never do that. Don't you see? Everything I'm doing, it's for a better world. A world where we can be together without the chains of the Jujutsu society holding us back."

You stare at him, torn between the pull of his words and the screaming warnings in your head. This is wrong. This isn't the Suguru you knew, the gentle, thoughtful boy who held you under the cherry blossoms. But oh, how you want to believe him. How you want to sink into his touch and let the world fall away.

"Suguru..." you breathe, your resolve crumbling.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Baby," he whispers, his voice a siren's call. "I know you. You’ve gotten stronger. You’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met. I remember that mission in the forest, how you exhausted yourself. You’re so fucking powerful. Don’t you know you could be more than a pawn for the higher-ups? For Satoru?”

“Don’t,” you retort harshly. “I’m not a fucking pawn for anyone and I won’t be one for you.”

Suguru's eyes flash with a mix of surprise and admiration at your fiery response. He leans back slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "There she is," he murmurs, almost to himself. "That fire. That strength. That's the girl I remember."

You blink rapidly, caught off guard by his reaction. You expected anger, frustration, not this strange sense of pride.

He shakes his head, the smile fading. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that about Satoru. Old habits, I suppose." He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't come here to fight with you or to try to sway you to my side. I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” you mutter.

Suguru nods, a rueful smile on his lips. "I suppose I should leave before he comes back? He'd probably try to kill me on sight. Not that I'd blame him."

“He wouldn’t. He would never do that,” you say quickly.

The thought sends a chill through you. The idea of Suguru and Satoru, once inseparable, now on opposite sides of a war you don't fully understand.

“I won't ask you to keep this a secret," Suguru says, as if reading your thoughts. "I won't put you in that position. But I needed you to know...no matter what happens, no matter what you might hear about me, my feelings for you have never changed."

Your heart skips a beat. It's the closest he's ever come to a confession, to putting a name to the unspoken thing that's always simmered between you.

"Suguru..." you begin, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

"Don't," he says softly. "Don't say anything you might regret. I know where your heart lies, even if you don't fully realize it yourself yet."

He takes a step back, and you feel the loss of his proximity like a physical ache. "I should go," he murmurs.

You close your eyes, tears falling down your face. You don’t even sense his departure. He leaves as quietly as he entered.

Satoru is often needy when he comes back to you lately. He hopes to see in his bed, anyway, but doubts it considering your most recent argument he had with you.

It wouldn’t be an unusual occurrence if he found you there– he often returns from his missions and finds you curled up in his bed. Despite your reservations, you’ve been staying in his room more often. After an intense video game session with the kids or a particularly intense night with him, you don’t bother to make the trip to your apartment downstairs.

In Satoru’s apartment, you have extra skincare products (he bought them) and a toothbrush (it had been sitting in the mug on his counter since you came back to Tokyo. Just in case.).

He comes home at an ungodly time. Nothing was open save for the local konbini and twenty-four diner, neither of which he had any options he wanted. There was no onigiri left, so he snacks on matcha pocky, knowing you’d scold him for it if you were awake.

His heart stops when he opens the door to his bedroom and sees you in his bed. But not just because of how beautiful you look in between his sheets, lit by soft hues by the moon.

But because he smells him.

Satoru can sense the cursed energy on your body. It’s like a perfume that doesn’t belong to your skin, yet he can feel it cling to you.

A rabbit hole opens in his brain, splitting into a black hole as he spirals. He’s been here, maybe in this apartment, and he’s touched you.

You twitch, your lips stuck in a cherubic pout. Satoru wants to bite you.

Selfishly, he does. Canine nipping at the junction of your shoulder. You stir and feel his arms tighten around you.

“Satoru?” you mumble, your voice soft and sleep-laced.

“It’s late,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

But you can’t, not with his teeth on your neck. He licks and kisses the back of your neck with an urgent cadence, almost with frustration. He grabs at your covers impatiently. He only rushes like this when something’s bothering him.

He’d woken you from such a heavy sleep that you’re still adjusting to being conscious. He feels as much as a dream as Suguru standing in your kitchen–

You freeze at the memory.

You make a noise of surprise when you feel his hardness prod at you from behind.

"Satoru," you breathe. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer, just presses himself closer, his hand sliding beneath your nightshirt. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine. But there's an edge to it, a desperation you haven’t felt from him since you were teenagers.

"Nothing," he murmurs against your skin, but his voice is tight. "I just need you."

You turn in his arms, facing him in the moonlight. His blue eyes are dark, stormy with an emotion you can't quite place. Jealousy? Fear?

"Tell me," you insist, cupping his face.

Satoru hesitates, his jaw clenching.

"Shitty mission,” he mutters. You know he’s lying.

“Satoru," you start, but he cuts you off with a bruising kiss. You imagine in combat, fighting curses with the same kind of aggression. The thought sours in your brain but warms the animal of your body. He felt the same as he did when he was nineteen.

His knuckles graze underneath your panties, the silver ring you’d given him cold against the skin of your inner thigh.

I have to get you a matching one now, he’d joked weeks prior. Then we’ll be engaged.

You knew without a doubt he was dead serious.

He bites your shoulder again and pushes you onto your stomach. Reflexively, you push your ass and feel his hard cock between the offending fabric of his boxers. When had he undressed?

“Please,” he breathes into your ear.

You don’t respond. You simply push down your underwear, already drenched from his jagged kisses.

He grunts as he pushes into you. You wince at the thickness, stinging just barely from the lack of prep. His large hand pushes your shirt up from beneath you to grope at your tits. His other hand snakes in between your legs to rub at your puffy clit.

You gasp at how heavy he feels inside of you. Each snap of his hips feels harsher than the last.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about this,” Satoru mutters, as if to himself. “About fucking you.”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah? You missed my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” you choke out.

“You sure? No one beat me to it, already?” His voice is slightly bitter, so low and buried in your shoulder blade that you almost don’t catch it.

Your eyes widen. You turn slightly to see his blue eyes nearly glowing in the moonlight, brows furrowed as he focuses on his hard thrusts.

“Satoru, I–”

“Wouldn’t blame him. I’d miss this cunt, too, if I was gone for a year and a half.”

“I–I didn’t—”

“Do you think about him when I’m inside you?”

His face is scarily neutral even though he’s fucking you so rough. Each time he knocks into you, it takes your breath away, your pussy tightening at how impossibly deep he is.

“No,” you whimper.

“It’s okay if you do,” Satoru laughs bitterly. “I think about him too. Both of you.”

You moan softly as he lifts your hips and drives into you deeper.

“You thought I wouldn’t be able to smell him? Feel his residuals all over you?” he grunts. His teeth are bared as he fucks you. Sex-starved. Part animal, part god.

You don’t have it in you to respond. You can’t think of anything when he gets like this, the undulating motion of his cock molding your insides to him and him alone.

He groans in pleasure, his hand a soft noose around your neck as he lifts you up by the chin. He turns your face over your shoulder so he can kiss you roughly, teeth on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s all making you dizzy.

Your pussy constricts around him. You think you hear him laugh breathily. He presses down on your lower back at the same time you close your legs. He drives into you, your cunt tight and snug.

Satoru coaxes a thumb in your mouth and it makes the thread of desire in your gut fray. It’s so close to snapping. You can feel yourself about to cum.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he rasps. “That’s it. Fuck.”

A whine is pulled from your throat when the pressure inside of you blows over. Your pussy constricts around him and his thrusts get rougher. Meaner.

Your dry throat feels like it’s on fire, your body wrung out with tiredness and ecstasy all at once. He fills you to the brim, finally, cursing as he buries his face into your hair.

For a moment, the dark room is filled with exhales and nothing else. You wince when he pulls out of you. He sits on his knees and soothes a hand on your back underneath your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You turn to face him. “I liked it.”

“You know what I mean,” he swallows.

You nod slowly. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.

“It wasn’t what you think.” Not a betrayal. Barely a rendezvous.

Satoru exhales, his mouth in a taut line. “Did he hurt you?”

Neither of you could say his name. It had always bothered you that Satoru would never say his name,

“No. You know he wouldn’t.”

“I know.”

You lick your lips nervously. “He said he missed me. And that he came to check on me. I asked him why he left.”

“And?”

“It was probably all the same stuff he told you.”

Satoru’s face stays eerily calm. “Alright.”

“You’re… not upset? Or mad?”

His face softens at how terrified you look. “No, baby. I’m not.”

Without a word, he goes to the bathroom. You lie on your back and stare at the ceiling. You feel sick, suddenly. As if something has shifted the atmosphere entirely.

You’re almost asleep when Satoru returns. He brings a warm towel in between your legs and kisses both of your knees. You keep your eyes closed– you can’t bear to look at his eyes right now.

He’s glad for it. You’re unable to tell that his eyes are a little red, soul-weary.

As he rests beside you, arm draped over your waist, you feel his warm breath on your neck whispering, “I love you.”

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

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siribaes · 1 day ago

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⋆˙⟡ contents: rio x ( black!fem! ) reader. mean!rio. angst (rio’s going through it y’all). pinv. car sex. rough sex that turns sweet. silence kink. praise kink. size kink. döggy. missiōnary, etc. semi-proofread so excuse the mistakes. mdni!

it all started with a late night text…

u alone?

who knew just two simple words could have you in such a predicament. parked in the empty lot by the beach, was rio’s infamous matted out g-wagon. in the distance, waves gently pulled and pushed with the tide. outside was peaceful, tranquil even. inside was a completely different story.

your chubby cheeks pressed against the smooth buttery interior of the back seats. tangled in the mass of your curls, rio kept a tight grip on the root your tresses as he pushed your head further, and further into the seat. it was pure filth, with a deep arch in your back, panties pulled to the side, your ass was pointed high up to the heavens as rio fucked you from behind. your syrupy arousal dripped down the plushness of your thighs, as rio continued to plunge in and out of your weeping core. his mushroomy tip mashed itself against the soft spot waaay inside your pussy. the rough, calloused pads of rio’s other hand gripped the softness of your waist as he continued to fuck you. every, disgustingly mean snap of his hips, jolted you forward into the seat.

the fast and rough strokes sent your head spinning. rio was absolutely relentless with his dick, completely bullying your poor pussy, splitting you open, deeply. with another rough snap, you felt yourself clench around rio’s dick. a desperate moan escaped your lips and your nails scraped against the seats…

a vicious yank of your curls, shocked you. the icy touch of rio’s chain, and soft fabric of his tank top danced along your semi-exposed back as he leaned towards your right ear.

“shut the fuck up,” he growled, never slowing down his pace, but rather speeding it up, matching the frustration that shrouded his voice.

“b-but baby—” your whining was cut short by a hand covering your mouth.

rio drove into you deeper, with so much vigor and…anger?

sure it felt good, your sopping pussy was evident of that but it just didn’t feel right. this rio, the one currently fucking you crazily was an entirely different breed. it was something different about him, it was like he was trying to fuck something out of his system. every push and pull of his dick in you, every rough stroke, left a twinge of pain behind…

despite the tightened cover over your mouth, another moan slipped past your lips. rio yanked at your curls.

“fuck i just say?” he barked. the hand that gripped your hair, let go. instead, forceful slap on your ass cheek, has tears welling up in your duxes. it stung reaaal bad, it was sure to bruise. “s-shit i’m close,”

his dick swelled up inside you, as his mushroomy head drove straight for that spongy spot. wetness dripped down your thighs, surely splashing over his own, as rio’s hips clapped against the softness of your ass…your pussy clamped down on his dick as your orgasm flooded him. mewling, your tongue licked at rio’s palm covering your mouth. he brought his other hand towards your face, laying it over. he lifted your head, bringing it up and slightly away from the seat. there was a circular damp spot, a mixture of sheeny sweat and drool from your mouth. another, and slightly embarrassing reminder of the absolute fucking rio was giving he you…

pap-pap-pap-pap! wet slaps of skin echoed in the car. he was close, you could feel how hard and swollen rio’s dick felt inside of you. delicious veins sliding up and against your pulsating, gummy walls as he jackhammered inside of your pussy, just fucking you completely open.

another pap! and his hips stuttered, followed by a deep, groan as rio slipped out of you. you felt his cum, hot, sticky ropes land on your ass cheeks. you hummed at the sensation, arching your back deeper as rio’s thick ropes slid down your ass and to your leg…

rio hovered behind hands still covering your mouth as he panted, his warm breath fanned over your scorching hot skin.

“shit,” he sighed. rio dropped his hands away from your mouth.

your head bobbed forward, chest heaving as you took big pulls of breath. aftershocks came in waves. you ran your hands across your chest, nipples pebbled against the fabric of the bra your wore, clung to your skin…

for a moment the car was quiet. nothing but the uneven breaths from the two of you, you could even hear the distant waves of the ocean, it lulled you as you gained composure.

“flip over,” your limbs felt like jello as you slowly rose from the arched position. apparently you weren’t moving fast enough for rio. with both arms he maneuvered you, your back hit the seat as he nudged your legs apart, towering over your petite frame.

despite his current mean streak, rio at this moment was a sight to see. his grey sweatpants sat low on hips, while his still semi-hard dick bobbed above the waist band. his was pretty, a good 8 incher, all veiny, with a slight curve. it was girthy too, filling and stretching you in the best of ways…his brown skin, slick with sweat, seemed to glow underneath the light of moon the pour through the window…you couldn’t help but ogle at the sight. the gold jesus piece, twinkled and sparkled only highlighting the eagle tattoo itched on his neck. your belly fluttered, you wanted to trace the intricate lines with your tongue while he split you open…

the sound of spit interrupted your reverie. you glanced down and saw the glossy shine of rio’s tip. a squelchy sound echoed as he swiped his thumb across the maddened tip. your pussy throbbed.

“take them panties off,” rio spoke, annoyance reared its ugly head for the second time.

you complied, raising up to shimmy the underwear down your legs. you tried to search his expression for some answers, but he avoided your eyes, his gaze roaming everywhere but you. with his free hand he spread your legs open wide, inching closer towards he tapped his dick against your clit. already puffy and swollen, you hissed at the contact. he repeated the action a few times, smearing the glossy and webby mixture on and around your clit. you bit back a desperate moan as you reached for rio’s arm, guiding his dick. your fingers lightly caressed his arm. with a thumb, you gently rubbed circles against the inked skin.

immediately, rio broke the intimacy. he swatted your hand away, straightening his back he aligned his dick towards your weeping entrance…

your jaw drops as rio slams inside of you. he bottoms completely, you see the evidence from the bulge in your belly. fuck he was so deep. your pussy fluttered and convulsed around his dick. he swirled his hips, pulling all the away out, his dick covered a milky gloss, before plunging back in, waaay deeper than before. you whined as rio picked up the pace, jackhammering into, again.

pain and pleasure swirled inside of you as tried to keep up, but it was truly no use. he was going too damn hard and doing too damn much…

rio shifted the angle his body, leaning down closer to you but kept his face away from your face. his gorgeous face was all scrunched up with frustration, his bottom lip poked out just begging to be kissed by you. close but not close enough…

something in your chest twisted. you wanted to be closer to him, to really connect with him, to see those brown eyes stare deep into yours as he truly fucked you, with some passion, emotion maybe…

slowly, you brought your hands towards rio’s face. on top of the maddening pleasure that throbbed between your legs, nerves crackled inside of you. with one hand you softly caressed the swell of his cheek, while with the other, fingers lightly rubbed at the nape of his neck. rio attempted to shrug away from your touch but you didn’t relent. your hands were steady as rio fucked into you wildly. gently, you guided him, pulling him down towards you till your faces were inches apart…

your heart panged. meeting his gaze you saw it, the pain, anger, frustration, the fear that swirled around his eyes…fuck seeing him like so vulnerable and open almost made you cry. you held held him tighter, bringing him closer with your legs around him. you kept the eye contact as you moaned out…

“slow,” rio still caught up in his furious strokes continued on, but you didn’t stop, you repeated yourself, “slow,”

rio hips stuttered, stroking unrhythmically out of you. his eyes began to soften as the word fell softly from your tongue, over and over again. a single word breaking his trance.

“slow,” he stopped.

“slow,” his breathing slowed, evening out.

“slow,” he adjusted himself, pulling allll the way out.

“slow,” he took his time, slowly stroking back into you.

you moaned, all whiny and pitchy. rio’s eyes roamed your expression.

“yeah?” he rasped, voice a bit quieter but all the more powerful as he searched for confirmation. confirmation that he was doing his job.

“y-yeah baby! fuck jus’ like that,” you babbled out.

your pussy squeezed when rio repeated the action, slowly stroking in and out of you. his delicious tip gently brushed past the soft, spongy spot. this was heaven, what made it even sweeter was when he leaned down, capturing your lips into a kiss. your mouths moved in sync, tongues rolling and exploring in tandem as rio kept a steady pace.

the familiar tightening flooded your belly. you were close, you could practically taste your orgasm. you broke the kiss to moan out.

“you close?” rio rasped. you shook your head, when the words died on your tongue.

with his thumb, he swiped the saliva that coated both of your lips. he collected the spit, bringing his thumb towards your puffy clit, swirling tasty circles. pure pleasure, white hot, surged inside you as you climb, up, up, up, until…

the tsunami came. you felt your essence, syrupy and sweet, flood out of you and onto him. the sticky sap continued to drip down, wetting up everything in its path. your thighs, the seat, you even saw a growing damp spot forming around the crotch of rio’s sweatpants. rio kept going, fucking you through it all. as you squirmed underneath him, he left soft kisses all over your face.

“fuck! riooooo,” you whined. “y’re so good to me, shit, k-keep fucking me,”

rio moved his arms, lifting you up, he cradled you like you were the most precious thing…then, something clouded his features, splinters of shame littered his expression…

“no, no, no, baby stay with me, ‘s okay,” you cooed.

you found enough strength to lift your hips and meet him halfway. the sensuous whine of your whips caused a deep groan to escape rio’s lips.

“goddamn,” he moaned out. “shit, keep talkin’ like that while you take my dick,”

“you make feel so good, rio. please, let me hav—fuck, i want you to cum in me,”

“yeah? wan’ me to bust all in you? fuck my kids in you?”

“yessss, baby. i wanna feel you. please, i wanna feel all of you,”

those magic words spurred his unraveling. his hips jerked once, twice, the boom. he came. his dick pumped inside of you as you felt the creamy, velvety ropes of cum sprayed inside of you. you hummed, eyes drifting down to where you both connected seeing rio’s dick continue to move. a creamy white ring formed at the base…

“fuuuuck, mama…got me cummin’, shit.” rio breathed out.

his hands roamed over your neck, shoulders, chest and down you stomach. he lowered, bringing his face to your neck, nuzzling the soft skin…

the two of you laid there, tangled in each others arms, breathing in tandem…suddenly, you something wet your neck. it wasn’t rio’s tongue, you knew what that felt like, it was something else…then, it clicked. they were tears…

you pulled him tighter, hugging him close as humanly possible, silently letting him know, you got him. your fingers rubbed comforting circles on his back…as the push and pull of the tide flowed in the distance…

⋆˙⟡♡⟡˙⋆

the car ride back was less awkward, unlike before it was filled with stuffy silence, now was replaced by music that softly played through the car speakers. as rio drove, he kept hand on your thigh, sweeping his thumb across the now, bruising spot that was peaked from the hem of your dress…

some more time went by before you all pulled in to a spot in front of your house. the low rumblings of the engine ceased as rio turned the key. he turned facing you, those beautiful brown eyes roamed your face and body before zeroing on your bruised thigh. shame flickered in his eyes.

“hey, i know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you murmured, breaking the quietness. “you were frustrated and got caught up in the moment, that’s-all,”

rio shook his head. “nah, i fucked up. i’m dealin’ with some shit right now and i took it out on you,”

his grip on the steering wheel tightened while his right leg bounced up and down. you reached for his face, cupping his cheek.

“i’m a big girl, rio. i’m good,” you assured him “besides, it’s all the more reason to make it up to me, next time,”

rio’s lips quirked at your words. then, he shifted his face and kissed the inside of your palm…

“good night, rio,” you shifted away, looping your purse over your shoulders. he nodded before you exited the car.

as you walked away from the car, your mind wondered, recalling the moments that was shared between you…one thought prevailed.

what the hell just happened?

⋆˙⟡♡⟡˙ ⋆

[ a/n’s: i’m back! happy new year, happy new one-shot lol! i tried to do something different with rio this time so it’s a bit head-cannony. but this has me wondering if i should turn this into a series, thoughts?? anyways comments are always appreciated and enjoy! ]

#siribaesfics #rio x black!fem!reader #rio x blackfem!reader #rio x black!reader #rio smut #rio fanfiction #woc fanfiction #poc fanfiction #black fanfiction #rio x reader #rio good girls fanfiction #rio good girls

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tj3star · 2 months ago

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🖼️ Day 30 - Mount🖼️

#tj3star #linktober #linktober 2024 #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #tears of the kingdom #age of calamity #link #mipha #urbosa #daruk #revali #champions #artists on tumblr #almost done lol #I’m not giving up despite how late it is

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reikunrei · 28 days ago

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feeling a little weird about this holiday season and i’m not really sure why

#I’m not upset that I’m not with my family. i think I’m just like. idk. i think I’m just sad #in general. like I’m glad I don’t have to be w my family this holiday season bc I. don’t like them #but. idk. I just feel Weird……. and almost apprehensive? idk #but I also keep thinking about how I don’t remember the last time someone got me a thoughtful gift without me asking for it lol #I think the closest I’m getting this year is the puzzle my mom sent me. but even then. I don’t have the space to put it together. so like.#and. thinking abt how the last couple times I’ve done a secret santa exchange I just. never ended up getting *my* gift bc people dropped #out and it never got figured out. and like that’s fine. shit happens. but when it leaves me giving and giving and giving… I get tired #boy I’m so exhausted lately lmao I popped an advil pm and now that I’m winding down I’m just. crying as I sit here w this lol #at least I’m included in the ss at my new job despite being Brand New and. I’m sure I’ll get something fun out of that lol #anyway. that’s my complaining for the night. time to honk shoo #i say things

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sanchoyo · 3 months ago

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after the vehicle hunt has been a big flop (the few vehicles I was interested in drove terribly on the test drives :( and car salesmen waaaay highballing cars worths which is. A crazy thing to do when I can literally look up the average worth of a car in 2 seconds??) after going to so so many websites and irl dealers. i found a van I really really love the look of and it’s only like an hour away!! (vintage van-rv combo!! Small enough to not be insane on gas while combining my many years long obsession with having a small rv-like thing AND my nostalgia for my now gone first van…)

And the thing is actually low priced for its type… but insanely out of my budget still 10,000 more than what I have. It’s insane how much vehicles cost. This thing is like 10 years older than I am and it still costs that much?? Wanting a thing really bad will have u googling shit like what body parts can I sell legally 💀

#long time followers will recall back in 2019 me rv posting CONSTANTLY the yearning is so real #I never looked for class b rvs bc they are insanely priced usually but this one is considered cheap (which is still insane)#with my measly part time job it will be many many months before I have that money #by then I’m sure it’ll be sold which makes me want to cry #I’ve applied to other part time jobs so maybe I could work 2 remote jobs…I’m at the point where I feel like I’ve been running on a hamster #wheel nonstop and it’s not getting me any results like I feel very. stuck and impatient #it’s frustrating!! and what if I somehow save up and it’s not bought then it also drives like shit 😭#I’ve never really minded being cooped up but lately it’s driving me a little crazy #maybe I’m just bad at saving I don’t know. like I genuinely don’t know how anyone manages to make it like this tho #but no bank or credit union will give me a loan for it bc of how old it was (I checked Friday) even tho I have good credit :(#I feel like the first half of this year was so awesome and it’s just been going downhill so fast it’s really. discouraging #sanchoyorambles #anyway all that to say if possible I might donate plasma or something despite how squeamish I am #I hate money and I hate having to need it and how stressful it is to spend it on big things like a vechicle I hate it I hate it #everything should be free and easy forever #I’ll probably end up with a stupid boring little car that I’ll hate bc that’s what I can afford. but it’ll be fine if I slap a cute sticker #on it or something. I thought my van kinda sucked af first too despite how proud I was to have bought it #and I still got reaaaallly emotionally attached to it so! who knows what’ll happen #but yeah. can someone explain WHY class b rvs cost THAt Much it’s stupid . things I want should be a lovely little 1000$#car and housd should be 1000$ for me because umm I’m nice and I’m trying really hard? 😔🤨#and it is a luxury that I can even wait a bit to decide since I have a remote job. I’m grateful for that but I’m also going stir crazy #it’ll be fine I just need to whine and Lament #fellow adults that drive sometimes….are we feelin this pain ….car shopping is evil

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e77y · 6 months ago

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#hi #woke up in a weird bad mood and just kinda feeling hopeless about writing and creating in general #also about fandom stuff which is silly to worry about but idk. I just feel lonely here #which is my fault for not texting people lol. sorry ❤️ I have been Weird lately idk what it is #and I don’t interact with non-DnDads stuff on my fandom blog #mostly bc I am too nervous/emotionally lazy to deal with sifting through whole new communities #despite the opportunities to make friends in other fandoms I’m interested in….. hm #just not very online at all I guess #which is probably better for me LOL #being Too Online always gives me bad obsessions and vice versa and it’s kinda just. a cycle? so it’s good that I’m not in it rn #but also I feel a little sad whenever I see people on my dash sharing ideas with their friends and stuff #I’m not lonely in GENERAL bc I have my irls whom I love dearly ❤️❤️❤️#but I just wish I had more friends I could talk to about writing/fandom stuff I guess? idk I will probably delete these tags later #maybe I’ll feel more normal when I eat breakfast lol #ALSO I HAVE TO DRIVE MY FAMILY ON THE INTERSTATE TODAY. not happy about it 😭#<- I have never driven on the interstate before bc I avoid them at all costs #the ones in Florida are fucking SCARYYYY #okag that’s all #sorry for the ramble and hope uou all have a great day :3 #also reading back this post is deeply embarrassing (like. how much I care is embarrassing lol) but also idgaf 🥲#I ❤️ embarrassing myself in a public forum

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selfcarecap · 4 months ago

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Practice [L.H]

pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting, jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W

word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.

“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.

Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”

“Met him online.”

“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”

You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”

You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”

He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”

Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.

“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.

“Help you how?” He asks, smug.

It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.

“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”

“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”

Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”

You nod quickly, “For practice.”

“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.

A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.

Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.

“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?

“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”

“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.

“Oh,” you say.

“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.

Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.

He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.

You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”

“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head.

Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides.

You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.

With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.

“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.

Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.

You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.

“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.

“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.

“What now?” You ask.

Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.

Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”

You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.

“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.

You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.

“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.

His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away.

He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him.

“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”

“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big.

“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”

His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand.

Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist.

You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”

He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life.

You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.

Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.

The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.

“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.

Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.

You’re wondering how much long–

“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.

You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.

Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.

He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.

Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.

“Spit.”

“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.

“Really?”

You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.

He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.

You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.

“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”

What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”

“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.

“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”

You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.

He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.

“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.

“Mhmm.”

He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close.

You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly.

“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself.

He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck.

You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders.

Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue.

It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.

Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.

He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.

With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.

“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”

Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”

You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.

Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.

“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.

Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”

You grin, “It was your plan.”

Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.

“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.

“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”

Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.

You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”

The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #james logan howlett #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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ceilidho · 2 months ago

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Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 1 | masterlist

“I’m not looking for a babysitter that can only come by every now and then,” he says sternly and pauses for emphasis, brows furrowing to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I’ve got a busy schedule and his mom isn’t in the picture. I need a real commitment.”

You sit across from him wringing your hands under the kitchen table, wondering again what it is you’re doing here. Babysitting has never been your schtick; you’re somewhere in between too old to do it as a casual gig for extra cash and too young and inexperienced to be considered for a full-time position.

Yet, it seems like that’s what he’s looking for, based on the information he’s told you and your general impression from having been in his house for less than twenty minutes. The house is a mess—toys strewn across the baby’s bedroom and the living room, dishes crusted with day old food sitting in the sink, the bookshelf in his study covered in a fine layer of dust that tells you that this man spends so little time in his own house that it’s become something of a requiem to single fatherhood.

“So, a nanny?” you ask.

He hems and haws over that for a bit. “Bit too fancy for my tastes, but that’s more like it. It won’t just be watching the baby—I need someone who can help out around the house as well. ‘Used to run a tight ship before him, but cleaning’s not been my highest priority these days. Sure you’ve picked up on that.” He says the last part wryly, lips curling up into a crooked grin under his mustache.

“Well…” You trail off while glancing at the mess in the living room out of the corner of your eye, toys and blocks scattered over the playmat. Your own smile is sheepish.

“I work odd hours, so I’ll be gone a lot; you’ll probably have a few late nights here, but I pay well. Think that’s something you can handle?”

A polite refusal sits on the tip of your tongue until you swallow it back, suddenly conscious again of the dwindling funds in your bank account. It’s not that you don’t think you could handle the job. You’ve babysat before (only preteens, you correct yourself internally, but surely there are some transferable skills there). And, eclipsing all of your arguments in favour of walking out the door right now, is the very salient and pressing need for an actual income.

“You’re military, you said?” you croak out instead.

He nods, hums. “Bit of a glorified desk job these days. They don’t put the old timers out in the field. Still, keeps me busy.”

You frown at that. “You’re not that old.”

That gets him to cock an eyebrow. “Love, I’m over twice your age, easy. I’m plenty old for a first time father on top of that; should’ve already been an old hand at this, but I’ve been married to the job for too long.”

You don’t ask if the baby was an accident or how it came to be that he chose to raise the baby on his own rather than try to work something out with the mother or give him up altogether. It seems uncouth. Rude. It’s none of your business and, more to the point, hardly relevant to the job. It’s just your own insatiable need to pry and know every little detail raising its head to sniff the air.

“Well, I think—” You chew on your words and then backtrack. “—I can handle the job. I live nearby, so I can be here whenever you need me. If you need references, I can—”

“No need,” he cuts you off, waving a hand in front of him. “I’m a good judge of character. If you wanna help put the baby to bed, we can talk salary and I’ll go over my schedule this week with you.”

The chair scrapes against the tile floor when he stands up, pushing it out from under him. Standing, he towers over you, a big, fit man despite his protests to the contrary. Hardly out of his prime. You’d put him at forty-five at the latest, and still a work horse of a man at that; broad like a draft horse, like he flips tires and runs marathons for fun. When you push out your chair and stand as well, you’re still forced to look up at him.

“Sure can, Mister…—?” You realize with a slight start that you only remember his first name, though it hardly feels appropriate to call him by that given the fact that he’s about to become your boss. Already is your boss.

“Price. But John works just fine,” he corrects, his smile warm, almost paternalistic.

You ignore the flash of heat up your spine and the way your belly constricts when he reaches across the table to shake your hand. His big, calloused palm dwarfs yours, fingers easily overlapping. You might as well be shaking a mitt.

“Well, thanks for the job, John,” you say with a smile of your own, ignoring the way yours strains at the end, anxiety already gnawing a hole through the lining of your stomach that your stomach acid will now most certainly leak through. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart.”

His words seem like a bellwether for something that you can’t yet articulate or even anticipate. Regardless, they make you swallow reflexively when you start salivating out of nowhere. You should probably quit on the spot actually, just out of principle alone, but again you remember the gut-churning sensation of checking your bank balance in the middle of the grocery store the other day before putting half of the contents of your cart back onto the shelf beside you.

You follow him into the playroom instead, where a fuzzy headed infant gasps up at his daddy, blinking big lovestruck eyes up at him. Your own heart feels like a melted caramel in your chest when John picks his son up, eyes crinkling with affection. The baby is so tiny in his arms.

Any thought of being a good person evaporates from your mind. As if you ever had a chance.

You don’t know how he found you. Through a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad’s coworker, maybe. Word of mouth. Watercooler conversation and a heaping cup of gossip.

“Did you hear the Captain’s looking for a babysitter?”

“For what? To bang?”

“No, dipshit. He knocked some broad up and she left him with the baby.”

“No kidding. The Captain?”

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ say that?”

“Price, you mean? Captain Price?”

“Are you fuckin’ deaf? Yeah—Price.”

“Christ. Godspeed to him. A baby. Goddamn.”

“Give it a rest, it happens all the time. That’s why you always wrap it up. Anyway, you know of anyone that’d be up for it?”

And then somehow, your name gets mentioned. Much to your relief. Job opportunities don’t knock on your door all that often, and when John finally gets around to telling you your hourly rate, you almost burst into hysterical giggles in front of him. It’s more than you expected. More than you deserve, if you’re being honest. You’re retroactively grateful that he didn’t ask you to name your rate because you wouldn’t have dared propose something anywhere close to what he offers.

It’s a straightforward gig. John doesn’t work the typical nine-to-five, so you show up at the times he made you write down on that first day in his living room after your interview and you leave whenever he comes home. The first week is fairly true to the schedule he laid out for you. He’s only late by around half an hour one evening, but that was another condition that he made you well aware of prior to giving you the job.

You know better than to put up a fuss. You’re already learning on the job as it is; with your anxiety at a ten at all times, you appreciate the extra half hour to keep googling baby-specific information. What to do during tummy time. The benefits of baby massage. How to change a diaper. You’re learning all sorts of things these days.

To your credit, he could’ve done worse. The day after John hires you, you sign up for an intensive babysitting course over the weekend and read the online manual front to back. Your CPR certificate is still valid, but you book a refresher course as well just to be on the safe side. It’s a bit unbearable to watch the funds drain out of your account before you’ve even had a chance to earn your first paycheck, but it’s worth it for the burgeoning confidence that you bring on your first day.

Babies are fun to be around, you realize, much to your own delight. Babysitting—or rather, nannying, but John still introduces you to the neighbours as his babysitter, plus nannying requires a host of additional accreditations that you simply just do not have—might not have been a job that you ever expected yourself to like, but you find yourself kind of morose at the end of each day when you have to say goodbye to baby, and even going so far as to turn in early when you get home so you’ll be ready bright and early the next morning.

Babies also smell better than anything you’ve ever smelt in your life. You could huff the top of this little guy’s head morning, noon, and night. Milky and clean; it barely takes a few days to become addicted to the smell of his little head. When he’s cradled in your arms, you can’t help but press your nose to the top of his head and take a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. It’s some good shit.

You keep a journal filled with notes to relay to John when he comes home at the end of the night and keep your phone close to you during babytime to film any important moments that John might’ve otherwise missed.

“He started babbling today,” you tell John the second he walks through the door, the video already pulled up on your phone. You haven’t felt this excited in ages. “Look.”

He’s still in his fatigues and everything, but he humours you and takes the baby when you pass him over, cooing and tickling his belly until the baby squeals and babbles again for him.

“See?” you gush, mooning over him. You don’t have the presence of mind to be self-conscious in the moment.

“Yeah,” John remarks, lifting his son up to blow a raspberry into his belly and grinning at his ensuing peals of laughter. “Ain’t that something.”

If the smile in his voice has anything to do with you, you don’t pick up on it.

On top of everything, John turns out to be a really good boss. Despite his gruff, intimidating exterior, he’s remarkably kind and patient with you. He doesn’t nag you for missing a spot when cleaning the bathroom. He doesn’t scold you the day your car breaks down and you’re forced to take the nearest bus to his place, tacking on an extra twenty minutes to your commute, even though that means that he’s invariably late for work. When you accidentally use scouring powder on the inside of his Le Creuset Dutch oven and scratch off the enamel, he gently talks you out of a sobbing fit, seemingly unbothered by the state of his scratched up crockery.

He shrugs when you bring it up. “It’s got a lifetime warranty anyway. I’ll bring it into the shop over the weekend. No use getting upset about it.”

Unflappable. That’s the word for it. It’s like as long as he’s able to come home to the baby and you in one piece, nothing else matters, and that sense of calm permeates the whole house; for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around someone.

Your only qualm—and it’s hardly even a qualm, to be honest, more of just an observation—is that John is more of a physical person than you are.

When he wants to move you, he does—two big hands clamped around your waist and only a fraction of his strength to move you away from the stove so he can take over cooking while you check on the baby, your mouth hanging open, aghast. Fuming at his nerve. The gall of him to manhandle you.

You don’t hold it against him though. You haven’t spent much time around groups of men, but you’ve seen military movies before and it seems like the status quo for men to grab and push each other around. If anything, he’s gentle with you.

It’s just that—and again, John’s the first adult man you’ve spent any one-on-one time with, what with it just being the two of you and the baby in his house, so your frame of reference is microscopic—you’re not completely sure whether it’s appropriate for your boss to be so touchy.

You don’t mean to insinuate that he’s being inappropriate. It’s just that—and again you have to catch yourself before you go making assertions about people because John is honestly such a nice man and he’s done nothing but treat you fairly and made you feel safe and welcome, but…—sometimes he insists on you staying over for dinner after he comes home from work and doesn’t take no for an answer.

You’re never in any rush to leave. There’s not exactly anything waiting for you in your dingy little apartment. So when he asks you to stay, you have no good reason to refuse. It’s nice to get a free meal as well. With the way John gives you unfettered access to the fridge and pantry, you hardly need to buy groceries at all these days. You feel a little guilty about that, but you know what it’s like to go hungry.

Maybe that’s why you stay for supper the first time he asks a couple weeks into you working for him. You’re subconsciously mortified that you’ll eat his food when he’s not gone but not when he offers it to you.

At least dinner feels like something you’ve been given rather than just taking, taking, taking.

Not to mention you’ve developed something of a rapport. There’s always something to talk about with John: the baby, his work, a show you watched on TV after putting the baby down for a nap, the new big Tesco four blocks from your place, his late teens before joining the military (“back when you weren’t even a thought in your mum’s head,” he jokes, cutting into his steak and something in your brain pops and fritzes out like the static between radio stations).

The first few suppers are sporadic and never long enough to make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In all honesty, they’re the few bright spots in an otherwise dull life. Outside of your job and the infrequent dinners, you’re estranged from your family and you’ve only got a few close friends in town that you see maybe once or twice a month. Nothing to write home about. Some Friday nights, the yoga studio near your flat has a five pound community class that you pop in for, but those are infrequent too.

Then there’s the odd night where he shoos you into the living room to put on a movie while he cleans up after dinner. You stare absentmindedly at his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves and then jump when you find him staring at you expectantly over his shoulder.

“Go put something on,” John tells you, a warning look in his eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sorry,” you whisper before slipping off into the living room.

You can’t relax on the couch while you wait. You flinch when he finally joins you, sitting down on the other side of the couch suddenly. You hadn’t even heard him coming; he’s light on his feet for such a big man.

The buddy cop comedy you picked barely distracts you from the fact that your boss is sitting on the other side of the couch. You spend the whole two hour run time so nervous that you’re afraid you’ll buzz right out of your skin.

For absolutely no reason, of course, because all John does is make light conversation with you throughout the movie. Conversation that you respond to in curt, choked whispers. When he walks you to the door after the movie, all you can focus on is how utterly embarrassed you are for being so weird.

Your dreams that night come frantic and heady. Humid under the blanket. The phantom feeling of a body heavier than yours weighing down one side of the couch and you sliding towards it gradually, unable to even cling onto the arm of the couch to keep from falling into his lap.

Then hands on your belly, cupping and holding. Thick fingers with hairy knuckles. A warm, tobacco smell wafting under your nose, sweet like tonka bean and smoke. Nothing you can do to keep them from travelling down your stomach and thighs and spreading your legs wide, big hands curving around your inner thighs until—

You wake up panting, fingers pressed against your clit in your sleep. It takes nothing to bring yourself over the edge, dark blue eyes swimming on the precipice of your conscious mind.

“Sleep well?” John asks you the next morning when you show up on his doorstep, handing you the baby before you’ve even said so much as a word. You hold the baby to your chest like a makeshift shield. Anything to put some distance between you and the man who has now taken to starring in your dreams.

“Not bad,” you squeak.

You flinch when he guides you in with a hand on your back and shuts the door behind you. Your cunt pulses when his fingers press firm against the small of your back, hand bigger than you remembered from your dream.

As if you were ever going to end up anywhere but here.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #price x reader #price/reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price/reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you

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satoruan · 2 months ago

Text

FRIENDS WHO PLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER ! ! — ARCANE

( tw ) f!reader. FF pairings. modern AU! masterbation. fingering. squirting. cunillings. dry humping. reader is kinda possessive in Vi’s. some yearning.

featuring. Violet, Caitlyn Kiramman & Mel Madarda

authors note. When you off that honey packet and ur home girl the only one in vicinity. Mel is so 🤭 I can’t she my type to a teeee. Anyways I’m about to go watch Act 2 WISH ME LUCK IM SCARED. Also idk how I feel about Kaits part I could do better 😔

VIOLET

You and Vi were at another one of your friends' sleepovers. You didn't wanna come, you wanted to spend the Saturday just the two of you, alone. You hated sharing her attention, she was your best friend. You were each other's number one, why did you need other friends when you two were each other's everything. It was late now, almost everyone was sleeping or about to fall asleep when Vi crawled between the bodies of people to where you were laying. You didn’t notice until you felt the familiar embrace of her against your back. Despite yourself, you felt yourself relaxing against her body.

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder. “You know my favorite person. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled. You weren't truly mad anymore but you knew what came next, what Vi did to reassure you that you were special to her. Her only best friend. You weren’t surprised when her hips rocked into your ass, when she pressed her tits against your back nor when her hand traveled underneath your oversized sleep shirt and cupped your breast.

“Vi…” You sighed nuzzling into the arm underneath your head. She tightened her grip on your breast and rocked her hips into you. You push back harder and soon enough you guys find a rhythm. Your ass pushing down on her hips when she grinds up into you. Her callused palm grazes your nipple and you whine softly. She whimpers into your shoulder, finger going to your nipple when she pulls and twists. You wish her mouth was on you, you wish your mouth was on her. You turn your head to her “I love you the most. My favorite forever.”

You feel her smile into your shoulder. “You're so beautiful, you know that?” translation: I love you too.

MEL MEDARDA

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend’s tongue was inside of you. Licking you. Her lips were sucking on your clit, her teeth were biting your pussy lips. You could hear how wet you were—you could feel yourself leaking all over her face. “Mel!” You scream out into the dark room before slamming your hands over your own mouth. You don’t want anyone to see you—you don’t want her mother to see you, what a scene she would make. Seeing her daughter nose deep into her childhood best friend. Mel pulls her mouth off your clit with an embarrassingly loud pop. “Do you feel that? This is how you’re supposed to eat pussy darling.” She smiles when you just nod. Afraid that if you remove your hands from your mouth, you might confess something you don’t want.

Plus, this was just a favor, strictly platonic, you were just friends. That’s why she was eating you out in the first place—you wanted to finally dip your toe into the dating scene but you were scared because you were inexperienced, you didn’t wanna leave your future partners disappointed in your nonexistence skills. And that’s where your best friend came in. Where you didn’t know anything about sex, she knew what felt like everything. Though you never saw her with anyone, she talked like she knew the ins and outs of men and women and she offered to teach you.

“Now after you use your mouth and get them wet you wanna bring in your fingers, like this.” Mel grabs one of your thighs and pushes it down, giving her a better view of your dripping pussy before using her free hand and pushing a slender finger into you. You gasp. “I know you’ve fingered yourself before sweets, how many fingers have you shoved into this pretty pussy?”

You whimper, hesitantly removing your hands. “T-two Melly.” You answer bashfully, using the nickname you gave her when you were children. She hums and adds another. You bite your lip, lower abdomen clenching when she curls them into your spongy g-spot.

“Now pay attention to me alright?” She leans down to place a kiss on your pubs, leaving a trail of light kisses until she reaches your clit. She moves her hand out of you and a fast pace, fingers curling when she knuckles deep. You moan at the feeling of her hand pounding into you.

She gives your clit a few kitten lips before wrapping her full lips around the swollen area. She bits hard enough for you to wince before she starts sucking. You feel yourself coming apart on her face before you can stop yourself. She hurriedly removes her fingers, mouth sucking you even harder when you feel liquid gush out of you. You grab the back of her head and scream. You can’t stop it, you don’t want to. You throw your thigh over her head and curl your foot into her back, still riding the high. When your pussy stops shooting the mysterious liquid out Mel’s fingers find themselves back inside, four this time.

You feel tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, as she finger-fucks you. Mel pops back off your abused clit to whisper praises, good girl, you're doing so good, look at how well you take me, you feel heavenly, and when she goes back to playing with your clit you know you don’t want anyone to fuck you unless it’s her. Maybe you can ask her to teach you how to give hickeys next.

CAITYLYN KIRAMMAN

You were horny. Cait was horny. You both kept glancing at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, sussing out what the other was thinking. The movie you guys were watching was a rating away from being straight porn. When it was over you, both decided to call it a night. It was late she said. You guys had class tomorrow you said. When the lights turned off, you both said goodnight and laid down in your shared bed. You two were so close and loved being near each other that on the first day of the semester you pushed your twin beds together. Oh, how you were regretting that idea now. All you wanted to do was fuck yourself. You knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without an orgasm and so after twenty minutes when you thought Cait was asleep, you found your hand traveling into your boy shorts. You sighed in relief when your fingers grazed your throbbing clit. You rubbed it for a few seconds before shoving two fingers into yourself.

That relief was short-lived when you heard a breathy moan that didn’t come from you. You tensed up and stopped. When you didn't hear anything—maybe she was making those noise in her sleep—you slowly started to move your fingers in and out, palm rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and turn onto your back. You could barely move your fingers in and out lying on your side. You part your legs and moan when you finally hit your G-spot. You're so horny but your imagination isn't cutting it. Opening your eyes you turn your head to find the outline of your best friend who was the star in some of your fantasies, her hourglass figure would for sure spark a fantasy. When your eyes adjust to the dark you're shocked to see Cait staring back at you, her blanket pooling at her hips when you could see her hand abruptly stop moving. Your Cait was masturbating too, in the same bed as you. A grin spreads along your face.

“I-I’m not—”

“I am.” You whisper, pushing your blanket off you. Her eyes immediately latch onto where your fingers are slowly pushing in and out. Your other hand comes up to your tank top where you push your shirt down. Your breasts spill out. Cait’s face turns into a tomato, eyes widening even more than they already are. She doesn't remove her gaze from your breasts when she starts fingering herself again. You watch her mouth part into a small O and her eyes roll to the back of her head. You imagine what she looks like riding your face and start to speed up. Your other hand twisting your nipples.

“I-m gonna..” Cait whimper and spasms for a few seconds. You moan at the look on her face, so pleased with herself, and soon enough you're squeezing your eyes and coming too.

#.satoruan writes #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #violet x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #cait x vi #mel medarda #mel x reader #mel x you #Mel x y/n #arcane smut

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