#Maybe he likes fresh tastes better?

[dunmeshistash]

Tomato fandom also very passionate

It's okay this is tomato lover on tomato lover violence I just like to bully Kabru <3

[kingkatsuki]

One of my absolute favorite “cliche” tropes is amnesia fics where reader has been dating character for years, but they forget and then they can only remember dating their ex. So it’s like they go back to the ex because it’s all they’ve ever known, and their current love has to cope with seeing the love of their life in the arms of another guy.

I could read that trope a million times over and never get bored or think it’s too repetitive.

[pushing500]

Vanic on a Laezel route? Haven’t romanced Laezel as a fellow Gith. Have they had any interesting dialog about that? Must get at least a little approval from perhaps knowing gith lore—

Also his original barbarian outfit is so deceiving! It highlights his rib cage, making him look extra skinny. Not that he isn’t. But he is a bit of a dehydrated meat of a barbarian.

He's trying to romance Lae'zel, but I worry that he might be locked out of it based on a one-night thing he had with Astarion. I suppose I'll find out come Act 2, though.

She likes it when he plays Pirate and pushes unsuspecting Duegar into Underground Lakes, though, so hopefully he still has a shot lmao.

He doesn't like the other githyanki he's met so far, just Lae'zel. Voss is rude and mean. Lae'zel is at least starting to be a bit more polite (to Vanic, at least).

They do also have a bit of unique dialogue! I can't speak for romance-specific dialogue, of course, because Vanic hasn't managed to woo Lae'zel yet, but I was interested to see that she seemed nicer on the nautiloid when she was talking to Vanic than when she was talking to Alulin (my resist The Urge gnome) or T'uin (my chaotic evil Urge 1/2 drow).

The two of them also have some githyanki-specific back-and-forth, for example, putting their heads together to try and figure out if the refugees were "teeth-lings" or "tieflings".

As for his barbarian outfit making him look particularly close to a mummified husk of beef jerky... If intellect wasn't his dump stat, I'd say it was a cunning ploy to make people disregard him as a threat.

Unfortunately, he doesn't seem bright enough to come up with that sort of thing on his own.

More Vanic coz I like showing him off. He looked very pretty in the light before he chopped Nere into pieces so Sovereign Spaw would love us.

Vanic and the Girlbosses after chopping Nere up...

He looked so fuckin' nervous for the entire interaction with the githyanki patrol near the mountain pass. He just let Lae'zel do the talking. Maybe he's shy?

The two bestest barbarians you ever did see <3 <3 <3

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Picture this: Dragons using their caves to age cheese. Dragon Cheesemakers!!

The dragon coiled his enormous body, completely blocking the entrance of the tunnel that lead to the caves.

“No,” he snarled, smoke pluming from his nose.

The cheesemonger pinched the bridge of her own nose. “Look, I explained this to you at the start,” she tried once more. “I make cheese.”

“Yes,” the agreed, nodding his scaly head.

“Then I bring the cheese here.”

“Yes.”

“Then you store all the cheese in your cave, keeping it at the perfect temperature and humidity.”

“Yes.” He sounded particularly proud of this part.

“And then when the cheese has ripened,” she concluded. “I come to pick the cheese up again.”

A thunderous scowl clouded his maw. “No.”

“But that’s how it works!” she cried in exasperation. “I make the cheese, you store the cheese, I sell the cheese, I make more cheese!” She peered up at him. “You do realise I cannot bring you new cheese until I have sold this cheese.”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “Ah, but what if—” he began. “What if you go and make more cheese. And bring me the cheese. And I put it in my cave, with the rest of the hoard. And then I keep it there forever.”

“No,” she said flatly.

It was remarkable how much a dragon could look like it had just swallowed a lemon.

“You can’t keep cheese forever,” she insisted. “It will spoil and go bad!”

“You said it would get better and better!” the dragon roared indignantly. “And I take good care of them! With the air flow and the humidity and the temperature!”

“And that is great,” she said, trying to smile through her frustration. “But when a cheese is ripe, it’s ripe! Then you should not be kept anymore, it should be eaten.”

The dragon scraped it’s formidable claws against the stony ground and sulked.

“Look…” The cheese mongering business did not tend to require a lot of sweet-talking, but she was making an effort. “I’m sure the cheeses that aged in your cave are the best cheeses people have ever tasted. When they find out how delicious they are they will want us to make loads more. Maybe several caves’ worth!”

The reptilian eyes stared at her with disgruntled, reluctant interest. “Several caves?”

“If we’re lucky! And I could make so much cheese that I could bring you new cheese as soon as I pick up the aged cheese. Your cave would never even be empty!”

This seemed to strike a chord. The dragon lifted his head a little.

“And that would really be much better for the rest of your hoard,” she continued with fresh inspiration. “Because if you leave cheese too long, it might go bad and spoil the cheeses next to it too!”

A nervous ripple went through the beast’s scaly body, but he clearly was not convinced just yet. “But what sort of a hoard is it if I have to give it away,” he complained.

“Well! Cheese is not just any old hoard! It’s a developing creation! And you will have a hoard that is constantly developing too. Constantly changing, but, if we do this right, never shrinking.”

The dragon looked at her solemnly, wavering with uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn’t hold it against the poor thing, it must be a difficult concept to wrap his head around.

“And I will tell you what,” she said encouragingly. “If business is good, I can start investing in some really good crumbly cheeses. You can keep those in your cave for five whole years!”

“That is quite a long time for humans, is it not?” he said, sounding a little more cheerful.

“Very long. Especially when it comes to cheese. Cheeses that have been aged that long are very expensive.”

In retrospect, she should perhaps have led with that. Gourmand or not, a dragon was still a dragon after all. A glittering, toothy grin appeared on her recalcitrant business partner’s shout and he moved just enough for her to move past him into the mountain.

“Tell me more about this expensive cheese that crumbles.”

She hid a smirk. “If you help me carry some of the current ones out, it would be my pleasure.”

[euthymiya]

[ YOU SAY I’M STRONG (BUT YOU MAKE ME FEEL WEAK) — FT. KINICH ]

SYNOPSIS: kinich can’t quite put his finger on it, but he doesn’t like your new friend. you seem to put two and two together a little better than he does

WORD COUNT: 2.6k words — short n’ sweet like sabrina

INCLUDES: female reader ; mature 18+ content ; jealous/insecure kinich ; spoilers for his character stories ; references to his father’s abuse, gambling, and alcoholism and his mother’s departure ; unnecessary slander of a poor npc who did nothing wrong in canon lolll ; reader sits on his lap ; making out ; dry humping ; alludes to sex afterwards ; not proof read

Kinich knows he’s strong.

He’s gifted. Athleticism comes easily to him, he’s certainly skilled when it comes to wielding his vision, his claymore takes a good deal of talent to swing, and he’s never quite had trouble excelling in combat.

You say he’s strong, too—but not for the same reasons.

You’ve been through so much, you like to whisper.

You grew up so fast.

You’ve come so far.

For some reason, you like to measure strength differently. Kinich doesn’t always understand it—he doesn’t think he’s strong just for surviving the way you like to say. He thinks he’s resourceful, maybe. Perhaps even clever or quick-witted. Strong has never been something that’s come to mind when he thinks of the things he’s grown up around.

He was never strong enough to protect his mother. He couldn’t have saved his father if he’d tried. He never even stood up to the man when his father was alive—his only skill then was running.

Strength found him as he got older. When his weakness was tiresome and burdened him enough that he needed to find his way in this world, Kinich found strength.

He’s good at running. Picking up something as heavy as a great sword isn’t too hard for him. Learning how to dodge and throw a punch is easy enough. Dendro isn’t too complicated to master with enough practice.

Kinich is strong. He knows that, but today, he feels weak.

“Your eyes cross when you think too hard,” you murmur. He breaks from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, relaxing only slightly when that breathy giggle of yours tickles over the shell of his ear as you kiss his cheek and settle beside him. “Here, they’re fresh.”

Kinich likes quenepa berries. They’re easy to grow and rewarding to taste. They were his mother’s best crop, in fact. He lets his lips part as you push a few between his lips and grin.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

Something is nagging in his mind still. Something that whispers one unsatisfactory word over and over and over in his head.

Weak. Weak. Weak. You’re weak. Incredibly weak. Pathetic and weak. You’ve always been weak.

You seem to notice it too— “You’re still thinking,” you point out gently.

Tell me about it, is what you mean. Talk to me.

“I’m not sure if it’s possible for someone to ever stop thinking,” he replies smartly. “Well…I guess unless that someone is you.”

“Hey,” you huff, snatching away your bowl from him as he reaches for a few more berries. He’s smug—the deftness of his fingers makes for an easy grab at a good handful before you can properly create distance between him and your bowl. “Take that back. Now!”

“It’s a bit empty up here sometimes, don’t you think?” He pokes at your forehead, chuckling at the curl of dissatisfaction on your lips.

“Well, it’s better than having someone like you think too hard. That’s a bit dangerous,” you grumble.

He laughs. Momentarily, the voices quiet. “My quick thinking has helped out a good once or twice,” he points out, popping a few more berries into his mouth.

Sweet. Juicy like he remembers. He hasn’t had berries quite like these since his mother’s departure.

“Alright,” you roll your eyes half-heartedly, “I get it. You don’t want to talk about it.” He’s silent at that—you’re right. He doesn’t want to talk about it. But perhaps more importantly, he doesn’t quite know how to. “You know you can tell me anything, though. Right?”

Kinich doesn’t know exactly when this started. He started with a good day. Exceptional, even. Somehow, it got lost along the way.

First, you woke him up with a kiss—(really, he was awake already, but sometimes he likes to pretend to be asleep so your lips do the honors of breaking him from his slumber. A minor inconvenience of laying perfectly still for the hefty reward of your lips). Later, he landed a commission with a decent profit of mora. It went by fast enough that he could swing back home to grab you for lunch.

And that’s when it starts to all go downhill.

“Of course I do,” he answers instantly.

“Then tell me,” you pout.

I don’t know how, he wants to say. Instead, he settles with: “You know him. The guy we ran into.”

It comes out a tad bit grumpy against his will. He doesn’t completely understand what it is that makes him feel so unsettled—Kinich knows that in a fight, that man is practically a house of cards if he is the wind. And he’s strong; he knows that as much as he knows you do, too.

He still can’t shake the feeling of being so weak.

“Oh,” you tilt your head, “yes, he moved from Toyac Springs! He’s very nice, I like to help him find his way around here sometimes.”

“He gave you a hug,” Kinich points out blandly.

“He did,” you nod slowly, “he’s friendly, you know?”

“Friendly.” He tests the word on his tongue. He doesn’t like how it tastes. Like a bitter, unripe quenepa berry that’s been harvested too early.

His father tended to do that. Impatient and unyielding to reason is how he remembers his father to be, snatching berries from the vines against his mother’s insistence before spitting them out with an angry grunt.

Absolutely worthless, he’d remember hearing an angry voice spit. You can’t even grow a few decent berries.

They’re just not ready yet, his mother’s voice would waver.

Weak, he remembers feeling. Unable to stand up to his father. Unable to take care of his mother.

Oddly, it’s how he feels with you right now.

“His name is Hakau,” you say carefully, “and we’re friendly sometimes. It’s nothing like that, though.”

“Like what?”

“Kinich,” you sigh, “is everything okay?”

Something in your voice tells him you know everything is definitely not okay. But you want to hear it from him. You want the words from his mouth directly.

He doesn’t know how to give that to you. He doesn’t even know half of what he’s feeling—just that there’s a heavyweight in his throat that tastes and feels like lead when he swallows.

“Everything is fine,” he mumbles. “I just haven’t ever seen him, that’s all. I was curious.”

“And…that’s it?”

“I suppose so.”

“I don’t…” you pause, biting your lip as you study him for a moment before shifting to crawl on his lap, straddling his hips before your hands cup his cheeks. “I don’t think you’re telling me everything.”

“I don’t know what to tell,” he finally admits.

“You don’t like Hakau?” You ask gently.

“He talks a bit much,” he shrugs. “And he laughs a lot.”

“He’s a bit energetic,” you agree, smiling a little at his confession. “I guess he’s not for everyone.”

“But he is for you?” He raises an eyebrow.

Your face softens as you lean in and press a small kiss to his nose as you whisper, “I think you’re for me. Does that count?”

“You’ve never mentioned him,” he adds, refusing to meet your eyes.

“He’s not really the most important development in my life,” you chuckle, “I only see him here and there.”

Kinich is strong. Physically, he knows that. When it comes to fighting a war and hunting a saurian, he’s adept. Beyond that, all he knows to do is stand on the side and watch people he loves exit his life. Because he’s never enough.

Weak. It’s what he feels when someone like Hakau is able to smile brightly and pull you into a hug right before his eyes. When was the last time he hugged you under witnessing eyes?

Never, he thinks. He touches you in the privacy of your home where no one is there to witness the fact that he loves you.

Weak. It’s what he realizes he is when your eyes are bright and excited to see a man whose expression mirrors the same show of joy. When was the last time his face expressed that much affection for you?

He can only assume there hasn’t been a moment—not when his cold expression and distant eyes have been something he’s heard about time and time again.

Kinich is too weak at building love. He doesn’t know how to be a son who’s enough to be better for, to give up gambling and a few sips of alcohol. He doesn’t know how to be a son who’s worth staying for, who’s the reason every obstacle is worth fighting through—even when it comes in the form of a drunken slap or a slurred yell.

He doesn’t know how to be a man worthy of your love, either. Not one who can come and greet you with something as simple as a hug. Not one who can display his affection on his face from nothing but a bright grin alone.

He’s too weak for that. His heart is a muscle he’s never strengthened. His limbs are too frail to support carrying your heart in his hands, too—he’s never been worthy of your affections.

At least, that’s what his mind has always told him. He knows you’d disagree, but that’s only because your eye is trained to see only the good. You don’t look at him to search for the reasons you shouldn’t stay.

Maybe Hakau could easily be a reason you should leave, though.

“He hugged you pretty tightly,” he grumbles one last time. It’s a bit petty—you’re sweet enough that you giggle and let it slide.

“I think I see the problem,” your grin widens, “I think you’re just a bit jealous, is that it?”

“Jealous of what? His awful haircut?” He rolls his eyes.

Yes, he thinks deep down. Yes, he’s jealous. He’s jealous of the way joy comes easy to Hakau and the way it seems to roll off of him in waves at the sight of you. How easy it must be for him to love you and love you strongly. Not some weak, sorry excuse of affection that Kinich offers you loosely gripped in his inadequate fist.

You’re kind, though. Patient and gentle as your hands cradle his cheeks and force him to meet your gaze.

“There are reasons for everything, you know,” you murmur.

“You’re saying there’s a reason his hair is so ridiculous?” He asks incredulously.

You laugh, airy and bright as you roll your eyes. “No, silly. There’s a reason why I love you and don’t love him.”

“Like what?” He asks, feigning a casual tone. Please tell me, he thinks desperately.

“Like when you pretend to sleep so I kiss you awake,” you tease, kissing his jaw.

He pauses. “How did you—”

“Or when you spend your earnings after a long commission to take me out to lunch.”

“Anyone could do that—”

“Or when you force Ajaw to fly me up a mountain because I’m too scared to climb.”

“Technically Ajaw does the work there—”

“Or when you share your pillow with me when I come hog it.”

He cracks a small smile at that, letting out a short laugh as he mumbles, “You do hog my pillow a lot.”

“I can’t list all the reasons I love you,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth, “but I can’t come up with a single reason not to love you. I think that’s plenty.”

Kinich is strong. He’s able to support your weight when you lean into him more, settling most of your body onto his lap as you kiss him deeply. His fingers dig into your hips, guiding you closer as he groans into your mouth.

He loves you when you kiss him, and he loves you when he can feel your body nestled against his. It’s a strong, palpable feeling he can’t deny—and he’s starting to think you feel it from him when you smile into his lips as his hand cradles the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.

“I could tell you a couple of great reasons you wouldn’t love that weird guy.”

“His name is—”

“He talks too much. He laughs annoying. And his hair is weird.”

You giggle, burying your head into neck as you huff, “Those are all shallow reasons.”

“Okay,” he hums thoughtfully, “He doesn’t know you like I do.”

His hips roll up, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s a noticeable, sizable bulge in his pants that you can feel press against your core. He grins when you falter over him, strong arms wrapping around you and keeping you in place as he presses his own kisses to your jaw while you shiver.

“If you know me so well,” you say petulantly, “You know I hate when you tease.”

“But I actually know you better than that,” he chuckles lowly, “I know you fall apart nicer when you’re pushed around a bit, don’t you?”

His lips are back on yours, mouth warm and hungry as his tongue invades your space. It’s a brief battle—he wins and explores the parts of you he already has memorized by heart. You whine against him, damp and aching between your legs as a familiar tension builds up.

Your hips roll over his clothed cock, your cunt dragging along the erection with enough pressure that both of you pause for a moment and shiver. It feels good—it’s not enough to qualify as what you need from him, but it’s never not good with Kinich. You feel the pressure of his hard-on rubbing against your clit, and your hips roll in sync to build the light tingles of pleasure as your mouths kiss each other in a sloppy, messy exchange.

“I hate your friend,” he declares breathlessly.

“Don’t be jealous,” you tease, giving your hips a languid thrust to press harder against his cock. He groans, head falling to your shoulder as his hands grab your hips and guide your to rub against him the way he wants.

His way. He’s strong enough that you can’t fight against the pace he sets for you—not that you want to, anyway.

“I’m not jealous,” he grumbles in between moans, “I just don’t like the way he looks at you. He looks stupid.”

“I didn’t notice,” you say breathlessly, “I was too busy looking at you.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” He snorts.

You grind down against his cock once. Twice. The third time, he meets your movements, and both of you still, tense for a moment as the coil snaps and your walls flutter around nothing while his tip leaks with ropes of thick, warm cum that spoil his pants.

“F-fuck,” you whine, “Kinich.”

“So…so perfect,” he grunts, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

It’s needy—the way the both of you move desperately to feel the friction just a tiny bit longer to ride out the waves of your orgasms. You can feel the twitch of his cock through his pants as it dampens from the mess of cum, and he can feel the quiver of your cunt as he spams around nothing.

It’s not enough, but somehow it’s more than perfect, too. Because he’s him. Because it’s you.

“You’re supposed to fuck me properly when you’re feeling possessive,” you mumble against his chest.

He lets out an amused breath as he answers, “Yeah? Was that your plan all along?”

Kinich is strong. He flips you over easily, hovering over you as he nips at your pulse point. He can feel the erratic pace of it through the skin, earning a smug grin that his lips press into your neck.

You love him pretty strongly, he concludes—poor Hakau always stood the weakest chance.

Hakau is a random npc in the scions of the canopy im sorry for all this drama brother. You seem like a good guy I just needed someone to be the loser here for the sake of plot

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

[felixbit]

employee discount

pairing: jeongin x gn!reader w. 1.5k genre: fluff, coffee shop au summary: you've been going to the same coffee shop ever since you moved to busan. you seem to be the favorite of the cute barista, jeongin, because he started giving you the employee discount. warnings: none part 2

Moving to a new city was difficult. This much you figured out when you'd moved to Busan six months ago. Even with a job and an apartment, things seemed to still be stressful no matter how much you tried to settle in.

There were upsides to the move, though. Getting a coffee before work had seemed to slip into your routine as it did for many. Even if it would cost far less to make your favorite drink at home, it was a habit you weren't breaking any time soon. The atmosphere of a coffee shop was too pleasant to give up, and the coffee tasted marginally better.

It helped that there was this guy that worked there. The first time you'd seen him was the first time you were in the shop, so you were too busy getting yourself oriented to process just how beautiful he was. But every time you'd seen him since, you couldn't help but stare as he made your order.

His pretty smile whenever he saw you, the way his eyes would almost shut and make him look like a fox, was so endearing. He'd memorized your name by the second week of your attendance, and your regular order by three weeks. When you'd walk up to the register, he'd look like he was thinking really hard and guess a drink, sighing dramatically if he got it wrong.

Your days seemed to be noticeably worse on the days you'd get your morning drink and he wasn't there working. You knew that, of course, he was a man with a life and couldn't work every morning. But that didn't stop you from being bummed out about it. You'd yearn to see him almost all day, which made the next time you did that much sweeter.

Any friend you'd talked to since had gotten an earful about the cute barista you saw all the time. The day you learned his name, Jeongin, you might've typed it into your phone five hundred times in texts. For such a cute and endearing man, his name was equally amazing.

The way you obsessed over him almost made you feel like you were in school again. You could picture it: writing his name next to your own in the margins of your notebook with hearts around it. In truth, it was just a little barista crush. Maybe one day you'd shoot your shot, but it wasn't at the top of your priority list.

Maybe you were a little too blinded by love in the moment to notice, but the amount you were spending on coffee had gone down in the last few weeks. You didn't pinpoint the cause being from your coffee budget, so it surprised you when you'd finally figured out what was going on.

It was a day like most others. The late spring warmth was in the air, getting your final taste of the season before summer began. Just like you had every day, you got ready for work and went to the coffee shop.

Stepping inside hit you with the smell of fresh coffee grounds. The soft ambient music playing set you almost instantly into a state of comfort as you looked behind the bar to see a familiar figure. He was looking intently down at the latte art he was pouring out, so you couldn't see his face. You knew it was Jeongin.

Staring at him made you realize just how soft his hair looked. Maybe he bought a new conditioner? Either way, you stepped closer to the counter and watched as his steady hands carefully poured the white cream into the coffee mug. When you really squinted, you could make out that he was making a cute little bear face.

Just as he had finished the design and slid the mug out, calling out the customer's name, he looked up at you and grinned. You felt your stomach stir with butterflies as your eyes met. He waved a little hello as he walked with you over to the register.

"Good morning, Jeongin," You said as you smiled, your eyes looking over his name tag. The writing on it looked done by hand, and it made you wonder if it was his handwriting.

Jeongin briefly looked down at the register, tapping on the screen a few times before looking up at you again. "Good morning, y/n. How are you?"

"I'm not so bad," You shrugged, "Same as always, I guess. How are you doing?"

"Pretty good, actually! I'm moving into a new apartment soon. Got the contract all set and the deposit made," Jeongin explained, "Kind of exciting."

A flurry of questions spun through your head. You took a moment before asking, "A new apartment? Will you still be here in Busan, making coffee?"

Jeongin waved his hand, "Yeah, I'll still be around, don't worry. The new place will actually be closer to the shop," He grinned and looked you in the eye, "I'm not leaving you behind."

Your face flushed a little, but you sighed a little out of relief. "That's good to hear, I wouldn't trust anyone else to make my drink like you do."

Jeongin laughed and shook his head. "Well, I'm not going to be a barista forever.. I hope you'll find a way to cope with that."

"Don't remind me," You said wistfully, "What will I ever do without your expertise before I go to work?"

You could see him flash a look for a moment, as if he had something to say, before stopping and sighing. "I guess we'll see."

Deciding not to pry, you continued on. "Well, I guess you'll need to make my drink today to make me forget that you won't work here one day."

"I can do that," Jeongin tapped the register screen a few more times before you saw your order pop up on the small screen. You took out your card and looked up at the balance before watching it change as he pressed a button.

The price had fallen to half of what it originally showed as. Jeongin looked up at you like everything was normal, but your face only reflected confusion. Looking from the price and back to him a few times, you finally spoke up. "Wait, what did you just do?"

"Hm?" Jeongin furrowed his brows for a second, "What do you mean?"

"The price, it.." You pointed at it, your voice trailing off into nothingness. You weren't crazy, right? "What did you do to it?"

Jeongin paused for a few seconds before chuckling softly to himself. "You just now noticed?" You stared at him blankly until he continued, "I've been giving you my employee discount for like, three weeks."

You were dumbfounded, to say the least. You'd noticed you had a little more money than you expected to, but you hadn't put the pieces together as to why that was. "Why would you do that?" You asked.

He simply shrugged his shoulders and looked down for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe you're my favorite customer."

The outright admission took you by surprise and you couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face in response. "Am I really?"

"What if you are?" He looked up again and met your eyes. His voice sounded a little more confident, but you could notice a slight shake in the end.

You didn't really know what to do with that information. It would certainly explain why he'd done it, but that opened up a whole new avenue of questions. You simply inserted your card to pay for the drink, looking up at him. "That would be.. nice."

His eyes looked uncertain. You could see that he was looking at you for something, but it wasn't clear what it was. He took a breath and watched the transaction go through. He opened his mouth for a second to say something before stopping.

Leaving you hanging, Jeongin picked out the cup for your drink, writing on the order details and beginning to make it at his work station. Still confused, you decided to just watch him work as always. He was strangely precise in everything he did, always making your drinks look pretty and taste great.

You got a little lost in watching his hands work that he was pushing your drink out to you before you knew it. You snapped back into reality, seeing that he had a smile on his face as you picked up the cup with your drink. Taking a sip, you smiled at the taste. Perfect.

"Have a good day, y/n." Jeongin said as he wiped down his work station and finally turned away from you. You were positively bursting with questions but the interaction seemed to abruptly be over, so you walked towards the door while taking another sip.

As you went to take a drink, you noticed writing under your finger that seemed out of place. Moving your hand, you looked at the words in sharpie and couldn't help but laugh. Your heart stirred, turning back at Jeongin, who was totally looking back at you.

don't get me fired 01-1234-5678

[notafunkiller]

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern.  “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You  watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

*

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You  take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pill?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pill, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

[yandere-daydreams]

i'm being forced by myself to make a proper post for this poll. may gojo reign as a codependent king for years to come.

Cuteness Aggression With The Yan!JJK Boys.

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Mahito, and Sukuna.

TW: Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Implied Non/Con.

Gojo is near-violent. Expect to be constantly covered in bruises from his habit of full-body tackling you whenever he notices you're wearing one of his shirts or curled up in his bed or quirking your lips in the way he's never been able to resist. Tends to hold onto you for a while, too, keeping you pressed against him while he squeals and coos about how adorable his partner is, making you sound like more of an especially beloved pet rather than a live-in captive. No amount of squirming will distract him, either - he's going to be there until someone literally pries him off of you which, because there's a good chance he's already got you locked up tight in that luxury penthouse of his, isn't going to be anytime soon.

Geto is more used to receiving affection than dulling it out, so he doesn't really know what to do with himself when he's suddenly overwhelmed with the temptation to wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stop laughing in a way that makes his heart want to beat out of his chest. In the end, he sorta just,,, picks you up and starts carrying you around like a giant cat. Maybe pinches your cheek when you inevitably start complaining and ask to be put down. Cult members who ask why you've been slung over his shoulder for the past hour and a half are immediately done away with and curse-users don't fair much better.

Nanami, as the only (relatively) emotionally-regulated person on this list, takes it in-stride. He tries not to force affection onto you, so he'll settle for a few headpats and maybe a kiss to your forehead, if you aren't absolutely terrified of him at that point. If you catch him in a more vulnerable state, either injured or exhausted, he might be a little more forceful - wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you against his chest, where he can hold you until you eventually give-in and stop struggling, but at least he tries to hold himself back. Sometimes. Maybe. If you're lucky, that day.

Toji is almost as bad as Geto, but not quite as awkward. He tends to scoop you up, drag you away from whatever you're doing, and lay you down where he can pepper your face with kisses and whine when you shove at his chest. He usually lets you go after a few minutes, but it's in your best interest not to squirm too much until he does. He'll just smirk and kiss your neck and say something about how precious his little sweetheart is being, today. The fondness-motivated aggression is short-lived. What he'll do if you give him the idea that you might need more of his affection won't be.

Mahito is twice as unhinged as Gojo and only half as self-conscious. His only saving grace is that, by the time he gets genuinely overwhelmed by something you do, you're going to be used to weathering his constant attempts to suffocate you via forty-five minute hugs. When he realizes how cutely you wince when he pokes a fresh bruise and decides he has to dig his teeth into your shoulder and refuse to let go about it, you'll probably be too used to his ""affection"" to do anything other than sigh and make sure he doesn't severe anything important, this time.

Sukuna is, in his defense, rarely gentle about anything, so you really can't expect him to have a gentle reaction when he sees what an adorable reaction you wear as you wait for him to take his first drink from the chalice you laced with you most recent poisonous fixation. You can kick and thrash all you want as two of his arms loop under yours and pull you onto his lap, as he cups your face and shoves tongue down your throat and wonders aloud if you taste as endearing as you look. He always keeps you by his side, but for the rest of the day, he won't be satisfied unless you're practically on top of him, riding on his shoulders or straddling his thigh. He'll even drink your deadly little elixir straight from the bottle, if you ask him to. It won't work, but you know, it's the thought that counts and all <3

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 11 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: As soon as you told Jake you wanted him to come find you, there was no stopping him. He couldn't make you need him the same way he needed you, but he would take care of whatever made you cry. When you hurt Jake, you hurt yourself, too. He deserved an apology that you were ready to give him, and then he gave you more than you could have hoped for.

Warnings: angst, adult language, fluff, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

Jake whipped along the dark, quiet streets of Coronado before crossing the bay bridge at twenty over the speed limit in his truck. You called him. He thought his number never even made it into your phone, but after almost two weeks, you called him. Your voice sounded distraught, but when he went out on a limb, suggesting he come find you himself, you readily agreed. Now he just needed to figure out why you were upset and make sure you weren't hurt.

"Come on," he growled at the red light where he needed to turn left. There wasn't much traffic this late, but it still had been fifteen minutes since you called, and he didn't want to keep you waiting. Not when he heard the tears in your voice. Not when he missed you so much, it felt like part of him was lost.

Something must have happened. If he had done a better job with you, maybe you'd have been back at his place again tonight, safe and sound. That was exactly what he wanted. He hadn't cracked open a college textbook in almost eight years, but that didn't stop him from imagining you doing your classwork on his couch while he offered his two cents here and there. He'd been so damn desperate to feel as good as he had when you were there two weekends ago, he ordered himself your favorite kind of pizza tonight. If he thought it tasted bad before, it was a hundred times worse without you on his lap teasing him.

When he made it to your campus, he found the street you told him over the phone, and he drove a little slower, eyes darting from one side of the street to the other. He was tempted to call your number back to be sure he was on the right track when his gaze caught on a bench across the next intersection. 

It was you. Your head was in your hands, staring at the ground, but he recognized your Converse sneakers as soon as his headlights shone on them. You had on the cutest dress imaginable, and all Jake wanted to do was make sure you were okay.

He pulled his truck up to the curb and killed the engine, and you looked up at him as soon as he hopped out. You were illuminated by a streetlamp, shivering on the bench, and he ran to get to you faster. Tears streaked your cheeks as you stared up at him like he wasn't real, and he sank down onto his knees on the rough sidewalk at your feet.

"Darlin'," he whispered as more tears filled your eyes. "Tell me what's wrong."

You only got one word out before fresh tears fell. "Jake."

He scooted a little closer, and you let him take your hand in his. "You can trust me. I meant it when I said that." As he ran his thumb along your knuckles, he added, "If you tell me what's wrong, I'll try to fix it."

You hung your head and took a deep breath. "I'm such an idiot." Your eyes were closed, long lashes resting on your damp cheeks as you whispered, "I shouldn't have bothered you. Can you just give me a ride back to my dorm?"

"Hey," he coaxed, giving your hand a little squeeze. "I'll make sure you get back safely, but I can't help with whatever caused the tears unless you tell me what happened."

Your eyes fluttered open as you licked your lips. They parted in silence, and Jake was close enough now to feel your warm breath on his cheek. You were hesitating. Reluctant. You were never like this with him before. He was used to you making demands and walking around his place like you owned it, and he found that was how he preferred things. But he waited for you to speak, simply stroking your knuckles with his thumb until you were ready.

"Cooper happened. And it was awful."

Even the name made Jake's skin crawl. He'd been thinking about that stupid kid since the first time you mentioned him, but right now, anger burned just beneath the surface of his skin as he asked, "What did he do to you?" When you tried to hide your face, Jake ran his palm along your cheek and guided your gaze back to his. "Did he hurt you, Darlin'?"

The sentence hung in the air as Jake's throat grew tight. One more tear slid down your cheek as he examined your beautiful face, and you pressed your quivering lips together. Your lack of response was enough for him to get to his feet, and he pulled you up from the bench as well. He tried his best to stay calm, but he could hear the anger in his voice when he asked, "Where is he? I will fucking destroy him."

You responded by taking a step closer until your cheek was resting on his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you. Some of his rage melted away at your touch. Goosebumps covered your arms as you shivered, and he couldn't help but kiss your forehead. Maybe that gesture was why you finally spoke more than a few words, or maybe it was because you could still feel the anger inside him. Either way, Jake held you close as you said, "Cooper did exactly what I gave him permission to do. No need to destroy him."

"Did he hurt you?" he asked again, needing a straight answer.

"No."

"Do you want me to beat the shit out of him anyway?"

You laughed in spite of your tears, and the sound made Jake's heart clench in his chest. "Kind of. But it's all my fault for being so stupid."

"Look at me," Jake said softly. He waited until you did before he said, "You're not stupid. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way when I called you naive. You're young, but you're not stupid."

"I am though," you replied immediately, hand coming up to rest on his chest. "You were so sweet to me. A perfect gentleman. A perfect weekend. And then I just fucking threw it in your face and had sex with Cooper."

Jake let out the breath he had been holding. He wasn't really surprised. That was your main goal the whole time, and you were a good student. You knew what you wanted, and you went for it. But some twenty year old dipshit wasn't going to be able to handle your level of class. He'd been trying to show you that all along. "Let me guess, Darlin'. Cooper wasn't a perfect gentleman?"

You shook your head, and Jake leaned down to kiss your cheek. "It was terrible," you told him. "I just... I messed up somehow."

"Fuck," Jake murmured, hoping the answer to his next question didn't make him want to pull the bench out of the ground and throw it across the street. "Did he use a condom?"

Your eyes were sincere in the glow from the streetlight. "Of course I made sure he used a condom." You bit your lip and added, "You're the only one who can fuck me without one. That was lesson number twelve."

Even the thought made him dizzy. "Just me," he grunted. 

Jake hadn't stopped wanting you for a minute since you kissed him at the bar, but tonight, he found you sitting on a bench on a sketchy side street, crying over another guy. And that really fucking hurt. But at least you made sure Cooper used a condom. At least you were safe.

"He was nothing like you were," you whispered, and he held you tighter. "I asked him for some extra foreplay, and he didn't know how to touch me. I told him I liked oral sex, but he just automatically assumed I'd go down on him instead. I can't believe I did all of this so wrong."

When you tried to remove your hand from his chest, he covered it with his own. "You didn't do anything wrong. I can promise you that. Maybe... you just don't belong with that asshole." Jake sighed and fought the urge to kiss your lips, because he knew you belonged with him, even if you weren't quite there yet. "As long as you're okay, I'll take you back to your dorm. But... maybe in a couple days or a few weeks, when you think you're done crying over Cooper... maybe you'd consider calling me again?" Your eyes went wide as he added, "I really am done with the tag chasers. I haven't been with anyone since you. I think you were my final straw in admitting to myself I wanted something more. Because being with you felt perfect."

"Jake!" you gasped loudly. "I'm not crying over Cooper. I'm crying over how badly I messed things up with you!"

Jake's brow furrowed. "Oh." Now he felt like the idiot. He also felt a little light headed as you leaned in closer.

"I'm so sorry for making you feel cheap," you whispered, eyes shimmering with more tears. "Because you're not. I didn't mean it. I got scared of how much we did together in such a short amount of time. But it was unbelievable how special you made me feel." When he tried to say something, you shook your head before you touched your lips gently to his and asked, "Was it just a normal weekend for you, or did you feel as good as I did? And I'm definitely not just talking about the physical stuff."

"Darlin'," he whispered, wiping your tears away as they fell. "It was the best weekend of my life. And not just the sex. It was never just the sex." You kissed him tentatively again, lips barely touching his before you started to pull away, but Jake chased you for another one. And another one. And then you were smiling against his lips as he said, "I'm really happy you called me, Darlin'."

"Me, too. I missed you."

When he finally broke the kiss, he asked, "You're sure you got Cooper out of your system?"

"I'm so sure," you said softly, never breaking eye contact.

"Then let's get out of here."

Jake ushered you to his truck with his arm around your waist. "Are you taking me back to my dorm?" you asked when he opened the door for you.

"Nah. You're spending the weekend with me. Where you belong."

-----------------------------

Walking back through Jake's front door felt like going home. He held your hand the whole ride over, and when you told him you might need some things from your dorm room, he promised to take you back there in the morning to get whatever you wanted. Then he smirked and added, "But you wore everything from my dresser and made yourself at home last time you were here. You can do that again while we make up for being apart last weekend."

Now that you were standing in his living room where everything looked and felt familiar, you closed your eyes and let him hold you. "I missed you so much," you whispered. "I thought about calling or texting you so many times, it's not even funny. Then I told myself there was no way you'd forgive me."

Jake sighed deeply. "I was terrified that I didn't save my number in your phone before the battery died. I thought I'd never hear from you again. I missed you so much, I even stopped by the Hard Deck last weekend to see if you went there by chance."

Your gaze settled on the pizza box on the coffee table, and when you tried to reach for it, Jake grabbed your hand. You looked up at him, and when you tried one more time to open the lid, he wrapped you in a tighter hug and tried to walk across the living room with you in his arms.

"What kind of pizza is that, Jake?" you asked, tone playfully accusatory. 

This man literally picked you up from a bench on your school campus after you slept with a loser your own age, and he'd once again done nothing except show you respect and affection the whole evening. And now you could feel how easily you and he were falling back into the playful bubble you'd existed in two weeks ago. It was exquisite. This time you weren't going to burst it.

"Come on, Darlin'," he groaned, letting go of your hand so you could investigate the pizza box for yourself. "I couldn't help myself."

"Ha!" you said once you had it open. "My favorite kind!"

Jake's cheeks were pink as he nodded while you pointed at the half eaten pizza on the coffee table. "I told you I missed you," he whispered, and you stumbled back into his arms. "I've been sleeping with my window open so I could listen to the ocean, but it's better with you there. Everything is. The pizza was bad enough before, but it tasted like shit when I ate it alone. I didn't even want to stay in the tub until the water got cold the other day. I only lasted like five minutes"

Your eyes went wide. "You broke one of your own rules?" When he nodded, you kissed his cheek and asked, "Can we take a bath together now?"

His expression melted into a smile. "Go get it started while I get us some drinks."

Lighter than air, you practically floated down the hallway to his bedroom. Everything was tidy like you remembered it. He had some clean laundry folded on his dresser, and when you ran your hand along the soft cotton of his undershirts, you paused. Your black thong was sitting there as well. Excitement welled up inside you, because he never got rid of it. Your fingers wrapped around the lace and you carried it into the bathroom with you, excitement building further as soon as you saw the green toothbrush you used was still there, right next to Jake's. He held onto both of them since you were here last.

These were things a boyfriend would do. You were sure of it. When Jake strolled in with a Sam Adams in one hand and stemware filled with ice water in the other, you were holding your underwear and the toothbrush to your chest. He kissed your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world before saying, "I thought you were going to fill the tub."

"I was," you replied, making no move to do anything as he set the drinks down on the sink vanity. He smiled when he saw what you were holding, and then he opened the cabinet to pull out two towels and some washcloths. There was no new box of condoms inside. None at all.

"You're really done with the tag chasers?" you blurted out, toothbrush digging into the palm of your hand.

Jake looked up at you and nodded as he turned the water on to fill the tub. "Yeah. To be honest, I think I was done with them as soon as I picked up your fake ID from the floor." His green eyes were earnest as he stood tall again and reached for you. "Now, can we make this water as hot as possible? So it'll take longer to cool down? Once we start snuggling, I'm not going to want to get out."

His fingers were teasing along the strap of your dress at your shoulder as you finally set down your thong and your toothbrush. Then you let Jake undress you as the bathroom started to get steamy. The part inside you that was still afraid he wouldn't want you now was soothed by his words and his big hands on your bare skin.

"Climb on in, Darlin'."

You watched him undress from the comfort of the bath, and he handed you both drinks before he turned off the brighter lights in favor of the softer ones. Then he climbed in with you, and his arm was around your body immediately, guiding you to settle between his legs. 

You sipped your water while he sipped his Sam Adams, and the two of you smiled at each other before you asked, "Are you sure you want me to spend the night?"

He hummed into his beer bottle before taking another sip and setting it aside. "I'm going to want you here as much as possible." His words were so simple, but so full of possibility. He felt the same way you did. You were sure of it now. But you had to sip your water to take time to collect your thoughts.

"Well, I have work to do for my classes," you finally said, and he took the glass from your hand and discarded it.

"I can try to help you with it," he replied, both hands on your body once more. "Or maybe I can learn something new. You can be the teacher."

Your heart was beating a nervous rhythm even as you curled up against him with your head on his shoulder and your fingers in his chest hair. "Maybe we should buy more condoms tomorrow or Sunday?" you asked quietly. Nothing about the current state of things felt sexual, but you were still a tiny bit scared he would reject you in that way because of Cooper. But his lips found your forehead while he traced a little heart on your thigh.

"Sure. We can do that." He tipped your chin up so you were looking at him. His expression was serious as he softly said, "But the two of us don't need to have sex to be intimate and have a good time together. You have a lot more than that to offer, Darlin'. I do, too."

You thought back to all the little moments you and he shared in between hooking up. Making out on the couch and laughing together. Eating pizza and falling asleep in his arms. Those were the best parts. "I don't know what you did, but you made all of it so good. Every minute of the entire weekend."

He seemed to relax more as he accepted your words. "It was never just fucking to me. Not since the first night when you trusted me enough to sleep over. And certainly not since I asked you if you wanted it to be sex or something more. That was us making love."

You whimpered before his lips met yours, and you kissed him hard as you let your wet fingers drag through his soft hair. "It was perfect," you said against his mouth before you pulled away an inch.

His forehead was pressed to yours as he murmured, "You're perfect. You always were." His lips brushed yours as he added, "But yeah, after I take you out for lunch tomorrow and we stop by your dorm for whatever you need, we can get more condoms. I would enjoy that immensely."

"You better not get me pregnant before I graduate from college," you joked.

Jake snorted. "I better not get you pregnant anytime soon. I haven't even met your parents yet."

"You want to meet my parents?" you asked in surprise. 

You were perched on his lap awaiting a response as Jake leaned back against the tub. His gaze lingered on every part of your face before he casually asked, "Which lesson were we on?"

He was being coy and sweet and sincere, and all of your feelings were right there at the surface now. "Are you serious right now?" you asked, poking him in the abs. When he nodded, you said, "We were on number thirteen."

"Right. Lucky number thirteen. My favorite one," he crooned, offering up nothing else.

After another beat, you poked him again and said, "Spit it out, Jake. What's the lesson?"

"Smartass," he muttered. The water was starting to cool down now, and when you shivered, he just held you a little closer. "Lesson thirteen is more for me than for you." He paused to kiss you before saying, "I'm feeling like I don't want to be with anyone else. Just you. Make this a permanent thing. Think you can humor me by labeling it?"

"Yes," you replied so quickly that he was laughing when your lips crashed against his.

--------------------------------

Jake wrapped you up in one of the towels, and the two of you brushed your teeth side by side. You already knew where everything was, and without prompting, you rooted around in his dresser drawers until you found something you wanted to wear. Then you climbed into his bed like you knew without a doubt you'd always be welcome there, and he turned off the lights.

"Jake," you whined softly, patting the empty spot next to you in the glow from the moonlight. When he didn't immediately move, you added, "Get in bed with me."

But he took the time to admire you as he slid the window open another few inches. The sound of the ocean had a calming effect on him again now that you were back, and he felt more peaceful. You belonged here with him. When you reached for his hand, he let you tug him toward the bed with a smile on his face. He belonged with you, too.

"That's better," you whispered, melting into him as soon as he had his arms around you under the blanket. "Good night, Jake." 

"Night, Darlin'." He was ready to keep you warm all night and spend the weekend showing you that he made an excellent boyfriend. "I love you."

---------------------------------

Jake and Darlin' pulled it together in the end. Thank you for reading my fic about intimacy, consent, trust and knowing your worth. I loved every second of writing this. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[satori-runa]

—Sweet as you

Summary: You and Captain Curly share a meal, despite your irritation regards the device that bakes your food.

Tags: Established Relationship, fluff, before the crash

Words: 0,8k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

No matter how many times you stand in the kitchen, Curly would always be amused by the sheer expression of despair on your face. He couldn't lie, it was extremely cute for him to see your brows furrow in irritation and your nose scuffing up slightly.

“You can't tell me that is cooking.” You mumbles, glancing at the device on the counter and the two packs of different ingredients in your hand. “This is more like…dark forbidden witchcraft.”

Being stuck in space, between all these stars, means that there is no fresh food, shops, or delivery services. The crew was certainly stuck with the device that mixes packs to make dishes. And as a former self-claimed chef, you hated it. This wasn’t cooking, and it never would be.

“Food is food.” The Captain chuckled quietly, bringing some tone into his usually exhausted voice. “As long as it works and we don't starve.” He took the packs gently out of your hands and placed them onto their respective spots in the cooking device, watching it close and make some bread.

“Told you, evil witchcraft.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched the machine whirr to life, producing something that only barely resembled real food. “I miss actual cooking.” You muttered, leaning against the counter. “You know, where you chop vegetables, sauté things, maybe burn a little garlic by accident.”

Curly smiled, stepping closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I know,” he said softly, his voice less teasing now. “And I miss seeing you in your element, making something real. But hey, when we get out of here, I might see what I can do to improve this experience for you. Who knows, maybe we can get an actual freezer to store products and a stove.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the exhaustion of space life momentarily lifting.

You looked up at him, your frustration melting a little under his gentle gaze. “You promise?”

He chuckled, a hand resting lightly on your waist. “Of course. You’re going to make us a feast as soon as we’re planet-side again.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I’ll hold you to that.” The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and you moved your hands to hold him closer.

Curly pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his hand brushing through your hair. “In the meantime, we’ve got witchcraft bread.” He grinned, reaching for the freshly made loaf. “And the company isn’t so bad either.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I guess I can live with that.”

You settled at the small table with Curly, the freshly made bread, and some packets of synthetic jam between you. Despite your earlier complaints, the warmth of the meal and the quiet intimacy of the moment made it feel… different. Better. Curly tore off a piece of bread and handed it to you, his eyes soft as he watched you.

You hesitated at first, taking a small bite, expecting the usual bland taste. But somehow, with Curly sitting across from you, smiling like that, it didn’t seem so bad. The bread was warm, and the sweetness of the jam clung to your tongue in a way that felt almost comforting.

“You’re enjoying it.” Curly said, his lips shifting into a grin as he watched your expression soften.

“Maybe just a little.” You admitted, taking another bite. “But it’s definitely not because of the bread.” You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of the moment wrap around you like a blanket.

Curly chuckled, taking a bite himself. But when you noticed a few crumbs clinging to his lips, you reached out instinctively. “You’ve got something…” You murmured, brushing the crumbs off the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips quirked at your touch, eyes twinkling.

Before you could pull your hand back, Curly gently caught your wrist, holding it in place. His gaze locked with yours for a moment, soft and teasing, before he slowly leaned forward. His lips pressed against your fingers, and he licked a bit of jam that had smeared onto your skin, his eyes never leaving yours.

A warm flush spread across your cheeks as his lips lingered, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. “Tastes better this way.” He murmured with a playful smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, heart fluttering at the way he looked at you, so full of affection. “You’re impossible.” You whispered, feeling the closeness between you like a steady heartbeat.

“Maybe.” He said, still holding your hand gently in his, “But I make the jam taste sweeter, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded as you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah, you do.” You whispered, feeling the warmth of him giving you comfort.

[obsesssedblerd]

Either he is utterly clueless, or he’s toying with you because he knows you think he’s attractive. You don’t know which is worse.

Choso, your roommate, walks around the kitchen of your shared apartment, preparing breakfast like he does every other weekend—when he works less hours due to his little brother staying over for a few nights. In the living room, you can hear Yuuji and best friend, Megumi, playing video games together and enjoying the slow Saturday morning. 

You should focus on that and maybe offer to play games with them- No, you should focus on the smell of the food. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, something sweet that’s baking in the oven. However, you don’t focus on any of that, and your feet remain glued to their spot at the kitchen doorway, and your eyes stay locked on your roommate. 

Choso was only wearing sweatpants. You can tell that he was fresh out of a shower. His hair is left down this morning, and you can’t help but think that it looks even better that way, especially with the dark strands of his bangs still falling in front of his face. Then his upper body. Holy shit, his upper body. You knew Choso worked out often, sometimes with Satoru Gojo, but not once have you seen the results of his efforts in the gym this clearly. The muscles in his arms flex as he mixes something in a bowl, and your breath hitches slightly. Your gaze slowly drifts lower, taking in his toned chest, his abs, then settling on where his sweatpants hung loosely on his waist. Fuck.

You finally shake yourself out of it, then tear your eyes away from his body, deciding to look at the table instead. You clear your throat, and the sound of it gets his attention. “Morning,” he greets casually, facing you with his usual small smile. “Sorry if Yuuji and his friend woke you up. Megumi decided to stay the night at the last minute.” 

You smile in return, then shake your head. “Oh, that’s fine.” You walk close to the stove where he’s standing. “I don’t mind Megumi. He’s actually way quieter than the rest of Yuuji’s friends. What are you making in that bowl?” 

“Hm? Oh, this is some icing to go on top of the cinnamon rolls.” He grabs a clean spoon from a drawer, then dips it into the bowl. “I think it needs a bit more vanilla, but I’m not too sure. Could you also try it?” 

You nod, then reach to grab the spoon from him, but because your grip on it wasn’t secure, it nearly slips from your hand, resulting in some of the icing getting on Choso’s finger. You both laugh it off, then you sample the icing. 

As you’re tasting it, you see Choso checking on the bacon sizzling in a skillet. Then, he lifts his hand to his mouth that you’ve definitely stared at many times before. A split second before his lips close around his finger with the icing on it, you catch his tongue dart out to lick the icing. Then, he sucks it clean, releasing it with a light smacking sound. You nearly stop breathing. It’s so simple, so innocent, but it’s so damn–

“What do you think?” He asks as he heads over to the sink to wash his hands. 

“...Huh?” 

He looks at you, then points to the spoon in your hand. “The icing. What do you think?” 

Oh. That. 

Heat rises to your face, and you mask your sudden nervousness quickly. “You’re right. Just a touch more vanilla. I think a teaspoon will be perfect.” 

“Okay, thanks. I remember making it before, and…” Choso continues talking about the icing, but your brain tunes it out when you stare at him again. He was so attractive that it wasn’t fair. You’re certain that you’ve never wanted anyone this bad before. You promised yourself on the day you moved in that you wouldn’t fall for him. He worked a lot, and when he wasn’t working, he was a caring older brother to Yuuji. You assumed that he barely had time for anything else.

“Hey.” 

His low voice snaps you back to reality, and embarrassment creeps into your gut. “What was that? I’m sorry for being spaced out. I barely got any sleep last night,” you lie. 

You think he sees right through it, because he’s stepping closer to where you’re leaning against the counter. He places his hands on either side of the countertop, trapping you in between his arms—directly in front of him and nowhere to go. Your heart begins to race as he leans closer to you, the faint, fresh scent of his body wash filling your nose. The corner of his mouth slightly lifts, and the look in his dark eyes gives it away. 

He’s amused. 

“I asked if you could grab a bowl from the cabinet behind you so I could put the eggs in it,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a soft exhale. “No problem.” You turn around carefully, then lift your arm to open the cabinet, trying to pretend that you don’t literally feel him behind you. You grab a medium-sized bowl. “This one okay?” 

There’s silence, then you feel Choso’s gentle touch. His large hand holds your waist, and his other arm reaches up towards the shelf you took the bowl from, grabbing another one that was a bit larger. 

“I was thinking that this one would be better,” he whispers into your ear. 

You put the other bowl back before your slippery palm lets it fall, and Choso takes a step back and flashes a smile at you. “Nearly done with the food. Could you let Yuuji and Megumi know?” 

You do your best to hide how flustered you are, and nod. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go grab them. I’ll be back.” 

As you turn to leave the kitchen, you hear his quiet, amused chuckle, eventually drowned out by the sound of him putting some used dishes into the sink. 

Oh, he was definitely toying with you. 

-------

a/n: so do y'all know that one choso fanart of him wearing only sweatpants and making breakfast? yeahhhhhhhhhh

also ik we mostly hc him as being shy (and i love it) but there's something about him being the one doing the teasing.

[brattysuki]

spoiled || paige bueckers

In which Paige loves to take you shopping and buy you anything you want, so long as you thank her properly.

a/n: hello everyone <3 this is my first fic for the wbb community so I hope you all enjoy it!

pairing: pro league!paige bueckers x f!reader

word count: 4.2k I might’ve gotten carried away oops

genre: pwp, smut 18+ only please

warnings: public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, daddy kink, choking, finger sucking, degrading pet names (slut), daddy kink, slapping, ass eating (Paige is an ass eater, you can fight me on this)

“Baby, are you done yet? I wanna get going before traffic gets too heavy.” Paige called out from the bedroom.

You looked over yourself once more in the mirror. Hair? Flawless. Makeup? Dewy. Outfit? Just the right amount of slutty. You were definitely ready. Spraying on some of your favorite perfume, you walked out of the bathroom to meet your girlfriend who waited for you at the edge of the bed.

“Ready, baby.” You smiled, sitting on her lap and kissing her, leaving behind a trace of your fruity lip oil.

Paige licked her lips and inhaled softly, “Smell so good, I might just eat you up.”

“Taste good too.” You smirked before getting up and leaving her to find your shoes in the hallway.

Your girlfriend was quick to follow, shaking her head as she followed behind you, slapping your ass as you bent over to buckle your heels. She grinned at you and handed you your purse. You took it with a smile, leaning in to kiss her.

“Thank you, baby.”

“No problem, princess,” Paige grabbed her keys from the key rack, opening the door for you, “after you.”

— — —

Baby, pa' mí es normal (Ujum), toa' las tienda' reservada'

'Toy a dieta, pero el consumo de ropa alto en grasa, ey

Upon arriving at the mall, Paige held the front door open for you after greeting the usual security guard. He smiled as he locked the doors behind us, reporting into his radio.

“Just us today?” You asked, noticing the odd silence of the shopping mall.

Paige grinned, “Of course, baby. I took the liberty of reserving the entire mall for you today. Can’t have my girl getting distracted during your shopping spree now can I?”

“You spoil me too much.” You blush, taking her hand in yours.

The blonde wore a fake puzzled look on her face, “Me? Spoil you? Nah, baby, this is the minimum of what you deserve.”

The two of you walked around the empty shopping mall, browsing store after store. Despite having the place to yourselves, you couldn’t quite get into the mood of shopping. Instead you found yourself bored and frustrated. An hour had passed by and nothing had yet caught your attention, plus, you were starting to feel an annoying grumble in your stomach.

You huffed as you crossed your arms over each other, pouting at your girlfriend, “I don’t see anything I like.”

“Want some ice cream? Maybe once you’ve had a snack you’ll have some more energy to shop around.” Paige suggested.

She knew better than to ignore your obvious early signs of hangriness, last time she had ignored them, it resulted with you crying over the smallest inconvenience. After nodding in agreement, you followed her to your favorite ice cream stand in the mall. Paige ordered your usual order of a single scoop of vanilla with fresh fruit as toppings as well as a mint chip waffle cone for herself.

“Want me to pay?” You offered, handing her your wallet.

Paige smirked and gently pushed it away, “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s got it.”

Your face went hot as you stared at her, feeling sorry for the poor cashier who had to witness her cheesy attempts at flirting. Your girlfriend hands the worker a twenty dollar bill and gladly receives the two sweet treats, insisting the teenage cashier keeps the change as a tip. After grabbing a few napkins and a spoon, Paige found a quiet corner in the mall for you both to enjoy your ice cream.

You sat down on the plush seat cushion, happily digging into your ice cream. Shoving a spoonful of the frozen dessert into your mouth, you hummed out, “Fank you, baby.”

Paige tilted your chin up to look at her as she sat next to you, “‘s rude to talk with your mouth full ya know. Where’s those manners I taught you, hm?”

A rush of heat washed over your body as you swallowed your mouthful, reminiscing all the other times she’d repeated that phrase to you during not so innocent times. You frowned at her, those intimidating blue eyes intently looking you over as she waited for the correct response to slip past your lips.

“Oh hush, you’re not the boss of me.” You teased, giggling at the way her brows furrowed in frustration.

Paige’s grip on your chin tightened just enough for you to let out a small whine, “Sorry, I don’t quite think that’s how you speak to your girlfriend who has brought you out for a shopping spree. Now, only good girls get gifts. Do you want to know what bad girls get?”

You swallowed thickly, squirming ever so slightly in your seat, “What?”

The blonde leaned down to lick your ear before whispering, “Bad girls get punishments. Do you want to be punished?”

“No…”

A small bite down on your neck warned you that you had one more try to drop the attitude before there were serious consequences.

“No, daddy. I’ll be good for you, promise.” You whispered, shakily shoving another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth so as to not draw too much attention to yourselves.

Paige smiled, “That’s what I thought. Now let’s finish these so we can get back to shopping, yeah?”

Soon after finishing your ice creams, you had found several items that had caught your attention. A new purse to match the dress Paige had bought you last week as well as the matching wallet. The perfume you’d been eyeing for the past month, of course you’d get the perfume set. Who could forget the newest addition to your ever growing jewelry collection, a sparkly diamond bracelet. From an outside perspective, it may have seemed that you were materialistic for adding to the list of items that Paige had cashed out for you— but that couldn’t possibly be further from the truth. Your girlfriend truly loved to spend her hard earned cash on you, a form of gratitude for all the years of unconditional love and support that you had given her throughout the years. You had done more for her than she could even fathom, there were no words to describe how much you meant to her. So she opted to spoil you with all the things you loved and share her wealth with you, after all, without you, there’s no telling where she’d be.

— — —

Booty tight, no quepo en los True Religion (Goddamn)

(¿Cuál es tu size? Que son limited edition)

Dinero hay (Tiene cash), damn right (Duh?)

“Baby, what do you think of this dress?” You held up a beautiful long black dress with a gold chain strap to your body.

Paige observed, feeling the fabric and humming, “It’s pretty, baby. I’m sure it’ll look amazing on you. Do you want it?”

You paused to think, eyeing the several bags hung on your girlfriend’s arms, “Can I try it on first?”

The store employee nodded invitingly, “Of course you can! Let me show you to our dressing room, please feel free to try on as many items as you’d like.”

Paige nodded, allowing you to walk in front of her as the kind worker showed you to a spacious dressing room in the far end of the store. It was so big it could be mistaken for your walk-in closet at home. The tall blonde set down your bags in a corner of the room, smiling at the employee and thanking her once more.

“I’ll let you go ahead and take your time with this gorgeous dress, let me know if you need anything.” She smiled before excusing herself back to the front of the store.

You dropped onto the couch against the back wall of the dressing room, yawning as if you’d just gotten off your third graveyard shift in a row.

Paige shook her head before sitting beside you, gently placing your legs into her lap, “You act like you’ve been doing such gruesome, tiring work. I’m the one doing all the heavy lifting, ya know.”

“My head hurts from all this decision making. Do you know how hard it was for me to decide between which three purses I wanted from that Bottega earlier?” You teased, leaning back onto the arm of the couch into a somewhat lying position.

The blonde’s warm hands sneakily made their way up the dress you were wearing, massaging your legs, “I know, baby. You’re probably so tired of thinking aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” You pouted at her.

“Well, then how about you just stop thinking and let daddy take care of you, yeah? How’s that sound?” Paige suggested, bringing her hand back down to your ankle and bringing it up for a gentle kiss.

You smiled, standing up in front of her and lifting your dress over your head to leave you completely bare minus the black heels you were wearing. “Well, I am gonna need help trying on this dress.”

Paige instinctively reached for your breasts, massaging them before playfully pinching your tender nipples, “Naughty girl, how come you aren’t wearing any underwear?”

“I know how much you appreciate having easy access.” You winked, grabbing the limited edition black dress and slipping it on.

The dress was incredibly soft, rubbing your nipples deliciously as you pulled it down past your hips. The gold chain straps cold against your warm skin, expensive black fabric pooling just above your ankles. You stepped back and turned away from your girlfriend, gesturing for her to help with the clasp on the chains to hold the dress up. Paige stood behind you, securing the straps in place before running her giant hands over your chest. Goosebumps raised over your skin as she leaned down to kiss your neck, massaging your pillowy tits, fingers teasing to pull down the cowl neckline of the dress.

“So naughty today baby, what’s gotten into you?” She kissed her teeth, keeping one hand on your breast as the other snaked down to push your hips back against hers.

You let out a whimper, “N-nothing, just wanted to look pretty in some new clothes for you.”

Paige pulled your tits free from the slinky material of the dress, turning you around to get a good look at what was hers. Your glowing skin, your captivating beauty, and your luscious hair that she loved to pull on. You were a goddess if she’d ever seen one. The dim lighting in the dressing room was absolutely working in your favor, though, Paige couldn’t think of a time where you’ve ever looked less than perfect. Her hands run down your back, leaving behind a burning sensation on your skin before settling on the roundness of your ass which she loved so much. The dress sculpted you perfectly, hugging you as if it were made for you.

“Spin for me.” She ordered, squeezing once before gently shoving you a step back.

You obediently followed her orders, giving her a full turn to appreciate just how perfectly the dress fit you.

Paige groaned as she leaned back onto the couch, “Yeah… we’re definitely buying you this dress— in all the colors.”

“What about the matching heels? They only made so many of them and I’ll be so, so sad if I don’t have a pair,” you pouted, taking the opportunity to sit on her lap and loosely hang your arms around her neck, “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior, daddy.”

Paige felt a surge of wetness in between her thighs, rough hands lifting up your dress to pool around your waist. She placed a playful smack on your ass, reveling in your cute squeal. You felt far too warm for your comfort in between your thighs and couldn’t help but to grind down on her, sighing at the slight pressure on your bare pussy.

“Get on your knees, now.” The blonde ordered, shoving you off her lap but not before placing a loving kiss on your lips.

“Yes, baby.” You knelt before her on the cold floor, sitting on your heels with your hands on her knees.

Paige unbuttoned her pants, “Finish taking these off for me, slut.”

Your hands were quick to undress her lower half, tugging down her jeans and boxers all the way off before setting them down in a nice pile beside her on the couch. You salivated at the sight before you, the most delicious, prettiest, and wettest pussy you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing— though it was worth noting that it was all the only pussy you’d ever had. Of course, with the way you maneuvered your tongue, Paige had a hard time seriously believing you were a full virgin when you had first met.

“Make me cum, then maybe I’ll let you cum too.” Paige spread her legs, revealing herself to you in all her glory.

“Yes, daddy.” You nodded, spreading her legs further ever so slightly.

You dragged your tongue from her dripping entrance all the way up to her throbbing clit which was just begging to be sucked. Paige let out a quiet sigh, adjusting herself on the couch and scooting closer to your face. You moaned at the taste of her wetness on your tongue, determined to get some more out of her. A trickle of your own nectar had begun to drip down your thigh as well, a reminder of what your true goal was. The warmth of your soft tongue had Paige’s eyes fluttering shut as she tilted her head back to rest on the back of the couch, one hand pressing your face further into her cunt. You began to lick up and down more fervently, occasionally shaking your head side to side.

“Such a good little slut for daddy, you always look so pretty like this. Do you like how I taste baby? It’s all for you.” Paige cooed, looking down at you, gathering your hair out of your face.

You tried to pull away to respond to her, but to no avail. Her grip on your head was too strong, forcing you to speak against her wet pussy, the vibration causing her to shudder. “Mhm— I love it fo mufth.”

Your girlfriend smirked at your weak attempts to speak clearly, “It’s rude to talk with your mouth full, remember? Why don’t you try again for me, baby?”

A muffled whine sounded from your wet lips, “I love it fo mufth!”

Paige cut you some slack, loosening her grip on your hair to tug you back harshly, shoving her fingers into your mouth. You gagged around them as drool slipped past the corners of your lips, teary eyes staring back at your girlfriend. You blinked them away as you sucked on her long fingers, bobbing your head as if you were sucking on her strap that you were desperately craving. Her wet hand slapped your cheek with just enough force to leave a slight sting, a wicked grin on her face.

“That’s what you get for speaking with your mouth full, now get back to work. Wouldn’t want the kind lady wondering why we’re taking so long. Then she’d know just how much of a fucking dirty slut you are for eating my pussy in public.”

You shook your head with wide eyes, “N-no!”

Paige shoved your face into her wet cunt once more, bucking her hips up at the sensation of your lips kissing her clit. You flattened your tongue against her and curled the tip of your tongue to catch on her clit with every lick. Her wetness coated the entire lower half of your face, glistening under the warm lights. You knew you didn’t have much time before the store worker would come back checking in on the both of you, so you picked up the pace and began to solely focus on her bundle of nerves.

“Please, daddy,” you looked up at her with doe eyes, “wanna taste your cum. Need you to cum all over my face, please?”

“Ah, fuck. Just like that baby, eat that fucking pussy, baby.” Paige’s legs began to tremble around your head, abs tensing underneath her shirt.

You hummed against her, shaking your head side to side and licking at the spot you knew would surely make her fold. The adrenaline of the risk of getting caught motivated you to go even faster, obscene wet sounds filling the room.

“Cum for me, baby.” You moaned.

Paige bit down on her hand as she bucked up into your mouth, desperately seeking her release as the burning knot in her stomach got tighter and tighter. The sight of you diving into her with zero regard for the consequences of getting caught, solely intent on bringing her to climax turned her on in more ways than she could count. You looked so pretty on your knees, tits bouncing with each bob of your head— nipple piercings sparkling almost as bright as the glimmer in your eyes when you looked at her. The blonde couldn’t hold back any longer, not when you looked at her with such innocence— contradicting the sinfulness of your actions. She held your head in place as her hips bucked uncontrollably against your mouth, strangled moans slipping past her lips as she shut her eyes in pure bliss.

“C-cumming, baby. Fuckfuckfuck!” Paige groaned, her pretty lips parting open with a silent cry as she came all over your tongue.

Her cum gushed out, coating your tongue with her sweetness that you had been craving all this time. You continued to lick her until she had finally come down from her high, hands releasing your hair and gently pulling you off. Your girlfriend always looked so pretty right after an orgasm— face flushed pink, eyes slightly teary, and chest heaving as she struggled to calm herself down. You reached over for your purse, grabbing your water bottle and handing it to her which she kindly accepted.

“You okay?” You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, sitting down beside her.

Your girlfriend nodded slowly, “Yeah, it’s just that- you have a fucking blessing.”

Paige passed you the water before directing you to take a few sips, “Now it’s my turn to have some fun.”

You bit your lip as you put the water bottle back in your purse, turning to look at your girlfriend. Your eyes widened at the sight of her now fully naked, pale skin just begging to be marked. Her lean frame pushed you onto your back, you gladly welcomed her on top of you, your hands roaming the soft skin of her toned back. Your acrylics dug into her skin hard enough to draw a hiss from her lips and maybe leave a red mark or two.

“You look so hot when you’re on top of me.” you smiled at her.

The blonde leaned in for a kiss, biting your bottom lip as you wrapped your legs around her. You felt yourself melt into the kiss, heart beating at a thousand miles per hour as she nudged her knee against your pussy. Your skin felt as it was on fire, aching for the slightest touch.

You broke the kiss, “Baby, please. I can’t wait any longer.”

Paige smirked, “What do you need? Use your words, slut.”

“Need you to make me cum… I’ve been good.”

“Use. Your. Words.” Paige’s hand wrapped around your throat as a warning, “or am I not being clear enough with my orders?”

You batted your lashes at your girlfriend, her gold chain dangling in your face, “Want you to eat my pussy please, daddy.”

“Of course, princess. Since you’ve been so good for me,” She flipped you onto all fours, pushing your face into the couch cushion and leaned over you to whisper in your ear, “Been dying to taste you since before we left the house.”

Paige then sat back on her heels, big hands firmly planted on your ass to spread you wide open. She licked her lips at the sight of your pretty tight hole puckering back at her. Desire and temptation ruling over her, she couldn’t help but to sink her teeth into your soft skin. You let out a whine and jolted forward in pain, though that only spurred her on to smack your ass.

You wiggled impatiently, “Paigeee, come on. No more teasing.”

Finally, she placed a soft kiss onto your dripping hole. Her tongue expertly licked around your folds, collecting every drop of your sweet, sweet, candy. You sighed in relief as you pushed yourself back, her face engulfed by the globes of your ass. Paige moaned as she pulled your hips closer, fat tongue licking you up and down passionately. There was not a centimeter left untouched by her. You felt her tongue probe at your entrance before slipping in, the warm muscle thrusting in and out as she brought a hand down to rub your clit. You couldn’t help but shake your ass on her face as you felt your eyes roll back at the pleasure. Small gasps fell from your mouth, legs quivering.

“Hello? Everything alright in there? Do you guys need anything? Perhaps a different size?” The store worker knocked on the door, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to raise.

Paige pulled away to whisper, “Answer her, baby.”

“Y-yes! We-uh, I would like to try this dress on in pink as well please! T-thank you.” You called out, fighting back all the whimpers you so desperately wanted to let out as Paige inserted a finger into your sopping cunt.

“Very well then, I’ll bring that right away.” The click of her heels faded away in the distance.

Paige’s long fingers fucked you deliciously, hitting that sweet spot with every single pump. Her tongue poked at your puckered hole, circling it teasingly. You let out a whine as she licked you from top to bottom, wiggling as a silent request for more.

“Throw that ass back, baby. Let daddy see what a slut you are.”

You obeyed, of course you did. How could you not when she had you on cloud nine? Your hips had a mind of their own, throwing it back as if your life depended on it. Paige’s own moans were muffled by your wet folds, licking them up and down feverishly as she continued to fuck you with her slender fingers. Her tongue played with your clit as you began to shake, signaling you were close.

“D-daddy, faster please!” You whined, feeling yourself teetering over the edge.

Paige grunted as she curled her fingers downward, causing you to nearly cry out for her. You bit your lip as she continued to abuse your poor cunt, claiming it as hers over and over again. It felt like the room was spinning, your stomach clenching as she slurped and made the most ungodly sounds. Your girlfriend shoved in a third finger, stretching you just enough to push you over the edge. Her free hand rubbed at your clit, mouth catching the mini spurts of fluid spraying from your pussy.

“That’s it, cum for daddy.” She cooed, slowing down her movements as you fell flat on your stomach.

“Fuck…” you croaked out, feeling the familiar throb in between your legs.

Paige rubbed your back soothingly, waiting for you to come back down to earth. She reached for your purse and grabbed some of your personal wet wipes—which you always kept on hand in case of an emergency— and gently wiped you down, being mindful of your sensitivity. Once assuring you were cleaned up, she cleaned herself up as well, handing you your dress before slipping back into her own clothes. After a few moments, you finally mustered up the energy to dress yourself and lean against your girlfriend.

“I love you, you know that right?” She tilted your face up to look at her.

You smiled at her, “I know. I love you too, Paige.”

A knock sounded against the dressing room door, “Excuse me, I’ve brought you the dress you requested. I’ll leave it hanging outside the door!”

Your girlfriend interjected, “Actually, if its not too much of a bother, would you mind bringing the dress in every color you have available to the counter? We’ll be taking all of them.”

“Pai-“ you furrowed your brows.

“Shh, let me.” She smiled softly.

The worker paused, “Sounds great, I’ll have those ready for you.”

Paige stood up, helping you up as well before collecting your bags as well as the new dress you had yet to buy. After making sure you both looked fairly presentable, you followed her out of the dressing room and back to the front of the store— a faint soreness in between your thighs reminding you of the actions that took place on that poor couch. The employee greeted you with a big smile and a huge pile of dresses, all neatly folded on the counter like your girlfriend had requested.

“Here are your dresses, Ms. Bueckers, is there anything else I can grab for you?”

Paige looked over at you.

“The heels?” You asked shyly.

Your girlfriend turned to the sales lady, “We’ll also be taking the corresponding matching heels. Thank you.”

“Of course, give me one second.” She replied before walking off into the back.

You looked up at your girlfriend, or more so, sugar daddy it felt like, “Thank you, daddy.”

Paige leaned down to kiss you, “Anything for my princess.”

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for anon

Request: something with an orc and a female human? Something fantasy-based, maybe human owns a tavern? I'd be fine with whatever you thought worked though!

A/N: Sorry this is kind of late, life is hectic. Enjoy!

Kissing an orc

Orc x fem!reader || accidental exhibitionism, oral sex, groping

You are kneading the bread for the next day when the knock on the door startles you. “Your favorite orc is hereeeee,” your annoying naga helper sing-songs to you. You shush them in your way to the door, signaling them to stop or you’ll kill them. They chuckle and disappear to the front, a broom already on their hands. Good, at least they would stop being a little shit while they do the tavern cleaning.

You open the door and have to swallow a gasp. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him, it always amazes you how fucking beautiful he is. All giant, towering over you, with his beautiful olive skin and big tusks framing his appetizing mouth. Good goddess you’d give all your gold to be able to kiss him at least once to know how that mouth would feel against yours.

“Hi- hi,” you stutter. You chastise yourself, trying to act composed, but suddenly your skin feels too hot and your breathing is pushing your boobs a bit too forward.

“What was all that about? Am I your favorite orc? Do you know more orcs?” He looks so confused and adorable you want to pinch his cheek, but also kiss him senseless.

You look at him completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

“Yes?” You aren’t sure if it’s a question or an affirmative.

You take a deep breath, thinking about all the possible possibilities of what you are about to do, but you are so fucking tired. You want to know, and if it goes wrong, you can always change hunters and find a new person or monster to bring you fresh meat for your tavern every day, right? Yeah. You can probably find somebody else, but you can’t wait more time to know how do his lips taste.

You stare into his beautiful dark eyes and answer truthfully: “Of course you are my favorite orc, I’ve been trying to ask you out for months.”

“What?” He looks so surprised you want to laugh, but the nervousness in your stomach prevents you to do anything. “But, but… I asked and you didn’t… you didn’t…” He takes a deep breath and starts again. “I asked you to meet me for breakfast and you said you had to work. I asked you if you wanted coffee and said you had to work.” As soon as he says that, you can remember a few other times he asked you for coffee or lunch or some snack and you always refused because you thought he did it just because he was nice, not because he was interested. Were you really that obvious?

You look at him, your face mirroring his surprise. “Oh.”

“You are just too cute for your own good, damn it.” He doesn’t wait for your answer before his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you breathless. “We could have been doing this for a long time if you just said so,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you again.

Kissing an orc is even better than you imagined. His tusks frame your mouth perfectly and his lips are way softer than expected. He is perfect and you can’t even comprehend what he’s doing when he crouches and grabs your ass, pulling you up and walking inside, the deer he caught today left there, forgotten.

He moves around the kitchen like he owns it, and before you know it your ass is over a table and he’s kissing your neck, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. His hands are everywhere, tracing the edge of your corset, caressing your back and groping your ass over the skirt of your dress. His hands fit under the skirt and he goes up and up until his hand is over your center and you are panting, his mouth hot against your pulse point as he touches your vulnerable place.

He caresses your legs over your underpants and asks: “Can I?” His lips move against your neck when he talks and you have to suppress a tremor.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant, already pulling the skirt of your dress up to your waist as he pulls down your underpants, kissing your leg along the way.

“Have somebody ever…?” He doesn’t have to say it, you know what he means. You aren’t a blushing virgin, but you never had enough trust in anyone to let them… kiss you there.

“I never… Nobody ever… Not there,” you try to explain.

He gets it instantly, kissing your mouth until your brain is far away from your worries and his dexterous fingers find your pearl, flickering it and making you bite down on his lip. He groans and you giggle against his lips, he kneels on the floor in front of you and goes for it.

You moan very loudly as inexplicably pleasure breaks through your body, making you throw your head back and arch your back in an arch that leaves your boobs about to spill over your corset. You are sure it looks sinful from his position, but when you open your eyes the only thing you see is his face still buried between your legs, your thighs pressing against the sides of his head so strongly you are worried you are going to hurt him, but his pleased sounds are good enough to make you groan again.

You cover your mouth to avoid screaming his name as his tongue does wonders around your lucky pearl, his tusks framing your pussy in a way that leaves you breathless and ready for more at the same time. It’s wonderful and marvelous and all the adjectives you can’t even comprehend as he sucks and licks your hot center, dragging all kinds of sounds out of you.

You’ve never felt that kind of pleasure, and as it starts to peak, you don’t know what to do with all of it. You grab his hair and pull, making him grunt as his fingers dig into your hips where he’s holding you still. You are messing up his braid, but you can’t care about it as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. It’s the most intense experience of your life and when the pleasure hits its peak, you have to bite down on your hand to avoid the cry that was about to leave your mouth.

He licks you through it, until your legs are trembling around his head and your pussy is pulsating in time with your heartbeat. He doesn’t stop there, he keeps milking all the pleasure out of you with such frantic need that you can’t do anything but match it. When your second orgasm hits you, the first one was still there, joining in the middle in the biggest wave of pleasure you’ve ever felt.

He kisses your pussy and your highs, not trying to make you untie your legs from around his head. His tender caresses are a contrast with the frantic devouring he just did, but it’s the best kind of contrast. You are still breathing hard and he’s still on the floor in front of you licking you clean when the door to the tavern opens with a screech.

“Dude! That’s where I make the bread!” The annoying naga screams as he opens the door just in time to see him kissing your pussy one last time.

[moonchild9350]

Bows, Lilac, and Kittens

Summary: Han doesn’t think he’s needy, unlike what his band mates believe, but that all changes when he sees you in his favorite type of lingerie.

Pairing: established relationship idol Han x fab reader

Genre: smut 18+ MDNI

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: pussy job, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cum tasting.

Notes: idk I think Jisung would be into this haha I hope you like it! If so consider a reblog, comment, and like ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Babe, do you think I’m needy?”

Your boyfriend Jisung had just walked through the door, screaming the question as he made his way to your bedroom. You stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body since you were fresh out of the shower. You looked at Jisung, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, a pout on his face, making his cheeks seem bigger. He had his arms crossed, as he looked at you with his big boba eyes, as he awaited your answer.

“No, of course not baby,” you replied as you walked over to your dresser, pulling out a pair of panties and a shirt.

You pulled the shirt over your head and then slid one leg and then the other through your panties, pulling them up over your hips, the band snapping in place as they settled over your ass. You wanted to tease Jisung, to prove a point. Your boyfriend thought he wasn’t needy, but that was far from the truth, especially in the bedroom. Proving your point, you heard Jisung let out a whimper, your head immediately turning to look at the man after hearing the sound.

His eyes were trained on your ass, his mouth open. Anyone would say he was enamored with the flesh, not too flat but a nice roundness to the globes, but you knew better. Yes, you know Jisung loves every part of you, but there was one thing that drove him crazy, bringing out the neediness in him. That was your panties and not just any panties, but the ones you kept that were cute more than sexy, little patterns decorated across the fabric and a little bow in the center.

You looked down and noticed what panties you had chosen this time, a smirk forming across your face. The fabric was a soft lilac with little kittens littered across them, a little pink bow on the band. Looking up, you took in how Jisung wiggled in place, his eyes never leaving your pelvis. You felt your pussy clench at the attention, his gaze turning you on.

“Mmmm,” you said, slowly walking towards your lover, “maybe you’re a little needy after all.”

Jisung was practically drooling, his mouth open, and eyes wide. You noticed the tent in his pants, watching as he let out yet another whimper.

“Wanna see more?” You teased, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

Jisung nodded his head, his hair flopping up and down obscuring his eyes. He pushed the hair out of his face and looked up at you.

“Yes, yes please,” he begged.

You giggled at his desperation before pulling your shirt up, your panties on display. You were dripping, your arousal seeping into the material. Jisung gripped your waist suddenly and yanked you toward him, burying his face in your pelvis, as he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent.

He placed kiss after kiss along your mound before dipping his head lower and darting his tongue out, the tip of the muscle brushing against your clothed clit. You jerked at the sensation, your hands gripping your shirt tighter as Jisung continued to lick the bud. You felt more slick gush into your panties as you slowly rocked your hips, fucking yourself on his tongue.

You tossed your head back, lost in the pleasure Jisung was giving you, the warm feeling spreading throughout your belly. You felt you could cum like this, the feeling close, the band expanding in your belly letting you know sweet bliss was close. But, before you could open your mouth to let him know, he pulled himself back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the material of your panties.

Jisung groaned, looking at the mess he made, the material soaked and sticking to your skin. Without warning he yanked you onto the bed and spread your legs.

“Take your shirt off baby,” he said breathlessly as he slid his sweats and boxers down, his cock springing free of its confines.

You slid your shirt up and over your head, your tits on display for the man above you. You spread your legs wider as he stepped in between them, eyes glued to your covered core, stroking his cock.

“You’re soaked baby,” he groaned, reaching out his finger to press the material of your panties to your core.

Shivering at his touch, you replied, “all for you Sungie.”

“All for me,” he whispered, grasping his cock once more to drag it through your covered folds.

You let out a moan, grasping the sheets below as he slid his cock again and again through the fabric. You were dripping, your slick soaking the panties creating a sheer effect. Each stroke of his cock slipped against your clit, the tip kissing the swollen bud over and over.

Jisung let out a strangled cry, before he shifted your panties to the side, slipping his cock beneath the material. He pressed the hard appendage down, the head slipping through your thick folds, causing a squelching sound to be heard.

“Ohh my god, babe,” Jisung moaned out as he frantically began to thrust his hips, pressing his shaft to glide through your folds. Your breath kicked up, as the pleasure increased, that sensation building up once more in your belly. You moaned out as Jisung whimpered, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on fucking your lips.

“Look at that baby,” he managed to breathe out, “your soaking, can see my cock between your cute little folds.”

You looked down, your pussy clenching at the sight. Jisung was right, your panties were soaked through, Jisung’s cock clearly visible beneath the material. You looked up at your lover, watching as he scrunched up his eyes, lost in pleasure, and guided your gaze down, your eyes landing on his pelvis and then back to your soaking pussy.

You laid back onto the sheets, a sigh leaving your lips as you focused on the warm sensation, emptying your mind as it spread throughout your body. You were floating in that space you go to every now and then, as it was quiet throughout the room, the only sounds heard were your soft moans, Jisung’s whimpers, and your wet pussy. Your reverie was broken at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, your eyes fluttering open.

“Play with your tits baby,” Jisung said.

You could tell he was close, there desperation in his eyes as he sped up his thrusts, the head of his cock hitting against your clit. You whimpered and shook your head, bringing your hands to your tits, grasping the flesh in your hands. You flicked your nipples, your eyes on Jisung as he watched you, his hips never faltering. Your moans grew louder as you squeezed and pinched your nipples, shocks of pleasures running down your spine to your core.

“I’m close Sungie,” you whined, the added sensation to your nipples causing the coil to tighten even more.

Jisung whimpered and shook his head, as his thrusts became more sporadic. “Cum with me baby,” he whined, “please, please, please,” he chanted over and over before he stilled, letting out a loud groan as his hot cum spurt onto your mound and panties.

The sight of your boyfriend’s high and the feel of his tip sliding up against your clit caused you to tip of the edge, as the coil snapped, warmth spreading throughout your body. You moaned out, pinching your nipples as you rode out your high. Jisung watched you from above, his eyes darting between your face and your little hole, watching as it clenched around nothing.

Taking a breath, you dropped your hands and reached down, sliding your finger through his cum on your pelvis before bringing it to your lips and wrapping them around the digit. You moaned as you sucked his cum off your finger, the salty taste settling on your tongue. Removing your finger from your mouth with a pop, you grinned at the boy above you.

“God I love you baby,” Jisung said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

He looked down at your panties, completely ruined from your slick and his cum.

“Aww what a shame,” Jisung said, as he pushed your panties back in place. “I actually liked this pair. Guess I’m gonna have to buy you a new pair huh.”

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92

[nariism]

letters from heaven — g. satoru

"i think i'm in love with you" + "wait, don't pull away... not yet." + oblivious pining

synopsis. love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries. that was satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens.

wc. 2.4k

— for the lovely @hanrinz 🎀 | event masterlist ✉️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If you had asked Gojo Satoru what love tasted like two years ago, he would have answered with a lump in his throat.

Like curses, he would have told you. Like death and destruction. Fire and ash. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Satoru was surrounded by love from his very conception.

Wrapped in silk blankets and bathed in warm milk when he was born into this world—it was as if the nurses thought he had been spoonfed ambrosia by the gods themselves.

He knew what it was like to have his entire clan at his feet with their foreheads pressed to the floor; to be dressed in the finest cloth and only by the most nimble hands; to get anything and everything he ever wanted without question. 

He was above everyone and had the eyes to prove it. He knew love like it was his only purpose.

Satoru was always a head in the clouds kind of guy. He understood his place in the world better than anyone else. That he was special. Gifted. Born with a blessing that only happens once in a millennium.

He hated the righteous above all. The ones who wanted to change the world that was promised to him from the moment he took his first breath. It was insulting; an act of defiance against the gods. Against him.

That is why he hated Geto Suguru—someone who wanted to change the world.

Satoru believed that he was too down to earth. It irritated him. But he never stopped being surrounded by love and never stopped loving, either.

For some reason, there was a strange comfort in standing alongside another. 

Perhaps it was that Suguru had never once bowed down before him—the fact that he had gotten the chance to memorize every inch of his beautiful face. Or maybe it was the tender way he had spoken his name, so soft and filled with adoration.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he was more than just his eyes.

Satoru adored and despised every part of Geto Suguru. He always would, even in death.

He thought that secret would die with him. That there was no one else worthy of standing by his side. He never thought he was capable of loving another again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(He was about to learn that love would loom over him wherever he went. It would chase him relentlessly, even if it were to the ends of the earth.

After all, Gojo Satoru was born to be enveloped in silk and sugar and everything wonderful in the world.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries.

That was Satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens with a misfired blast of energy. 

There was nothing particularly spectacular about you. There you were: horrified, head in your hands, crying over the phone to what he presumed to be your parents. He'd never seen someone doused in flour like you before, as if you had been plucked straight out of a cartoon.

Yet he remembers that his breath was stolen from him the way books described it.

Your very existence felt like it was built up from cubes of sugar. He was embarrassed that it was his first impression while you glared horribly at him.

The lawsuit came in the mail a few days later.

He paid, of course, without argument. And he tried to get your number afterwards because he really wanted to try that cake you were decorating before he blasted your shop to pieces.

You slapped him across the face and he let you. He even released his technique just so you could.

To your dismay, he kept showing up at the shop after it had been rebuilt. But he was a paying customer, and who were you to deny him a slice of butterscotch pie?

Still, he laughed at your ever-growing irritation with his presence. How he would preorder cakes days in advance just so you could anticipate his arrival. The way he would drop an extra five thousand yen on the counter and tell you to keep the change.

"Don't make me get a restraining order," you had once threatened him while he browsed the cupcake selection for the day.

"You wouldn't," he sang. And you didn't, because he knew your type.

You were the opposite of the one he loved most in the world. You wanted to make as little of a splash as you could—to bake pies and frost cakes with buttercream roses and wipe down your counters until they sparkled.

You knew your place in the world just as much as he knew his. And it seemed to be right behind the counter with a scowl on your face because of another poor attempt at flirting.

You didn't want to change the world. You just wanted to live in it, flour and all.

He found comfort in that, too.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Satoru became your midday companion when business slowed down. The sound of the bell strung to your front entrance brought you comfort when you were stressed about your little shop.

A part of you knew that this man was no ordinary human being. His eyes shimmered bluer than the sky when he would look at you with affection, nearly making your knees buckle beneath you on more than one occasion.

"What do you do at work?" You asked him curiously one afternoon as he sat on a stool watching you mindlessly pipe frosting.

"...Nothing important," he panicked, the thought of scaring you away when you had just started opening up to him too much for him to handle.

"Nothing important," you hummed, repeating his words until your eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

"I am," he admitted shamelessly.

You looked at him in confusion, not missing the way he avoided making eye contact by burrowing his head into his arms. Through the glass of your display case, you could see his shoulders bunch up in distress.

You decided to drop it. It wasn't important.

"Here," you said softly, reaching around the glass separating you to place a dessert in front of him. "Don't worry about it."

Satoru gazed at the plate before him. Chocolate ganache and strawberries layered between sponge cake.

"This is for me?" He asked, poking at it with the fork as a grin split his cheeks.

"Just for you," you smiled. "As an apology for slapping you."

"I deserved it. I blew up your shop."

Your smile only deepened. "Sometimes things need to be destroyed to be rebuilt even better."

The strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer of his time was reduced to a puddle at your next words,

"I met you, after all. Didn't I?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Love tastes like champagne-raspberry truffles and cappuccino chocolates.

On the day he planned to confess, you unconvincingly glared at him as he approached you with his hands behind his back.

You pursed your lips, expecting him to demand you make him something out of season. Outlandish requests were not new from him, but you always managed to whip up something that had fruits imported from South America, or using that expensive hojicha he insisted you take off his hands.

Instead, he held out a box of lavish chocolates he bought in Belgium.

Nervousness replaced the confidence that was permanently etched into his every feature, and your expression melted into something mellower than the warmth simmering in the pit of Satoru's tummy.

He had been pining for you for months. There was something about your company that made him feel whole again—more whole than he had been in all the time since Geto Suguru left this earth.

You laughed as if it were a joke, using your palm to hide how you flushed slightly.

"Satoru..." You quirked a brow. "What's this?"

The way you said his name stuck arrows through his heart. You could act like you hated him all you wanted, but the way you smiled at him when he wasn't being a prick was enough for him to feel comforted.

"Chocolates from Europe," he straightened up, trying to shake off his nerves.

"Why?"

Why? His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth and he sucked on it in anxious thought, suddenly unsure of the right thing to say even though he had practiced all night.

Wasn't it obvious that he liked you?

You took the box from his hands and placed it down on the counter. Then you rounded it, picked up your spatula, and continued folding your meringue.

Satoru's silence made you glance back up, scrutinizing his downcast, troubled expression. You huffed through your nose with an exasperated little shake of the head.

"Save some nice things for yourself, too."

He was surprised when you reappeared in front of him. His eyes trailed from your sneakers, up your dirty apron to your smiling face.

Chocolate was melting between your fingers.

His grunts of protest were muffled as you stuck the treat against his lips, forcing it into his mouth. He glared at you, but ate it anyway.

Sugar coated his tongue and eased his nerves. You only laughed at his fluster.

He pinched your cheek.

You didn't know that Satoru already had everything else he ever needed. The only thing left was standing right in front of him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Love is easy to taste when it's on your lips.

At least, that was the thought driving Satoru insane.

He didn't know when such an obsessive idea started plaguing him, or how to remedy it. For the first time in his life, he felt like a boy with a silly, childish crush.

Worst of all, you seemed none the wiser. All his attempts to make a move on you fell flat—though, he wasn't very good at following through with them in the first place.

It culminated in his final attempt to rid the terrible thought from his mind: he was going to avoid you at all costs until it blew over.

If he could just have the time to get over you, to move on from his feelings, he could probably act with some normalcy around you again. It was tiresome to tread on eggshells around you, even if you were blissfully unaware of it.

You, however, did not take his avoidance very well. He did not see that coming.

Satoru's phone rang at 3:24 am, well past your store hours. In fact, you were supposed to be waking up in another hour and a half to get all your prep done.

"Hello?" Your timid voice crackled through the static of his phone and he jolted upright, fisting his blanket in anticipation. "Satoru? Are you up?"

He swallowed thickly, mouth moving to formulate an answer with a strange amount of effort. "Yeah," he said, voice hoarse from sleep.

The other end of the line was silent for another moment before there was a loud crash, and he could make out the distinct clatter of metal bowls hitting tile.

He could imagine you standing there in defeat, surrounded by dirty dishes and drowning in work, trying to catch up for the next morning.

The thought was enough for him to rip out of his sheets, a flurry of limbs as he got dressed to find you.

"Hang on," he told you over the phone, then hung up.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had not anticipated that Satoru's very obvious avoidance would take such a toll on you.

You'd let it escalate until you were overwhelmed with emotion, unfocused at work, and not able to untangle the feelings you had for him.

And now he was standing in your shop again, helping you pick up everything you had clumsily scattered across the ground.

Whipped cream and icing spilled on the floor, painting the tile an array of pastel colours. You grimaced at the mess, thinking maybe you should just close the shop for the day and take a vacation.

Satoru was dutifully wiping up cream as if he were being paid to do it. But he wasn't—he was just too kind to you. Too generous. You desperately wished he would get mad at you for waking him in the middle of the night.

Instead, he only seemed concentrated and slightly concerned.

"That's enough," you told him quietly, standing up to discard the towels you used. "I'll clean up the rest tomorrow."

Satoru stood up with you, trying to decipher the doomstruck expression on your face.

"I'll come by tomorrow to help."

You shook your head. "It's okay, you've done so much already. Thank you."

Everything about him had grown so familiar, so warm. You missed him more than you cared to admit, and that scared you. In the three weeks since you had last seen him, it finally came crashing down on you.

You liked Satoru.

The thought was heady and overwhelming in your mind. You stumbled a bit and he caught you by the shoulders.

"Woah there," he chuckled lightly, finally able to make out the look in your eyes.

"Sato—" your lip wobbled and he stopped it with his thumb. Then, he used his fingers to clean up the icing decorating your face.

"I got you."

He snorted softly at your dazed expression, drawing away from you. Your hands shot up to grasp at him, keeping him in your bubble. 

"Please don't pull away."

Satoru stilled, letting you drag him back into your personal space. "M'not going anywhere."

You weakly punched him in the chest, fist remaining there for a moment before you let it fall limp. Glaring at him, you sniffled.

"You're avoiding me."

"I was," he admitted.

"What happened?"

"I realized that I liked you a lot more than I thought."

Silence hugged your bodies, heavy and stiff. You blinked at him in surprise, having trouble processing his words.

"H-Huh?"

"I like you," he said again, more adamant. More confident.

"Oh," you breathed. Heat enveloped Satoru's heart at how relieved you sounded. "That makes me..."

Your face morphed from relief to realization. Realization of the situation, of how close your bodies were.

"Really happy," you concluded, squeezing your eyes shut as his hands adjusted to cup your face a little more intimately.

He kissed the apple of your cheek, making sure not to skip over the spot where icing lingered.

The thought entered his mind: I am exactly where I need to be.

Gojo Satoru was born to be loved. It tastes like maple buttercream. And it's spilled all over the floor, stained on his hands and knees. Between his fingers. Melting on his tongue.