#and every day i consider never opening this website ever again
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why do i bother with desktop anymore
#the heron speaketh#im accosted with netflix ads that make me slow down my phone to the point of uselessness so i log on to desktop#and every day i consider never opening this website ever again#why is there a pirate clown. how do i get rid of him. what if i deleted my account forever
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caught in 4k ♡
↬ request from anon ; I love your writing for blue lock and i was wondering if you could write a Rin x actress reader when they're adults and they get caught by the media somehow. ↬ notes ; itoshi rin x gn reader ↬ from ice ; pretends like i haven't been gone for months... anyways here's my grand comeback that literally no one asked for but this req was so cute i rlly wanted to write it 🥹 hope u enjoy ! ↬ warning(s) ; none
please reblog w comments ! it helps a lot :)
itoshi rin has always been a private person. he rarely shares anecdotes from his life with his friends, let alone the paparazzi. his fans constantly complain that they're starved for content, because despite the fact that he's one of the most famous football players in the world, he somehow manages to keep his schedule entirely under wraps and often downright refuses to do interviews. (the only way to get him on camera is to invite him for a joint interview with sae.)
his tendency to keep his personal life a secret is exactly why it comes as such a shock when it's revealed that he's dating you.
actually, 'revealed' is the wrong word to use when in reality, the both of you were spotted leaving a popular restaurant together by a pesky journalist. he snapped pictures of rin holding your hand, offering you his jacket, opening the car door for you... and the next morning they were all over the internet, splashed across the front page of all the major news websites. #itoshi rin is in a relationship?! was the number one trending topic for days.
the amount of attention showered upon the two of you is actually unsurprising, considering how you've been at the peak of fame ever since you recently took on a role that went viral. pair that with the fact that you're dating the most mysterious football player? it's a miracle they didn't hear about it in space! both your fanbases were gushing about how adorable you are together and they're always eager for crumbs of interaction between you two in public.
in private, rin groans and grumbles about how annoying it is to have a spotlight shining on your dating life, but he's secretly happy that you both don't have to hide your relationship anymore now that it's out in the open. he likes the idea that everyone knows he's yours, and you're his.
in public, he's as aloof and cold as ever to every enthusiastic interviewer that dares cross his path. the only time he visibly softens is when they mention you, and a hint of a smile will curve his lips. rin gets angry if they even imply that you're leeching off his fame, or you're a gold-digger, or you're trying to get close to his brother through him - he never fails to set the record straight immediately. the two of you love each other, and maybe these journalists' time would be better spent trying to find someone to love them instead of trying to ruin someone else's relationship. (his pr manager is at her wits' end).
overall, rin is not too bothered by the fact that your relationship ended up becoming public knowledge. of course he would have preferred it to be on both of your terms, but now that it's happened he just rolls with it. as long as you're happy, he's happy.
help i swear i'll be active now HAHAHA i won't disappear for a year again ,,, and btw i cannot believe my last post was over a year ago tf
✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠 © icypopz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way.
#[ my writing — ! ]#[ blue lock — ! ]#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#blue lock fluff#itoshi rin fluff#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin#blue lock
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Hello I was wondering if you’d be able to write a Ranboo x Gender neutral reader, and they both just got into a heated argument that left them both crying (only if you’re comfortable with writing something like this, I’d not I completely understand, also thank you for your concern, I really appreciate it) :)
honestly struggled to find smthn to make an argument out of but I think I got something! oneshots are a little difficult for me bc I get burned out and I think the actions but can't find the right words LMAOOOO ; but this is totally find to request dw!! and of course, if you ever need to talk my messages are always open 🫶🫶🫶 ; also istg I have other ranboo headers they're just in my drafts bc I've only been working on reqs lately LMFAO
RANBOO ; burnout
summary ; youre both burned out and stressed, and take it out on each other
warnings ; language, fighting, reader is described/talked about as a writer, angry mischaracterization (it makes sense in context trust me)
word count ; 1.4k
masterlist
Both you and Ranboo had been working your asses off recently.
They had themselves so tied down to content creation that it was becoming a personal prison cell. It was like everything he did was only to appease his fans, and he didn't know how to just calm down and slow things down for his well being. From the constant, long streams to the talks with merch and production teams, it never ended. Plus, the infinite cycle of scrolling online to see all the hate they received, it was becoming too much.
You, on the other hand, constantly kept working and working through the lack of motivation and burnout with no breaks. No matter how much people reassured you that you could take a break and you didn't have to stick to a schedule, it didn't do anything. You were determined to fill out each and every request even if you barely had any idea what you were doing, you'd stay up late trying to block out what to write and how to put it into words to appease your followers. Three times a day, seven days a week, every day of the month, about 2000 posts a year, if you kept that up.
You were dedicated to writing, you loved it, and you loved that you were able to turn something you loved into a job considering "real" jobs didn't work out for you. You had streaming, but you only did that if you were writing or needed ideas or help every once in a while and wanted to share any progress and whatnot. Your eyes tended to be bloodshot on the regular, being pulled down by saggy, dark eyebags.
You trudge into the kitchen, taking a cold bowl of mac and cheese and some water back to your office with you. Ranboo glares at you from the couch, holding his phone to his ear as he talks to some big guy with money, most likely. He doesn't say anything, but you notice the look on his face, his eyes glaring daggers into you as you walk away.
You sit back down at your chair, not even touching your food. You stare at the screen, your eyes slightly protected by the dark mode you'd reinforced on the website. Your mind was blank, empty, vacant, muddled. There were no thoughts behind your glazed eyes.
Your head pounded in pain, caused by all the blue light absorption you'd been taking in recently. God, Ran hated that. How you'd fucking complain of a headache and only do everything to worsen it. It pissed him off. It made him want to yell at you to just shut up about it, considering you didn't want to do anything to help yourself.
You type away at the keyboard once more, every button press causing a little click or clack to immerse from it. The keys light up a particular shade of white, a smooth wave like pattern glazing across it once more. You stop again, unable to finish the sentence once more.
You groan and lean back in your seat, feeling the utter disgust around you. You oh so desperately needed to sit in the shower and cry, considering your stress and pain, but you couldn't. You needed to make these people happy, you owed them. You owed them for giving you a stable job and a roof over your head, the least you could do was have their requests out within a few days.
You sit and ponder about your partner. You were sure there was no love left anymore. Both of you were too financially dependent on one another to up and leave, so it had to work for now.
Ranboo, now not on the phone, nearly slams the door of your office open, smelling the ice cold pasta you hadn't even touched a few feet away. He's quick to raise his voice with a stern tone, pissed off at you once again.
"Dude, I told you dinner was ready an hour ago, what the fuck? And then you just bring it in here and don't even touch it just to stare at the damn screen some more? Are you fucking kidding?"
You roll your eyes, not wanting to deal with this again. "Fuck's it matter? This is my job, Ranboo"
"Your job isn't to please everyone who acts nice to you. Your job is to write quality content and not complain about burning yourself out or headaches that you could easily solve by touching grass! Go outside, this isn't even a job. You don't do anything other than write some stupid fantasy all day and feed into people's delusions, Y/n!" He quickly rants, scoffing at the end.
"Holy shit, you're one to talk! Meh meh, meh, I'm so miserable, and I do all these long streams for my fans, and I treat my partner like shit because I never spend time with them and enable their unhealthy behaviors! I take out my anger on them because I'm a lonely asshole." You quickly spit back, standing up from your chair.
They scoff, stepping towards you a bit, "You're so pathetic, I never want to hear you come to me with your problems again. You're dependent on me. You barely get any money off of that, let alone any to pay rent or buy your own groceries. Get into the real world where talking to fancy businessmen and actually working for your money is all you do! Walk in my shoes for one day!"
You roll your eyes again and scoff, "You don't think this is an actual job? I could say the same to you! You play video games all fucking day and beg for Twitch subs! Just because you have a fancy merch line and have some stupid show you're working on doesn't make you all high and mighty and more important than anyone else!"
"It does, actually, you have no room to complain! If you need a break, you can go take it. My schedule is busy every hour of the day, I have no time to do shit! You're an overbearing, selfish asshole!"
Now that got the waterworks going, that's what got you beyond the point of just petty arguing to genuinely fighting. You have no room to complain, yet you spend all day just trying to make people happy and not hate you, to just pump content out and pretend like you're okay. You bottle up your emotions so he won't have to worry about you, yet you're overbearing and selfish.
"You are such a fucking asshole! Everything needs to be about you, doesn't it? Every single fucking thing in the world, huh? Fine, screw you" You turn to grab the bowl of food, and quickly, out of sheer anger, throw it at him, shattering the ceramic bowl. "I hope I never see you again, go fuck yourself. You don't deserve shit of what you have, your platform, your friends, your money, anything. I hope your whole online empire comes crumbling down and you're left with nothing"
You snatch up your phone, wallet, and keys, quickly stomping past him as tears drip down your cheeks. He stands there, appalled as tears well in his glassy eyes. He tries to chase you outside once he realizes you're serious, but you'd already slammed the door so hard it might as well have fallen off the hinges. He wipes his eyes, cheeks a light red due to the sheer amount of anger he felt in the moment. He was soaked in cold mac and cheese, ruining his white hoodie.
Once the adrenaline wasn't coursing through his veins anymore, he sits himself on the kitchen floor, the cold tile against his hands being used as a grounding technique. Some ceramic dust lays on his shoes, some liquid cheese being smeared against his hoodie as he tries to use a towel to wipe the access off.
Fuck, what did he just do?
He sits in silence, rethinking the situation as tears slowly stream down his face.
He could only hope that you were safe on that bus to nowhere. That bus you used to just go anywhere but home, just to escape the horrible life you lived inside that house. The house that bound you to its walls so you couldn't escape.
You couldn't escape the pain of your popular online presence or the pain of being trapped in that house any longer. Finally, it broke, the enchantment that kept you sealed inside.
Someone had to leave, and it looked like it was going to be you this time around.
#lowkeyrobin#mcyt x reader#mcyt preferences#mcyt oneshot#tommyinnit x reader#ranboo x reader#tubbo x reader#ranboo oneshot#ranboo imagine#gn reader#gender neutral reader#they/them reader
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♡TEDDY BEAR♡
I looked up at the tv, a commercial broadcasting across the country about building yourself a walking, talking, teddy bear! Of course with different models. Their supposed to be life sized, as you make your order on the website, your able to set customized designs. Of course these aren't actually teddy bears, but they're like humanoid robots, their structure and features supposed to resemble a humans exactly, not a flaw, all for comfort, they adore you, and would basically do anything for you.
"Get your own teddy bear and build a friend for yourself today! Hop on down to our website listed here! And if your not satisfied, send em back in in the first 30 days and you get a full refund!"
Everyone from my highschool had grown apart, some started working for hero companies, some traveled to different countries, and a few of us got married. All of us had our own lives, but me being quirkless, and a bad breakup with a certain duel quirked hero, had been cooped up in my apartment for almost a month.
I have no friends so I dont have a certain reason to go out, I work at home too, so I only leave the house for groceries and supplies.
'Hey, (y/n), I'm sending you a special package, think of it as a gift, considering I'm in America, as an apology' I questioned Mina's message, but I soon succumbed to sleep on my desk in no time.
"DELIVERY"
I jumped in my chair as pain flooded my back, neck and face.
"Oh jeez... I'm only 26..."
Walking over to the door i look through the peep hole to see a girl in a delivery outfit.
""Hello! I'm here to drop off a package to ms. 'Y/n) (l/n)" she smiled, her sharp white canines almost seemed scary if it weren't for her relaxed yet energetic demeanor.
"Thats me..."
I signed the papers as the girl before me made small talk.
"I heard these are quite popular, I hope to get one someday, but thats not going to be anytime soon, if we meet again, tell me how it is! Bye!" She slowly placed the box in my livingroom and walked outside, closing the door behind her with a mischievous smile.
I looked back at the giant rectangular box, a light grunt coming from it before it fell over.
"MINA?!" I opened the box and was met with a blonde boy with crimson eyes sitting crossed-legged and covered in clothes "Are-are you okay?"
Without a word he held out his hand. Confused, I took it and was pulled into the box.
"Hey..." his voice was gruff as he hugged me tightly, sending butterflies throughout my stomache.
"I...I... do I know you?" I pulled away.
In reply he gave me a questioned yet hurt look.
"One sec, let me call Mina"
I stood up smiling awkwardly, walking towards the hallway dialing Mina's number.
"Hey (y/n)!" Her chirpy voice through the phone.
"who the hell is this guy?!"
"Do you like him?? I ordered him specifically for you! His name is Katsuki bakugou!"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ORDERED-... oh my gosh, is he a-"
"Teddy bear!"
"WHAT?!"
"Well ever since you and shoto broke up, I've been really worried about you, you never really leave your house, so I'm hoping Bakugou can help you get better, make you happy since I can't be there physically for you"
"Thanks Mina... it means a lot... your the best"
"Yeah I am! Also, take good care of him! I paid extra money for him to be the way how he is! See ya love ya" she didn't even let me reply before she hung up... well thats Mina for you.
"Is everything okay?" I snapped my head to the side to see katsuki leaning against the wall.
"Yeah... so... let's get your stuff unpacked!"
We were both finishing folding all his clothes up on the couch, it was around 12 now, its the weekend so I don't really have any work to do, since I never had anything to do since me and my ex broke up... I've just focused on working.
"Hey, im done getting dressed" warm hands slithered gently on the skin of my stomache as he hugged me from behind, resting his head on my shoulder.
"Hey" I hummed quietly, still getting used to receiving affection frequently every now and then, it didn't feel bad, it was actually quite comforting "so, I dont have anywhere for you to put your stuff, but we'll work that out, but I'm not too sure on where you'll be sleeping considering my place isn't big"
"Won't I be sleeping with you??" I turned around, my gaze immediately fixating on his crimson eyes.
"With me?"
"Well I am your teddy bear" his body language was that of a pouting child, but his figure was not childlike at all.
"I-I guess so?? Okay then.. first off, lets get some lunch"
I got up to go to the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" I turned around to see katsuki already at the door.
"I was going to get started on the Ramen..."
"Lets go out, this place is stuffy as hell..."
I kinda got used to this so it didn't really bother me, I never thought it would make anyone else uncomfortable though.
"Okay, lets go" I had quickly grabbed my shoes, keys and was about to grab my wallet but my hand was slapped away.
"I'll pay"
"But you dont-!"
"Mina gave me some money to treat you" he lifted his hand to reveal a thick wad of cash.
My jaw dropped at the sight.
"Now let's go" he grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me outside.
The walk was quiet, but awkward, did he feel awkward? He didn't let go of my hand while we walked the streets, or seemed bothered at all.
I opened my mouth to break the silence but was interrupted.
"Pro hero Shoto has saved the day once again! With his duel quirks, he's prepared for anything!" I looked ahead and was greeted with the one person I wanted to see the least.
"You know him?" I looked up at katsukis words.
"Yeah... he's my ex boyfriend... we used to date, up until a rumor started circulating around saying him and another pro were a thing, and then he left me for her" I smiled lightly at the ground, a bitter taste in my mouth as I remembered the events.
"Tch, he looks like he's full of it" I stiffled a laugh as katsuki mocked my ex.
》3rd pov《
Katsuki noticed how your mood improved when he made a remark about the pro.
"That half and half bastard must have his head too far up his ass to ditch you" he smirked, looking at your face through the corner of his eye to watch your reaction.
Your smile was beautiful, like dazzling diamonds. Your laugh like the best masterpiece of music made by the gods. He wanted more.
"He must be messed up in the head or something" you laughter only fueled his behavior.
"Who must be messed up in the head?" Your giggles stopped when you two realized who spoke in front of you.
A tall man with white hair on one side of his head which opposed the red half, stood in front of the two.
"Sho- todoroki! We were just-"
"We were talking about you, dickwad" katsuki cut you off and glared at the guy.
You could feel a drop of sweat make itself down the side of your face as you felt the awkward tension rise.
Todoroki turned to you "Who is he?"
"He's... my... " you looked at katsuki and panicked "my boyfriend!"
Todoroki looked somewhat shocked, as did katsuki who quickly shrugged it off and played along.
"Your... boyfriend?" Todoroki couldn't grasp the situation properly.
"Yeah, whats it to you" katsuki slung his arm over your shoulder as your face heated up.
"I just... nothing... " Todoroki turned to you "I'd like to have a talk with you, privately"
You gave him a confused look "I'm not going anywhere with you, there's nothing to talk about between us" you grabbed katsuki's hand and started walking away.
Todoroki watched as you and the blonde walked away down the sidewalk, unable to tear his eyes off "there is a lot to talk about between us" he mumbled before turning his attention back at the paparazzi that had surrounded the 3.
"I swear, if he wasn't a pro, I would've punched him right then and there! Like- who does he think he is to just ask to 'talk'?! HE'S the one who broke up with ME" you were still pulling katsuki along by the hand as you ranted to no one in particular.
Katsuki stopped you and pulled you into a hug, gently combing his fingers through your hair "calm down, your blood pressure is rising, stress isn't good for the body or the mind, relax"
You were so angry you didn't even realize you were practically running, face red and hands balled in fists.
You took a moment to breathe, relaxing at the scent of burnt caramel "thanks" you looked up at katsuki and smiled.
"Thats... what I'm for" he replied, but it sounded more like a question.
"Come on! I know this great place!" You grabbed his hand again and walked down the streets to get something to eat, and a few groceries that weren't Ramen noodles.
You and katsuki had a lot of fun, the day went by fast and next thing you know, its time for bed.
"When are you coming to bed?" Katsuki huffed.
You were slouched at your computer, back towards him as you worked on a work assignment "I still have to finish a few more pages before Wednesday, I'll should be there in about an hour or so" you mumbled.
"Its already 12:40!" Katsuki pretty much screeched.
"Only 12:40? Wow, thats the first" you looked at the time and mumbled again.
Katsuki walked up to you, saved the papers and turned the computer off before picking you up bridal style, carrying you to the bedroom, plopping you down, before tucking you in.
"My work!" You thought of wiggling out, but the blankets were warm, and the air was cold, all the days you haven't had proper sleep, all the fatigue started catching up to you, and next thing you know, your passed out.
Your snores were heard beside katsuki in seconds.
"Boyfriend, huh?" He questioned, looking down at you, gently caressing your cheek "if thats what you want, then i have no objections"
》time skip a few months later《
"(Y/n)! Dinner is ready!" Katsuki called from the kitchen in his pink bunny apron.
You two have gotten a lot closer since then, he does the house work, and you earn the money, it really did feel like you two were a couple, but that had gone unspoken about since the incident with Todoroki.
You snuck up from behind him and hugged him, nuzzling your face into his back making him go stiff as he held back a laugh.
"What did you make?" You were getting ready for a business trip to hosu city, your coworkers voted you to go for it since they were all antisocial and you actually had someone to go with. You were exhausted, but the bags were packed.
"I made miso soup with yakimeshi and yakitori"
You looked down at the foods. Katsuki had always been great at cooking, you weren't sure how he knew or where he learned it from but you didn't mind it at all.
You set up the table and you both began to eat.
He always looked calm and peaceful as he ate, thank goodness the teddy bears run off of food instead of gas or something, otherwise you'd probably be broke.
Your eating was disrupted as a knock sounded from the door. Katsuki began to stand up but you waved him off as you were closer to the door anyways.
"Hello-" you were met with a pair of blue and grey heterochromic eyes.
"You haven't been replying to my text messages so I thought I'd finally come check if you still lived here" his words were a bit slurred as his cheeks were dusted pink. His suit was wrinkled and he wreaked of alcohol "I really missed you, (y/n)" he stumbled inside and draped his self on you, making you yelp at the sudden weight on you as he tried to kiss you.
"I blocked you months ago" you pushed his face away, but his hold on your waist didn't waver.
"(Y/n)? Is something wrong?" Katsuki walked in and froze in the hallway.
Todoroki glared at the blonde as he held you close "hes still here?"
"Well he IS my boyfriend!" You tried wiggling out as the two continued to glare at eachother.
"Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her. NOW" katsuki was pissed, and that was an understatement.
Katsuki walked towards you and tried to pry the duel quirked hero off of you.
"Let go! She loves me! We were just on a rough patch!" Todoroki growled, his grip tightening on you as his quirks started activating slowly, one arm starting to get lightly coated with ice while the other started heating up.
"Like hell you were! She was broken hearted! You left her, for some dumb bitch!" Katsuki growled, his hands creating little sparks from his mimic quirk.
You screamed as todoroki's quirk finally let loose, burning one arm and freezing the other.
Todoroki let go in a flash, pain evident in his eyes as katsuki caught you, your legs giving out as you sobbed in pain.
Katsuki cooed comforting words, his hands hovering over you, not wanting to put you in more pain. He looked up at the guy who caused this and growled "get the fuck out of our house" before pushing him out and locking the door.
Katsuki quickly started tending to your burns, one frost and one just a plain fire burn. Eventually you fell asleep after the pain subsided.
The next day katsuki tried talking you out of going to hosu with your fresh marks, but all you did was get your boss to postpone it, just until your arm was able to move more, knowing none of your coworkers would do anything.
"You need to rest" katsuki insisted, gently nudging you into the bedroom.
"I'm just getting a glass of water" you giggled.
"I could've gotten it for you" katsuki gently pushed you aside to fill the glass.
"Its been 3 days, come on" you laughed.
"3 days isn't enough, an average human takes weeks to recover properly from something like that"
You watched as katsuki worked lately "katsuki, thank you for taking care of me, I never knew how much I needed you"
As soon as you finished your sentence, katsuki stopped his movements.
"Us teddy bears, can develope different characteristics, and emotions, just like a human, to better understand the human population... we... I am always at your command no matter what" he looked at you, now fully faced towards you "I... am yours... yours alone"
What did he mean by this?
"I'm sorry to say this to you, but you can send me back to the company and scrap me, get replaced by a different one, but I love you, (y/n)"
You stood still.
"Like in the way, that you once loved that half and half bastard" he mumbled, handing you the glass.
"I don't know how to respond to this katsuki..."
"Then don't, im at ease now that you know, just being able to be beside you is enough" he cupped the side of your face "but I am just a robot after all in the end"
That night you couldn't sleep.
What did you feel towards katsuki? Lately you two had been living like a couple, every moment was blissful, almost like a dream.
Next thing you know, weeks had passed and you were on your way to hosu, the train had stopped at around 7pm, the meeting was tomorrow.
Katsuki never brought the topic up, or bugged for an answer... its like it never happened.
"I'm pretty sure the hotel is this way" you sighed, tired of walking already.
Katsuki was carrying both of the bags as you navigated through the empty streets.
"(Y/n)" you turned your head to see a figure approaching.
"What do you want, motherfucker" katsuki growled, his crimson eyes seemingly glowing.
When the man finally stepped into the street light, you recognized his heterochromic eyes immediately.
"Quiet, Dog" Todoroki snapped "the adults are talking"
"Dont you talk to katsuki like that!" You snapped, stepping in front of him, protectively.
"(Y/n), kitten, how much longer are we gonna fight? Its tearing me apart" Todoroki ignored your statement and started walking towards you, pain very evident in his eyes "cant you see how much you need me?"
"I don't need you, and I dont care what this is doing to you" you grimaced in disgust.
"Its because of him, isn't it?" Todoroki focused his eyes at katsuki who now had the bags on the ground "what do you think the media will think of you dating a villain?"
Your mind was struck with confusion. Just what was he getting at?
"What do you mean, asshole?" Katsuki now stood beside you.
"Pro hero Shoto, takes down villain and his lover, who was deceived so hurtfully" shoto got his stance ready "officer I just happened to be in the neighborhood when I seen this suspect of a recent murder walking down the street with this nice lady, and when I walked up to confront him, he attacked, inevitably leading to this poor souls death"
"Leave us alone Todoroki!" You almost cried from fear "this is illegal, I'll tell the police!"
"Darling, you forget about Stockholm syndrom"
"Get over here you bastard!" Katsuki barked, throwing his first punch at the pro.
Todoroki dodged, grabbing his wrist and burning it.
By the time the smoke had cleared, shoto had seen katsuki's circuits exposed, smoking ever so slightly.
"Your a-"
"A robot, yeah, I know, but at least I'm able to notice her worth before anything else, you scum" katsuki snarled, a smile on his face.
Todoroki sent a streak of ice aiming at the blonde.
"Shut your mouth!" He yelled, "you have no idea what your talking about!"
Katsuki barely managed to dodge the attack.
"Your just programed to love her!" Todoroki smiled crazily.
"No" katsuki stood up, the skin around his eye was ripped off as sparks flew off of him "I was programed to take care of her needs. Feed her. Keep her healthy. But I was never programed to love her... not like I do now"
"Your such a load of bullshit" Todoroki growled "Just come here (y/n)!" Todoroki reached for you.
Next thing you know he goes flying to the side by a blast.
You look where it came from and seen Katsuki with his hand outstretched, with his other hand in a circle.
"Protocol AP shot... leave. or i will call the police" Katsuki's voice never sounded more powerful.
"You think they'll listen to a robot? I'm a human, nonetheless the number 2 hero-"
"I have footage that is already downloaded onto the motherboard of you threatening to kill, someone who you thought was a human, without hesitation"
Todoroki glared at the busted open robot before fleeing the scene.
Katsuki smirked before falling to his knees.
"System failure. leakage of fluid and damaged parts are detected" Katsuki's voice sounded robotic as he spoke.
"Katsuki!" You ran to his side, getting onto your knees to examine what was wrong and how you could fix it "why would you do that?!"
Tears blurred your vision.
"You know why, (y/n)" he cupped your cheek, forcing you to look into his eyes.
His usually warm hands were now very cold and metallic against your skin.
"You... love me?" You managed to whisper.
He nodded "I'm sorry, but now you're sure to get a free replacement or something, or even money back"
You sobbed into his neck "dont go... please, your all i have"
"I'm sorry (y/n)-n)... but m-my body-y-y-y is t-too damaged" his voice malfunctioned.
"I cant say goodbye" you looked into his eyes, his face cold in your hands.
"You dont have to... I'm already-y gone" he smiled before his face fell limp and his red eyes turned grey.
You screamed in sadness, not knowing who to call.
》time skip, its now Christmas《
"Merry Christmas (y/n)!" Mina yelled, walking through the doorway of your house.
As soon as Mina opened her eyes she was met with a dark room, save for the computer screen. Clothes were piled on the floor, Ramen noodle cups were in heaps in your small waste bin.
"This place is a mess!" Mina sighed. Walking over to you.
"Its not that bad" you sighed, bags under your eyes.
"I know you've been very distraught since katsuki..." her voice trailed off before continuing "but you need to take better care of yourself!"
You looked up at the pink girl, tears in your eyes at the mention of his name "Whats the point?"
Mina sighed, placing a bag in the corner of your room before walking towards the door "I'll be back in a few days, I have patrol tonight, see you" Mina smiled before walking out the door.
You were alone again... no Mina... no katsuki... just you and and empty bed...
Why would this happen? He meant everything to you...
The sounds of knocking on your door brought you attention away from the blonde man.
"Delivery!" A familiar voice sounded from the front door.
"Coming..." you dragged your feet on the floor, cracking the door open.
"Delivery to (y/n) (l/n)" she handed you a small box.
You signed the papers and brang the box inside, placing it onto the table.
You started crying... she was the one who brang katsuki...
.
.
.
"(Y/n)! I placed your Christmas gift under the tree, I gotta go, a villain was spotted near xxxx, love ya!"
You opened your eyes after you heard the front door close.
Whats the point of Christmas? No ones here, no decorations accept the tree in the corner of your livingroom.
Under the tree were several gifts. Dozens of small ones, and a couple of big ones.
"Lets start with this one" you opened the box that was pretty small. Opening it to see a note and a ruby necklace.
'Dear (y/n), merry Christmas, I'm very happy that you accepted me as your teddy bear. Every day, you made life seem so amazing and I'm glad I can experience it with you.
-Katsuki
You put it on, smiled at it before continuing with the presents. Each gift from katsuki, making you smile, some were cute, some were edgy, and some were funny... he really knew you.
Time for the last one, it was the biggest but it wasn't nearly as tall as the tree.
You didn't need to check the tag to know it was from katsuki.
"What did you get me thats this big, you dummy?" You mumbled, slightly excited.
You opened the box.
You were barely able to comprehend anything.
There sitting on his knees, was katsuki bakugou, his eyes closed and posture straight.
"Katsuki?" Your voice came out as a whisper, tears stinging your eyes.
As soon as he heard your voice, he opened his eyes to see you.
"(Y/n)-"
Before he could finish the first word of his sentence, you tackled him with a hug, tears streaming down your face.
"I Love you too!"
He smiled, hugging you back ever so tightly "thank you".
#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#mha fanfiction#au#angst??#romance#my hero academia#mha bakugo katsuki#mha
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Chapter 4, Part 3 of Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me
QAF AU, Brian x Justin, Asexual Spectrum Representation, Series Retelling
As always, my biggest cheerleaders deserve a shout-out: @winderlylandchime @maryp50 and @lostcol
Once they’d settled into their new agreement, Justin seemed much happier, and their conversations returned. Brian felt bad that he had let his ego get in the way of being true to his heart. He really did love having Justin around; it made him feel like he wasn’t going to disappear one day. Brian didn’t ever talk about it with his Liberty Avenue family, but ever since he was a kid, he worried that if someone didn’t appreciate him as he was, he would just stop existing someday. Before Justin, he drank and did drugs as often as he did because it helped him forget his constant worry of not actually being alive.
Brian would never say it out loud to Deb or Michael, or hell, even Ted, but he was actually grateful that Justin insisted they set ground rules for their relationship. He’d always been willing to respect what Justin did or didn’t want from him. So having set in stone boundaries would help him to keep his head on straight without messing up the one good thing going for him. Being a partner at Vanguard was nice and all, but it didn’t spark joy, as Emmett liked to say, in his life. Justin did, no matter how deeply he kept that knowledge hidden under the surface.
Speaking of Emmett, Brian looked up from his computer to find Cynthia approaching his office with Emmett trailing behind her. Brian shook his head at how out of place Emmett looked. His close friend was wearing a pretty tame outfit today, compared to what he normally wore, but his lavender button-down open revealing a dark purple tank underneath was far from what anyone Brian worked with would wear. Even Emmett’s pants made it no secret he was homosexual. After all, no hetero schmuck would be caught dead wearing brown pants that flared at the bottom.
“Hello, Honeycutt,” Brian smirked at the younger man, his eyes alight with mischief.
“Thank you for escorting him, Cyn. Please close the door.”
“Why? Everyone already saw him. You know the rumors are already flying. I’d place big money that most of the art department probably thinks you pay him for sex.”
“I resent that!” Emmett placed a hand on his chest in shock. “I would never.”
“Trust me, Cyn. He means he would never have sex with me, not even for money. He already flaunts his stuff for money on Theodore’s website.” Brian waggled his eyebrows, and Cynthia shook her head with a smile before closing the office door behind her.
Brian waited a beat before he turned to Emmett, who had now sprawled himself into one of Brian’s office chairs.
“So, Em, what brings you here during office hours.” Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek.
“Do you always insist on shocking the straights?” Emmett looked toward the closed door where Brian’s coworkers couldn’t hear what was being said, but the Brunette was acting as though they could.
“I consider it my biggest joy in life.”
“I would’ve thought that moniker was reserved for Justin.” Emmett gave Brian a knowing look. “Don’t worry. I’m not still mad at you, though I do think you were an asshole for doing it.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” Brian sighed, “Again, I ask, what brings you here.” He didn’t really have time to mess around playing Emmett’s game of being coy. Remson Pharmaceuticals would be arriving this afternoon expecting the perfect ad copy, which was still being finalized, causing Brian a headache.
“So, I met someone.” Emmett smiled and clapped his hands excitedly.
“How is this different from every other day that ends in Y?” Brian looked Emmett up and down, only to discover there was something different about this new guy in Emmett’s life.
“We met because he saw me online and reached out.” Emmett started, and Brian cut him off with a sigh.
“Em! Don’t be stupid. That’s a recipe for disaster or something far worse.”
“Hush. If you’d let me finish, you would know that the man is none other than George Schickle from Schickle’s Pickles. He’s looking for companionship.” Emmett’s voice turned soft and serious. It was like Brian had never heard from Emmett when talking about guys he had sex with. “Which I am more than happy to provide. He’s so kind and funny. I just adore him.”
“How long have you known him?” Brian was wary, especially considering Emmett’s track record for dropping men he “adored” like flies. Emmett wasn’t one to commit, much like Brian. Maybe they were both growing away from all that.
“We’ve been seeing each other for almost two weeks now. I met him not long after Pride weekend. You’re the first to know.” Emmett gave Brian a look and leaned forward, “If Teddy finds out, he will probably prevent me from seeing him. Protecting his business and all that.”
“Yeah, Theodore has been a bit possessive of you lately. I hope he’s paying you what you’re worth.” Brian muttered.
Then he leaned back with a sigh, “So, why are you telling me first? Why not Justin? Wouldn’t it be more conducive to chat with the other housewife of the group?”
“I resent that remark. But, honestly, Justin would never be able to understand how huge this is. Plus, you’re less likely to judge me for shacking up with a man more than twice my age.” Emmett shrugged and then leaned back in his chair as well.
“Oh, do you want me to jump up and down in my chair with excitement?” Brian half-bounced and pretended to clap his hands. The sarcasm was coming in hot, and surprisingly, Emmett wasn’t put off by it.
“If I wanted that, I most definitely would’ve gone to Justin,” Emmett smirked with an eye roll for good measure.
Brian shrugged, leaned his arm on his lap, and turned back to work on his computer. He was actually looking into a computer device that he’d seen in his art department last week. His brain had already forgotten that Emmett was in his office until he looked up and saw the younger man sitting there examining his cuticles.
“Do you think George would prefer I wear tight shorts instead of pants?” Emmett mumbled, staring at his thighs instead of at Brian.
“Uh…” Brian took a moment to reboot his mind. “I think George is probably happy he can get any at all.” Brian chuckled as Emmett looked up with a glare.
“Can I get your opinion on something?” Brian attempted to turn the conversation to the computer, which he was thinking about presenting to Justin.
“Yes, I do believe your medical ad there needs more men and muscles.” Emmett winked at Brian, motioning to the corkboard propped up to the side of his desk.
Brian dropped his head into his hands and sighed. “No, not about that, but thank you. I was wondering if you thought Justin would get mad if I bought him this computer that he could do art on?”
Brian turned his computer screen around just a bit to give Emmett an opportunity to look at the device he was already set on ordering. Emmett leaned over his desk and gave the image his full attention.
“Will it make him feel like you are trying to change him? That he needs fixing?” Emmett raised his eyebrow.
Brian leaned back. “Fuck. Probably.” With a bite to his lip, he got closer to Emmett once more, “One of our guys in the art department was using one the other day, and I thought it looked like a nice alternative, considering Justin still has hand seizures.”
“My experience with Justin is that he will be open to a discussion if you present it as an idea, not as a solution. Just talk to him before you make the decision about buying it.” Emmett kissed Brian on his cheek before he skipped out of the office.
That night, Brian decided to forgo Woody’s or Babylon in favor of leaving the office at 6:30 pm and going back to the loft instead. He called ahead and let Justin know he would be coming home soon. Part of Brian did this because it made him feel warm inside, knowing that someone cared whether or not he came home at night, let alone took care of himself. Another part did it because he wanted to be sure Justin wouldn’t be terrified of him the moment he returned, considering the young man was still startled at unexpected people in his space.
When he arrived home with his briefcase in hand, Brian smelled food cooking even before opening his door. Once he had entered the space, the sound of Justin fumbling around in the kitchen made him smile to himself. He put his briefcase down on his desk and entered the kitchen to find Justin surrounded by pots and pans and the makings of a salad. Brian smiled and leaned over to plant a kiss on Justin’s temple.
“What’s this?” He reached into the pot for a taste, and Justin slapped his hand away.
“I’m making some garlic parmesan orzo with chicken. But it’s not quite done yet.” Justin replied with an answering grin and a kiss to the side of Brian’s mouth.
The blonde was about to stir the orzo when he suddenly dropped the spoon and grabbed at his right hand. Brian watched as the young man massaged his right palm as it spasmed. He even attempted to shake it out in an attempt to allow his fingers to uncurl. Brian silently reached over and massaged Justin’s hand while the young man whimpered from what was probably a painful incident.
After a few minutes, his hand relaxed, and Justin was able to focus on his cooking once more. The orzo was somewhat sticking to the pan, but Brian didn’t care. What mattered was that Justin’s hand was alright.
“That was a really bad one.” Brian rubbed his chin in thought, “How bad have they been lately.”
Justin just shrugged, but he wouldn’t look at Brian, which told him all he needed to know about the matter. Alarm bells were going off in Brian’s head. He needed Justin to be honest with him, but he didn’t exactly know how to push him without pushing him away entirely. He loved the man before him and yet he couldn’t bring himself to pressure Justin to reveal just how bad his hand spasms were. What’s even worse, Justin was clearly hiding them from everyone because Jennifer and Emmett would’ve told him if they’d known.
“Justin,” Brian placed his hands on Justin’s shoulders in an attempt to get the blonde to look him in the eye, “When did these spasms become painful? We should tell your neurologist.”
“It’s nothing, Brian. I can handle it.” Justin tried to dismiss his concern, but Brian wasn’t having it.
“That’s not nothing. You were whimpering as I massaged your hand. It's hurting you!” Brian tried not to yell, but his tone did go up an octave in concern.
“So I have a bit of pain now. I can’t afford to have another surgery or procedure done. My mom definitely can’t afford it.” Justin bit his lip.
“Why not let me worry about that part? What’s the real reason you don’t want to go to the doctor?” Brian knew Justin was just using finances as a ruse to get out of a deeper conversation.
“Brian. Just drop it.” Justin turned off the burners. “It’s fine. I’ve just been stretching my abilities to the max in an attempt to finish even one painting.”
“I’ll call your neurologist tomorrow. Until we talk to him, no more painting or drawing.” Brian gave Justin a stern look, and the blonde nodded in agreement.
After a beat, Brian added, “I would rather you do art in a different way, a new way, than risk losing the ability completely because you pushed yourself to do it the old way.” Brian leaned forward with one hand cupping Justin’s cheek and placed a kiss on his lips.
“Drawing and painting help me feel less anxious.” Justin tried to argue, but he gave in to Brian’s kiss and let the emotions carry him. Justin wrapped his arms around Brian’s neck and dived in deeper.
After a bit, Brian pulled away to add more to their conversation. “I know, but they aren’t the only way you can produce art.”
“If I’m not painting or drawing, then what else do I have?”
“I might have an idea for you.” Brian pulled Justin into a hug against his chest. He wished with all his might he could take away any of these residual issues Justin was dealing with daily.
“The other day, one of the guys from our art department showed me an ad he was working on in real-time. Only instead of drawing it by hand he was doing it on a computer. He said the smaller pen gave his hand more control and didn’t make his muscles hurt as much as painting does.” Brain pulled back to look Justin in the eye in an attempt to gauge his reaction. “It’s just an idea.”
Justin pulled out of Brian’s arms completely. His face turned sour.
“So, you want everyone to see that poor little Justin can’t do art like a normal person anymore.” Justin’s temper was flaring, but Brian had anticipated he might react this way.
“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying that sometimes you have to adjust expectations. Art on the computer is still art.” Brian joined his hands together to crack his knuckles while he watched Justin move about the loft, sorting through his emotions on the matter.
“Let me guess. You went ahead and already bought the computer. This is just your attempt to make me like the idea before you give it to me.” Justin turned to Brian with a scoff on his lips and a scornful look in his eyes.
“No, I am telling you about this alternative so that you know it's an option. If you are willing to try it, then I will buy it.” Brian didn’t give in to the frustration or anger Justin was gunning to pull out of him.
“Right, because you think if you buy things for me, I’ll just forget that I have a fucking gimp hand?! Or that my attackers might get off at the trial tomorrow?” Justin’s deep-seated anger at the whole hand situation started to make sense.
Brian was floored. Did Justin really believe that his attackers might get the charges dismissed? Was the young man really that terrified of a negative outcome that he was willing to allow his injury recovery to possibly backtrack?
Brian stepped back into Justin’s personal space and wrapped the young man in his arms once more. “Do you really believe that the judge will think they didn’t do this?”
“Be real, Brian. We are faggots. The judge will most likely think we deserve any violence against us because we’ve flaunted ourselves in front of unassuming heteros!” Justin pushed Brian away, which hurt Brian more than he cared to admit.
“You don’t know that. The evidence is damning. You were just standing outside a club and got attacked for no other reason than you were outside a gay club.” Brian didn’t even believe the words he was saying, but he wanted desperately for Justin to believe them.
“Right.” Justin scoffed, “I believe that almost as much as you do. Which isn’t a whole lot.”
“Let’s not think about it.” Brian tried to steer the conversation away from anything resembling the trial tomorrow. “The food is getting cold. Let’s eat.”
Justin reluctantly nodded his head and went back to the kitchen to plate up their food. Brian put out silverware on the table and silently watched the warring emotions still dancing across Justin’s features. He wanted to do nothing more than give Justin the absolution he deserved. The younger man had every reason to be afraid, but Brian just wanted him to feel safe no matter where he was or who he was with.
Yeah. I know that’s a fool's dream. I can’t even say that for myself.
When Justin finally brought their plates over to the table, Brian met him with a smile and a kiss to the side of his mouth.
“This smells amazing.”
“I hope it’s okay. The orzo burned a little bit.” Justin bit his lip and sat down across from Brian.
“It’s fine. It’ll give the dish character.” Brian cracked a mischievous smile.
Justin shook his head and grinned down at his plate. The two started to eat in companionable silence.
“Did you know Emmett is seeing someone?” Brian finally broke their silence.
“How is that news?” Justin looked up, confused.
“No, I mean he’s really seeing someone. Like they’ve gone on dates.” Brian shuddered at the word, which made Justin laugh.
“I know you act like dating is the worst thing in the world, but you seem to forget eating dinner with the person you are seeing is considered a date. Even if it’s at your place of residence.” Justin lifted his eyebrows and motioned to the setup between them.
“Well, considering one of the few times I went on a date, I ended up blowing the waiter. I might be favorable to call this that as well.” Brian waggled his eyebrows.
Justin went silent and began to hunch his shoulders forward and pull his body in on itself. Brian realized the young man felt uncomfortable, so he immediately back tracked his statement.
“I was just kidding.” Brian tried his best to amend his words, but he wasn’t well versed in apologies, so naturally, it didn’t go over well with Justin.
“No you weren’t.” Justin mumbled, “But I understand. You can’t help yourself sometimes. You still aren’t used to people who don’t treat sex as second-nature.”
Brian opened his mouth to object, but Justin looked up and continued, “Let’s just eat.”
#queer as folk#brian kinney#justin taylor#fanfiction#alternate universe#asexual spectrum representation#brian x justin
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i've moved smsdelivers over here. i'm back to my roots. i want this to feel casual yet cathartic. i want to share without feeling like i must bend over backwards to sell myself as something i'm not.
maybe i am what i sell. maybe i just hate the effort it takes to look how i feel, to articulate what i think.
it can't just be about the movies anymore. my life revolves around them, yes, but it cannot exist for them. i can't resign myself to watch life and not live it.
i was lucky enough to catch jane schoenbrun's i saw the tv glow early through a co-worker. i wanted to cry all day after but i couldn't. i will speak in the abstract on my feelings because the movie isn't out yet and i would hate to ruin the magic of the surprise. the discovery smith and lundy-paine make in this film cut me open like a knife. driving home i typed with one hand into my notes "THERE IS SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL INSIDE OF YOU AND YOU ARE SCARED SICK AND SORRY FOR IT", frantic and reckless like if i did not say it it would never be said and i would forget everything i felt in those final moments of the film. (i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry)
it made me want to write again. it made me feel like my life was passing me by as i retreated away from all instinct to share who i am. i have always considered myself a writer, i've done it every day since i was thirteen, whether in fragments of fiction or poetry or scripts or personal essays. i felt trapped within a version of myself too scared to change, frightened of what would be thought of me, of mediocrity and rejection.
rejection has been haunting me a lot lately. a boy i once fell miserably hard (and dizzyingly fast) for laughed at me when i was interviewed about how this website shaped me. he was embarrassed for me. it gutted me to be believed in and discarded. do you all ever feel that way? anyways, it's the main reason i've picked this as my new home after substack. i'm reclaiming my tumblr upbringing. i'm girlblogging for the masses* (*the 30 or so of you that read this thing). i am freeing myself from the fear by returning to the digital equivalent of my childhood bedroom.
follow me here. click in periodically. it's up to you, but i will be sharing myself here with more love and less effort. my journalistic efforts will cover how the art i consume affects my life but does not define it.
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So...
How did Grusha get into Pokémon training anyway?
I don't think there's actually a canon reason in the game so fuck it, have my headcanon.
(Also consider this a part one because man oh man did this get long and unwieldy)
Tl;dr he actually has friends and they're the ones who got him into it. Kind of.
More specifically, he has a group of friends he goes snowboarding with. He's known all of them since his pre-pro days, basically since they were all children, and though none of them ever reached the same heights he did in terms of their own respective careers, they've all just... stuck by each other.
Naturally, following his accident and subsequent retirement, Grusha was obviously... a bit upset. He'd still venture out onto the slopes every day to at least get some form of social interaction, but it was clear that he just... wasn't himself. He was quiet, less enthusiastic, seemingly always lost inside his own thoughts, and most worryingly, no longer confident in his abilities. His friends obviously knew why he'd changed, but as a bunch of emotionally stunted jocks who probably thought they'd all catch The Gay if they ever so much as thought about talking about their feelings, none of them were really equipped to engage in any meaningful or deep conversation with him. Not now, at least.
So, they did the next best thing they could think of; buying him a Pokéball. "You're the only one out of all of us who doesn't have a Pokémon," they told him,
He dismissed their concerns, obviously, telling them that he was fine (he wasn't) and that they were overreacting (they weren't), that only middle aged people stuck in jobs they hate and don't exercise get depression (wrong, also foreshadowing). He appreciated the gesture, sure, but he definitely wasn't going to ever need a Pokéball as he had no intention of using it.
Plus he wasn't entirely on board with the idea of abducting and attempting to tame a random wild animal anyway.
He puts the Pokéball in his coat pocket and forgets about it eventually, until one day he's returning home from another listless day on the slopes when he notices a Cetoddle following him. It's cute, and he stops to play with and talk to it, but knows it'll probably either lose interest in him eventually, or will stop following him once he descends to a lower, warmer altitude.
But it doesn't.
It follows him all the way home.
It seems uncomfortable with the balmy Medali heat, though despite him reassuring it it's okay to leave, and that he'll be back out on the mountain tomorrow, it still follows him to his flat. Part of him wonders if it's even a wild Pokémon at all. Though he knows Cetoddle are an exceptionally curious and friendly species, he's never seen one venture this far down the mountain.
He lets it into his flat.
It perks up once it enters, possibly due to the cool tiled floor offering it some respite from the evening heat, though it still seems tired and worn out. Grusha then realises he doesn't have the slightest idea on how to take care of one of these things.
He spends most of the evening on his phone, browsing various forums and websites on Cetoddle care, all the while the Cetoddle in question dozes peacefully next to him. He strokes it with his free hand, eventually coming to the conclusion that so long as he brings it to the mountain each day to graze in its natural habitat, he should be fine to feed it whatever. He gets up to check the fridge.
He remembers the Pokéball.
Cetoddle looks up at him curiously as he finally pulls it out of his coat pocket. He fumbles with it, almost dropping it in fright as it opens and pulls Cetoddle inside. It twitches.
It clicks.
A bit more fumbling and he releases it again, quietly vowing to only use the Pokéball to transport his new pal to and from the mountain to avoid it overheating like it did earlier. Sure it might require him to rearrange some of his furniture to make it easier for Cetoddle to move around his flat, but he's still not sold on the idea of keeping it in its ball 24/7. Plus, it is extremely cute. It feels stupid to admit it, but his heart does feel a little lighter just by looking at its bright smile.
He names the Cetoddle Persik, as per family tradition. Persik accompanies him to the slopes the next day; he is of course, lightly ribbed by his co-boarders for finally giving in and catching a Pokémon (despite his insistence that Persik literally followed him home), but they quickly warm to their new teammate. Despite all of them having Pokémon, they rarely battle, preferring to let them roam or chase them as they carve their way down the mountain.
That is, until, one day.
Grusha didn't know where the group came from or what their damage was, but they were all on skis, which was enough to make him dislike them from the offset. Coupled with the fact said group on skis were hogging his group's favourite slope, and he could tell this wasn't going to end well.
The skiers challenge his group to a Pokémon battle, their apparent leader singling Grusha out for a one-on-one battle. He tries to explain that he's no battler, he doesn't even know what moves his Pokémon has, but it's to no avail.
Of course, he loses. Spectacularly.
He feels a strong pang of guilt as he recalls Persik into the safety of his Pokéball, though that guilt is quickly swept away by anger as the skier returns to his herd, gloating loudly that he'd just taken out the great Grusha Ibáñez with hilarious ease. Grusha has a good mind to bend down, pack a hard snowball and peg it straight up the back of the skier's stupid head.
But he doesn't.
Just as quickly as his guilt gave way to anger, his anger gives way to something else.
Determination.
For the first time since his retirement, he feels a familiar spark ignite deep within. It's the same spark that drove him for years back in his glory days, it's his drive, his passion, it's...
It's like his old life returning to him, just in a different form.
He heads straight to the nearest Pokémon Centre, first healing Persik and then stocking up on Pokéballs, potions, antifreeze, everything he assumes a rookie trainer will need. That skier seemed to know how to battle competently after all. He'd need a lot of practice if he wanted to have a hope in Hell's chance of beating him. As well as more Pokémon. He couldn't bring himself to battle with Persik again.
He throws himself head first into learning how to battle; gregariously reading every book, magazine and website he can find about Pokémon battling, studying different forms and techniques he can apply to his own developing style, how to use each Pokémon he's been able to catch and train so far to its full potential. Admittedly his team stays quite small, still in part due to his reservations about catching wild animals unless they seem like they want to be caught, however eventually his team expands to include a Cubchoo (Arbuz), Snom (Klubnika) and a Sneasel (Yezhevika). He trains them all relentlessly, and to eventual evolution (even shedding a few tears when Klubnika evolved that one frigid night), getting to a point where sparring with his fellow snowboarding pals is no longer satisfying. They'd agree with him as well; though obviously it's great to see Grusha finally enthusiastic about something again, there's only so much getting their asses kicked repeatedly that they can handle.
He decides it's finally time to track down that skier again.
#tl;dr a skier slighted him once#pokemon scarvi#gym leader grusha#grusha#headcanons#i'll have a part two. eventually#as in how he got the gym leader position and such#and how it kinda killed his interest in battling for a bit#but i need a break lmao#pokémon#gym leaders
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This might feel like a stretch to some, but you can tell all you need to about this jackass by the fact that Tim Cook is presenting this, and how they word his dialog. For the record, Tim Cook will *introduce* the products, but in the same way an MC at a symposium would. He announced the product, and then he immediately gives the floor to one of the other speakers to actually talk about the product. Anyone who’s ever actually watched one of Apple’s presentations the last decade knows this, because it’s a stark contrast to what Steve Jobs would do.
Now, you might not find this weird to mention because, yeah, sure dude, the fuck does that matter? And the truth is, Tim Cook from day one of taking over Apple has been touted as a man living in Steve Job’s shadow. He was outed as gay before he officially came out in 2014, and that was a talk piece among asshole tech bros for what that would mean for Apple moving forward ( and in the same vein of this release, there was often talk of the new iPhone being gay, or whatever, as if technicolor rainbow wasn’t an Apple thing long before Tim Cook took the stage. ). Any time Apple seemed to move in a bad direction, Tim Cook directly has been blamed by every Tech website budget journalist out there. But any time Apple heads in a good direction, it’s considered the company as a whole. The dude absolutely revolutionized things internally in Apple, and while Apple still has problems, when your goddamn CEO is gay, you can usually breathe a lot easier about worries of discrimination.
And he’s open about being gay. And he’s gay and religious, so he’s the type of gay who knows how to preach it being anything but a sin. And he advocates and has Apple donate to LGBT orgs, and talks at length about how much backlash coming out cost him and how he never rescinded his statement because gay kids need role models too.
So understand, he’s fucking *hated* by every fucking douche tech bro out there, even if they tout the Apple line. In their eyes, Apple’s decisions are made in spite of him, and not with him. So just by using him as the ‘mouthpiece presenter’ of this wild conflation of what the EU actually requires, they’re trying to continue to build him as a pansy pushover giving into someone’s ideals.
Dude’s ran the company just fine for 12 years now, and was the actual, chosen successor of Steve Jobs. Before he was CEO, he essentially pulled a Jeff Bezos and invested Apple resources in air freight years before Prime 2 Day Shipping would be a thing, and he did so specifically to solve logistics problems he learned to anticipate while he worked at IBM.
You know how Apple Maps used to be a joke? It was developed to specifically try and cut reliance on Google, specifically because Google starting work with Android OS and taking what they learned working with Apple with them while trying to block Google Maps features on Apple devices internally. Apple was pushed into finding a solution with a terrible business partner. Unfortunately, it was a flop, but many believe the reason it failed was internal sabotage from a now deposed employee, and to make up for the shortcomings, Apple under Tim Cook bought and integrated mapping firms to bridge the gaps, because the in house alternative to Google still mattered to have even if Google Maps still dominates the app market.
Tim Cook also pushed for a lot of manufacturing to move to the US from overseas, with much success, in an era where even today most tech manufacturing is located square in Asia.
The man also has spoken out time and time again about apps and the rampant upscaling of data collection, and how he considers it a sort of crisis that needs to be stopped now before it gets worse.
Understand, I am fully aware of the problems Apple has, how disgusting it is they fight the right to repair, or how they try to push it so from start to finish you’re using Apple approved wires and Apple approved vendors and no third party products like headphones or chargers. I DO find the inflated price tag of the same phone sold 15 or so goddamn times to be infuriating. I do NOT want to paint Apple or even Tim Cook as a saint here. But what I do want to say is that Tim Cook, time and time again, is pushed under the same slandering trying to paint him as an incompetent soyboy who will never live up to the monolith that people made Steve Jobs out to be, and that the reality is, for better or for worse, Tim Cook is actually terrifyingly competent at his job, and at least, on a surface level, absolutely retains some of the humanity we expect to be lost on most people considered CEO, and that just makes the blood boil in every tech bro who worships Elon the same way they used to worship the living Steve Jobs.
ok this looks ultra mega based, are you kidding me? can you imagine the bullshit i could get up to with this bad boy? fuck yes i want ten
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In an ideal world I’d love to set them all 20-30 years ago so I didn’t have to think about this ever again but I’m so fucking reliant on tech now that I had to think about their tech habits. Also no one asked for this information.
Ruby is a rich bitch. She always has the latest iPhone the day it comes out, and she has the screen replaced at least once a month from shattering it. Is on first name basis with the local Genius Bar. Her entire life is on there, and if anything happened to it she’d be entirely lost, but that doesn’t stop her from relying solely on the cloud. She pays the monthly subscription for extra iCloud storage and is entirely reliant on it. She also has an iPad which gathers dust in a drawer, because phones these days are huge, and she basically can’t tell the difference. Uses the same password for everything. Has every subscription service, and hardly uses them. Got a subscription to a horror streaming service because she thought she’d be able to watch and learn about inside jokes that people were making. Turns out shes more effected by horror than she knew because she started having really bad nightmares, so now she’s scared to watch them alone. Surprisingly is staunchly against Apple Watches though, because she thinks they’re ugly. That’s it. That’s the whole reason. Has refused to take photos with people just because they were wearing an Apple Watch or had a tan line from it.
Connie only upgraded to a touch screen phone two years ago. She used to have an old Nokia brick, but the battery died and she couldn’t find someone to replace it, so she bought the cheapest phone she could find at a petrol station near her apartment. It has no case because she couldn’t find anywhere that sold them, but is in surprisingly good shape, considering. She almost exclusively uses it for phone calls, and Spotify so she can play music she likes at work. In her hometown the only people who had computers at home were rich, so any time she went online was at the public library or school and is pretty tech illiterate. Technically has an instagram because her roommate made her download it so they could send her memes She opens the app approximately once a fortnight. Has considered upgrading to a nicer phone, but can’t justify spending all that money.
Serena is a tech girlie through and through. Took extracurriculars in coding during high school, and joined an IT club in college. Built her own PC from scratch. Her dad tried to convince her to go into the tech industry instead of journalism, because the money would be so much better, but she refused. Spends ridiculous amounts of time on social media, like her screen time statistics are atrocious. Also spends a lot of time on Reddit. Thinks having things backed up on one cloud and two hard disks is mandatory. Uses different passwords for every website. Acts as tech support for her friends, but when she tries to teach them to be self sufficient, doesn’t realise she’s assume base level knowledge that’s actually above what most people understand so she gets really frustrated when people can’t follow along. Would be horrified by all my others characters tech habits.
Catherine has an entire apple ecosystem. It started because her school insisted on them all having MacBooks purchased through the school, then she got an iPhone for Christmas, and now every piece of tech she owns is apple, because she’s too stubborn-slash-scared to learn a new operating system. Has an iPad that she’s almost unhealthily attached to, to the point it’s named. (Rose, by the way, because it’s rose gold. I never said she was imaginative with the names) Uses an Apple Pencil because she thinks it makes her look smarter when she’s taking notes about things. Has cases and screen protectors on everything, and has never so much as scratched her phone. Has some minimal knowledge on basic repairs, like if it gets dropped in water or overheats, but doesn’t really need anything further because she generally takes really good care of her stuff. Does back things up onto a hard drive every other month because she doesn’t entirely trust the cloud, but does keep most of her things there between backups.
Everything Andrea owns is second hand, and she’s learned though YouTube videos how to replace and repair them. She’ll never rely on another phone repair shop again. As a side gig does repair other peoples phones for extra cash. Is paranoid about her data being hacked, as if she’d ever be a target, so has firewalls on firewalls on protection on protection. Doesn’t take her phone when she’s out hiking because she’s scared about being tracked. She’s not so deep into conspiracy theories that she thinks the government has chipped people in vaccines, but does believe the government is tracking phones. Or, if it’s not the government, it’s corporations, which in her mind is even worse. AI makes her wake up in a cold sweat and the fact that phones listen to you when you talk makes her break out in hives. Definitely locks her phone in a box when she’s not using it. Her blog posts are incredibly vague about her life/information/whereabouts. Uses bitcoin,cryptocurrencies as often as she can to avoid paper trails, and in person deals exclusively in cash.
BONUS:
Kit is obsessive about having a paper trail for everything. Uses a credit or debit card for every transaction he can, keeps all his receipts and scans them onto a USB, uses an email account as a journal of everything he does every day so it’s dated, times, and has an IP address attached. Does believe the government is watching him and thinks if he keeps his every movement monitored, they won’t be suspicious about him ever again. Keeps up to date with news stories about things like facial recognition because he believes if he knows everything, he can always make the right moves and will never be at the wrong place/wrong time again.
#⌞i have seen them fall⌟ catherine forsyth#⌞you'll always be a dumb blonde⌟ serena greenwith#⌞because i could not stop for death he kindly stopped for me⌟ ruby kane#⌞madness was before mind⌟ andrea sallow#ironically posted from my iPad :-)
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ok, heres the rant:
i wrote my ba thesis on norwegian hiphop and highlighted three acts, although i ended up focusing on this one act (a duo) in particular, you might even consider it obsessing. i listened to and analysed all their songs, music videos, interviews etc. For six months, they were pretty much all i could think about. and that started to hurt, in a way i still havent fully comprehended. maybe i am sad that i have not seen them live yet and feeling like a perpetual outsider to this culture, afraid that i will never be able to fully understand them. overwhelmed, too. or maybe i am empathetic to the fates they describe in their songs.
(let me add that, whilst i already was in the midst, or rather the final "endspurt" of my work, they released a new album, so whenever i would go on instagram i was flooded with new information that, oftentimes, was not intended to be understood by someone like me.)
i am only somewhat proud of the thesis. it got a good grade (a minus), and i somehow got to many "right" results, without utilising the "right" theories. however, you can clearly see that it was my first major paper. every time i open it, i see mistakes and i cringe at formulations. in addition, i would sum up the work as overambitious, trying to grasp everything at once. since i am thinking about participating in an scientific essay writing contest, i thought about redoing my work, keeping the topic and big parts of the analysis but refining everything and adding more "proper" theories.
since i deinstalled instagram a year ago, i havent really been keeping up on them. i am finally at a point where i can listen to their music and enjoy it again, although i do sometimes find myself analysing it. well, a week ago i opened spotify to a notification that they had released a new album, along with some merch. i clicked on it, only to find that they are currently on a european tour, their first, as far as im aware. i also saw, that while many of the tour dates had already passed, there was still one open, ten days from then, (next monday) in a city only 3 hours by train from me. i immediately went to the ticketing website, which gave me the option to be put on a waiting list for any returned tickets. i signed up, and somehow got a hold of two tickets (bringing a friend for emotional support).
ever since then i have been in a conundrum: do i ask them to sign a copy of my thesis? the idea of having my printed out version of it autographed by the analysed artists has been stuck in my mind basically since the conception of it. (did i write the thesis solely to get the artists' attention? not exclusively; i genuinely think it is an important topic that is underrepresented in my field of study) so tonight i finally reached out - i sent them a snapchat of the thesis with the plea to sign it. if i recall correctly, the one in charge of snapchat is also the one whos autograph i want the most. he has also studied cultural studies, i believe, so i think he would maybe appreciate my effort the most. and while in my head i keep having discussions with him on orientalism and cultural studies, the simple act of sending that snap gave me enough anxiety to kill a small child.
i feel i would totally embarass myself in front of them and they would hate me, and i know that is nonsensical, but that is how i feel. i would love to get that booklet signed, but preferably without having to communicate with them. but this is pretty much a once in a lifetime chance. and being able to talk about their work would also give me some input and motivation to work on the essay for the contest.
i am bringing that print out to the concert, whether i get an answer or not, and maybe, after a great concert and having danced out all anxiety or w/e, i might be able to talk to them, without immediately afterwards feeling like clawing my way out of my skin.
i really want my favourite artists autograph, but i dont want them to perceive me
#also been dealing with a lot of body and (lets admit it) gender dysphoria lately so thats an added layer#words of advice or encouragement are welcome
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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐𝘐 - 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙚) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader
(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐)
𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || the finale.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.5k
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || fluff, angst, implied smut, domestic goodness, more EMOTIONS!!!
six months ago...
Bucky wrung his hands a few times before knocking on your door, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he could hear the sounds of your footsteps on the other side. He'd been dreaming of a day like this for so long— the day he finally acted on this secret obsession he had, the day he stopped fantasizing and started realizing— but all this time, part of him had never really thought he'd go through with it. I mean, there's a pretty big difference between jerking off to videos of dominant women and actually getting spanked, slapped, and choked by a dominatrix after paying her an insane amount of money per hour.
But frankly, Bucky needed a big difference from what he'd been doing. He'd been alone for a little too long, he needed someone else's touch before he lost his mind. And he knew that he needed something more substantial than a hook-up, someone who wouldn't expect him to be dominant at all. Even in a kink-less, vanilla hook-up, there’s still an onus of dominance, that’s what Bucky had realised. He’s still supposed to initiate, to guide, to be fully in control… and he hates how it feels to be in control. He’s not used to it, and it doesn’t feel right, and it just makes him sure he’ll do something wrong. So here he was, standing at your door, hoping you’d take away his freedom to do something wrong.
The latch turned and you opened it.
Fuck.
You looked great. Too great, almost overwhelming. Even better than the pictures on your website.
You looked so much softer than the women he saw whenever he searched up femdom porn (yes, that was pretty much the first thing he did once he figured out google— thankfully he had also figured out incognito mode), but your presence was twice as commanding. Your eyes scanned over him quickly and your face stayed annoyingly stoic.
You invited him in; And since then, you’d had him wrapped around your finger.
Even knowing to a certain extent what he was getting into, he could’ve never prepared for how quickly he’d fall for you. Not that he was exactly new to the feeling, but he thought guilt might eat him alive: because of course he felt awful for developing real feelings for you. You were just doing your job and he was falling into the same trap that probably every dumbass client fell into.
Or maybe they actually knew what they were doing and understood how to separate fantasy from reality. He couldn’t decide which one was worse.
He spent a few hours trying to decide while staring up at his ceiling— certainly a better way to spend the time than being social or taking care of unfinished business, right?
But leave it to you to change everything with just three words. Make me yours.
He hadn’t stopped thinking about those words— or about the way you said them— since the moment you spoke them. He hadn’t stopped changing his mind on if he could really believe you were his or not. He wanted to, more than anything; and in those brief moments he did, he felt a joy that he had no idea what to do with.
He frowned as he turned his back towards the mirror, looking over his shoulder to watch his finger run over the fading scars on his back. They’d be gone for good in less than a week, but he knew you had left plenty of permanent marks on him— just unfortunately not those that anyone else could see. He liked the way these scars looked under your fingertips much more than his; he liked everything about being in your arms.
Since you’d texted him to ask if you could have a serious talk with him soon, he worried he wouldn’t get to feel that again. In fact, nothing worried him more.
He was typically antsy as he waited for you to answer the door— he had been since that very first time so long ago— but this felt entirely different: not as jittery, but a thousand times more anxious.
At first he’d been wishing you’d answer it right away, but then he heard your bolt turn and panic landed on him like a dangling anvil dropping on a cartoon character. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was for you to open that door, to be standing there looking all perfect and shit, to smile at him and greet him and invite him in. He didn’t want it; he couldn’t take it.
But you did it all anyway, though it was obviously and immediately a new situation entirely, compared to every other time you’d done it.
You were dressed differently, still formal but definitely toned down. Nothing sexual, at least not objectively. And your smile, though it still made his heart skip a beat just like always, was noticeably softer and maybe a bit sadder.
He stepped in past you, and you surprised him by sitting next to him on the couch rather than across from him on your chair. “Do you want, like, water or anything?” you asked, breaking the silence for a moment.
“No, I’m fine,” he nodded.
Bucky had gotten pretty good at silence these past few years; it didn’t bother him, in fact he barely even noticed it. But this silence made him remember why everyone else hated silence so much: it was heavy and thick and made him overcome with the need to blurt something out. “Everyone calls me Bucky,” he finally admitted. You smiled.
“Do you want me to call you that?” you asked.
He considered your question, trying to imagine you saying it. “I… I used to think it would be better, but now I like the way you say ‘James’ too much.”
“If you thought it would be better, why did you ask me to call you James?” you pressed.
“Because I didn’t want you to know who I was.”
“I know who you are,” you informed him. “I always knew.”
He swallowed as the pit formed in his gut, glancing away to hide from your gaze. “You did a good job of… of pretending you didn’t. You never seemed scared of me.”
“Because I wasn’t. And I’m not.”
He couldn’t imagine how; but then again, if there was any truly fearless woman, he figured it would be you. “I thought you’d beat me up better if you knew what I’d done,” he admitted, almost smiling but not exactly feeling very happy. “Thought you might want… revenge.”
“Surprised that didn’t make you want to tell me.”
He laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, fair enough.”
You asked him a very different question next, one that made his throat suddenly dry: "Have you ever had something that was all your own?" you spoke gently.
"Not for a long time…" he trailed off, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared down at your floor before finding the courage to look up at you again. “Is that what you wanna be?” he asked, already wishing he hadn’t said anything in case it was too presumptuous, but you just smiled back at him in a shy sort of way.
“Something like that,” you mitigated.
His eyes darted around your face— from your eyes glancing away, to your lips that you gnawed on for a moment, to the little crease between your brows— and he found himself leaning forward before he even realized it. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.
You didn’t answer, you just kissed him first; he was so relieved that you did it, too, that you took control so easily and just let him melt into your kiss. As good as it felt to submit to you, he enjoyed the new freedom he had in this moment as well— the freedom to reach up and grab your waist, to brush his hand over your hair, to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further.
It was hard to define exactly where it went from innocent to sensual to sexual, but by the time you were straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair, it was definitely sexual.
“I want you,” you breathed against his lips.
“Have me,” he offered immediately, “I’m yours. Always was.”
He breathed in sharply when you moved your hips just right to rub up against his swelling cock through his jeans, making him grip your waist a bit harder. “Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, James.”
He believed you this time, finally.
For your first real date, he took you to Coney Island. Not the classiest affair, and he promised to take you somewhere really nice next, but you didn’t mind. It was jarring to see you in casual clothes for the first time, something summer-y and light which was everything opposite to how he was used to seeing you; but he liked it, and he liked knowing a secret about you as you walked through a crowd of carnival-goers that were none the wiser.
He walked you through the fair and explained how he remembered it, showed you the few things that hadn’t changed much. He bought you a hot dog and even won you a prize at one of the games; that one where you throw a baseball and it measures your pitch speed? Yeah, it’s rigged, but he pitched lefty and it seemed to even everything out. (It’s not cheating, okay? It’s beating them at their own game, literally.)
So with a massive teddy under one arm and his waist wrapped in your other, you two walked through the winding pier, under twinkling lights and over walkways towering over the ocean below. And then you fooled around a bit on the ferris wheel. It was the ideal Coney Island experience, for sure.
Bucky didn’t have a ton of friends, per se, but he was excited for you to meet them. Meeting friends was certainly a step, though; hopefully a step you were willing to take, but he didn’t want to ask you to do it without at least having a title to introduce you with.
“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he finally told you.
“I kinda thought I already was,” you laughed.
And so, with more pride than he might have ever had for anything before, Bucky finally got to take you to meet everyone (‘everyone’ being a mix of his friends and his coworkers, who may or may not be his friends because he couldn’t always tell) and say “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend.”
Of course you were amazing with all of them; you continued that tactful “I know who you are but I’m pretending I don’t to be nice” thing that you’d started with him, and everyone seemed to appreciate it. You cracked a couple jokes, everyone laughed.
You lied about how you and Bucky met, or at least answered very strategically. Everyone at least pretended to believe you.
Afterwards, they all said something about how great you were or about how lucky he was. The only thing he ever said back was “I know.”
Now that he could kiss you without breaking any rules, he never wanted to stop. He hardly ever did, actually. He kissed you basically whenever he could get the chance; you two didn’t even go out much anymore because he wasn’t very good at keeping his hands to himself, but you weren’t exactly complaining about staying in. You were too busy kissing him back, and teasing him mercilessly while you were at it, to do that.
You had already found the fastest way to get him needy and begging, not that any way took very long. If you kissed him while you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around him and slowly grinding against him, he lost it in minutes. And you really seemed to get a kick out of watching him lose it, just as much as always.
It made him realize that the way you looked at him before, in sessions and scenes together, was a lot less of an act than he’d assumed at the time. He just thought you were a really good actress, or that he was really whipped; and maybe the first was true, and the second was absolutely true, but regardless it had become clear that you had it almost as bad as he did from the beginning. It gave him even more respect for how well you controlled yourself, he certainly hadn’t had much self-control at the time— after all the whole ordeal was about losing control, and occasionally about trying to gain it back.
He didn’t ask you to quit your job. He didn’t want or expect you to; but you did cut down your hours, which gave the two of you more time together.
To be totally honest, part of him got a bit titillated to imagine you with your other clients. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching you, but he smirked at the thought of them begging to touch you and being denied; he liked knowing that you didn’t do with them even half of the stuff you’d done with him when he was your client.
But he wasn’t your client anymore. He was your boyfriend, and he wanted the world to know it.
six months later...
He let you struggle to reach the top shelf for a moment, just because you looked cute on your tip-toes with the tip of your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth, before he finally relented and helped you grab the bottle of rice wine vinegar.
“Thanks,” you smiled as he set it in the cart.
After that you let him grab everything, content to stand on the end of the cart and push you around as you reminded him what else you needed.
“We’re out of Captain Crunch!” you remembered as he passed the cereal aisle, pointing to try to get him to turn.
“Yes, and we need to stay that way,” Bucky explained sternly, “that shit is addictive. Only way to avoid it is to not have it in the house.”
You frowned but accepted that he was absolutely right, though you groaned when he took you to the refrigerated section to stock up on chicken breasts. “I swear, you would eat these for breakfast if you didn’t think I’d judge you for it,” you joked.
“What’s wrong with chicken breasts?”
“They’re just so… bland!”
“Not if you season them right,” he corrected.
“Which you don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, at least splurge on some chicken thighs. They’re basically the same but so much more flavorful.”
“Fine, but no more making fun of my cooking,” Bucky decided, placing the breasts back on the shelf and grabbing two packs of thighs instead. “I’m still adapting to 21st century sensibilities.”
“Right,” you nodded, though he caught your smile in the corner of his eye— you knew he couldn’t exactly claim to still be as conservative as he was raised to be in every way.
Like any well-planned grocery run, it ended at the frozen section where you got some fruit bars and frozen vegetables (you had this theory that frozen vegetables tasted better in fried rice than fresh ones, and so far you’d proven him right) and he got a pizza to have for dinner in a pinch. When shopping alone before, he always did self-checkout to avoid being seen anymore than he had to… he still did it with you, but he didn’t even think about who might be looking at him, because all he saw was you.
You drove for this trip, and he always felt oddly soothed by riding passenger with you at the wheel. He liked to close his eyes and lean back a bit, or occasionally look over at you (but if he did it too much you complained that he was being creepy and distracting you). It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he enjoyed the feeling of you taking control, considering everything, but it was one of those little ways that he hadn’t expected. He just felt so comfortable, so safe with you, and never he felt like he was a burden for asking you to take the lead when he didn’t trust himself with it. And that applied to everything— driving, cooking, speaking up in crowds, all those little things that sometimes made him anxious.
There were some things he didn’t have any trouble being dominant about, though. He was very protective of you, for example, and tended to be uptight about how late you went out for walks or where you should be going alone. And he didn’t struggle to ask you for what he wanted— he was getting a lot better at asking for help, specifically.
He used to ask you to say that you loved him, instead of just saying ‘I love you’ himself, because for some reason it was easier to make you do it first. It started as something he’d beg for in the throes of passion, fingers digging into your skin as his eyes watered (as they often did in intimate moments): please, say you love me— jus’ need to hear you say it, please? And you were always sweet about it in return, of course I love you, James, my good boy, I love you so so much. But then he’d ask you to say it whenever he felt like it— he’d come up behind you while you were reading or cooking or something and kiss the top of your head or the shell of your ear and try to act nonchalant as he asked you love me, right?
You’d laugh and roll your eyes before you answered, but it was, thankfully, always a ‘yes.’ Eventually you figured out how often you needed to say it to make him stop asking all the time, which was probably a little too often.
“I love you,” you blurted out randomly as you turned on your signal and leaned a bit to make sure it was safe to make a left— case in point.
“I love you too,” he answered back with a smile.
“I don’t mind saying it so often,” you added, “but you know that I love you even when I’m not saying it, right? I love you all the time.”
It was a simple question, probably mostly rhetorical, but it hit him harder than he expected. “Yeah, I know,” he managed to get out evenly enough that you didn’t notice he was tearing up a bit.
He put the groceries away while you took the trash out; you liked to keep the fridge pretty organized, and it was an adjustment at first, but by now Bucky had it down pat. Before you, he hadn’t even considered that the contents of a refrigerator could be aesthetically pleasing.
Dinner was leftovers in front of the TV— you two were almost done with Frasier, but after that you had ten seasons of Friends to get through. You had tried to encourage him to watch more challenging stuff— you know, True Detective, Hannibal, dark cerebral stuff with arguably more artistic merit than classic sitcoms— but Bucky had had enough darkness in his life that he didn’t need it in his fiction. Maybe he’d find the time to catch up on the last 80 years of dramas and murder mysteries after he caught up on the last 80 years of comedy.
After dinner you were going to do yoga and Bucky, not in the mood to embarrass himself with that, retired to the bedroom a bit early to read his book— he’d heard a lot about this Harry Potter guy and now that he was on the fourth book and could hardly put it down, he understood the hype. He related a bit to the unwilling war hero in its protagonist; most of the time the series enthralled him, but occasionally something would hit too deep and he’d have to put it away for a couple days. At the moment, though, he was in one of the easy parts where it was just about schoolwork and childhood antics.
He instinctively glanced at the door when he heard you open it— he wasn’t sure how long it had been time-wise, but he’d gotten through quite a few pages— but he only quickly looked up at you as you shut the door behind you, before returning his attention to the book he was reading. “So, Bucky…” you began.
“Yeah?” he mumbled.
“James.”
It wasn’t any one thing that got his attention— not just the tone of your voice or the way it got a bit deeper, not just the look you gave him, not just the way the air of the room seemed to shift all at once. It was everything about you that made his body react instantly. He shut the book and set it aside, sitting up straight to look at you expectantly.
And you seemed to notice his instinctual obedience, considering you just barely smirked at him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke his reply: “Yes, Mistress?”
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your hq s/o walking in on you masturbating
includes: kenma, oikawa, ukai, kuroo
warnings: heavy smut, cursing, nsfw; degrading, praising, edging, teasing.
a/n: god this took so long for me to write, i hope y’all enjoy. i worked very hard on each character so be sure to read em all ;)
(female character descriptions)
kenma kozume
you sat with your legs criss-crossed on the plush comforter of your bed - your shared bed with your boyfriend. kenma was rarely ever away from you, his job required him to sit at home by his desk most days, trying out different video game graphics, typing up notes or ideas after trying said game. It wasn’t very often that his company called him in for a meeting, maybe once every few weeks.
alas, you still found yourself sitting here, alone on your giant bed, wondering what you’d do with your time. you came home, hours prior, yearning for your comfortable bed after a long day at work. and you certainly relished in those desires, taking a much-needed nap for a couple of hours. but now here you were, brightly awake, with an unusual warmth of desire in your stomach. you were unsure where the urge came from, considering your boyfriend wasn’t even home to tempt you. but it was still there, and it needed to be satiated.
so you began your mission, it had been quite a number of months since you last masturbated on your own. your lovely kenma was always by your side, always there to feed your cravings, masturbation wasn’t even a thought when you knew he was just a room away from you. you almost forgot your usual routine when it came to “doing the deed”.
first, you slipped out of your leggings, feeling the cold, but soft comforter tickle your bare legs. then, you snaked your hand up your stomach to your breast, fondling it as best as you could. funny, it didn't feel nearly as rewarding as it did when kenma did it. lastly, you picked up your phone from its spot next to you and began your search.
you searched a reliable porn site you used to use all the time, quickly finding a video that you knew would get you off quickly. you chewed your bottom lip as the video started, excitement building up from the depths of your core. as the video continued, you snuck your free hand down your stomach to your panties. hesitantly, you creeped your fingers under the elastic band of the soft cotton material and reached slowly for your folds. you gasped at your wetness, it was nothing remarkable, just a little surprising considering how quick you made this decision. you began stroking your clit, slowly to start, while still keeping your eyes on your screen. as the video continued on, you quickened the pace of your rubbing, swirling your juices around your clit with your two fingers. you didn’t realize how focused you were on your phone screen, till the sound of your bedroom door creaking open snapped you out of your daze.
yellow, cat-like eyes peered at your disheveled state in both shock and curiosity. you opened your mouth to say something, but was only able to let out a struggled mewl. his gaze was locked to your body, taking in your entire form, focused mainly on the hand buried in your panties, taking note of how your hand continued its motions, slowly. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.
a loud, choked moan vibrated from the phone in your hand, snapping both you and kenma out of your trance.
“I-i...” you scrambled for words as you quickly shut off the video and began retracting your hand from your panties.
kenma dashed towards you, animal-like instincts, and snatched your wrist in his grip, slowly putting your hand back in the spot it was formerly in.
“continue.” he said, voice laced with the deep desire you so fortunately get to see in him often. his gaze remained down at your body, instead of looking you in the eye. you simply nodded your head and continued your movements again. taking you by surprise yet again, kenma lifted your phone from your other hand and clicked play on the video again for you.
your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but soon your whole body was flushed from the euphoric feeling rising in your stomach. kenma held your phone up with one hand, watching you masturbate to whatever the hell was on there. he then took his other hand and pulled the cotton material covering your sex to the side, watching your glistening fingers work magic into your clit.
he decided he should help out a little bit, so he poked his warm, firm tongue out of his mouth and penetrated your cunt with it. you gasped at the contact, not expecting it since your eyes were trained on the screen. your movements became spastic as the twisting and curving of his tongue played with your insides wondrously. your body convulsed around his muscle, thighs squeezing and enclosing his head. the video you were watching was quick to end, but you couldn't care as you tossed your phone to the side and grabbed a handful of your boyfriend’s hair.
kenma’s assault on your cunt only became more intense as he felt you reaching your orgasm, walls pulsing around his tongue. you moaned in approval of his actions, bucking your hips for the friction of his nose against your clit. your high came shortly after, leaving you grasping kenma’s hair for dear life.
your chest rose and fell rapidly, waiting for your breathing to normalize again before you spoke. kenma plopped next to you on your bed, automatically snuggling his face into the crook of your neck.
“never leave home ever again.” you breathed out, a smile starting to form on your lips.
he simply just chuckled and said, “sounds like a deal to me.”
oikawa tooru
oikawa constantly had you on your toes, always watching and waiting for something to happen. with this, also came teasing, he was a huge flirt in general, everyone knew that, but when it came to you it was in every way worse.
you stared down at your phone, more specifically, at the text your boyfriend had sent you.
pretty, but you’d look prettier with the dress off and your legs spread for me <3
for context, you had went shopping earlier and sent a picture to oikawa of the new dress you were contemplating buying. of course, he was no help in your decision and only used the photo to helplessly fluster you. you sighed to yourself, guess it couldn't be helped.
but you hated to admit that the text hit you with a swarm of butterflies in the very pit of your stomach - you couldn't help but imagine your boyfriend in between your thighs, pulling the tight dress up your hips rather slow.
of course you had bought it, how could you not after reading that text.
part of you wanted to surprise him in it, let him come home to you laying in your bed with the dress tightly clung to you and a pair of matching high heels strapped on. unfortunately, reality reminded you that tooru would be practicing ‘til late tonight and you knew that all he would want is a warm bed to crash on, barely even making it to the shower.
so instead of bothering your already over-worked boyfriend, you decided to take matters into your own hands.
finishing your dinner alone at around 7pm, you cleaned yourself up and headed for the bedroom. you crawled across the smooth duvet cover on your bed, cold material rubbing against your bare legs. you situated yourself against two plush pillows, propping your torso up while parting your legs.
you pondered for a moment what you should do, it wasn’t an odd occurrence for you to be pleasuring yourself; tooru was out quite frequently because of his busy schedule. your confliction was caused by the fact that you simply wanted tooru, nothing else.
even so, you continued your actions; sliding your soft cotton shorts down your smooth and long legs. once situated, you grabbed your phone and searched for something hot to get you off. because you were feeling so touched starved, videos simply wouldn't do it for you today. you needed something more intimate; like the sound of a man’s voice in your ears, coaxing you to your orgasm, directing you to play with yourself how he wanted.
yeah, that would do it.
so you went to your very reliable (totally not reddit or anything) website and searched for something you knew you would like. a seemingly promising result caught your eye, and you proceeded to plug in your earbuds and adjust the volume of the video. you leaned back further into the pillows, trying to get comfortable enough to relax.
the video began and you couldn’t help but feel awkward, yeah the man’s voice was hot as hell - deep and seductive too, but something about it didn't feel right considering you had a boyfriend, with a much nicer voice.
oh fuck it, you thought.
there was no secret rule against this, it was basically the same as porn, only it felt nicer because the plot was directed towards you and your orgasm. you felt more at ease with yourself - and with the video. the voice playing was smooth and relaxing.
you slowly began to move your fingers as instructed - or should I say demanded, whilst also bringing your left hand up to palm your breast through the thin material of your shirt. you were now working both your clit and your breasts, the feeling of warmth beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach.
the voice commanded you to begin fingering yourself - in his words; to “bury your fingers deep in that little cunt of yours”, and who were you to disobey?
you did exactly as instructed, indulging your fingers deep - well, as deep as they could go - inside the warmth of your core. you received praises from the man, calling you names of which you most certainly enjoyed. this encouraged you pump yourself faster, all while your left hand toyed with your breast through your shirt. surprisingly, your hands made a dream team, you hadn't felt this amazing masturbating in so long. it was like the voice in your ears was real and the hands on your body weren't your own, but someone else’s.
what you failed to realize was, down the hallway from your bedroom, your boyfriend was putting his bags down on the kitchen table and approaching your room - where he heard your soft moans coming from.
tooru wandered over to your bedroom, both curious and confused. the way you were moaning, he wondered if he’d find another man on top of you. he decided to bite back his nerves and enter the room quietly, inching the door open with caution. his head poked through the small gap of the doorway that was now exposed, peering over at your writhing body to see that you were in fact alone. oikawa let out a small sigh of relief at this, but then noticed that you were still unaware of his presence and that your ears occupied a set of wireless earbuds. the man smirked to himself, now somewhat aware of what you were doing.
he cleared his throat obnoxiously, immediately turning your attention over to him and releasing the breast in your hand almost shamefully. you opened your mouth to say something, but tooru quickly cut you off.
“my my, what do we have here?” his voice was low and taunting as he took slow strides over to your bed.
“tooru, i was just-”
“playing with yourself, my dear?” he chuckled and took a seat next to you on the bed, “that much i can see for myself. just to what would that be, is the question.”
your face burned in embarrassment and regret, knowing he would manage to squeeze the answer out of you.
“you- you weren’t home, and i...needed something...”, your voice trailed off as you glanced down at your phone, the audio was paused, but not for long.
oikawa seemed to have caught on to your implications and in one swift movement, snatched both your phone and your right earbud from your possession.
“tooru, please-”
your boyfriend made a tsk tsk noise with his tongue, “nuh uh, what makes you think you get to enjoy this alone? honestly, it looks to me like you’re having a lot of fun-” he gestured to your hand which was deeply buried in your panties, “-and i wanna join in on the fun too.” his voice was low and laced with seduction now, his eyes dark and taunting as his face was merely inches away from yours.
your chest heaved with heavy contractions, stomach full of butterflies and warmth. you could barely muster out a word, so you stuck with a brisk nod. tooru smirked and plugged the earbud in at your approval, then clicked the audio back on.
the audio was halfway finished, so the man’s instructions were even more intense than you wanted oikawa to hear.
“that’s right you little slut, be a good girl and keep fucking that little cunt for me, yeah?”
your eyes widened in embarrassment, quickly scanning tooru’s face for any sign of laughter. what shocked you more was the dark expression on his face now, hidden with a deadly smirk on his lips.
“c’mon baby, do what he’s telling you to do.”
“good girl, that my good little slut.”
the mix of the voices overstimulated your senses, your embarrassment soon turned into a wicked desire. you began pumping yourself harder, hand coming back up to grope you breast. your eyes closed shut and your moans began escalating again.
you weren’t sure what you boyfriend was planning on doing next, but you felt the pressure of the bed go down as he switched spots from next to you to in between your legs.
the audio kept encouraging you to pump faster, enticing more moans to spill from your lips. the feeling of a warm, moist tongue pressing against your clit made your eyes shoot open and your head jerk up to see tooru with his head in between your thighs.
“what? am I not allowed to help?” he quizzed you with a tone laced with teasing.
you let your head fall back onto the pillow as oikawa took his time lapping at your clit. your fingering stuttered, but never ceased as the voice of a man and the tongue of your man continued to pleasure you. the audio was nearing an end and you felt yourself also nearing an orgasm. oikawa pushed your hand so your fingers went even deeper than they already were, this earned a whimpering gasp from you. you looked down at your partner to see his eyes were locked with yours, tongue poking out to lick at your swollen clit. you felt your walls clenching around your fingers at the sight, voice in your ear aiding in it too.
“look at you, so helpless, getting off to some guys’ voice? such a needy little whore, aren't you?”
you felt all the oxygen in your lungs leave your body, fingers growing stiff inside of you. your boyfriend’s words tugged at something inside of you, an animalistic version of you deep down that needed to be freed.
tooru smirked up at you, perfectly aware of his effect on you. his tongue withdrawing from inside his mouth to lap you up for the hundredth time.
“how pathetic, were you that desperate for an orgasm that you resulted to audio porn?”
“good girl, that’s my good little girl, cry out for me.”
you felt your orgasm coming like a tidal wave, the two voices overstimulating your senses once again.
“that’s so fucking embarrassing, your own fingers are barely enough to please you anymore. you need my tongue to help you.”
“that’s right, come for me, come around those pretty little fingers of yours.”
“yeah? you're gonna be an obedient little slut and come for for him? listen to his orders like he’s your daddy, right?”
and you did.
with a final whine of pleasure, your body violently rocked itself through your orgasm. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your back arched into air helplessly. your fingers slowed down on their movements, eventually coming to a slow finish. you breathed heavily, chest heaving as the ringing in your ears quieted down. all that could be heard in the room was the thick silence in the air and your contracted breathing.
tooru slowly approached the spot next to you on the bed from his former position between your legs, lying next to your disheveled form. once your body had calmed itself down a bit more, your retracted your hands from their position and turned toward your lover, resting your head on his shoulder.
“well, I certainly did not expect to come home to that.” tooru chuckled lightly.
you quickly dove your face into the side of his neck, hiding in mortification.
“god, I'm so embarrassed.” you mumbled into his skin.
oikawa only laughed louder, earning a light slap on his arm.
“come on, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of that.”
“you know I did, that’s why I'm embarrassed!” you lifted your head from his neck to retort back.
he only shook his head and laughed again, wrapping his arm around your body to keep you warm.
“why did you come home so early, anyway?”
“well practice ended early because the team wanted to go out to dinner for a sort-of, congratulations for doing so good in our last match. that team we went up against was really hard, remember?”
“yes, I do. so why didn't you go!” you suddenly jerked your head up to scold your boyfriend.
“because...I'd much rather be home with you celebrating. besides, I thought that text I sent you was a hint of what I wanted to do with you tonight.” his voice trailed off quietly.
“oh god, I thought you were just being a damn tease like always! that’s why I took matters into my own hands.”
tooru propped himself up on one elbow, facing you.
“c’mon, you know damn well you enjoy my teasing. plus who says we can't go for a round two?” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and gestured at the rising tent under his sweatpants that was nearly poking your leg.
you smirked, looking back up into your boyfriend’s eyes.
“i guess that can be arranged, but it’s my turn to tease, i've had enough of your teasing for one day.”
before he could protest, you were on top of him straddling his waist, hands holding his arms up over his head.
“fine by me.”
ukai keishin
coming home from a long day at work, you plopped down your bags and ran your fingers through your hair. ukai was working the late shift at his convenience store like he usually did on weekdays, and he probably hadn’t eaten anything besides snacks since lunch this noon. your body was tired and sweaty, but you motivated yourself with the idea of a hot shower to keep you up on your feet for a bit longer. as quick as you could, you whipped up a plate of steamed dumplings and rice for you and your fiancé to eat. once satisfied with your work, you left the meal on top of the stove with a glass cover on top to keep it warm.
hot shower hot shower hot shower you chanted to yourself, reminding yourself of your reward for the long day you had. you went to your bedroom first to quickly strip, tossing the restricting clothes away into a hamper. afterwards, you entered your bathroom - now naked, a chill ran over your body. you turned the knob of the shower to the left, far to the left, making the water spring to life and begin to heat up.
after a few moments of waiting for the steamy-hot water to rush out, you took a step into the tub. immediately, your muscles relaxed under the flow of the hot water, your skin burned a little at the sensation too. you sat under the water for a good 30 minutes; lathering your soft skin with foamy body wash, scrubbing at your scalp and rinsing the stress of a long day off your body. the shower was full of steam and the sweet scents of all the soap you used.
you exited the shower after feeling fully clean and content, wrapping a dry towel around your head to hold your drenched hair. you dried your body off with another towel and slipped a soft robe around your form, before approaching your room.
following after brushing through your damp hair, you slid on an over-sized t-shirt from your closet, probably one of ukai’s without realizing. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you walked toward your dresser, you admired the way the t-shirt showed off the shape of your breasts and hugged your hips. you took a step back to appreciate your form a minute more, becoming seemingly more and more confident in your looks by the second. it had clearly been awhile since you felt confident in yourself, your teenage days were over and adulthood was settling into your appearance.
still, for the first time in awhile, you thought you looked damn good.
a flame ignited in your belly, a flame you had not felt in a long time. you usually tended to ignore said flame, because you simply did not have the time to deal with it.
but today was so draining and you had not done this in so long. surely you deserved a reward, right?
yes, yes you did. a hot shower alone simply was not enough of a prize for the type of day you had.
you crawled onto the bed and sat against your pillow, spreading your legs for yourself in front of the mirror across the room. grateful you had not put on underwear yet, you reached down to touch your bare petals. you weren’t wet yet, but it didn't take you long to get there, not with that mirror in front of you.
you watched yourself from the spot on your bed, grabbing your bare breast underneath your shirt as you started rubbing lazy circles around your clit. you found yourself soon more relaxed than not, giving in to your suppressed desires. you began to imagine you weren’t alone on your bed, that your future husband with there with you; crawling in-between your legs. you moaned at the thought, eyes fluttering close in a daze.
you thought about him grabbing you by your thighs, holding on to them as he made out with your sloppy, wet pussy. you imagined the sounds, his vibrating moans, your wet slick being lapped up and sucked on.
your was sex dripping with your cum now, and you watched yourself in the mirror with hooded lids, vividly imaging your husbands head and back facing the ceiling. you could even see the details of his back muscles contracting and relaxing as he continued aggressively devouring you.
your thoughts were paused when you heard the front door open, your eyes widened, but remained glued to the image of your body.
your fingers hadn’t ceased their movements either.
“honey, i'm home” ukai teased in his “i'm-a-loving-husband-who-brings-home-the-bacon” voice. something you both found funny ever since you got engaged.
you made no sound, too afraid you voice would come out in a squeal.
you heard his footsteps go into the living room, before his voice called out again, “baby?”
you decided to play around and not answer again, leaving him no choice but to find you himself. you continued rubbing your clit as you stared at yourself in the mirror, biting your lip to hold back an excited grin. as ukai’s steps got closer to the door, you found yourself indulging a finger into your core. then, one turned into two. and you found yourself having to hold back your moans, as he was so close to entering your room.
a mere second passed before keishin was strolling into your room, looking for his beloved fiancé. he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on you, two fingers plunged into your pussy, all whilst staring at your reflection in the mirror.
he exhaled through his teeth before saying, “princess, what’s this?”
you tilted your head to the side, gazing at the man before you with half-lidded eyes.
“what does it look like, daddy?” your fingers maintained their rapid pace.
keishin was enthralled with the scene before him - not wanting to move an inch so he could continue watching you, while also wanting to pounce on you like a caged animal.
he decided to just slowly creep over to you, long strides taunting you from your spot on the bed. he kneeled on the mattress, beginning to crawl closer and closer to you. your gazes were locked on each other, all while your fingers kept their assault on your core.
“you look so pretty baby, touching yourself like that in our big ole’ bed.”
you only bit your lip in response, eyes trailing back to the mirror in front of you. keishin followed your glance, now also looking at the reflection of you two.
he scoffed, “what a little slut you are, getting off to yourself in the mirror.”
a shaky breath left your mouth at his words, before he turned to you again and propped himself up on his elbow.
why isn't he doing anything?? you couldn't help but think.
“go on, don't worry about me. I wanna see you keep playing with yourself, just like that.” it was like he read your thoughts.
you became a little frustrated, you were hoping he was going to join in on your “play time”. even so, you persisted, trying to dig deep for an orgasm. you continued staring at the mirror, watching keishin watch you. it was fucking hot - but you needed more.
“ ’shin...” you whined out, tilting your head to look at him.
“what? is my princess having trouble?”
you nodded your head.
he clicked his tongue, “that’s too bad isn't it? my little girl started this herself, now she’s got to be the one to finish it.” he punctuated his words by leaning in closer and closer, his hot breath on your face felt too nice.
you understood what you had to do, cum for him once and then he’d finally join you for a second time, but you were so damn touch starved. it’s one thing to be alone and touch starved, it’s another to be with the person you want to touch you, just for them not to.
you bit down on your lip as you pounded into yourself harder and faster, fingers reaching deep to hit your sweet spot. you tried and tried, but to no avail. your breathing was rigid now, frustration marked on your forehead, all while keishin sat and watched you like a sly motherfucker.
he hadn’t even taken an inch of clothes off, and he wasn't even palming himself through his sweats.
tears of frustration dribbled down your cheeks, there was no warmth in your stomach, no clench to your core, just the cum that dripped down your folds - and that was only from the mindless finger-fucking you were doing.
“poor baby, are your fingers not enough? can they not satisfy you the way my cock can?” keishin’s voice was low and his breath caused goosebumps to rise on your neck and cheek. you leaned into his warm touch as he wiped the tears off your face.
“p-please.” you begged.
“please what? use your words, princess.”
“please- please help me cum.”
keishin laughed in your face, making your cheeks glow a bright red.
“so fucking pathetic, can't even cum with your own fingers. what happened to that tough girl act you had on before, huh? when I caught you playing with your pussy to your reflection in the mirror.”
he leaned in closer, lips barely grazing your ear.
“-where did that little slut go? you’re so desperate now, it’s not even funny.”
a wave of pleasure took over your body, and you finally understood that he was helping you cum, he just didn’t even have to touch you.
“daddy- please...” you begged for more.
“there’s my slut, there she fucking is. i bet you were just waiting for me to come home earlier; you were waiting for your daddy with your cunt wrapped around your little fingers, legs spread - practically begging to be caught.”
you let out a loud moan, core clenching around your fingers as you felt your orgasm approaching. keishin tugged at the fabric of your shirt, before pulling it up to reveal your breasts.
he scoffed, “even wearing my shirt, huh? bet you couldn't wait to stain it with your cum. you dirty little girl, i’ll make you clean up every last drop of yourself with your tongue”
you were already so close, but keishin’s words and the way he pinched your erect nipple with his thumb and middle finger - really pushed you to the edge.
“cum, cum for me you fucking whore.”
with one final drawn out moan, you came around your fingers and all over the bed. keishin didn’t even let you calm down from your high, he was already in-between your legs getting ready to lick up your slick.
you tried to push his head away - your body was still so sensitive from the orgasm, but you knew that the night wouldn’t end without ukai overstimulating you, as he always does. you both knew each other’s boundaries, and this was definitely acceptable - but it was still part of the act for you to resist.
“keishin, please. i'm too sensitive.”
he ignored your words, pinning your wrists up above your head to get your hands out of his way. you complied, but still writhed in his grasp. ukai brought his head down to meet your pussy, shoving his nose harshly into your sensitive clit, before plunging his tongue deep in your walls.
you screamed at the rough contact, your ass threatened to lift up from the bed - but keishin put a firm arm down on your body to ensure that you were going nowhere.
he continued licking out your insides, moaning into your clit. one hand was holding your stomach down and the other was roaming your left breast, fondling the perked nipple in-between his fingers.
you couldn’t help the bodily convulsions you were having, you had already felt so close and he was just starting. you glanced up to watch your reflection in the mirror, smirking back at yourself after remembering how only 15 minutes ago you were imagining this scenario unfolding.
ukai began licking you with more fervor, his tongue moving up to toy with your clit, whilst two fingers plunged into your hole all at once, making up for any contact lost.
you groaned, arching your back so that your pussy was pressed against his face. ukai moaned into your core, licks becoming a sloppy mess.
“you taste so fucking lovely, feels like i haven’t ravaged you in way too fucking long.” ukai groaned his words into your sex, causing all sorts of vibrations to be let loose.
you were close, so close, your moans were becoming more rapid and you couldn’t hold back your hands from tugging into keishin’s hair. he didn't seem to mind it either.
you were pushed over the edge at the feeling of keishin’s lips sucking at your clit, the sensation being way too much for your over-stimulated pussy to handle. it also didn't help that his lidded gaze locked with yours in the exact moment that his lips wrapped around your little bud. you ground against his face as your cum made its new home all over his chin and all over the bed.
the two of you breathed heavily for a few seconds, staring into eachother’s eyes for what felt like forever.
“you’re so fucking good.” you spoke first, words coming out choked and breathless.
he chucked, “yeah, it helps that you taste fucking delicious.”
you giggled at his words, making it sound like you were a fucking plate of dumplings or something-
“did you see the dinner? I made dinner!” you sat up excitedly, suddenly remembering the meal that you made.
“baby, i think i’ve had my dinner.” ukai smirked up at you.
you weren't taking any sexy jokes, not after you remembered your yummy dinner.
“nope, get up. i did not slave over a stove for nothing.” you bounced off the bed, still naked.
keishin rolled his eyes at you, “we coulda just ordered in ya know?”
“hush.” you playfully hit him on the shoulder, before putting his shirt back over your torso and leading him into the kitchen.
after padding into the kitchen, keishin spoke up.
“you know, I meant what said. about you getting cum on my shirt, and licking it clean.” there was a playful smile on his lips as he crossed his arms and faced you.
“I didn't even get cum on your shirt, asswipe.”
“not yet, but I'm nowhere near through with you tonight, princess.”
kuroo testurou
the red blinking numbers on your alarm clock glowed directly in front of your face, mocking you. 3:32A.M. it told you. you had been tossing and turning for the past 3 hours, how did this happen?
next to you, your husband kuroo was comfortably snoring, his breathing a steady rhythm. normally, the noise itself would lull you to sleep, but tonight your body was wide awake, antsy about something. you had already gone to the kitchen for a glass of milk an hour ago, a trick your mother taught you as a child. irritated, you glanced at the empty glass next to your bed, clearly it didn’t work anymore. it only made you have to pee, twice.
you gently flipped onto your back, careful not to wake your soundly sleeping husband, god knew he had to wake up at 6am for work.
you laid there, flat on your back as you stared up at the ceiling; wide eyed and fully awake. you wondered what other remedies you could do to force sleep on yourself. you could chew some melatonin - but you were sure you’d never bought melatonin in your life, you never had a reason to. you drew in a long breath, letting it out in a sigh. meditation? counting sheep? hot tea? – no, you didn’t want any more trips to the bathroom keeping you up.
then a brilliant thought crossed your pretty little mind; masturbation. you almost snorted out loud at the sheer sincerity of it. shifting around a little bit, you rested your hand over your lower stomach - almost teasing the idea of it. your fingers crept lower, now fingering the hem of your cotton shorts. then proceeded to slip your fingers past both the shorts and your underwear. you quickly peered over at your sleeping husband, a wild nest of black hair spread across his pillow. you smiled in admiration, he’s always slept like a rock, usually an arm anchored around you - preventing you from getting out of bed. that same arm was now stuffed under his pillow, you had learned the ways of escaping kuroo’s giant arms long ago.
you paid mind back to your situation at hand, continuing the creeping of your hand further down your skin. you sighed at the feeling of your fingers grazing over your slit, instinctively spreading your legs slightly for better access. you began rubbing at your now exposed clit; slow circular motions. you bit your lip at the newfound warmth bubbling in your stomach, a feeling you’ve always enjoyed.
your husband stirred slightly in his sleep, head now facing yours. you froze slightly, but let out a sigh of relief when his snoring continued. his jet black hair covered his face, only allowing you to see his lips; which were parted as he snored. you almost thought he looked cute, so tempted to run your fingers through his hair. you decided against it, not wanting to wake the poor man up.
your sex started growing quite wet - quicker than you thought it would. maybe it was the idea that what you were doing...so close to your sleeping husband-
-was so dirty.
you bit down on your bottom lip and quickened the pace of your motions, rubbing your little clit with more pressure from your fingertips.
still, you wished it was your husband’s tongue instead of your fingers. lapping up your slick and prodding at your sweet spot. you moaned softly, quickly biting your lip again to suppress the sound. fortunately, your husband stayed asleep.
you started pumping your middle finger into your cunt, needing more friction to finish you off. the action caused you to moan louder, although you really tried to hold them back. and if it weren't your moans that woke your husband up - it was the arching of your back and bucking of your hips, causing the mattress to dip in your spot.
you didn't notice him though, you didn't notice his eyelids fluttering open behind the shaggy head of hair he had, covering his eyes. he laid like that for a good minute, watching you writhe under your own hand, beginning to grab your bare breast from under your shirt. sleep still clouded his head - making his thoughts a bit foggy, but he was becoming more aware of your upcoming climax by the second. you were so far gone you didn't even realize his snoring coming to a halt, your mind was filled with the most lewd fantasies of kuroo pleasuring you in your bed.
when you felt yourself coming close to a climax, a large hand paused your movements by grabbing your wrist. you let out a small yelp, out of pure surprise and terror. you looked over at your husbands form, he was propping himself up on his elbow and jerking his head back a bit to get a better look of you, a smug smirk growing on his lips. his messy hair only covered his left eye now, and you could see the dark hues of his right eye practically glistening, looking down at you with a dark intensity.
“test-”
“i hope i'm not interrupting you, my sneaky girl.” his voice was sleepy and one whole octave lower than it was during the day.
“no, you're not...um. i had trouble sleeping baby.”
he gave you a knowing look and pulled back the blanket that covered his torso, exposing to you his flexed abs.
“and you couldn't ask me for help?” he began creeping over to your frozen body, still halfway under the covers.
“you were sleeping, dummy.” you squinted at him.
“name calling? well baby, two can play at that game.” he got fully on top of you, then proceeded to sink himself back under the covers, until only his head was poking out.
“let me help my chibi-chan out, yeah?” he drawled out the name slowly, knowing just the kind of reaction you'd have.
“testu, you have work in 3 hours, i-”
kuroo rolled his eyes at you, before fully submerging his head below the blanket. your hand was still in your pants, it had seized its movement, but it still remained there almost frozen. kuroo pulled the inconvenient hand out of his way, tugging down your cotton shorts immediately after. you felt unsure what he’d do next, considering you couldn't see him.
after your shorts were long gone, you didn’t feel anything for a few seconds. you perked your head up from its position on your pillow almost ready to call out your lover’s name. you were quickly stopped when you felt a long stroke from his tongue to your wet slit.
you threw your head back, a long moan escaping your mouth. the ecstasy from the feeling of his tongue unexpectedly replacing your fingers was unimaginable. you writhed beneath his mouth, his arms instinctively going to wrap around your thighs, anchoring you down in your place. his tongue continued its assault with an immense amount of pressure; pushing the muscle deep into your hole, then bringing it out to run circles around your clit. you already felt your body closing in on its orgasm. you had gotten yourself pretty far earlier and your husband was only getting you further. kuroo felt your tightening core around his muscle, and he slowed down his tongue movements - ultimately trying to edge you.
and you certainly felt on edge, that was for sure.
your eyes widened at his suddenly slow pace, looking down at the lump of his body covered by the thick blanket. you knew he was getting warm down there, but this was kuroo for crying out loud; this man would go on for hours if he wanted to.
you felt his grip around your thighs tighten as you bucked your pelvis into his face, demanding a little bit more friction. to your dismay, he gave you the absolute opposite of that; digging his nails lightly into your plush skin to almost warn you not to be impatient. you whined under his tongue, the feeling of slow circular motions was driving you crazy. you were about ready to suffocate his face with your pussy - underneath the already claustrophobic blankets.
kuroo suddenly sped up his pace again, planning on bringing you close to another high. and maybe if he was feeling nice, he’d let you come this time. he added two fingers to pulse into your sopping wet cunt as he licked away at your clit and your folds - lewd noises escaping through the small holes between the blanket and the bed. he continued pumping you ‘til he felt your walls begin to clench again, squeezing his two fingers tightly together. he immediately pulled them out.
you gasped at the loss of contact, this time you were really ready to rip the blanket off this man and yell straight in his face. but to your surprise, kuroo submerged himself from under the blanket to meet you face to face.
“having fun, chibi-chan?” he smirked down at your pouting face.
“i was.” you accentuated your words with a roll of your eyes.
kuroo chucked, then grabbed your cheeks in his hand and squeezed them.
“hey, who said you could give me an attitude, huh? you should be thankful that i’m pleasuring you at this hour.” his voice was deep and laced with lust. you know his actions would soon contradict his words, so you played along.
“want some kind of award? oh, i’m so glad my husband edged me at 3am! when i could’ve came and went to sleep already! thank you truly-“
kuroo’s eyes went dark; knowing this game all too well. his hands went from your cheeks to around your throat in a mere second.
“watch your fucking mouth, brat, or you won’t be coming at all tonight.”
you smirked up at him, knowing you got him where you wanted. kuroo pulled down his boxers from his position between your legs and began pumping his half-erect member. you simply sat back and watched him. after a moment, he lined himself up with your core, slightly adjusting his position to get closer to you.
“someone’s taking their sweet time.” you had to bite back a laugh at your own statement.
“patience is virtue, chibi-chan. or did you forget that i could simply stop here and go back to sleep?” kuroo tested you.
“whatever you say, sir.” you looked deep into his eyes, not an ounce of satire in your voice.
kuroo licked his lips devishly, any hint of tiredness he had felt before was long gone now. he pushed his cock deep into your core, bottoming out all at once. your back arched instantly at the feeling of his cock already pressing against your cervix.
“think you can take me, little one?” kuroo smirked down at your face, which was contoured in pleasure and slight discomfort from taking his cock all at once.
“know i can. start moving grandpa, i’m not getting any younger here.” you teased his slow pace.
he raised an eyebrow at you, “you asked for it.” and began shoving himself in and out of you at the speed of fucking light.
you threw your head back in ecstasy, the feeling of his “larger-than-most” cock would never get old to you - no matter how long you two have been together. he almost always stretched you out to unimaginable points.
“test-testu.” you whined out, tongue beginning to loll out of your mouth.
“that’s mr. kuroo to you, little one.” the muscles of his biceps were starting to tense up as he continued fucking you senseless.
you could barely whine out a response, his cock was already so close to pushing you past your breaking point. he made matters worse by bringing a hand down to play with your clit, only to retract that hand and slap your pussy with it, tauntingly. he knew exactly what kind of response he’d get from that, as you wail out from under him.
“i’m so close...” you almost regretted saying that in fear that he’d just pull out and go to sleep. but you knew better that he already sensed you were close without you having to say anything.
he smirked from his position on top of you, black hair falling in a mess over his face as he tilted his head down to look at you better.
“so am i.” he groaned into your ear as he inched his body closer to yours, your erect nipples practically brushing against his bare chest through your thin shirt.
your core tightened as your climaxed reached itself. you dug your nails into the bare skin on kuroo’s back for support, he barely even hissed in pain at the sensation. your hips bucked as your orgasm took over your whole body, legs shaking from the aftermath of the intense high. your husband fucked you through your orgasm relentlessly, seeking to find his own orgasm. he came shortly after you, deeply groaning into your ear - the noise had goosebumps rising all over your body.
“always so fucking good, chibi-chan.” his eyes were half-lidded, as were yours.
your chest heaved as you began to calm down from your high. kuroo pulled himself out of you and quickly retreated to the bathroom to get some towels to clean you guys up.
but when he got back you were already half asleep, cuddled into his pillow, inhaling his fresh, yet musky scent. he smiled down at you, a towel still in hand.
you mumbled to him, sleep nearly taking over you, “thank you, baby~”
#kenma kozume#kuroo testuro#oikawa tooru#oikawa toru#ukai keishin#kenma smut#kuroo smut#oikawa smut#ukai smut#hq smut#hq smau#haikyuu smut#haikyuu smau#haikyuu x reader#oikawa x fem!reader#kuroo x fem!reader#ukai x reader#kenma x fem!reader#haikyuu!!
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Million Dollar Man | chapter two
18+
summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.
Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)
word count: 3.4K
a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est
Chapter Two | Masterlist
She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.
Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.
Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.
She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.
All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.
She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.
But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.
He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”
He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”
She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”
He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.
She doesn’t accept it just yet.
It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.
“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”
He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.
Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”
“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”
Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”
She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”
Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.
It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.
“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.
“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”
“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.
She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”
“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.
“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”
“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”
“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”
“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”
“Yes please,” she smiles.
“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”
“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.
—
They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.
Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.
For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.
He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.
He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.
They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.
“How many gifts is this now?”
“We’re at 5 out of 24.”
She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”
“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.
“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.
The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.
“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”
“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.
“He lets her choose,” he whispers.
“He rescues her,” she corrects him.
“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.
It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”
“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.
“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”
“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.
“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”
She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”
“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”
“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”
She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”
“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”
“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.
“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”
She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”
He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”
“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”
He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.
As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”
He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…
“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.
“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”
With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.
“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”
“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.
“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”
He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”
She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”
He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”
He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.
She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.
“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”
He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”
“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”
Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.
She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.
“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.
“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”
“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.
“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”
“Daddy’s girl.”
He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.
She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.
He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”
“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.
“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”
For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.
“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”
“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.
She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”
“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”
“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.
“Only if you let me wash the front too?”
She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.
Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.
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Sugar daddy fic (Some tags didn't work)
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i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah
hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you
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Unsent Letters
To:
Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?
To: Bu
Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.
His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.
To: My astronaut
How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…
Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.
I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.
Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.
“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”
And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.
He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.
The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.
-
For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.
It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.
He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.
His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.
He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.
He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.
“Nat?”
Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”
Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”
“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”
“What?”
“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”
“I don’t want--”
“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”
Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.
“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.
He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.
They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.
“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”
Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”
Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.
The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.
-
To: Mr. Sweet Tooth
You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.
Love, Mr. Boring
-
Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.
The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.
Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.
He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.
He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.
Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.
But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.
-
To: JB
im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please
-
The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.
Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.
Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.
He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.
Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.
And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.
Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.
To: Bucky
And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.
I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.
Love, Steve.
He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.
-
“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”
Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.
Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”
And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.
“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”
But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.
“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”
He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.
“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”
Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”
Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.
“I didn’t use your name.”
“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”
Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.
“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.
My astronaut
The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.
They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.
“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”
Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”
Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”
“... More like two.”
Bucky hums. “Are there others?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.
Mr. Sweet Tooth
Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.
“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”
Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.
“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”
“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”
Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.
He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.
He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.
“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.
Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.
Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”
Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”
“Why not?”
“I wrote it after DC.”
He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.
“Oh.”
“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”
Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.
“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”
Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.
-
There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.
Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.
To: My Bucky
Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.
I love you with everything I have.
Love, your Steve
Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.
-
anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely
#i did not proofread this at all so i just kNOW im going to read this back later and find a whole bunch of typos oops#stucky#stucky fic#steve rogers#bucky barnes#idiots in love#sad stevie aw
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I'm sorry if I already requested this of you I honestly have the memory of a walnut. But can I request headcannons of the boys + dia who find out MC has an emotionally abusive husband? Like fluff with some murder maybe?
thank you
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Additional Tags: abusive relationship mentioned, some are a bit murdery, I don't know how to write fluff for such a situation but I tried
A/N: If you are in an abusive situation in the USA and need to speak to someone, please call 1-800-799-7233. If you cannot call, you can also text “START” to 88788. If it is safe for you, you can also go to the website directly. Abuse takes many forms, but it is always about control.
Feel free to add the numbers/contact for other countries if you have them.
Lucifer
He got upset at MC once and they flinched when he yelled and they started apologizing like there was no tomorrow. That was how he found out something was wrong. They wouldn’t say anything, but he could tell that something was deeply wrong. Perhaps he had never noticed before the formation of their pact how MC shuddered around him whenever he got upset, but now he did.
He is very careful not to yell again and when he does he is quick to lower his voice the second MC shows distress, reassuring them that he is not angry at them and would not harm them. It sounds almost hollow after how he acted when they originally met, but he means it.
There was one time MC dropped a dish on the floor while cooking and it broke, spilling hot food everywhere. They started picking up the pieces in a hurry, not even paying attention to how the hot shards burned and cut up their hands.
Lucifer was quick to pick them up off the ground and tend to the fresh injuries, all while they kept apologizing and saying that they would clean it up as soon as they could and saying they would make something else. Lucifer forbade them from doing either and cleaned the mess himself. He did that a lot. Took care of their ‘mistakes’ and cared for them. They would almost believe he wasn't the same terrifying man they had first met.
It takes a long time for MC to get used to their new relationship with Lucifer and once they do they are far more comfortable and less skittish.
He is not pressuring the story out of them. He can wait, as difficult as it is, for them to open up. However, he is no fool. He knows who is to blame, and that man should be very afraid should Lucifer and he ever meet.
Mammon
MC always spoke so well of their husband when they first met the brothers. Mammon was actually jealous and wished MC would talk about him that way. They would always say how kind their husband was and how he loved them and how he wanted the best for them. It sounded like some kind of cheesy romance novel.
Things started to get weird though when he and MC started to get even closer. He would invite them out, only to hear “I don’t think my husband would like that” or “I shouldn’t be alone with you”. It was weird the first time, but it quickly became a pattern. A very worrying pattern. Mammon knew abuse when he saw it. He was the family butt monkey and a witch punching bag, after all.
The difference is that he’s a fallen angel that is used to such treatment and, as a demon, the things done to him do very little in the long run. Humans are far more fragile though; their minds, bodies, and hearts. And then Mammon started to hate MC’s husband with a passion that could not be matched.
He cared less about making that bastard pay and more about taking care of MC. Such treatment can ruin a person, especially good people like MC. He would do anything to show them that they deserved better than that man, whatever that eventually meant.
Leviathan
He and MC have a little too much in common for his taste. It is actually almost disgusting how little self-worth they seem to have, but he can also see how that was trained into them.
They play down their worth a lot: “It’s nothing”, “It could be better”, “I failed again”, etc. They never say anything positive about themself. They are really good at picking out their flaws, but almost incapable of pointing out their merits.
It goes against everything Levi believes in, but he has to start praising them since they won’t praise themself. He likes hanging out with them, the stuff they make is nice, they are a really quick learner. It feels weird to praise someone, but it’s nice to see MC start to feel a little better about all the things they do.
Although, he also has the mild thought of showing MC’s husband that there are more terrifying things in the world than the horrors a human is capable of. After all, Levi has seen the monsters that dwell in the deep; he is one of those monsters and there is a reason humans fear the darkest depths.
Satan
There are some wonderful upsides to being the avatar of wrath. Normally, Satan wouldn't be so crass as to give into them, but sometimes humanity is just so vile that he can't help himself.
One of those upsides is a mind filled to the brim with the instinctual desire to rip and tear anything he can get his hands on to pieces. It's an instinct he fights off constantly with his centuries of training and self-discovery, but just this once he doesn't mind becoming the beast he was born as.
MC's husband squeals like a stuck pig throughout the entire night, only the winds, spiders, and Satan being able to hear and appreciate the sound. And appreciate it he does, until the screaming stops and his hands are drenched with blood.
He really needs to get himself cleaned off before he sees MC again, otherwise they will be terrified. He needs to look his best when they come running to him worried about their missing husband. It’s sad how much they worry about him despite everything.
Asmodeus
MC was always so calm and docile when he wanted to spend time with them. He didn’t really get it at first but it was easier to dress them up and take them out, so he didn’t question it. At least, not until someone (read: Solomon) not so subtly pointed out that it is unusual for someone to be so passive, almost to the point of being doll-like.
Asmo didn’t believe it at first. How could anyone treat someone as sweet as MC so cruelly, especially someone that is supposed to love them? But from that day onward, his eyes were opened up and he started to notice things.
The way they didn’t put forth their own opinions and let him take the lead on everything, how they stuck close to him when they both went out, the subtle way their fingers reached out then drew back when they liked something.
“Do you like it?” He would ask and their response was “do you?”
It was so difficult to get them to start putting their own wants and desires above what they thought he’d like. When they showed interest in something, he would fawn all over it. If they liked something, he liked it too. He would buy them things they even glanced casually at, told them they were worthwhile and lovely, anything that other man would never say to them.
He tore them down so completely, but Asmo would work tirelessly to build them back up.
Beelzebub
He is the softest man in the world, and sometimes MC just lets things slip out. He’s very easy to open up to and they don’t think about what they say. He was the first person that they opened up to about what was happening to them.
Suffice it to say, Beel was shocked when they mentioned how terrified they were for the exchange program to end. Despite everything that they had been through over the past year, they didn’t want to go back.
Beel had only felt so powerless one other time in his life. He couldn’t go with them to protect them and they couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever to stay safe. It was painfully cruel just how much he couldn’t help them.
All he could do was hold them and listen to them get everything off of their chest, dreading the day that the exchange program would end.
MC has to hurry up and learn how to summon him, because he wants to keep them safe from that awful situation. He would never allow another person it the world to hurt them again.
Belphegor
Belphie likes exactly one human in the three realms and every other one is none of his concern. Or, they wouldn’t be his concern if it weren’t for the fact that the one human he cared about was the victim of this particular instance.
He’s not like some of his other brothers. He doesn’t do comfort and he isn’t the best at torture, prefering to get everything over with quickly so he doesn’t have to expend all the extra energy. But, for such a special occasion, he is more than willing to put in the effort.
Humans really do create their own worst fears. Their minds run a mile a minute and they have the strangest way of finding how their own terrors can overpower what little defenses they have.
He may not be able to touch MC’s husband, but he can certainly return every slight against his favorite human. Long, sleepless nights wracked with unending horrors that only that man can truly appreciate.
All the while, he will gladly hold MC when their own nightmares overtake them, trying to put their mind at ease for just this moment. How he wished that his powers could control the waking world as well as their dreams...
Diavolo
“Don’t go back.” It was the first time Diavolo had brought up the idea. It was one he had been considering for a long time, knowing that it was extreme given that MC was a human and had to live in the human realm. However, he couldn’t live with himself knowing the kind of life MC would return to once they left.
The shouting, the insults, discarding everything MC liked because their husband doesn’t care for it… Diavolo would never feel right knowing he sent someone dear to him back there.
He had the means to help them get literally anywhere but back to that man. Diavolo could help set them free from that life, even if they didn’t want to stay in the Devildom. He knew MC would have the support of everyone they had met.
All they had to do was say yes and he would move the Devildom itself to get them out of there.
#obey me#dark fic#mine#request#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor#swd obey me#obey me swd#obey me shall we date#headcanon#obey me headcanons
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dedicated to the lovely @himboksj happy (very late almost criminally late) bday present! so whew... there’s a lot happening in this one! return of jock!jk and his wonderful girl oc now featuring!!: squirting, creampie, oral (fem receiving), mild choking, biting, boobs in face!!, anime tiddy mentions, praise kink galore, multiple orgasms, the use of a vibrator, jaykay is sick actually, over-stimulation, mild spit kink, dommish!jk, (redacted) pet name, mentions (and watching) of porn, everybody is in love and horny, crying cause the dick too good, fingering but not really. 5k of words that should have never left my brain. listen to continuum & nothing without you by tanerelle (kindly check masterlist for the pretty boy drabble mini masterlist if you want to read the rest of this au!)
Jeongguk didn’t mean to go snooping through your things. It was 100% accidental. He just remembered that you kept some athletic tape in your drawers because Jeongguk usually needed to wrap his knee or ankle after practice and you ensured that he always had some near (in case he came crashing at yours instead of going back to his dorm after Coach brutalised him during drills). And, anyway, you were at a point in your relationship where Jeongguk didn’t necessarily feel the need to outright ask you if he could poke around your drawers. Of course, he respected your space, but it’s not like he wasn’t nosy when you were best friends. You were in the shower too, he didn’t want to bang on the door and ask where you kept the tape.
Imagine his surprise when he reached the final drawer in your dresser, idly rummaging around for the blue athletic tape he knows is buried somewhere, and his fingers latch around a silky cloth instead. He knew what it was immediately, the shape a dead give-away. A discreet bullet vibrator, stuffed under your unnecessarily large collection of fluffy winter socks. Perhaps he stopped breathing, the twitch in his loose workout shorts undeniable. He’s not surprised that you own one and yet, his brain can’t fathom you using it. Even now, Jeongguk’s still growing used to seeing you come undone around his length, the feeling of your walls tight on his cock as your mumble his name. It drives him mad. He’s seen you in every kind of state; sobbing hysterically, laughing until tears slip from your pretty eyes, stumbling drunk in the streets, eyebrows furrowed with anger at him, that soft tiny grin you grant him on good days, the pout your lips settle into when you don’t get your way. He never fathomed he’d ever see you in that way, skin flushed with heat, eyes cloudy with ecstasy, your heat pressed against his own. He finds new ways to fall in love with you every day but it reaches new heights when he’s deep inside of you. Maybe he’s mildly obsessed with seeing you unravel, but that’s a secret he keeps to himself.
He does take a peek at your toy though, a soft velvet-like purple vibrator. It’s cute actually, something you would definitely purchase. But then the sound of water hitting the shower tiles slows down and Jeongguk swiftly tucks the toy back into your drawers.
“Oh?” You say when you open the door to him standing stiff in your room. The steam from the shower wraps around your figure in gentle wisps, sunlight filtering in from the window behind you, the image of an innocent angel appearing right before his eyes. “You’re here.”
“Practise ended early,” Jeongguk returns, his gaze trailing the droplets of water that slip down your skin. You smell good, just like that vanilla and peach shower gel that you dearly love. And the towel hiding your body is loose. It’s not his fault that he’s hard in his pants. When he moves to hug you, your face contorts, a downward tug at your lips that Jeongguk longs to change with a kiss.
“I’m wet,” you whine, brushing past him. “Go shower, you always stink after practise.”
He huffs, strong arms catching your fleeing figure and quickly wrapping you into his chest. “No. Don’t want to. I missed you and you can’t even hug me? You’re so mean to me.”
“Guk-” Jeongguk cuts that complaint with his face in your neck, lips colouring your skin rouge with a kiss that intends to leave a mark. “You can’t,” you mumble, but your fingers settle on the nape of his neck, tangling in the growing strands of his hair. “I have to get to work soon.”
“It won’t take long,” Jeongguk returns, feathering kisses across your skin as he nudges you to the bed. “I promise. Let me do this, I’ve missed you, bunny.”
Your towel is discarded somewhere in the amble to your sheets, your thighs wrapped around Jeongguk’s face a second later. He watches your body carefully, teasing your clit with purpose before he allows himself to slip his tongue deep. He notes the twitches in your thighs, the way your buck your hips against his face. He ignores his desire, for the time being, nose buried at the apex of your cunt, tongue covered in your slick, his lips latched on your clit. You like it fast, purposeful sharp flicks that make you squirm until Jeongguk has to pin your hips down, the lave on your heat brutal. His brain can’t help but wonder how you’d behave with your toy grazing your clit and his cock burrowed deep. You’re so sensitive, response to even the softest kiss he lays on your cunt. Would you be wetter than this? You’re already dripping down his face, his mouth glistening with your desire. But he wants to see if you can do more than this, squirm more than this, make a bigger mess than this. The thought surfaces as he feels your body lock, the tension in your limbs drawn high as your hands reach for his. You cum on his face with your fingers intertwined, his name falling from your lips as the afternoon sunlight hits your skin. It’s then and there that Jeongguk decides, with his mouth wet from your release, he’s going to see you squirt one day. For him and him alone.
He waits for the moment to naturally strike, silently scheming wicked thoughts every time you crawl into his sheets. It happens one evening, an empty bottle of wine at the foot of your bed and hentai porn playing brazenly on his laptop screen. Somewhere between downing the bottle and cuddling in his sheets Jeongguk had mentioned an uncanny resemblance between your gigantic chest and the anime boobies he’d grown fond of since his introduction to hentai. You’d immediately dismissed him, whacking him hard on the head and then Jeongguk had to prove it to you, opening his favourite website and pulling up a video that had your jaw-dropping.
“Your boobs do that, you know,” he says. Which grants him a sharp kick to the shin.
“Jeongguk, what is wrong with you?” He can tell you’re not annoyed, but there’s a lilt in your voice that makes him pause, doe eyes flicking to your face. You may be kicking him under the blankets but your eyes are stuck to the video, a distance glaze colouring your gaze. He can tell by the way your thighs draw together that you’re not as averse to this as you pretend to be.
“Turn it off,” you mumble.
“Why? I can tell that you like it.”
“Jeon, I’m not joking.” There’s a glare paired with that sentence, but he reads right through it.
“Fine,” Jeongguk offers, fingers already typing what’s been on his mind since the day he discovered your vibrator.
“What are you—oh.”
There’s a quiet lull. He clicks on a video that’s more familiar to him than he’ll ever willingly admit out loud. It starts the way Jeongguk prefers it to, with a man on his knees, his head buried between the thighs of a girl.
“What are you doing, Guk?” A warning. A question. Jeongguk is not sure what you mean by that and he’s too hesitant to take a look at your face to decipher the tone in your voice just yet. He takes the jump instead, hoping you don’t mind the fantasies of his mind.
“Have you ever squirted?” Somewhere between the exchange of words in Jeongguk's room, the man on his laptop screen slipped two fingers into the girl. It doesn’t help that your boobs are falling right out of your loose camisole, resting right on his bare arm.
“Jeongguk,” you return. “Answer my question.”
“Answer mine first,” he looks at you then, trying hard to read your eyes. There’s no heat in your face, just an innocence that colours your features. Wide eyes, your legs draw together, a hard swallow that he sees in the low lights that illuminate the room.
“No,” you say, bottom lip caught between your teeth. “So why are you showing me squirting porn?”
It’s then that Jeongguk realises he wants to ruin you. As horribly cliché as it sounds, he longs for that. And the urge for it doubles when your gaze falters, flicking quickly for the screen before drifting back to his. The couple is still fucking on his screen, hard quick loud thrusts that travel to the pit in his stomach fast. He’s hard in his briefs, a painful throb ebbing through his length when your hand drops to his chest.
“Guk?”
He shuts the laptop, the moans cut off, a heated silence taking its place. The bed feels too big when he gets up, ignoring the confused look you give him.
The vibrator is exactly where he left it, oddly comforting because it means you don’t use it. You have him after all. But he needs the toy for tonight.
“What? Guk? What’s go—when did you find that?” You’re embarrassed, he knows it from the way you squirm under the blanket. He glances down at it, finger pressing the switch that turns it on. A quick run through shows ten decent vibrators at different levels, it’s rather intense even in his hands, the low buzz that it emits filling the room forbidding before he shuts it off.
“A couple of weeks ago,” he says. You groan, your head dropping into your hands.
“Put it away, Guk! And don’t go through my stuff ever again.”
“Why? I think it’s cute.”
“Cu—what is the point of this, Jeongguk? I don’t get what you’re trying to do?” And there you go, staring at him with those wide ingenuous eyes. So trusting, so clueless. He draws closer then, considers taking his underwear off so you can see just what you do to him. But when your gaze drops he halts. It’s not about him tonight. It’s about you.
The bed dips under the weight of his as he says it, the toy still in his hands. “I want to see if you can squirt.” He sees the way your back stiffens, the raise in your brow.
“I’ve never done that,” you splutter, falling back as Jeongguk crawls over you.
“I know. But you can.”
“I can’t, Guk. I don’t think I can.” Your pretty lips are drawn into a reluctant pout, but there’s a bright curiosity sparking through your gaze that Jeongguk knows all too well.
“See, you don’t think you can. You said that before. And then I made you cum five times in a row.”
“No that was different—”
“We’re just seeing if you can. We don’t have to if you don’t want to but I think it’d be fun to try.”
You pause, trying to ignore the heat blooming between your legs as you weigh the decision before you. There were times when you thought you were about to, an edge in your orgasms that felt dangerous. But your body never let you go there fully, drawing back from your slipped from heights you couldn’t handle. You can tell Jeongguk won’t grant you the same precautions. His eyes a dark, toeing a line that feels forbidding. The covers are gently pulled from you, Jeongguk staying silent as you ponder. But the moment the cool night air hits your skin you know what he’s asking for. It’s a strange level of vulnerability, a bareness that makes your skin prickle. He wants something that you’ve never given anyway else — not even yourself. It’s a lot to ask for and his directness makes you pause. The hesitation crumbles when his hand settles on your thigh, wide warm palm gently nudging your clasped legs apart.
“We really don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Jeongguk says, honey eyes locked on you. You know he’s being honest; he wouldn’t push it if you said no. And yet, something twists in your stomach. You want this. The realisation is sudden and you don’t know if it’s because of how perfect Jeongguk looks tonight. Chestnut curls a messy halo on his head and his shirt hanging loose from his broad shoulders. Or maybe it’s how he looks at you as if this is the only he’s ever really wanted in the world. As if you’re the only thing he’s ever really wanted.
“I want to—I mean I want to try.” You let yourself fall open then, something clicking as Jeongguk slots right against you perfectly, your sleeping shorts bunching up when his hips roll with intent. His lips land on your neck a moment later, a kiss so soft that you don’t feel it at first, lost in the way he hits your clit when he bucks into you. Jeongguk draws you back with a bite, one sharp enough to leave you gasping, your back arching from the sheets. He lets his hands slip under then, the vibrator momentarily forgotten as he maps your skin, lips feather-light once more, kisses gentle enough to leave you delirious.
“So good to me,” Jeongguk mumbles, eyes drifting to your lips. He draws close then, mouth fitting yours in a dreamlike perfectness. It’s flavoured with wine and want, a clear hunger in how he parts your lips. The hands that grip you are hard but his lips are gentle, savouring the taste of you against his mouth as if he wants to commit it to memory. The softness of the act has your skin tingling, bright and wild yet slow like the turning of the Sun. When you part, the air is different — charged, the current that swims through the atmosphere finding a home in your body as it settles in the depth of your gut. Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to ponder, mouth trailing from the corner of your lips to the hollow of your neck where he bites. It hurts enough to shock your senses, sweeping you back from the heavenly haze to the alarming reality of what he’s about to do to you. Your whimper hits the air as his tongue presses into the mark, painting your skin dark. A pointed reminder. You’d thought Jeongguk would be possessive, but sometimes he surprises you with it. The purposeful touches, the harsh bruises he likes to leave high on your neck. Or anywhere on your body, really. There are times he’d press his fingertips into them when you’re willing enough to let him choke you, the flash in your eyes spurring his hips forward.
For now, he busies himself with breathing a new one to life, one you know he’ll play with tomorrow — or later tonight if you give him the chance. Your brain can’t think that fair, zoning out as his mouth works a claim on your skin. Eager fingertips are drifting down your thighs, brushing past the band of your sleeping shorts. It’s expected that you’re already wet, but Jeongguk delights in his find with a muted moan in your neck. His fingers don’t go further though, grazing light against the damp fabric of your underwear. The swivel of your hips is automatic but Jeongguk quickly stills it with a hard press of his palm into your skin. You’re forced into the mattress, freezing when he finally wanders from your neck to your chest. So slow, wet lips idly trailing until his face lands between your chest.
“Gukkie,” you hadn’t realised how gone you already sounded until you spoke, voice wavering. He hums in response, non-committal, his hands shifting from your hips as he focuses on freeing you from your top so he can get your boobs in his mouth.
“Don’t tease me today.” You’re trying to sound firm, pliantly raising your arms so he can get you bare. But that firmness shrinks when your eyes land on his. So dark in the dwindling moonlight bleeding through your half-open blinds.
“Why?” There’s that smile of his, one corner hung higher than the either. You’ve sunk yourself in a sea brimming with sharks. “You sound cute when you whine, bunny.”
“Jeong — fuck.” There’s no point in protesting when he’s buried himself between your chest, tongue already toying with your nipple. Too many guys before him had misunderstood how to touch you there, but Jeongguk knew — he had learned. Studied your body so that he knows when to nip or kiss, shifting from pain to pleasure until the line blurred and so did your vision, until the only sound filling the room are harsh breaths and the quiet murmur of his name. Your hands eventually stray to his head, the heat in your core demanding attention as you guide him down. Jeongguk complies, not because he doesn’t want to tease you any further, but because he loves tasting you too much to ever say no.
The sight he finds sends an ache down his length, already hard but now leaking into the fabric of his grey sweats. You spread yourself so easily for him, light pink panties coloured dark with your wetness.
“Cute,” Jeongguk whispers, falling naturally into his place between your legs. It wasn’t meant to grace the air, but he’s glad it did when he notes the bashful smile tugging at your lips and how you twist to shift your head into the pillows the closer he gets. Which, honestly, makes him pause. He wants you to watch, needs you to. Something in the base of his brain needing constant affirmation that he’s making you feel good driving his next set of movements.
The hand on your chin is unexpected and adamant. You can’t help but give in, wide-eyed when Jeongguk forces your gaze onto him. “Need you to look bunny, can you do that for me?” The nod you give him is instinctual, heat blossoming in your bones when Jeongguk smiles, satiated and proud. Perhaps you should have put up more of a fight, but how could have known what he would do with only the tender touches he’d lift as your guide. Even the quick kiss he plants on your clothed cunt revealed nothing of what’s to come. So gentle as he pulls he fabric down your hips, discarding it somewhere in the sheets, his eyes never leaving the wetness on your lips.
“My pretty girl,” he says, nipping the inside of your thigh. You squirm at that, futile because Jeongguk just held you closer. “All mine, right bunny?”
“All yours,” you return, voice far and your mind slipping from your hands. Jeongguk apparently takes that to heart because he devours you, nose burrowed in the apex of your cunt, breathing you in as his tongue mapped the velvet of your walls. It doesn’t take long for your legs to wrap around his head, back raising from the bed and the drip of your slick coating your inner thighs. Yet, Jeongguk relishes it, forgoing breathing as he eats you open, toying with your clit as if that was his sole life purpose. You forget the world with a speed that should concern you, thighs trembling with each determined swirl of his tongue over that bud. Again and again, until you spill into his mouth, wet and creamy, creating a mark of your own on his lips. He keeps you there, unrelenting even when your whines hit high and your chest heaves. There’s a ringing in your ears as the high wanes away, which is swiftly placed by a quiet mumbling that sinks into your skin.
“Tastes so good,” Jeongguk murmurs, licking between your folds. “So fucking good.”
“Jeon,” Something twists in your gut when he drops a final kiss onto you as if he was thanking you for letting him do that when you should be the one on your knees thanking him. When he softly drops your leg to the soiled sheets you decide it quickly, already shifting onto your elbows.
“Yes?” Such innocent eyes staring back at you like he didn’t just fuck you open with his tongue.
“I want you too,” you’re already shifting but Jeongguk is quick, fingertips hard on your jaw when he halts you. He knows what that means, reads it in how your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, wet just like you were. But that’s not what he wants, besides, he’d rather save that for other places.
“No.” When he says that you almost deflate, but then Jeongguk drops his hand from your jaw, swiftly dragging his shirt over his back and off his body. There’s nothing that can suffocate the desire that blooms in your chest. He’s so beautiful, hard lines and warm skin, kissed by the Sun herself. There’s an itch in your palm instantly, and you hastily register that if you don’t touch him you might die. Yet, your eager hands are pinned over your head, wrists wrapped tightly in the grip of one of his wide calloused palms. There’s a brief moment where his attention is caught by the bounce of your chest before you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that you’ve never asked Jeongguk to fuck your tits before. But as you stow that away for later concern, Jeongguk’s other hand drifts to the discarded vibrator, sinister now in his command.
“Don’t want to fuck your mouth, bunny. It’s not about me tonight, it’s about you.”
“But—” Jeongguk swallows that protest with a quick kiss, the taste of you on his tongue igniting a fire that crackles and consumes until you feel nothing but heat and want, all fuelled by your erratic lovesick heart. You kiss until the only thing filling your lungs is him, like a heavy smoke that envelopes you, travelling through your body until you pull away, warm chest flushed against his. There’s a stupid twinkle in his eyes and it makes you feel sick, swaying dangerously when he shifts away. You don’t want him to go, but you don’t move when he gives you that look. The devastating ache dissipates when his pants drop from his hips, hard cock meeting the cool air. The twitch that travels down his length echoes between your walls, eagerly clenching around nothing. Jeongguk just smiles, stripping bare leaving himself vulnerable to your eager eyes. You wait, behaving good because you want to for him and Jeongguk notes this, delivering a pleased slap to your cunt when he pulls you close, one hard enough to jolt through your spine when his palm hits your clit.
“I’m kind of sensitive,” you whisper, shy again. Which is funny because weren’t you begging for his cock down your throat a second ago?
“I know,” Jeongguk returns, uncaring. The vibrator comes to life a moment later, buzzing low through the room. He knocks it up to the second-highest level.
“Jeongguk! Start low then work it up. I can’t take it like that directly, it'll chafe me.” Which is right, your clit is already feeling dry, slick staying solely between your walls. Jeongguk notes that, pausing before sinking two of his fingers deep. You squeak, hips lifting when they brush against that spot in your walls. He works you open deftly, pleased when you grind your hips into his hands, spurred on by the feeling of something finally inside of you. But it’s fleeting, Jeongguk dragging his fingers out and over your clit before raising his fingers to his lips and licking them clean.
“Now it won’t,” he states, and before you can open your mouth and deliver a retort the vibrator is pressing against that bundle of nerves, tremors echoing in your bones as your legs squeeze shut in an attempt to get away. Jeongguk pins them open, cock leaking against your thigh and he rolls the edge of the toy over your clit, before you jolt so hard the sheets shift and he knows exactly where to place it. He works it out of you, praise naturally falling from his petal lips when you give in, eyes shut tight and your heart stuck in your throat. The vibration feeds the heat in your gut, drawing it to the surface of your skin, sweat beading along your forehead and a dampness forming down your spine. It feels both quick and slow, coaxed out of you with steadfastness. Jeongguk’s gaze never strays from your pussy, locked there as he etches this moment into his memory. You look gorgeous, whining and twisting underneath him. He can tell that this is a lot for you, judging from how you bury your face away from him. He would have forced your eyes on him, if he wasn’t already so enthralled by how perfect you look like this, moans low colouring the air bright with their sound. His own want multiples when your body freezes, strung tight, the edge beckoning you over.
He pulls the vibrator off then, depriving you of your release because his brain demands that he feels this one around his length.
“Jeongguk!” You’re on your elbows, eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. “Why-w-why would you do that?” There’s a waver in your tone, a lilt so pretty he can’t help but smile.
“When you squirt you’re doing it on my cock.” He states it like it's final. And it is from how he draws you close, vibrator momentarily lost in the sheets, the head of his length brushing against your wetness.
But what catches your attention is when. A loaded promise. A determined one.
You spread your legs open, shifting until he slips past walls stretching to accommodate his welcoming presence. “Okay then, make me.” You say it with your gaze on his, watching as his eyes glaze over hips already bucking deeper, before your words register in his brain and Jeongguk’s gaze shifts into a dangerous glint.
He tugs you hard, pulling close enough so that he sinks in deep, cunt already moulding to the curves of his cock. “With pleasure.” Those words are warning, painted right into the heat of your skin as he sheathes himself inside of you. The groans in the air belong to both of you melting into one distinctive sound. It’s cut by the lewd squelch of your wetness coating his length, one that settles in Jeongguk’s gut, release already creeping into the corner of his vision. But he holds it back by knocking your legs further apart, mouth returning to the bruise he left earlier, teeth sinking into the sensitive skin. You arch into him, shifting as pain bleeds through your nerves. The motion allows the last inch of him to slip past your walls, spearing you open, before Jeongguk draws himself out and returns with a hard slow thrust. He fucks you deep, right into the bed, the frame creaking with each loud meeting between the two of you. You can’t do anything but cling onto him, eyes fluttering as his cock drives into you, determined with every piston of his hips to see you unravel. And you do, with a sickening quickness, already weak with the remembrance of your past edge. You feel soft underneath him, pressed against his skin like you hope you find a home for yourself there. And Jeongguk provides — lips mapping your skin gently and a pride in his tone that makes you want to do anything for him.
“That’s it, good girl.” You can’t say anything but his name, whining with every drag of his length along your walls. “So good to me,” he whispers, sweet, unlike his unforgiving hips. “Pretty girl and she’s all mine.”
“Yes,” you gasp, wanting this more than ever. “All yours—a-all—hnghhhh—y-yours! Jeongguk, please! P-please, please, please.”
He slows, smiling into your neck. “What bunny? What do you want?”
“Wanna cum, Jeongguk p-please let me cum.” When he moves away you feel your gut drop. The vibrator is flicked back one, humming dangerously. “Guk—” you start; he shushes you with a purposeful thrust.
“You said you wanted to cum. Remember what you promised me, bunny?” You nod, slow, nervous but your need overriding your fear. Jeongguk just smiles, shifts himself a little deeper, and then places the vibrator where you need it most. It’s not instant, but it’s quick and violent, travelling through your bones and Jeongguk rocks himself deep, curls damp on his forehead and his shoulders tense but his body still giving. You match his movements with your own, shuddering the closer you feel it creep, ripping itself right out of your limbs, drawn to the surface with no remorse, your eyes falling shut and hips seizing. The vibration paired with the feeling of Jeongguk fucking you full is intoxicating, and unlike you he doesn’t hesitate, playing with your clit unforgivingly.
You don’t even hear yourself, mouth agape and your back high from the sheets, all you know is heat, burning from the inside out. No air in your lungs as it spills from you, right onto his length, walls drawn tight. It hits his abdomen, leaving his muscles wet and glimmering as the moonlight greets his skin. Jeongguk shuts down, hips moving automatically, the vibrator thrown aside, still buzzing forlornly. He couldn’t give a damn about it, bending your legs back and fucking into you hard as you coat his cock in your wetness. If it was loud before, it’s obscene now. The nails in his back spur him further, a need he’s never felt before consuming him whole. It’s already there, the white of his desire clouding his vision, but his brain suddenly stills.
Jeongguk’s hand on your chin draws you back to Earth, mind nothing but mush as he continues to fuck you open. They’re erratic thrusts, and with them, you slowly release that your cheeks are wet. Jeongguk realises it the same time you do, thumb gingerly brushing the tears falling from your eyes away. There’s a strange new awareness buzzing through your body, like your bones feel new, limbs reformed. But nothing could prepare you for that thumb on your cheek travelling down, grazing your lips until they fall open. He slips it past, lets you flick your tongue against it, before demanding. “Open.”
And you do, because what wouldn’t you do for him.
“Can I?” He questions, and somehow you know what he is asking. Another claim. Something else you’ve given nobody but him.
“Yes.”
There’s a fall in his shoulders as if he was afraid you would deny him. But how could you ever? His thumb leaves your lips, hand drifting until it settles on your neck, pressing firmly but not tight. And then his own lips part, hips unwavering, for what he sends down your throat. You swallow, oddly thrilled by it while Jeongguk watches silently, almost in marvel. It does something to you, the way he stares, like he cannot believe you’re his. And you feel that sentiment in how he kisses you next, desperate, pleading, thankful. You return it, tongue soft against his as you feel his back draw taut, a low groan spilling down your throat when Jeongguk finally snaps, euphoria bleeding through his brain. You feel it hit your walls, warm and wet, painting you white, a strange satisfaction settling through your body.
When he eventually rolls over, quiet like he’s still recovering, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, an attempt to keep his love locked in. His hand cups your own, guiding you back into reality with a gentle squeeze.
The still buzzing vibrator is what you hear first, followed by the joint panting of your lungs. You move to grab it, hoping to hide the revelation in your eyes by glaring at him. Jeongguk is still too lost to care, face flushed a vibrant rouge.
“Turn this stupid thing off,” you mutter, legs still stuck, fused to the bed from the shock of your orgasm. Jeongguk snatches it up, waving it through the air as he turns it off, before giving it a fond kiss.
“Gross,” you comment, smacking his hard chest.
“No,” Jeongguk returns, dropping it. He plants a ginger kiss on your forehead. “I quite like it actually, we should order another one. Do you think they do vibrating panties?”
You hit him again, rolling over until your leg swings over his. He keeps looking at you like that, and it keeps clawing right through your heart. “You’re so sick and evil,” you say instead of the annoying comments that flutter in your delirious brain. You want to call him pretty, beautiful, perfect, maybe the best thing you’ve ever had. But you can’t let Jeongguk know he has all that power over you — not when already made you squirt and spat down your throat in one sitting. “Can you clean me up? I’m getting sticky.”
Jeongguk stills like he’s suddenly remembering what he just did, where he just came. And then you feel the rise of his chest, gaze flicking up to meet his. Bright and full of something akin to adoration, before he blinks it away.
“Give me a moment, I think I just saw God.”
#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#bts x reader#bts smut#btswriterscollective#btswritingcafe#jungkook fanfic#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenario#bts fanfic#bts scenario#au: jock!jaykay
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