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cheers-to-you-th · 13 hours ago

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Even Dumbasses Deserve Love

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x reader

Genre: Fluff, f2l, angst if you squint, smut !MDNI!

Warnings: Jeonghan being an idiot, oral (f receiving), dry humping, unprotected sex (don't do it yall), multiple orgasms, let me know if I missed anything

Summary: Yoon Jeonghan, your beautiful, wonderful, amazing, dumb-ass of a best friend who somehow doesn't see how hopelessly in love with him you are.

Until he does.

Banner by @orngejuic Beta Readers: @gyubakeries @sanaxo-o @mylovesstuffs ily guys <3

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows @cynthbee

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Jeonghan prides himself in being two steps ahead of everyone. It’s just how he is—how he operates. He reads people easily, anticipates what they’ll do before they can even think it themselves. It’s why he always wins petty bets, why he always manages to dodge responsibility, why he can talk his way out of anything with nothing more than a lazy smile. He sees the signs before they become obvious, notices the smallest shifts in expression, the tiniest changes in behavior.

That’s why, after knowing you for years, Jeonghan finds himself baffled. The first time he notices something is when you sit in your normal seat next to him before your lecture starts, sliding a coffee in front of him. It’s something you do so often that it barely registers—until Seokmin starts to complain.

“Where’s mine?” Seokmin whines, dramatically slumping against the table. “Why does Jeonghan always get special treatment? I like coffee too, you know.”

You scoff, sipping from your own cup without a second thought. “You have two legs, Kyeom, use them.”

Seokmin pouts, muttering something about Jeonghan’s legs and injustice, but Jeonghan barely hears him. Because for the first time, he’s thinking about what Seokmin had said. You always bring him coffee. Always. Even when you’re running late, even when you don’t get one for yourself. Even when you grumble about how he doesn’t deserve it.

He lifts the cup, staring at the little details he’s never bothered to notice before. The way his name is scrawled across the side in your handwriting instead of the barista’s. The way you always get it exactly how he likes—two sugars, just enough milk to take the edge off the bitterness. The way you don’t even wait for a thank you.

Like it’s second nature. Like it’s just… what you do.

And now, he can’t stop thinking about it.

He starts noticing other things during the lecture.

How you always roll your eyes when he leans against you, but never actually push him away. How you scold him for doodling on the margins of your notebook, but still let him get away with it every time. How you look at him when you think he isn’t paying attention.

It makes something shift in his brain—tilting, twisting, catching on a thought he’s somehow never had before.

And maybe that should be the end of it.

But it isn’t.

Not yet.

Because a week later, it happens again.

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It’s late—too late for you to be waiting around for him, but you do anyway. The library is nearly empty, the last stragglers packing up as Jeonghan stretches his arms over his head with a groan.

“Finally done?” you ask, voice amused as you glance up from your phone. You’re already leaning against the table, your bag slung over your shoulder, like you’ve been waiting for him this whole time.

Because you have.

Jeonghan blinks. He hadn’t asked you to. Hadn’t even considered it. He just assumed you’d gone home when you finished hours ago. But you didn’t—you stayed.

“Why are you still here?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. “I thought you said you were leaving at nine.”

You shrug. “Changed my mind.”

Changed your mind.

Jeonghan frowns but doesn’t push further. Because now, he’s thinking about it again.

About the way you always are there whenever he needs you, about how you never actually leave until he does. About how, even when you complain about him, you’re still here.

Always here, waiting for him.

His stomach twists with something unfamiliar. Something that feels a little too warm, a little too close to something he isn’t ready to name. He follows you into the cold night air, his hands stuffed in his pockets. His thoughts are too loud, too disorganized, for him to focus.

And when you shiver beside him, he doesn’t even think—he just shrugs off his hoodie and tugs it over your head before you can protest.

You freeze, blinking up at him. “What—”

“Just wear it,” Jeonghan mutters, looking away.

And maybe, if he let himself think too hard about why he did that—why the sight of you in his hoodie makes something tighten in his chest—he’d realize he’s in way more trouble than he thought.

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The next time, it’s at a party.

Jeonghan isn’t even sure why he came—probably because Mingyu wouldn’t stop nagging him about needing to ‘go out and touch grass,’ whatever that means. The music is loud, the room packed with people, and Jeonghan, as usual, is lounging in the corner with a drink in hand, thoroughly entertained by the mess unfolding around him.

Then he sees you.

You’re talking to someone—some guy he doesn’t recognize, who’s standing a little too close, leaning in a little too much. You don’t seem bothered at a glance, but Jeonghan notices the way your fingers tighten around your cup, the slight shift in your stance. It’s subtle, something no one else would catch. But he does. He sees the tightness in your smile and the way you recoil when the man touches your arm.

Before Jeonghan can think twice, he’s already moving.

He slides up next to you easily, arm slinging around your shoulders like it belongs there, like it’s second nature. “There you are,” he drawls, flashing his most infuriating smile as he pointedly ignores the guy in front of you. “Been looking for you everywhere.”

You blink up at him, startled for only a second before you relax against him, leaning into his hold like it’s instinct.

The guy shifts awkwardly. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were—”

Jeonghan tilts his head, still smiling. He doesn’t say anything, just lets the weight of unspoken words hang in the air until the guy gets the message and quickly excuses himself.

Once he’s gone, Jeonghan glances down at you, raising a brow. “You okay?”

You let out a breath, rolling your eyes. “I was handling it.”

“I know.” He shrugs, arm still around you, still holding you close. “Felt like bothering you anyway.”

You huff, but you don’t pull away.

And then it hits him again.

The way you always let him do this—let him close, let him linger. The way you lean into him, like you belong there. The way it feels so natural that he doesn’t realize he's still holding onto you until his fingers tighten slightly on your shoulder.

Something warm twists in his chest.

He should let go. He should step back.

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Another day, it’s at lunch.

Jeonghan doesn’t think much when you slide into the seat across from him, tray in hand, like you always do. He barely glances up from his phone as you start picking at your food, the conversation around you blending into background noise.

Then you do something that makes his fingers still over his screen. You push the cucumbers off his plate. It’s so natural, so absentminded, that you don’t even seem to notice yourself doing it. Just a quick movement, the same way you always do.

Jeonghan stares at his plate, where the cucumbers had been only seconds ago, now neatly placed onto yours without a word. He glances up at you, but you’re still focused on your meal, completely unbothered, like this is just… normal.

He thinks back—tries to remember when this started. When you figured out he didn’t like cucumbers. When you decided, without being asked, to take them off his plate every single time.

Jeonghan swallows.

“Are you gonna eat that?” you ask suddenly, pointing at the bread roll on his tray.

He blinks, momentarily caught off guard before scoffing. “At least let me offer before you start eyeing my food.”

You roll your eyes, reaching over to grab it anyway. “Please, you were gonna give it to me either way.”

He doesn’t argue. Because you’re right. He always does.

And now, as you tear off a piece of the bread and pop it into your mouth without thinking, Jeonghan can’t help but notice the way this has all become a habit. The way there are things you do for him without question. The way there are things he does for you, too.

Jeonghan exhales, poking at the rest of his food, but suddenly, it doesn’t taste the same.

Because now, he’s thinking about it again.

Thinking about what makes you act like this.

But he doesn’t ask.

Not yet.

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The next instance is in the rain.

Jeonghan had told you to go home before the storm hit, rolled his eyes when you stubbornly refused– insisting you’d be fine– until he finally managed to convince you. And now, standing under the awning of a closed convenience store, watching the rain pour down in sheets, he’s debating whether he should call you just to say, “I told you so.”

Then his phone buzzes.

You: are you still at the library?

Jeonghan frowns, quickly typing back.

Jeonghan: no, at the convenience store across from it, dorm ran out of soju You: don’t leave yet. I’m coming to get you.

He stares at the screen, brow furrowing. You’re coming to get him?

It takes you fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes of Jeonghan watching the rain fall, of tapping his fingers against his phone, of wondering—really wondering—why you’re doing this.

And then you’re there, pulling up to the curb with your hazard lights flashing, hair slightly damp from the short sprint to your car. You barely give him a chance to react before you’re unlocking the door, waving him in.

“Hurry up,” you say, like this is normal. Like it’s nothing. Like you haven’t just driven across town in the middle of a downpour for him.

Jeonghan slides into the passenger seat, dripping water onto your floor mats. He doesn’t speak at first, just watches you as you reach into the backseat and pull out a towel.

You toss it at him without looking, focused on pulling back into traffic. “Dry your hair before you get sick.”

Jeonghan stares at the towel, then at you. “Did you—”

“I always keep one in my car,” you interrupt, as if reading his mind. “For emergencies.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. “So, I’m an emergency now?”

“You’re definitely something.” You shake your head, smiling to yourself. “I don’t know why I bother with you.”

But you do.

You do, every single time.

You didn’t have to come get him. You didn’t have to wait for him at the library, or bring him coffee every morning, or let him cling to you at parties without question.

And yet, here you are.

Jeonghan exhales, pressing his lips together, fingers tightening around the towel in his lap.

His chest feels warm again. Too warm.

He should say something. Should tease you, should make some dumb joke to brush this off like he always does.

But for the first time, he doesn’t.

For the first time, he just sits there, watching you drive, heart pounding against his ribs.

But he doesn’t want to think about how you make him feel.

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The worst time is when he’s sick.

Jeonghan rarely gets sick. He prides himself on that, actually—on having an immune system strong enough to withstand whatever hell Mingyu’s cooking experiments unleash upon their friend group. But now, he’s curled up in bed, utterly miserable, his head pounding and his throat raw.

He doesn’t remember texting you. He’s not even sure if he did. But somehow, you’re there.

The knock on his door barely registers, his brain foggy with fever, but then you’re pushing it open, arms full—plastic bags rustling, a familiar frown on your lips.

“Yah,” you scold immediately, setting everything down on his desk before walking over to him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dying?”

Jeonghan groans, burying his face in his pillow. “Not dying.”

“You sound like you swallowed glass.” You reach out, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead before he can stop you. Your skin is cool against his overheated skin, and it makes him shiver.

You frown deeper. “You’re burning up.”

“I’ll live,” he mutters, voice hoarse.

You click your tongue but don’t argue, instead moving back to the desk, unpacking the bags you brought. Jeonghan watches through half-lidded eyes as you pull out medicine, a bottle of his favorite drink, a container of porridge, and— he freezes, heart stuttering.

You brought the exact brand of honey lemon lozenges he likes. The ones he always complains are overpriced but still buys anyway. His fingers twitch where they rest against his blanket.

“How’d you—” He stops to clear his throat. “You remembered?”

You glance at him, raising a brow. “Of course I did.”

You say it like it’s obvious, as if he’s the weird one for even questioning it. Jeonghan doesn’t know what to say to that, so he stays quiet, watching as you pour medicine into the cap and hold it out expectantly.

He doesn’t complain. Doesn’t make a fuss like he normally would.

He just sits up, takes the medicine, and lets you take care of him.

And this time, he doesn’t try to push the warmth in his chest away, choosing instead to bask in your care, pretending it means more than it does.

But he doesn’t admit that.

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The next time Jeonghan notices it, really notices it, is a week later.

You don’t know it’s happening (not that you ever do). Don’t notice that he’s staring at you from across the table, barely registering Seungcheol’s story about some girl who ghosted him after three dates. Don’t know that something in his brain is shifting—catching on a thought that’s finally fully formed.

He watches the way you laugh at something Mingyu says, how your nose scrunches slightly when you sip your too-sweet drink. Watches the way you lean back in your chair, rolling your eyes at something dumb he said earlier.

He thinks about how easily you fit next to him. How you always have.

And then it hits him.

A slow-burning realization that should’ve hit him years ago.

The reason you always let him steal your food even when you pretend to be annoyed. The reason you text him good morning when you know he won’t wake up until noon. The reason you never let him get away with his bullshit but still let him stay, no matter how insufferable he is.

The reason you look at him sometimes like he’s the only person in the room, like you’d give him the world if he just asked.

The reason you always have.

His stomach flips.

Oh.

Jeonghan blinks. Swallows hard. Tries to ignore the sudden, inexplicable rush of warmth crawling up his neck. Because this—this—should not be happening. He’s Jeonghan. You’re you. His best friend. The one person who never falls for his tricks, never gets caught up in his nonsense.

Except… you do, don’t you?

And he’s been too blind—too stupid—to see it.

“Oh, shit,” Jeonghan mutters under his breath.

Mingyu pauses mid-bite, looking up. “Huh?”

Jeonghan forces a lazy smile, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

But it isn’t nothing.

It’s everything.

And Jeonghan—who has always prided himself on being two steps ahead of everyone else—has never been more terrified in his life because now, he can’t stop noticing.

It’s in the way you always save him a seat, even when the lecture hall is packed. The way you complain about his bad habits but never actually stop him. The way your fingers brush against his when you pass him something, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

It’s in the way he finds himself looking for you first in a crowded room, in the way his teasing has softened without him realizing, in the way his heart stumbles over itself when you laugh at something he says.

It’s in the way you listen to him—even when he’s talking absolute nonsense—nodding along like his words actually matter. The way you remember the smallest things, like how he hates cucumbers or how he always picks the sesame bagel first. The way you instinctively move closer when he nudges you, like it’s second nature, like you don’t even think about it.

And Jeonghan—who has always prided himself on knowing things before anyone else, on seeing things before they happen—is suddenly drowning in a realization that has been staring him in the face for years.

Because it’s not just you.

It’s him, too.

It’s the way he always shifts closer to you on instinct, the way his gaze flickers toward you the second you walk into a room. The way he lets his guard down without thinking, lets you see the parts of him that no one else does. The way he keeps finding excuses to be near you, even when he tells himself he’s not.

It’s the way his hoodie still hangs in your closet because you never gave it back—and he never asked for it. The way he’s memorized the exact rhythm of your footsteps when you walk beside him. The way he never thinks twice about sharing his food with you, even when he swats Seokmin’s hand away for trying the same thing.

The way his heart is racing right now, loud enough that he swears someone else must hear it.

He swallows hard, fingers tightening around his drink.

Because if all of this is true—if he’s been feeling this way without even knowing it—then that means everything has already changed. And he has no idea what to do about it.

Jeonghan feels like he can’t breathe. The noise of the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, the laughter, the clatter of plates—it all feels too loud, too much. His skin is buzzing, his thoughts spiraling, and before he can stop himself, he’s pushing back his chair and standing up.

No one really notices—Seungcheol is too caught up in his story, Mingyu is still chewing—but you do. Of course you do.

Jeonghan mutters something about fresh air and slips outside before anyone thinks to ask questions. The cool evening air hits him like a slap, sharp and grounding, but it does nothing to quiet the way his chest is tightening. He leans against the brick wall, pressing his palms against his eyes, trying to steady himself.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

The door swings open behind him.

“Jeonghan?”

Your voice is gentle, cautious.

He forces himself to relax, dropping his hands and looking at you with the most neutral expression he can manage. “What’s up?”

You step closer, studying him, your brows furrowing. “Are you okay?”

Jeonghan scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You give him a look—the one that tells him you know he’s full of shit. “You just got up and walked out in the middle of a conversation. That’s not normal.”

He shrugs, shifting his weight. “I just needed some air.”

You don’t move. Don’t buy it for a second.

“Jeonghan.” Your voice is softer this time, almost hesitant. “What’s wrong?”

And he could lie– brush it off, smirk, make some dumb joke to change the subject. That’s what he always does. But for some reason, with you standing there, looking at him like that—like you care, like you’re waiting for the truth—he finds that he can’t.

So instead, Jeonghan exhales sharply, shakes his head and looks away. “I think I just realized something really, really big.”

You tilt your head. “What?”

He hesitates– opens his mouth, closes it.

Then—

“It’s nothing,” he says, too quickly. Forces a smirk, even though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Come on, let’s go back before Mingyu eats all my fries.”

You watch him for a moment longer, and he wonders if you can see through him, if you can hear all the things he isn’t saying.

But then, finally, you sigh. “You’re acting weird.”

Jeonghan laughs, bumping his shoulder against yours as he steers you back inside. “I’m always weird.”

You roll your eyes but let him pull you along. And Jeonghan?

Jeonghan wonders if he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life.

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He tells himself it’s fine. Tells himself it was just a weird moment, a fleeting thought, something he can push down and forget about if he just acts normal.

So that’s what he does.

For the next few days, he’s careful– not staring too long when you talk, not lingering when you walk beside him. He keeps things exactly the same—laughs at your complaints, steals your food, teases you like he always has.

But he can’t unsee it now.

Can’t unfeel the way his heart stutters when you smile at him. The way his skin burns when your arm brushes his. He finds himself watching you when you aren’t looking, cataloging all the little things about you that he somehow never realized were his favorite things.

Worst of all—he can’t unsee the way you look at him.

Because now that he’s noticed, he knows.

You’ve always been looking at him like that.

And now it’s killing him.

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It all comes to a head one night when you’re at Seungcheol’s place for a movie night. The room is dim, the couch too crowded, so you end up sitting on the floor between Jeonghan’s legs. It’s normal. You’ve done it a hundred times before.

But tonight, Jeonghan feels every shift, every time you lean against him. Your shoulder against his knee. Your head tilted back against his leg when you laugh at something on the screen. The warmth of you, right there, so close, so easy.

And then—because the universe is cruel—you grab his hand absentmindedly, just to play with his fingers like you always do when you’re fidgeting. But this time, Jeonghan’s entire world tilts on its axis. His breath catches, heart lurches.

And suddenly, all he can think is—I’m so fucked.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, staring at your hand in his, feeling the slow, absentminded way your fingers trace along his knuckles. It’s nothing.

Except it isn’t because now he knows, and knowing makes it unbearable. So he does the only thing he can think of: he pulls his hand away and stands up.

Too fast. Too abrupt.

You blink, looking up at him in confusion as he mumbles something—some excuse that even he knows doesn’t make sense—and makes a beeline for the door. He barely hears the others calling after him, barely registers the cool night air as he steps outside, pressing a hand to his chest like he can physically push down whatever the hell is clawing its way up his throat.

This can’t be happening.

He can’t be acting like this.

But it is, he is.

And then—

The door creaks open behind him.

“Jeonghan?”

Your voice. Soft, uncertain.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second before forcing a smile and turning around. “Yeah?”

You step closer, arms crossed against the cold. “You’ve been… off these last few days. Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Too quick. Too easy. A lie, and you know it.

You frown, chastising him, “Jeonghan.”

And the way you say his name—like you know him too well, like you can see straight through him—makes his stomach flip. He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I just needed some space.”

You study him, searching his face like you’re piecing together a puzzle only he knows the answer to. “Did I do something?” Your voice is quiet, hesitant, like the idea of hurting him actually hurts you. It almost makes him want to laugh because God, you have no idea.

“No,” he says, too soft, too real. “You didn’t do anything.”

You don’t look convinced, but you don’t push. Instead, you step closer, tilting your head. “Then what is it? I’m worried about you.”

Jeonghan looks at you—the way your brows furrow, the way your lips press together, the way you’re always standing too close but it never mattered until now. He opens his mouth to say something—anything—to push this moment away, to pretend like it’s just another weird, fleeting feeling. But then he looks at you, really looks at you.

Your eyes, wide and trusting, waiting for him to say something that will make sense of whatever the hell happened in there. He takes a step forward, slowly, almost reluctantly, like his body is moving on its own. His arms wrap around you on instinct, like muscle memory, like habit. But when his face finds the crook of your neck and you rub soothing circles into his back, it doesn’t feel like a habit at all. It feels like something else entirely.

Jeonghan pulls back slightly, his hands still lingering on your arms, as if trying to ground himself. The air between you is thick with unspoken words, and he knows he can’t run from it any longer. His heart is beating fast, and he finally asks, his voice tentative, “Do you... do you like me?”

You blink, the question catching you off guard. He’s asked you this before, often asking “what about me” whenever anyone compliments another person. For a moment, it feels like time has paused. He’s looking at you with this vulnerability, this rawness, and it’s both terrifying and comforting at the same time.

“Of course I like you, you’re my best friend.”

Jeonghan’s chest tightens at your words, and his breath catches in his throat. It’s not the answer he was hoping for, not exactly, but he’s not sure what he was expecting either. His heart sinks a little. He didn’t know what kind of answer he wanted, but this... wasn’t it.

“I—yeah, I know,” he says quickly, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly frustrated with himself. He doesn’t know why he feels so nervous now, why it’s suddenly harder to breathe. “But I mean... do you like me more than that? Like, in a way that’s not just... like that?”

There’s a pause as you look at him, and he can’t read your expression, can’t tell if you’re confused or just processing. But your eyes soften as you take in the question.

You tilt your head, trying to make sense of it. “Wait... are you asking if I like you like you?”

Jeonghan nods, a bit sheepish, unable to hide the vulnerability on his face now. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Have I been reading the signals wrong? Am I more than just...do you see me the way I see you?”

For a moment, you don’t say anything. The silence stretches, and Jeonghan feels his heart racing, anxiety curling in his stomach. He regrets even asking, but he can’t bring himself to back out now. Finally, you take a step closer, a smile tugging at your lips, though it’s a little teasing. “And what if I do?”

The words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Jeonghan just stands there, blinking at you, his mind scrambling to catch up. He wasn’t ready for that answer. He wasn’t prepared for the shift in the air between you.

“Well,” he says, frowning. “Do you?”

You laugh softly, but there’s no mocking in it, just warmth. “I think you’re a little slow, Jeonghan. I don’t know how much more obvious I could’ve been. I’ve liked you for years.”

Jeonghan’s breath catches, and for a split second, he feels lightheaded, overwhelmed by the sudden clarity. His heart thuds in his chest as you step closer, and there’s a quiet intensity in your gaze that makes everything feel like it’s falling into place.

“You...” He’s still struggling to get the words out, his mind still spinning, but this time, it’s not confusion that’s holding him back. It’s something else entirely. “I didn’t know.”

You smile again, shaking your head and stepping just a little closer until there’s barely any space between you. “Well, I wasn’t exactly going to say it first, was I?” you tease, but there’s something deeper in your voice now. “You’ve been my best friend for how long now? I’ve seen you turn down hundreds of women.”

Jeonghan reaches out, his hands trembling just slightly as he gently cups your face in his palms, searching your eyes for any hint of doubt. “But... you’re different.” He whispers, his voice low but steady.

You lean into his touch, your eyes never leaving his. “Am I?”

He nods and you smile, causing warmth to spread across his chest. “What does this mean?” He asks hesitantly. Sure he’s been in plenty of relationships before, but he didn’t care about any of them like he cares about you because, like he said, you’re different.

“It means you’re an idiot for taking this long,” you say with a grin. “But it also means I don’t have to wait anymore.”

Before he can say another word, you close the space between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, slow kiss. It wasn’t urgent. There’s no rush, no pushing– just the slow pull of two people who had been waiting for this moment for far too long. Your lips are gentle, testing at first, as if asking for permission. And he gives it, deepening the kiss with a quiet intensity as your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss feels like a quiet promise, an unspoken exchange of everything you’ve never said. Your lips part, and he follows, the kiss turning softer, more tender as he tries to memorize every inch of you. He cups your cheek as if you’re something delicate, something worth protecting. Because you are.

It feels like time is suspended, like there's nothing else but the warmth of your mouths, the softness of your hands. Every part of him is alive with sensation, heart racing faster with each passing moment. He can feel your pulse, too—faster now, matching his.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads rest together, both of you smiling, hearts racing.

“How did you put up with me? I was such an idiot.” Jeonghan says softly, his voice full of affection, but also amusement.

You laugh, your fingers tracing his jawline. “Nothing out of the ordinary. And hey, even dumbasses deserve love.” You say, giving him a peck on the lips.

The sound of a door creaking open behind you breaks the moment, and you pull away reluctantly, both of you still close, but now acutely aware that you’re no longer alone. The sound of Seungcheol’s voice filters through the hallway. “Hey! You two coming back in or what? We need someone to help pick the next movie!”

You glance at Jeonghan, both of you smiling, the weight of the world feeling just a little lighter now. He laughs quietly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at you, a bit sheepish.

“Guess we should probably... go back,” you say with a grin.

He nods, still unable to wipe the smile off his face. “Probably, yeah. Or we could go over to my place instead?”

You just laugh, shaking your head, “Maybe next time, loverboy,” you say, dragging him back to the living room, this time snuggling up next to him under a blanket. Your hand rests on his thigh, trancing slow patterns absentmindedly onto the skin and making a shiver go down his back. It’s not the first time you’ve done this–heck you were fidgeting with his hand before he left–but this time is different. Because now you both know. Jeonghan tries his best to focus on the movie, he really does, but all he can think about is the softness of your lips on his, the way you tugged at his hair when he licked into your mouth, the way your hand feels so good as it squeezes his thigh.

Nope.

Nope nope nope nope nope.

He grabs your hand, flipping it up to interlock his fingers with yours because he is not about to get hard. You gently squeeze his hand, resting your head on his shoulder. He’s hyper-aware of how your hand slots perfectly with his, how you fling your legs over his own. When he glances over at you and sees a mischievous glint in your eye so often found in his, he knows he’s screwed.

And god does he love it.

It’s a running joke between your friends that Jeonghan can never last more than two hours, whether it’s drinking, socializing, or partying, after two hours Jeonghan will clock out. He manages to make it through three hours of your teasing as the movie plays in the background. He doesn’t know what's happening in the movie, and quite frankly, couldn’t give any less of a fuck. Not when he’s endured your breath ghosting over his neck, your weight shifting on him slightly too much for it to be innocent, for three. Whole. Hours.

Yawning and pretending to stretch when the movie is paused for a bathroom break, he stands up, allowing the blanket to fall from his lap and enjoying your complaint at the sudden cold.

“Alright,” Jeonghan announces, rubbing at his eyes dramatically. “I think that’s my cue to head out.”

A chorus of groans follows. “Dude, the movie isn’t even over,” Minghao complains, arms crossed.

“You do this every time,” Jihoon adds, unimpressed.

Jeonghan sighs. “It’s not even that good.”

“Bro, it’s nominated for like, five academy awards.” Vernon guffaws.

Jeonghan shrugs, entirely unbothered.

You roll your eyes but don’t move from your spot on the couch. “You’re so predictable.”

He hums, tilting his head at you. “I’m consistent, there’s a difference.” He grabs your hand, attempting to tug you up. “Come on, let’s go.”

You blink at him, feigning innocence. “Where am I going?”

“Home. With me. So we can escape these idiots. Duh.”

A pillow flies in Jeonghan’s direction, courtesy of Seungkwan. “We can still hear you, dipshit.”

Jeonghan easily dodges it before turning back to you with a grin. “Come on.”

You stretch your arms over your head and settle deeper into the couch, smirking at him. “I think I’ll stay.”

Jeonghan stares at you like you’ve just betrayed him. “But who’s going to drive me home?” He pulls his lips into a pout.

“I guess you’ll have to take the bus,” you drag out, watching the way his face scrunches in displeasure, “I want to finish the movie.”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you, crouching slightly to be level with your gaze. “But you don’t even care about the movie.”

You shrug. “Apparently it’s nominated for whatever Vernon said. Very interesting stuff.”

“Unbelievable,” he mutters under his breath. He drops onto his knees in front of you, leaning against the couch as he complains. “But I wanna go home.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Then go?”

His hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you slightly forward. “Not without you.”

“Jeonghan,” you warn, but it holds no real bite.

He whines, a real, genuine whine that has Jihoon groaning in disgust in the background before tugging you forward to whisper in your ear. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to be with you. Alone. Where I don’t have to share you with all these people.”

You fight a smile. “Wow, I never knew you were so clingy.”

He glares up at you, pout still prominent. “Only for you.”

There’s a beat of silence before you sigh dramatically, running a hand through your hair. “Ugh, fine.”

Jeonghan perks up immediately, eyes glimmering with victory. “Nice!”

You shove at his forehead lightly. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you’re still coming with me,” he sing-songs, standing up and holding out a hand.

You take it begrudgingly, rolling your eyes when he laces your fingers together smugly.

“Bye, quitters,” Seungkwan calls out, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jeonghan doesn’t even spare him a glance, tugging you toward the door with a satisfied grin.

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Jeonghan is not used to being the one squirming, yet here he is, sitting in your passenger seat, fingers twitching against his knee, fighting the urge to run his tongue over his bottom lip, needing something to do.

He’s been watching you for the past fifteen minutes, the way your hands flex on the wheel, the way your brows furrow slightly whenever he shifts in his seat. You’re pretending to be unaffected, as if his presence this close—his breath practically in your space, his eyes raking over you like he’s memorizing every detail—does nothing to you.

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

But Jeonghan knows you too well.

He wonders if you can feel the weight of his gaze as he studies you, cataloging every flicker of your expression, every little movement. The way your lips part slightly when you exhale, the way you press your tongue to the inside of your cheek when the traffic slows.

You’re gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. It makes him smirk.

“You’re staring,” you say, voice clipped.

“Am I not allowed?” he asks, all feigned innocence. He props his chin up on his hand, leaning toward you just slightly, just enough to feel the tension coil even tighter between you.

He watches your fingers tighten just a little more. You don’t look at him. He grins.

“Thought so,” he murmurs, just to be annoying.

You exhale sharply through your nose. “Maybe if you weren’t looking at me like that, it’d be easier.”

“Like what? I’m just looking at my beautiful best friend who happens to be madly in love with me.”

You scoff, shooting him a pointed look, but he just smiles at you, that cute smile he always does when he’s being the picture perfect image of innocence.

He shifts in his seat, lets his hand fall casually onto your thigh. The reaction is instant—your muscles tense, just for a second, but he notices. He always does.

You don’t shove him off. You don’t even flinch. He lets his thumb move, tracing small, slow circles against the fabric of your jeans. Not enough to be obvious, but enough to be felt. Enough to make you react.

“Jeonghan,” you warn.

He hums, fingers pressing just a little firmer. “What?”

“You’re distracting me.”

He exhales a quiet laugh. “Wonder what that must be like.” He muses.

The car slows to a stop at a red light, and for the first time, you turn to face him fully. Your eyes meet his, and god, it’s enough to make his stomach twist. There’s a challenge there, a silent push and pull that makes Jeonghan wonder who’s going to break first.

Just as he’s about to push further, you grab his wrist.For a brief moment he worries that he’s gone too far, made you uncomfortable enough to shove him off, but you don’t. Instead you just turn his hand upwards to intertwine your fingers the way he did before.

“Behave,” you say simply.

And then you’re driving again, like nothing happened.

Jeonghan blinks. His mouth parts slightly, caught somewhere between shock and amusement, and he lets out a quiet chuckle, leaning back into his seat. His knee bounces slightly—he hates how much you affect him. (No, he doesn’t.)"

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As soon as his apartment door closes, your mouth is on Jeonghan’s. Your lips move urgently against his as he smiles into the kiss. When you tilt his chin to deepen it, pushing your tongue into his mouth, he makes a sound he didn’t know he was capable of– something between a whimper and a groan that screamed neediness.

“Angel,” He whines against your lips, hands running up and down your body as he pushes you harder against the door, slotting a leg between your thighs. Your fingers tug at his hair deliciously, soft lips contrasting the way they devour him. You grind against his thigh, sighing at the friction,your hands trailing down his body to tug at his shirt. You break apart so he can tug his shirt off, your hands leaving goosebumps as they trail across the newly exposed skin.

You break the kiss, trailing kisses across his jaw and down his neck, sucking marks onto his collarbone that have his mind reeling, “Please,” His hands squeeze your waist tighter, he doesn’t even know what he’s asking for anymore, all he knows is that he needs more; more of your touch, your lips, your smell, you, you, you.

You smile against his skin, your breath making him shiver as it fans across the wet patch of skin you had been ravishing, “Aww, Hannie,” you coo, “are you getting impatient baby?” Your hips grind into his thigh again and he lets out a shaky breath.

Witchcraft, he decides, is the only explanation to whatever spell you have him under. He nods frantically, hips involuntarily thrusting forward when you chuckle, lifting your face back up to his. The look in your eyes is a cross between adoring and down right evil as you kiss his lips languidly before moving towards his ear, “Think about how I’ve felt all this time.”

The whispered words get lost in his soft groans as you continue to kiss him, grinding harder on him and whimpering against his skin. Suddenly you’re pushing him, not separating your lips as you force him to walk backwards. You know his apartment like the back of your hand– even helped him unpack his moving boxes when he first bought it– so it’s no surprise that you lead him to the bedroom without a hitch, clothes falling off somewhere along the way until you’re standing in front of him, clad in a white set that-

Wow.

If Aphrodite exists, you must be blessed by her, he thinks (not wanting to eternally damn you by saying you rival her beauty—although he definitely wouldn’t say you don’t). The lace hugs your curves perfectly, small bows accentuating every beautiful—fuck, he doesn’t even know what he’s thinking anymore because you just look that good. Jeonghan doesn’t even realize he’s reaching for you, hands hovering in the air between you as if he's scared you’ll disappear if he touches you.

You reach out your hand to intertwine your fingers with his, pushing until he falls back onto the bed before climbing on top of him. You thread your fingers through his hair as you straddle him, kissing him slowly, grinding against his hardness through his boxers. The feeling has his eyes closing, needy groans escaping his lips before he can stop them.

“My pretty baby,” you whisper against his lips, hands tugging in his hair to give you access to his throat again, licking and sucking marks in ways that have his back arching off the bed. Your hands run up and down his torso, hips grinding harder against his prompting a string of curses to escape him as he grabs your hips—to stop you or push you against him more, he doesn’t know. “So needy for me, huh? Who knew that behind your teasing facade you were really just a brat?”

Does Jeonghan have a degradation kink? He didn’t think so until this moment, when his hips buck into yours involuntarily with a whine. “Angel, please, I—I need you.” He practically sobs when you start to climb off him, settling yourself on the bed and spreading your legs open. Jeonghan rushes towards you, breath catching in his throat at the sight of a damp spot in the center of your panties.

He settles himself between your legs, leaving marks on your inner thigh before nuzzling himself against your covered core. The sound of your breath hitching makes him chuckle as he presses a wet kiss directly over the damp fabric, “And you said I was needy.” He mutters, bringing a hand up to slide your panties to the side of your corce, practically drooling at the clear string of liquid that connects them. Unable to help himself, he licks at your entrance lightly, humming at the taste and the way your legs quiver next to him.

“You’re lucky I love you because if there’s one thing you were right about, it's that I am a tease. But tonight?” Jeonghan starts rubbing slow circles over your clit, “Tonight, I’m going to have you shaking under me.” With that, he rids you of your underwear completely before diving into your heat. Your hands once again shoot to his hair, pushing his face further against you as he eats your pussy like it’s his last meal on death row.

“Shit, Hannie, nggh.” You whine above him, moans getting higher in pitch as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly, “Fingers, please– fuck, please.” He isn’t one to deny you when you beg so cutely for him, reveling in the way your pussy practically sucks his finger in. He can feel how tight your walls are, slipping another finger in with ease because of how wet you’ve gotten. All for him. He curves his fingers into a spongy spot that has your back arching off the bed, proceeding to target the spot while attacking your clit with his tongue. The sounds coming from above him is music to his ears, all of his senses taken over by you as he feels you break around him. He doesn’t stop, drinking your juices and bringing you to another high just as quickly, until you’re quivering around him.

He slows down, not stopping but giving you time to catch your breath when you pull him away, bringing his lips back up to yours, not caring that you can taste yourself on his lips. You make quick work of your bra, throwing it to the side somewhere and Jeonghan can’t help but ogle. He sits up, dragging his hands up your bare body and resting them just below the swell of your chest. Slowly, he connects his lips to the skin, closing his eyes as one hand goes to fondle the other. Your hips start moving against his again, sweet moans coming from both of you. Eventually you push him back to the bed so you can appreciate the sight of Jeonghan, face flushed, hair splayed across the pillow behind him, lips parted.

With each rock of your hips, Jeonghan moans louder. Your movements get faster and faster, and so do Jeonghan's moans, the whimpers only making you need him more.

He can hardly stand it, gripping your hips as tight as he can, trying to hold himself back, but the pressure feels so good, and you look so angelic as you rub your bare pussy against him.

You grab his hair and pull his head back. "Fuck," he chokes, looking down at where you're grinding against him. You feel his cock twitch inside his pants, and switch your pace to a quicker rhythm, grinding harder as Jeonghan's eyes darken under you.

He grabs your hips tightly, goes still, and lets out a low whine. You feel his hips jolt beneath you, and you pause. His face is flushed a deep pink all the way to his neck.

You stare in disbelief. Jeonghan hides his face in your neck, holding your body close. You look beneath you, a dark spot forming in Jeonghan's boxers.

"Aw, Hannie," you pull his face from your neck, looking him in the eyes. "My sweet, sweet Hannie." You smile and kiss him slowly, full of adoration and love. You kiss down his neck, making way towards his dick before finally sliding onto your knees on the floor between Jeonghan's legs. You press a kiss to the wet spot in his boxers, looking him directly in the eyes as you do, and feeling him twitch against your lips.

You gently pull his cock out of his underwear, shocked to see him covered in his own cum. He twitches at the contact, sensitive.

"Fuck, you’re perfect."

You teasingly stroke his length and watch him twitch when your thumb runs over the tip. “Please,” he looks up at you through his lashes, pleading, "I need you."

Those words are all you need to hear before planting your legs on either side of him, reaching between your bodies and wrapping your hand around Jeonghan's length. You glide the tip along your entrance, soaking him in your arousal before lowering your hips to slide him inside you. Loud moans escape both of you at the sensation of him filling you. He says your name like a prayer, hands rubbing circles on your hips, not knowing if it’s to ground you or himself. You slowly lift yourself up before sitting back down quickly, loving the way Jeonghan’s head falls to the side. "Shit, pretty. So perfect for me, god."

His grip on your hips gets tighter as you pick up speed, your pussy squeezing around him as if it never wants to let him go. All thoughts are wiped from his brain when you start kissing him through moans, whispering in his ear about how good it feels, how much you love him. He can feel you getting closer, your cunt pulsating with every roll of your hips. He brings a hand to your clit, starting to rub circles when you break, bringing him over the edge with you.

Your body collapses over Jeonghan's, shaking slightly as you come down from your high. Although he’s not in a much better state, he flips you onto your back, slipping out of you despite your protests and appreciating the way his cum drips out of your hole. He makes his way to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth to clean you up a little until he notices you awkwardly waddling in after him. He’s unable to stop the laugh that bubbles in his chest, making you pout as you sit on the toilet to let the cum drain out of you.

Jeonghan leans over, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, and he can’t help but notice how beautiful your smile is—how it lights up your face and his days.

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Epilogue:

Jeonghan doesn’t change. He still steals your food, still drapes himself over you like a cat when he’s tired, nuzzles into your shoulder and complains that you’re too warm when it’s his fault for climbing all over you in the first place. He still teases you mercilessly, grinning that lazy, adorable infuriating smile whenever you roll your eyes at him.

What’s changed is that now, you kiss him to shut him up. And Jeonghan—who spent so long hiding behind his charm, his easy confidence—doesn’t even try to stop you. If anything, he leans into it. Leans into you.

Now, on mornings before class, he walks in with you through the doors of the coffee shop, one arm wrapped around your shoulder as he complains about how early it is, burying his face in the side of your neck. He picks you up in the rain, stays late at the library with you, and drives you home—like it's second nature.

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pinkthxt · 1 day ago

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ExHusband!Simon Riley and a latte

masterlist ⋆.˚

“Coffee looks as bitter as yer piss”

“How the fuck do you know what my piss looks like?”

Soap choked on the coffee he was sipping, hastily setting the white porcelain mug down with a soft clink. He coughed into his fist, scowling. “Ass,” he grumbled before turning his attention back to the newspaper in his hands. Really, who even reads newspapers in this day and age?

Simon had ordered a black coffee. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t right either. No one made it the way his ex-wife did. She knew the perfect ratio of cream and sugar, down to the last grain. Now, it was always too bitter or too weak. Nothing in between.

“Get another coffee. That shit looks like tar,” Soap muttered, setting the newspaper down and eyeing the sludge in Simon’s mug.

Simon didn’t react right away. He simply exhaled through his nose before slipping a hand into his jacket pocket. The leather of his wallet was worn, creased at the edges. He flipped it open and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, holding it toward Simon.

His patience thinned. “I’m not a fuckin’ charity case, John—”

“Get one of them fancy lattes. Maybe that’ll take yer mind off yer issues,” Soap interrupted, tossing the bill onto the table with a flick of his wrist. He picked up the newspaper again, leaving no room for argument.

Simon scoffed under his breath, rolling his eyes as he stood. The weight of his balaclava felt suffocating against his skin, but he adjusted it anyway before making his way to the counter.

The coffee shop felt smaller all of a sudden. The murmur of conversation blended with the whir of the espresso machine, the clatter of mugs, the sharp hiss of steamed milk. He inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted.

“Regular? Uh, we have a wide variety! Vanilla, caramel—”

Simon didn’t let the barista finish. “Vanilla crap, sure.”

The kid at the register nodded hastily, fingers fumbling over the buttons. He looked like he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.

“Name for your o—”

“Riley.”

Simon moved to the “Pick up here!” sign and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. His gaze flickered around the shop, cataloging every little detail. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans, the sound of ice clinking in plastic cups, the faint hum of indie music playing over the speakers.

Then—something shifted.

His breath hitched, though he wasn’t sure why. His eyes locked onto the wooden menu board, but he wasn’t reading it. A sharp pressure bloomed in his chest, creeping up his throat like vines wrapping around his ribs.

His fingers twitched at his sides.

It was subtle at first. The clenching of his jaw, the stiffness in his shoulders. But then, the feeling grew, like a fist tightening around his lungs. He blinked, forcing himself to breathe, but it was too shallow—too fast.

Why the fuck was it so loud in here?

The barista’s voice cut through the static.

“Sir, your latte is done…”

Simon inhaled sharply, like he had been drowning and just broke the surface. He coughed, gripping the edge of the counter to steady himself before swiping the cup from the barista’s hands. His knuckles were white. His palms, clammy.

His feet carried him back to the table without thinking. He placed the mug in front of him with more force than necessary, fingers still curled too tightly around the cup.

John lifted a brow, eyes scanning his face.

“Yer look like shit. The hell did you do, go to war at the counter?”

Simon didn’t answer right away. He stared at the latte, the steam curling upward, vanishing into the air.

“I need to go home.”

John’s expression darkened. “I just got you out of her fuckin’ cot. Don’t tell me you’re itching to go ba—”

“I Need. To go. Home— to her..”

A/N ⋆˚࿔ gotta say, I’m on a roll — love you all!

#swipe a thought #cod simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #simon riley x you #cod #explore #i love him

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oh-phoenixx · 2 days ago

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"Boost" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 1074 words

James had never struggled much with his self-worth, his view of himself. But he had not realised until recently how dependent his pride was on other people’s opinions. So, when James was studying alone with Regulus, and the younger boy did nothing but insult him, he needed a little boost to his confidence.

With a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, James was going to ask someone to be his date, and who—besides Regulus—could say no to a face like his? Now, James hadn’t intended to do this in front of Regulus, it just worked out that way. He spotted Tracy in the library, and realised that she was a girl, at the very least.

“Hey, Tracy,” James called. “Wanna come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Tracy smiled at him and nodded. “Sure.”

James Potter was back in the game, ladies and gentlemen. When he looked back to Regulus, James saw that he was fuming, clutching his quill with a grip hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

“What? Did you want to ask her?” James scoffed.

“No,” Regulus muttered. “Shut up.”

“Wow, great comeback. I’m wounded, Reggie,” James mocked.

Regulus did not say another word for the majority of the study session, simply glaring at James occasionally. James didn’t know what his problem was. The only reason James was studying with Regulus was as a favour to Sirius. Regulus had asked for Sirius’s fifth-year notes, but Sirius had thrown all of his away and knew that James still had some. Out of the kindness of his heart, and his love for Sirius, James had offered to go over them with Regulus, as his handwriting was somewhat…illegible. Despite his generosity, Regulus did not seem at all grateful that James was giving up his time to be here.

“What the fuck does this even say?” Regulus muttered. “How can you possibly have handwriting this awful?”

“Sorry, Mr. I-Write-In-Cursive-Because-I’m-A-Pretentious-Git,” James grumbled. He took the page. “That clearly says unicorn blood!”

“How was I supposed to read that?” Regulus whisper-shouted. “The ink is smeared across the page!”

James frowned at the parchment. “Yeah, I reckon I wrote this one with my left hand.”

“Why would you do that?” Regulus questioned, eyes narrowed as if James was losing his mind.

“I’m ambidextrous,” James said with a grin, though he knew realistically it wasn’t a brag. He was ambidextrous in the sense that both hands were equally as shit.

Regulus just groaned and took back the parchment, continuing to try to decipher James’s handwriting, as he refused to just have it read to him, because ‘I’m not a toddler, Potter. I don’t need a bedtime story’.

On Monday evening, when the two next studied together, James felt somewhat uncomfortable. Strangely, it had nothing to do with Regulus, but with Tracy constantly looking over and smiling at him. James did not like to be this person, he hated being in this position, he hated when people liked him and he didn’t like them back. He felt guilty about leading them on and guilty about breaking it off or rejecting them. There was nothing wrong with Tracy; she was nice, funny, and smart. James wanted to like her back. But his mind seemed occupied, and he didn’t know why.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Regulus sighed. “You could just go if you’re so occupied.”

“Huh?”

“That girl is eye-fucking you,” Regulus mumbled, face hidden by his hand rubbing his forehead as he wrote.

“No, she’s not,” James muttered. “And I’m not interested, anyway.”

Regulus, for some reason, seemed to relax a little at this. They got back to work and James tried his best to ignore Tracy. But, on the way out of the library, Tracy stopped him to talk about the next time they could see each other.

James had a small, minor, tiny problem with wanting everyone to like him all the time. Sure, they were exceptions, like most of the Slytherins. He was a Gryffindor, of course they weren’t going to like him, it wasn’t anything personal. But he had a genuine and all-consuming fear of disappointing people. So, he did the most logical thing. He said: “Uh, sorry, I realised I’m, uh, gay.”

“Oh.” Tracy��s face fell, but she quickly put on a smile. “Good for you, James. Sorry for bothering you.”

As she walked away, Regulus raised his eyebrows. James winced. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings!”

“You know if you ever date another girl she’ll realise you were lying,” Regulus pointed out.

“I wasn’t lying, per se, I was…obscuring half the truth,” James defended. “I’ll just have to find a good guy, then.”

“Too bad Lupin’s taken, I think he’s the only datable person in your entire friend group,” Regulus scoffed.

“Hey, I have very fuckable friends,” James protested, then grimaced. He had a strange instinct to protect all of his friends, though he wasn’t sure any would be happy to hear that he thought this, except maybe Sirius. “Ooo! You could pretend to-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“I could pretend to be your boyfriend?” Regulus asked, eyebrows raised. When James nodded, Regulus shook his head. “First of all, that’s an awful cliché. Second of all, fuck off.”

James groaned and followed after Regulus as he started to walk away. “Come on, you owe me one.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Regulus said.

Now, James didn’t want to get too arrogant or anything, but he was a very persuasive person. He was confident that he could get even Regulus Black, certified-grumpy-piece-of-shit, to listen to him. And, sure enough, after delivering a long and charming monologue about all of his good qualities (Regulus had called it pestering, but potato whatever), Regulus gave in.

So, that evening, Regulus and James walked into the Great Hall together. Regulus turned and left a chaste kiss on his cheek, and oh. Oh, this would be a problem. James stuttered out a goodbye, his face almost seeming to burn where Regulus’s lips had been.

“Bye, Jamie,” Regulus bid. Of course, James knew the nickname was just for show. But, fuck, that didn’t change the way his stomach flipped. He suddenly understood why they called them butterflies.

James sat down at his usual spot, right next to Sirius, face red and realising a lot of things at once.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius hissed.

“I think I’m in love with your brother,” James answered dumbly.

#spreading my james is ambidextrous hc btw #marauders #marauders era #james potter #james fleamont potter #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #marauders microfic #jeggyverse microfic #microfic #starchaser microfic #james x regulus #sirius black

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cha0s-junkie · 3 days ago

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Hello!

I love your Arkuma character so much! Your writing is amazing ❤️ I was wondering how Arkuma would deal with a bratty naughty reader during their first few weeks! Like reader trying their best to fight every little thing from changing to feeding to bedtime. Feel free to ignore this if it's not your vibe!

Love your writing so much once again! Have a lovely day 💖

here is a drabble of that because ppl seem to rlly like this funky guy :)(platonic yan! alien dad oc)

Arkuma is chill, he has so much patience for reader because they're only human. How could he get mad at you! you probably don't even know you're being naughty (you're throwing one of his plates onto the ground on purpose. how tf did you get up there in the first place.) so he'll just wear reader down with his overwhelming affection until they give in.

warnings: infantilization, fluff (?)

"Not this again." You groaned as you saw your alien captor walk up to you with pastel colored pajamas in his hands. He was dangling it in front of you and you immediately knew what he was trying to do.

The first night you came into his home, he had changed you into sleeping clothes while you were passed out. Waking up to wearing something completely different made you spiral.

"No. I'm going to change myself." You told him, shaking your head as he got closer to you. "Get away- I said no!" You feel childish but you run away from him anyways, darting into your room and hiding out under your bed.

Arkuma sighs, standing up straight as he balled up your sleeping clothes in his hand. "Every time." He sighs, entering your room.

He doesn't know why you fight him so hard on this, he's just changing you. He peeks his head into your room but doesn't notice you immediately.

"Little one, I'm just changing you. Sleeping in yesterday's clothes isn't hygienic."

Arkuma waits a moment and hears annoyed grumbling from under your bed. He smiles and crouches down, tilting his head when he sees you.

"Found you," You glare at him, almost giving into your urge to slap his hand away when he reaches towards you. "Ah, ah rules are rules. I caught you, now you have to listen to me."

"Fuck you alien- fuuuuuuck." You whine as he drags you from under your bed and out into the open. More crooning before he lifts you into his arms. You pushed against his hold, beating against his chest. Trying your absolute hardest to get out before he changes you again.

But, damn him, he just thinks you're trying to play with him again.

"If you eat your food without throwing it onto the ground, I swear I will let you wander around today."

He shakes the food cube in front of you, rambling in that language that you couldn't be bothered to try and understand. Pet food in both earth and this alien planet was apparently inedible. The food cube he offered to you tasted disgusting, like unsalted mystery meat. So no way in hell was that going in your mouth again.

You grimaced as he waved it around, moving it closer towards you. You leaned back as far as you could, almost toppling the chair over. No way that was ever going into your mouth again. Your stomach grumbles angrily, you were hungry. But you'd rather starve to death than eat that thing again.

"Your tummy sounds like it wants to eat. C'mon, open up." He opened his mouth slightly, wanting you to follow him. But you pursed your lips even more. Arkuma brings it to your mouth and you finally swat it away.

It lands with a splat on the ground and he sighs. You expect him to get angry with you but he just looks at you with a small smile. He pats your head before getting the food cube off the ground.

"Does it not taste good?" He mumbled to himself as he inspected it, it doesn't look very good. "Alright. Let's try something more yummy, hm? Something my little human will like."

ARKUMA!!! WOO!!1

#parental yandere #platonic yandere #yandere oc #yandere platonic #familial yandere #forced age regression #forced agere #tw yandere #asks nom nom #Arkuma oc

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deathworlders-of-e24 · 1 day ago

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Jane, Medical Technician

Part 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I miss going out,” Jane groaned. With how little foot traffic the med bay was getting, she’d decided to ditch her desk and work from a tablet on the exam table, reclined all the way back so she could lie down. Dr. Huhuma had joined her, hanging up a spare hammock in the exam suite from some surprisingly sturdy cabinets.

“You know?” Jane continued. “Getting together with my friends, dressing up, going to a nice restaurant, catching a movie. I didn’t realize how much… staying in time there’d be on the ship.”

“Well you did sign on for a year long journey,” the doctor said, “I’d have thought someone as smart as you would’ve seen that coming.”

“From a career perspective sure, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but I totally didn’t think about how much I’d miss getting a decent meal.”

“Didn’t you humans develop the Vending Machines for just this purpose?”

“It’s not the same,” Jane complained. “Even the best dish from the machines still has that weird nano particulate taste to it. Like I know it’s all edible and full of the necessary proteins, but it’s not the same.”

“So tell me Jane,” Huhuma looked up from her work, “if you were back on E24 right now, what would you be eating?”

“There’s this amazing ramen shop a few blocks away from my apartment,” Jane said, mouth watering. “I’d get the gyoza, some takoyaki, and a giant bowl of tonkatsu.” Jane laughed as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Then probably some sesame seed balls for a snack later.”

Doctor Huhuma looked at her a moment, a queer look on her face.

“I only understood about half of that,” she said, “I don’t think my translator is working.”

“Oh, it probably got confused, I guess it didn’t translate the food names correctly.”

“So what is all that you were talking about?” she asked.

“Regional food from a country on my planet called Japan. It’s absolutely delicious, especially the takoyaki,” Jane explained. “The meat and the dough taste so good with… remind me real quick, Indoprimes are vegetarian right? Sorry.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” Huhuma brushed her apology aside, “our diet is mostly fruits and vegetables sure, but we still have meat on occasion. See?” Huhuma opened her mouth and pulled her cheek aside, showing a marvelous set of canines and other teeth synonymous with omnivores. “I think I’d like to try this… takoyaki thing.”

“It’s octopus inside fried dough.”

“Oh… definitely don’t tell a Murlant that, I think that species is a cousin of sorts,” Huhuma joked.

“Right, bad idea.”

The two of them laughed, both an easy yet almost unsatisfying sound, at least for Jane. She kept thinking about what Simms had said, how a year could be up before she knew it, and the mission would be over sooner than she thought. He’d already come in that week to clean, but had remained uncharacteristically quiet, refraining from his usual bouts of complaints and grumblings. He’d seemed almost nervous, like some paranoia had slipped in and out his head on a swivel.

What had been even weirder was the message she’d gotten from Thomas. Something about Grite getting a chunk of exoskeleton burned off his foot and to expect what Thomas called ‘their biggest asshole patient yet’. Only, said asshole had never come in, which if Jane was being honest, she was pretty okay with. Grite had already cost one crew member an arm. A little piece of foot was no big deal, especially to a Sed. It’d probably grow back in a week or two anyway.

“So tell me more about E24,” Huhuma pushed her keyboard away and propped her head up with her hand. “I hear such strange things about your planet, they can’t all be true. Like that regional dish, how many regions are there for food?”

“Oh, wow, easily thousands,” Jane scoffed. “I did a residency in Japan before I joined the Academy, it’s an island nation to the east of my home, and if you walked from end to end you’d find different food every couple miles it seemed like.”

“Really?” Huhuma smiled, and Jane had to glance away before that traitorous blush came back to give her away.

“What about your home? Where’s that?”

“Well, I’m from this place called Houston,” Jane explained. “It’s kinda out in a desert, although if you asked Chief Ducane he’d tell you it’s not even close, Arizona is way worse, but anyway, it’s down in the south of my home country. I think you’d like it, you know, if we could keep you cool. The food is…” Jane waved her hands around looking for the words, “like it’s good for your soul, in a way. It’s comfortable. Even if you’re not from there, it’ll make feel like you’re home.”

“That sounds lovely,” Huhuma sighed. “Although whenever I think of home, I get depressed.”

Jane looked over at the doctor.

“Why? What about your tribe?”

“They’re fine, they’re still important to me, of course, it’s just… I didn’t have anyone who I just fit with on my planet.”

Jane didn’t know what to say, and neither of them spoke for a few seconds. When it was still silent, Jane tried to crack a joke.

“Well, you’re in space now, it kinda opens up your options, right?”

Doctor Huhuma raised an eyebrow and smiled softly at her, causing Jane to stop breathing for a moment. If she’d been standing, she’d be embarrassed to admit her legs would’ve buckled.

My god woman get a hold of yourself, she thought. You did not just swoon because she looked at you.

“Well you’re certainly right about that,” Huhuma said, and winked.

Fuuuck, Jane thought, okay, yeah, swoon you bitch, what else are we gonna do here? God damn.

“Right, so, yeah… what, uhh, how’s that going for you?”

“What, are you asking if I have my eye on someone?” Huhuma’s smile deepened. “You could say that.”

And cue internal screaming.

“All this talk of food has got me hungry,” the good doctor continued. “Shall we get lunch?”

“Yup, yeah, okay,” stuttered Jane.

Smooth, girl. Smooth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I mean, she’s gotta be doing it on purpose right?” Jane ranted, her captive audience of Liz and the Sprygan Coco watching her quickly devolve into something on the wrong end of fixated. “Like, after that night with the Scrib, and now the constant flirting, it’s gotta be a green light right? But it’s totally inappropriate, she’s my still my boss.”

“Sure, sure,” Liz said, working out the joints in her cyborg hand with a grip trainer. “So we’re just totally ignoring my therapy now, huh?”

“What?”

“This conversation seems incredibly one sided,” Coco said, sitting in a pot the two had brought with them, slowly ‘munching’ their way through a bowl of chocolate bars like a kid on Halloween.

“Look Jane,” Liz said, “I really don’t think either of us,” she gestured between herself and the tree, “are going be a lot of help to you here hon. This so is not my area of expertise. And besides, whatever we think, we’re basing it on human standards. Maybe it’s different on Indos, maybe this is just normal behavior for them. You should ask Marrin if you want to be sure.” The corner of Liz mouth twitched, and Jane realized she was stifling a laugh.

“Yes, let me go ask my crush’s cousin if I’ve got the go ahead to…” Jane couldn’t even get through the sentence, getting more flustered by the second. “God, why am I like this? I’ve dated before, guys and girls! I’ve never been a mess like this! It feels like I’m stuck in a cross between a teen magazine and a gawky high school girl’s diary!”

“Yeah, I gave up on getting holos from Earth out here, this has taken over for my soaps these days,” Liz laughed.

“So glad you’re entertained,” Jane said dryly.

“If I might interject,” Coco started.

“Please, any advice that isn’t humiliating is welcome.”

“You could simply go talk to the Doctor,” the Sprygan stated, making a gesture with their vines that Jane assumed was a shrug. “It seems all of this is moot unless the doctor reciprocates, yes?”

“I would love to, Coco,” Jane was getting slightly exasperated, “but the whole reason why I’m so in knots about this is exactly because I can’t do that. I feel like a broken record here, but she’s my boss, I can’t just go up to her and-”

“Yes, you keep repeating that,” Coco interrupted, and Jane looked from the Sprygan to her fellow human and back. “On Spryga, we do not have mates as you non-botanical lifeforms do,” they continued, “but that does not mean we do not understand companionship. Our colonies are built on symbiotic relationships. The outer perimeters defend us, the inner circles distribute water and nutrients. Our roots intertwine and our canopies entangle. We are all constantly communicating with each other, from the further sentinel to the most inclosed Elder. So when you say you can’t simply go and speak to her-”

“You tell her, hon!” Liz said, cackling.

“- I am nothing short of confused. It’s utterly baffling. The very essence of this mission is to foster cooperation and relationships between GAIL member species, and I am certain this qualifies as such. So go back to med bay this instant and talk to the doctor.”

Jane stared open mouthed at the Sprygan for a whole three seconds longer than Coco could tolerate.

“Now Human Jane!”

For someone who could only speak through a synthesizer, Coco managed to put emphasis where they wanted. Jane actually flinched at the words before picking her jaw up and jumping for the door.

Liz turned to Coco and tapped the pot with the toe of her shoe.

“That was fucking awesome, honey.”

“It was… annoying to hear the same excuses again,” Coco said, and despite the voice box Liz thought she could hear a sigh. “You humans are tiresome sometimes.”

“I know right?” Liz threw a piece of chocolate in her mouth as Jane quickly strode out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Get it together woman, Jane thought as she walked through the hall of the ship towards Medical. It’s just Huhuma, you can talk to her, you can totally ask if she… returns the favor.

Jane inwardly laughed at the image conjured, which spilled out into the real very quickly. Suddenly she was doubled over laughing, tears quickly streaming down her face as she leaned into the wall to support her as the fit took over her whole body.

Exactly, it’s Huhuma. What the fuck is the matter with me?

Jane let herself crack up a minute or so longer, wheezing and squeaking out little hiccups of giddy before continuing on her way. She ignored the looks and odd stares from the crew who’d seen her snap like a crazy woman in the hallway. Just some more fuel for the humans are weird rumors flooding around the fleets. Standing in the lift now, she wondered what she’d say to the doctor when she saw her. Would she even say anything? Or would she just crack up again and have to explain later that she might just be a little crazy. Yeah, crazy in loOove, she thought, giggling again. Hell, I might as well just go for it. Worst that can happen is I go home early and get some decent food.

Win win, kinda.

The lift doors opened and Jane stepped out, only to quickly jump back into the safe blindspot inside the lift. She wasn’t totally sure why. No, that wasn’t true, she knew exactly why.

There were two Sed standing outside the med bay.

Well, standing was a misnomer for one of them. The one in the white custodian uniform was propped up against the wall, much she’d been not minutes before. They were favoring their left leg, like they’d been hobbled. Jane figured this was probably that Sed guy Grite she’d been warned about. The other she didn’t recognize, so they hadn’t been a patient of hers. They were wearing a yellow communications uniform. The two Sed weren’t exactly being quiet, so Jane reasoned they hadn’t seen her step out of the lift. Despite the warnings and the rumors, there was no real logical reason for her to be hiding. They were all the same crew, weren’t they?

But something kept Jane in the lift all the same. Perhaps it was that she could hear them, and what they were saying didn’t sit well in her gut. Jane carefully poked her head out, just enough to get an eye on them but still be able to jerk her head back out of sight if need be.

“With respect, sir, you have to temper yourself with these Terrans,” said the one in the yellow suit, a woman by the sound of her voice. “These consistent altercations are jeopardizing our mission.”

Mission? The NOAH mission?

“Hold your tongue, Soane. I’m the leader of our squad, your only job is to do as I tell you.”

Definitely a dick, then. And the guys a janitor now, what the hell is he talking about?

“Sir, no one it openly disregarding your orders, but don’t you think it’s time to proceed to the next step?”

“Do your duty, and follow orders given, quoal, or what do you think I will tell my father when he arrives?”

Jane couldn’t see the Sed woman’s face but she could guess what stony expression they were making, getting told off like that. That word Grite had said hadn’t translated, so Jane tapped her ear piece twice to recycle the phrase and tried again.

[Quoal: derogatory; a Sed slur for a lower class individual; foot soldier; born in a lower caste or altitude]

Oh that fucker! Jane thought. She almost wished the Sed man would come into the med bay so she could show off her bedside manners.

Before Jane could give herself away and storm over, the Med Bay doors glided open and Huhuma came out holding a small tray of medical supplies.

“Here,” said the doctor, “bandage him up with these. Or better yet, just get over yourselves and let my nurses treat you.”

“No,” said the Sed woman quickly, and curtly. “No, that will not be necessary. These are… appreciated.”

Jane saw Huhuma lookbetween the two of them before shrugging.

“Best of luck, ensign Soane,” she said.

The Sed woman took the tray and dumped the contents into a pouch on their waste. Huhuma went back inside as the two stony aliens turned away… back towards the lift.

Aw fuck, Jane thought, ducking back into the lift and back against the back wall.

Gotta think gotta think gotta think!!!

Jane smashed her fist against the doors closed button and prayed they didn’t ding when they did that. The lift closed, then just as quickly reopened, with the two Seds standing in the doorway, looking down at her, both literally and figuratively. Even the woman, Soane she guessed her name was, had at least a foot on Jane.

“Excuse me,” she said softly, cautiously trying to slide past them. Grite seemed to want to do something, but given that he winced whenever his foot touched the floor, left it alone, instead continuing to lean on the shoulder of the Sed woman as they shuffled into the lift. Jane scooted out of the way as quick as she could, like a rabbit hopping out of the way of two bucks in the woods. Neither party said anything more, and when the lift doors closed, the ding! made Jane flinch.

And then the lift was away to a different floor, leaving Jane there in the hallway breathing a sigh of relief.

“Well shit,” she said, after her heart rate calmed down a little. “Do I report that or…? Probably, probably. Questions for later.”

“Back to… yup, that, right.”

Jane walked over to the med bay doors, every step simultaneously egregiously long and atrociously short.

Fuck what am I gonna say?

Jane knocked on the door, then cringed, remembering it’s her office too, she could’ve just walked straight in in the first place. The door opened with a whir of hydraulics and then there she was, the good doctor Huhuma, standing in front of her.

“Oh, Jane, hello,” she said smiling. “I didn’t expect to see you again today. Did you forget something?”

The entirety of thousands of years of human instinct rushed through Jane’s body in a single moment.

Fuck it, she thought.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Jane reached out with both hands and grabbed the doctor by the lapels of her lab coat before pulling her into a kiss.

Zero thoughts ran through her head, except to acknowledge how soft the doctor’s lips were. It seemed to go on forever, and when they finally separated, Jane realized she’d been holding her breath the entire time. As calmly as she could, she let her lungs refill with air as she watched the doctor’s face for any sign of… well, anything.

“So,” Huhuma said, blinking a few times, fidgeting slightly from foot to foot. Jane noticed her tail was swaying erratically as well. “Right, well then. You humans are rather forward I suppose. I assumed we’d start with dinner, but whatever you want to do is alright as well.”

“So…,” Jane swallowed dryly, “this is alright with you?”

“Dear, I have been waiting for you to make up your mind for weeks,” Huhuma said. “Honestly I’m going to miss my little game of teasing you, but oh well.” The doctor grinned at her.

Jane looked at her dumbfounded.

“The whole time?”

“Yes, you Terrans are slow on the uptake apparently.”

Jane threw back her head and cackled, Doctor Huhuma joining in soon after.

“Dinner sounds great,” Jane said, stepping back into the hallway, Huhuma close beside her. Their shoulders touched here and there as they walked, but neither made a move to make any space between them.

Down at the other end of the hall, Liz and Coco were walking back to their lab.

“About time,” Liz laughed.

#deathworlders of e24 #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are strange #humans are space australians #earth is space australia #humans are insane #humans are terrifying #writing blog #writblr #lgbtq #original story

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martianbugsbunny · 1 year ago

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What this website really needs is a button that will allow me to filter all y/n content out of my feed so I don't ever have to see it because I absolutely can't stand it, my ass does not want to be in a relationship with my favorite characters my ass wants them to be dating each other

#also no salt at people who do like it it's just really not my personal perference #it just kinda icks me out #also y/n is just awkward to read I'm sorry but it is #(also if u see me posting I wish X was my bf/gf/nbf no u don't and it's a theoretical anyway)#I don't want to read fic about me and Character X #I want to read fics about Character X and Character Y and in some cases Character Z #ALSO IF THERE IS A BUTTON THAT DOES THAT ROAST ME GENTLY #and I don't mean the filtered tags thing bc you can still see the posts in ur feed u just can't look at them #I know it's a semantic difference but it would also be irritating to scroll through a character tag #and be seeing THIS POST CONTAINS FILTERED CONTENT in every two to three posts #anyway that's my little grumble for the evening #once again: no salt to people who like this stuff that's not what we're here for I'm glad it makes them happy #this is literally just my own personal feelings do not assign other motives to it bc I will throw worms at you #that just feels like a thing u have to say on the internet sometimes #martianbugsbunny opines

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bklily · 5 months ago

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I need everyone to STOP BULLYING Chat Noir's new look. He's allowed to be a skrunkly little guy. A dirty, bug ass stray cat. That's his inner passion don't you know. Every time you make fun of him Maribug sobs and cries harder STOP BREAKING HER HEART

(supposedly official renders for S6)

#let him be an off-putting little blorbo #we love him all the same #jokes aside i really dont mind the new renders or new animation style #change is scary but the animation looks very pretty and colorful to me #and even if you dont like it at least be respectful about it #plenty of artists and creatives have worked hard on the new animation they dont deserve all the harassment #this has delved into grumblings but oh well these are MY TAGs i can do what i WANT #anyway i love my silly little new skrunblies #miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #ml season 6 #mlb season 6 #ml paris under siege

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orcelito · 1 month ago

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Bought a stupid suit thing. Disgustang.

#speculation nation #i got it on sale but it was still kinda expensive. ughhhh #hates every part of that. it's so stiff and uncomfortable and unnatural feeling.#but business professional is the recommended attire... so to that i went...#felt bad staying so close to close but the employees were nice about it at least. and i still got out b4 they closed (barely)#i wanted to go shopping earlier today. in between class and orchestra. but allegedly attendance is required in the lab.#so i went. didnt really feel like attendance was taken. but i still went.#still gotta finish prepping my resume but i dont think itll take Too long... i got a template to follow #from my web coding class actually. bc we just happen to have a resume building assignment this week.#so by working on my resume im working on the lab!! yay!!!#except im not doing the lab resume rn. just the normal resume. the template is still helpful tho.#also need to do a bit of research into the companies that are there and the interview style thingie #GOD this is going to be a whole hassle. i dont wanna wrinkle my stupid suit so i shouldnt stuff it in a bag.#and i dont wanna BIKE in the stupid suit. so im thinking of driving up to campus. forking over the money for guest parking #do the stupid career fair then drive back home to change and then go back up to campus on bus or bike in time for bowling #hopefully. we hope. nonzero chance of having to miss bowling and web coding classes tho. depending on how long i spend at this thing.#ultimately career bullshit is more important than one day of bowling so like. whatever.#but i still want a reward for sucking it up and going to the stupid career fair anyways. even tho i Really dont want to.#im already planning on skipping my first class. he made it sound like it would be fine + expected. so we can go to the career fair.#and that opens up a good amount of time so. doing that. and then hoping i can make it to bowling class...#it's funny to imagine if i didnt have time to go back home to change. me showing up to bowling in a suit.#im not doing that tho. this shit was too expensive to risk it doing physical activity.#BLARGH i am so supremely grumpy going to this thing. i dont want to. at all. i hate all this Professional Attire bullshit.#but i need to... and i already went thru the hassle of getting the damn suit... might as well just go.#i will simply pout and grumble the whole way. until tomorrow where it'll be full social smiles and whatever the fuck.#need to get enough sleep to make talking easier. no time for any fun stuff tonight.#need to find my damn. razor. bc i need to shave my little mustache thing probably. for 'professionalism'. ugh.#kicking and screaming this whole way. man i dont think i even own an ironing board. gonna have to hang the shit up and hope for the best #longest sigh imaginable... i just wanna write....... or play video games...... wahhhh #at least itll be over tomorrow. but then i will have to do presentation stuff for thursday. ughhhhhh

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pearl-kite · 2 months ago

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Hate that Trio has renal issues and genuinely requires wet food as at least part of her diet because good lord does she feel entitled to it on command

I'm trying to put it off as long as possible tonight so she doesn't get to feel like she can bully me into feeding her on command and oh my god the sulking that is happening right now

#kite rambles #before this wet food could be a little surprise treat and she would not scare me by inhaling it #can y'all believe I used to be stupid enough to feed her in the morning #if I so much as breathed out of rhythymasdhgbasid #rhythm? rhythm FUCK I hate that word #if I breathed out of that-word before my alarm she was AWAKE and poking my face and scratching the blankets and she would NOT stop #I only really realized I needed to switch to afternoon/evening when I noticed it was happening earlier and earlier #6am? fine she's an extra alarm clock #4:30? good LORD cat #anyway she's finally stopped yelling and started grumbling and has FINALLY decided to just lay in my lap #(I got home 4 hours ago)#the second I stand up she's going to think it's for the food #:C

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whoslaurapalmer · 2 months ago

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okay the actually silly miami vice post i intended to make in the first place. Mom Please Appear In The Living Room And Tell Me What You Loved About Miami Vice Because Now That I Have Seen Some Of It, I Cannot Fathom How You Loved This Show. No No Look See I Get What It's Going For, 100%, I Absolutely See The Vision, You Just Were Not A Grim TV Show Person And Let's Admit This Show Was, I Had No Fucking Idea, GRIM AS FUCK. Was It Because You Were At One Point A Hip 80s Mom And It Was On TV To Watch. Was It Young Don Johnson. It Was Young Don Johnson, Wasn't It. And The Music.

#i genuinely cant even be upset about not being able to ask her. im finding this situation too fucking funny to actually cry.#BC IT'S JUST FUCKING MIAMI VICE!!!!!#like anyone who was once a hip 80s mom in the air tonight was her jam. if we were pulling in the driveway as it came on the radio?#we stayed in the driveway until at LEAST the drums.#anyway ive only seen some of season one and the show in fact gets MORE GRIM as it goes on.#okay i am actually a little upset about it now just bc it's been a long day some of which was devoted to Adulting. and i want a hug.#but i am also reminding myself IT'S FUCKING MIAMI VICE!!!!!!!!!!!#FOR THE RECORD her top fav 80s show was. in fact. moonlighting.#please watch moonlighting. omg. it's so much fun.#TO A POINT she admitted she got grumbly about it at a certain point.#me: mom what was it like when it was airing? like. were you like me and you got obsessed about it bc i can't imagine you doing that.#my mom: oh mostly i sat down to watch it with your dad and punched him in the arm a lot in excitement at a cliffhanger.#my mom: and then we didn't really think about it until next week when the next episode was on.#me: see!!!!! i thought so!!!!!!!!!!

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screampied · 2 months ago

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“you, stop . . moving,” sukuna prowls, the base of his chin sat on top of your thighs.

you were in your usual spot, waiting for him to return from whatever battle had him occupied for half the day. moments later, you’re now slouched back against sukuna’s throne with a very grumpy, pouty demon lying his head against the center of your lap. before you could even part your lips to ask him what happened this time, sukuna grumbles. “bad. very bad day, little one.”

humming, you strum a few feathery fingers toward the pink roots of his hair before softly digging a path through his tender scalp. “oh. well, wanna talk about it?”

“no,” he replies gruffly with an abrupt quickness, his pout growing the more he remembered about his day. however, as your fingers continued to comb through his silk tresses, sukuna buried his face between your thighs. “i need… to recharge.”

“most people would drink water or eat somet-”

“shut up.”

“…..”

slowly peeking from between the warmth of your glued legs, sukuna notices the pausing halt on your fingers that played with his hair and he scowls. oh, he’s pouting, and with a cute, annoyed grumble, he avoids your gaze.

“i told you to shut up, not . . to stop doing that. go on. hmph.”

rolling your eyes, you gave him a subtle head pat before hearing a loud sigh exit between your thighs. he’s usually never this clingy, and you remained quiet - wondering just what happened in his day for him to behave so … needy.

your fingers resumed its maze through his scalp tenderly, and his long lashes fluttered close - a soft content sigh dragging away from his thinly parted lips. in a way, you had to admit — this looked silly.

a huge, burly thousand-year-old curse of a demon positioned between your thighs. it was merely comical, and yet, sukuna could really care less.

the king of curses didn’t have a weakness - except you.

“mmgh-” he’d grunt, tilting his head to the left before he felt your thumb gingerly scratching behind his ear. for a second, you think you saw his nose twitching too. sukuna’s pink brows were still forcibly furrowed together, perfectly expressing his stubborn frustration before he let off another noise.

this time though - it’s different . .

it’s a subtle, cooing ‘rrrrr’ sound that’s deeply low. the entire sound alone from sukuna makes your thighs shake a bit and you look down at him with a perplexed look.

“ ‘kuna?” you murmured, the swirling circles of your finger stopping once again. a cunning grin gradually creased against your lips before you gasped. “did you just … purr?”

“i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“that noise you just made.”

sukuna rolls his eyes, his scratchy voice a bit muffled from how he nearly sank between the arc of your thighs. “pft. i was clearing my throat, obviously. you humans and your delusions-”

“nooo, i heard it,” you cheekily simpered, pinching his cheek. that earned a disgusted glower from him before you brought your fingers back toward behind his ear. “i scratched behind hereeee ‘n then . . you made that sound.”

the demon’s breath hitched once he felt the tip of your stubby thumb leisurely trail its way near behind his ear. instantaneously, his ear even twitched at your delicate touch and his eyes were just whining for more. for once, sukuna doesn’t have a witty remark and he’s just allowing you to toy your fingers against his balmy skin.

“stupid …. it wasn’t a purr. that’s insulting.”

“oh, my bad. what was it then?”

sukuna glares at you, and you return with a smug expression. damn.

sighing, sukuna’s shoulder slacken. “whatever. anyways,” he grumps, his chin sitting back onto your right leg. crimson eyes flicker up toward you before he pouts. “scratch behind my ear again. see what happens.”

“or what, you’ll purr again? ooh. scary.”

sukuna’s cheeks were so flushed - on the very cusps of shading into a bright hue of vermillion before he scoffs. “ha! do it. you wo- mmmmrr-”

cutting him off, you give him a good scratch behind his ear once more, and again—that sound comes out. a soothing, content purr from sukuna that cutely makes his whole body faintly rumble against your thighs.

it wasn’t just the purring, it was all of his changing body language that occurred too.

whenever your fingers would swiftly dash across the sensitive territory that was located behind his ear, sukuna turned into an entire different person. his eyelids would hang low, his nose would twitch, and his usual grumpy expression would slowly switch to a more… tame one.

it’s like your fingers had some sort of magic, and it irritated him but it also made him . . craving more of your touch. “there there,” you hummed, feeling him relax against your touch. your fingertips were always so gentle, dancing down the outer edge of his ear as the low, purring noise continued.

it only lasted for a few seconds but to sukuna, it felt like many, many hours..

the scratching had him nearly hypnotized - and he was already closing his eyes, forgetting all about his horrible day. you silently watched as the curse’s pink slit brows curled apart from its usual furrow, and you could almost see his pout turning into a tiny smile.

it’s a half-almost smile, and sukuna’s starting to feel himself eventually falling asleep.

“such a cat,” you teasingly mumbled, hearing his ragged breaths suddenly come to a mesmeric slow. sukuna deeply sighs, cool puffs of air from his nostrils falling against your thighs. you weren’t sure if he was fully asleep or not, so you gave him a soft poke.

nothing.

giggling, you laid back against his throne as he remained in his same spot—head laid on your thighs as he was kneeling before you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen sukuna so relaxed. he’s usually so angry - so full of hate and uncontrollable rage but now, he looks finally at peace.

at peace in his favorite spot - between your thighs.

in a soft lulling voice, you gave his head a small pat before leaning down to kiss his forehead. “i love you, ‘kuna. sleep well.”

“hng- i love …. you too, little one.” he’d groggily reply, pressing plush lips against the crevice of your thigh.

“never talk about this again, by the way. or els-”

you interrupt his tiny threat by scratching behind his ear one more time and sukuna purrs even louder than before. it’s more high-pitched this time, and he opens his eyes before a pink tint spreads across his face once he realized he purred again.

“d- damn it..”

#★vegasbaby.#he's so cat 🤒#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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lxnarphase · 4 months ago

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𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ #[💳] kento .ᐟ

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