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#but I have fallen in love with his boyfriend
axxa-the-allikatt · 3 days
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Imagine.
Loser Shinichiro, who hasn’t been in a single relationship, realisation hitting him hard that he’s into guys, the moment Wakasa introduces you to him.
Loser Shinichiro, who’s fallen so hard, so fast, that his first interaction with you, ends with him tripping over some mechanical parts in his shop, and crashing towards you, falling right into your strong arms.
Loser Shinichiro, who doesn’t deny it when his friends tease him about having a crush on you, and they finally realise it’s because he does.
Loser Shinichiro, who, after a lot of persuasion from his friends, finally asks you out on a date, and actually faints when you agree.
Loser Shinichiro, who, as usual messes up the date so bad, that he believes that you should ignore him from here on.
Loser Shinichiro, who’s heart stops beating, when you crash your lips on his, as you drop him off to his house, telling him what a fool he was, but lucky for him, that was just your type.
Loser Shinichiro, who silently walks into his room, making his siblings and friends worry that he had been rejected again, until they hear him squeal like a girl in love, which he damn right was.
Loser Shinichiro, who gets all flustered when you come to his shop the next in the evening, asking his friends if you could borrow him for another date.
Loser Shinichiro, who blushes as you tell him to choose anything he wants to do, because today, you wanted it to be his day.
Loser Shinichiro, who, after going out for a few months, finally gets the courage to ask you out, but messes it up so badly you don’t even realise he was asking you to be his lover.
Loser Shinichiro, who ends up crying when, later that day, you ask him out on another date, but this time for a picnic under the moonlight, where you take his hand in yours, telling him how he’s the sweetest, albeit stupid, person you’ve ever met, and would he give you the pleasure of calling yourself his boyfriend?
Loser Boyfriend Shinichiro, who has a breakdown almost every time you take him out, for almost an entire month, because he still hasn’t processed that your his.
Loser Boyfriend Shinichiro, who finally, finally knows what it feels like to be loved in a way that no other person has ever made him feel.
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Istg he is such a loser (affectionately). Like ugh, fuck all the girls who rejected him, but thank god too. Because if he’d actually had a girlfriend, half of the fandom whould’ve ignored her existence in most scenarios smh. I started writing this with something more… eheheh you know… in mind. But then he’s such a sweet loser that I couldn’t bring myself to write anything like that without actually giving him some fluffy story first.
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mywritersmind · 12 hours
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DRUNK THOUGHTS - LN4
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summary : He’s drunk and on a dock, nothing can go wrong. Except maybe him confessing his love to his taken best friend.
listen up : drunk lando! reader has a bf but no cheating involved!! maybe a pt.2 but prob not? i’ve kinda been unmotivated but if u have ideas my requests are open!
word count : 653
⋆。‧˚⋆
I find him on a dock, his arm touching the water and his body laying down to face the stars.
I wobble down the wooden path, taking my heels off and pulling my dress down a bit. I’ve been drinking and dancing all night, yet my experience doesn’t even come close to Lando’s night.
He turns his head when he hears my footsteps, “Wanted to make sure you were still alive.” I look at his body, he’s in baby blue pants and a half undone shirt.
I left my boyfriend who was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes to come check on him, feeling a bit tipsy and more than happy to be alone with him.
“Y/n!” He grins and points at me, yup he’s definitely drank more than me, “Hi!”
I laugh and squat next to him, “Hi Lan. Fun night?”
“Oh definitely!” he giggles, his hand patting the place next to him. I sigh and lay down, looking up at the night sky. “You?”
“Very fun.” He’s looking at me still, I glance to him, a curl fallen into his face and his eyes are all soft and shaded from the lack of light.
It’s almost unfair, how beautiful he is.
“I like your dress!” He smiles, his hand gently running against the hem of it. It’s small and black and his touch makes goosebumps run through me.
“I like your necklace.” I reach over and run my fingers over his logo, “Very nice.”
“Would be nicer on you.” Lando’s always like this. Drunk or not, he’s a flirt.
“Ya think?”
“I know.” He looks back up like it’s nothing, “Would be even nicer if it was the only thing you were wearing.” the words come out so quick and easy that I almost think I hallucinated them. Lando’s flirty, sure, but my boyfriend is almost always around so he doesn’t mess around too much.
Apparently drunk him does.
I practically choke, “Oh?”
His head turns to me again, his eyes roaming my features, “You're so pretty.” He says softly, “Like really reallyyyy gorgeously you.”
“I- thank you?”
“Everyone thinks it. All the guys who stare at you but they don’t get it. Not even your lover boy.” He shakes his head matter of factly, “No no no. I do. I hate those guys.”
“What guys?” I laugh.
“You do not have very good vision.” He smacks his lips together, “Everyone looks.”
I laugh, honestly thinking he’s joking, “They’re always looking at you- the famous one.”
He shakes his head again, adamant I'm wrong, “No no pretty. They don’t give a nothing about me.”
“I think you do pretty well.” I raise a brow, “You were basically followed by a group of girls down here.” I’m not sure where they went but they were fawning over Lando.
He shrugs, “Bachelorette party. It’s basically my job.” I laugh and he looks offended that I did, “I wish you followed me.”
Suddenly his words aren’t funny anymore.
“But your bloody boy…” He makes a disgusted face, I thought he didn’t mind him. “Bleh. You’re better.”
“I didn’t know you disliked him.”
“Why would I like the bloke who’s in love with the girl I'm in love with?” His casual tone strikes again, this time stabbing me through the heart. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. I thought my own feelings had gone long before this trip- before my boyfriend!
I can’t fancy Lando and he cannot be in love with me.
“You’re so drunk.” I laugh it off but he just stares at me. He doesn’t seem to know that he just said he loves me.
“Drunk words are-”
“Sober thoughts.” I finish for him, His body shifting to lay on his stomach, an arm across my waist. “Yeah I know.”
“You always understand me.” He whispers and it breaks me in two. “Thank you.”
“Let’s get you back, Lan.”
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stellarbit · 11 hours
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hi big fan but too scared to publicly request 😭
could u do the Bad Batch boys reacting to female reader having a boyfriend they didn't know about? like maybe they're on break at the barracks and she starts dressing more revealing and cute and then leaving and they spot her with a man 😭
but ofc, because we love our clones more then other men, something needs to go horribly wrong so she splits up with them and comes back crying or something. you can add whatever twist you want, but (projecting here) perhaps the man was just trying to rush physical things with her and treating her like an object from the beginning and she just wanted to impress him until he started making her uncomfortable. hmm, very specific 🤔
anyway, love your writing so much. thank you 🙏
Your wish is my command
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Word Count: 3.3k Pairings: Mostly platonic Bad Batch x fem!reader Warnings: objectifying d-bag bf, lil violence, a beer or two, jealous men Summary: The Bad Batch are back on Coruscant and looking for a night out with you. They find you and your new, unsavory boyfriend.
Frustrated and edged with exhaustion, Crosshair stomped onto the Marauder. He’d spent the last hour scouring the upper level of Coruscant for you to no avail. You’d missed your usual visit with the men of Clone Force 99 when they were on-world.
Visiting you became routine after their first visit to the Capitol. They’d come for special training before they were even assigned their signature armor. Ready for a taste of the real world, they’d snuck out into the city on their first night and right into the arms of swindlers. 
Somehow they’d fallen into the sights of a charming group of people you were all too familiar with. You watched the whole scene unfold from the balcony of your apartment. They promised to show the men a ‘good time’ and you knew that came with some unsavory consequences.
With nothing better planned for your night, you intervened and saved the men from, at the very least, being scammed. It turned out to be an unforgettable night with four new friends to boot and, when leave allowed, they’d find you for some fun.
So, with a few days between mission briefings and not knowing when they’d have leave again, the Batch tried to track you down. The problem was that this time they couldn’t find you anywhere - anywhere being your home or at the store you worked. 
Tech stayed with the ship while the rest looked for you. Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo were the first to turn in, leaving Crosshair to finish the hunt.
Hunter and Echo hung around the cockpit while Wrecker kicked back in a chair near the nav screens when Crosshair returned. As he sunk into the open nav chair next to Wrecker, Tech, wiping his hands on a rag, came aboard. 
Wrecker swiveled to face Crosshair with his head cradled in his hands. “Still can’t find her?”
Leaning onto his elbows, Crosshair growled into his hands. “What gave it away?”
“Did you check her coordinates?” Tech asked, seemingly exasperated by their wasted efforts.
“And how would we check her coordinates?” Echo scoffed from the cockpit. He and Hunter meandered their way towards the other three.
Tech looked between his brothers, disturbed by their blatant ignorance. “With the tracking device I gave her.”
Crosshair’s head shot up, masking his interest with a show of distaste, “You put a tracking device on her?”
Clearly offended by the idea, Tech snapped back, “No.” She wanted to make sure we could find her easily.” The silence that fell between them suggested they didn’t believe him. 
“You were all there.” He insisted, waiting for them to remember only to be met with silence. Sighing, Tech’s shoulders fell and he raised his forearm as he muttered, “Must’ve been when we were alone.”
Wrecker shot forward in his seat, jabbing an accusatory finger at Tech. “When were you alone with her?” The corner of Tech’s lips ticked up as he tapped through his controls, but he didn’t grant Wrecker a response.
They all seemed to forget that Tech kept plenty of information close to the chest. He also tended to be the more sober one of their nights out. They called him a lightweight, but having found it leant him private time with you he called it a fair trade.
After a few seconds, Tech pinpointed your location. Something caught in his throat when he saw how close you were. Tech proudly announced, “Found her. She’s at a lounge one sector over.”
His earlier annoyance faded as Crosshair pushed a toothpick into his smirk, “Sounds like she might need some company.”
“Well boys,” Hunter spoke up with a grin. Tossing a thumb in the direction of the exit he asked the group, “What do you think? Should we crash her night?”
Wrecker bounced up, filling the Marauder with a loud laugh. “You kiddin’? I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”
The men wasted no time in heading your way. Wrecker and Hunter led the group through the crowded streets, followed by Crosshair and Echo with Tech trailing behind with his face in a datapad, making sure they didn’t lose track of you.
Crosshair, noticing Echo’s half-worried look, tapped Echo with his elbow, “Lighten up, Echo. You might have fun for once.”
Used to Crosshair’s prodding, Echo rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice, “Yeah, well some people don’t like surprises. This is either going to be fine or be a complete disaster.”
“Most likely a disaster.” Tech chimed in from the back.
You were only a few minutes away in a dark, basement floor lounge. Amongst a smattering of half-empty booths and dim lighting, you stood near the bar with a small group of men. 
In the time between Clone Force 99’s last visit and now, you’d fallen in with a man you’d met through work. He was nice enough, persistent in pursuing you and his attention wasn’t unwelcome.
You found yourself answering his calls, meeting his friends, and spending time with him on your days off. Slowly the casual company became intimate and so you stood amongst his friends, in a dark lounge with his hand on the small of your back. The dress you wore, chosen by your new boyfriend, was a little tight for your taste and exposed nearly all of your back.
He claimed it would boost your confidence. The twirling he had you do for his friends suggested it was for his own ego.
Your partner promised you’d be gone by midnight - a promise he’d broken more than once so far. Impatience and boredom dragged the night out, soothed only by cocktails and the bracelet you fidgeted with.
It was a handcrafted gift from Tech and their way to find you. You’d asked for the device in hopes that it would make you miss them less.
It didn’t. You decided that next time you were getting their comm channel out of them even if by force. If there was a next time.
Distracting yourself from the idle conversation around you, your eyes drifted around the mostly empty room. The music was as low as the lighting, only meant to allow conversations to remain private.
The group was having a fun time, some of the jokes even broadened your smile, but generally you were counting the minutes until you could leave. 
Commotion echoed down the front stairwell, breaking the calm of the establishment. Loud, booming laughter quieted your group, piqued your interest, and dialed your attention onto a familiar sound. Your heart stopped when you recognized the sound of shifting armor. For the first time all night, a genuine, albeit hopeful, smile brightened your face.
You stopped breathing all together when the Bad Batch stepped into the room. As impressive as the first time you saw them, your five friends fanned out with each of them scanning the room. Crosshair, ever the eagle eye, spotted you and shoved the brother beside him, Tech, with his elbow.
They were looking for you, you realized. The thought propelled you towards them, your feet barely touching the ground.
You’d not seen the Batch in months. A part of you had worried for the worst - that you’d never see them again. That nagging part of you grew larger than you’d realized, big enough that the relief of seeing them nearly reduced you to tears.
“C’mere, Mesh’la!” Wrecker bellowed, catching you in his arms as you hurled yourself at him. His hands scorched your back, a sensation you’d not felt in the months of their absence.
The harder you held onto Wrecker the more his armor dug into you, making it even harder to breathe through your excitement. When he finally set you down, you immediately latched onto the next closest man, Echo.
The smell of you overwhelmed him for a moment and he had to bite back a groan when he caught a sight of your exposed back. Echo couldn’t even return the gesture before you pulled away and whacked his chest plate. 
Stiffening your lip, you made a poor attempt at a scowl.
Hunter stepped in on you, not hesitating in wiping away your budding tears. “That look says you didn’t miss us too much.” Being so close to you after so long gave him half a thought to kiss you.
“The tears had me fooled,” taunted Crosshair from somewhere beside Wrecker.
Despite the half-assed scowl, a smile broke through and relief warbled your voice. “Do you even know how long it’s been?” You demanded, casting a look between them all.
Tech came to your side, plucking up your wrist for inspection. “Ninety-eight standard rotations.” He said casually, removing your bracelet without looking up.
The anxiety that spiked as he let you go forced your hand to keep him close. Your touch snapped his head up and you tilted towards him, playfully purring, “Aw, you missed me enough to count?”
He opened his mouth, some witty remark surely on his tongue, but a different voice piped up.
“Should I assume these men are your friends?” Your boyfriend said from behind you. You’d all but forgotten where you were and who you were with. 
Immediately releasing Tech, you turned away from the clones, pivoting to stand between them and your partner. Flashing a weak smile you waved in the direction of the Batch, meaning to introduce them.
Crosshair cut you short by stepping forward, putting himself halfway between you and your partner. Sporting a challenging smile, Crosshair looked the stranger up and down. Clearly unimpressed he scoffed, “What’s it to you?”
A pit formed in your stomach when your boyfriend planted his hand on your back. The possessive touch didn’t carry the same flame Wrecker’s did, something you’d not realized up to that point.
“I try to make a habit of knowing my girlfriend’s friends.” Your partner said, accentuating the sentiment with a kiss to your temple.
Slightly horrified Tech recoiled, incredulously parroting in unison with Hunter, “Girlfriend?”
It would’ve been impossible to inform them while they were away, and you certainly owed them no explanation, nonetheless shame crept through you. Avoiding the eyes of your friends, you grinned at your boyfriend, “Let me introduce you to the finest soldiers the Grand Army of the Republic has to offer.” Proudly inhaling your smile grew and you added, “And my friends.”
Looking between your boyfriend and the group, an odd thought occurred to you. You’d never realized the man beside you was on the short side. Shorter even Hunter at least.
Wrecker placed a hand over his chest, mockingly cooing to Crosshair, “Aww, she likes us.” 
Crosshair snorted, when it wasn’t directed at him Crosshair went along with his Wrecker’s goading. Crossing his arms and leaning towards his larger brother, the sniper mused “She’s even blushing.”
Your boyfriend snapped his head towards you, annoyed to see that you were indeed blushing. He’d not seen you get this easily worked up. Although he knew from the moment you ran into Wrecker’s arms that he wanted you nowhere near the men. 
Slowly scanning your form, a condescending smile perked Crosshair’s lips. “Didn’t know that was your style,” He nodded at you, obviously referring to your outfit.
Crosshair never failed to pull a reaction out of you, this time you were  interrupted by your boyfriend slipping his hand up your back and down your arm. The action knotted frustration in your throat as it was what he had done with his friends. 
The longer Crosshair watched this man with his hands all over you, the harder Crosshair bit down on his toothpick. Since you’d first coerced him to dance, Crosshair’s own hands still ached to find their way back to your waist.
And just as he had with his friends, your boyfriend lifted your arm by your hand. He gave you a light jostle, encouraging you to spin around. “It suits her, doesn’t it? I picked it out myself.” 
Where the eyes of his friends felt oily and unwelcome, you only felt heated embarrassment in front of Clone Force 99.
The dress flattered you and you could admit that, at times, you’d imagined how it’d feel for the clones to see you in something like it. You wondered what it would be like for even one of them to see you as more than a friend. To find you attractive. Maybe even want you. But not like this.
Unbeknownst to you, the men did find you attractive. Exceedingly so even. You were a breath of fresh air for them and the only glimpse of normalcy they had. 
As opposed to spinning, you tried to tug your hand free as you mumbled under a smile, “I don’t want to do that.”
Hunter and Echo exchanged a confused look. Just as your boyfriend hadn’t seen this excited side of you, the Batchers hadn’t seen you like this. You looked uncomfortable.
Meanwhile, your boyfriend firmly held your hand. Groaning, he tilted his head back in feigned exhaustion. “Babe,” he dragged the word out before speaking to you like he was correcting a child. “We talked about this, lighten up and give us a spin.” 
Hunter caught you off guard when he pulled your hand free. While he kept his touch soft in light of whatever new boundaries your boyfriend posed, he wasn’t going to watch you be pushed around. Unwilling to risk your discomfort, he made sure to step out of your space quickly.
You almost stepped with him.
“She said ‘no.’” Hunter said with the authority of his rank. 
Your boyfriend scoffed and drew back in disbelief. “I’m sorry, where did you all even come from?” Either out of misplaced bravado or from the liquid courage, he advanced on Hunter. “Don’t speak for her.”
Blinking away the irony, you tried pulling him back. “He wasn’t,” you whispered in attempts to soothe him.
He yanked out of your touch, earning a growl from Wrecker. Raising his voice in challenge, your boyfriend insisted, “No, I think he was.”
Ever the voice of reason, Echo stepped in beside Hunter. “Why don’t we just take a breath?” Echo’s hazel eyes fell to you, brows pulling together in a silent question.
“I’m fine, Echo.”
“You’re fine?” Your boyfriend whipped his irritation around on you. A beat of fury pulsed between you and all you could do was smile awkwardly. How had this escalated so quickly?
“I’m sorry,” You chuckled in astonishment. “What’s going on with you?”
Neither of you backed down, in fact he only pushed harder by angling his face into your space. “What’s going on with me?” The smell of liquor on his breath finally connected the dots for you. “What other friends do you have that I don’t know about?” 
Suddenly, something caught his eye. Turning his attention to Tech, your boyfriend pointed at your bracelet in Tech’s hand. “What are you doing with that?” He asked suspiciously.
Tech, who had been silently picking the stranger apart, gave a scornful roll of his eyes. Tucking the accessory away in one of his many pockets, Tech said in a dry tone, “I don’t believe what I do with my gift is of any importance to you.” He may or may not have purposely mentioned ‘my gift.’
Wearing a confident smirk, Tech looked directly at the man beside you as he said, “It suits her, doesn’t it?”
As if on cue, your boyfriend gave you a seething, sideways glance, playing right into Tech’s hand.
Heaving a sigh, and trying to lend him the benefit of the doubt, you made another attempt at directing him away from your friends. “Why don’t you-”
This time he smacked your hand hard enough that it stung. This was a side of him you’d not expected and it was not one you liked. 
A snarl rippled through Crosshair as he lunged between you, put his hand over your boyfriend’s face, and thrashed him backwards. Wrecker cackled, only encouraging a wicked smile from Crosshair as he shifted over your splayed out boyfriend.
You winced at the spot of blood coming from his nose. Notably, though, you didn’t intervene this time.
Wrecker came around to you, resisting the urge to step the man on the ground by completely passing over him. Gently, he lowered himself to your eye level and lifted your hand. His touch felt so different from that of the man you were seeing, it made you completely forget the feeling in your hand.
They all made you feel so different. You’d missed them much more than you’d realized.
“You alright, Mesh’la?” Wrecker swiped his palm over your cheek and down your neck to rest on your shoulder.
The soft smile you offered him swelled something in Wrecker’s chest. Your presence created a soft spot in his life, making it harder to leave you with each trip.
You laid a hand over the massive one on your shoulder, “I’m fine, really.” Although it probably wasn’t ‘fine’ that you had to reassure them all over the behavior of someone meant to be your partner.
From the ground, the man in question snickered, “I see it now.” Pushing up onto his elbows, he spat, “You’re just a barracks bunny.”
The insinuation was lost on you but not Echo.
Echo lurched through the group, shoved Crosshair aside and ripped the drunken man by his collar. “You little scumslug!”
For what seemed like the first time ever, Echo had to be the one restrained. Hunter broke in and yanked Echo up before he could drill his scomp into the downed man. You and the rest of his squad all wore similarly surprised expressions. 
Seeing Echo lose his temper was the breaking point for you. The man you’d allowed into your life was still panting on the ground when came to stand over him. He didn’t say anything, knowing full well what the look on your face meant.
“Don’t call me again,” You muttered dismissively and said nothing else as you turned to leave, waving for the others to follow. “Let’s go guys.”
They all followed suit, except for Crosshair. He crouched onto the balls of his feet and leveled a sneer to your newly dubbed ex. Low enough for just the two of them to hear, Crosshair said, “We’ll know if you bother her again.” The sniper drew just an inch closer to hiss, “Come near her again and you’ll never see daylight again.”
Crosshair sat still for a moment, ensuring the promise properly sunk in. Having watched the color drain from the man, Crosshair flicked his toothpick into the sad sack’s face.
When you all finally made it back to your place, it was decided that a quiet night in was well deserved for you all. It didn’t exempt the night from at least a few drinks.
Returning from your kitchen with a round of beers, you settled onto your couch between Echo and Tech. Wrecker lounged on the floor while Crosshair and Hunter occupied the remaining arms chairs.
They regaled you with stories from the front lines in exchange for the quiet comfort of your company. Eventually, you reclined against Tech, eyes shut, as he scrolled through his datapad.
“Echo.” You said, seemingly out of nowhere. Peaking an eye open you lilted a suspicious smile his way. 
Mid-sip, Echo could only hum in acknowledgment. When you asked, “What’s a barracks bunny?” He nearly choked on his drink.
“Yeah,” Wrecker blurted out, the confusion coming back to him. “I was wondering that too?”
All eyes were on Echo as a flush came over him. It hadn’t dawned on him that the men of his new squad had little experience with typical trooper slang or the rumors regarding some regs.
“It’s...” He stuttered to get the definition out, ultimately shaking his head and setting his beer aside. Passing the buck to Tech, he chuckled, “You know what, Tech why don’t you put the holonet to good use and look that one up yourself.”
taglist: @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what @jetii @zahmaddog
a/n: Thank you to everyone who offered me their words of support over the last month. It's been a really dark time and I'm always amazed by how lovely this fandom is. I'm forever grateful to all you barracks bunnies out there.
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I seriously love how you write Raph your depiction of him is so aligned with mine. Practically perfect and it really inspires me to expand on my own headcanons of him. I also just really like your style of writing!
I want to know what Raph would be thinking, how he’d react, to his muscular, androgynous s/o wearing a red sundress with their back out and thigh muscles peeking through the fabric
- 🌠
I hope this is okay. Red is feeling sassy today. 😈
Christmas in August
Gn reader x Raphael
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August in the city is a special kind of hell. Between the reflections on the buildings magnifying the heat, and the asphalt trapping it, street level was more or less unbearable.
You don't wear short dresses often, you've always been a little self conscious about your legs, but you've been working out recently, with the world's hottest coach, and you're feeling a bit more confident about your body lately.
You turn and admire yourself in the mirror. Not bad. A vintage low-backed halter dress, coming to just above mid thigh, in fire engine red. A lucky find while thrifting with April. You smirk wickedly, thinking about your boyfriend.
You have a shopping date with April in about an hour, and when you didn't find your wallet in your apartment, you had an excuse to torture your beloved.
Grabbing a pair of black retro sunglasses, and throwing on a pair of keds, you make your way out of your apartment and into the oven that has become New York City.
You thank any and every possible supernatural force that Donnie had finished fixing the elevator in the garage last weekend, grateful you dont have to traverse the sewers in this heat, and make your way to the lair.
You step out into the garage, the sounds of the resident mechanics at work echoing off the walls.
"I got it!"
"Do you?!"
"I got it! Just grab the damn jack!"
Raphael holds the front end of the garbage truck aloft, while Donatello reaches under to grab the jack that has slid underneath.
You walk past your boyfriend with a wave of your fingers on your way into the lair, knowing better than to interrupt the mechanics at work. Donnie nearly doesn't make it out alive when Raph drops the truck.
You can hear Donnie yelling at him as you walk into the lair, a smirk turning your lip. Exactly the reaction you were hoping for. You head toward the kitchen and grab a soda from the fridge.
He takes a few steps towards the kitchen with a wicked smile. You are here, and you are hot, and you all his (at least until you have to meet up with April). But he stops, just for a moment, replaying your entrance in his head. He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. There it was, that damn smirk as he dropped the truck. Okay, fine. You wanna play games? He'll play.
All day long, he acts as if nothing is different. Even when Mikey goes gaga over your dress, he only nods. "Of course they look good, they always look good."
When Leo nearly chokes on his coffee as you walk by and tells you how incredible you look, Raph walks by him to pick up his phone off the couch without a word.
He only comes close to breaking once.
You walk into the weighroom, pretty sure your wallet had fallen out of your bag yesterday. Crossing to the bench on the other side, you start looking around.
Spying it on the floor, you brace one hand on the bench, reaching over it with the other and fuck he almost takes you right there. Your dress rides high, giving him a full view of your thighs and just a little of your ass. He catches the black lace panties peeking out from between your legs and groans internally. You were hot before, let's be real, but you've been working out with him lately and it's paying dividends.
He licks his lips as you stand and his eyes trail up your spine, watching the way the muscles he helped you build move.
One deep breath and the mask is back in place before you turn around.
By the time you're ready to leave, you're trying not to show your disappointment. You were really hoping for *some* kind of reaction from your boyfriend. He almost feels bad for fucking with you. Almost.
He offers to walk you out, and he places his hand at the small of your back as you step into the elevator, deflated.
The moment the doors close, you're up against him with your back against his plastron and his thigh between your legs, braced against the door. His hand holds you against him just below your navel, and his head is buried in your shoulder.
"You really think you can show up wrapped up like a god damn Christmas present all for me and expect me not to unwrap you?" His breath pours over you like warm honey as his voice melts into your skin. "Baby, I'm just waiting till Christmas."
You can feel the rumble in his chest at your core, and he rolls his thigh forward, just to make his point, "I'll see you tonight," his voice drops into a growl you can feel inside your chest, "and don't you dare take that dress off."
The doors open, and he sets you down on wobbly legs, just outside the elevator. When you turn around to look at him as the doors are closing, the bastard is leaning against the back wall, arms crossed, looking you up and down and smirking like the devil he is. "Mmm-mm," he hums appreciatively, his voice laced with filthy promises, as the doors rattle closed.
.....
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chlobliviate · 3 days
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Wolfstar Microfic - Azkaban
Words: 993
@wolfstarmicrofic
TW: suicidal ideation in a hyperbolic way
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The first night that Sirius spent at Remus’ cottage after being ordered to ‘lie low’ there wasn’t ideal. Nobody wanted to wake up their ex-boyfriend with their night terrors. Nobody sane, anyway. Sirius wasn’t entirely sure which side of that line he fell on anymore, but when he woke up to Remus holding him to his chest and reminding him where he was, he hated himself.
By the time they moved to Grimmauld Place, it was established that Remus would tell Sirius a story about their time at Hogwarts as he fell asleep. This helped Sirius to remember, but it also helped with the night terrors, which they both suspected were some kind of lingering effect of the dementors.
Remus had his own room at Grimmauld Place, and he usually retreated to it once Sirius had fallen asleep, even though they’d shared a bed for months before that. It helped him to keep things separate. Telling Sirius stories about their teenage selves was hard at times. Remembering James and Lily, remembering Peter and remembering how in love they’d been. He didn’t know how much Sirius remembered of their relationship, but as most of his positive memories were taken, he probably remembered a lot of the last few months and not much else. He mostly stuck to stories about James and Sirius, or the four of them.
“Tell me about us.” Sirius had whispered after a few weeks, as Remus got comfortable next to him. “I know you’ve been avoiding those stories.”
“I didn’t know if you’d want to hear them,” Remus said. “Or what you remember.”
“I remember shouting at you in the shack and there was blood, but I don’t remember why.” Sirius said, “That seems like an important one but I can’t get to most of it. Tell me that one?”
Remus chuckled, knowing the exact memory he meant. “Alright. So, this was about a month after Lily agreed to go out with James.”
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“Moony!” Sirius sounded frantic as Remus struggled to open his eyes. “Can you hear me?”
“Unfortunately.” Remus groaned. Sirius was shirtless, and covered in blood. He looked up at Sirius, panicked. “The fuck did I do? Are you ok?”
“I can’t stop your shoulder from bleeding. What do I do? James has gone to get Madam Pomfrey but you’re —”
“Oh, it’s mine? Just leave it.” Remus’ eyes shut again, “I’ll sleep it off. It’ll be alright.”
“You can’t sleep off blood loss you unbelievable prick. Wake up!” Sirius shook his uninjured shoulder slightly, pressing his shirt against the wound on the other.
“Sirius.” Remus growled, “Shake me again and you’ll wish you were dealing with the wolf.”
“Sit up!” Sirius ignored him. “You can’t go back to sleep.”
“It’s fine.” Remus’ eyes closed again.
Sirius snapped, “It’s not fucking fine, Remus! Sit up and open your eyes.” Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist and hauled him into a sitting position before reapplying pressure to his shoulder. He felt Remus smile against his shoulder.
“If you wanted to wrap your arms around me, all you had to do is ask, Padfoot.” He said, and Sirius swore that Remus’ teeth grazed his shoulder. “I think all you can do is apply pressure and hope for the best. I’ve got a lot of blood.”
“Moony, I love you, but when you’re not bleeding profusely in my arms, I’m going to be so fucking angry with you. ‘I’ve got a lot of blood’ is not— No, you don’t. You have the same amount of blood as anyone else, you wanker. Sometimes it’s like you don’t value your life.”
Remus, half-conscious as he was, felt very called out. “My life doesn’t have much value, to be fair.”
Sirius inhaled sharply, “No. Because you don’t have people around you that would do anything for you. You’re not a fucking wizard. Your life has no value.” He said sarcastically.
“Didn’t mean it like that, Pads.” He mumbled. “Don’t.”
“Then how did you mean it?” He shouted. He would have walked out if he didn’t know that Remus wouldn’t be able to hold the shirt on his shoulder.
“Well, I love you too, by the way.” Sirius almost dropped the shirt as Remus’ eyes closed again. “When you have no choice but to turn into a monster once a month and repeatedly take chunks out of yourself, you can judge the way I cope with it. I’m in a lot of fucking pain and I just want to sleep. Thank you for helping, as always, I appreciate it. I’m just so tired.”
“No.” Sirius poked his cheek until his eyes opened again. He looked mutinous. “You're going to stay awake. I think I can hear them in the passage. Once you’re patched up, you can sleep.”
“You’re going to make me talk about this later aren’t you?” His eyes almost closed again, but he managed to open them and blink a few times.
“Of course I am.” Sirius could feel his heart pounding in his head.
"You could just focus on the love part, and not the hyperbolically suicidal part, if you wanted.”
“We’ll see.” Sirius tried so hard not to smile. “If you tell me again when I’m not covered in your blood, I’ll think about it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Remus said as Madam Pomfrey burst through the door, followed by James, who took one look at Sirius and almost threw up.
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“So when I got out of the hospital wing, I couldn’t wait, I pulled you behind a tapestry on the way to Charms and told you I loved you again. You were still pissed off, but I convinced you that I was pretty determined to stay alive.” He looked down at Sirius who was asleep. “You don’t know how much you’ve always helped with that.”
He considered going back to his room, but eventually slipped beneath Sirius’ duvet and curled up against his back, wrapping an arm around his waist.
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Summary: Straight guy worries he's being homophobic to gay roommate, realizes he's fallen in love with him. Plot twist: it turns out I don't have any problem with Barry kissing guys if it's me he's kissing. Len decides to renounce his life of crime and start a normal life, and ends up becoming roommates with Barry Allen, forensic scientist and total nuisance. For Leonard, Barry is just a mild annoyance who pays half of the rent - until he starts bringing his boyfriends home, and that's when things get complicated. Loosely based on this article that was floating around tumblr a while back.
Author: @coldflasher
Note from submitter: the series also features a 500+k season 1 rewrite, which is a deeply impressive feat of writing 
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glazedsnail · 2 days
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EPILOGUE
I might love ShanexFern a little too much. I like broken people.
So here it is, epilogue to Misery Loved Company
It's very fluffy, which I'm not used to, I had to wait until I was 25 to write something where no one dies at the end. Oops spoiler.
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For years I've been saying I want my corpse to be thrown somewhere in the woods for the worms to feast and then this guy shows up.
We were meant to be.
The setting summer sun casts a multitude of powerful rays in Fern’s kitchen. All the windows are open, hoping to let through a thin cooling breeze amongst the uninvited bugs. Over her blasting oven, the now well established farmer of Pelican town waits for her peppers to be done. The recipe for pepper poppers she got from her boyfriend was as simple as putting on socks, however she never managed to get them to taste like his. He had teased her about a so-called secret ingredient but she knew it was a lie. His homegrown peppers were maybe of better quality. That would explain why he would refuse to give back the plant of hot pepper he had so brazenly stolen from her property. After several arguments it had been settled that a loving label with his name on it was proof enough of ownership. It would have died without him anyway.
With a content smile, she takes the peppers out of the oven. It all seems so long ago now, when it’s not even been two years. But it can easily feel like an eternity when a relationship starts like theirs.
Now ready, Fern dishes out the peppers in a box she places in her basket, along with a cool pack of sparkling water cans, a bottle of strawberry juice, and a plate of homemade muffin. She laughs, grabbing a muffin and weighing it. None of her baked goods had been eaten but they proved to be amazing projectiles.
Shane invited her for a picnic much like that questionable date. She loves him, dearly. After all their personal hardships, what they’ve been through together, being able to call Shane her partner was a wonderful treat she’d never get tired of.
Fern had given herself some much needed pamper time after her day on the farm. Her small, humble sheepfold was now housing ten healthy sheep whose wool, handspun skein, were sent straight to the city. She was grateful for Shane’s help coming shearing time, and he was always particularly helpful with the chickens, but always refused payment.
In gold that is.
She looks at herself in the mirror one last time. No mud, no holes, no stains, her lavender scented short hair drying in the sun. She’s good to go. A last look at the pressed gerbera Shane had tucked behind her ear at the Flower Dance, preserved and framed next to the door. A sentimental token often mocked by the giver for being “corny as hell”.
Beyond the other side of the farm, at the edge of the forest, the atmosphere at Marnie’s ranch is a lot less peaceful. 
‘Stop fidgeting so much or I’ll cut your ear!’
‘I didn’t need a haircut, why did I let you talk me into this.’
‘Because deep down you know you want to look your best for tonight.’
‘Aunt Fern told me she likes your hair, uncle Shane.’
Shane’s heart jumps. He always tries to look cool and untouched by Jas’ use of “Aunt Fern” but it always brings him some weird fuzzy feelings.
All grouped in the warm kitchen, Marnie over Shane’s wild locks, Shane bouncing and groaning, and Jas entertained by the scene at the other side of the table, wondering why her uncle is as nervous as she’s ever seen him. 
‘Ok I’m done.’ Marnie puts the scissors on the table with a satisfied sigh. ‘Why are you so nervous?’ she asks, removing the fallen hair from his shoulders. ‘You see Fern every day. Sometimes I wonder how she can tolerate you that much.’ She laughs.
‘I saw them kissing behind the barn once, and then they saw me, and uncle Shane was as red as a tomato, aunt Fern too, and’
‘Jas.’
‘Red just like that!’ The little girl giggles, too amused by her uncle’s nervousness. 
‘Jas, give him a break, he’s already so nervous’ Marnie winks.
‘I’m not nervous.’ he grumbles
‘You’re a wreck! Look at my kitchen, you spent the whole day cooking and making us eat. Jas and I won’t eat mushrooms for months after that.’ She pulls out the dirty pots and pans to illustrate. ‘You keep asking me about your appearance, which is a first in Yoba knows how long. You’re bouncing off the walls like nobody’s business, and I don’t know what you’ve got in your pocket but you keep ch…’ Marnie’s eyes widen in surprise and delight, quickly squinted by the giant smile drawing on her face. She squeals, bringing her hands to her lips, her eyes slowly watering. ‘Shane! Oh dear Yoba, this is fantastic!’
Shane groans, looking away.
‘Marnie…’
‘’What’s fantastic?’ Asks Jas who tries to connect the dots clearly spelling something for her very excited aunt.
‘I’ll stop talking, I don’t want to jinx it. Not that there are any risks of that mind you. Oh, Shane!’ She lunges herself onto her blushing nephew.
‘Fuck’s sake…’ He grumbles under his breath.
‘Language! She’ll never say yes if you keep talking like that.’
‘Say yes to what?’ Plead Jas, painfully ignored.
A knock on the door forces them to fall silent. Fern’s here.
‘Jas, shush, let’s go.’ Marnie grabs the child and swiftly scutters away to her bedroom, leaving Shane alone in the now surprisingly vast kitchen. He inhales deeply and stands up to open the door.
The sun is exploding behind Fern as a smile appears on her face the second she sees him at the door.
‘You’re ready to go?’ She asks.
Shane swallows painfully. The smile Fern gives him warms his heart with so much strength he can barely understand what he did to deserve it, or if he deserves it at all.
He nods, smiling back, and gets himself ready to cross the doorway.
‘Ahem.’
‘Hi Marnie, Hi Jas!’ shouts Fern from the door to the barely hidden family.
Marnie has an impossibly wide grin on her face, Jas is still unsure of what is happening but she enjoys the spy game.
‘Are you sure you’ve got everything?’ The mother hen asks from her hiding spot.
‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure?’
Shane signs to her to leave him alone, and gently pushes Fern out to close the door.
‘Are they ok?’ Fern asks in a laugh. ‘Do they want to come with us?’
‘No! Hum, no, I mean, yes they’re fine.’
She laughs again, tucking a strand of his wild hair back.
‘You look great.’ she says, softly caressing his cheek. ‘Are you ok?’
His nervousness will give him away, but he can hardly control what he feels when she touches him, reminding him that for some crazy unexplained reasons she chose to be with him, that they are together.
‘Yeah… It’s nice to see you.’
She smiles, and starts walking in the direction of the forest. In one breath Shane quickly checks his pocket. It’s there. Everything’s fine. Everything will be fine.
‘Did you do all that?’
Between the parting trees giving to the cliff a blanket laid out on the ground welcomes them, scattered with well covered dishes and glasses, softly illuminated by well placed candles and tea lights against the darkening summer’s sky.
Shane blushes, visibly wanting to disappear in his collar. He grabs Fern’s hand and helps her down before sitting next to her.
‘I thought you’d like that.’ he says, slightly embarrassed.
‘This is lovely, Shane.’ She nuzzles into him, truly grateful. ‘I don’t know what I did to deserve you.’ She adds, planting a kiss on his red cheek, forbidding him to say or think anything deprecative about himself. ‘I love you, Shane.’ She whispers, all giddy after all this time to finally be able to say those words.
‘I love you.’ He replies, looking down. ‘So much.’ His hand slowly fingering the mermaid pendant in his pocket. Is now the right time?  When would it be? Should they eat first? And more importantly, what if she says no?
‘Hey’ Fern softly grabs his hand ‘Where are you, miles away from here?’
Shane shakes his head off of all the infuriating scenarios that popped in his mind.
‘I’m a bit nervous.’ He laughs.
‘Tell me about it!’ She joins him in a laugh. ‘Why?’ Her smiling eyes now shadowed by concern.
‘I made your favourite and I’m scared it didn’t turn out well.’
‘I’m certain it’ll be perfect. It already smells amazing!’ She brings the plate of fried mushrooms to her and grabs a fork to have a taste, before bringing the fork to Shane’s mouth. He would rather drop dead than admit it, but he loves when she shares food like this.
Who’s the corny one now.
He shakes his head, actually surprised by the taste.
‘It’s delicious Shane, thank you.’
The sun is but orange light under the valley, and the crickets have started singing. Fern sighs, happy, nestled in her partner’s arms, watching the sun set over the cliff.
‘Do you remember the last time we were here?’ She asks in a grin. To her delight, Shane starts blushing. He does remember. ‘After the Flower Dance, you took my hand and we walked from the clearing to here without realising. She looks in the distance. ‘We talked for hours.’
‘I mainly remember your white dress.’ Shane says, clearing his throat.
‘I did try to clear the sap off it’ She giggles ‘and repair the tears. Kinda wanted to wear it tonight.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be, my love’ she whispers in his ear. ‘I remember that dress fondly, but the memory of how you treated it is far more precious.’
Shane shivers. It’s not her first time calling him “my love” but it always sounds so sweet.
‘You know’ Fern continues after a while. ‘I can’t remember if it was against that tree, or that one.’ She turns to Shane with a malicious smile, thoroughly enjoying her ability to make her rough looking man blush like a high school girl. She slowly nuzzles against his warm, now almost burgundy, neck. Despite all, she feels him tense up.
‘Shane?’
‘Do you remember the…other time we were at the cliff?’
Fern quickly grabs his hand.
‘Yes?’
‘Do you, hem, do you think you deserve this? That I’m worthy of you?’
Her eyebrows furrow on her hazel eyes. She sits down in front of him, on her knees.
‘I love all of you, Shane.’ she starts. ‘I always have. You’re not that one incident. You are much, much, more than what happened to you. Sure it shapes us but, in the end, despite all, you’re you. And I fell in love with you.’
‘Terrible decision making as always.’
‘Shane!’ She pushes him down, pinning him on the blanket. ‘I’m gonna stay there until you love yourself.’
‘We’ll be here a while!’ he laughs, wrapping his arms around her.
‘I have all the time, my whole life even, for you.’
Her soft but certain tone falls on Shane like an anvil. Her whole life for him. He tries to keep a steady breathing while she covers his neck in small kisses, astride his warming body. He tightens his embrace, burying his face in her neck and takes a deep breath. With a kiss on her cheek, he rolls her over, now on top of her.
‘Do you love yourself yet?’ Fern asks in a laugh, trying to sit up. She lets him get on his knees, while he reaches into his pocket.
‘I guess, enough to ask you this.’
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mooseonahunt · 1 year
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When I was 8 years old, there was this kid I knew who loved Resident Evil. He was obsessed with it, but he especially loved Leon. It was like this kid couldn’t get enough of him. I’ll never forget the way he would praise him without pausing for air or the way he let his hair grow out so he could style it like Leon. Now, I hated this kid with all my heart for reasons completely unrelated to his obsession, but even so, I began to hate Leon with all the passion I could muster at 8 years old.
I’m not proud of who I used to be, but I have grown enough as a person to realise I was wrong to hate on a character that brought a fellow child so much joy. Getting into Resident Evil years later and actually getting to form a proper opinion about the franchise and its characters has been quite fun, and my feelings regarding certain characters have changed from what they once were.
Having said that—Angel, if you’re reading this, I just wanted to say that I still hate Leon.
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eel-slime-supremacy · 2 years
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my boissss
i may fully render this in the future but for now imma post the sketch
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lightningwaters · 2 years
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lovegasmic · 4 months
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⋆ AGE GAP ft. Satoru, modern Sukuna, Toji, Suguru
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, older boyfriends ‹3 x adult reader, pet names such as ( my girl, baby, doll, princess ) dilf toji with a breeding kink like he should, oral make receiving ( s.r ) overstimulation ( s.geto )
NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST
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ִֶָ SATORU
your older boyfriend that spoils you rotten. waiting for you after class with a smile on his face, sunglasses covering his eyes and lazily leaning against his car, scanning the surroundings until his eyes land on your pretty self, looking so fuckin’ gorgeous in that skirt he bought you, and the one that makes his pants tighten with how hard his cock turns, begging and drooling in need to sink into your tight cunt.
your boyfriend spoils you rotten, getting you clothes and lingerie for his eyes only in the privacy of his luxury apartment; Satoru really can’t resist how beautiful you are, how much smaller than him you look bent, skirt flipped up and two knuckles deep in your pussy, “did you miss me this bad, princess?” is what he murmurs, a hint of teasing in his words while his fingers slide inside your cunt, two long digits curling and hitting against the spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and cling to the blue sky button up your boyfriend wore.
adorable, and absolutely ravishing is what you are, unable to stop your tiny whimpers from escaping at each rub on your walls or clit, your warm and translucent liquids dripping down his uncovered wrist, splattering against the kitchen floor right where Satoru presses you against the counter.
it’s not your fault you’re gushing so much, your boyfriend is so sexy with his arms muscles and veins popping when he holds your waist tightly, making out with an expertise that makes your knees buck and tummy do flips with how desperately you needed him, “i bet you were so wet when I picked you up, hm? soaked through the pretty panties I bought you” his breathing goes directly against your ear, licking a fat strip down the column of your neck and nibbling on your shoulder, “so wet and ready like my good girl” his fingers only speeding up, a signal that he’s not stopping anytime soon.
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ִֶָ SUKUNA
your older boyfriend who has taught you everything you know. truly before Sukuna, you couldn’t handle having your mouth fucked without gagging, not as if it was easier now, but the stretch is less uncomfortable thanks to your handsome, big and rich businessman of a lover.
“you’re doing good angel, keep going” Sukuna murmurs, humming in appreciation to the way your puffy and swollen lips part to greet his sticky cockhead, not wasting any time in sucking him in like your perfect cunt would.
it’s almost conditioned how your body reacts to him, unable to stop your pussy from slicking and insides aching in search of the relief your boyfriend’s fat cock can provide, unconsciously bucking against the cold air hitting your bare core from where you kneel in his office, with your uniform pencil skirt around your waist, preventing it from catching a large slick stain.
“oh, fuck...” a groan that only makes you slick further, “that’s my good girl, mmm... fucking perfect” a gentle roll of his hips is what’s next, at the same time his fingertips slide through your hair, tugging gently to easily slip the rest of his fat cock down your throat, and your tongue is quick to wrap around him, suckling and slurping disgustingly loud that it resonates through the room, barely choking but managing to keep your eyes locked on his, the picture of your messed up face and chin glistening with saliva and precum almost sending him over the edge, of course, Sukuna would not admit how quick you make him want to cum, to shoot his load down your throat or perhaps, paint your pretty face and gorgeous tits white.
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ִֶָ TOJI
your older boyfriend with whom you shouldn’t have fallen in love with.
being friends with Megumi was nice, you being a couple years older than him was not an impediment to make a friendship bloom, although lusting over his dad was not in your plans.
it was a simple crush, you told yourself, nothing to worry about, you reassured yourself, that until you found yourself naked under Toji, knees almost touching your ears and puffy slit glistening with slick, all while the dark haired loomed over you, messily tapping the tip of his cock against your cunt, “beg, doll, beg me to put it in” he smirks, not bothering to look into your pleading expression, a bit too hypnotized with how his precum connected to your folds with translucent webs.
“please... i— uh, need you to... need you inside”
“tsk, that’s the best you can do?” he teases, grabbing the fat base of his cock and pushing his cock against your slit, watching your lips spread to greet the swollen tip, knocking against your sobbing hole but not pushing in.
“Toji please... can’t— just put it in, please, I need you so bad” a few tears escape your eyes, adding to the fucked out expression you already had, and how could Toji refuse you when you look like that, like an utter mess, needy and craving to be filled, to be fucked and creampied like he’ve done multiple times.
“not good enough but i’ll let it pass this time...” grunted words at the same time his tip pushed past the tightness of your cunt, selfishly impaling you on his cock that’s desperate to cum in your young and fertile hole.
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ִֶָ SUGURU
your older boyfriend who completely ruined you for any other man.
whether it’s with his fingers, tongue or cock, Suguru always leaves you the same, utterly ruined. there’s streaks of tears rolling down your eyes with each sharp twist of his fingers and tongue continuously abusing your slick and warm pussy, lapping and sucking on the puffy folds while his thumb rubbed on your clit, coaxing more and more delicious sounds of your lips, “Sugu.... it’s too much” you squeak with your thighs almost crushing his head, but your boyfriend wouldn’t have it any other way, staring up at you with hooded eyes and messy hair from where your fingers slide and tug.
he doesn’t respond, not yet at least, almost drunk in your scent, in your delicious taste, encouraged to rub his nose on your clit and shove his tongue into your hole, slurping more of your sweet juices until you’re cumming again, on the edge of screaming your heart out at the intensity.
“you can give me one more, right?” he lies, you and him know it’s not the last orgasm of the night, but your fucked out brain tells you otherwise, allowing your muscular and large boyfriend to hover your trembling body, and giving him enough room to slam his cock into your trembling cunt, fucking so rough and merciless your eyes roll beautifully, and the sounds you make are the prettiest he has ever heard, of course, driving you over and over the edge, your brain is almost fried, unable to speak or mumble a coherent sentence through the haze as you squirt all over his lap, the mess you already created with his saliva and your cum now turning into a puddle of mixed juices that drip down your thighs.
and of course, it’s definitely not the last, Suguru keeping you squirting until your vision goes black.
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cats-in-the-clouds · 4 months
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my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do
#if my dad had any brain cells or observational skills whatsoever#he’d realize that in terms of our faith the problem is not the boyfriend. that guy is brilliant and open minded and would probably ace RCIA#the problem is my sister. who is catholic in name but it’s clear to me how hard she’s fallen away from the faith#but like my dad has created such a bitter home environment we never have meaningful conversations with him#so like he doesn’t know *anything* about our inner lives#all he sees is labels. all he judges people by is labels#literally you can still get married in the church to a non catholic it’s just a matter of expecting them to convert eventually#and promising to still live according to the principles of the church and raising your children as such#but my parents are absolute fools if they think that’s the issue. if my sister was true in her faith her bf would have converted already#i am sure of it. the guy is smart he just needs to be guided the right way#evidently my parents don’t realize that about him either#if my dad could become a decent parent for once and stop trying to drive his kids away from the faith by only cherrypicking the parts of it#that intersected with republican/conservative boomerisms#ugh. if he was a virtuous father she’d be a virtuous daughter and therefore all her friends and loved ones would be virtuous as well#should i blame my dad for all our family problems? no.. not rightfully……#but like. the impact a father has on one’s life cannot be understated#ugh i’ve had the sense for a while that God wants me to be the one to fix this family#because looking around it doesn’t look like anyone else is gonna do it#but that’s such a daunting task… especially alone… i don’t have any true friends (ie who share both my faith and life experiences)#and like. it’s really hard to try to assume the role of a teacher or counselor when someone is older than you#or uh. in a position of direct power over you for that matter. esp when clearly deeply mentally ill#the concept of trying to essentially parent my own parent while i myself am miserable and unstable#esp when he is the primary cause of that#just. ughhhhh it’s such a vicious circle#like i’ll do this if i have to i’ll undertake that daunting mission but i have to be so careful and really sort myself out first#or for that matter if i were to volunteer to like. catechize my sister’s boyfriend (heaven knows she couldn’t do it)#i’d have to really study my stuff bc i think the intellect is the only real appeal here#like i said tho his conversion can probably never really happen as long as my sister remains the way she is#what i know is that the first step is fixing myself. i have to be a pillar of virtue if i wanna stand as any sort of authority on the faith#problem is i suck and shouldn’t be regarded as a role model for anything. i have the knowledge down but that alone won’t fix me
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fushitoru · 13 days
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rainy days and brownies
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pairing ⸺ college/modern!au: bf!gojo x reader
summary ⸺ you wake up for some soft moments with your boyfriend that involves brownies (turned freaky)
warnings ⸺ smut, tooth rotting fluff, some mild angst?, gojo unfortunately mentions skibidi toilet, I think I made gojo gen z here, boob worship, brownies and baking, established relationship, oral (f!receiving), gojo eats pussy like a champ, NOT EDITED, might be incoherent to everyone except me, product of a forceful effort to escape writer’s block, rainy mornings <3, lots of intimacy, art by 3-aem, probably in the same universe as this
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Rainy nights with Satoru means baking.
It’s a ritual the both of you have fallen into. On a day like this, where the air smells like rain, you blearily wake up from your nap to smell the warm distinct aroma of overly sweet brownies.
The slutty brownies were Satoru’s masterpiece. Even if he did overdo the sugar, you can’t admit that your stomach was growling as you rubbed your bleary eyes and frowned while raking a hand through your head. This bed head was going to be a bitch to untangle with the hairbrush.
“AND IIIIIIIIIIIII, WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUU—“
You jumped, caught off guard by Satoru randomly deciding to pay homage to Whitney Houston. Standing up, you headed towards the living room of you and Satoru’s apartment—-not before you adjusted your tank top so your tits weren’t out and the boy shorts you chose to sleep in properly covered your ass.
“WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUU—-“ You cringed at Satoru’s attempt of a high note, grumpily looking at him use his chocolate covered spatula as a makeshift mic. He was in the kitchen—-shirtless, of course—-now bending over to peek at the state of his brownies in the oven. Deciding the brownies weren’t done yet, he closed the oven door and stood up once more, reaching for his phone to undoubtedly scroll through TikTok. Continuing to hum different variations of the chorus, he swiped at his phone, ignorant to your presence behind him.
You think he’s kind of sweet like this. If it weren’t for him, the both of you would never be in this position. You would always be the cold frigid bitch he saw in freshman orientation and occasionally at parties across campus, and he would be the sweet, friendly guy that all the girls would continue to fall head over heels for.
To be honest, you don’t really see what he sees in you. You’re like a Disney villain, the witch that entraps him in her webs of insecurity and jealousy, but he remains the valiant prince, fighting to get to you. When he finally has you in his arms, he kisses you into believing that you are his princess instead.
It’s obvious in the way he fought for you—memorizing your schedule, rushing across campus just to walk you to class, pleading with you to grab dinner. And each time, you’d brush him off with sharp rejections, finding excuses to keep him at arm’s length.
But when he finally had you, finally cracked all your defenses—he was never going to let you go. You could see as much; the way he proudly walked on campus with you at his side, across the main quad so he could boast that he got you. You were his, and he was fully, undoubtedly yours. At parties, his eyes would always be on you, raking his eyes up and down your figure in your nurse outfit, conjuring up the hundred and thirty four positions he would fuck you so good in, even if there were prettier girls clinging onto his arms asking for a morsel of his attention. Pettily enough, you would just need to sigh and mumble “This party isn’t fun,” to have Satoru whipped, ushering you out of the frat house while those girls glared at the back of your Halloween costume, angry beyond measure that a nobody like you has the campus sweetheart wrapped around your finger.
Loud booms of the Vine gunshot sound effect snaps you back into the present, where Satoru is snickering at some god awful brain rot. You choose to approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist and smothering your face into his muscular back.
“Hi baby,” you mumble.
“Guess which sleepyhead is awake!” He announces to the world and turns around, and your traitorous heart jumps in its chest while looking into his eyes. It’s stupid. You’re both in your PJs on a morning where the rain thuds against the window pane, blurring both the window and all outside life, suspending you both in this moment. His eyes look affectionately down to you, and he plants a wet kiss on your forehead. “How was your nap, baby?”
“It was good.” You watch him turn around again to peek at the oven, and he hums, upper arm flexing as he grabs the heavy bag of flour, dragging it closer to him. “When’d you get up?”
“Around 7.”
You shoot him a bewildered look as you hop onto the counter, a better space to observe your boyfriend. When he realized that you had woken up, he had left his phone open to give you a kiss, reel playing noises. You peek over and almost snort at what is playing.
“Satoru, why are you watching alligators get chased away by a shovel?”
He looks up from the bowl of brownie batter he was now cleaning—-with his tongue, mind you—-and grins boyishly. “Isn't it crazy how hundreds of years of evolution get destroyed by a shovel?”
”Your feed is not normal,” you shake your head, keeping a stony face as you continue to scroll through his TikTok. In fact, it’s hilarious—-the things he got were weirder than one could dream, with toilets producing heads of men taking over whole cities. You’re not sure what that means about your boyfriend, but you accept it as you watch the nonsensical video.
“Wait,” he makes his way over to you, standing in between your legs. “Is that skibidi toilet?”
“What the hell is that.”
“Baby,” he whines. “You don’t know the lore? I don’t know if I can be with you for any longer.”
Your bite back a grin. “And subjecting me to hours of FNAF backstory wasn’t testament to how much I love you?”
Before he could whine back, you noticed he had some leftover chocolate on the side of his mouth and leaned over to lick it. Humming at the taste, you grabbed his hands and took in his brownie coated index and middle finger into your mouth.
He frowns. “Are you trying to seduce me into forgiving you and giving you more brownies?”
You laugh softly and give him a soft smooch on his shoulder. “No, silly. If I ate any more than half, I would have diabetes.”
He grabs the back of your hips and pulls you closer into him, nuzzling his nose against yours. The physical contact rubs at your nerves the right way, firing off that emotional part of you that makes you think loving him is so easy. How lucky you are that he’s chosen to give you his love.
His god-awful alarm blares—same annoying sound he keeps hitting snooze on for his 7ams—and the moment breaks as he reaches for the oven mitts to pull out the brownies. The aroma hits you instantly, making your mouth water. Satoru blows dramatically on the brownies, pouting and mock-yelling, “Hurry up and cool down! My girlfriend wants to eat you.” You can’t help but giggle. Once Satoru finally decides they’re cool enough, he grabs one and offers it to you. “Make way for the choo-choo train!” he snickers, guiding the brownie through imaginary tracks, a shit-eating grin on his face, before plopping it into your mouth.
You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the brownie melts on your tongue, its warmth enveloping your senses. Rich, velvety tones of chocolate overwhelm your mouth, with each bite releasing a symphony of deep, indulgent flavors that linger long after the brownie is fully swallowed. “Wow, this is actually good.”
He pauses, brownie and hand held in mid air. “Why do you sound surprised?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug innocently but stick your tongue out to him regardless.
Popping the brownie in his mouth--but not before sending you a pout---he brushes his hands together to remove the brownie crumbs as he makes his way back in between your legs. The way he settles between them makes you all too aware of the heat of his groin encompassing you. He lazily drags his eyes up your figure, but not before settling on your outfit. His eyes then flick down to watch his hands trace the hem of your tank top, and your eyes follow his hands, a little dizzy by the action.
You’re always a bit sensitive in the mornings, and before this day, you and Satoru’s interactions have been limited to a kiss before he runs for his 7am and then doing college work until 3am, where you’re both too tired for anything particularly frisky. So, yea, you are kind of pent up---and judging by the bulge that’s starting to form in Satoru’s sweats, you assume he is too.
You put your elbows on his shoulder blades to give him head scratches from behind and lean towards his jawlines giving small kisses. You can feel him close his eyes, purring silently like a cat, and underneath your hands, his back and shoulder blades tense and relax as you rake your hands over his scalp.
“This new?” He uses his index finger to snap the strap of your tank top against your shoulder, using his mouth to given open mouthed kisses to your collarbone.
“Mhm,” you hum, a little deliriously at that---he’s begun to trail down, mouth working at the swell of your breasts.
He slowly pulls the collar of your tank down, down down down until your breast pops out. His eyes trace the swing urgently and groans. “I missed these, sweet girl.”
You gasp sharply when he puts it in his mouth, tongue swirling around the nipple. Satoru’s always been a boob guy, joking about his hands being your bra to support “those mommy milkers.” Right now, he’s doing just that; groping the hell out of them and giving them kisses, as if they were God’s greatest creation.
As much as you were enjoying your boyfriend’s boob worshipping, you need more. You were throbbing in want of contact on your pussy, and you made sure to relay just that. “Toru, I need more,” you whined.
“God forbid a man appreciate nice boobs.” He rolls his like the sassy man he is and parts with your nipple like lips after a messy and wet make out session. Your breasts are gleaming with his spit, a string connecting your nipple to his lips. He trails his face down your torso, making his way down to his knees until he was facing your crotch.
You whine and clench your thighs together to draw his face closer to the space between your thighs. He looks up at you and coos, giving your inner thigh a kiss. “I can smell you from here, cutie.”
His statement reminds you that you’re not too wet in the mornings. As soon as you wake up, some of your morning sessions with Satoru require the aid of lube to ensure no pain. Irritation flares at you at the thought that you might need to leave your position to grab some l—-
Oh.
“What the hell. I thought you wet your pants,” Satoru giggles. The finger running through your folds glides messily, as you both marvel to how wet you are. You’re also on another plane; you haven’t felt his touch for weeks, and the feeling overwhelms you as the squelches your pussy makes echo throughout the kitchen.
Satoru gives you a kiss on your neck. “Baby, can I?” You deliriously remember that he’s lightly circling his finger around your entrance and when you finally give him the okay, he pushes in.
Both of you groan at how tight you are. “Satoru,” you moan and proceed to bring him in for a kiss as he pistons in and out of your pussy, curling them just the way you like and making you see colors.
“Pretty, pretty girl,” he groans. “Left my baby so pent up.”
At that, all you can do is nod and whimper in agreement. All that leaves your mouth are gasps of his names and oh my god’s because he’s making you feel so good.
And then, you almost scream as you feel him blowing hot air onto your folds, leaning down to give teasing kitten licks around your clit, but not directly on it. His tongue drags up and down until he finally stops it right next to your clit as if feeling the sensation of your pussy throbbing, echoing your fastened heartbeat skin-to-skin while drooling.
Frustrated, you try to move your hips, but Satoru grabs them to stay in place. He’s so close to the place you want him, but he’s stationed in one place, spit flowing down as his tongue is still and his dark eyes are staring at you as if enraptured by your struggling.
“Satoru, please lick my clit,” you moan wantonly, begging for him to change his position.
But Satoru Gojo wouldn’t be Satoru Gojo without some teasing. “What was that, baby? Avoid your clit? You got it.”
“No,” you sobbed, grabbing onto his hair and directing his tongue to your clit. This time, he relents, sucking the bud into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, making you see stars.
But soon, his quick and fast lapping turn into lazy licks, and you get frustrated, grinding against air and pussy oozing out wetness as Satoru keeps his tongue outstretched in front of you but not close enough to make contact with your skin, teasing. You hate the feeling of your pussy throbbing and the inner thighs and pussy wet with your slick, lacking the sensation you needed to finally climax. “Oh my god, Satoru, please make me cum.”
“I don’t know baby, you sound pretty commanding to me.” The motherfucker shrugs as if he has nothing to do with your dilemma and starts trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His touches were close to where you needed him most, making you ache for the sensation of his wet laps against you.
“Please, baby,” you beg. “You feel so good, you’re making me feel soo good. I love you so much. Please let me cum.” You’re full on sobbing, hips writhing to get any sensation in.
Satoru, at your display, seems to give in, because he’s coming in once more, giving you a sweet little kiss on your clit. You nearly ascend.
He’s diving in, making a rhythm of dipping his tongue into your entrance and coming back to give sloppily wet laps on your clit. It’s when he groans while his tongue is inside, hot air and vibrations needily simulating your clit, that you come up with a gasp. You roll your hips, Satoru giving you little licks to help you ride out your orgasm.
For how hard you came, you’re bucking your hips frantically, body on a mind of its own as you almost fall off the counter. Satoru has to grip your thighs to prevent that potential injury and rubs soothing circles on the outside of your thigh as you pant, wetness and sweat likely painting the counter beneath you. It’s not until your breath returns back to it’s normal pace that you notice Satoru’s head against your thighs, looking up at you with lovesick eyes.
You’re probably giving him the same look back, you realize, given he made you ascend to heaven and back. He gives an affectionate kiss to your mound, moaning corny shit like “Your pussy tastes sweeter than the brownie.”
And then he stands up, knees popping on the way back up, and despite your fucked out state, you can’t help but giggle. “You old man with the popping knee caps.”
He glares at you playfully, but you know his expression too well to know there’s no real offense in it. “Hey. Rude to say that after I just made you cum your brains out.”
”And you’re about to get the same thing,” you purr, putting a hand on his hard-on. He hisses but looks at you with lust blown eyes as he grabs the back of your thighs to carry you to your shared bedroom.
Yes, rainy days do mean baking with Satoru, but not without intimacy with your even sweeter boyfriend in bed.
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general masterlist
comment or reblog to let me know your thoughts! I appreciate all of them <3
a/n lol this was a bitch to write. this might be a word soup or salad or whatever for all readers and that’s ok! I’ve written this primarily at 1am so…
eugh ok im going back to writing ch5 of bridgerton!gojo and fixing the em dashes in this post when i wake up LOL
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blkkizzat · 3 months
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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜
PART 3
part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series
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⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (IN STOCK!!!)
⋙ product description (summary): choso's finally had enough and if you won't listen to reason he will fuck it into you. but will you still choose him in the end or will he make that choice for you? ⋙ side effects (tw): THE LONG AWAITED BRAT TAMING! rough sex. throat goat!reader. more angst. spanking ass/puss. teasing. edging. lots of delayed pleasure. jealousy. cunnalingus. mirror sex. dom!choso. breeding kink. dirty talk. backshots. fingering. squirting. daddy kink. thigh riding. nuru/thigh fucking. intoxicated reader. drug use (weed). slight voyeurism. yandere choso. baby trapping. mentions of violence (not towards reader). mentions of somnophilia and a lil bit of fluff. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 9.6k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. the long awaited end! i hope you guys like it. i really worked hard on this to make it good <3 special shout outs to my betas @littlemochabunni for literally always talking me off the ledge when i want to ctrl + a+ del everything and @buttercupblu for all the grammar edits my adhd brain struggles with and inspiring me to write the last scene.
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Plug!Choso who ultimately will forgive you but it will be on his terms. He just needed to show you first why the only person you should worry about pleasing was him.
Menacing chuckles rumble deep from Choso’s chest, bewildering you in your crossfaded state. Seizing you with a firm hold, he forces you to meet his gaze. Choso holds you so tightly against him that your feet barely touch the ground.
Any attempts of wriggling out of his hold are in vain.
“You’re such a fucking slut.”
His matter-of-fact statement makes you frown. You’re taken aback by the twisted amusement on his face.
“You don’t love me… You love my cock.”
“N-No I—”
Your already short skirt now bunches above your hips and Choso brings a heavy hand down onto your exposed bottom. The sting brings fresh tears to your eyes as the gems on your fishnets leave distinct impressions on your soft, malleable skin.
“You’ll have to learn to be quiet while daddy’s talking, princess.”
If you were going to act like a childish brat, Choso would treat you like one.
Another harsh spank startles you into hiccups as you sniff away fallen tears. 
You’d never been spanked before—not by previous lovers or boyfriends—hell not even your parents growing up. 
The last person you’d expect it from was Choso.
And yet each swift lick Choso deals you is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. 
Who knew you would be such a glutton for punishment? 
You fidget, biting your lip in anticipation of another. 
“Been thinkin’ princess—I’ve been too good to you. But you don’t want that, eh?”
A third smack has you whimpering. Your pelvic muscles clench hard, releasing more of the desperation that had already saturated your thighs.
“You want one of those assholes outside, is that right? They’re good enough for you, huh princess?”
You can only mewl in response from the delightful pain that pierces your senses as he delivers another and another.
“S’why every time I fuckin’ come round y’er being a lil’cocktease for some preppy ass frat fuck.”
Choso wasn’t wrong. 
You knew what those boys wanted from you.
Even though you had never really entertained any of them. That was the allure in itself—to be something unattainable. 
Yet more selfishly, you liked the attention. Not like you’d even got the same thrill from it anymore since you were with Choso—but old habits die hard.
Choso was making damn sure of that now.
“Tryna get one of them to fuck you tonight—”
Choso’s cock twitches in sync with your trembles from every spank.
“—or were you hoping I was finally gonna put that pretty princess pussy of yours in her place?” 
You’re smart enough to know Choso’s question is rhetorical and how could it not be given all your actions tonight? 
It was clear you wanted him and his deliciously fat cock back—badly. 
Your tongue cautiously peeks out as you try to quiet your shuddering breaths, afraid that any small movement might provoke his anger. At this point you know better than to beg too, almost certain that any attempts would only fuel the unexpected mean streak Choso had developed.
Yet despite any initial apprehension you were quickly becoming puddy in his hands.
“Poor baby, working so hard having to appease everyone—” 
SMACK!
“—well you ain’t gotta worry that bratty head of yours no more—seeing as you won’t be doing none of that shit from now on.” 
His threats which should have you cussing him out only make you wetter as your heart pounds in your ears from the thrill of being dominated. You’d do anything right now to get a little relief for your aching cunt that had gone a whole goddamn month without Choso’s thick cock plugging her up. 
Restless in arousal, your entire being just begs to be fucked. 
Releasing your hair Choso parts your legs with his knee and you collapse onto him, your plump pussy colliding with his thigh. You whimper, tightly gripping his broad shoulders for leverage to rock yourself against his thigh. 
Choso could feel the intensity of the moist heat radiating from your core dampening his jeans.
“Shit, I can feel you dripping… pussy drooling just from getting that ass spanked a lil’—are you a masochist, princess?”
Choso breathes the question into your ear, his words bringing a chill over your skin fanning goosebumps all the way down to the nape of your neck.
You’re losing yourself all the more in the hypnotic state of lust swirling from alcohol, weed, pain and arousal clashing within you. 
You nearly choke on the deep guttural moans that had been held in by his hand still around your throat when he grabs your hips forcibly rocking you harder against him. Your paper-thin thong does nothing to protect you  from the rough threadbare material of his jeans grinding against your sensitive lil nub. 
“Wearing these slutty tights with an ass like yours…” 
You almost forget to breathe, the sting this time accompanied by him sliding his fingers between the gaps in the material and grabbing the fat of your ass for emphasis.
“...coulda got me in so much shit tonight if I made ol’boy who was touchin’ up on you swallow teeth.”
The baritone in his voice lowers to a deadly note, tuning every nerve in your body to the exact pitch of his voice.
“P-Please C-Cho I—”
—in an instant the hand on your hip coils around your neck. 
Thumbing your collarbone, Choso slowly applies just enough pressure to activate the euphoric sensation of suffocation, sending tingles down your spine.
“Look at me princess, you better stay quiet—m’not gonna say it again.”
You choke back a cry as the elastic on your fishnets snaps against your tender skin when Choso removes his hand from them.
“But then your lil’card got pulled when you saw me with that whore, hmm?”
You wince preemptively expecting another hard spanking but Choso loosens his grip around your throat. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.
A sniffly frown complements the pitifulness of your runny makeup as you cling to him possessively. 
“Y-Yeah… I-I hated seeing that d-dumb bitch all over you. Wanted to fuck her up.”
Choso is satisfied with your answer but the warmth behind his smile didn’t match the heated glint in his eyes.
“There it is. See? Bratty princesses who are honest get rewarded—”
Any relief you feel is short lived as your despair returns with the words that follow.
“—eventually.”
Plug!Choso who has you so close to release just from rutting against his brawny thigh. Yet just as you feel the hot coil about to snap in your stomach he pulls away from you. 
Wobbling for stability, your panic that he would leave again subsides when he returns to sit on your bed.
Choso leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees to pack another bowl. The process is second nature to him and his hands move with an instinctual precision, allowing his oppressively dark gaze to remain fixed to you.
“Strip.”
It’s a rather simple command but it causes a small malfunction in your brain nonetheless. 
Your intuition is simultaneously screaming at you to be a ‘good girl’ and listen to Choso so he’d finally fuck you—but also to get the hell away from the menacing man before you were actually fucked.
Choso’s shift in his nature was setting off every internal alarm—although at the same time, you couldn’t say this still didn’t feel like Choso.
Was it really new? 
Or was this side just new to you? 
You’d only ever really known the gentle boyish side of Choso. The side who would blush easily and that was so willing to do anything to please you—the side that was a dutiful and loving brother.
But this other side? 
Well, he was a dealer.
You’d never heard of Choso getting caught out or punked in the streets—not even once. 
You also never knew how he conducted his business, as he always stepped out of the car or left the room. When he took a call while you were with him, all you could hear were faint murmurs of conversation over the rumbling bass of music or through a well-insulated door.
You knew he did his best to keep that side away from you and Yuji, as it wasn’t always pretty. 
Instantly you recalled how once when you had slept over he reluctantly left in the middle of the night late saying he had ‘business’ to take care of. When he came home hours later he looked worn down and even more tired than usual. His knuckles were swollen and there was a rip with small dots of blood on his collar which you would have thought was his own if not for there not being a single scratch on him.
He didn’t speak of what happened and you couldn’t fuss over his appearance for too long—your mind being far from inquisitive while blubbering from his cock drilling your body deep into the mattress. You blissfully became a fleshlight of relief for all his frustrations that night until long after sunrise. 
In fact, Choso had dicked you down so thoroughly when you finally made it out of bed that day it was mid-afternoon. You didn’t even question him about the bruises lingering on his knuckles or whose blood he had on him—still in a daze off his cock.
So this must be how he is in the streets. 
“Go on now, princess.”
The deep silky dominance in his tone commanded your attention, jarring you from your thoughts. You’re pouting, but your body, in spite of your more rational mind, wins as it compels you to obey him, convincing you that anything he has planned for you would be well worth the pleasure that follows. 
Slowly, you begin to lift up your tiny pink top when Choso’s eyes narrow in disapproval, stopping you.
“Nuh-uh see—that shit right there won't cut it.”
You’re puzzled. You did exactly as he asked.
“You didn’t think I saw my lil’ slut playing beer pong and teasing those shitheads with my tiddies? Now do it for me—the same fuckin’ way.”
You’re nodding but your delicate hands are nevertheless shaking under his intense smolder.
Swallowing your anxiety and mimicking your earlier actions, you bent towards him. Your chest is lightly heaving by the time your nails begin to slowly drag the hem of the sparkly top down over your breasts. Choso is blatantly palming his cock when you give the final tug that has your tits bouncing forth from their confines, fully exposed to him.
Choso hums in approval, satisfied with your performance. He motions with a finger for you to come to him and you can’t close the distance fast enough to stand between his legs. 
Molding your hips in his large hands, Choso brings you even closer. Parting his lips the smoke tendrils fan over your stomach while his mouth hovers over your skin. 
Choso looks back up at you and your belly dips, quivering at his dangerously seductive eyes and mischievous grin. 
You were nervous—good.
“Knees.”
Plug!Choso who has you shamelessly panting on your knees before him. Not caring for any decorum at this point you’re openly salivating as hearts practically dance in your eyes over his engorged cock throbbing inside his jeans.
Choso releases a whiny hiss when the air hits his swollen glands. His length sways weighted down as an embarrassing amount of pre drips off his reddened shaft, his boxers already soiled. 
In your right state of mind you might have used this to shift back the power dynamics—yet alas, you are far too gone now. The need for him to give you his praise and approval winning out over any inklings of sass or disobedience. 
Your attention is all but zeroed in on how those milky pearls dribbled over his albert piercing and down the thick vein on the underside of his length.
Seeing how your mouth watered just from the sight of his cock, it’s Choso who proves to be the more impatient one as he grips the back of your head with one hand forcing you closer. In his haste, his dick misses your mouth and skids across your cheek, prompting a low growl of curses from Choso. 
Unconcerned with his impatience, you’re still in your own world—and that world in question was currently being filled with the carnal smell of Choso’s scent marking your skin. A long stain of pre smearing across your face mind shuts down now solely driven by your needy cunt.
“I’ll forgive you when you show me how sorry you are—”
“—anything!” 
Quickly snapping out of your dickmatized daze you look up at him with doe eyes, begging for the go-ahead.
“Yeah? Then do it nasty for me, princess.” 
The words have scarcely left Choso’s lips before you’re already parting your own, releasing a viscous well of drool to pour languidly on his dick.
Your saliva mixing with his spilled essence coats his cock and fills the room with vulgar squelches as you obediently pump his hot length. You rotate your grip with a sinful precision while your other hand thumbs his gooch as you’re cupping his balls, kneading them in a manner that had Choso’s toes curling. 
Giving thanks for the meal you are about to consume, you never break eye contact as you deliver pillowy kisses to his tip and strum your tongue under his frenulum. Choso’s abs twitch feverishly when the sultry hollow of your mouth lewdly hums over his piercing. The sounding effect alone is nearly enough to make him bust right then. 
You aren’t holding up well yourself either as your thighs squeeze together soaking your fishnets which had long been sticky with your overflowing arousal. Manifesting that it soon would be the moist suction of your vacant cunt and not of your spit glossed lips that would take him whole as you continue to moan wantonly around his girth.
The memory alone didn’t do your mouth justice to Choso, not that he still didn’t cum plenty from thinking of your lips slobbering around him in the last month.
Fuck if you didn’t always give some crazy ass head though.
However, he knows he has to keep control lest he loses all the progress he made training that lil’ attitude of yours tonight. 
Weaving his muscular hands through your hair, in one swift motion Choso thrusts his hips forward. He groans loudly from your warm gummy throat now stuffed full with his cock. Gargling his girth you choke when Choso’s piercing scrapes the back of your throat as he forcibly bobs your head up and down.
Thick tears burn your vision with your running mascara flowing right down your full cheeks. But it's nothing compared to the fiery burn in your cunt that’s even more jealous than before of your throat getting the treatment it needs so desperately.
“You’re gonna be my good girl from now on? Yeah baby, I know—I know ya are. Now open that throatpussy a lil wider for me, got sum’ for it.”
Heart fluttering at his filthy praises, you easily let him coerce your face flush to his pubic bone to take him to the very hilt. Your nose is buried in his dark pubic hair and his balls slap your chin at every thrust. The harsh treatment has your tears mingling with his fluids to coat your face and stain his jeans. 
This is how you should be. 
Obedient and pretty while your sobs vibrate around his cock destroying your throat. All you had to do was worry about taking care of him—in turn he would take care of you and the rest.
Shit though, going so long without your bratty little mouth around his dick Choso wasn’t about to last too much longer. 
His blunted nails dig into your scalp as he hunches, curling over your body from the sloppy way he plows even deeper into you. 
“You’re gonna take all of it princess. Every last bit, understood?”
Choso takes your unintelligible gurgles and the hands shoving against his thighs as confirmation. A needy grunt is followed by jets of his creamy load spurting down your esophagus.
Teeming with adrenaline, you gasp for air. Your lungs are on fire from sputtering up his tangy spunk that somehow even trickled into your windpipes. Choso’s fluids dribble down your chin, a show of proof from you having milked his cock so thoroughly. 
But you're not angry with him for the rough treatment—on the contrary. 
Once your coughs subside you’re gazing up at Choso like an innocent lamb and not the nasty throat goat you just proved yourself to be. Praying you have been enough of a good girl for him to finally fuck your lil’ cunt as hard as you needed.
Plug!Choso who rewards you with gentle strokes that smooth your hair back and caress your flushed cheeks stained with his spunk.
Keeping true to his promise of every last bit, Choso thumbs the remaining salty fluids soiling your face back into your mouth, dumping the excess onto your tongue that greedily slurps it down.
Satisfied, Choso straightens and beckons you onto his lap with a pat to his thigh. Smirking at your enthusiasm as you clumsily settle in. 
“Now doesn’t it feel nice…being a good girl for once?”
Choso affectionately twirls your hair in his fingers and you bob your head eagerly. 
Your lips are mere centimeters apart.
You want to kiss him but Choso doesn’t feel like you earned that just yet, balling his fist to tug your locks taunt when you lean in.
“Not yet, baby.”
You stick your lip out, fussing in aroused frustration. 
“Tsk—now, now none of that shit, brats don’t get kisses—and they certainly don’t get this dick.”
If the look in his eyes were any indication you knew Choso meant business. The searing eye contact had long incinerated all the walls you’d built to keep him out, exposing the very essence of you laid bare in the ashes. 
You have no more defenses against him, becoming more obedient to his every word.
Seconds pass that seem like achingly brutal hours until he breaks the staredown. His sights now follow his hands as they splay out trailing from your collarbone to your breasts, letting them weigh heavy in his palms.
His lecherous scrutiny has you shivering.
“You let anyone touch these?”
The question startles you as does the sensation of Choso rolling your stiffened peaks between his knuckles before giving them a cruel tug. 
You sniffle as you shake your head ‘no’, trying not to whine and still unable to speak from him pounding your vocal cords raw. 
Choso grins knowingly as his hands fondle your plush mounds, kneading the supple flesh and pushing them together before the steamy cavern of Choso’s mouth consumes both at once. The bar of his pierced tongue swirled between your hardened buds, lapping, slurping and nibbling. Squirming you arch back deeper into his mouth and grind your soaked lil cunny on his rapidly stiffening length. Your hands cling to his pigtails for any semblance of an anchor keeping you from tumbling backwards. 
Spurred on by your shuddering cries Choso withdraws from your swollen peaks with a pop and licks up the string of spit that cobwebs between them. His tongue flattens licking each one dutifully as he watches as your jaw slacks from pleasure.
You’ve been so deprived of his touch. You could cum from just a bit more of this.
Yet Choso’s lips don’t stop traveling your body, even higher this time to adorn your decolletage with searing hickies. 
Uncaring if they actually showed up to brand your skin or not.
Choso only needs you to feel them bruise beneath your flesh.
That way you wouldn’t so soon forget exactly who you belonged to.
“And what about my bratty lil’ pussy, princess? I know how needy she is. You let one of those frat fuckers inside her?”
His hot heady breaths puff out to curl around your earlobe, leaving the severely neglected spot in between your thighs throbbing at her mention. 
You think you might actually die if he ignores your cunt for much longer. 
Your thong is utterly drenched. More arousal trickles onto his lap as his muscular hands settle back on your hips. 
“N-no!”
Sounding more like a croaked plea, your voice is barely above a whisper from the hoarseness that settled in your throat.
“W-Waited f-for you Cho.” 
“Then show me.”
Plug!Choso who has you even more intoxicated off the thought of him giving you a pussy inspection. 
He has nearly succeeded in domesticating you and your arms wrap around him submissively as you moan unabashedly into his neck. 
Choso muses he should have handled your snobby ass like this sooner and saved himself some trouble. 
Lifting you, Choso rises from the bed. 
You haven’t realized you’ve moved at all until you crash into the edge of your vanity, shaking the table with a thud. Rattled, you look back, giving Choso the leverage he needs to spin you around. Dizzy from the sudden movement, your arms fly out—scattering bottles of makeup and perfume as you grasp at the wooden tabletop. 
The items roll on the floor in tandem with Choso rolling his hips up against you. You release a loud mewl from his hard erection teasingly poking into your ass.
Thinking only with your pussy, your impatient pleas are met with another slap to the ass. The increased weight behind his hand this time leaves your nerve endings sizzling. 
You were gonna be such a sweet girl by the time he was done with you.
However, he wouldn’t torture you for too much longer. 
Despite his cold authoritarian demeanor, the image of shoveling his cock deep into your creamy cunny after so long of only jerking to the memory has him about to lose it. Grasping the front of your hips, Choso jerks you flush against his pelvis. You fall forward until your cheekbone is smooshed into the vanity’s mirror and his thick bulge molding itself in-between your cheeks
“Stay just like that for me, yeah baby? Hands on the mirror, they better not fuckin’ leave either.”
You position your hands obediently and Choso, as if praising you, tenderly gifts lustful kisses down your spine while he pampers your reddening bottom with gentle caresses. 
“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”
The more feral his nature, the more like his prey you became. Choso licentiously inspects your body—gripping, sniffing, and nipping at your heated skin until he is level with your ass. 
You whimper as Choso rips your fishnets ripping them open, admiring the indents on your skin from the jeweled tights before burying his face between your squishy cheeks. 
His nose salaciously nuzzles against the soaked material stuck to your barely covered hole and he releases a hot guttural sigh, purring into your pussy. 
Always a fiend for dining on your cunt, Choso is brimming with contentment from your juices leaking onto his face. This may have been your punishment but it was also his reward as the taste of your filthy lil plum never failed to drive him wild—often opting to spend most of the night with his face between your hips, he’d still cum plenty times from just thrusting into the air as he let you ride his face.
Licking his lips, Choso’s tongues traces the pattern of your thong and sucks your juices from the saturated fabric. You’re both loudly moaning now—Choso from the saccharine flavor of your cunt and you from the sweet relief of the hot languid strokes of his skillful tongue.
Choso might have lost himself in that moment of finally getting to taste you again. His eyes roll back at how you lewdly leak through your soaked thong.
All for him. 
You were still his even after all this time.
However, it's your own hastiness that reminds him your penance is worth more than his own pleasure when your ass wiggles impatiently lowering onto his face when Choso’s tongue piercing starts drawing lazy circles around your sensitive lil pearl.
“C-Cho, n-need you…puh-lease s’not fair—”
Determined to control every sensation he gives to you and holding you in place, Choso scolds you.
“Fair? Nah, know what’s not fair, princess?”
His lips move closer to ghost over your ass causing goosebumps to rise over the warm tender skin.
“You actin like a bitch for a whole fuckin’ month and keeping all this good pussy away from me.”
You shudder when his teeth sink into your jiggly flesh causing you to yelp and rock against the vanity.
You’d get more pleasure when he wanted you to. 
Choso would screw that lesson into you soon enough. 
“Fuck—the only thing sweet about you is this lil’ pussy. You’re such a brat but she's so honest. Then again—maybe it's your slutty lil’ pussy that’s actually the brat, thinking she runs shit because of how good she is at milking cock, yeah?”
Choso confirms his suspicions upon peeling your soaked thong to the side. Strings of your arousal practically glue the material to your cunt. Not hesitating to make more of a mess of you, he illicitly hawks globes of his spit into your already dripping lil’ hole eagerly winking at him.
“Let’s see what this slutty cunt has to say for herself, hm?”
Choso places a chaste kiss over your entrance before driving two fingers straight in. Your hands leave streaks down the mirror as you perspire, fogging up the glass with your breathy cries.
Speeding up his pace he digs the pads of his fingers into your walls, searching until they run over a spongy hard spot and he has to fight to keep a hand on your lower back to hold you in place.
God you were virgin-tight again. 
Before ignoring you, Choso had only ever gone three days without fucking you and even then you’d been crying from his tip just stretching the entrance of your taut lil pussy. 
In the past, Choso would have taken his time with you. He knew he needed to work you open more so you wouldn’t be sore tomorrow, and yet his cock throbbed to life again so urgently he couldn't restrain himself for much longer.
That’d be something you’d just have to fucking deal with. 
This was all your fault after all. 
Plug!Choso who wouldn’t let you deprive him of his pussy for any longer—however, he was still going to make you beg for it.
“Tell me what you want, princess.”
Choso rips the thong clean off your ass cheeks. 
Leaving you exposed bare in your fishnets he rises up to lean over you. His moist breath trickles electricity down your spine as his bricked length roughly pipes between your cheeks. 
“Nghh…w-want your c-cock…”
“Whose cock—so you know me now, princess?—Choso is that it?” 
Choso mocks your voice with the hurtful words you hurled at him during the garden brunch. Gliding his girth to prod over your entrance and miss its mark intentionally. 
“Pleeaseee—C-Choso-C-Choso-C-Choso.” 
The pleas of his name slur together as your attention solely focuses on how his leaky shaft lathers your already dripping folds in his pre. 
“That’s right princess…now tell me who am I to you?”
Choso reaches around to swat at your swollen clit. 
You cry out as your body slick with sweat jolts up violently. Choso has to throw more of his weight onto you to keep you from slipping off the vanity entirely.
You could have actually fallen to the floor without noticing as the fuzzy feeling in your brain intensifies, too much is happening all at once. Your intoxicated thoughts swirl in its attempt to work out the finer details of your relationship with Choso—details you likely wouldn't have been able to answer even while completely sober.
Who was Choso to you?  
Well, frankly, right now he was technically nothing. You had never previously defined your relationship and hadn’t had any communication at all over the last month until just a few days ago.
Your dealer? Friend? Casual hookup? Situationship? 
By and large, it had been your fault that you’d never discussed it. You actively ran from any complicated conversations or pulled away whenever Choso proposed something that would be too close to affirming your status. 
You also knew how much Choso liked you, especially from how he’d blush when other parents in Yuji’s class would mistake the two of you for a couple. 
You weren’t a couple though—even if you acted like you were behind closed doors. 
Even so, you knew how he made you feel when you were with him and knew what you wanted him to be to you now. 
That was enough.
Goddamnit.
Your body threatens to explode from the vulnerability of your exposed emotions pricking at your every nerve while you work up the courage to say it. 
This admission was somehow even harder than confessing you loved him—which had honestly been relatively easy in comparison as you were so upset you would have done anything at that moment to make him stay. 
Face on fire, you clasp your eyes shut—as if not looking at Choso in the mirror means he somehow can’t hear the words that stumble out of you.
“M-My boyfriend!”
Silent tears fall as you fear his reaction, you’ve never been the one to lay your feelings on the line first.
Had you really missed your chance to be with him?
Would he just fuck you and leave after?
Choso remains silent as his hands glide up your sides, feeling you tremble under his touch. He lifts your torso, pulling you to his chest possessively. Choso’s arms encircle you as they weave between your breasts and he licks a stray tear away. 
Now you have the most lewd, yet perfectly unhindered, view of his hefty mushroom tip as it quickly slots through your puffed folds to ram into your clit.
The wide grin on his features is evident as your face crumples and pleasurable sobs rupture from you. Choso rests the side of his face against your neck as he takes in your smell, giving you a chaste kiss and savoring how much his body is scenting yours.
“Oh? You asking me out, princess? Well, I’m flattered you finally asked, but that's not exactly the answer I was looking for—”
A feverish chill spreads across your skin and you’re shivering as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.
“—as it’s certainly not what you will be calling me when I’m pushing your kidneys back.”
Choso’s hands lazily roam your body while he continues to sneak his length through your thighs. You unconsciously arch back to rest your nape on his shoulder, allowing him better access to touch you.
So he wasn’t talking about your relationship status after all?! 
Still the devious smile on Choso’s face tells you he intentionally misled you with his phrasing nonetheless. 
“So—who am I?”
The cocky tone in his voice makes it clear exactly what he wants you to call him—and you’d say it—you just need to work up the nerve first.
Unfortunately for you Choso’s patience for your bratty ass had long since depleted.
“Tch, yo we can stop then if—”
You snapped the moment you felt his hands leave you.
“NO, DADDY!” 
“I’ll be a good girl Daddy…s’good. I-I promise puh-leaseee put it in—please—need you, Daddy!”
There was no way in hell Choso would have left without sticking his dick in you but he knew that you were too hard up right now to even dream of calling his bluff.
“That’s right princess. I’m your Daddy. Now show Daddy that arch baby.”
Plug!Choso who smirks into your skin as he tastes you. The sting from a tiny love bite blossoming as he manhandles you back down onto the table’s surface when your already cockdrunk mind doesn’t have you moving fast enough.
“But you’re still actin’ up a lil baby—so you gonna have to put this dick in yourself, got it?”
Choso hums at your dizzy babbles of confirmation, slipping his thumbs over your chubby pussy lips to spread you open. Choso is in awe of how slutty your cunt looked, clenching around nothing but the webs of your own arousal and practically screaming to be busted open wider by his cock.
Catching his tip on your entrance, Choso stalls as he has to chew the inside of his own cheek to resist not thrusting into you completely—you’d do the rest from here. 
Choso was just glad you weren't looking in the mirror to see how hard his abs were trembling. 
Exhaling shaky breaths, you ease back onto him, gingerly sinking down his length. Your kitten nails fitfully scratch at the table just from the stretch of just getting his wide mushroom tip inside. 
SHIIIIT-SHIIIT-SHIIIT—Too much! 
You grit your teeth, he’s so big stretching the walls of your cunt to the degree that your walls actually try to push him out when you flex. However, Choso’s hands are digging into your hips to secure you in place. He’s not helping nor hindering you—but he isn’t letting you run any either.
Your knees knock against the vanity, trembling this much and he's only halfway in. 
“Come on, princess…”
Choso coos gently as he rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumbs, coaxing you to relax. 
The dichotomy between Choso’s treatment erratically switching in severity leaves you reeling. You're on edge with heightened arousal, never sure if his next words or touch would be rough or soothing yet either way it leaves you wanting more of him—anything he’d give, you’d take. 
But right now you need him to have a lil mercy on you. 
Tears brim your wide eyes as you pout and look at him through the mirror, pleading with him.
“Puh-leaseeee Cho—m’daddy…help me?”
Your pitiful submission has Choso cracking. His need to ruin you after so long winning over his want to delay your pleasure along with everything else.
Sighing, Choso relents.
“You know, I spoil you too much, princess…s’why you’re so rotten now.”
No sooner had he finished speaking did he hastily slam into you. Your wet warmth completely sucks him in whole and wraps around him so sinfully he has to dig his blunted nails deeper into your hips to keep from immediately painting your walls white.
God, he really was so incredibly weak for your perfect lil’ pussy.
Grunting, Choso sets an unrelenting tempo as he continues to rail into your cervix, each bruising thrust was him reminding you of every time you ignored him—pretended you didn’t know him—told people you were just friends—and for making him even love someone as mean and bratty as you in the first place.
Grabbing onto the clothing bunched at your waist for leverage, Choso pistoning his hard length in and out of you felt like he was ripping your guts out along with it. 
Gathering together a coherent thought right now was impossible. It’s so good but so intense your body reflexively reaches a hand back, frantically pressing against his abs to slow him.
Choso growls, stilling your hand behind your back while his other springs out to pin your head on the table. 
You were blocking his view of how your ass rippled every time he pounds his cock deeper into your cunt.
He just needed you to be good and take it. 
And take it you did.
Choso fucks you so hard your vanity table creaks and repeatedly slams into your wall causing the entire room to shake. Your mind goes blank as if his cock controls the very flow of blood in your body. Surging tingling sensations electrifying your veins when the curve of his length knocks his albert piercing so aggressively against your cervix. 
Your gooey walls build up so much pressure around his thickness that white spots edge your vision so very close to your nirvana.
“Don’t even think about cumming until I say so my slutty lil’ princess—hold that shit for daddy.”
But there was no way you couldn’t and just as you are at the very edge of your bliss Choso rips it away from you, halting once again to still inside of you.
“Mmmm no please-please-puhleeease let me cum Choso! Please fuck me right Daddy!” 
Plug!Choso, who as much as he wants to edge you past your limits, really pulled out because he also needs to calm down. Choso removes his shirt overhead as the heat in the room has skyrocketed to near sweltering. 
Even unmoving inside you, your pussy still flexes around him like crazy. You weren’t on birth control so he never came inside you, not even once before. Pulling out normally to release over your stomach, ass or tits and wearing a condom on days it wasn't as safe. 
Although he desperately wants to cum inside you, to really mark you as his, could he risk it? 
It would be so stupid and so irresponsible, going far beyond any punishment. 
You still had a year of school left.
He couldn't knock you up. 
Then again you didn't need to go to classes physically—you could take them online. 
Pushing his more debased and wicked thoughts aside, ultimately Choso reigns himself in. He didn’t even want to put you in that position. He’d support you regardless, but he’d admittedly die inside if you decided not to have his child. 
“S-Shit! C-Cho the door!” 
Seeing the sliver of hallway light cast into your dimly lit room, you realize now that you must have forgotten to lock it. This was an old house and your door had the habit of coming open easily from just some minor movement in your room if left unlocked. 
Choso fucking you like he hated you was surely enough to knock it loose.  
Unfortunately for you though, Choso didn’t give a fuck. 
Abruptly snapped out of his perverse breeding fantasies, Choso’s feral eyes, tinged red from his high meet your frantic ones in the mirror.
“No.”
The renewed vigor of his cock plowing through you again strangles any protests, gagging you on them as you feel him back in your throat from the intensity. 
“Nah princess, let them all hear how hard you sob on this loser’s cock while he fucks some manners into you.”
And sob you did. It was difficult to do anything else really as him moving inside you again had your body buzzing more than from your actual high. 
“It doesn’t matter, cause I am about to fuck you so hard even the walls downstairs start shaking—”
Choso’s heavy balls slap against your clit when he kicks his thrusts up a notch and hitches your leg up on the vanity. 
“—n’when they discover us there’s no way they will even want a cockdrunk brat who lets her ‘weirdo burnout stalker’ get her high and fuck her stupid as a president.”
Your mind, clearly ruined by his dick thinks that might not actually be so bad. 
“Shit, you tightened up baby, you actually want someone to find us? See how good I slut you out, yeah?”
Honestly, the harder he thrusted inside you the less you cared—about anything.
School. 
The sorority. 
Your presidency. 
None of it made you feel anywhere near as fulfilled as you were right now with Choso’s thick girth ripping through you. 
The walls quake even more violently. 
The soggy clicking sounds from your soaked cunt almost reach the volume of your crazed screams for him to fuck you even harder. 
Choso was so fucking close again, he was beginning to lose reason.
“F-Fuck it—should I cum in you, princess? I’ll even let you cum too this time.”
Your brain on a mission to cum, fucked so smooth by his fat cock, could care less as long as you got to cum too. 
Oh fuck, just a lil more and you would—
“—PREZ! Did you get the goods or not? We wanna start roll—”
On her phone texting, Brianna—who is pretty fucked up herself—did not even register that the sex noises came from your room. Thinking Choso had left already and sure you were up here salty about her ‘stealing him away’. 
All the color drains from Brianna’s face as she drops her phone as well as her red solo cup filled with spiked seltzer, splashing on her outfit as well as the floor. 
Through the mirror's reflection, she can see the pleasurable agony painted all over your face from getting your cheeks clapped into oblivion by the obvious third leg Choso was packing. Your eyes to the ceiling, heaving out wails as your tongue hangs out of your mouth waging with every thrust Choso carves into your guts. The clicking sound of his cock stirring up your tight lil’ pussy echoes throughout your room. 
“OH MY GAWD! So it was true? You’re actually fucking him??? OHMYGAWDOGMYGAWD they aren’t going to believe this!”
Cockdrunk and stupified you couldn’t give even a piece of a fuck. Honestly, you wouldn't have even noticed her if Choso didn’t stop again. 
No, No, No. You were so sick of being edged! Not after he finally was going to let you cum. 
This can’t be happening right now.
You couldn’t take it anymore. 
You needed to cum so bad. 
Your vision is blurry with moisture caught in your lashes as you push yourself up. Grasping onto the edge of the tabletop you used it as leverage to weakly fuck yourself back onto him, doing the work this time if he wouldn’t.
You wouldn’t let Brianna’s ass of all people prevent you from having the orgasm you’ve been fiending over a fucking month for.  
“I jushh w-wanna cum! Pleasssh, wanna-cum-wanna-cum…”
You chant out shamelessly. Your desperate whines stunning both Choso and Brianna. 
Candidly, both thought you'd be horrified enough to stop. 
Choso especially, as even after everything tonight wouldn’t have been shocked if the mortification of actually being caught had you kicking him out.
“Heh.”
Are you actually choosing him for once?
Choso wasn’t going to let the moment pass without finding out—that’s for fuckin’ sure.
The smack he delivers to your cheeks grab your attention as you bellow out more cries. You’re still pathetically trying to get off with your weakened thrusts back. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off—but better than the burning that threatens to incinerate you whole if you stopped.
“Hey Princess, I’ll let you cum just lemme know something first, yeah?”
You nod your head longingly, dizzy with need.
“Tell this bitch whose dick is this?”
For the first time that night, you answered without missing a beat.
“M-Mine m’daddy, its m-mine!”
You pant breathlessly, still trying to rock yourself back on him but you aren't quite hitting the spot. 
Your eyes lock with Brianna’s through the mirror’s reflection yet you are looking straight through her—your eyes vacant as you could only think of Choso’s cock. 
Your cock.
“Nah don’t look at that bitch, look at me princess.”
Not hesitating, your eyes snap over to him.
“Good fucking girl—and whose pussy is this?” 
“You–YOU CHOSO! Please Daddy—please it's s’good, I need it! Please fuck me Daddy!”
Choso turns to Briana who is frozen in place—her eyes are wider than saucers—as she realizes she’s lost.
Reaching over you he grabs an ounce bag and tosses it near her hitting the floor by her feet. Brianna hesitates though, causing Choso to growl impatiently. 
He’d proved his point, now he wanted this bitch gone.
“Yo Gouda—you a voyeur or somethin’?”
Brianna jumps when Choso addresses her quickly shaking her head ‘no’. 
“Then get the fuck up outta here bitch—MOVE!”
In her haste, Brianna slips on the spilled alcohol as she scrambles to quickly snatch up the weed and her alcohol-soaked phone. The door slams shut as she scurries out the door.
Plug!Choso who has lost all desire to punish you. He only wants to be able to see your face twist in pleasure when he finally lets you have your sweet euphoric release.
In a flash, he’s moving you again. Choso swoops you up and tosses you onto the bed, hurriedly making sure the door is locked this time before kicking off his pants and crawling on top of you. 
“Shhhh princess, you did so good baby, m’gonna let you cum. Gonna have you creaming so hard on this cock, s’your cock baby—you earned it.”
Choso is slurring his words as he peppers your body with blood buzzing kisses to hush your anguished whimpers while he peels the remaining clothes off your body. Not being sheathed inside you is killing him just as much, yet he longs to touch your silky skin unimpeded against his own.
“Been taking me s’gud baby, c’mere…”
The both of you now bare, Choso wastes no time plunging back into your heated core, your heels digging into his back at the intensity. 
Damn—you’re so perfect.  
Allowing himself to let go, his mind shatters as Choso melts into your gooey lil’ cunny. 
His lips are desperate to find yours and Choso is no longer able to withhold himself from sinking into a pussydrunk state. Uncaring for any more displays of dominance, the kiss you share is hurried and sloppy causing your thoughts to splinter. 
Your mind fragments into increasingly smaller pieces of incoherency the more frantic Choso’s kiss becomes. His teeth clash with yours and graze over your swollen lips, unable to control himself as he fitfully bruises your clit from the blunt thrusts of his pelvic bone.
Tears glaze your eyes blinding you from the creamy stickiness at Choso’s hilt that splash between your bodies. The musky fluids flow all over your puffed lil’ pussy to drizzle past his aching balls to puddle on your sheets.
“L-Live with me—with me n’ Yuji—FUHHCKKpussysogood—y-you ain’t gotta be here anymore, princess.”
Choso’s forehead rests against yours and his dick twitches inside of you like crazy from the ridges of his thick engorged cock scraping against every nerve in your cunt.
“Be with us, baby. Be our family. I-I–SHIIIIIT—I love you so-much-so-much.”
All of his bravado strips away and there’s just the soft Choso you knew once again. The one who would do anything for you, the one who made your stomach flip and your heart stop—you didn’t want to go through life anymore without him in yours.
“Y-Yes! I wanna—ah fuhhhh—s’gud l-love you D-Daddy!”
Overwhelmed with emotion for you and knowing he would come soon, Choso reaches a shaky hand between you to roughly smash his palm into your sensitive lil’ bud. The soaked slick from your bodies causes his movements to jerk erratically and your hips involuntarily thrash against him.
Choso screws his eyes shut, your bodies so wet he nearly slips off of you in his single-minded focus to make you cum. He has to be ready to pull out of you as soon as you do or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shooting all of his cum in you—yet that’s exactly what your fucked out lil’ pussy wants. 
“C-Cum—cum in me Daddy…”
Your voice is barely above a whisper as you almost fade out of consciousness from the sublime shockwaves that erupt over your body as you are nearly at the peak of your climax.
Choso’s hips falter, almost in a more fucked out condition than you. He nearly dumped his entire load into you then but his last sliver of sanity held out.
“SHIIIIIT—P-Princess—Do ya even know what y’er s-saying to me right now?” 
Time slows, your hand cups his face staring with conviction as best you could into his dark aubergine eyes as your other weakly directs the palm pressing on your clit to rest on your belly.  
“Cum in me Choso—I-I wouldn’t mind having a baby if it's yours.” 
Oh fuck… 
And with that your knees were by your ears and your ankles dangle off his shoulders. 
Sure, you were intoxicated on many substances—his dick included and as much as you may have just been talking shit at this moment Choso doesn’t care anymore.
You’d told him you’d have his baby and it’s all his pussydrunk mind can process.
Like a puppy Choso whimpers his groans keen sharply out of him as his tongue dangles to drip slobber down your neck. He’s reverting back to the sloppy whiny mess you know him to be when hes fucked himself out from treating your drooling hole like a well-loved pocket pussy.
“MHMMM FUCK!”
The knot inside you twists impossibly tighter, straining your nerves until it finally snaps sending shockwaves through you. You lose yourself in nonsensical cries as your worn battered body convulses uncontrollably, creaming around his cock. 
If your brain hadn’t shut down at this very moment—only filled with the white noise of your searing orgasm—you might be worried Choso just broke your bed. The creaking fills the room as the sound of metal bending is apparent although neither of you are concerned.
“—s’gonna be OK, mmm-FUCK—m’gonna take care of you, love you—we’ll be a real family then, you, me, yuji—n’our baby!”
You don’t even hear him as you’re on autopilot now. The red streaks your kitten nails scratch across his muscular shoulders urge him on like the squelching sounds of your squirt gushing out of you and wet smacks of his balls colliding with your ass.
Overstimulating your senses, Choso sweeps you up into another all consuming kiss. The mind-numbing aftershocks of your blissful tremors leaves your tongue limp as his mouth hungrily devours yours. When Choso finally releases, his hot seed pumps into your tummy as his body writhes on top of yours. 
The mind numbing aftershock of your euphoric release continues as Choso proceed to fuck more and more of his thick ropes of his cum into you. He doesn’t show signs of slowing down but your body on the other hand fades, giving into the comforting gratification of sleep after having your guts rearranged. 
“O-one more time, p-princess—pleaseeee.”
Your thankful at that moment you’ve previously told Choso you didn’t mind somnophilia and gave him the free use pass to fuck you while you slept. You rarely actually could even stay asleep with how hard he would end up railing you but there was a first time for everything with your cunt finally content and full after so long your exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber. 
Plug!Choso who tightly cuddles you to him as you both sleep. The two of you twisted up like a pretzel in a mess of limbs with you practically smashed between Choso and the wall. 
Your XL twin bed clearly wasn't meant to comfortably fit two people like this. 
You’re still mostly asleep though, softly groaning as the cheery morning sun pierces through your thin curtains. You move to throw a pillow over your face only to discover you cannot budge. 
However, you can't say you weren’t used to waking up like this. Choso was always a hardcore cuddler. You missed the mornings you’d wake overheated and skin to skin. Your legs would find themselves intertwined just like this. 
Somehow, Choso would always find a way to fuse the both of your bodies together where every part of him was touching some piece of you.
Typical…
The sleepy thought drifts through your brain, sensing it's still far too early for you to wake up. Wanting to drift back to sleep you burrow your face deeper into his chest, stiffening when your mind does the very opposite and wakes up enough to recall the events of the previous night.
Sobering quickly in the daylight, a sinking feeling begins to suffocate your heart. The now familiar guilt you’ve accumulated over the past month amplifies the hangover etching itself behind your eyes. 
You can’t help but panic as the memories from the night before come rushing back. 
There was still so much uncertainty. 
Having been utterly humbled for the first time in your life you can’t stop the self doubt that questions if he’d even meant everything he said last night—you were both lit as hell. 
You’d meant it though.
Your heart seizes at the thought that this might be the last time you’d wake up in his arms. Before you know it you are crying again trembling as you try not to wake Choso up with your silent tears.
You are quiet enough but Choso is also a light sleeper and stirs awake at the small fit you’re having.
“H-Hey, morning princess *yawns*—wait, what's wrong?”
His tired eyes are full of loving concern as Choso cups your face wiping away your tears before bringing you into his chest, tightening his hand on your head.
“Shit, was I too rough on you last night princess? Fuck, I know how much all this shit means to you I—”
You interrupt Choso, you can’t let him beat himself up over you any longer.
“N-No, Cho—”
Sniffling, you break away from his hold just enough to maneuver yourself to meet his tired eyes. 
You mentally kick yourself—you hated being such a crybaby now but you couldn't help it. You were left feeling so vulnerable after being stripped of all pretenses the night before—it all just started pouring out of you— 
“—d-did you mean it? W-What you said? Cause I—I meant what I said. I-I wanna be with you and Yuji. C-Cook breakfast and f-fall asleep watching movies and go to all his games with you—I’ll never miss another game and—and—”
“Bet.”
Wait…huh?
Even after last night you half-still expect him to be upset with you, you’d still expected you’d have to beg. 
You’re left speechless.
“Bet. Let’s pack up your shit then, princess.”
Choso’s bright grin is near blinding to your weary gaze. 
“I meant everything I said, I could never lie to you.”
Giving you a tender kiss on your forehead, he forces you to look him in the eyes. Choso takes in all your looks of uncertainty before melting them away, softly cooing affirmations with his lips fluttering over yours. You’re so needy for his touch as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him even closer.
Not being able to resist your body’s calls for him, you soon find yourself underneath Choso who rubs his morning wood against your core still soaked with his essence from the night before.
Choso smirks down at you, the cockiness back in his voice.
“What I say before? You’re my family—Fuck those bitches and fuck your parents—I got you.”
Plug!Choso, who doesn’t know what time it is but knows he has to go pick up Yuji from his friends soon. He also doesn’t know if he should expect your nosy ass sorority sisters to barge in again. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sinking into your sopping heat once more, never taking his lips off of you. 
Unlike the fervor of last night, his strokes are slow. The anger and intensity are gone, but the passion still remains simmering under your skin. Choso is savoring every bit of you as he devours your mewls, drinking them down along with any lingering unsureties. 
But, fuck—he doesn't feel like he’ll be able to keep himself from cumming inside you from now on. Not when you’d be living with him and Yuji, acting all domestic like. 
Images of a would-be future with you swirl in his mind—you pregnant, giggling at Yuji when he jumps in surprise from feeling the baby kick—your belly growing so large you had to cradle a hand underneath when you adorably waddled from room-to-room—the day of delivery when you both finally get to meet the child you cr—
—MUTHRFUUUUH!
Choso’s eyes roll towards the ceiling as he whines loudly, his whole body is shivering along with his premature release. Buckets of his viscous seed slosh in your womb with every sloppy stutter of his hips, pushing the mass overflow of his cum out of your swollen hole and down the crack of your ass.
Fucking you through his overstimulation, your cries only fuel his intent to impregnate you. The want for the sensual intimacy that slow fucking brings after a reconciliation being overtaken by the intense primal urge to put a baby in your belly.
There was no need for any additional vocalizations of affection when Choso is so adamantly reciprocating your feelings, his creamy cum filling you with promises of his devotion which he fucks even deeper into your womb. 
You aren’t able to recall the last time you felt this satisfied. Working so hard to meet everyone else’s standards was exhausting and you didn’t regret your choice.
You had no plans now other than being with Choso. 
And contrary to the dread of what you had previously thought deviating off course would be like—it frees you. You love and trust Choso enough to let go of all of it and just let life take you where it would.
You’d be content as long as you have him and Yuji. 
Choso knows this yet even so, he is still on a mission to add a fourth to your new little family sooner rather than later. 
He knew you were speaking of the future when you said you’d have his kid the night before but—why delay the inevitable? 
Choso needed to fill you up at least 2 more times before he’d let you leave this bed—no matter how many of your sorority sisters would walk in—they could watch for all he cares.
Yeah at this rate you’d definitely be pregnant by the start of school next year.
Shit, he’d have to go buy a ring soon.
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⋙ how was that? holy hell i think this is the longest fic i've written lol. i wanted to take my time with this because although brat taming isn't hard i still wanted to capture the essence of choso. he can be mean enough to do it he's definitely going to internally struggle a bit and be our whiny feral lil baby gworl at the end lol.
taglist will be in a reblog in the morning. needed to get this out and then go to bed. i might also edit it a bit as well. as some of it wasn't proofed.
reblogs and comments so appreciated, i wanna know what u think, send me asks too!
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luvjunie · 1 year
Note
earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?
— facetime
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pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader
contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol
summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537
a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot
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“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“
“that is literally you trying to control me.”
you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.
you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.
you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.
“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”
“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.
“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”
while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.
since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.
miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.
so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.
you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”
he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.
“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.
what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.
“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.
his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.
he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.
“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.
“and watch your mouth.”
chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.
“yeah, you’re right. we are.”
thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.
“bet.”
____
you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.
you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.
you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—
“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”
the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.
“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.
he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.
“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”
you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.
“window. you should really lock that.”
“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.
“true.”
his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.
you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.
“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.
he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.
“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.
“do you know what boundaries are?”
“nah, not really.” he admitted.
you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.
“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.
he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”
you sighed.
this boy was going to be the death of you.
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
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downbadf0rficppl · 8 months
Text
pink in the night
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!
AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3
Repost
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Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.
On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.
This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.
You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.
He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.
He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.
Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.
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Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.
You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.
Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.
You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.
You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.
Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.
Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.
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Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.
It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.
Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.
The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.
He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.
"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'
As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.
"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.
"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."
He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.
"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.
"No point."
Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."
"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."
Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.
Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.
The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.
He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.
"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.
"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.
"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.
"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."
Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.
He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.
He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.
When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.
He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.
"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.
You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."
He was gone by the time you turned around.
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The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.
"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"
"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"
"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."
"He can't even masturbate you know?"
The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.
No, that blame could only lie with you.
When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.
You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.
You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.
" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."
"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."
"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"
"Yeah, man, really sucks."
Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.
You had to get to the bottom of this.
You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.
You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.
Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.
He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.
"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.
You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"It's stupid."
"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.
Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"
Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."
"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"
"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.
Bucky didn't miss that either.
He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.
"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.
"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.
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He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.
"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.
He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.
He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.
"Off."
You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.
His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."
Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.
"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.
"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.
"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.
You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.
He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.
He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.
"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."
He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.
"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."
"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.
He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.
"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.
Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.
Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.
He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.
"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.
Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.
He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.
He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.
Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.
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You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.
Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.
"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.
The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"
He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"
You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."
You stifled a laugh.
"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."
You looked at him confused, "Why not?"
"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."
You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.
"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.
He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.
He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you I love you I love you.
fin.
buy me a coffee
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