#but what he really means is please for the love of GOD let me hold your hand
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tofics · 3 days ago
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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)
Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”  “I said yes,” you snap.  Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.
😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.
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S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.
“Your glasses broke.”  “Yeah. I see that.”  “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.”  “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
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Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
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“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.
S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
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“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
�� Sir yes, sir.
“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
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“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.
Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
🫠🙃🫠🙃
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
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“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
*inhales* - *screams*
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”
😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
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You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.
Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!
Seeing Red
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“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)
Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too
I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚
You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.
“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 
You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”
“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 
Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply.
“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 
“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 
 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 
“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.
“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 
You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want this,” you grouse.
“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 
“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 
Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”
“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 
“I said yes,” you snap. 
Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”
“Just okay.” 
‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 
Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 
-
He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”
“Mmm, no.” 
Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 
Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”
“Fuck off, Joel.” 
So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 
-
“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 
“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 
“What’re you talkin’ about?” 
“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 
Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”
“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 
Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 
“The other one.” 
You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 
So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”
“JESUS,” you yell at him. 
“What?”
“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 
 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 
“No. It was burning me.” 
“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 
You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 
“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 
“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 
“You can ask, you know.” 
But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”
“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 
“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”
“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 
“Yes.” 
He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 
“It’s not your business.”
 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 
“I don’t want to,” you whine. 
“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 
“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 
“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 
You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 
“All of it.” 
You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 
“Yeah. I see that.” 
“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.
“Right.” 
“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 
“Somewhere else.” 
“Right. Somewhere else.” 
He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 
“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”
Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 
“Yes.” 
Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 
“Good.”
Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 
Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 
-
My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 
“Joel.” 
No answer. 
“JOELLLL,” you yell. 
Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 
He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”
You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”
“Hm,” he hums.
“What’s hm?” 
“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”
“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 
Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”
“Try what again?” 
You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 
“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.
“Yeah, but-” you begin.
Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”
He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.
“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”
You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 
There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 
“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 
He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 
 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“Fuck me,” you whisper. 
“Exactly.” 
Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 
You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 
“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”
“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”
“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”
“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 
“Figures.”
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 
He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 
“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 
Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.
“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”
“Joel, I– ”
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 
 You obey his rule and nod, yes.
He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
Yes. You nod again. Quiet.
“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”
With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 
With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…
“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 
With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 
And fucks you, and fucks you. 
And keeps fucking you. 
It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 
This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.
 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 
“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 
“I’m - I’m–”
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”
 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 
He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”
“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”
“I don’t think I can, Joel…”
“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 
That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”
You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.
He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 
Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 
“Super, yeah. Sore.” 
“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 
If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷
Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.
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dreamwritesimagines · 12 hours ago
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Sunshine [9] - Tranquility
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your patience! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: Simple days can be calming.
Word Count: 2853
CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
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Well.
This was very fun.
“I mean to repeat, I do have a hammer at home,” you said, leaning your elbows on the cart as you pushed it slowly and Logan raised his brows.
“Just a hammer?”
“Yeah, I wanted to put up that framed picture of me and Theo so Jamie brought it and then forgot it.”
“Exactly why we’re here.”
Home Depot wasn’t really your favorite place to shop in, you couldn’t even remember when the last time you had been there was. Needless to say, you felt a bit overwhelmed as you looked at the aisles with many tools and construction products, but Logan seemed right at home there, and the simple act of going shopping together -whether it was at a store you were familiar with or not- made you feel all warm inside.
Who knew the aftermath of breaking your bed would be fun as well?
Logan grabbed a pack of what seemed like tiny pieces of metal to put it in the cart, and you looked around, then gasped.
“Let’s get these, they look prettier!”
“Screw anchors?”
You tilted your head.
“Well if you feel that strongly about them…”
“No I mean— that’s what they’re called.”
“They’re yellow, I like yellow!” you said, grabbing the pack off the hook to hold it up and Logan chuckled.
“Sweetheart, if we’re going to use them on your bed, they need to be metal. Your bed frame is metal.”
You looked down at the pack. “Oh, these look plastic.”
“Mm hm, they are plastic.”
“Well, where do people use these?”
“On drywall, mostly,” he said. “When you’re hanging—hold on, did Jamie just put a screw into the wall for those frames you mentioned?”
“Yeah.”
He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat and took the pack from you to put it into the cart as well.
“Yay!”
“Anything else you want from here?”
You looked over at the shelf, then shook your head and Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to himself as you both went into another aisle.
“So wait, you need to put stuff into the wall to put stuff into the wall?”
“Mm hm.”
“Why?”
“Well, otherwise the screw can slip out of the wall when you hang something,” he said. “Anchors make sure whatever is on the wall doesn’t fall on anyone. It’s the same logic with anchoring furniture.”
“None of my furniture is anchored.”
“Babe, you have a mirror in your living room.”
“I just leaned it to the wall,” you pointed out and Logan heaved a sigh, then gently guided you into another aisle.
“I’m guessing you don’t have a drill?”
“Good guess—Logan, we’re not buying a drill!”
He went closer to one of the shelves to grab one to check it. “Why not?”
“I’m not gonna use it.”
“I’m gonna use it, I don’t want that mirror to fall on you.”
“It’s on the other side of the room.”
“Accidents happen,” he said. “That thing needs to be anchored along with God knows what. Every home needs a drill.”
You scrunched up your face, leaning back to the shelf.
“Debatable,” you said. “Every home needs a medicine cabinet. A drill is just something people in home makeover shows use.”
“What are makeover shows?”
Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God, you’ve never watched those? We’re so watching those, I need your commentary.”
Logan turned the drill in his hand and you bit inside your cheek, trying to fight the urge to jump on him in the aisle of Home Depot. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus and crossed your arms.
“Not that one,” you said and Logan turned his gaze to you.
“Why not?”
“We should get that one,” you pointed at the other drill on the shelf and Logan bit back a smile.
“Babe, that one is 12 volts. This one is 18.”
“Volt isn’t everything,” you said as if you knew what you were talking about and Logan pulled his brows together.
“It is kind of important in a drill—”
“Yeah but Logan, that’s orange,” you said and grabbed the pack of yellow plastic anchors out of the cart to hold it up. “See? They’ll match if we get this one!”
Logan stared at you as if he was trying to find the right words to disagree with you but you pulled your brows together before putting the pack next to the drill so that he could see it better.
“Same shade!” you insisted as you pressed your finger on the drill, looking up at him and the corners of his lips twitched, that fond light shining in his eyes before he nodded slowly, then put the drill in his hand into the shelf to grab the one you were pointing at.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get the matching drill then.”
                                                 *
At first you had been worried about being too much of a bother when Logan said he’d be fixing your bedframe but now, sitting on the couch eating the snacks you got on your way back home, you couldn’t help but notice Logan looked very comfortable and happy to be helping you out. Right after you got back home, he fixed your bedframe but apparently having a drill and a toolbox within his vicinity had awakened something in him that he was now working on what could be “fixed” in your living room.
You could’ve sworn his face had lit up like a Christmas tree when you mentioned you had shelves somewhere that you had been procrastinating on putting up.
“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” you asked as you popped a piece of chocolate in your mouth and he shook his head, holding the shelf against the wall to draw on where he’d put it up.
“No need princess.”
“I could help, I have some experience in it,” you pointed out. “Not very pleasant experience but experience nonetheless.”
“How’s that?”
“Um, when I was a child, whenever something broke in our house my dad would want to fix it himself,” you said. “And he’d ask me to hold the flashlight and but then scold me for pointing it at the wrong place.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh yeah.”
He looked at you over his shoulder before grabbing the drill and turned it on, making you grimace at the loud noise. He drilled two holes in the wall, then grabbed the plastic anchors and the hammer to nail them in.
You’d had a wet dream like this.
“How did you learn how to do all this?” you asked him and he shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ve been around for some time. You pick up hobbies.”
“And that’s your hobby?”
“I like fixing things,” he said. “And building stuff.”
You sat up straighter, your whole attention on him.
“Okay, so I can add it to the list of things I know about you,” you said with a bright smile. “I’m quite proud of myself you know, growing that list isn’t the easiest thing in the world.”
Logan shot you a small grin. “Subtle.”
“Hey I’m just warning you beforehand,” you said, holding your hands up. “You won’t even see me coming and before you know, you’re opening up to me.”
“Oh is that what’s gonna happen?”
“Yeah,” you said. “I’m too stubborn to quit.”
Logan’s smile was calm before he took a deep breath, then started working on the shelf again.
“It’s just…” he murmured. “A long story, you know? Too much to tell.”
“That’s okay,” you said softly. “I’ve got time. And until then, you can listen to me talk about absolute nonsense.”
“I like doing that, in case it escaped your notice.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest and you took a deep breath, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“So yeah, I apparently held the flashlight wrong. And there was also that one time—I’m just not the best at fixing things, there was that one time Julie tried to teach me how to change a tire but I ended up convincing her to go get mimosas instead. She’s really good at all that, I swear she and IKEA manuals have something going on that the rest of us human kind cannot understand, she built my wardrobe and I honestly just provided her with cookies—oh my God, Logan!” you said with a gasp. “Do you want cookies?”
A fond smile curled his lips as he looked at you over his shoulder.
“No seriously, I know you liked the chocolate chip ones but I’ve been dying to try this new recipe, it has mint chocolate—do you like mint chocolate? I hope you’re not one of those people who say mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste because I am a ride or die mint chocolate lover, but I think I can also make—”
You were cut off when he strode to you to lean down and kiss you, cutting you off before you let out a giggle.
“Yeah,” he said, pulling back to look at you better. “I’d love some.”
You beamed up at him and stole another kiss from him.
“So yes to the mint chocolate cookies then?”
He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, that loving look in his eye making your heart skip a happy beat.
“Sure thing sweetheart,” he said. “Yes to the mint chocolate cookies.”
                                                        *
The more time you spent with Logan, the giddier you felt. You knew that you were supposed to keep yourself in check and play it cool considering everything between you two was very new, but it felt as if since you two had got together, you hadn’t been able to stop smiling.
Or it could’ve been just mind-blowing sex.
Either or.
“I’m not really much of a TV person.”
“And I respect that, but not having seen Titanic is simply just not acceptable,” you said as you poured the popcorn into the bowl and made your way to the couch. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you to his lap, making you let out a squeal as you straddled him with a giggle.
“You’re not distracting me this time,” you told him, pecking him on the lips before getting off his lap to sit beside him, still holding the popcorn bowl tight. You grabbed the remote to start the movie while Logan frowned at the screen as if it had personally offended him.
“I mean I heard about it,” he said. “It’s romance, right?”
“The best romance in the history of humankind.”
Logan pulled his brows together.
“So low expectations, got it,” he said. “The title suggests it’s not gonna end well?”
“Listen, they may have only known each other for four days—”
“Four days?!”
“Yeah but it was true love,” you said in a solemn manner, nodding your head and Logan’s frown deepened.
“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”
“That’s totally how it works,” you said. “It’s like opposites attract wrapped in star-crossed lovers wrapped in a tragic love story. I watched it for like 50 times, it’s my comfort movie. I always cry at the end.”
“Your comfort movie is a movie that makes you cry?”
“Yeah,” you said and grabbed at his arm when turned to look at the screen. “Look, that’s Jack! That’s who Rose falls in love with—wait, Logan, I have a question.”
“Hm?”
“So you were around when Titanic happened?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember it?”
“I remember the news of it, yeah,” he said. “Everyone was shocked by it.”
You took a deep breath to ask him another question but your doorbell rang. You turned your head and stood up but Logan was faster than you, so he walked to the door to open it and as soon as he did, Julie’s voice reached you.
“Holy shit you’re tall.”
“Julie?” you asked as you approached the door and Logan stepped aside. “Hi!”
“Hey, sorry I didn’t…” she motioned at Logan. “It’s just that I texted you and you didn’t answer, and I was on my way here anyway because who just got out of a terrible argument with her ex dickhead of a boyfriend and needed some distraction?”
“Jesus, that asshole again?” you asked and she nodded.
“Yep.”
“Come in!” you said and Julie shook her head.
“No no, I really don’t wanna interrupt your sexy time.”
Logan tilted his head while you shot her a lighthearted glare.
“Come in,” you insisted, pulling her by the arm before closing the door. “We’re watching Titanic. Logan, this is Julie, my best friend. Jules, this is Logan—” you paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.
Boyfriend was a big title and you hadn’t really talked about it before, and you actually didn’t know where Logan stood on this whole thing so you decided to play it safe.
“I told you about him,” you ended up saying and Logan extended his hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Julie said, shaking his hand. “You really are a good looking dude, and I was so right about the lumberjack vibes.”
Logan blinked a couple of times as if he didn’t know how to answer. “…Thanks?”
“No problem.”
“I’m pouring you wine,” you said, making your way to the kitchen with Julie following you, and Logan lingered in the hallway for a moment before going back to the living room.
“Are you sure it’s cool I’m crashing your date?”
You took out a wine glass before pouring some wine in it.
“I’ll be offended if you ask me that again,” you told her and she hugged you, making you smile and press a kiss on her cheek.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to like, buy a baseball bat and threaten him?”
“Nah I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back to take the glass from you. “It’s just fucking frustrating.”
“Screw him, he’s an idiot,” you told her as you held her other hand and you both went into the living room.
“Hey man, sorry about the interruption,” Julie told him, flinging herself on the armchair and Logan shook his head.
“Don’t worry about it. No interruption other than me trying to figure out how these two people will have the ‘greatest love story’ in four days.”
“It is true love!” you said, smacking the back of your hand into your palm to emphasize each word and Logan chuckled.
“Yeah alright, sorry. True love.”
“Weren’t you around when this happened?” Julie asked, motioning at the screen and you grinned.
“We share one braincell,” you told her and Julie crossed her arms, looking at Logan.
“Did you meet Thomas Edison?”
Logan looked almost confused. “Uh, no?”
“Good, he was an asshole. Did you meet Victor Hugo?”
Logan paused for a moment, then turned to look at you. “Are you guys all secretly French?”
“No, we just watched Les Miserables one hundred times,” you answered while Julie sighed.
“A masterpiece, if you will.”
“Better than this whole true love in four days thing?” Logan asked, motioning at the screen and you narrowed your eyes at him.
“Careful there buddy, you’re on thin ice.”
Logan shot you a grin, making you smile back before you turned to Julie.
“Seriously, what happened with that jerk?”
“Oh you know, the usual drill. He called me drunk, started with begging and then that whole thing turned into him listing every single bad thing about me.”
“He was the one who cheated on you.”
“Yeah and you’d think he’d remember that.”
Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him.
“I can beat him up if you want,” he said in such a matter-of-fact tone that it made you look up at him in confusion. Julie let out a small laugh.
“You, I like you,” she said, pointing at him before she looked at you. “I approve.”
“Aw thank you.”
“That being said,” she said. “Logan, you seem like a really nice guy but make no mistake, if you upset her in any way, I’ll get the biggest magnet I can find and point it at you so that I can pull that metal skeleton of yours out of your body.”
“Julie!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening and Logan’s smile widened as if he was merely amused. “Don’t listen to her. She’s nice to me and terrible to everyone else.”
Julie blew you a kiss and Logan nodded his head.
“Noted,” he told Julie and Julie grinned at him.
“See? You and I are gonna get along just fine.”
You heaved a sigh, then grabbed the bowl to hold it out for Julie to take some popcorn. She grabbed a handful, then leaned back to watch the movie while you leaned your head on Logan’s chest, trying to pay attention to the movie. Logan nuzzled into your hair and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making your stomach do a happy flip and you felt a smile warm your face before you bit on your lip, then turned your gaze to the screen again.
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kazumist · 3 days ago
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EPISODE 28 ✦ PLEASE LOVE ME AT MY WORST
LOVE, MAYBE — A CHILDE SMAU
masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 1265.
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fifteen minutes is almost up; am i about to die?
ajax thoughts wander to all sorts of places as he nervously checks and watches the time move on his wristwatch. as to why he agrees so easily to your request to talk to him—he doesn’t know either. it just felt… right to agree. 
he knows it would pain him to say no to you anyway.
perhaps it was just the small part of him that still hopes. that one little speck in him that hopes this “talk” would mend the rift that had formed between the two of you. it was probably stupid to have such expectations when he was pretty sure you were dead set on your answer to him before.
so it confuses him. why did you want to talk? did you want to just slap it in his face once again? no, you weren’t like that. you would never do something that mean. but that just leads him back to square one: why?
the sound of soft footsteps growing louder alerts ajax, and he takes a deep breath because he knows it’s you. yet he takes a glance to check anyway. there you were, standing before him as he gets the familiar feeling of being starstruck surging through him. keep it together, ajax. he warns himself. 
“hi…” you softly said. 
“hey.”
hey? who the hell says hey nowadays, ajax? get a grip! he mentally scolds himself, forcing him to pull out a tight smile to you instead to save him from his embarrassment. meanwhile, you thought otherwise of his reaction. oh god, he probably hates me. he never gives me that smile. it looks so forced. he probably just felt bad and forced himself to meet me out at this hour. your thoughts ran fast inside your mind as you fiddled with your fingers.
“uhm.. i wanted to talk—”
“so why did you want to meet—”
you both paused when you realized you both spoke at the same time. “you go first,” he insisted. but you gestured otherwise and told him, “oh, it’s fine. you can go.”
“i insist. ladies first?”
seeing as this would go nowhere if you just went back and forth like that, you took a deep breath. 
“i love you.”
for the whole day (and the additional fifteen minutes ajax gave you), you thought of many ways on how to approach childe with the topic of what happened before. yet none of those really started with “i love you." the best option you got after thinking so hard actually started with “i’m sorry.” the “i love you” part was supposed to be near the end of the whole monologue you had prepared inside your head.
ajax only stared at you, dumfounded at your words. “shit, sorry, i—that wasn’t how i wanted to start, uhm—” you let out a sigh, a slightly shaky one at that because of your mistake. don’t fuck up this one up and run away again, (name). you mentally took note. but then again, fuck that monologue you prepared beforehand. if you want to do this properly, then it’s better to do this as bare as your emotions could get, right?
taking another deep breath, you decided to speak up again before ajax could. “i’m going to be honest. i actually prepared some long speech that is supposedly transcribed inside my brain right now. but i definitely think i just forgot a good chunk of that speech now that i’m actually with you.” 
“i’m sorry, ajax. i let my fear get the best of me that day. i never wanted to tell you to go away; in fact, i know that i wanted nothing more than for you to hold me at that moment.” you let out a bitter chuckle at that. ajax watches you, listening to every word carefully. he takes in your appearance as well, and the slightly swollen and redness of your eyes were obvious enough for him to know your state as of late.
“i never wanted to push you away. and god, i feel so stupid and guilty for everything that i said that day. because i know none of those were true. well, i guess minus the part where i listed my flaws... because i know those were true in some sense—but i want to—no, nevermind that. i’m trying to change my ways.” you corrected yourself.
“i asked dehya and the others for some advice. and they were right when they said that you had a positive impact on my life and that i’ve never been this happy with someone else other than them. because i swear, you’re just a different case for me, ajax. you make me happy in ways i never thought anyone could bring me joy. when i thought i didn’t have anyone by my side, you were there for me.”
“and i feel so, so, so fucking stupid for shutting you away that day. because deep inside, i knew my heart wanted otherwise. my brain wanted you to leave me alone, but i knew my heart wanted for you to stay. for you to tell me that everything is alright.”
“i guess the main gist of everything that i’m saying is that i love you; i’m sorry. i love you, ajax. and i know i’m probably late, and that you probably hate me right now, and also how you probably just forced yourself outside just so you could meet up with me, but i love you. this whole thing is honestly still scary to me, considering this is the first time i have experienced this in my whole lifespan of eighteen years right now.”
“yet i still love you despite that. i’m sorry that it took me a while. and again, you don’t have to reciprocate it—i just wanted to let this all out. and like i said, you probably hate me—”
“am i allowed to speak now?” ajax.
“i—yeah, go ahead.”
“have i told you that i’m so proud of you?” he asks. you don’t know where he’s going with this. “you might’ve mentioned it once or twice in the past, yeah.” he chuckles at your reply. it feels like your walking on thin ice because you really have no idea if he’s about to drop a bomb right now about him rejecting you.
you don’t think you could handle that anyway.
“thank you, (name). i personally didn’t know what to expect with what you were going to say. but i  don’t hate you. i could never hate you. not now, not ever. hell, i knew that if i said no to your request of having a talk i would definitely regret it. and i’m proud of you that you managed to say all of that. learning how to communicate is a big step already, you know?”
ajax takes a step closer and you didn’t take a step back this time. you let him get close to you this time, fixing the distance that grew after you pushed him away. “and for the record, i love you too” he says, a bit more quietly, as if he really wants only you to hear those words coming from him. “that fact isn’t going to change anytime soon, silly.” 
“i’m sorry again. but i’m ready now. i’m prepared to take a risk in this whole thing they call love. so please love me at my worst, ajax.”
the night ends with ajax walking you home once again—but this time there wasn’t a single residue of the bitterness from before.
this time, it was filled with relief.
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extra notes.
yayyyy!!! communication!!!!
i didn't expect for this episode to be so long. i was 700+ words in when i realized that it was going to be a bit lengthy.
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taglist (open): @xianyoon @mitsvriii @kizakiss @kissingkzuha @aethion @phtogravi @ell1e2010 @esthelily @b4tm4nn @hcmay @ivvieene @morganadorodo @kaitfae @kentply @scaranthropy @kyon-cherri @kookiibun @kochothehoe @mekiiiii @ibyobi @iuspired @tetsuskei @kunikuzushis-darling @morgyyyyyyy @chluuvr @scaradooche @kissmiere @a1-ic3 @bubblegum-angelquartz @tiredjxnna @levlucs-kiru @angeilix @cerisescherries @saeskiss @a-talkative-corn @briluvspnk @kamisatoyato @bbysatoruuu @viviixoxosblog @bambisz @chemiru @eternal-dokja @bflyprincess @jamieexistss @monocerosei @enjisthings @jangyung @hahalame @cupid-spams @snzhrchy @ukinya @luciledreamz @bisatanica @bananasquash @almond-t0fu @thegalaxyisunfolding @jaguarthecat [1/2]
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lettre-romantiques · 12 hours ago
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5#-> 💌: a letter has arrived from satoru gojo.
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dear y/n.
heyy cutie.. i hope you like the gifts i got you. i know this isn’t the easiest way to communicate, but it's the only way right now. things have gotten.. complicated. i don't have much time to spare.
i’m writing this quickly and short, because things are moving fast, and i need to make sure you understand what’s going on. things are about to get messy, i know it, so i’m doing what i can to keep it all from falling apart.
the whole thing with the transport barrier and the crowd of civilians, none of that was going to be easy. but i didn’t.. fully expect this. i mean.. i did, but you know what i mean. i didn’t expect the king of cursed spirits to come together like this, or for the sheer fucking chaos that would unfold once sukuna was set loose.
and if anyone is going to deal with him, it’s got to be me. it always had to be me.
i’m doing this because it’s necessary, because i need to, and if anyone is going to deal with him, it’s got to be me. it always be me. you’ll understand when the time comes. hopefully the students will explain.
i know you’ve always believed in me, hell, i’ve built my whole persona around being the unbeatable, invincible sorcerer. but i’ve learned something over the years: no matter how strong you are, no matter how much you try to control everything around you, there are things that will always get away from you. and i’ve come to terms with the fact that sukuna isn’t someone i can just 'neutralize' in the usual way. this time, it’s different. this fight’s different. and if I’m being honest, part of me knew that from the very beginning.
i’m sorry for the things i never told you. i’m sorry for the times i acted like everything was a joke, like i was invincible and nothing could hurt me. i didn’t want you to see how often i was just faking it, pretending like i had all the answers. the truth is, there were moments where i was terrified. terrified of the responsibility, terrified of what would happen if i ever failed. so i did what i always do, i covered it with jokes, with ridiculous stunts, and by being 'the strongest.' it was easier that way, wasn’t it? easier for me, easier for everyone else.
but i guess that’s where i was wrong. you deserved more than that. you deserved to see all the versions of me. so, for all the times i let you down, for all the times i acted like i wasn’t just as scared and confused as anyone else.. i’m sorry. really, i am.
the truth is, i’ve never really had a plan for how to handle all this. the higher-ups wanted me to handle everything, like I was some kind of god who could solve all their problems. but i’ve always known the world’s broken, y/n. it’s always been broken. and now, it’s my turn to do something about it. even if i don’t come back from this, at least i’ll know i gave it everything i had.
sukuna isn’t just some 'big bad guy' for me to beat. he’s the only thing standing in the way of everything. i can’t just let him continue. i can’t let him tear down what little everyone managed to hold down together. and if that means putting myself on the line.. then so be it. it’s what i have to do.
i don’t expect you to understand fully, but i need you to know this: if something happens, if i don’t make it back, just know that i’m okay with it. this was always the risk. i’ve always known that. but i want you to keep going. i want you to keep fighting. you’ve got the strength to carry on. i wouldn’t have left if I didn’t believe that, you already know that baby.
so, if something happens to me, if i don’t come back, please, don’t let it break you. keep going. keep fighting. and don’t forget that i did what i know was the best choice. i don’t have regrets about the choices i made. i just regret that it had to end this way.
i don’t know how to say goodbye, and i don’t want to. but whenever this is it, i need you to know that i love you more than i ever thought i could, i didn't really think i could love anyone after suguru. you were my greatest love. and i’m sorry i never got to say that to your face one last time.
anyways, i’m rambling now. just know this.. if i don’t make it back, i’m grateful for every second we had, for everything. you’ve meant more to me than you know.
from, your glorious blue eyed king.
p.s. take care of yourself. keep your head up. and don’t forget baby, i was the strongest. and i hope your heart will be the strongest to stomach all this.
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justhereforsomethingnice · 2 days ago
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“Great, welcome mr. Wayne.” Danny sighed when a man who introduced himself as Bruce Wayne entered the shop. “So happy you could make it. I’m Danny, I’ll be doing your reading today.” God, one ounce of energy less in his words and he wouldn’t be only dead on the inside anymore.
The man beamed at him. “Amazing to meet you Danny. Say, I’ve never seen you here before, are you new?” The man asked jovially.
Danny grimaced. “Yep, now please follow me.” He was going to get so nauseas from those damn fumes back there, he just knows it. With how shit had been going, he’s going to throw up that one sip of milkshake he managed before yesterdays disaster on those fancy ass shoes. And that man couldn’t stop smiling and touching every damn little trinket on his way to the back.
“And what is this,” Wayne asked holding up a shiny trinket, immediately dropping it and picking up the next one, “fascinating, and this? Is this a spell book, how peculiar.” Danny was going to add another shade to the collection here.
He finally reached the room. “Sit down over there please mr. Wayne. Now, what exactly did you want to achieve when coming here?” He asked. The only thing miss. Claire told him to actually do before the reading.
The man actually seemed to become bashful at that, a bit nervous. He wrung his hands before rubbing one of his hands over the opposite wrist. “I was actually hoping to talk to some resently deceased people. A friend of mine died and but was very fond of this shop you see.”
Danny held in the sigh. Great, it was most likely the woman with the pearls floating behind him. “Let me guess, lady, dark hair, nice pearly necklace.”
The man seemed caught of guard for just a second before becoming it seemed angry. Or just very very sad. “See here young man, I will -,”
“Yeah yeah, save it.” Was he being an ass? Yes. Did this man deserve it? Most likely not. Did he care? No. He just spend the entire night trying to find shelter for the rain just for it to either crumble, leak anyways or in one kinda memorable occasion, blow up. So no, he did not care that he hurt some Vlad’s 2.0 feelings. The woman eagerly began speaking so he just repeated what she said. “Great, so she wants you to not let the Matt hatter ruin Alice in wonderland for you?” Danny looked at the lady like she had gone crazy. “Really, that’s what you’re starting with? Anyways.” He sighed.
The man had become silent at that. “Also, we I ask Alfie?” He looked at the spirit lady who nodded enthusiastically. “Give you the book he wrote named ‘how to navigate social situations: a step by step guide’ and use it to finally have a good talk with her grandson.” Okay, so rich dude had family issues. None of his business. “And, in her words, ‘chance the time on the grandfather clock, this is just getting depressing’ whatever that means.” The man was just silently staring at him now.
Another ghost tapped the lady on the shoulder before he turned to Danny too. “And great, another one joined.” They linked hands. “So it’s a date now, great.” He grumbled more to himself. So it was two friends who died and not just one. Okay, he could deal with that. “He says that they will always love you no matter what.” So it was a lovers affair instead of just friends? “And that the name you’re looking for is Edward Colson? Sheesh, was this a murder or something.” The two were getting more exited and talking his ears off.
“One at a time please.” He glared to mr. Wayne’s left. The man glancing behind him, predictably seeing nothing. “Anyways, was that what you came for? Or do you need anything else?” The man seemed to have actual tears in his eyes.
“You can see my parents?” Danny snapped his eyes to the two who looked sadly at their apparently son. Well, that explained the fashion choice. Also, that was almost worse then a love affair murder case.
Danny just stared at the man and didn’t really know what to say. He was translating this guys dead moms words to him. Ancients, he was an asshole. Stupid, idiotic, moronic move Fenton. Great, how to cut this off as soon as possible. “Only for a while. The power in this room will fade in a bit.” The man was a totally different person now. Danny hesitated. “Do you want to say anything to them?”
He thinks he had much more tact just now than in the past 10 minutes. “I’m sorry.” The two ghost seemed to decent on the man. Cooing at him, telling him he was not at fault, that he couldn’t know, couldn’t have done anything, was only a child when it happened.
“Ah screw it.” Danny said before making just the tip of his finger invisible. That should contain the spirits becoming visible in the area, right? He was still debating wether this was a mistake or not while the spirits of Martha and Thomas Wayne became visible to their sons eyes. Ancients he needs Jazz.
I’m a Size Medium, Thanks.
Danny is irritated. No actually he is beyond irritated. He is annoyed, he is frustrated, he is…. He’s really fricking irritated and can’t be bothered to remember any more of Jazz’s SAT words.
He continues his glare out the window as he searches for his straw with his mouth.
He just- where is it- thinks it’s a stupid fricking-stupid ass milkshake-he shouldn’t have to basically-gah! Danny snaps his head down to find his suddenly missing straw, only to successfully poke it directly into his eye.
“Ow! Fricken-“ He groans, throwing his head back, and putting his hands to his face, “Mother-tucker, Holy Taming of A Shrew!” He pounds his free hand not cradling his eye on the table, trying not to make more of a scene. Of course, this utterly fails because it immediately tips over his milkshake glass with a clatter as it spills onto his pants, making him jump up with enough force to knock the table over and drop the milkshake glass the rest of the way to the floor.
Danny stares at it with blurry vision and a watery eye. He sighs, “At least-“
The glass shatters.
Danny sighs again, deeper. “Of course.”
He looks up at the restaurant around him. Noticing the many, many people staring at him.
Wonderful.
Danny grimaces, “Sorry, I so didn’t mean for that to happen, uh-“ Danny reaches to straighten the table, fumbling for a second before it stands upright, he steps away from it, “If there’s any way I can help or.. like fix it. I can pay for the cup..” a server comes over to him, “if you want..?”
The server’s dead eyes don’t waver as they silently place a wet floor sign over the spilled milkshake.
“Thanks.”
“Uh huh.”
The server walks away, leaving Danny to sigh all on his own. He leans over to grab his backpack from the booth, checking it over for milkshake before slinging it on his back, thankfully clean.
He makes it one step forward before he feels the floor go out from under him. Ah gravity. His greatest enemy. This is karma for all those times he’s ignored it, isn’t it?
The wind is knocked out of him when his back slams to the floor, cushioned by the dulcet sounds of his bag crunching against broken glass.
He looks up at the wet floor sign.
The man on the yellow plastic mocks him.
Danny sighs.
He curses his stupid luck.
He curses this stupid city.
Then he curses himself because he knows any of this stupid city’s curses end up affecting him anyways.
Danny gets to his feet, ignoring the feeling of milkshake on his hands and his… everywhere.
He trudges out of the diner without looking back. At least he’d already paid for it.
He grimaces at the milkshake handprint on the door, trying to wipe it away with his shirt and only succeeding in making it worse.
Danny catches the eyes of the server inside, staring at him, eyes progressively more annoyed.
Danny puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.
Directly into a person. Only his milkshake covered self prevents him from being hit with anything more than the man’s scathing glare.
He puts his hands back up and moves away to dodge everybody else on the sidewalk. Along with the occasional ghost. Visible only to him of course.
By the time he has managed to escape the sidewalks into an alley, he is certain there is a trail of slightly sticky businessmen behind him.
Danny crouches to swing his backpack down in front of him and take stock. Okay, he could put his sweatshirt on over it… but it would also get ruined… damn it.
Danny looks around, checking every inch of the alley for cameras and then backing himself into a corner just to be safe. The flicker of intangibility is barely noticeable except for the wet squelch of milkshake remnants dropping to the alley floor. Lovely.
And of course, the flash of every single Gotham ghost in the area becoming visible and almost tangible for a split second. Also… lovely. There’s a couple startled shouts on the street.
Maybe an alleyway was not the best place for that.
Danny slides his sweatshirt on over his shirt to at least pretend like he was covering a mess and then shimmies out of the alley while trying to make as little contact with ghosts as possible.
He’s almost completely certain he looks crazy as all get out if the stare he gets from a passerby means anything.
Of course… now he’s left glaring across the street again.
He can feel the Infini-Map burning a hole in his backpack. It said this was the next place a natural portal would open and get him back home.
It just didn’t say… when that portal would open.
But of course, it’ll be right in the middle of somebody’s store. Usually not an issue. Except again, this stupid city’s curses are attracted to his energy, so of course the store couldn’t be literally ANYTHING ELSE!
Danny glares at the stupid fricking sign and the stupid predictable pun and the stupid neon hand in the front window waving at him.
‘The Claire Witch Project: psychic, medium, and Claire-voyant’
Danny is on day three of simultaneously avoiding the entire building while remaining close enough he can be there when the portal forms.
He is dirty, tired, and running out of money. In short, Danny is starting to lose hope on this endeavor.
The worst part?
He has the perfect solution.
There’s a pathetic little piece of printer paper taped to the inside of the window.
‘Help wanted’
When he’d first gotten here, Danny had followed the infini-map all the way to this horrific city, seen the sign, and turned a quick 180. He’d rather die again thanks.
He’d smacked into two billboards just coming into the city, and there was literally no stars, why would he want to stay here till the portal opened when he could just find another?
Except.. Danny’s eye twitches dangerously as he thinks back on it- except there wasn’t another portal. This was it. For the foreseeable future, he either caught this portal or was stranded for whoever knows how much longer.
Danny sighs again and dreads his continued existence. He looks both ways on the street, takes a step forward, nearly gets run over, steps back, and turns for the nearest crosswalk.
Fine. He could follow rules if it meant increasing his chances of leaving.
He tries to hold in the sigh this time, he really does, he swears.
Not the one before he opens the shop door though, that sigh deserved freedom from his trials. It joins the myriad of whispy translucent shades lingering in the store. Because of course there was just enough spiritual energy in here for them to be visible to him.
“Hey there!” A girl in loose fitting colorful clothing appears from behind a corner, “I’m Claire! How can I help your life journey today?” He can see the way her bulky crystal hair accessories sway with her movements. What was he getting into here again?
Danny tries to ignore the incense shoving itself up his nose as he speaks, “Hey, I was…” He was really doing this huh? “Hoping that the help wanted position is still available?”
The girl looks him over as she moves to the back of the checkout counter. The clear observation makes him nervous, and he takes his hands out of his pockets to try and look marginally more… candidate-able.
“You have experience?”
“Sure d-“ He wants to throw up in his own mouth, ancients this is so cringe, just let him die, “Sure do!” He says through choked back vomit and false cheer, “I’m a…” -barf- “I’m a medium.”
“Oh don’t worry about that, you don’t need a uniform, I don’t need your size silly!”
Danny blinks. What? Also. What?
“Wait-I’m hired?”
Claire pauses from getting something from under the counter, “Didn’t I already say that?”
“Uh…” Danny’s eyes dart around the shop, “No?”
“Oh well, you are, you have the right vibes, don’t worry,” she slides a few papers onto the glass counter, and Danny is abruptly, horrifically reminded he has no legal documents to speak of here. He thinks. He hasn’t actually checked.
Crap.
“Of course, most of my clients pay in cash, so I’ll pay you in cash too just to make it easier, and any crystal sales I’ll just add to it. Sound good?”
“Sure?” Oh no, is this gonna be Danny’s first real job? “But I don’t know anything about crystals. I have a goth friend but she’s not into that stuff.”
Claire waves his comment away, “Oh no worries, I can leave a packet.”
Danny nods, “Thank- wait, sorry. Leave?”
Claire laughs, pulling out a bag from behind her counter, “Yes I leave for a trip in two days. Family things you know,”
Danny feels like his brain is being scrambled, “Oh, what, what happened? Is everything okay?”
Claire looks at him, blinking wide, “What? Why would anything have happened?”
“Because… you said, you were leaving for-“
“Just don’t want to get caught in a bad position, you know how it is.”
Some of the shades stir in the air, their misty movements twitching with agitation enough to draw his eye for a second.
“Right. Well I’m glad I came when I did then,” Danny says, because he still doesn’t want to be rude.
Claire smiles at him.
Danny pats his hands against his sides awkwardly, trying not to look up at the movement of the shades intertwined with incense smoke at the ceiling.
There’s a little jingle behind him, which he belatedly realizes is the door when Claire moves to greet them before he can even turn around.
“Ms. Jives! Wonderful to see you! How’s the goldfish?”
Ms. Jives turns out to be a slightly older woman, maybe early seventies with a cane but she looks good. The coffee brown hair is almost certainly a dye job but it frames her wrinkled face well.
“Oh Jim is lovely dear, much better this way, I bought him a new plant just the other day, he just loves it.”
“Good, here for your reading right?”
“I am! But you can finish up with your customer first if you need,” Ms. Jives says. Claire waves her concern away.
“No need, this is Danny, I just hired him, he has a similar mystical connection.”
“Oh that’s lovely,” Ms. Jives says as she passes by him, “Would you like to come with dear? Claire is going to do a reading for me.”
Danny grimaces, “Sure.”
In the end, by the time Ms. Jives makes it slowly to the back room, Danny is trying to think of where he’s gonna sleep tonight. He mostly zones out when Claire dims the lights and starts talking nonsense.
All he heard was “something something card, something something magician something reversed something something balance something something chihuahua.”
Ok, maybe he wasn’t listening. But he was trying to focus on not staring at the movement of the shades, and the incense was mega strong and Claire had some weird ass music playing. He’s almost certain she’s faking everything. Down to the atrociously bright bead earrings.
Danny sags when she finishes, all too happy to leave the weird little curtain covered room.
He stands in the front awkwardly while Ms. Jives pays, twiddling with the various crystals and trying to figure which ones are actually y’know.. mystical or whatever.
Answer? Surprisingly most of them. That he could tell, at least, but it’s not like he actually knows how to sense that out on purpose. He’s pretty sure a couple of the heart shaped rose quartzes are complete duds but what does he care.
He’s thoroughly bored by the time Claire calls him back over. Apparently to tell him that he’ll do a reading tomorrow.
“Tomorrow?!” Danny blurts, “Don’t you want to like- I don’t know, make sure I can- or like.. I don’t know, but tomorrow?”
Claire just smiles at him, “I believe you can handle it, trust me.”
‘Trust you? Lady, I just met you and you’ve been nothing but crazy the whole time!’ Danny wants to say, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and nods with what he’s sure is fear in his eyes.
Then she’s pressing something into his hands and when he looks down it’s a key. A key. There’s no way-
“So be here 9am sharp, Danny! You can open up and I’ll come in later!” Claire starts pushing him towards the door, “And Mr. Wayne should be waiting for you when you get here!”
Danny turns around to catch himself in the doorframe, “Mr who will be what now!? Wait, Ms. Claire, Ma’am- why-!” He stops to lower his volume and ask politely, “Why am I doing this? You don’t even know me,” Danny says, one leg still in the store.
Claire smiles, “Because the universe told me to silly! See you tomorrow! Here’s my number!” Then she slaps a sticky note to his chest with enough finality that Danny takes a step back. The door closes with a click and ring of the bell inside.
Danny stares at the door with his eye twitching for at least a minute.
What the hell did ‘the universe told me to’ even mean, you kook!?
Danny sighs and looks down at the sticky note, quickly inputting the number in his phone before something happens to it.
He’s barely hit save when he finally steps away from the shop front and…. is immediately drenched to the bone.
Because apparently it’d been pouring rain and he simply hadn’t noticed from under the awning.
He watches as blue ink slides off the sticky note in little sad face streaks.
Danny sighs.
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zukkaoru · 8 months ago
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fyozai + pet names is like.. dazai calls fyodor the most obnoxious cringe things known to man, and he stacks seven pet names on top of each other just to make it worse. meanwhile fyodor uses sophisticated, genuinely sweet things like dear or darling or russian terms of endearment. but 80% of the time what he really means is "i am on hour twelve of my fantasy where i poison you and then proceed to watch you writhe in agony and refuse to put you out of your misery and then eventually force the antidote in you just so you won't get the satisfaction of dying even after all that pain"
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hella1975 · 1 year ago
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you ever have a fic get you in such a chokehold you start pacing your room and talking to yourself
#THIS FIC WAS WRITTEN FOR ME SPECIFICALLY#BURN IT ALL DOWN BY DOROTHYCANFLY ON AO3 THIS IS GENUINELY ONE OF MY TOP 5 FICS OF ALL TIME EVER#IT'S GOT THE BEST DABI CHARACTERISATION IVE EVER COME ACROSS IT'S GOT REALLY WELL WRITTEN DABIHAWKS#THAT FITS BOTH OF THEM LIKE THEY'RE MEAN AS HELL ABOUT IT AT FIRST#IT'S GOT STUPIDLY DEVOTED TOUYA-SHOUTO IT'S GOT PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER TOUYA#IT'S GOT MENTAL ANGST WRITTEN LIKE A DREAM THE WRITING IN GENERAL IS INSANE#IT'S ACTION PACKED BUT DONE WELL SO THAT IT'S NOT TEDIOUS IT'S FUNNY IT'S GOT TWISTS#IT'S KEEPING ME ON MY TOES I NEVER KNOW WHAT'S COMING OR HOW FAR THE AUTHOR IS WILLING TO GO#IVE LITERALLY READ 300K WORDS IN TWO DAYS AT THIS POINT LIKE I AM ABSOLUTELY FINISHING THIS TONIGHT#WHAT THE FUCK EVEN AM I GONNA DO WITH MYSELF AFTER THIS#EVERY NEW THING THAT HAPPENS LITERALLY HAS ME GETTING UP TO PACE ABOUT#I CLOCKED OUT OF MY MUM TELLING ME OFF EARLIER BC I WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS FIC#DO U KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT IS BASO JUST SIGNED MY DEATH WARRANT BUT I DIDNT CARE#losing my goddamn mind respectfully <3 if anyone has read this pls yell with me about it#and if anyone knows mha and wants a fic rec PLEASE let it be this one it's my fav mha fic ever and ive read A LOT#it gets quite smutty in the middle but if that's not ur thing the author tws very well and u can kinda just scroll#so that u still get the important character developments without it being just pure smut lol#god this FIC. holding it in my fucking fist and squeezing the everloving life out of it im going INSANE#i cant remember the last time a fic got me this way im literally giggling about it all#HE FOUND A REASON TO LIVE AGAIN THEY TOOK THIS MANGLED BLOODY BOY AND SAID WE LOVE YOU#YOU ARE GOOD YOU CAN STAY YOU CAN REST NOW WE'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU AND HE CHOSE THEM! HE CHOSE THEM!#OVER HIS REVENGE AND HIS RAGE HE CHOSE THEM! IM GOING TO BE VIOLENTLY SICK#like the author LETS DABI BE A CUNT. the first chunk of the fic he's actively not a good person#and his coping mechanisms are shot to shit and we WATCH HIM GROW FROM THAT i have cried several times over the most mundane shit#goddddddddDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDAKSJFJKAGSFIUAHGJKAKG#mha#fic rec
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mirrorcatcreditcard · 2 hours ago
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I really like all the theories here and mostly agree, but I'd like to raise you another one to add.
Throughout Alien Stage, we've seen the ones in love speak of the one they love as their god or a celestial body. It's pure poetry to speak of how loving someone makes them become so dear and high to you that you, in a way, worship them and would do anything for their happiness and provision, how the greatness of a distant star/sun or planet in space is so grand and admirable.
"Ruler of My Heart" was a song dedicated to Hyun-A. He wants Hyun-A to love him like that. He wants to be her #1 everything because the only form of love/care/protection he knows is control. Multiple times he claims her as his or asks her to be his. That is the society/mentality he grew up with.
Hyun-A means everything to Luka (that or she's second to his perfectionism, which I believe stems from having her slip out of his hands as well as the things she's said to him concerning the love she has of singing, so ultimately she is the everything). Eternally beautiful she is to him. No matter how many years pass, she is the one he holds dearest (and he's been possessive of her for decades). In the song, he speaks of that and more. When he looks into her eyes, he sees the whole world because she is his entire world. He tells her to let him take it all away. He wants to hold her fears and pains and worries, and it comes out as wanting to control it/take it away because that's a very core thing with him. So why, if he wants to be the god and have all the control, does he call her the ruler of his heart? Because everything him revolves around anything he can get of her. (Side note: the second lyrics I can make many theories on, but that's not the point of this reply/the original post so I won't.)
To the aliens he sings before, the song may seem like an elegant proposal that is sure to make a fan base go wild. He is trying to be a god, larger than life as you say, and is confirmed to mask heavily on an almost 24/7 basis. Religious/otherworldly symbolism and he are not lost on me. He's an angel, a "Prince" among humans and loved for the glow he excludes, nobody meant to ever suspect it is all an act.
But Luka is also a blank slate and the tinted glass you speak of. Idols are often used as a projection of someone's desires. You're not far off for pointing it out, and it's a point I don't see very often in the fandom. He is like a filter to see what you want or need to see (which further connects to the savior/god symbolism I've been slavering over for weeks). So pretty and superficial and pleasing...but the tinted glass didn't ask to be this way or choose it's colors. It's like this because that's how the ones around it created it to be said it needed to be. It breaks and becomes nothing more than a splinter hazard when they chose to have it so. Of course it will do its best to glitter and shine bright. Of course it will be the most beautiful glass around. The moment something a prettier color appears, it may be broken/removed and replaced.
A few Luka thoughts because I'm insane
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The reason so many characters see their lovers and those they miss in Luka is for two reasons. 1. He tries to be the idol, someone's god, something larger than life outside of the cage for his illusion of freedom. It's all a desperate attempt to conceal the fact he has a god himself and is just as vulnerable as any mortal, as any human who has the potential to feel. (Part of my thoughts on how Ruler of My Heart reflects Luka, which I'll probably reflect on later, albeit it's primarily because of the infamous line "Make me your god--I can give you everything!") The divinity he manifests reminds those of who they worshipped in their tumultuous mind and brings them a feigned promise of salvation.
OR, MORE LIKELY;
2. Luka is a blank slate. He is whatever they tell him to be, he is what he is required to be and nothing more. That's why his aesthetic is merely the picture of elegance and nothing more, just pure white and gold. Blank. Nothing, no emotion, only what you want to see. Just what you wish you see. It's all a game, he does what is needed to survive. While I'm not a believer in the idea that Luka did that weird hallucinations thing in Round 5 on purpose, I'm mostly definitely a believer in the idea that that's just the effect Luka has on people. He's PERFECTION. Perfection how you want it, when you want it.
Luka is like iridescent or tinted glass. The light he projects changes from your perspective, as to what it needs to be to abide by the laws of light and physics. However, it's distinctively a bit different from the light that enters, namely a bit shinier and prettier. But you don't care because it's pretty, after all. But at the end of the day, i's thin glass with only a little change to it. It can be shattered at any moment and can only shine with light. But it's pretty, right?
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mostly-imagines · 6 months ago
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There’s A String Tied to My Lower Left Rib, Third From The Bottom
dick grayson x afab!reader
aka the professional boyfriend
warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader wears dresses, sexual content at the end (18+)
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Dick Grayson is a vigilante. He’s a master martial artist and gymnast. He’s something of a playboy and a heavy flirt. But the claim he really takes pride in is that he’s basically a professional boyfriend. That he’s your professional boyfriend.
And pride really is the right word. He’s so proud that he gets to have this pretty girl on his arm and buy her pretty things even when you insist you have enough. He loves getting to help you take your makeup off when you’re too tired and make you laugh like it’s his job. He’s absolutely gratified that he gets to be your prodigal, sweet boyfriend that, despite your protests, insisted on carrying all five of your shopping bags for you.
You step over an uneven stretch in the sidewalk and lean slightly against Dick’s shoulder. “I’m worried the navy one is too…much.” You say, thinking back to how the blue cocktail dress fit on you, how it stopped barely below your ass.
He furrows his eyebrows with a pout, “Too much?”
You look over at him, matching his expression. “It’s really short. I mean it’s cute and I like it, but…I don’t know, this is kind of a fancy event isn’t it?” 
He puckers his lips, shaking his head. “Short’s good. I like short.” Yeah, you’d noticed with the way his eyes had been glued to the hem of your dress, willing it to slip up just a little more.
You laugh, “And I’m sure you and all the old businessmen will appreciate it greatly.”
His face drops at that, not thrilled at the prospect of those, usually very sleazy, old men getting to see so much of you. “The black one’s good too.”
You peer over into one of the bags, “Or there’s the red one with the—”
Dick shakes his head quickly, “Not red.”
You snicker at that, knowing full well what his problem is with it. “Then why did I get it?”
“Just for me.” He pauses, “Or for something my brother won’t be at.” He mumbles, scanning both sides of the street. He shuffles the bags in his right hand onto his forearm so he can take your hand in his as you step into the road. “No, the black one looked great on you. And we won’t have to go searching for a matching tie.” 
Once you reach the other side he lets go of your hand and he circles behind you, nudging you over to the inside of the sidewalk.
You glance down at the row of bags littering his arms and the red indents beginning to mark his skin. “Will you please let me hold some?” You frown.
“Will you please hold my hand?” He echoes, matching your serious tone with faux urgency of his own. You deadpan him but take his hand anyway. You don’t notice it, but he’s got a dedicated gaze focused on your fingers intertwined in his.
You continue on down the street, hand in hand, the warm sun shining on your necks. You pick up the pace a bit as you approach your apartment building, aiming to get the door for your boyfriend. You reach for the handle only for Dick to call out, “Don’t touch that!” followed by him clamoring like you’re about to touch a hot coal, rushing over to beat you to the punch.
“Oh my god..” you mumble to yourself, biting back a smile. The bags haphazardly fall further down his arms, no doubt uncomfortably as he pulls the door open for you, pretending to be far more eloquent than he actually was. He gestures you in and smiles sweetly at you when you give him a flat look. 
“What is wrong with you?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him with amusement glittering across your face as you dig for your keys.
“Not a thing.” He grins, watching with adoration as you open the apartment door. Frankly, you’re surprised he didn’t attempt to juggle the bags and unlock the door himself.
He kicks the door shut behind him as you help slide the bags off of his wrists, piling them on the counter. “When do we need to leave?”
“Uh…” he glances at the wall clock, “Not till seven.” He places his hands nicely on your waist, looking down at your lips. “You wanna get something to eat before we go?”
You muse, “This is the one with those mini stakes, isn’t it?” He nods. “No, I wanna get my fill on those. Oh, and the bruschettas! I love these caterers.”
His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a sly smile playing on his lips. 
You break away from his gaze and turn to the counter, preparing to scoop the shopping bags up when you’re interrupted by his relentless fervor.
“Ah, ah.” He hooks a finger into the loop of your jeans, tugging you back to him. “Give me a kiss.” 
“Dick.”
“Just one.” Yeah, right. You oblige him though, pushing up on your toes to meet his lips. His thumb strokes your cheek as he kisses you deeply. You break the kiss after a moment only for him to chase your lips to follow it up with another. And then another. And another. He hums against your lips, smiling wide. “Thank you, baby.”
You pull back again and smile as you stop his chest with your hand when he follows. “Ah, I’m not new around here. I know where this’ll go if I let you.”
He nods complaisantly, “Then let me.” His eyes are focused on the small space between you, where his touch lingers along your ring finger. You lean up again and place a kiss on his forehead that has him getting hopeful, only to be met with disappointment when you back away from him, bags in hand. He throws his head back with a groan just to really hammer home the severity of his dismay.  
It doesn’t last too long though because the second you’re back in the room he’s trailing after you like a puppy, following you down to the couch. You roll your eyes at him when he opts to sit ridiculously close to you, though there’s a ghost of a smile on your lips that makes your act lose all credibility.   
He nestles his face into the crook of your neck and is clearly very pleased when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You exhale contentedly, resting your cheek against his head. You lie idle like that for a few minutes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and casting a daydreaming gaze out the window. And apparently, he was daydreaming too. 
“I wanna marry you.” He murmurs into your neck after a while. 
You laugh incredulously, “Have you been drinking when I have my back turned?”
“‘M serious.” He nudges you off him so he can look at you.
You hum, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. “You’re being very…” you scrunch up your mouth to the side, “…Ostentatious today.” 
He barks out a laugh, “Wow. Word-A-Day teach you that one?”
You shove at his forehead back with no real force, biting back a giggle. His eyes flicker back and forth between your mouth and the crinkle in your eyes as he grins. “I’m going to let that one go because you got me some really nice clothes today. As your repayment.” you say, running your finger over his lips. 
He takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it. “Let me marry you?” 
You sigh bashfully, “Dick—”
“Please?” He sticks his bottom lip out and gives you his puppy eyes, causing you to avert your gaze quickly. You’re not convinced he doesn’t have a superpower in that area.
You know he’s not really proposing right now, he’s too much of a romantic to do it like this. He’s just getting the idea in your head, getting you excited about it. It’s working.
“I’d be such a good husband to you.” He kisses your collarbone, “So good.” He murmurs against your skin, lips never departing. You struggle to keep your face neutral, making a point of closing your eyes in an attempt to increase your odds of success. He’s being nice though, you know. To let you play pretend right now when you know he could break your facade in a second if he really wanted to.  
“Mrs. Grayson…” he squeezes your hips, lips traveling further down. “Doesn’t that sound pretty?”
It really does. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marrying him before. He’s nothing if not husband material and honestly you really really want to hear him call you his wife. Call him your husband.
Your hand moves to his hair, petting it softly as he goes on. “Buy you a nice ring. Pretty white dress ‘n a big party just for you.” He brushes your shirt up and trails open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Your chest feels warm and you can feel your pulse thrumming all throughout your body.
He slowly guides your underwear down your thighs, his lips following the hem close behind. “Come home to you every night, kiss these pretty thighs,” He scoops both of your hands up in one of his, pinning them to your stomach. “Kiss this pretty pussy.” He places a chaste kiss on your clit and looks up at you expectantly.
You’re not nearly as hesitant on this as you’re pretending to be, and you both know it. But he’s perfectly fine with begging a little while you pretend you’re not lightheaded at the idea of marrying him. “I’ll think about it…” 
He grins at you before going in on your core without mercy.
He’s trying real hard to land that promotion.
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🩵 reblogging = supporting; likes don’t do the job 🩵
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lxnarphase · 7 months ago
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━━ ❝ GOOD MORNING, BABY !! ❞
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☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + f. toji + k. choso + t. fumihiko
☾₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, mommy kink, breeding kink, satoru and toji are just filthy, choso is so cute and needy, kento is the sweetest husband, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
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who does it to tease you ↴
✧ g. satoru ; satoru tries to wake you up, but you just don't want to. and by try, he means he blew into your ear just for you to huff and smack him away, grumbling to let you sleep or you'd bite him. ohh, you are so cute, he just really can't help himself
“look at my pretty girl, such a mess…tsk, wish she'd wake up, now i gotta fuck her soft, pretty thighs instead of that pretty lil' pussy." “aww, your pussy 's so noisy! listen t' her...she's all wet, she's cryin' f'me to fuck her, isn't she? aww, poor thing...” “ooh, are you cumming, baby? cumming in your sleep like a slutty little girl while I fuck your thighs, so precious…”
✧ g. suguru ; suguru's hands move up and down your soft curves while he grinds against your thighs, quiet, sticky noises sounding in the room. you're so adorable, he wants to shake you awake but teasing you with his thick cock nudging against your clit is so much more fun
“you’ve always been so responsive, i didn’t think my dick between your thighs would get you like this, princess.” “oh? was that my name? don’t tell me you’re having a wet dream about me. so dirty, baby, thinking of me like that while sleeping when I’m right here with you.” “don’t you wanna wake up and move my cock somewhere other than your thighs? c'mon, princess, wake up for me.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ k. choso ; not outright fucking you is painful, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He’s so fucking hard, that dream affected him more than he thought, and before he knew it, he was fucking your thighs, not caring how loud he was being.
“baby, baby, fuck, hoohmygodd, please! need y'so bad, so fuckin' soft, so soft, fuck, could d' this to you all the time, never wanna stop, p-please, god, 'm gonna cum all over you-!” “sticky fuckin' p-pussy's beggin' me t' fuck it, b-but wanna see you look at me. c'mon, c-c'monnn, please wake up, let me stick it in, o-or 'm gonna waste it a-and cum all over your cunt.” “oh, mmh, ’m cumming, ’m cumming, baby, i-i’ll clean y' up after, g'nna fuck you again 'n' again 'n' againnn, fuck, ’m cumming-!”
✧ t. fumihiko ; poor thing, fumihiko honestly tries to deal with it by himself, trying to just jerk off in the bathroom, but it doesn't work. he knew what he needed, he needed you, needed to touch and feel you around him. with shaky hands holding your thighs, he slides his aching cock between your thighs, moaning so cutely…and when you wake up and start cooing to him, he absolutely loses himself.
“i’m-i’m gonna mess you up so bad, been wantin’ to leave you a mess for so long, so fucking long, 'm g-gonna cum all over your pretty thighs. 's okay, right? right? mmh, okay, 'm gonna do it, 'm gonna cum on 'em.” “y-yeah, yeah, fuck, your thighs are so soft, feel so good around my cock, gonna cum all over them, m-ma'am.” “'s so much cum, i can’t stop cumming, m-mommy, ’m losing my mind, love your thighs, they're so soft, s' soft, thank you, thank you, thank you-!”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ f. toji ; it’s not uncommon for toji to wake up in the middle of the night, cock hard in his sweats. can you blame the guy when he's sleeping next to the sexiest woman he's ever laid his eyes on. he thanks whatever god there is for giving him a wife like you who lets him fuck your soft thighs until you wake up up so he can stuff you full of cum instead of wasting it on your stomach.
“’s time to wake up, mama, don’ ya wan' me t' fuck your needy cunt 'stead of these pretty thighs?” “aw, y'look soooo cute and dumb right now…my pretty thing. c'mon, spread those legs for me, mama, toji's gonna take care of ya.” “did y' dream 'bout me fucking your thighs? yeah? mm, you’re takin' my cock like you wanted me t' fuck you awake…hm? you want that next time? mm, i’ll keep it in mind, baby girl, now shut up and let me fuck you dumb.”
✧ n. kento ; he usually only does this when he’s very very frustrated from working, coming home to see his pretty baby in one of his button-ups sleeping, thighs out in the open. he can’t help himself, softly calling your name as he slides his hard cock slowly in and out between your thighs, giving you soft smile when you wake up.
“sorry to wake you, darling, I know it’s late, but I need you. you just...look so beautiful, i couldn't help himself.” “you were responding so cutely in your sleep…would you rather I be inside you? ask nicely, honey, and I’ll give you what you want. you know a good husband does whatever his wife asks.” “so, so pretty like this, i could fuck you for days. should i do that, my sweet girl? mm, maybe i should take tomorrow off and keep you in bed all take, make sure that my seed takes. what do you think, sweetheart, you want me to give you a baby?”
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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luveline · 5 months ago
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Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 
Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 
“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 
You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 
But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 
You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 
But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 
What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 
He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 
Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 
“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 
You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 
You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 
Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 
You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 
“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 
“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 
“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 
He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 
“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 
“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”
“No?” he asks. 
Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  
“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 
“Everything was fine.” 
He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 
He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 
Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 
“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 
“Nothing’s wrong.” 
“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 
“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 
“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 
You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 
He waits. “And?” 
“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 
“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 
“What?” 
“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 
“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 
“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”
“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”
“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 
You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 
“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 
He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 
“Can I have my dinner first?” 
“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 
He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 
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sugume · 10 months ago
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LESSONS IN CORRUPTION w/Gojo Satoru
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IN WHICH: Your teacher finally has his way with you at the end of senior year
( TW ): fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, mean and manipulative teacher!Gojo, Porn w/ no plot, corruption kink, power dynamics, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, size difference, breeding kink, blood, fingering, age gap (reader is 19, Gojo late 20's), Gojo secretly records, half edited
Word count - › 1.6K
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“You know I love you right?” Satoru asks, cupping your face. 
“I love you too.” You smile up at him as he fingers your pussy. 
“Loved you ever since I laid eyes on you—ever since you walked in my class with that short skirt and those white knee-high socks. My innocent schoolgirl.” He leans down to kiss you on the rose-covered hotel bed.  
It was your graduation party last week, but he said couldn’t make it to your party at your parent’s house, said he had an important meeting, and RSVP no to your parents’ invitation but when you asked them, they looked at you incredulously and asked why they’d send invitations to your teachers. When you went to school for your last week and told this to Gojo he said he did get an invitation and your parents told you that so you wouldn’t get upset that he couldn’t make it. 
“Gotta surprise for you though.” Gojo smiles up at you from his chair. You’re sitting on his desk, feet resting on the armrest of your teacher’s chair. Gojo can see your panty-clad pussy from his position under you, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows you’d be embarrassed if you knew he could see your Hello Kitty panties.  
“Really? What is it is!” You set your salad down so he could have your full attention, you know he doesn’t like it when you focus on anything else--even if it’s something as simple as food. You think it’s romantic how much he needs your full attention. 
“Well since I couldn’t come to your party, I figured I should throw you another party, this time just us. It could be our special party.” 
“Oh my god, really?” You throw yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His cologne engulfs you. 
“Mhm, and guess what? It’s gonna be a sleepover party at that new fancy hotel that just opened downtown. You excited Princess?” Gojo wraps his arms around your waist, discreetly rubbing his semi on your pussy. 
“Super-duper excited! When is it? Please say soon!” You cheer, innocently bouncing in his lap. Your pussy clenching when you feel his cock rub down the length of your damped cunt. You hope he doesn’t notice. 
“This weekend schoolgirl, your parents approved n’ everything.” He informs you, holding you down on his now rock-solid cock.  
He couldn’t wait for this weekend.  
“Really?” 
“Really, but they told me they want you to tell them you’re staying at your best friend’s house,” you open your mouth to question why but his grip on your waist tightens and he looks down at you angrily. “Don’t question us y/n, you know your parents and I know what we’re doing. Were the adults, you’re just a child, understand?” 
“Yes, Sir.” You nod, not wanting to upset him when he’s always so good to you.  
“Good girl, now finish your lunch sweetheart—no stay on my lap I make sure you eat it right.” 
Gojo glances at the nightstand, ensuring his phone is set up before he looks back at you. Rose petals underneath, nipples puckered, and eyes crossed you look like an angel. His angel. 
“Sir! I-it feels weird down there—I think I gotta pee.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers. 
“Just let it happen, princess,” He curls his fingers into your g-spot, his other hand going to rub your clit. Your legs start to shake, and you try to clamp them shut but Satoru’s thighs keep them in place. “Don't—That’s it, let go, let it happen.” 
You never knew what it was like to orgasm, Satoru has only told you what it would be like, but this—this—you could get used to the way your pussy contracts on your teacher’s fingers and your mind goes blank. 
Your hands fly down to his wrists once it’s over, suddenly overwhelmed. 
“S’too much ‘Toru, please no more!” You cry out, another mini orgasm washing over you.  
“Gotta prep you—get you wet enough for my cock sweet girl,” he takes his fingers out of your cunt, and your juices following in suit. “Think you’re ready?” 
“Mhm.” You look up at him like he hung the moon and stars. Right now, if he told you he did—you’d believe him. 
He brings his wet fingers to your mouth, and instinctively you open your mouth. He shoves them in. 
“Can’t wait to see this small pussy take a dick too big, too old for ‘er.” He groans at the thought, pulling his now clean fingers out of your mouth to pull his boxers off.  
You gasp when you see it jump out. It’s huge, the tip is an angry shade of red, and his balls look ready to explode any second. You don’t think with all the prep in the world you could take it. 
“It’s too big, Sir.” you whimper, shyly backing away from him.  
“Don’t run away from me y/n, how many lessons does it take for you to get ‘Don’t question your elders’ through that little brain of yours,” he pulls you back, slapping your pussy. “C’mon now, didn’t you say you loved me?” He pouts, looking down at you with puppy eyes. Your heart clenches. 
“Course I love you—I can take it. I promise.” You grab his face, the one you’ve spent the last semester admiring from afar, and kiss him the way he taught you. 
“Yea?” 
“Mhm.” You lay back down and wrap your legs around his hips. 
He grabs his cock, the head soaked with your juices, and slowly pushes it in. You gasp from the sudden intrusion. His fingers did nothing to prepare you for his girthy cock. He pulls out again before pushing in, this time a few more inches. He repeats this movement until you're filled to the brim. He looks down and chuckles. Only two-thirds of his cock is in your too-small pussy. Blood trickles out the side of your pussy. 
“Hurts.” You cry. He looks up to see thick tears flowing down your cheeks. 
He thinks about comforting you, but he can’t get his mind off your tight pussy. He’s too worried about not cumming prematurely than comforting you.  
“Shh, it’ll feel better soon honey, just lay there and take it.” He starts to move in and out of your cunt. Using your blood as extra lube. 
You claw at his back from the overwhelming feeling of your pussy being stretched. Satoru grunts above you, sucking hickeys all over your breast. After the ninth thrust, you start to moan, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. 
“Sir! Feels s’good.” You moan.  
“Your cunt feels surreal princess, never felt anything like this, think I might need to fuck my students more.” He says into your neck, speeding up when his balls start to clench and ache with the need to release. 
Suddenly, you’re overcome with a surge of jealousy, the thought of him fucking the other girls when you leave for college, teaching them how to kiss, and letting them sit on his lap and eat lunch every day makes you want to cry and scream and the same time. He’s yours! He doesn’t get to fuck anyone else, nobody else should be bleeding on his cock and cumming on his fingers.  
“S’not fair! You’re mine, only mine!” You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer to you, in you. 
“Then prove it little girl, show me that I belong to you.” He shoves his lips on your pouting ones. 
You throw your arms around his neck and buck into his hips, determined to show him that he only needs you. That you’re enough to satisfy all his needs. 
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum deep in this cunny. Gonna fill you up—watch you get full with my baby and have to drop out of college before you even finish the first semester!” His thrusts turn sloppy, bruising your swollen cunt. 
“Yes, give me your baby Sir, please!” You moan, suddenly thinking about a life with him and a baby you two 've created. You’ve never felt so empty. 
“Please, please, need ‘ur baby s’bad!” You slur, legs tightening around his waist. 
“‘M cummin’ schoolgirl, ‘m fucking my baby into your too-small cunt.” Satoru groans, his balls contracting as he shoots his load into your womb. 
The sensation of being filled causes you to orgasm again, the world going blank for a few seconds.  
“Shit!” Satoru lays over top of you, the weight of him making you wheeze. You lay there silently for a few minutes, unable to form a coherent thought. 
“W-was that good?” you question when your mind clears, thinking back to what he said about fucking other girls. 
“Of course it was princess, best I’ve ever had.” He reassures all the while his mind is racing, thinking ‘bout the new girl that just transferred to your school. He kisses you as he places a bet with himself ‘How long would it take to get her breed full of his child too.’ 
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navybrat817 · 1 month ago
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Vanilla Frosting
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Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky takes a call at home and you decide to tease him a bit.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, dirty thoughts, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you.
A/N: I blame these photos as they gave me CEO vibes. And @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer . Again, before our couple has Muffin and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“I thought you said no calls, Boss.”
Bucky sighed and rolled up his sleeves as he looked toward the kitchen. You stood in the doorway with crossed arms and slow building irritation in your eyes. The sight of you always lightened his mood and made his heart race, but that look wasn't a good sign. Oh, he was in trouble.
Some sort of trouble.
As a CEO, he was always prepared to take the fall when it came to his company. Seeing your kissable mouth set in a grim line though? “It’s Steve’s fault,” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.
“Really, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang out from the laptop speaker.
“Yeah, really,” he snapped. When Steve found a partner like you, he’d get why he bent his will to you over everyone else. Hell, he welcomed Steve getting a bit of payback because it would mean his best friend would have found happiness. “I’m sorry, Cupcake,” he added in a softer tone to you.
He didn’t want to take the call, he really didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you and forget about the stress of work for an evening. He even assured you that there would be no work tonight, but Steve insisted he get on a video chat with some of the executive team. God knew the punk was relentless, but the unimpressed look on your face made him want to fire everyone and start from scratch.
The two of you had plenty of money, so you’d be set if he went that route.
“Steve’s fault, huh?” You slowly smiled after a moment. “Okay. You take the call and I’ll start making some cupcakes.”
Bucky cocked his head with a confused stare as you went further into the kitchen and out of sight. Baking cupcakes wasn't out of the ordinary for you, but you saying “okay” wasn't okay. He knew better. There was no possible way he was off the hook for this. He already had at least ten gifts in mind to buy you once the call wrapped up.
“I love you,” he called after you, not at all ashamed for anyone to hear that as they joined the meeting. If anyone eyeballed him or said an unkind word about voicing his feelings for you outside of the office, they could find another job.
“Love you, too!” You called back.
That brought a small smile to his face. “Let’s get started so we can all get back to our regular evening plans,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
After a minute, he glanced over the monitor as he heard gentle movement in the kitchen. You weren't slamming things around, which was good. You understood how crazy things could get since you were his secretary. It didn't mean he enjoyed taking time away from the two of you and he didn’t want you upset with him. Even if you weren't upset, he still had to make it up to you. He-
“Hey, Bucky?” Your eyes lit up as you appeared in the doorway again with a small bowl. He was certain he forgot how to breathe when he eyed what you were wearing: a new black and white apron. And nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. “You want vanilla frosting for the cupcakes, right?”
Bucky subtly shifted in his seat as you sauntered further into the room, his throat dry at the sight of you. The curve of your hips, your hardened nipples teasing him through the fabric. Calling you beautiful wasn't enough. Your beauty was transcendent, indescribable. The kind that made the strongest of people drop to their knees. He was a powerful man, but still just a man at the end of the day and you rendered him powerless. And right now he needed to focus on the call, but how could he focus on anything but you?
He cleared his throat when Jack rambled on about something. Or was it John? Who gave a fuck? “Cupcake,” he growled.
“I know I do. Maybe you can frost me later?” You scooped a bit of frosting onto your finger and wrapped your lips around it with an obscene moan. Thankfully he had his microphone turned off. They didn't need to hear your pretty sounds. “Mmm.”
He groaned when you showed him your tongue. He knew it was frosting, but the image made it easy to picture you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock and showing him his release before you swallowed like a good girl. It took a lot of control not to palm himself. Surely everyone would understand if he ended the call now. Why the fuck did he take this call?
Making sure his hand was out of sight, he beckoned you closer with his finger. If he was lucky he could get you to take the apron off, sit in the nearby chair, and touch yourself. Or you could keep the apron on. As long as he could see your glistening pussy. Even looking wouldn't be enough. He had to get his mouth on it, his cock in it.
But you didn't go to him.
Instead, you tsked with the finger you licked and pointed at the laptop. “Oh, no, Boss. You listened to Steve and took the call. Now deal with the consequences,” you smiled sweetly, turning on your heel and giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walked back into the kitchen.
Yep, he was in big trouble.
Bucky's fists clenched as he got back to the task at hand, but he also chuckled. He deserved a bit of blue balls for the time being. He also had to respect the way you played the game, but he knew how to play the game, too. Before the night was over, he’d be back in your good graces. He’d eat one of your delicious cupcakes before he got a taste of you. And he'd remind you that he didn't have the world because of money, power, or any of that.
Bucky Barnes had the world because he had you.
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Oh, these two. 🥰 Steve isn't even upset for getting blamed. 🤣 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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6okuto · 4 months ago
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stop an angel from losing its wings
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akaashi x gn!reader | fluff. Not that serious. about men cutting their hair
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“do you think my hair’s getting too long?”
the knife in your hand stills halfway through a peach for your boyfriend.
keiji watches you, innocently, fiddling with the dark strands falling across his brow as your head snaps up, eyes locking onto the same bangs framing his face. “keiji akaashi, don’t you dare.”
“...what?”
“please, so help me god, if you cut your hair short i will cry.”
there’s a familiar click as the kettle turns itself off, hot water meant for his tea bubbling against glass.
“pft—”
“don’t laugh!”
“i’m not—” his chuckle is barely muffled by the hand over his mouth, and you gape.
the last time he cut his hair was maybe six months ago, and you’ve watched it slowly but surely reach a perfect length.
it lets you make little horns when you shampoo his hair as he holds you against him,
it looks stupidly good when he combs it back for special occasions,
it falls in his face just enough that it’s brought you the gift of keiji with his blue light glasses, cat slippers, and a little sprout ponytail on top of his head, tied with a little fruit hair tie, as he works away late into the night.
and he’s allowed to cut it. he is, but at the same time—
“this is serious! keiji, please- i’ll get on my knees and beg, look, please.” 
the apartment isn’t big; your spot in the kitchen is just a few meters away. it takes all but three seconds to leave the fruit you’ve cut for him and jog over with your arms wide open.
keiji holds his out to stop you. “what? no—”
“please, please, please, please, please,”—you dodge and slide to the floor, wrapping your arms around his legs—“please, my angel, my beautiful boyfriend, love of my life who i love so much, please—”
“i’m—” he snorts while you laugh between desperate pleas, muffled against the cotton of his pajamas, “i didn’t want to cut it, i was just wondering.”
and you sigh, loosen the grip around his pajamas, now slightly wrinkled. “oh thank god.”
keiji snickers and moves his hand to rest on your head. it travels down to hold your jaw, tilting your face to look at his. “is cutting my hair really that awful of an idea?”
you lean into his touch. “i mean, no, you look good no matter what. but they’re not joking when they say every time a boy with perfect hair cuts it too short an angel dies.”
he hums, his thumb rubbing against your cheek. “so are you the angel in this case?”
“am—” you almost parrot the question, caught in place by the amusement on his face. “shut up.”
“because if you’re the angel then i definitely can’t cut my hair.”
“oh my god.” the hair in question falls in front of his eyes again, and you take the opportunity to stand up while he fixes it. “whatever, i’m leaving, you nerd. go back to editing or whatever it is you do,” you huff with a smile and pinch to his cheek.
his soft laughter fills the room while you move to let him work, (swearing when you remember his tea you promised to make,)
but your leg is caught by one of his, and a hand is suddenly holding yours against his face.
keiji shoots you a smug smile, keeps you near just a little longer, just so he can say one more thing—
“okay, angel.”
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forgot i wrote this months ago. hey
🏷️| @pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv-rose @ur-local-simp @xaaavi @respitable @hasti-666 @deepenthevoid
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midwestprincesss · 6 months ago
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a/n: reposted this again cause for some reason the original one w the ask barely surfaced like. anyone .
contents: sub patrick my beloved, reader is a lil funny, patrick is #1 in the slut Olympics, finger sucking, p in v, more stuff. blah blah blah.
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patrick zweig is a whore.
if you look up "whore" online, a picture of patrick comes up. you told him that. he didn't take it well.
"i'm not a whore!" he protested. he didn't sound sure of it either, though. and the very obvious boner under his sweatpants spoke for itself.
"patrick, you're literally hard. i didn't even do anything" you deadpanned, staring him right in the eye.
he scoffed then took the pillow next to him and covered his growing erection with it. "you're wearing that shirt again. you know how i feel about it"
you looked down at your shirt. it was an " I ❤️ Art" top which you got at one of art's recent matches, as a joke. (but you really did love art though)
you laughed. "this shirt gets you hard? i mean, patrick, i know how you feel about art, but, a shirt that only mentions him? c'mon man"
"UGHH." patrick groaned as his face turned red. "it's the way the text stretches because of your tits, okay? fuck you."
"i don't know about you fucking me, but me, on the other hand, i'll be glad to do it" you smirked, proud of the little pun you just made.
patrick's hips bucked up into the pillow at that. "yes, please. god, just fuck me. i've been hard the whole day." he cried.
"you've been hard the whole day? how did you manage to actually get through the day without jerking off?" you joked, referencing, well, his slutty tendencies.
patrick blinked and looked around the room suspiciously. "i uh. i did. like two times." he admitted.
"WHAT?!" you screeched. "but- when the fuck?! i was with you like the whole day. except for when you went to the bathroom that one time"
"well. i jerked off then. once" he said.
"and the other time?" you asked.
"uh." he held back. "i uh, i came in my pants. just a few minutes ago when you called me a whore."
your eyes widened. "well then, i was right, wasn't i?"
"i guess so." he said, hips still bucking into the pillow.
"then i gotta treat you like a whore too." you said and took the pillow from his hands and threw it on the floor. immediately straddling his lap, you started making out with him. messily. he moaned into your mouth as you explored his with your tongue. he bit your lip and you pulled back, mouth open, pretending you're going in for more. only to pull back when his mouth chases your again. he moans again. this time, because of frustration.
"don't fucking tease me, i'm so hard, fuck. and i'm so wet, just take my boxers off. please. i'll let you do anything you want to me if you take them off." he pleaded.
you raised your eyebrow at him. "i can do anything i want to you, even if you don't let me." you giggled. "but just to be nice, i'll take them off."
and shit, he was right. his boxers were fucking drenched. of cum, thanks to the fact that he had came in his pants. like the slut he is.
"hey uh. you have a bit of boxers in your cum." you couldn't help but joke.
you grabbed his jaw, softly, and then slammed him back onto the pillow, right hand all over his face. then, as your fingers reached his mouth, he immediately parted his lips and took them in, sucking on them while holding eye contact. you let him have his fun for a couple of seconds, then tried removing them in order to take off his boxers. he didn't like that.
"put them back." he whined, as he took your two fingers and put them back in his mouth, pressing them against his tongue. "i can take my boxers off by myself."
his little high-pitched moans filled the room, all while not even being touched by you yet. he finally let go of your fingers with a loud pop.
you looked at his pretty dick resting on his stomach. he was really, really fucking big. girthy too. pink, wet tip with a brown-ish base, slightly curved to the left. just right to hit that one spot in your pussy you couldn't reach by yourself.
"please. please. please. pleas-" he started. only you cut him off. he did this often. repeating the world "please" until you sucked him off. or fucked him. or did anything, really. anything other than staring at him and not touching.
"shut it, zweig. i'll only fuck you if you convince me with your words, but you're not allowed to say please. if you say please, i'll leave you like this." you smile confidently at him. his dick was fucking twitching. thighs squeezing every now and then, even with you straddling him. he was doing everything in his power not to lose his shit and jerk himself off.
but he still put on that patrick zweig signature smirk. challenge accepted.
"i need you to fuck me until i can't speak coherently anymore. i need you to fuck me like if you don't do it, we'll both die. fuck me so hard that my eyes will roll to the back of my head for you. ride me until i start crying. just do it. i'm so hard it hurts. i need you-" he whimpered, trying to get his dick somehow closer to you.
and with that you took off your panties, and lined up your entrance with his dick. not sinking down on him yet.
"will you eat me out after this?" you ask.
" is that even a questi- OH FUCKK" he moaned, like someone straight from a pornographic movie. you started bouncing up and down on his cock, all while kissing and sucking at the skin of his neck, shoulders and chest. you went rough with him. but you knew that he was going to stay hard even after cumming the third time, so you didn't hold back at all.
after all, he was going to pay you back. considerably a good amount of times.
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xxxanteaterxxx · 4 months ago
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Misunderstandings
siriusblack x shy!reader
Summary: You mistake Sirius Black flirting with you as him making fun of you. Remus is determined to get you two together.
CW: Misunderstanding, Remus playing matchmaker, drinking, and partying. Fluff.
Is this bad? Please someone let me know.
Sirius Black was not someone that you knew personally. You had never even spoken to the handsome boy, and you weren't really planning too either.
His name was well known throughout the school. Whispers flying around about the group of boys that he ran around with. The Marauders and the pranks they played on unsuspecting victims.
You were friends with Remus, but that was the closest you got to the group of boys.
Almost every girl in the school was convinced that they were going to marry him. Not you though, you were more than content to sit back and steer very clear of the troublesome boy.
He had never noticed you and so you paid no mind to him.
That did not mean that you knew nothing about the boy, you had ears. The rumors were hard to ignore, but that was all they were. Rumors. Nothing important to let take up the precious space in your head.
Sirius Black hated libraries. They were too quiet and filled with people who enjoyed being quiet. He hated the quiet and he hated quiet people. So why was he here? Oh yes, because his friends were forcing him to work on an essay that was due the next week.
He was already bored, and he had only made it three steps into the library. His eyes roamed the different table, looking for his friends. His eyes scanned over your lonely form for a second before they drifted to the other tables.
When he still did not find his friends, he found his eyes drifting back over to you. You were slumped into a comfy looking chair and reading a book. You were obviously very engrossed into the words onto the page. His eyes scanned your face, and he noticed then that you were very pretty.
He barely had time to think about it before his feet were taking him towards the comfortable looking chair that sat beside yours.
You paid no mind to the person who had sat next to you, opting instead to turn the page and continue reading your muggle book. You had no homework to be working on and what better way to spend your time than reading one of your favorite books. Alice in Wonderland.
Then, the person next to you cleared their throat. You couldn't help the way your eyes flickered up to see who it was. He was already staring at you, your eyes snapped back down to your book. Was that Sirius Black?
Fear began coursing through your veins. Were you about to be prank, oh god, you were. You were just about to make a move and stand up when he started talking.
"So, how come I've never seen you before?" The question was innocent, and you really weren't sure if he was talking to you or someone behind you.
You waited for someone else to answer, really hoping that he was not talking to you. You knew that you were wrong when he sighed, and a hand reached over and snatched your beloved book away.
Your face heated miserably and there was already the pressure that sat horridly behind your eyes. A very obvious sign that you were about to cry. Your eyes flickered up to look at him.
"Um, I-I'm not sure why. We have classes together." You spoke back quietly, your eyes looking down to his lap where your book sat. It was closed and your place had been lost. Your throat felt tight.
"No, really?" Sirius paused, before a smirk grew on his lips. "I'm sure I would have noticed a pretty face like yours, love." He spoke again. Was he making fun of you? You couldn't tell, but your face grew even hotter at the thought.
Then you realized that he was making fun of you. You needed to get out of here. The room was beginning to blur and the next thing you knew, you were standing up and rushing out of the room. Your book forgotten and tears starting to stream down your face.
Sirius was left alone, holding a stupid book that he had no interest in. His friends had finally decided to show up, his mood was already soured.
"What the hell did you say to her, Pads? She looked like you'd kicked her cat." James was laughing at him; Sirius felt his mood sour even more.
He gripped the book he had taken from you and stood up, ready to follow his friends.
You had hoped he had left the book, going back a few hours later to search for it. You could have cried all over again when you realized that it wasn't.
Sirius Black was not used to rejection. It was a feeling he hated. So maybe that's why he couldn't stop thinking about you. It didn't help that he still had your stupid book either.
He had found himself thinking about you quite often. The way you were sat curled up, looking so small in that chair in the library. Or the way your eyes seemed to sparkle when you had looked up a him. Or the way you stuttered when had spoken to you.
He wasn't enamored with you by any means, because Sirius Black didn't have crushes. He didn't pine after people the way James did. He didn't do commitment. So, why were you occupying his thoughts. There was nothing special about you, besides the way you left him in the library without a second glance.
He began to see you everywhere and realized that you did have classes together. He was quite embarrassed at that but chose not to let it show. He didn't let his eyes linger on you, but he couldn't help but look towards you when you giggled at something one of your friends would say in class. Or when you would whisper the answers to questions quietly, even when it wasn't you who was called to answer.
He thought he was being subtle, he really did.
"So, what's that about?" Remus had asked him as his eyes followed your form. You had just walked out of your last class with the Gryffindors.
"Hm? What?" Sirius had asked, turning to look at his friend. Remus looked at him with a knowing look.
"Why have you been staring at Y/N Y/L/N every chance you get?" It was James who had asked this time. "Didn't you make her cry?"
Sirius felt his head snap up to stare at his friends incredulously. Had he really made you cry? For some odd reason that did not make Sirius feel good.
"Oh, you don't know." Remus sighed, clapping his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "She thinks you were making fun of her." Sirius felt his heart drop.
"I called her pretty!" Sirius spluttered out in an attempt to defend himself. James huffed out a laugh and Remus rolled his eyes.
"She's shy, Pads. You can't woo a girl like her as easy as you can the others." Remus paused; the boys didn't know that he read with you from time to time. He considered you a good friend of his. "She's very shy. And also, one of my friends, so if you're just looking for a hook up, she's not the one."
Sirius stared up at his friend like he had grown two heads. Moony was friends with you? Moony thought Sirius wanted to sleep with you? Sirius could have laughed, but he didn't. Because that's what he had been going for.
Remus carried on. "She's the type of girl you settle down and marry. She's too smart and sweet for the dating with no real plans for the future." He had said. Sirius rolled his eyes and accepted that you were off limits. He still kept your book though.
Sirius Black had not been thinking of you, and when he did, he just pushed those thoughts away. He was very proud of himself.
It wasn't until he had seen a boy from Slytherin laughing loudly at something you'd said in the hallways after class one day. You were blushing in a way that made it look like your face was glowing. He watched miserably (Remus's words, not his) as the boy wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You didn't run away on the brink of tears from him.
So, what had Sirius done wrong. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from marching up to the two of you and snatching you away.
"Why don't you try and talk to her?" Remus asked, looking far more amused than Sirius had liked at the time. Sirius glared at the thought. Why should he be the one to talk to you? Remus raised his hands in surrender.
"All I'm saying is that she really is quite lovely when you get to know her." With that thought Remus was walking towards you, leaving Sirius to watch. Sirius didn't hear anything that was said.
He only watched as you blushed further when Remus pulled you away from the boy. He watched as he whispered in your ear, and he saw the way you nodded and allowed yourself to be whisked away by Sirius's own friend.
You had found yourself in Remus's company one evening. You knew he was friends with Sirius Black, but the two of you didn't really talk about your other friends. Not unless you were retelling a story that involved one of them.
Remus cleared his throat, pulling your attention away from the book you were reading and up to his face.
"You know, I think Sirius is quite taken with you." His eyes were warm, and you could see the amusement swirling around in them. You could hardly fight the blush that was taking over your face. You blinked cluelessly up at him, surely not.
"Well, I find that hard to believe Remmy." You sighed and looked away, locking your eyes onto the wallpaper across from the two of you. "He made fun of me." You willed yourself not to cry at the reminder.
Remus saw your lip wobble and sighed, pulling you towards him. "Oh dove, he was flirting with you." This caused your eyes to snap towards him, the blush growing stronger. There was no way, you had been so sure.
As if reading your mind, Remus continued. "Oh yes, and I think he would love it if you would talk to him." The thought of it made you feel nervous. You shook your head. Remus chuckled; you could feel the vibrations in his chest.
"Don't be nervous, dove." He cooed. You blushed even harder, turning to burry your face in his chest.
"M'not nervous, Remmy" You sighed. "I just don't think he and I are looking for the same things." You said, you were nervous though. You didn't like being made fun of.
"What if I made it easier, hm?" Remus asked. You pulled away from his chest to look up at him. "There's a party tomorrow and I would love if my sweet dove would come." He was looking at you, and just as you were about to say no. That those sorts of things weren't your thing, his hands moved to your side and began to dig in. He was tickling you.
You laughed. Remus thought it was a sweet sound, you were like a sweet baby sister to him. He just wanted to see you happy. "Remus-" The air was stolen from your lungs. "S-stahp!" You laughed, trying to catch your breath. Remus was relentless though.
"Not until you say yes!" He had said, you were beginning to cry, and your sides were cramping. So, you caved, nodding your head wildly and still giggling as he finally stopped his torture. You tried your best to glared up at him.
"You play dirty, sir." You had huffed and he had laughed at you before helping you up and walking you to your dorm. He had won and now he would have all of his friends at a party to hang out with him tomorrow night.
You had agreed to let him pick you up and he had even coerced you into staying the night with him tomorrow. He was looking forward to making you and Sirius talk.
You were not a party person. Which is why you were allowing the other girls in your dorm to play dress up with you. Monica was doing your make up, and Darlene was fussing over your hair. Shelly was digging through all dour of your closets to find you something to wear.
"Yes! This is perfect, Y/N, you are going to look smashing." She giggled as she turned towards the mirror to show you what she had picked. It was a dress, although it looked more like a shirt to you.
As if sensing you were about to protest, Monica spoke up. "Nope! You swore you would wear whatever we picked!" And then she told you to close your eyes so she could finish the look.
By the time you were done, you had to admit that you did look good. Monica had kept the make up very simple, going for a more natural look. Darlene had opted to let your natural curls show, twisting the top part of your hair up into a cute little bun.
The dress wasn't so bad, it was very short though and very tight. Your petite frame was on show for everyone to see. There was a knock on the door.
Darlene squealed and rushed over to open it. She ushered Remus in after telling him to close his eyes. You stood very still, looking like a deer in headlights when he did open his eyes.
His mouth dropped open, and a faint blush began to creep up on his cheeks. You beamed at him. He reached up to rub at the back of his neck and he chuckled.
"Well, now I'm not so sure if I want to share you with Sirius." He had said, and you laughed. Remus was glad you hadn't taken him seriously, even though he very much was. You smiled and accepted the arm he had offered to you.
The girls all giggled and pushed the two of you out of the room, after making sure he kept an eye on you and that you would be returned safely tomorrow morning.
The walk to Gryffindor tower was filled with Remus subtly flirting with you and you trying your hardest not to turn around and run. Not that he would let you, he kept a very firm grip on your waist in order to ensure that you wouldn't.
When you walked through the portrait you realized how many people were actually there. Suddenly, you were sweating. Remus tightened his grip on you and began leading you to the couches where you saw to very pretty girls sitting together.
They cheered when they noticed him and then you were being sat down in between Marlene Mckinnon and her girlfriend Dorcas. Remus told them to keep an eye on you while he went and grabbed drinks. The girls grinned wolfishly as Remus turned and walked away.
"So, you're Y/N." Marlene had said, leaning closer to you as if you wouldn't be able to hear her. You felt Dorcas wrap her arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her. Marlene wasted no time in scooting closer to the both of you.
You nodded, opting to stay silent. You didn't trust your voice. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck at their close proximity.
Marlene leaned in close to your face, drawing your attention back to her. You swallowed thickly.
"You are very pretty." She sang, leaning in even closer if possible. You could feel your face heating and it seemed that she noticed as well, because she smiled wider.
"Oh, I think she likes that, D." She hummed, looking past you towards her girlfriend. Your eyes widened; did you like that? You could feel Dorcas hum in thought.
Then, Marlene was pushing even closer, leaning over you to press a kiss to her girlfriend's lips. If you weren't blushing before, you surely were now. Marlenes breast we an inch away from your face, and you tensed and tried not to move. Then she pulled back, cuddling right back up to you like nothing had happened.
"So pretty girl, you got a boyfriend? Girlfriend?" She asked, turning her head to bat her lashes at you. Her smile was so bright, you surely thought you would go blind if you stared any longer. You cleared your throat, looking away. You pretended not to hear her giggles.
"No, I'm not seeing anyone at the moment." You kept it simple and began to pray for Remus to return. She wasn't satisfied and now Dorcas seemed interested in the conversation as well.
You were shifted as Dorcas removed her arm, leaning forwards in her seat so that she could look at you as well.
"Have you ever had a partner sweet thing?" What was up with these questions, why did it matter to these girls? You shook your head as you turned to meet her eyes. She seemed surprised by your answer, and you didn't miss the way her eyes flickered to Marlene when you answered.
She licked her lips, reaching out to place her hand on your thigh. You felt Marlene place a hand on your other thigh. Then it dawned on you. They were flirting, and they were flirting with you.
Just as everything began to make sense, you knight in shining armor returned. There was Remus coming your way with two drinks in hand. He was eyeing the three of you with a slight frown on his face.
The pleading look in your eyes must have been all he needed to come to your rescue.
"Hey, dove. You ready to go mingle?" He handed you a cup and offered you his newly free hand. You nodded and pulled away from the two girls who looked like they were ready to devour you whole.
They seemed disappointed at the interruption. You smiled and before you left Marlene spoke up.
"Well, pretty girl, if you're ever ready for a relationship, you're always welcomed here." She called out as Remus began to pull you away. His grip was tight and grounding. You heart was beating out of your chest, what the heck did that mean?
When he found a semi cleared spot in the room he stopped, turning to face you. "So, seems you're making quite the impression, hm?" He grinned down at you. You flushed and nodded your head.
"I think they were flirting with me!" You cheered, bringing your cup to your lips and taking a drink. It burned and you couldn't help but scrunch your face up at the feeling. Remus chuckled and pulled you closer.
He began leading you to a different spot in the room and before you really knew where you were going you were coming face to face with his friends. The Marauders.
You gulped as Remus pulled you down onto the couch next to him. His arm stayed wrapped around you and he had you practically sitting on your lap. On your other side was Peter, you had never really talked to him, but he looked pretty sweet.
You offered him a smile when he looked over at the two of you.
"There you are Moony!" James slurred as he leaned on Lily Evans shoulder. Said girl offered you a grin and shoved James off of her and over onto Sirius.
"Y/N, right?" She gushed, and you were pretty positive that she was already drunk. You smiled and nodded anyways and tried to fight the blush that was working its way buck up your neck. "You are so pretty!" She sang as she leaned forward to get her point across.
"Yes, Lils, she is very pretty." Remus purred behind you. You missed the dark look that Sirius threw his way, but Remus did not. He grinned at Sirius and pulled you even closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You took another sip of your drink, hoping that the unbearable heat running across your skin would settle but it only seemed to amplify it. Remus reached over to pull your legs over his, so instead of leaning into his chest you were now fully sitting on his lap. You didn't mind, you and Remus were always cuddled up in some way.
You went to scan the people around you, choosing to ignore the conversation happening within the group. You looked at James who was currently whispering in Lilys ear and said girl was not enjoying the way he was practically laying across her. You giggled quietly.
Then your eyes moved to Sirius who was glaring at Remus, you tilt your head back to look up at Remus who was grinning over at Sirius. You tapped his chest, causing him to look down at you. You smiled at him and moved your head to look back at Sirius. You hadn't spoken to the boy since that night in the library.
You hadn't forgot about how upset you were, but maybe Remus was right. Maybe Sirius had only been flirting with you? You wouldn't know because you had never really been involved with anyone like that.
He was already looking at you, so you offered him a smile and took another sip of your drink. It was empty though, had you really already drunk that much of it? Surely not, so you sighed and reached for the cup in Remus's hand, swapping it with your empty one.
Remus chuckled. "I'll go grab us more drinks dove." Remus moved your legs and stood up, patting the top of your head before he took off in search of more drinks.
Sirius took that as his chance, jumping up as soon as Remus was out of sight. He moved to the empty spot next to you. You looked over at him and offered him another sickly sweet smile.
You were pretty tipsy, whatever was in that cup was strong and you rarely ever drink. Sirius was so pretty and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning towards him.
"Hi." You grin, tilting your head to look up at his face. He smiled back, causing your face to heat miserably. Was it always this hot in here?
"Hello lovely." He said back, Sirius was feeling the effects of the alcohol he had consumed but he was doing his best to remember what Moony had told him. You were shy, but you were also loosed up from the drink you had. So maybe things would be different now.
"Are you enjoying the party?" He asked, trying to make conversation. He didn't want you to bolt again. He didn't think he could handle it this time. He was being so nice to you and then you realized that you had misunderstood him that night in the library.
"Yes! and I am pretty sure that these two girls were flirting with me." You said, a large grin sat on your pretty face and Sirius could feel one making its way on his face at the sight. "Do you still have my book?" You asked him.
Sirius felt his heart drop, he did still have your book and he really hoped you wouldn't be mad. He had read it and he had seen the little notes you had left in it. What you thought about certain things and what you would have done at certain parts. He hated reading but he loved that book. Your book.
"Uh yes, I do. I read it actually." He said quietly, as if he were embarrassed to admit it. You leaned in closer to hear him. He saw no anger on your face.
"What did you think of it? Sorry about all the scribbles, I like to make notes of things." You rambled on, waving your hands as you talked. You didn't notice how close you were to him, and he wasn't about to point it out.
"It was very good love, I actually think it's my favorite book now." Your eyes lit up at that. He liked the book and it's his favorite too? You giggled at the thought.
"It's my favorite book too!" You grinned, reaching out to grab his arm. Sirius felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest at the look in your eyes. He realized then that he really was smitten with you, and he never wanted this feeling to stop.
Remus was coming back now, not that you noticed. He handed you your drink and took the seat across from you, not bothering to make Sirius move. This is what he had been wanting to happen.
So, he sat back and watched as you drank and enjoyed Sirius's company. He could have laughed at the look on Sirius' face when you scooted closer until you were practically leaning on him.
Sirius knew you wouldn't remember everything from tonight, and he followed Remus as he carried you up the stairs to their dorm. Listening to you ramble to your best friend about how pretty Sirius Black was, he couldn't fight the grin that sat on his face or the feeling of his stomach doing flips.
Sirius Black made his decision; he was going to ask you on a date, and he was going to make you his. He would do whatever it took to keep that pretty smile on that pretty face of yours.
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