#cookie told me to leave me swearing at him in. so i did what they wanted. dont blame me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gojonanami · 6 months ago

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❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ! ❞

❝ THE FOUR TIMES YOUR NEIGHBOR TRIES TO HOOK UP WITH YOU AND THE ONE TIME HE SUCCEEDS !! ❞

✧ pairing: uncle! sukuna x neighbor! reader

✧ summary: you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, uncle sukuna, degradation (slut, whore, brat), freshly out from jail sukuna, implied age gap (sukuna probably like late 30s / early 40s, reader is like mid twenties), wet dreams (f!), masturbation (f! +m!), dom!sukuna, sub!reader, dirty talk, oral (f + m), spanking (f!receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay (f! receiving), implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart found on pinterest (let me know if you know the og artist)

✧ w/c: 8,939

You were a pretty little thing.

That’s what he thought when he first saw you. And when he saw you smile, his second thought was — how could he have you?

You were the girl next door. Literally. Grew up next to the Itadori family, you watched the brat on weekends, helped around the house after the mom had left, and even slept over some nights in the guest room.

The very room you were in now, pinned underneath him, legs spread as your cunt gushed as if you had been the one doing time instead of him.

“Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly?” He clicks his tongue, the glint of his piercing in the low light of the moonlight that illuminated the barest hint of the room. It was by that light that you could not only see the way his lips curled into a smirk as his hand came down on your needy pussy, but the noticeable bulge in his pants, “g’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”

“Are the cookies almost done?” Yuji asked, rubbing the back of his head, squinting at the cookies through the oven window, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, “sure you’re not burning them?”

“I know how to bake cookies, Yu,” you roll your eyes, as you clean the counters off of the flour and bits of dough and sugar that smeared the surface, “why are you so impatient anyway?”

“He wants to leave before the wrecking ball blows through, and you should do that same,” Choso adds, emerging from his room with a yawn, and you tilt your head, his gaze slides to Yuji, “she doesn’t know?”

Yuji shakes his head, “I thought Dad was—”

Choso glances at you, gesturing to his face to tell you that you had something on your own, before his eyes slide back to his younger brother, “You know Jin can barely remember to tell us, much less—”

You cross your arms, wiping the flour and sugar from your cheek, but you only manage to make it worse, “Can you guys just tell me instead of having an argument about who should have told me?”

Yuji sighed, leaning against the counter, elbow propped up as he held his head up with his fist flat against his chin, “My dad’s brother is coming to stay for us for the summer,”

“Your uncle?” and you miss the way Yuji grimaces at the question, too busy pulling on oven mitts, “Your dad’s great — I can’t imagine your uncle being any different,” you pull the cookies from the oven, swatting Yuji’s hand as he tries to take one off the still burning rack, “you’ll burn yourself, just wait,”

Your own family was scattered here and there now — and the Itadoris had been like your own family as you grew up — Jin was like a second dad to you, he had always looked after you, even after you had graduated from college. The quiet man didn’t say much but he did a lot, and you couldn’t imagine his brother being much different.

And then the door swung open, a large man caught in the backlight of the summer sun, casting a long shadow across the entryway made your breath stick in your chest as if it was where it belonged — pinned under his mere presence.

“Looks like you’ve done nothing to change the place, did you?” He takes a step or two in and finally his body is cast into view — tattoos bound like ribbons against his skin, muscles are heavy cords that look more monstrous than human — as no human should be as hulking as he was. But that was nothing compared to his face itself — black tattoos lining both sides of his face in an intricate pattern that stole your breath from your lungs, while his eyes were black holes that cut right through you than at you, a flicker of flames burning underneath, “tch, brat, take my things up—“ he tosses the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at Yuji who catches it with a glare, before his gaze slides to Choso, “and he’s still here?”

“Don’t be rude to my son and his brother, Sukuna,” Jin sighed, entering behind him as he shut the door, “Choso is welcome, and don’t forget you’re a guest here,” he takes the bag from his son, and takes it upstairs instead.

And Sukuna’s gaze finally falls on you. It’s heavy, the sharp tip of a sword tracing every inch of your body as it circled its weak points — his eyes lingers on the curves of your body — and perhaps the points he liked too.

“And who’s this?” he jerks his head towards you gruffly, as if you couldn’t answer yourself.

You say your name, “I’m their neighbor,” and he nods, eyes darting to Choso, his body growing tense, as he gritted his teeth, but Sukuna was only all smiles, he took steps forward. You can’t help but avert your gaze, as he approaches, fingers outstretched, a slight flinch but it’s gone soon enough.

You glance up, and find him taking a bite of one of your cookies, tongue darting out to lick the chocolate from his lips, “sweet,” he devours it, “not bad, brat,” and he leans close again to grab another, “but probably not as sweet as you.”

And your eyes widen, as he bears no reaction, except for a small smirk that graces his lips, as he follows his brother upstairs, “You better not be fucking around in my things,”

You don’t hear Jin’s reply, still utterly consumed by what just happened.

“You okay? He’s just like that,” Choso murmurs, “he won’t bother you, I promise,”

“No, no, I’m okay,” your lips curl in an offer of reassurance, but you’re sure it falls flat, as your eyes glance back at the stairs.

And that was your first time meeting Sukuna.

But far from your last.

The next time you saw him was at a summer barbecue the Itadoris always had to kick off summer break. And most of your time was spent chatting with Choso and kicking Yuji’s ass at Mario Kart, until it grew dark, and Choso was stuck carrying a slightly tipsy Yuji inside.

You laid back in the patio chair, scrolling on your phone to the symphony of cicadas filling the silence, the smoke from the barbecue still lingering in the night — and then you hear the creak of the back door open.

“You want another drink, Choso?”

“I’d love a drink, girl,” and your eyes snap over to spot Sukuna, standing with hands tucked into his pockets, a black tank you assumed was several sizes too small.

“Sure,” you say, slipping from your chair, “but we only have the mix for a sex on the beach,” and his eyes find yours, a ghost of a gruff chuckle on his lips.

“Sounds perfect if it’s from you, sweetheart,” and you have to suppress the urge to roll your eyes — he may be nice to look at, but he isn’t smooth, you make the drink in relative silence. Until you sense his presence behind you, your head whipping back to find him looming, your breath caught in your throat.

“Uh—“

“Just wanted to see a master bartender at work, you seem like you really know what you’re doing, with, what’s the drink called again?” And you force yourself to look forward, ignoring the weird mix of his musk and alcohol, with the clink of the ice cubes against the glsd breaking the silence.

“Sex on the beach,” you offer it to him, and fuck, you don’t like it — don’t like him and his smug grin, the way your eyes can’t pull away from his, the way your heart clenched, and the way you wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smile on off his face.

“Good girl,” he plucks the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours, “want to have one with me?”

And you almost find yourself saying yes, find yourself buckling under the heat of his gaze and the summer humidity that clings to your skin and strangles the sense from your head — and you can’t help but think how nice those fingers of his would feel around your neck—

“No, no, I probably should head home. It’s late—“ and just then the back door opens again, Choso standing in the doorway, “Choso, where’s Yu?”

“I got him to bed. Come on, I’ll walk you home,” and you nod, grabbing your bag with a slight nod to Sukuna before disappearing inside, and you don’t catch the way your best friend glares at Sukuna.

And you don’t see the way Sukuna stares at you as you walk away either.

The third time you meet Sukuna is a few nights later — and it wasn’t for lack of trying to avoid him.

“Can I have some popcorn?” you ask, eyes still glued to the TV, a movie that the two of you had seen a million times before during movie night, “Choso?” you glance over at him, but he’s staring off into space, “hello?” you nudge him, and he finally comes to.

“Sorry, what?” And you sigh, leaning over and grabbing the popcorn bowl, “sorry I was just—“ he shakes his head, “nothing,”

“You’re so convincing,” and you see a flush crawl up his neck, “C‘mon, what’s bothering you?”

You toss a pillow at Choso, the pillow bouncing off his face to land in his lap, the glow of the TV in his dark bedroom giving you enough light to see the glare on his face, “Cho, you’ve been brooding all night — did Yuji call you by your name instead of big brother?”

He scoffs, “I only got upset about that once,” or twice or maybe ten times, “it’s Sukuna. He’s been really grating on my nerves,” and your eyebrows knit together, as you put the volume of the TV down.

“What has he done?” and Choso hesitates, several emotions flicker across his face before a stoic look glazes over his face, as he presses his hand to his lips, “you can tell me—“

There’s a knock at the door, and Yuji sticks his head in, “Hey, Dad has to sleep now for a meeting, so move to the living room,” and you throw popcorn at him, but he only catches one or two in his mouth and leaves.

You sigh, “I should probably just go home anyway, I have to get some sleep,” you glance at Choso, who is fascinated with his floor all of a sudden, “you okay?” He moves to get up, but you shake your head, “just chill, I’ll walk back.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, “I’m fine, just get home safe okay?”

You snort, “think I’ll be fine walking the ten feet to my door,” you grab your things, “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

And you close the door softly, turning to head up the hallway and out of the house, bag slung over your shoulder, and you’re turning the corner, when you nearly crash into someone.

A hand curls around your wrist to steady you, “You should watch where you’re going, brat,” and your eyes flit up to find a dark gaze looking back down at you, lips curled in a small grin, “don’t know what you’ll find wandering these halls,”

You pull your arm away, “I’m pretty familiar with these halls and what wanders them,”

“Not all of them,” the low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you brush past him, avoiding his piercing gaze, cutting through you with practiced ease, “what were you doing here so late anyway?” You ignore him as you go to grab your shoes, but find them missing.

“Have you seen my shoes?” and he only tilts his head, arms crossed, muscles inked with tattoos that littered up and down, and you knew he could pin you down with barely an ounce of effort.

“Maybe answer my question and I’ll tell you,” and your lips twist into a scowl, as you begin to look around, checking the coat closet, under the couch, “was he really that bad?” And his question makes you pause, “the cursed brat, in bed? Did he not do the job for you?”

You haul yourself to your feet, “What is your problem?”

And his expression is as milquetoast as ever, as if he had asked you about the weather as opposed to asking if you had fucked your best friend, “You don’t have to be fucking sensitive, it’s just a question,” he runs his painted nails through his dyed cropped hair, low light glinting off the black sheen, “unless it was that bad,”

“Fuck off,” you scoff, trying to walk past him but he blocks you, “what?”

“Maybe I’ll help you find your shoes, if you have a drink with me,” and you cross your arms.

“Did you go to jail for stealing? Because with all those muscles and tattoos, I’m surprised you weren’t caught sooner,” and he’s leaning closer, breath warming your lips and your blood alike, boiling under your skin as if he had set you on fire without lying a single finger on you.

“Didn’t take you to be one to admire me, little one, after all, I’m just your neighbors’ uncle aren’t I? Jailbird, criminal, fucking lowlife, right? And his fingers ghost over your jaw, “but I don’t see you pulling away, do I?”

And you aren’t. But why aren’t you? Every brain cell is telling you to fucking run, but your body wants nothing more than to lean into his touch, to give in, let yourself be engulfed by him—

The creak of the door has you jumping back, “hey, you forgot your shoes—“ Choso starts, and his gaze snaps between you and Sukuna.

“Thanks, Cho,” you slip past Sukuna, grabbing your shoes, “i was wondering what I did with them,” you step into your shoes, cheeks still burning as you can’t quite meet your best friend’s eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

And you’re gone without another word, the silence of your exit hanging overhead as the screen door clicks closed behind you. Sukuna watches you leave, and as he turns he’s met with a glare from Choso.

Sukuna only gives a gruff chuckle, walking past as he lets his shoulder bump against Choso’s, “What are you fucking looking at?”

And now he had visited you in your dreams too.

“S’fucking wet,” Sukuna has you pinned down with one hand, face hovering over your drenched cunt, as he toyed with it, tugging your folds apart to let some of your pre drip onto your bedspread, “fucking slut, you were begging for this, weren’t you?”

And a thick digit sinks into you with little resistance, making your back arch as pleasure rips up your spine, “fuck off,” you manage, between pants.

“I know, brat, that’s what I’m trying to do,” he laughs, as he works a second finger inside you with practiced ease, “like I was made to fuck this cunt open, my fingers are already fucking drenched, and all I’ve done is open you up,” and to punctuate his point, he’s scissoring his fingers to stretch your walls out, dragging against them, as your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

“A-ah, please—“ and he’s grinning now, a purr as he leans down to meet your blown out gaze. His fingers begin to fuck you open, his thumb rubbing against your clit as your body rocked against his hand. And a grunt has you looking at him, only to see him palming his erection, slit dripping with precum, “Sukuna, please—“

“Knew you’d be a good girl f’me, good little slut gonna break my fingers in two,” and his other hand spanks your clit, “now cum,”

And you do, muscles clenching as you do, a cry of his name on your lips that does nothing but stroke his ego, your orgasm soaking his hand. Eyes fluttering open to find him licking your release from his fingers, as his other hand undoes his pants and tugs down his boxers, his cock already dragging against your still twitching cunt.

“Fuck,” you mumble, under your breath, and he only smiles.

“Now you’re getting it, baby.”

And your alarm jolts you awake, you stare at your ceiling, watching the ceiling fan spin, while you glance at your side to find nothing but your comforter beside you. Not to mention, as you shifted, feeling the telltale stickiness of your arousal and the dull throbbing of your cunt, the aftermath of your dream — your very wet dream.

“Fuck,” you say, this time out loud and to no one but yourself. This was going to be a problem, if you let this go on. And you couldn’t. Not after the last time — you swing your feet over the edge of the bed and stand, glancing back at the stain of your pre that you flipped your comforter over — and not after that.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

Yes, you have done a good job. Until now.

You gritted your teeth, as you stood in the doorway of the room. But how could you have avoided him in the guest room of the house he lived in?

And as he loomed in the doorway of the kitchen, dwelling in the shadow of his form, you were kicking the ass of past you, the one that had convinced you it was okay to stay over because Sukuna had been out.

“Had” being the operative word.

It had been a few days since you had found yourself at the Itadoris. And more than a few days since you had found yourself dreaming of Sukuna — waking up with his name on your tongue and your panties uncomfortably drenched. You had gone through more underwear this week than you had in a month. And it didn’t help that you felt the need to get off once you did wake, the ache between your thighs was too much to bear before sleep.

And now here was the subject of your dirty dreams darkening your doorway, as if your dreams were some naughty prophecy waiting to unfold (though you were sure he could fold you).

“What are you talking about?”

And you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had made sure Sukuna wasn’t around when you came over (the absence of his motorcycle is a telltale sign), and always left before he returned. But tonight you made the mistake of drinking with Choso, the two of you finishing two bottles of sake before being completely fucked.

Your head was spinning — you could barely have made it to the bathroom, much less your home. Choso had corralled you into taking his bed, before going and collapsing on his couch. It had been only a few hours into the night before you got up in a haze of confusion with your mouth drier than the Sahara. You pulled yourself up, slipped on thin sleep shorts that you had thrown off at some point due to the summer humidity, before finding your way to the door.

You made your way to the kitchen, the squeak of the fridge as you pulled it open to grab a water bottle. And that’s when he spoke.

“And here you are,” and the water bottle nearly slipped from your grasp, “no need to jump, brat, I’m not a monster or a shadow,”

No, but he’s so much worse, he’s real.

“I was just getting something to drink,” you murmur, and he tilts his head, as he takes a step closer.

“Just water?’ That’s not the kind of drink you still owe me,” and why was his presence so intoxicating? Several drinks in and you could still hold your own, still speak in complete sentences, and even make your way home on foot. But Sukuna comes near, and suddenly you can barely form a fucking syllable, your limbs feel far too heavy, and your body is nearly burning, as if he had turned your blood to wine without any miracle needed.

No, it was more of a curse.

“I don’t remember owing you anything,” and he’s tilting his head, amusement flickering across his lips, a step closer and then another, until you’re utterly engulfed in his presence. You can smell the mix of exhaust and sweat off of him from his motorcycle ride, the way his jaw tenses as if he is holding himself back from taking a bite, and the way his gaze pierces into you as if he has you pinned like a butterfly under glass.

“Do I need to give you a reason?” And when his fingers ghosted over your swell of your cheek, a featherlight brush from rough, calloused skin that makes a shiver roll down your body, “didn’t think I had to with the way you were nearly melting into my touch when I saw you last, girl,”

“I wasn’t the one begging for me to be there,” and he clicks his tongue derisively, and you wonder what else he can do with it, before his fingers grip your chin roughly, forcing your gaze to his.

“Tch, so pleased with yourself just for resisting, are you, sweetheart?” he tilts his head, while his other hand slithers down your side until he finds your waist and tugs you close, lips hanging close, a forbidden fruit begging you to take a bite, “imagine how good you’d feel if you gave in,” and you almost do, melting into his touch, as if you were made to fit in his arms, leaning up so you could feel the warm breath of his welcome—

SLAM!

You’re sent stumbling back again, clearing your throat, as the sounds of footsteps grow close, and Yuji wanders into the kitchen, mouth pulled open by his yawn, as he blinks as he spots the two of you.

“Hey, I thought you were asleep upstairs,” he walks past the two of you to grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, and sparing a short glance at Sukuna, “and I thought you had plans,”

“Plans can change, brat,” Sukuna sighs, his eyes still trained on you — a homing missile with a target, and Yuji was an obstacle in the way, “shouldn’t you go back to bed?”

“I could ask you two the same,” he leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, while you only shook your head.

“I’m going to go to bed,” your only exit opportunity and you’d take it — there had been enough mistakes made, and you didn’t need another to add to the list, and you’re slipping back into your room without another word.

You don’t see the way Sukuna glares at his nephew, cursing the day of his existence with only his eyes, only gaining a confused stare in return, “What? Ow!”

And you’re only left questioning why Yuji is holding a bag of ice to his head the next morning.

But you knew you couldn’t avoid Sukuna forever — and you couldn’t avoid how you felt either.

Especially when he gave you exactly what you wanted — space. You had barely seen him for the next week, the former criminal making himself scarce, apparently telling his brother that he had grown tired of “rooming with a bunch of brats,” and had found himself another place to stay for a while.

Jin had sighed when you had asked over breakfast a day or so after he left, “I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, but we’ll see. The only requirement of his release was to stay in the prefecture—”

“And that’s already far too close,” Yuji muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from his dad, “so we don’t even know if he’ll be back huh?”

Jin shrugs, as he sips his coffee, “I don’t know — your uncle isn’t one to stay in one place — unless there’s something that he wants,”

“I’ll take any amount of time that he’s not here,” Choso shakes his head, offering you a small smile, “and this way you can stay over in the guest room now,”

“Yeah, true,” you offered a weak smile, as you continued to pick at your food. This was good news, things were going back to normal, but even so, as you pushed your food on your plate — why did your chest ache so much?

“Yuck, do people’s heads really explode like that?” Yuji sat with the two of you in the living room, TV playing the movie Yuji had chosen, shoveling popcorn by the fistful.

“How would we know that?” you snort, stealing popcorn from his bowl, “why did you even choose this movie anyway?”

“He heard there was a Megan Thee Stallion cameo in it,” and Yuji’s cheeks flushed, visible even in the dim illumination of the TV, as he got to his feet.

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you two want anything?” And you both shake your heads, as you stifle your chuckle.

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Choso asks, and you tilt your head, toying with a popcorn kernel between your fingers.

You shrug, “we’ll see,” your eyes drift back to the movie, but you feel the creak of the bed as he shifts.

“You don’t have been avoiding staying over, even though it’s just us,” Fuck, your eyes still found themselves on the screen instead of him, anywhere but him, and you can hear the unspoken words — even though Sukuna is not here, “are you sure we’re good?”

And you couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t him that was bothering you. It wasn’t him keeping you up at night, it wasn’t him who had been tempting you the last few weeks, and it wasn’t him that you wanted to see — no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself.

So you don’t.

You smile as best you can, “Everything’s fine, Choso,” and he frowns, still unsure, and you know there’s only one thing that will assure him, if only a little, “I’ll stay over,”

And so you end up in the guest room — far too late. Even though Sukuna no longer lingered here, his scent still did, even with the sheet change and the small amount of his things gone, he was still very much here.

And it did little for your sleep. Or maybe too much.

Again, you dreamt of him, his large palms dragging down your sides, lips pulled in a smirk that he pressed to the hollow of your throat before it’s consumed by a flash of canines that pinch and tease the softness of your flesh.

“S’fucking wet,” he huffs a chuckle out, “such a little slut, been wanting this for far too long haven’t you?” And he’s undoing your robe with ease, a single tug has your body revealed to him, “haven’t even laid a finger on you and look at the mess you’ve made,” he clicks his tongue, and a whine parts your lips, “already whining like a bitch?”

He shoves two fingers inside you, a gasp ripped from your throat, thick digits stretching your walls, clenching around the intrusion, “Sukuna—please,”

“Silly girl,” he murmurs in your ear, “I’m not even the one touching you now,” and fantasy melts into reality as his hand cups your chin, eyes fluttering open, “but I know I can make you cum faster than any dream,”

Wait. What?

And suddenly the touch down your body feels all too real, pain ribboning from the fingers squeezing your hips hard, and a gasp as your body trembles, still caught between sleep and reality. Your body can’t move, but it’s not the weight of your own limbs keeping you still.

Your eyes shoot open completely, sleep shed completely from your mind.

And you found Sukuna, his lips curled in a smile that was far too familiar from other sleepless nights. But was it? Or was it another dream that he had invaded, far too real as you slept in his bed, rather than your own.

Your hand reaches out for him shakily, fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw, “Is this real?” you mutter, more to yourself, but he takes it upon himself to answer, his hand darting out to curl around your wrist, squeezing, while the other holds himself up, mattress creaking a divot where his hand pressed in, body heat all too close.

“Want me to pinch you? Can’t say it’ll be the cheek you’re thinking of,” he chuckles, unable to meet his gaze, “don’t go acting like a shy virgin now, woman. You’re the one having wet dreams about me,”

“No, I-I, it wasn’t—“ but your brain is short circuiting and his laugh that rumbles against you tells you he’s enjoying this far too much, “what are you doing here? I thought you left,” the statement comes out far too biting, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I did, but it was just for a week. I had some business to deal with,” and a grin pulls at his lips, “why? Did you miss me, brat? Is that why you’re dreaming of me?”

You’re squirming underneath him trying to look anywhere but him, “I’m not, it wasn’t—“ and he only hums, dragging a hand down your front, until he’s reaching your shorts, a brief pause to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t, and fingers pressing against your soaked shorts.

“That why you’re soaked through your fucking shorts?” And the rough pads of his fingers grind against your eager hole, nearly swallowing you in, only the thin fabric of your shorts keeping his fingers from fucking you then and there, “least your body’s honest — so eager to get fucked,” and he’s teasing your drenched entrance, drawing his fingers back to have your pre like spiderwebs between the two digits.

“Sukuna, please—“ and his lips curl.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll go,” a small whine left your throat, the throbbing between your thighs growing with the way his gaze undid you — unscrewed you by your hinges and watched you fall apart, only to ask you to put yourself back together.

But you couldn’t. Not without him.

“Sukuna—“

“I didn’t ask you to whine, are you going to answer my question—-“

“Fuck me,” the words fall from your lips as if possessed, and you can’t find it in you to regret them.

And he smiles all the same.

“About fucking time,” and his fingers meanly rub against your clit through the paper thin fabric of your shorts, “didn’t even fucking put on panties and you expect me to think you didn’t want me fuck you open,” and embarrassment burns at your cheeks, “did you get this wet from dreaming about me?” And no words come to your mind, and he gives you a sharp spank to your clothed slit, drawing a sharp gasp to your lips and slick flooding from your folds, “better use your words, woman,”

“Fuck, please, I need—“ and his fingers practically rip your shorts off, letting your cunt gush onto the sheets.

“Need me to fuck you that bad? G’nna beg this criminal to fuck you open?” And he’s toying with your folds, tugging your tight hole apart as his eyes rake over your pussy, exposed for him, “after all of your teasing, what makes you think you even deserve to be fucked? Maybe I should leave you like this, fingers buried in your cunt, wishing they were your neighbor’s uncle’s,” and a sadistic smile graces his features as it only can his, “fuck yourself for me,”

You whimper, as his fingers leave your hole, clenching around nothing as if begging for his touch, “what? But—“

“Fuck yourself until you cum, wanna see what you’ve been doing when you’re fucking me in your sleep,” the absence of his touch leaves you keening and needy, for something, anything to get you off. Want overcomes inhibition, and your shaky fingers find their way to your cunt, fingertips tracing the outer lips, a gasp you barely recognize as your own when you rub against your clit, “c’mon girl, gotta open yourself up for me — think I’ll fit if you just rub yourself like that?” And he’s pressing his clothed erection against your thigh — and he’s fucking big — rock hard cock rubbing against you through damp damp sweatpants.

And his fingers grabs your own, guiding them to your slick hole, letting them slip past your fluttering walls, while his own teased your outsides, “Good girl,” and the praise makes your walls clench, and he’s chuckling, “want to be a fucking good girl, then fuck yourself until I see you cum for me,”

You swallow your whines, beginning to move your fingers in and out, your insides clinging to you, as if begging for something longer, thicker, better — and you knew his fingers would be. A moan falls from your lips, and he clicks his tongue.

“Gotta be rougher than that,” and his fingers curl around the base of your own, using your fingers as a glorified fuck toy. Your head lolled back, as he controlled the pace of your fingers, fucking you hard and fast, reaching places you didn’t think were possible with your fingers, “that’s it, you’re close aren’t you? Like being fucked with your own fingers, don’t you, you slut?” And you’re shuddering, soft cries and moans filling the silence of the night with the loud squelch of your cunt.

“Sukuna, f-fuck, ngh, I can’t—“ and he only begins to rub on your clit with his thumb.

“Yes you can,” he gruffly chuckles, murmuring in your ear as he leans forward, “cum on your fingers like you have every night for me,” and he forces your gaze to meet his as your fingers brush that one spot that has your back arching, “say my name,”

And you do, cumming hard around your fingers, as he uses them to fuck you through your orgasm, the wet noises of your folds growing louder as your thighs shake. Your eyes meet his, glassy with tears from your high, and Sukuna leans down to lick the salty tear from your cheek.

He pulls your fingers from inside you, your sticky cum coating your digits and even dripping onto his own. He smirks as he eyes them, before sliding them into his mouth. A moan pulled from your lips as he sucks your essence clean from them, tongue dragging up the length of your fingers.

“Shit, that was a nice moan,” and his eyes fall back to your drenched cunt, “Still so fucking tight,” he clicks his tongue, Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly? G’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”

he hums, taking in your ruined state — tear stained cheeks, your dripping cunt, and your red ruined lips from biting them, “so fucking pretty like this,” and you hear him shift, the distinct sound of his phone camera, making your eyes snap open.

“No, fuck, no don’t—“ and he’s turning the screen around to show you how absolutely fucked you look, “please—“

“It’s a little too late for that, can’t have anyone buying your little virgin act anymore huh?” he’s grinning as he leans forward, pinning your thighs in place as you try to squirm away, “don’t move,”

His order makes your muscles tense, unable to move your body under the heavy grasp of his hands splayed against your hips. The pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh, as his lips dare closer to your weeping slit.

“Fuck, are you a virgin though? You’re still so fucking tight even after that little show you put on for me,” and he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, his breath warming your twitching cunt, “either way, you won’t be one soon,” and he’s burying his mouth in your pussy.

You moan, covering your mouth before he sucks on your clit, tongue teasing your hole open, a wave of heat flooding your body. The sounds of his licking and slurping fill your ears — and you wonder how the whole house isn’t awake yet.

You can’t stop your hips from nearly fucking his face, but he spanks your thigh, hard, as he pulls his mouth from your dripping slit, “I told you not to move,” and he spanks your clit for good measure, making you yelp against your fingers, “tell me when you’re about to cum,” and you whimper, “or I can open this door and let the house hear us,”

You nod, but he doesn’t miss the way your slit twitches at the thought, and his mouth curls in a nasty smirk, “such a fucking slut, maybe I will,” and he’s plunging two thick fingers into your greedy cunt, a gasp ripped from your throat at the intrusion, walls fluttering as they attempt to accommodate his digits. But it’s all squeezing and barely any stretch, as his fingers work you open.

And it doesn’t take long to get you worked up, his digits knuckle deep and dripping wet, “gonna fucking break my fingers in two with your virgin hole, girl,” he grunts, your body burning with his touch alone, nails dragging against your walls, curling so they can bully that sweet spot just right, “you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” the telltale squeeze of your cunt tells him so, and you’re nodding, and his fingers slip from inside.

You’re whining, tears burning at the corners of your eyes, “Please, fuck, wanna cum,” the pleasure that had built was throbbing, a dam close to bursting but denied its relief, so it remained, begging and waiting — “please, Sukuna—“

“So you do know how to beg like a good little whore, gonna fuck you again, but you can’t cum until I tell you,” and he’s sinking three fingers into you now, eyes rolling back as your back arches, but he’s fucking you meanly, curling and twisting his fingers, until the pleasure is a tight knot in your belly, barely hanging on from snapping, “wait,” he grunts, and it’s as if your warmth is made for him — or now it was, because he’s made it his, “wait,” and you’re sure he’s reached your cervix somehow, fingertips reaching places you’ve only dreamed of (literally), and then he leans down lips around your clit as he orders you, “now, cum,”

And you do, hard, as he sucks around your clit while fucking you through your orgasm, cum flooding his fingers and face alike, drenching him, even as he slurped and sucked up every bit.

He finally pulls away, a shiver slips down your spine as he slips his fingers from inside you, pink tongue flicking against his lips, still slick with your cum, What a fucking mess you’ve made,” he sneers, but he’s licking his lips clean all the same, “should make you clean up the mess you made, shouldn’t I?” And he’s pressing the pads of his fingers to your lips, you’re too fucked out to fight, lips parting with ease, “suck,” and you do, opening wide to let his fingers inside, lips and tongue curled around the same fingers that had explored your cunt.

He watched as you obediently sucked every drop of your juices off, a trickle of drool slipping down the corner of your lips makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants, and he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“Better than your dreams, huh, sweetheart?” he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, he can’t fucking wait a minute longer, “turn around, gonna fuck this slutty princess cunt from behind,” but you only can watch as he tugs down his sweatpants and boxers alike, his cock slapping against his stomach.

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you had imagined. Mushroom tip red and hard, as pretty veins run up the sides, and he was looking as if he’d not only split you open, but break you all together.

Your thighs quaked at the thought, more slick slipping from your needy cunt — and you wanted him to.

Your knees shake, as you turn slowly, much too slowly his pace, and he grunts, his hands gripping your hips, as he flips you onto your stomach, a yelp leaving your lips as you bounce on the mattress. “have to fuckin’ do everything myself for this whore’s pussy,”

You’re gripping the sheets, nails surely tearing holes in the thin fabric of the sheets, as his calloused palm comes down on your ass, hard, the smack echoing in the silence of the night, a mewl you don’t recognize as your own, “Sukuna, please, I can’t—“

“You can, you’ll take whatever I give you, brat,” and another smack finds your ass again, as he pinches the flesh for good measure, drawing another moan from your lips and another chuckle from his, “and you’ll take this cock too,” and he doesn’t spare you a moment as he presses his swollen, dripping cockhead to your drenched hole, smearing his pre all over your ass — as if to erase any doubt you were his, because there wasn’t — before finally sliding in.

God, fuck.

Your arms were already shaking, barely able to hold yourself up, but your face nearly plants into the mattress as he sinks into you — he was too fucking big. Even all the prep he had given you was nothing, nothing compared to how much his dick was stretching your cunt.

He hummed, as your insides swallowed him eagerly, even with the slight resistance of your tight little pussy, watching as your walls parted for him with almost practiced ease, sucking him deeper and deeper, as if you were made for him. And you would be, after he fucked your cunt to his shape again and again — because this was far from the last time he would take you.

It was only the first.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight — am I the first to fuck this pussy?” he grunts, grasping your hips tightly, your warm, wet pussy wrapped around his dick — he had waited far too long for this, too many nights spent grasping at his cock, thinking how much better it would be buried in your pussy.

“H-hngh, Sukuna, s’big,” you’re nearly babbling as he works himself into you, inch by inch, not even halfway in, and you were gonna cum just from him putting his dick in, “can’t fit—” and he’s scoffing, watching you squirm against his length, but he only continues to fuck his way into your tight hole, another sharp slap to your ass as a warning.

“I’ll make it fit, girl,” he growls — like fuck he was stopping now that’s gotten this far, there was only one way this was ending — and it was with his cock fucking you full of his cum, “c’mon, did the dream not compare to the reality? Did you think I had a tiny dick?” and he thrusts shallowly against you, sending another inch inside your already stuffed folds, drawing a needy whine from your throat, “so fucking loud, you gonna let the whole house know what we’re doing at this rate,”

he murmurs, bending down to your ear, and your walls squeeze around him, a vice grip that has him nearly cumming then and there, but no he won’t, not yet, “fuck, did you think about letting Choso know? Maybe I’d let him watch me fuck you, only way he’ll ever see you like this,” and you whimper as he slams into you, finally bottoming out as his tip bullies your womb, making you cry out against your fingers, “to think the pretty girl next door is on her hands and knees like a slut for me now, getting split open by my dick. What would Choso think?”

You’re whining, “Please, fuck, slow down—” but he only pulls out a little to piston back in, balls slapping against your ass as he does, setting a mean pace, as he chuckles in your ear.

“You’re saying that, but we both know that’s not what you want — slutty fucking pussy trying break my cock in two,” the sounds of your skin slapping against you as his tip brushes against your cervix rings in your ear, even as he murmurs in it, “y’’know he wants to fuck you right? The little brat is always watching you, nearly fisting himself at the sight of you,” he’s forcing you upwards, pressing your back to his chest, “he wants you, but he’ll never have you, because this pussy is mine,” and his hand finds the bulge in your stomach, pressing down, as you keen, head falling back against his shoulder, as tears pooled in your pretty eyes, “but he’d never be able to reach here and fuck you like you want — like a whore,” his other hand pinches and teases your pebbled nipples, before sliding up to your neck, squeezing lightly, “say you’re mine,”

You can’t find the words, all of them fucked out of your body to make room for his cock seemingly — the only words remaining his name and “please,” but you have to do better than that, and he slows his pace to nothing, as he pulls out so only his tip teases your entrance, a whine leaving your pathetic mouth.

“If you’re not mine, guess I don’t need to let you finish, do I?” and you’re shaking your head, frantic and repentant.

“I’m yours, i’m yours, Sukuna, please—” and he’s sliding right back into you, fucking you harder, balls slapping against your ass and sweet cunt swallowing him up to the base, a white ring of your pre cum forming around it — and he just knows you’re close, by the twitch of your sweet pussy — and his hand reaches around to rub at your clit, “I’m—”

And he ruts into you, hard and deep that you’re sure his length brushes against your womb — and you’re cumming, falling apart around him, but he doesn’t relent — but had he ever? He didn’t relent over these past few weeks, and he wouldn’t now, not until he was filling you up and watching his cum drip out of your hole—

You’re slipping back forward, face forward into the pillow and mattress, as he grunts watching your slick drip down your ass and thighs and onto the sheets — his balls tense with his release, “Fuck—” and that’s all the warning you get before he slams back into you to bottom out, as he blows his load.

His release is hot as it fills you up, never ending it seems as he slowly fucks you through his orgasm, his spurts slowing with time, until he’s finally stilling, a soft grunt, as he pulls himself from inside your warm cunt. A soft groan at the sight of his seed spilling from inside you — you’re boneless and spent, until he has you jolting forward from the press of his fingers gathering his cum and stuffing it back in.

“Kuna, fuck, I can’t—” and he scoffs, retracting his fingers for a moment, before he’s deftly flipping you onto your back, “too sensitive,” you whine as his fingers work their way back into you.

“Did you think I was done, woman?” and his softening erection is already standing tall again, and you’re almost wanting his fingers now at this point, even as your body disagrees, pussy squeezing at the thought of him buried inside you again. He leans forward, lips brushing against yours, a kiss full of nothing of tongue and teeth, the faint taste of your own release on his lips, “we’re far from done.”

The sound of your name catches your attention, your eyes snapping up from your breakfast, “what?”

“Are you okay? Choso frowns at you, as he holds his rice bowl, the rolled tamago sliced on his plate, “you look tired,” It was another morning like always, but

You shake your head, “I just didn’t sleep well, I kept waking up from my dreams,” and it wasn’t exactly a lie — yesterday was the culmination of a million dreams you had. Dreams that only ended when the sun began to come up, with his cock still buried in your cunt as you rode him, back pressed to his chest, as he worked you up and down his dick.

And finally when he came again, this time all over your back, he finally pressed kisses up and down his back, easing himself out, as his toned arms engulfed you.

“Should clean up and I should head to Jin’s room,” he murmurs, “I have a feeling I won’t have a place to live if he finds me in here,” and you chuckle, too fucked out and tired, “we’ll have to get used to sneaking around.

“Oh will we?” you had mumbled, and he answered your question with another bruising kiss to your lips.

Yuji tilts his head, scratching it, as you lift your glass to take a sip of water, mouth far too dry now, “Is that what those noises were? It sounded like you were having nightmares,” and you nearly choke on it, but force it down, hoping the embarrassment wasn’t evident on your face, stabbing your egg.

“Yeah, I had a couple last night,” you lied, and even as you suddenly found your breakfast far too interesting, you could feel Choso’s gaze still on you — your cheeks burning as Sukuna’s words about him still rung in your ears — along with the distinct ache between your legs and on your ass he left behind, “I’m fine, I’m just going to need a nap,”

“You’re not the only one, girl,” Sukuna walks into the kitchen from the rooms, as Yuji and Choso balk at his presence.

Choso’s eyes narrow, “What are you doing here?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sukuna’s eyes find yours, the corner of his lip pulled upwards, as his gaze rakes over your form, “what’s for breakfast?” and you knew he only wished that you were the thing placed on the table for him to eat. Jin barely pays any mind, too preoccupied on his phone with his work email, as he passes a plate to Sukuna.

“When did you even get in?” Yuji asks, as he finishes his own breakfast, leaning back on his two palms. And your insides begin to tie themselves in knots at all of these questions — knowing Sukuna would like nothing more than to tell them exactly what he was doing last night.

“And where did you sleep?” Choso glares, adding fuel to the fire, as Sukuna looks down on him, lips a thin line, “you didn’t bother our guest, did you?” and your cheeks burn all the same, a flicker of amusement on Sukuna’s features, lips parting only for Jin to cut in.

“He got in early this morning. He slept in my room,” Jin says with a sigh, “Don’t you two have to get ready? You’re going to your mom’s this morning,”

“She��s not my mom,” Choso grumbles under his breath, “more like a leech,” but he still gets to his feet all the same, as Yuji follows suit, picking up their plates, a comforting hand on his older brother’s shoulder.

“I should get to work,” Jin sighs, sparing a sharp glance at his brother, “behave,” and he turns to you, “feel free to stay as long as you want. Yuji and Choso will be back this afternoon,”

And the three of them find their way out of the house, a rush of bags and feet, as Choso spares a glance at you.

“I’ll be back soon — you can hang out in my room if you want,” Choso says, before scowling at Sukuna, “let me know if you need anything,” and you nod, waving him off, and the door shuts behind them all.

Sukuna slides into place beside you, sitting as the two of you eat breakfast in relative silence. You finish up your meal, and move to get up, but Sukuna’s hand finds its way onto your thigh, holding you in place.

“Are you done?” and you glance at him, plate empty and food untouched, “with eating?”

“I am,” you raise an eyebrow, “And you?”

“My appetite wants something else, sweetheart,” he leans forward, fingers inching higher until his thumb grazes your inner thigh.

“And what’s that?” and he nearly growls his next words, thin patience already tearing in two, just as he would your clothes if you weren’t careful.

“I’m done playing coy, woman,” he’s lifting you with ease, slinging you over his shoulder as you gasp, and he’s gotten you on top of the counter, the very same counter you had baked cookies on the day he had arrived, but now his hulking body was quickly pressing your legs apart, “there’s only one thing I want to eat in this kitchen, and it’s between your fucking thighs.”

“Not sick of it yet?” you chuckle.

“Think I could bury myself in your slutty pussy for days and not get sick of it,” and he looms over you, just as he had that first day, and he leans down to kiss you, stealing the logic from your mind and leaving only the need for his touch behind, “it is the sweetest thing I ever tasted after all.”

“Really?” and he smirks, as his fingers dig into the fabric of your shorts ripping them and your panties down, the cool air against your already wet cunt.

“Want me to prove it?”

And oh, he would. Again and again.

✧ a/n: i have a problem. i really wanted to write something with degradation ok?

✧ taglist: , @k0z3me , @monstrousbuu , @abiiebibie , @strawmariee , @luciiferslover , @sxnkuna , @psychxbby , @addehehe , @cpu1d , @dreamtardisspace , @authorintheshadows666 , @arcielee , @trxnmagic , @smilk01 , @abcdbleh , @elisaj313-blog , @jinslunv , @n3ptunxe , @pinkyvomit , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @rat-loves , @spider-fan72 ,, @niks1673 , @lafffyyytafffyyy , @miseraa , @astraxa-xx , @fushitoru , @hanxyy , @milky-milkyway , @nakariabnrb , @johannakhalafalla , @tojicvmbucket , @flyingtranscatofeffed , @vampzys , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @k1ttybean , @catsgomurp , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @forest-fruits-jam , @mua-for-now , @pricetagofficial

#sab [mlist]#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna fanfiction #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna x you

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madaqueue · 26 days ago

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RECIPE FOR DISASTER — yuji itadori & ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

request | event masterlist | fluff : baking cookies

“no offense, yu, but literally what did you do?”

yuji pouts over the glass bowl, in it laying some combination of chocolate, sprinkles, and…goo.

“i don’t know! i swear i followed the recipe,” his lips curl into a frown, one that makes you giggle at the sight, like a puppy who didn’t get a treat he worked oh-so-hard for.

“he probably fucked it up by looking at it wrong.” your gaze shoots to sukuna, his legs idly kicking from where he’s perched atop the kitchen counter. reaching out to smack him for his indignance, he catches your wrist in the air. “and if you get flour on my shirt, you’ll be going in the dough next.”

with a grumble you pull back, instead offering yuji a comforting pat. “it’s okay, yu, it happens. maybe let’s just order something-”

“no!” you and sukuna freeze at the outburst, yuji’s cheeks turning pink. “no, we can do this, really! let’s just try one more time, please?”

and even though he rolls his eyes, sukuna mumbles a low “fine” as he hops down, black boots landing heavily on the hardwood floors. “but when this goes to shit, it’s your fault and you’re paying for our takeout.”

yuji’s smile grows impossibly wider as he sets the goo-bowl aside, already searching for another. rummaging through the cabinets, he sprawls ingredients across the table.

the three of you work in silence for a while: you, carefully measuring sugar and flour; yuji cracking the eggs; and sukuna off in the corner, mixing oil, butter, and vanilla. soft music plays from a speaker nearby, and for a moment it’s peaceful, until yuji’s voice breaks the silence:

“what the hell are you doing?”

“what am i doing?” sukuna challenges. “i’m doing what your stupid ass told me to do!”

over your shoulder, you turn to find the two of them bickering over their now-shared mixing bowl, holding a clumpy off-white mixture that looks distinctly non-edible.

“you didn’t mix it right, why does it look like that!” yuji exclaims.

“oh, so it’s my fault it’s wrong? you’re the one who doesn’t know how to crack a damn egg - there’s eggshells everywhere in here!”

“that’s not my fault, i swear there weren’t any like a second ago!”

you find sukuna’s gaze across the kitchen, mischief glimmering behind the crimson. “that’s not my problem, now is it, yuji?”

sliding yourself between them, you manage to catch a glimpse of their concoction, something that seems all too liquidy and solid for a cookie recipe.

“sukuna, what did you put in here?” you ask incredulously.

“i just did whatever he told me to - a quarter cup of oil, half a tablespoon of vanilla, and eight sticks of butter.”

you choke on your spit. “eight sticks of butter?”

“yep,” he smirks, crossing his arms. “that’s what yuji said.”

staring at the boy behind you, he smiles sheepishly. “that is what the recipe called for…”

grabbing the phone from him, you scroll through lengthy walls of text to find the culprit of this fiasco. at the very bottom of the page, the text glares back at you: “eight tablespoons of butter.”

“yuji.” you rub your eyes in disbelief. “eight tablespoons. that’s one stick of butter.”

“oh,” he shrinks, raising his shoulders apologetically. “oops.”

“told you it was your fault, you idiot-”

“and you,” you spin on your heel to face sukuna, finger pointed in accusation towards him. “you knew the recipe was wrong and you did it anyways!”

leaning forward, you smell the vanilla wafting off his skin. “i was just doing what i was told, sweetheart.”

shoving him away, your hand leaves a flour-white imprint on his black cotton t-shirt, one you’ll surely be forced to clean later. but he doesn’t get angry - instead, sukuna lets out the biggest, bellowing laugh, one that electrifies the air and shakes the cupboards. it’s a laugh that vibrates in your chest as you join in, ruffling yuji’s hair as he begins to giggle.

the absurdity and joy overtakes you; you laugh until your ribs hurt, and yuji smiles at you. “i’ll get the takeout menus,” he grins, and in the tiny kitchen, all you feel is warmth.

a/n: samara, my most beloved dear samara - i love you so much and i'm so happy to have met you :') thank you for loving our silly stupid boys with me, thank you for letting me scream and rant abt things to you, thank you for making this little online space one that i cherish so much <3 I LOVE YOUUUUU and i hope you enjoy this :33

#press snowflakes in a book like flowers ❆꙳•❅#q writes #drabbles #yuji itadori #itadori yuji #yuji itadori x reader #itadori yuji x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #yuji itadori fluff #sukuna fluff

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 5 months ago

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❤️‍🔥4 and 6 with Luke Hughes maybe?

Hi, I hope you don't mind I changed this to Quinn. I don't write smut for Luke Hughes because he's just a little too young for me.

200 Followers Celebration

"Swallow it All of it." "suck on it."

Quinn and you had decided to take the boat out with just you two. Although both the other Hughes brothers did have a small protest about but for different reasons. Jack said he was scared of what we would do by ourselves. While Luke, was more annoyed that you packed the rest of cookies you made the other day, upset that you were taking the rest with no promise of baking more soon.

Quinn who is usually much nicer, respectfully told his brothers to fuck off as he was grabbing your hand boat keys already in his hand almost dragging you to the boat. The laugh that leaves your lips, almost turns in to wheezing as you have tears in your eyes as Luke follows you out begging to at least have one going as far as climbing on the boat while Quinn is getting ready to turn on the engine.

"moose if she promises to make more will you please get off the fucking boat so we can leave."

"Promise." You swear you've never heard someone more serious in his life, that was until you heard Quinn.

"You heard him."

"Yes Luke I'll make you more." you promise once you get your laughter under control from the antics of your boyfriend and his brothers. With that, Luke was off the boat as fast as he got on heading back into the house.

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

As Quinn was driving the boat and you sat next to him. Quinn still a little annoyed at both his little brothers couldn't help but mention Jack's comment.

"I really can't believe Jack sometimes. Like your "scared" of what WE will do in the boat. As if I don't know for a damn fact he's done shit on this very boat the ONE time I let him take his girl only on the boat last summer." Although you loved Quinn, you hated when he would get fixated on someone's small comment because sometimes he really had a hard time moving on with his day.

That's when like a lightbulb an idea popped into your head. "You know." as your hand goes to reach for Quinn's upper thigh. "we could always make Jack's 'worst fear' as he called it a reality." With each word your hand creeping up more and more. You could feel under your hand Quinn's leg stiffening at your touch.

"baby I'm driving." he tried to reason with you.

"I know but what I'm thinking of what you can still be driving for."

"what's that?" his curiosity winning in the moment.

"have you ever had road head while driving this?" you asked but it came out more as a suggestion. Quinn snapped his head towards you in shock. He was at a loss for words but that only encouraged you more as you stood up, and bent down next to his seat.

"you wanna suck me off here. In the open, where anyone can see." He asked looking down at you, as he slowly brought the boat to a stop to have this conversation.

"well no one is around and wouldn't you like to get even with Jack after last summer Quinny." Batting your lashes back at him.

"fine but I'm not moving driving while you do it. too dangerous."

A small pout forms on your face but he gives you the famous, Quinn "I am not changing my mind" Hughes look. So you decide to just smile you as he turns in his seat to face you. Moving your hands to his waist band of his swim trunks. You quickly help him slip out his semi.

"Well if you don't wanna drive I can think of something else we can do." You suggest as you look up at him through your lashes.

"no. you said you'd suck my dick so suck on it." his dominance coming out, turning you on more than you already were.

Looking up to him as you slip him into your mouth, as quickly as you can. As Quinn lets his next comment slip, lost on the pleasure you're giving him. "And you better swallow All of it or you're gonna be a begging mess when I delay your orgasm later."

#200 followers celebration #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #schwritingsqh43

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marvelslut16 · 3 months ago

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Field Day

Prompt number: 27 "Let me remind you"

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Teacher!Bucky x teacher!reader (no use of y/n)

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 1.1k+

Warnings: Swearing, a stupid hr policy based off a policy at one of my jobs, a horny woman at work, I think that's it.

A/N: Hi, hello, it's been ages since I posted a fic, and this is 2 days late late. I really really want to participate again this year, but I have 2 jobs now and I have some other important things happening this month, so I won't have much time to write. But without further ado, here is day 1!

“Let me remind you that we aren’t allowed to date coworkers,” you sigh, as Peggy tells you that you should finally give into your work crush and go on a date with Bucky.

Bucky is the sweetest soul you have ever met, he’s a little shy but once he warms up to you he’s just a giant teddy bear who will do whatever he can to make your life easier. He’s been your work crush for about a year now, when he switched from second to fourth grade, the grade you teach. Now you have department meetings together, teach science labs together, and go on field trips together. His sweet personality and the forced proximity made it impossible not to develop a work crush on him.

“Technically we can date coworkers, it’s just frowned upon,” Peggy tries to play devil’s advocate, hoping that her friends will finally get over themselves and go on a date.

“Oh yes, Bucky and I can date so long as we report it to HR the moment we go on a date, and they can still decide to fire one or both of us,” you roll your eyes and give your best friend a look before turning back to the playground to watch the kids. “Isn’t that why you waited to start dating Steve until he went to teach at the military academy.”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Peggy giggles, just as Bucky lets his kids out his classroom door to join yours and Peggy’s for field day.

“What are you two gals talking about,” Bucky saunters over to where you're standing near enough to the playground to see the kids, but far enough from them that they can’t hear what you're saying.

“I was telling her that she should start packing her lunch instead of going out on Wednesday and Friday, much healthier. And obviously, she called me on the fact that Steve sends me lunch from restaurants most of the week,” Peggy smoothly lies. It’s a decent enough fib, but if you were Bucky you wouldn’t believe her.

So where did you end up getting stuck for field day?” you ask Bucky, he was sick the day of sign ups no doubt being stuck with the worst job.

“The dunk tank, damn Stevie leaving the school and leaving me with this stupid job,” Steve always volunteered to do the dunk tank, and now that he’s gone the entire staff quickly snapped up every other position. “What do you have this year?”

“The inflatable obstacle course,” you grin widely, you’d been petitioning the PTA to allocate funds to rent one for field day for the past three years now.

“I told you you could convince those parents to let you rent one, and the kids are going to love it!” you can’t help but blush at his praise.

“Third times the charm,” you give him a small bashful smile.

“I’m in charge of dodgeball in the gym,” Peggy cuts in, reminding you that you aren’t alone and have an audience of almost a hundred kids as more classes spill out of their rooms.

Soon enough the three of you go your separate ways and get field day started. Like every year, the day flies with minimal complaining from the kids, lots of laughing, and just a few scrapes and bruises. The kids all loved your addition to the course this year, all cheering in excitement when they get to your station. Before you know it your class is back at your station and field day is wrapping up, so you take the kids to the refreshments table to grap a dixie cup off gatorade and a cookie.

“Oh dear god,” you murmur under your breath, catching Peggy’s attention as she walks up to the table with her class.

Bucky’s also walking up to the refreshment table sopping wet, black t-shirt and basketball shorts clinging to his rock hard physique. Bucky is an attractive man, anyone who disagreed was either lying or blind, so this wasn’t a new revelation to you by any means. But knowing he has abs is one thing, but seeing his shirt clinging to them is a completely different one. Your heart starts to hammer harder and harder the closer he gets to you, damn Peggy had to get in your head about your crush earlier and you’re on the edge of throwing caution to the wind, and yourself at him.

“What were those rules again,” Peggy whispers, giggling in your ear.

“Can’t remember,” your voice trails off just like your thoughts. It’s unreal and unfair that Bucky could be as nice and as drop dead gorgeous as he is. No man could ever live up to him, and you pity everyone that dares to try.

“Only one person dunked me, and it was one of yours,” Bucky says gruffly, the twinkling in his eyes gives away his humor and pride in the student.

“One of mine?” you grin from ear to ear, your own pride showing at your student. One of your little fourth headers was able to dunk him, when the older kids couldn’t. “Who was it?”

“Me!” Brayden, your secret favorite student, hollers from behind you.

“Way to go Brayden!” you exclaim, the rest of your class cheering as you give him a high five.

“It was hilarious,” Luke, one of Bucky’s students pipes up. “We were at the human wheelbarrow station next to the dunk tank and we saw everything! One minute he was on the seat, and the next he was coming up from the water coughing on it.”

“Are you okay, Mr. Barnes?” you giggle, turning to look at him. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes on his, something the other female staff aren’t doing themselves.

“I will be, once my ego heals,” your two classes laughing at his joke.

“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I’m making my chili that you love so much,” you ask Bucky when the kids are out of hearing range. Peggy stares at you wide eyed, it’s like she can hear your inner monologue, in awe of your bravery and taking this chance.

“I would love to,” Bucky has a soft smile on his face, like he’s sensing that everything is about to change for the better. Fuck HR, and fuck this job if it keeps you from being happy and with the man of your dreams. As long as you have Bucky everything will be okay, and you’ll both land on your feet eventually, even if it means finding a new district.

#fictober24 #fictober 2024 #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #teacher au #teacher!bucky barnes #teacher!bucky x reader

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thevoidstaredback · 7 months ago

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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

The first thing on the day's agenda was to make breakfast. Now, Dick wouldn't exactly call himself a chef, and Alfred's banning him from the Manor kitchen can attest to that, but he'd been cooking meals for himself since he moved out. Were they edible? Yes. Did they taste good? Sometimes. He'll get better! He swears! He just needs some practice.

Danny was in the kitchen before Dick was even awake, apparently, because the kid was flipping a pancake onto a plate. "Good morning!" he said.

"Um, morning," Dick responded.

"I hope you don't mind, but I made pancakes for breakfast."

"No, I don't mind- I'm supposed o making you food, though."

"Why?"

"Because I'm an adult."

A soft snort. "Barely."

"Hey!"

Danny shrunk in on himself, shoulders hunched and head down. He turned off the stove, set the hot pan to the side, and properly plated the pancakes, giving Dick more. "Sorry. I, um, don't have much of a filter in the mornings."

"It's alright," Dick made sure his body language, expression, and voice were all soft. "Not a morning person?"

"Not in the slightest."

He took a bite. "So why're you awake?" He paused before taking another bite. "These are really good."

"Thanks," Danny looked away with a small blush on his cheeks. "I'm here to help you. Part of that includes making sure you eat in the mornings before work."

"You know you don't have to, right?"

"I know, but I want to." He took a few bites of his own breakfast. "From my own experiences, not eating before starting the day can make you really sick, especially if you have a demanding job like you do."

Now isn't that a red flag to add to the growing collection. "You're own experiences?"

"Yeah," Danny said between slow bites, "My parents weren't good cooks unless it was my dad's fudge or my mom's cookies. My sister tried, but, well, she could only do so much with what we had."

"So, where'd ya learn to cook?"

"My friend's parents taught me a few things when I was over at their place."

"Cool, cool."

"Yeah."

Silence took over the apartment as they two finished eating. Despite Danny's protests, Dick insisted on doing the dishes because Danny had cooked. Then, they two set about getting for the day.

Truthfully, Dick didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. Danny was going to be alone in his apartment all day with nothing to do! A kid's worst nightmare, that is. Sure there are some books in his room, but would Danny like them? More things to figure out.

Danny met Dick at the door just as he was set to leave and handed him some paperwork.

"What's this?" Dick asked.

"Your hour cut request."

"My what?"

"I told you that you need to cut back your working hours from fifty a week to forty. Give that to your boss today."

"And if I don't?" He raised his eyebrow in question. Cutting back his hours would probably be a good thing, but someone else would have to take that time from him. He didn't want to put that work on anyone!

Danny's eyes started to water, going wide and sad as he looked Dick in the eye. "Then I'll be sad." He sniffled for affect. "Do you really wanna make me sad?"

Damn it.

Danny had no intentions of staying home all day. In fact, he fully planned on shadowing Dick some more, just closer this time. Partly to check out his relationships with his coworkers, but also to make sure he actually submitted his appeal. He also was going to make sure the chef approved it, but what Dick didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Part 6 Part 8

Tag List: @flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581 @blueliac @talia-scar123 @cyber-geist @violet-foxe @currentfandomkick @jaguarthecat @moonchild0924 @tonicmii @bushbees @idekwutoput @justalittleghostkid

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 days ago

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Bother Me – Glen Powell

I knocked on his door and nervously waited. I shook my head when I realized I was always doing this. Whenever something goes wrong or needs fixing in my apartment, I go to my neighbor, Glen Powell.

Back when I first moved in next door to Glen, he wasn't a big actor yet. He'd had smaller roles but nothing that made him noticed. We became friends in the laundry room when I asked to borrow one of his dryer sheets. We ran into each other a week later and I gave him a dryer sheet to pay him back. We quickly found that we always do laundry on the same night.

"Hey, Y/N," Glen smiled as he opened his door. "What's up?"

"Sorry to bother you," I sighed, "but I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Anything."

"One of the light bulbs in my fan is out and I can't get the cover off," I explained.

"Easy," he smiled. He left his apartment and followed me back to my apartment. I showed him what fan I was talking about and watched as he removed the cover, changed the light bulb, and put the cover back on.

"Thanks for doing this, Glen," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I swear I'm not as helpless as I come off."

"You're not helpless," he said gently as he climbed down the ladder.

"I come to you all the time for stupid little things," I shrugged. "I bet it's annoying."

"It's not," he said gently. "I really don't mind coming over to help you."

"If it ever gets annoying, please let me know."

I gasped when he leaned in and kissed my cheek. "I will never have to because it will never get annoying."

* * * * *

Even though Glen tried to reassure me that my always asking him for help wasn't annoying, I was still insecure about it. So, I refused to ask him for help. It lasted a week before I eventually did need his help.

I searched through my bag, saying several swear words under my breath as I tried to remember where I put my keys.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" I jumped, instantly making Glen feel bad. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's not you," I sighed. "It's just. . . It's been a day and I'm pretty sure I either left my keys in my desk at work or on the table right on the other side of this door."

"Well," he smiled, "good news is that you gave me your spare key last year. Give me one second to pop into my place and I'll grab it."

As we ran into his apartment, I wrapped my arms around myself. He quickly came back and smiled at me before unlocking my door.

"Your home, madam," he said, jokingly opening the door for me.

"Thank you," I sighed. "Seriously, Glen. Thank you."

I walked into my apartment and instantly found my keys right on the small table I have by the door.

"And here they are. Right by the door," I sighed as I grabbed them. I turned back toward Glen, my face burning. "I'm really sorry, Glen. I don't know why I'm so helpless."

"It's okay," he smiled. I swear, this guy is always smiling. "I already told you; I don't mind."

"But I do," I mumbled. I looked up to see him studying me. I cleared my throat before saying, "Thanks again, Glen. I won't keep you from your Friday night plans."

I sent him a smile before closing the door. Right as I closed the door, I heard him mumble, "I didn't have any plans."

* * * * *

A few hours later, I started making cookies for my book club tomorrow night but I didn't check if I had all my ingredients. When I grabbed the salt, I instantly groaned. My first thought should've been to run to the small grocery store around the corner but it wasn't. My first thought was to ask Glen.

I couldn't help but fix my shirt before leaving my apartment and heading to Glen's. I held my breath as I waited for him to open the door.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiled instantly.

"Sorry to bother you. . . Again, but I was wondering if. . ."

"Bother me."

"What?"

"Bother me," he repeated. "I love it when you bother me. It never bothers me."

I smiled when he cringed at how cheezy that sounded. But I loved it.

"I just mean," he tried to save himself, "that I like that you need me. It's been a while since someone has needed me."

"It's been a while since I've trusted someone enough to need them," I said, my voice soft. Glen smiled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his chest.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I do," I whispered back. He leaned in and pressed his lips gently to mine. As I kissed him back, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He instantly wrapped his arms around my waist.

"You needed something," Glen said, breaking the kiss.

"Oh," I said, my voice still soft. "Right. Um, I was going to see if you had any salt."

"I do," he chuckled. "What are you making?"

"Cookies for my book club," I explained, my face turning slightly pink.

"That's fun," he said, reaching up and moving some hair out of my face. "You need an extra pair of hands?"

"I could use some help," I shrugged. I grabbed his hand and started pulling him to my apartment. He pulled back, turning me around. I started to ask what was wrong but his smile reassured me.

"We forgot the salt," he chuckled. He gave me a quick kiss before jogging back into his apartment.

I took a shaky breath as I waited. My mind went all over the place as I thought about what this could mean for us. We officially weren't just neighbors anymore. . . Right?

"You okay?"

I hadn't noticed him come back. "Yeah," I said, clearing my throat. "Just. . . overthinking."

"Overthinking?" He asked, his smile dropping. "About what, gorgeous?"

"Us?"

As soon as that word left my lips, I was worried about his reaction. Instead of getting angry or hurt, Glen took a step closer to me. He leaned in and gave me a slow and soft kiss. We broke the kiss, both of us out of breath. He leaned his forehead against mine as I anxiously waited for him to say something.

"There is nothing to overthink about us, Y/N," he whispered. "I have been obsessed with you since we first met. I want to give this a try."

"Really?" I asked as I leaned back.

"Really," he smiled. He chuckled before adding, "I should be honest with you. I only did my laundry on Thursdays that first night we met. I went back the next week, hoping to run into you again. When you told me you do laundry every Thursday night, I started doing mine every Thursday. And not that I've said that out loud, I realize how creepy and stalkerish that is."

"No, it's not," I smiled. "It's extremely sweet."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on my toes, and kissed him. He smiled against my lips as he held me close to him. We broke apart with small giggles when we heard the oven in my apartment beep.

"Sorry to bother you," I said softly, "but any chance you can help me make cookies for my book club?"

#glen powell #glen #powell #glen powell fanfic #glen powell imagines #tyler owens #twisters

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lohotine · 9 months ago

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AN: My parents walked into my room midway of me making this and asked me what I was doing- 😰 Um... enjoy?

Part 2:

https://www.tumblr.com/shmolish/746719597375504384/hi-read-your-um-possessive-shadow-milk-x-reader?source=share

Shadow Milk Cookie x GN! Reader

Oneshot (1/2)

Warnings: Suggestive scenes, marking, possessiveness, mild swearing. MINORS, DNI.

-Jealousy, jealousy-

You had been talking to someone new at the theater. They were naturally charming, and you couldn't help but laugh at their jokes, and smile at how they spoke.

He was obviously in love with you, but for some reason, you didn't notice.

Those hungry eyes should be obvious to anybody, though.

Little did you know, someone else had been watching the entire time.

A certain blue jester, gazing and silently hating from afar.

He knew he could make you laugh so much harder, smile so much wider... Make you feel so much better.

Surely you hadn't forgotten about him.. right?

If you did... he would just have to remind you.

You were finished talking to that person soon enough, and Shadow Milk took this as the perfect opportunity to reunite with you!

"Hello doll. Been having fun without me?" He had that normal smile on his face, like he always did. To any normal person, it would look like nothing was amiss...

But something was very wrong.. The fact that you were talking and smiling with somebody else. And the way he looked at you with those eyes- Shadow Milk Cookie absolutely despised it.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that." You would just smile awkwardly.

"Say... who exactly was he?" Shadow Milk would ask while taking your hand. He just started walking somewhere with you.

"Oh, just a guy I met today. He's pretty funny," you explained.

Shadow Milk nodded his head before quickly shoving both of you into a janitor closet.

"Ack, what are you-" Shadow Milk Cookie put a finger infront of your lips, promptly sushing you. His old smile was replaced with a more sinister and stern look.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He would take both of your hands and pin them above your head, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he moved closer to it.

"What is this for..?" You'd ask him, breath hitching as he sent butterfly kisses along the side of your neck.

"Doll, you're so oblivious that it hurts."

You could feel him begin to nip at the skin on your neck.

"You seriously didn't notice how he was looking at you?"

You would let out some quiet mewls before responding.

"I guess not-"

He bit down hard on your neck, to which you immediately whined at.

"Doll, you have to be quiet. I know you can take it~ And besides, you wouldn't want someone to hear us, right?" He would ask teasingly. You knew he had that shit-eating grin on his face.

You would shake your head and try your best to stay quiet.

"Struggling, are we? I don't see why. I've been much rougher with you before..."

He would continue sucking and biting at your neck, leaving you no time to rest.

"I guess it's entertaining though."

He moved his other free hand to slowly trail down your side, only stopping to be placed firmly around your waist. He pulled your bodies closer together, yet to him, it was never quiet close enough.

At this point, you were practically melted under his touch, and your legs were trembling.

He had told you time and time again to not be so loud... but it really couldn't be helped.

Purple and red bite marks were dotted all over you neck. There was no hiding all of them..

Shadow Milk would take his knee and nudge between your legs slightly.

"Dove, why don't we take this to the bedroom?

Fin ☆

Uh, if you guys want more, just request- 👀

#my parents would be so disappointed in me #why am I like this?#hes a cookie...#my friends think im werid #cookie run kingdom #crk #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom oneshot #oneshot #shadow milk cookie oneshots #shadow milk cookie crk #cookie run #shadow milk cookie cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie smut #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader oneshot #shadow milk cookie spicy #smut

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eatommo · 2 years ago

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All is Fair [d.d]

Summary: A heated argument lets emotions, and confessions come to the surface.

CW: din djarin/female reader, the helmet stays on, angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, confessions of love, din leaves bruises on her, marking kink, rough sex, d/s dynamics, use of pet names, p in v, creampie, mentions of gambling/bets, mando'a, oral (m reciving) (I probably missed some sorry)

a/n: This is a little messy, I'm just falling so hard again and need to get some of my own pining out. enjoy :)

You swear you hear the creak of his gloves tightening around your arm, “I told you to stay inside the ship.” His fingers are thick and robust as they dig into your flesh, properly leaving your skin purple. Helmet sweeping side to side he scans the crowd for someone showing too much interest, “The imps have eyes everywhere, you're going to get us killed.”

“Right. Because you’re an average man walking around, definitely not inside your own fucking casket.” His grip gets impossibly tighter, and he stops in his tracks, halting your movement completely. The adrenaline in your body peaks as his blank, concealed, stare fixes on your face.

“You’re tiresome. Did you know that?” His voice is pure vitriol, you’ve never seen him so angry. “I don’t care if I get killed but you can’t be bringing the kid out for a dessert run.”

“It was his idea!” Deep down you know he’s right, but being cooped up in the crest for weeks has made you all antsy, and the kid was very persuasive. “We didn’t just get cookies.” You try and keep your tone even, emotions mounting in your throat. “I got some bacta, and a new compressor for the carbonite chamber.” His posture is iron, shoulders, and head still as a rock and you trail off.

“You could’ve told me to get those things.” He turns away from you and pulls you back towards the ship. There are several coos and cries from the pouch now snug to dins hip and covered by his skewed cape. “You can’t let the baby tell you what to do.”

He’s been nothing but kind to you, and although you hate him confronting you he would’ve gotten anything you asked for, he always has. “You’re right, I’m sorry, but you don’t need to scold me like a child.”

His hand loosens slightly as if he is becoming conscious of hurting you, as he practically shoves you forward with his body while you instinctually resist. “This isn’t the first time you haven’t listened to me.”

You set your jaw, swallowing more bitter words, and scan the crowd with him, slightly turning your head every few steps to get a glimpse of people behind you, just like he taught you. Miraculously, you make it to the hangar without another bitter word.

Even as he pays the balance of the ship repairs his hand doesn’t leave its place on your arm, the man glancing between the two of you suspiciously. Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, and you begin to feel like a scruffed loth cat. “Do you have to drag me by my bones?!” You twist your arm in an attempt to escape, but all it does is shoot lightning through your arm down to your wrist.

He remains silent until he practically throws you onto the ramp of the ship. To further your shame, you trip and fall to your knees scraping them both on the rough texture of the ramp. With a huff and barely-kept tears, you storm up the ramp and drop the sack of supplies on a crate, heading straight to the fresher for a rinse in the shower, in a desperate effort to collect yourself.

The ship takes off in no time with a lurch and the immediate hum of hyperspace envelops the crest. Only then, do you feel safe enough to let out a choked frustrated sob. The cry is relatively quick, and the water does wonders for the tight knot of the new bruise on your arm, but not quite the cleansing of your heart you were praying for.

You rinse the soap from your hair rigorously and not kindly, in an attempt to shake the need for these bruises to linger until they faded without the use of bacta. He would think you were being ridiculous, he might even taunt you about being young and dumb if he found out how you felt about him. You’d be lying if these weren’t tears of heartbreak, he embarrassed and chastised you in front of crowds of people and practically dragged you halfway across town.

Yet, you found yourself wanting to seek him for comfort. Longing for the long nights of telling him about your childhood on bespin, and the comfort of his laugh as he gave you a simple story about the fighting corps that had your eyes full of admiration and bewilderment. He had been kind and soft and protective. Today was the first time you remember him being so assertive with you, with enemies and bounties yes, but never to you.

Maybe it was time for you to take off. The thought felt like a slap on the cheek, and you bite your lips as you swipe across the ripped flesh of your knee. It is not a terrible scrape, but the skin is tender and bruised around the minor cuts. You wanted him to apologize, and you wanted him to see you bleed, you knew he’d feel terrible, he stepped on your foot last week and apologized three times.

Stepping out of the shower you realize that in your rush to the refresher, you didn’t grab a pair of clothes. Swearing to yourself, you take a look at your dirty clothes from earlier. They're caked in sand, and rather than put them on you’ll wrap yourself in -shit- his towel. Sending a prayer to the maker, whoever she may be, you open the doors and set your gaze on the floor towards your bunk and set course confidently. Unaware he is watching intently from the container you left your sack on until his boots are in your vision.

He hears the squeak die in your throat and watches your heart race as he scans your near-naked frame with his visor. His breath catches in his throat at the sight, his hand still radiating warmth from holding your skin even with his gloved hand. He wanted you, and his body responded to the small friction of your body against his front like he was a teenager. Then he starts picking up on the scrape on your knees, and the swell of a bruise on your left arm. As your heart leaps into your throat, he drops to the floor on his knees, he hurt you. In his scared frustration, he scolded and towed you around like a misbehaving massiff.

This is where his career failed him, he could de-escalate a bar fight, but he had heard apologizing to a woman was not easy, especially when he so desperately needed you to forgive him. Not to mention the beautiful distraction of his cock twitching in his pants as he settles on your face, trying not to think about your skin smelling like him. “Focus.” Fuck. Did he just say that out loud?

“What did you just say?” You take a larger step forward, your leg peaks out of the wrap of the towel, wrath keeping you from caring. “I always admired your bravery, and now I’m wondering where all the audacity came from.”

He stammers, modulator picking up his sharp confused gasp, “No. I mean-”.

You don’t give him the chance to finish. “I want to go home.” The words dry your tongue to ash. But his posture goes rigid again, and for the first time since you met, you’re afraid of him.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” As a wave crashes over him, he resets. His shoulders slumped over, and the helmet hanging as if he is adverting his eyes. You watch with bated breath as he reaches up in a familiar movement, flicking through types of vision processors in his helmet, and your blood turns cold.

With a fluid movement, he guides your hand to his shoulder with his free hand and reaches for your calf with the other, pulling your leg free to examine the scuff on your knee.

You misread him and in your panic pull away, falling over your own feet his grip catches you as your towel parts to reveal almost your entire body to him. He’s standing slightly, having to abandon his seat in his efforts to catch you. The helmet snaps to your eyes, and then to the wall beside you as he stands you up.

You take a step back while adjusting your towel and holding it closer to you. “I’m mad that you treated me like a child.” He keeps his eyes trained on the wall, “I shouldn’t-”

“I panicked, I was worried.” He is defensively talking over you, but also afraid to tell you of his feelings for you so his voice is low.

“Be carted through the city on a leash like some misbehaving whore.” The words are pouring out of you as if coating your tongue with honey as they crack across his bleeding heart, far too much happening too fast as he scrambles to catch up.

“I want to go home.” You say it again, but this time it's less convincing as he comes to rest on his knees in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” He creeps pathetically closer to you, resting back onto his feet and leaning the forehead of his helm against your stomach seeking comfort that's more intimate than you’ve ever offered. “I’m not good at these things.” He shifts again, this time looking toward your face until just the chin of the visor is digging into the skin of your abdomen, “I’ve never had the chance to look after something I’ve cared about so much.” His voice although clear is quiet, shy even, “I was so scared I didn’t even think until I saw you set the bacta on the crate.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, tears slipping down your face wordless as you watch him grovel, you must be dreaming.

“Ni ceta.” His heart aches in time with the throbbing pain of his knees on the floor, and for the first time since pridefully placing his helm on his head, he wishes he could abandon it at your feet.

Everything he does is intense, he is fiercely protective, he is lethal, and you might even describe him as passionate when it comes to his creed. The child, who you assume is somewhere sleeping, was possibly the most fiercely protected baby in the galaxy. Having come to know him over the last few months, you wondered how he ever survived on his own, he cherished the companionship the two of you have brought and he always seems to welcome your antics, often at his expense. Like a light in a dim alley, the conclusion flickers in your brain, it's the only thing that makes sense.

“I’m sorry I brought him into danger.” You clear your throat, unable to look away from the dim reflection of yourself in his visor. “I’m just feeling a little like a prisoner.”

He says that unfamiliar phrase again, “Ni ceta, mesh’la.” [I kneel, gorgeous] In what you assume is Mando’a, “I will do better.” Your hands twitch at your side, as you fight the urge to caress his head.

“Okay.” You give a reserved nod, the ice in your heart melted and you feel as vulnerable as ever. “Is the kid asleep?”

Mando gives a soft hum, “He ate a few cookies and then promptly collapsed in his pram in the cockpit.” You realize his voice is hoarse but he clears it, “Can I give you some bacta, and make you some caf? I know you won't forgive me right away.” He trails off, as the glint of his helm holds your stare.

“I’m not upset with you anymore, you don’t need to get anything for me, I can still walk just fine.” A small giggle erupts from your chest, surprising the two of you. There he is.

He stands but doesn’t do anything but lean back slightly, “I want to. I feel terrible.” You take a step back as he stands, he speaks in a hushed tone, “I’d carry you around if that’s what you’d wanted.”

There’s a glitch in your brain he doesn’t miss, and it's hard to ignore the small sound that you make, suddenly he’s thankful for the privacy of the helmet and the loose-fitting fabric of his flight suit. “Is it what you want?” This is an interaction he is slightly more comfortable with, albeit a little rusty.

You clear your throat and shake your head as if the intrusive thoughts will fade with the harsh movement. “Yes and no.” You settle on a bit of honesty while also playing coy. “Who doesn’t want to be carried around by a big strong mysterious man? It’s every girl's dream.”

“Maybe I should add that to the list of services I provide.” He is leaning up against the walls of your bunk, subconsciously blocking you from abandoning the conversation and seeking the warmth and privacy in your bunk.

“We probably would make a killing. But I wouldn’t want you to…” You trail off, not initially liking what the taunting was morphing into, but what the hell? “To carry anyone but me if I am honest.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to?” He’s tasting the sweetness of your confession on his tongue, processing it while trying to keep the tone light.

“I want you to want to do those things outside of guilt.” The conversation is far past smooth, nothing like the holodramas you’ve imagined the two of you a part of. “I want you to like spending time with me.”

“I do feel guilty, but I would do these things for you regardless, and I do like spending time with you. We both do, or I wouldn’t fight so hard to keep you here.” There’s an air of caution in his statement, he’s scared of rushing headfirst into his adoration of you and scaring you, even if his face is protected in his bashful admission.

“You do?” You squint an eye at him as if scanning him through your own tech-clad helmet. “Are we on the same page?” You chew on your lip, analyzing his cool, relaxed posture before settling on his pitch-black visor again, in the flicker of your heart you know he’s meeting your stare. “I like you.”

His chest rises sharply with an inhale as if he’s been injured and you quickly try and find a way to backpedal out of this conversation. “Well, maybe we aren’t. I was going to say I’m in love with you.”

If you didn’t know the child was asleep, you would’ve thought he was pushing you toward his dad. There was a tug at your heart and you rush to embrace him, met with the cool metal against your bare skin. Your instinct calls for you to kiss him, and you want to terribly, but you’re unsure of what his customs allow.

You let your hands search for the gaps in his armor, looking for warmth and settling right below the gusset of armor on his back and squeeze him so impossibly tight he groans contently. “This feels so weird, I’m sorry I don’t know what to do.” Your cheeks heat, and he chuckles.

“What are you trying to do?” He finally seems to have settled into the space in front of you, a pliant but also stiff bundle of warmth juxtaposed by the cool faces of his beskar plates. “I can take the armor off if you’re trying to get comfortable.”

“I know how to do it, I just don’t know if I’m allowed to. I want to kiss you Mando…” The bashfulness in the way you bury your face into the crook of his arm, makes his heart skip to an unfamiliar beat in his chest.

“I can take everything but the helmet off, I would eventually. I’m not ready for that.” Now he’s the insecure one, how could you want to be with him without seeing him? “I know it’s not ideal, I’m sorry.”

You sense the insecurity right away, and rather than letting it fester in his always-thinking brain, you do your best to soothe his worries with a caress and a change of subject. “Everything else you say?” Lifting your brow, you hook the rim of his chest plate with your fingernail, separating it slightly from its place. “I can wait for the helmet,” you look up through your eyelashes, “ I want to feel you.”

Lacing your fingers through his, you stroke the palm of his hand silently asking for permission to remove them. He nods slowly, and you slide beneath the fabric slowly revealing the tanned, callused skin. Human skin.

You remove the other glove, letting your fingers soak in his radiating warmth. Drawing long slow circles on his palms, you search for his approval but his head is fixed on your hands in his. He is rigid and his posture is stiff, as if afraid if he moves you’ll stop.

Every nerve in his body is alight, he’s practically vibrating as you run your fingers along his skin, your hands are cold and feel wonderfully soft. It takes everything not to whine when you go to take his vambraces off and the comfort of your touch is ripped away from him.

“I don’t know how to do this.” You admit, well aware of the whistling birds that are more than dangerous and you're afraid to set them off. He laughs nervously, and you’re leaning so close to his face that you can almost hear the air without the modulator.

“It’s safe.” He reaches over and shows you how to remove the armor. As you lift it away you motion for him to remove the other one while you get to work on his chest plate. The heavy metal plate joins the rest of it in a compartment to his left, and you lay your hands flat on the broad plain of his chest.

He moves, remembering his strength, and tilts your elbow until your hand is resting on the zipper hidden beneath the collar of his cape. Working in tandem, he removes his cuirass as you unzip his flight suit.

Your vision rakes over the ripple of his muscles, a few bruises and scars mark his skin, and you without thinking lean in and leave an open-mouthed kiss over a yellow bruise on his left peck. This time you are close enough to hear the whine that escapes from beneath the helmet in time with his posture going slack with a flood of goosebumps on his skin.

The noises go straight to your core, the idea of this hard exterior broken by a hint of your mouth on his chest is enough of an invite to step closer. Slotting between his feet, you press your mouth to the center of his sternum, chasing it as he flinches away from your cold hands brushing against his lower stomach before curling into the fabric to pull him tight against you.

He steps back, maneuvering around the crate and leaning against the wall behind it so he can slot his thigh between your legs gently inviting you to grind against the cool metal plate, only separated by an ever-falling towel his brain scrambles, only thinking about how your mouth feels hot against his skin and wondering what you taste like.

You lean harder into him, feeling the weight of his cock dig into your stomach and trying to focus on nibbling on the tight muscle of his shoulder as the fabric of his flight suit falls off his shoulders. You hear a loud clang as he throws his head back, likely breaking something behind him, when you dig in your teeth and suck hard on one of his collarbones. You suckle and kitten lick at the same time, the groans and shivers only provoke you further, only pulling away when your lips start to feel swollen.

He’s thankful again for the privacy of his helmet, as frustrating as it is to not return the favor he can’t seem to regain control of his limbs and jaw, everything going slack as he fights the urge to rut against your body like a horny teenager.

The weight of what's left of his armor is dragging the thick fabric to the floor, revealing the rich sculpted muscles of his abdomen and the tortuously scandalous dip of his hip bones. The dull ache of your jaw is ignored as you trail down his warm skin, laving across his nipples as you take your time kissing him, tasting the salt of his skin.

You blow across the trail of kisses, knowing that the air will feel cold and feeling a little dauntless. A shiver rolls through him, bringing his hips forward as if begging for your attention. His cock struggles against the fabric of his underclothes, its weight heavy and practically weeping a delirious amount of precum. It's the hitch of your breath at the realization of his size that breaks his stupor. Digging one hand into your hair and shoving the final confines of his clothing to the ground, he takes his cock into his hand, using the precome to tease the head just above your waiting mouth as you admire.

You finally meet the visor with your eyes again, as he stokes himself tauntingly above you, he’s thicker than any you’d seen before, his fingers not even connecting around its circumference, and the flesh is a tad darker than his skin, with slightly darker veins throbbing for your waiting mouth.

He swears under his breath, as you let your tongue rest on the underside of his thick tip. He pulls you onto him, barely pressing into your mouth but the edge of his heady moan is irresistible, you need to hear it endlessly until he begged you to stop. You take more of him in on the accompanying thrusts, swallowing around him as tears brim your eyes. There's a sense of desperation as he loses his composure his movements less consistent and his body relaxes into the skilled warmth of your mouth.

By the time you work your way to the base, his sparse curls tickle your nose as you hum around him in contentment, and drool runs down your chin onto your chest. You realize in embarrassment that you were holding onto the towel, placing it under your injured knee for padding, and you settle more comfortably onto the ground, allowing you to start caressing his balls with your hand.

His gasp is sinful, depraved even as his hand furls tighter in your hair, teasing the line between pain and pleasure. You moan around him as he twitches against the back of your throat. Gently you shake your head side to side, as you get the last inch or so into your mouth. You hear another loud smash as his head hits the wall a second time, you pause waiting to hear the hiss of a cracked pipe. Instead, he tugs your head back and forth, hand griping tight but the pace is teasingly gentle.

Humming in approval, you look up, watching his body fight for breath between curses and moans. Maker was he handsome, his skin was riddled with various scars and bruises but remained soft and clean, the muscles of his body taut with pleasure and even quivering in his legs as he fought the urge to cum down your throat.

Surprising himself, he guides your head all the way off him, letting himself get a good look at your swollen wet mouth and your naked body as he pulls you back to your feet. “You’re so beautiful,” he is practically whispering, and you feel as though he’s caressing you with his voice, “Can I,” you step closer to him, pressing more open mouth kisses to the tender base of his throat, “Kriff, Can I fuck you?”

You hum against his skin in affirmation before taking his collarbone between your teeth and sucking a fresh mark into it. His arms wrap around your frame as he effortlessly lifts you and you wrap around him, pressing a few gentler, less hungry kisses to the helm where you envision his hairline. He manages to open the door to his bunk and lays you down.

He finally gets your entire body laid open for him, letting his hands caress your sides, committing the shapes of your body to memory as he runs over the planes of your body, stopping for a moment to drag his rough fingers over your nipples. You arch into his touch, feeling as though he is dragging a heated blade of pleasure across your skin. Coaxing your thighs open with the backs of his hands, he emits a low groan as he swipes two fingers through your folds. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he rolls your clit between two fingers effectively shutting you up. He nudges against your entrance and then slowly stretches you open while continuously toying with your clit, scissoring two fingers while paying close attention to any shifts in your breath and small noises.

He pushes his fingers up, and your legs try to close as the new pleasure makes your vision fuzzy. “Keep those legs open for me c’yare.” He demands, massaging that spot a few more times, and you feel as though you’re gasping for each breath in time with the movements of his fingers.

Just when you’re about to start begging for him to let you cum, he stops completely, using the moisture on his hands to slick up his length haphazardly before lining up with your fluttering pussy.

Again, his gentleness stuns you, slowly rocking his hips as he edges deeper into your core. The stretch is shocking at first, but he gives you plenty of time to adjust, slowly circling your clit with his thumb. He hooks your legs around his waist, grinding deeper and deeper until his face is hovering inches from yours.

He presses his forehead to yours in a keldabe kiss. Each slap of his hips is punctuated by your breathy gasp that fogs up his visor. He’s finally close enough to your skin to smell his soap lingering, and it awakens a part of his brain he didn’t know existed.

“You’re mine, mesh’la.” He rubs your clit just a fraction harder, “I wanna hear you say it.”

You struggle to get enough air in your lungs to speak, but the need to please him is greater than your need for breath, “Yours Mando,” His body is fire compared to the cool air of the crest, causing your skin to flush hotly, and a sheen of sweat coating your body, “Anything you want.”

His grunting is entirely animalistic, the ship could fall out of hyperspace or get attacked by purgills and he would be none the wiser. The tight grip of your pussy drives him further into insanity, he feels his orgasm creep up his spine and even then he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop. “Yeah? I’m gonna cum inside you baby.”

He sits up slightly, changing the angle of his hips to shove impossibly deeper into you as you tighten around him, your own orgasm brimming. With each faltering snap of his hips, your whine grows louder until you’re pleading with him to cum inside of you, feeling like it’s the only possible way to bring you relief.

He cradles your head in his arm, needing to feel your moans ripple across his skin as he feels you squeeze him like a vice, your legs shaking and practically bucking him off you with the force of your orgasm. It’s only a few more thrusts before he’s spilling himself inside you and grinding deep until his nerves are on shot and his body is ready to collapse from the stimulation.

A few quick moments pass, and while collecting your wits, you search his visor again, longing for just a bit of eye contact, but unable to find anything, you give him a soft smile. “I owe Peli 50 credits.”

Almost unbelievably bubbly, he resigns “I owe her 150, I think we got caught in a sure bet.” You feign surprise. “I can’t believe she knew before we did.”

“Sounds like she was a double agent. Maybe she just thinks she’ll get another baby out of it.” Your cheeks heat before you can finish speaking and he’s blushing profusely beneath the helmet.

He hums in contentment, letting some of his body weight rest on you as he slips free, before shifting to lay your head on his chest. “I love you.” His hand rubs circles at the base of your neck, but he can’t help but stare at the dark bruises on your arm. “I’ll get up and get you some bacta in a moment.”

“I love you too.” You listen intently to the steady falling rhythm of his heart, as you come down from your highs together. “I think I’d rather have them.” You gently run your fingers over the deep purple marks you’ve sucked into his skin, smiling sadistically at his sharp intake of breath. “It’s only fair.”

#din djarin fanfic #din x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x reader smut #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian spoilers #star wars fanfiction #star wars

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dewdr0pz-alt · 7 months ago

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hi!! i love your hh stuff.if you dont mind,would you mind doing alastor,charlie and adam (all seperate,lol) comforting child (9-12ish) reader? like they see reader as a younger sibling,or a their child! thank you sm,if u do this! hopefully,its not too much-

Don't Cry!

summary: Charlie, Alastor, & Adam comforting you (child reader)!

warnings: mentions of crying, mentions of depression, swearing, mentions of cannibalism (Alastor)

tags: (as always, just tagging a few people i think would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be on the taglist!) @o-kye@lil-stormcloud @zuuriell @strangleetomz @xxtalulahlovesyouxx@zoexia@ax-y10 @stars-around-scars-collective@blu3-lemonad3@myheartticks@joviepog@mochamuff1n@unbeleevable@danvstheworld @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons

Alastor (child reader [father figure Alastor]):

Alastor had heard sniffling coming from your room in the hotel, but he had just assumed that you had a stuffy nose.

That was until he heard little sobs from your room 20 minutes later.

"What did I say about a smile, de-"

^^ You were curled up in your bed, hugging your tear-stained pillow, buried under at least 5 blankets.

Alastor was never the best at comforting others, but he tried his hardest to make out what you were saying through your cries. You said something about how others in Hell mocked you for being an imp.

What a foolish reason to bully a child! You can't control being an imp, so why would they act like you made that choice?

They were all dead by the next morning.

Alastor, having no idea what else he should do, took you on a trip to Cannibal Town for tea with Rosie (which you giddily accepted!) & flesh-eating (which you politely declined)!

Charlie (sibling reader):

She knew something was up before you were even upset. You were sluggish, you rarely came out of your room, & you weren't smiling as much!

Expect loads of unexplained boxes of candies & cookies outside of your door, random stuffed animals in your room, etc. She just wants to make sure you feel okay!

It took you a few days to figure it out, & then you just had to explain it to her: you & your best friend had a big argument & hadn't been talking.

Charlie immediately tries to fix it! She's trying to set up a meeting with you & your friend to work things out, she's writing apology scripts, etc.

Eventually, you snap & tell her that you don't want any of this & you just need time to grieve.

Expect 10 apology emails next morning!

Adam (sibling reader):

He's pretty dense (no offense [hey that rhymed]), so Adam had no idea you were upset until another angel had told him that you hadn't done any of your extermination work in 2 weeks & that you also hadn't eaten much.

"What's got your panties in a bunch?" is his first question upon entering your messy room & seeing your miserable self.

You tried to explain to him that you were going through a depressive episode, but he didn't understand.

^^ "Being depressed is just being sad, isn't it?"

^^ This led to a 2-hour-long conversation about depression & a 1-hour-long research period.

^^ "EVERYONE LEAVE Y/N ALONE, THEY'RE DECOMPRESSED-" "It's 'depressed', Adam." "That's what I said!"

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isaaaxqii · 1 year ago

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cookies with a side of feels ·˚ ༘ - megumi

summary : in which megumi greets you with cookies at the front door of your dorm as his heart aches to tell you how he feels truly.

** : sfw, fluff

note : i love megumi sm🤍🤍

< 8.34am >

knock knock.

nobara and itadori stood at a distance, watching megumi, who was was holding a container with cookies in it, knock on your door nervously. their friend was never that experienced with love, knowing that he was always preoccupied with training. however, ever since he met you, he found you intriguing. the way you fought, cared about others before yourself, and offered any sort of help to others seemed to have him develop a small crush on you. you were also a smart individual who doesn’t get swayed by lies and manipulation easily, knowing how to assess your surroundings before acting.

“make sure to leave a small gap at the door! we want to know what’s happening inside!” megumi hears itadori say before he nods his head in annoyance.

“who’s at the door on a free day…” you muttered, rubbing your eyes as you go to open your front door. you see megumi’s figure, holding a container. you felt slightly embarrassed that he had to see you in a state of mess after you woke up. but whenever you were around him, you can’t help but feel a sense of comfort as well. your embarrassment quickly washed away.

“megumi! what brings you here? wanna come inside?” you greeted, making way for him to enter. he enters quietly, taking his shoes off before closing the door behind him halfway.

both of you sat on the couch in a comfortable silence before he speaks up, handing the container filled with cookies to you.

“there are some cookies in here. nobara, itadori and i made them for you.”

you accepted them gratefully, a wide smile forming on your face.

“thank you so much! but what’s the occasion?” you asked, confused at the sudden gift.

megumi doesn’t know how to put his feelings into words. he’s never confessed to anyone before. he recalled what nobara told him, and started to form out a small confession script in his brain, before spilling his heart out.

“megumi?” you called, seeing him zone out.

“y/n i… ever since i met you, you have never failed to help those in need, and train yourself to be the very best. that means a lot to me. and one time, when i was in danger on field, the way you immediately stepped in to defend me without hesitation made me feel something. and from that day on, i swear to protect you.”

“megumi, what are you saying?”

“i’m saying, i like you, y/n. but if you can’t return my feelings, that’s fine as well. i just want you to be aware of them.”

your eyes widened at his speech. you never expected megumi to have feelings for you, knowing that he was always so focused on trainings. your face grew hotter and redder, and megumi could see that. he laughed at the sight of you.

he thought, 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚.

“megumi i’m sorry but..”

he swallows his saliva.

“i like you too.”

he felt confused. so why did you say sorry?

you giggled at the sight of his confused face. your plan to tease him worked. he caught on quickly, knowing your true intentions.

“y/n, i almost got a heart attack. please don’t do that…”

you hugged him as an apology, your hands around his neck as you comb through his hair. his face grew red before he slowly settled into your touch, his hands wrapping around your waist. he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, holding you tight.

click.

both of you simultaneously turned your heads to the pair standing outside, their phone cameras facing towards the both of you.

shit. megumi forgot those two were spying on him.

“itadori, kugisaki…?” you muttered, now being the confused one.

“congrats you lovebirds! leaving the both of us single..” nobara sighed before you let out a small laugh.

“itadori, kugisaki! don’t send that picture anywhere!” megumi warned, but before he could finish, itadori hit send.

your phone received a notification in the group with the year 1 and 2 sorcerers, as well as gojo. you picked up your phone from the coffee table and opened up the chat to see a picture of you and megumi hugging. the chat started to fill up with many messages, with many asking if the both of you were together, and gojo teasing the both of you.

what a hectic but heartwarming morning.

hope y’all liked this one 🤍

#jjk fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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itmeansiris · 3 months ago

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The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Found Gen 1 pt.67

Kiersten: Your phone is ringing again.

M:..

Kiersten: Please let me take you inside. It's freezing out here.

M:....

Kiersten: I know we haven't known each other that long, but you are my closest friend here and I care for you like a sister. So I’m going to be honest. I don't think Kason did whatever it is that Paris is trying to convince you of. And yes, I know he kept things from you.. but maybe he had a good reason. The love between you two is different.

M:......

Kiersten: I've never seen any man look at anyone the way that Kason looks at you. I'm not even sure he knows the female gender exist outside of you. You need to talk to him. You told me yourself, he's never done anything to make you distrust him.

Finally she breaks her silence.

M: No, he never has. I swear I'm not trying to be close minded here. I want to talk and give him a chance to tell me its not what it looks like, but...

Kiersten: It's her isn't it?

M: Why does she know the girl in that photo? Why would Kason spend time with anyone that would willingly associate with her.

Kiersten nods in understanding

Kiersten: This is why you need to talk to him. Only he can answer those questions for you, AND! when you do, don't let what Paris said cloud your judgement. She's a bitter and jealous women, Kason is your husband, your soulmate.

M: What if I don't like the answers I get? Then what?

Kiersten shakes her head, a genuine smile lit up her gorgeous face. She takes M by the hand helping her onto her feet. She wraps a reassuring arm around M’s waist, pulling her in close, both for comfort and warmth while leading her towards the exit.

Kiersten: Its going to be okay. Come on, we can call him when we get inside.

For the second time that evening Kiersten was M’s guide to safety. Sheltering her from the cold and attempting to shield her mind from the thoughts that threatened to consume her normally jovial friend.

The Gratz Backyard

Kason: Well, they aren't here.

Rufus: We could go inside. What's the harm?

Kason: Do you want to explain to a sleepover full of kids that we don't know where their mothers are?

Rufus: I'm sure that wouldn't please your mother-in-law either. You've made your point.

Kason could feel himself reaching a point of desperation. They'd been searching for M and Kiersten for almost 2 hours and no one but Paris had seen them leave. Neither were answering the phone and it was getting noticeably colder as the night dragged on.

Kason: Let's head to your place. The temperature is dropping I doubt they're hanging around outside.

Kason checked his phone for the millionth time. The ringer was on full volume but It hadn't made a sound all evening. He checked anyway, trying to stay positive as they hurry up the street hoping to find his heart.

The Walter’s house

Kiersten watched M from the kitchen. She'd been staring at her phone for 10 minutes before dropping her head onto the table. She was supposed to be texting Kason but had yet to muster up the courage.

Kiersten: I told you. I can just call Rufus and tell him we’re here. I'm sure they're together. Kason must be worried.

M: What do I say when I see him?

Her voice muffled by the table.

Kiersten: You tell him what you saw and then you ask your questions and listen.

She lifts her head from the table with notable effort. She was tired, cold and her stomach was tying its self into water knots. She’d already abandoned her cup of coffee and had completely ignored the plate of Spooky cookies Kiersten had laid out, more out of politeness than M’s willingness to consume anything since Paris’s little bombshell.

M: This feels so strange. Normally when I have a problem I talk to Kason.

Kiersten: It's easy to see you two love each other but so obvious that you’ve never hit a bump in the road. In your relationship I mean. I have a feeling yours will pass quickly.

M: Why?

Kiersten: Because, I know he didn't do it, and so do you. Your upset because your confused. For the first time he did something uncharacteristic but who's to say its a bad thing.

M refused to look Kiersten in the face even though her tone almost demanded her attention. She didn’t want her to see how she clung to those words like a lifeline.

M: I hope you’re right.

Just outside Kason and Rufus rush into the house. Once inside they hurry to their respective partners gathering and fussing over the women to be sure they were unharmed.

Kason: Thank the watcher! M are you okay? I've been trying to call you.

She nods to avoid making eye contact.

Rufus: Ya could have called me.

Kiersten: I'm sorry My love.

As Kiersten and Rufus embraced and whispered sweet comforts to each other Kason takes M by the hand and without a word leads her into the Walter’s backyard.

The air had a bite to it, as the breeze blew in from the coast. The only sound was the whispers of the wind and the constant swaying of multicolored leaves as they dried and fell to the ground with the faintest tap.

Kason: Mercury

M: who is she?

Her voice, barely above a whisper, carries in the empty yard.

Kason: Her name is Madison.

He waits, knowing she needed to be in control of this situation. He didn’t rush her, allowing her time to think her next question through.

M: And?

She finally responds, a hint of irritation coating her tone.

Kason: And nothing M. I met Madison at the clinic the day of Comets appointment. She was there with her cat. She said hello and we talked for a while. That was it.

M: That was it?! Then why are there two pictures of you!

Kason was taken back. He couldn't recall a time he'd heard M truly raise her voice in anger. The furrow in her brow wasn't the same as when she was intensely focused, but he knew why. He wasn’t ignorant to what she was truly upset about, but he didn’t want her to ask because he didn’t have an answer yet.

Kason: After my meeting on Saturday, Madison was at the cafe with friends when I got there. She came over to say hi.

It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the truth and it killed him to not tell her everything.

M: She's friends with Paris.

Kason: Mercury, I swear I had no idea she was friends with Paris.

Mercurys phone rings, its Takara. She ignores it.

M: But Paris..

Kason: M please, listen to me. I don't know what Paris said or what she tried to make this seem like but it isn't true. You know me Mercury I would never do anything to hurt you. Why would I? I’d be an idiot to trade you, or what we have for any woman.

He takes a step forward. She takes one back. That single step made her feel miles away instead of inches. She had never moved away from his embrace. It was a first and it hurt like hell.

M: The hardest part is in my heart I know I should trust you, I want to trust you but it hard to ignore the what’s right in my face Kason. If she’s just your friend, finding out about her like this feels wrong. I don't know what part Paris had to play in all this, but YOU lied to me. YOU kept her a secret, not Paris. You.

She walked past him and leaves. Taking with her everything he felt made him whole.

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Beginning

#osims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 story #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #solar system legacy challenge #gen 1 #itmeansiris #sims 4 romance #sims 4 lovestruck

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writeforfandoms · 1 year ago

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Superhero

For Gazfest, hosted by the amazing @glitterypirateduck

Prompts: Roommate and "Stay still."

You're thrilled to find your roommate came home sooner than expected, but something is weighing on him.

Warnings: Swearing, yearning, Feels, idiots in love.

Word count: 2.3k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

You almost didn't notice the boots by the front door, except you accidentally kicked one of them. You swore softly and then grinned. Boots meant Kyle was back.

"Kyle?" You called into the apartment, leaving your own shoes haphazardly dropped next to his boots. You didn't hear a response, so you paused in the hallway between your two rooms.

You couldn't hear anything coming from his bedroom. Maybe he was taking a nap. Or out.

Huffing at your disappointment, you opened the door to your room, intending to get into more comfortable clothes to do some baking. Honestly. You weren't some school girl with a crush.

You were an adult with a crush.

But really, who could blame you? Kyle was as close to perfect as anyone could get - brave, funny, witty, snarky at times. A great guy, really. Anyone would be lucky to have him.

You walked into the kitchen, humming to yourself as you started pulling out ingredients for baking. You should probably make real food too at some point, but that was a later problem.

You were just mixing the sugar and butter when you heard footsteps, and turned to watch Gaz settle heavily into one of the two chairs at the tiny table. Your heart sank - he looked awful. Tired. Hurt.

"Hi," you murmured, holding on to your cheer for the moment. "When did you get home?"

"Couple hours ago." He managed a little smile for you, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Was a last minute thing."

You nodded, looking back at the dough. "Have you eaten?"

"You don't have to mother me." There was the faintest hint of irritation to his tone.

You blinked, lips parting in surprise. "Is that what you think I'm doing?" You asked softly, leaving the fork in the bowl to cross over in front of him. You crouched next to him, tipping your head to look up at him.

He didn't answer, the twist of his lips at once stubborn and regretful. But he wouldn't respond further, you knew from experience. Damn stubborn man.

"Kyle." You risked resting one hand on his knee, light, easy to dislodge. "I would do this for any friend, and especially one as important to me as you are." You fought past your embarrassment at being so openly emotional, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "Okay?"

His shoulders relaxed and he blew out a breath. "Okay," he agreed, his hand landing over yours, holding you in place. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." You smiled up at him, squeezing his knee gently. "But if you insist, you can make it up to me by helping me eat these cookies."

He laughed, quiet and much more relaxed. "Well, that sounds horrible," he agreed cheerfully. "Might have to twist my arm, love."

Your heart clenched at the easy pet name. He'd been calling you that for months now, and you'd convinced yourself it didn't mean anything. "I know," you agreed, matching his amusement. "That's why it's your punishment."

You stood, and he released you. "Gonna hang out with me while I finish these up?"

"'Course," he agreed quickly, watching as you got back to the cookie dough. Fortunately it was no worse the wear for having been temporarily abandoned.

This was easier. You caught him up on everything he'd missed while you finished up the cookie dough. (Your next door neighbors were gone now after a screaming match loud enough the entire floor heard, work was fine but boring, you'd received a wedding invitation for an old friend.) You even tossed him a few chocolate chips just to watch his eyes crinkle as he caught them.

He didn't tell you where he'd been. He never did. Safer for everyone, he'd told you. (You also had the feeling he wasn't allowed to tell you.) But he did update you on the latest of Soap's shenanigans, and the pranks he'd pulled off.

By the time he'd caught you up on hiding all of Price's cigars, leaving you in stitches, the oven was beeping at you that the cookies were done. You pulled them out and immediately brandished the spatula at Kyle.

"Don't even think about it," you warned him. "Five minutes."

"Would I do such a thing, love?" Kyle held his hands up in surrender, but you knew better. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Yes."

He paused and then shrugged, apparently deciding against trying to defend himself.

"You thinking of going to the wedding?" He asked instead, leaning back in his chair, apparently to show you he wasn't planning mischief.

"Dunno yet. I need to check on some things first." You bit your lip, tapping your fingers against the counter.

"Keep me updated, yeah?" He stretched one leg out to nudge your ankle.

"I will, I will." You rolled your eyes and started plating up cookies. "How long are you home?"

"Three weeks." He shrugged. "Plenty of time."

"Excellent." You set the cookies in front of him and sat across from him, letting him take a cookie and watching eagerly for his first bite.

He groaned softly in appreciation, eyes closing. "Still the best damn cookies," he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie.

"Flatterer." You smiled, taking a cookie and biting into it. Still warm from the oven. Yum.

The rest of the evening passed in warmth and laughter and too many cookies. You both migrated to the couch eventually as rain pattered against the windows, turning on something mindless for background noise.

When Kyle pulled you closer, you didn't object. When you threw your legs over his lap, he didn't object. When he offered a blanket, you made sure you both cuddled up under it together.

You woke up to your alarm going off, warm and still wrapped up in the blanket and Kyle on the couch. He groaned softly, head lifting as he blinked blearily.

"Shit, I'm sorry." You tugged at the blanket, hot and embarrassed and far too comfortable.

"Don't be," he muttered, voice rough with sleep still. The sound made you even warmer, aching just a little. "Need to go?"

"Work," you agreed with a little smile, still embarrassed.

"Mmkay." He squeezed you gently before helping remove the blanket. You hissed at the cold air on your skin, and he immediately grabbed you again.

"I wish I didn't have to go." You let the admission fall softly between you two, one hand curling around his arm.

"You've got tomorrow off, yeah?" He rested his forehead against your temple.

"All weekend, yeah."

"Then we'll make a day of it. Anything you wanna do."

"Okay." You drew in a deep breath. "Okay." You leaned harder into him for a moment. This was just riding the edge of too much, so tempting and so close.

But you forced yourself to pull away before you could do something foolish, like kiss him.

Work absolutely dragged, partially because Fridays were always slow, and partially because you were eager to get back home.

Especially because he'd texted you after lunch telling you not to worry about dinner.

Silly, beautiful man. Probably trying to spoil you. Again.

Finally, you shut off your computer for the weekend and headed home, not quite bouncing but close.

Really, nobody could blame you for being so excited to see Kyle. Even though you had three whole weeks (maybe) to enjoy time with him.

The trip home was both faster and longer than normal - longer because you had something to look forward to, shorter because you were so distracted you didn't notice the passage of time as acutely.

"I'm home," you called as you opened the door, looking around for any kind of hint as to what he had planned for the two of you. Your shoes went next to his, more neatly this time.

"How was work?" He didn't emerge from his room, calling to you. Temptation was too strong to resist, his voice the only siren song you cared for.

"Fine," you answered, padding back towards the bedrooms. You paused in the hallway, looking on his open door to find him in slacks and a button down. His back was to you, giving you a chance to unabashedly stare at the breadth of his shoulders, the obvious strength there. You swallowed hard. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm taking you out." He half-turned to look at you, gaze warm. "If that's alright?"

Your heart thrummed in your chest, pulling towards him. "Of course," you agreed quickly. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." He winked at you.

You laughed, as you knew you were supposed to, and retreated to your room to change into something to match him. You just had to trust that he wouldn't lead you astray.

(What a joke. Like you didn't already trust him with every bit of you.)

Finally ready, you stepped out of your room. Kyle's eyes went wide from his spot on the couch, and his lips parted, just a little. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, getting to his feet.

"You look… great," he murmured, stepping closer to you. "Gonna tempt me into taking you out all the time."

You ducked your head a bit, smiling, pleased. "I'll keep that in mind," you murmured, stopping in front of him.

Kyle held out a hand to you. "Ready?"

"Ready," you agreed, smiling. Your hand fit into his, his skin warm and a little rough against yours.

The trip was easy, Kyle staying close to you. The restaurant was one you'd normally never go to, nice and more expensive than you'd go for. But Kyle tugged gently at your linked hands before you could protest, leveling those big brown eyes at you like the most effective weapon. You caved without a word, letting him lead you inside.

The host showed you straight back to a table for two by a window. Kyle even helped you into your seat.

The two of you chatted easily through ordering drinks and food. (You winced a little at the prices but didn't say anything. Kyle still gave you a smile and quietly encouraged you to order whatever you wanted.)

"Can I ask what prompted all this?" You leaned forward towards him, watching him carefully. Not only because it was so good to be able to see him after a few months of only the occasional picture, but also because you could usually read his expressions.

He paused, chewing his lip, not meeting your gaze. "This last mission…" He paused there, momentarily struggling for words. "It ended okay, but… it was close. Too close."

You slid one hand across the table, palm up, in silent offering. He squeezed your hand with a little smile.

"Cap pushed me, actually," he continued, a little softer now. "Told me to stop waffling about you."

"About me?" You blinked, caught off guard. "You talk to them about me?"

"So much that Soap tells me to shut up," Kyle admitted with a little laugh.

You smiled. "So, Price nudged you into this?" You prompted gently.

"Sort of. More like he gave me the little push I needed." Kyle drew in a deep breath, holding your gaze across the table. "Been wanting to take you out for ages."

"We go out," you tested. Carefully. This was delicate territory, you needed to proceed with caution.

"Not like this." He bit his lip again before squeezing your hand. "Not like a date."

Your breath caught in your chest, eyes going wide. "...A date?" You couldn't keep the hopeful note out of your voice if you tried.

"Yeah." Kyle watched you every bit as carefully as you watched him.

"I suppose now is a good time to admit I've wanted to ask you on a date for months?" You smiled hopefully, squeezing his hand.

It was his turn to pause, eyes wide. Then he snorted, ducking his head briefly to hide his grin. "What a pair we are, huh?"

You laughed quietly, letting go of his hand only so the waiter could put your plates down. "Remind me to buy your captain something nice for nudging you here."

Kyle grinned, bright and happy and playful. "Solid plan, he'll appreciate you more than he already does."

You beamed at him. "You really talk about me to them?"

He nodded, a little abashed. "At least as much as I talk to you about them."

"That's adorable, Kyle." You grinned at him.

He huffed but smiled, apparently too happy to be embarrassed. Not that you could blame him - you felt much the same way.

The two of you ended up playing footsie under the table all through dinner, playfully tapping each other's ankles and trapping feet. Your heart couldn't stop fluttering.

Kyle insisted on paying, and held your hand all the way home.

"Any other plans I should know about?" You asked, even as you unlocked the front door.

"Nah." Kyle grinned, right on your heels as you walked in. "Figured I'd leave that up to you."

"I've got an idea where we can start," you murmured, turning to face him. "Stay still." Before he could ask, you reached up to cup his face in your hands, taking a moment to just look. He really was beautiful.

And then you kissed him. It was everything you'd ever hoped and more.

"Excellent idea," Kyle murmured when you finally pulled back, both of you a little out of breath. "I think we should do that more."

"I agree." You pulled him back in to kiss him again. Hopefully you'd do a lot of that this weekend.

#gazfest #kyle gaz garrick x reader #f!reader

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darlingsfandom · 2 months ago

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“Baby, I’ll be your psycho !”

kinktober day 10!

pairing: Jackson Rippner x Fem Reader.

tw: stalking, knives, neck biting and swearing.

To the world Jackson Rippner was just an average man who would never get a second glance or have a single thought about him after seeing him, but to you he was the man who soiled your good name.

The old saying girls were made of sugar, spice and everything nice perfectly described you until you met Jackson. He was sitting on the park bench when he first seen you. You were sitting opposite of him reading your book in that pretty green sundress that he had ended up stealing one night while you weren’t home. Of course he knew where you lived, he was assigned to take you out since your father was a high target profile and what would kill that man more than loosing his only daughter ? Jackson was actually surprised how much you weren’t like your father and didn’t understand why you actually had to be taken out.

You had seen Jackson around town but never gave the second thought because yeah he was eyes on the eyes but something told you to stay away. Weeks had passed and he still lingered around watching how you’d sleep, how you’d bake cookies, how you’d put one shoe on at a time and how’d you rub yourself to dirty porn which was his favorite part because to the world you were the perfect neighbor but little did they know what lied beneath inside of you. Jackson finally got bold with you and watched you from your door frame as you showered. He’s broken into to your home many times and stolen little things here and there collecting them like prized possessions. To be fair you were his prettiest client he’s ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

Now after two months you finally realized that maybe you do have a stalker. Little to your knowledge Jackson had interfered and made it so he could act like he was helping you find the stalker when you had called a company to hire someone to watch out for you. Of course he did that, he tapped your phone a while ago. When you met him you had thought he was so sweet, kind and thoughtful. When you noticed no changes in the fact your stuff was still going missing you confronted him and to make matters worse now you had been getting flowers because in his mind you were his! He was supposed to kill you months ago but Jackson being the charmer he is convinced his company to keep you alive so he could torture in a way that no one would suspect since the town you lived in was something out of a fairy tail with the white fences and bullshit.

Jackson stepped up his game by leaving you notes with hugs and kisses written on it. He loved watching how you would go wide eyed reading all the nasty details about how he wants to fuck toy like a cock drunk whore, how you’d look adorable covered in his love bites , how your hair would feel so soft between his fingers as he pulls on it. Jackson was a real poet well pervert but to him same difference.

“Jackson!” You whimpered out as you came running down the hallway in your night gown.

“What’s wrong honey ?” He caught you in his arms and gripped you tightly as he smoothed over your hair.

“I… I heard a noise!” You buried your face into the crook of his neck.

“Aw doll you know you’re in safe arms. Come on, I’ll get you back to sleep.” Jackson took you back to bed and covered you up. He kissed your forehead gently that made you smile before he kissed down the side of your face.

“Jackson… stop.” Your hand pressed against his chest which made him grip your wrist tightly. “You’re hurting me!” You whined while pulling your hand away but he wouldn’t budge.

“Why are you so naive? You’re pretty, beautiful in fact but so fucking stupid !” He took his chance and pinned you down to the bed as he put all his weight on you. Your body froze beneath him as your eyes darted back and forth until his hand moved to cup your face. “You are mine! All mine.” He spat at you making you twitch. “You’ve been mine since I seen you! All those stupid little dates you made that never followed through… haven’t you wondered why they never returned a call or tried for a second date ? A pretty girl like you.” He smooth over your cheek with the back of his hand. His hand went over your mouth and without a second thought you chomped down on it hard as you could making him jump back enough that you could push him off and run.

Your feet took as fast as they could down the hall but you being the way you are you tripped over your own two feet! You scrambled the best you could until you felt his hand grip the ends of your hair as best as he could. You yelped while clawing at the floor, tears running down your cheeks as he grunted , twisting your hair in his hand to cause you more pain but your adrenaline kicked in and you twisted yourself just right to escape from him causing the hair he was holding to rip off. He stood there screaming while holding your hair tightly before shoving it into his pocket before running after you.

Anxiety made you shake as you looked for something and you grabbed a knife from the little block. Jackson was on your trail as you scampered away to the walk in pantry. Silent tears strolled down your cheeks. How you could have been so stupid ? You trusted Jackson with every thing in you! You’ve even let him see you naked! He’s watched you shower! Your skin crawled at the thought making a shiver run down your spine.

His foot steps got heavier as you stood there holding the knife tightly as you could while your breathing hitched. Jackson didn’t mean to scare you, he just wanted to love on you in his own way.

“Oh sweetheart, come on out. I don’t really want to hurt you honey. I just want to talk.” His voice sounded sincere but nothing made sense to you. Jackson licked his lips before leaning against the door of the pantry. “Sweetheart, don’t do this to me. I love you.” He started tapping on the door lightly before it turned into a pounding that made you drop the knife.

With in a second the door was flung open and you ran but not fast enough. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as possible before he bit down on your shoulder making you whimper. His ears perked up to the sound. He’s heard your whimpers from the times he’s stood outside your door or watched you from inside your closet , oh how he loved those nights but now he actually made you whimper ! His lips turned into a smirk before he sucked softly on the spot he just marked.

“Jackson, please!” You tried to wiggle out of his arms.

“Anything you want baby, just stop playing this stupid game.” He dragged you down the hall and back into your room. You gulped down the lump in your throat as he towered over with a glint in his eyes. “Good girl.” He stroked your cheek gently before you gripped onto his wrist and kicked him in the stomach.

“You’ve met your match Jackson and baby for you, I’ll be your psycho .”

#Spotify #kinktober 24!#kinktober ‘24!#jackson rippner red eye #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner #cillian murphy jackson #Cillian Murphy Jackson Rippner #Jackson Rippner Drabble

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tiramisuucakeee · 3 months ago

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1. SAVED BY A SPIDER

( sunflower, yang jungwon )

warnings: bad ppl wanting bad stuff ig, fight scene.

“you got detention? again? we were supposed to go dress shopping for the dance,” giselle whined, while you shot her an apologetic look. it was the end of the school day, and you both were supposed to go out with the rest of the friend group to shop, but a small problem came up regarding your attendance.

“i wish i was joking, my lunch tray accidentally fell over mr. park, he got all mad, and here we are,” you shrugged, checking the time, and stepped back. “i swear i’ll make it up to you all.”

“y/n…” she warned, wanting you to miss detention, but you kept stepping back, as you were going to be late.

“i’m sorry gigi, i gotta go!” you started trotting away from her, waving.

making it to the classroom just in time for detention to start, you observed there was only a few students sitting down, boredly staring at the wall or their hands.

“almost late miss. l/n,” mr. park called you from the front of the room, just to your luck, he was the teacher that took care of watching over the detention students. “take a seat and no funny business,” he instructed.

you made your way towards a lonely desk, sitting quickly, as you watched the teacher turn on a tv, and slide a dvd in a slot.

“the principal told me to put on this video for you guys, so i hope you all watch it carefully, and think about your actions,” he pointed the controller towards the tv, pressing the ‘play’ button.

on the small screen, a fake school hallway background came on, followed by the famous hero - captain america - walking onto the frame, and sitting on a red foldable chair.

“this can’t be real,” you muttered, under your breath, and pulled your hair up, laying on top of your backpack.

the school, along with many others, were sent psa videos by captain america. you didn’t know how many of them existed, but your teachers had already played various of them.

“so, you got detention” captain america started, crossing his buff arms. “you screwed up. you know what you did was wrong. the question is, how are you going to make things right? maybe you were trying to be cool, but take it from a guy who was frozen for 65 years, the only way to really be cool, is to follow the rules. we all know what’s right, we all know what’s wrong…-”

and, lights out. your eyes closed shut, and your head fell ontop of your backpack.

detention went by pretty quickly, mr. park getting angry at a couple of students who went on their phones or stood up without permission, just like always.

when the sun started to set, he strolled over to your desk, rolling his eyes at your sleeping figure. he slammed a book on the table, waking you up instantly, your vision spinning fast.

“detention is over miss. l/n,” he said, and went to his desk, as the rest of the students also packed up to leave.

“right,” you said, and stood up, bidding everyone goodbye, before heading out, not wanting to be out in the streets late.

stepping out of the school premises, your zipped up your jacket, as the chilly air hit your skin. walking towards a liquor shop that was always open, you took out your wallet. nobody knew this but the owner of the shop always sold cookies. his daughter was a girl scout and they had a hard time selling them, so he opted to help.

“well hello y/n,” the old man greeted you, glad to see the only teenage girl that came to his shop not to buy alcoholic drinks. “i saved you a box, they are miraculously sold out for today,” he grinned from behind the counter.

you shot him a warm smile, happy for him and his family “that’s good, and thanks for saving some for me, i was in detention and i’m starving,” you laughed, handing him a bill. he waved you off after giving you your change, not wanting you to stay inside the shop for long, as the sky was already darkening and a teenage girl being out alone was no good.

you were already relatively close to your house when the air got colder, a small chill running up your arm, while you took another chocolate chip cookie from the cute box and turned left to a street.

that was when you spotted a group of men chatting near a car, all looking very suspicious, but nonetheless, that group’s presence wasn’t unusual at all.

it all started with a whistle. you walked quickly past them, and heard a faint disgusting cat call. choosing to ignore it, your pace sped up. “hey! i’m talking to you!” one of them spoke louder, a small crash of glass following his words, various footsteps coming dangerously closer to you.

not daring to look back, you turned sharply at the first opening you saw, your breath hitching in your throat as you realized you had stumbled into a dead end. the dark brick walls loomed high in front of you, and your heart raced , pounding in your ears as you realized the situation you were in.

you spun back, being met with five figures which seemed to grow taller the closer they got. you didn’t want to accept what was about to happen, but their taunting explicit words had you with no other option.

“please, i don’t care what you do, at least just let me go back home to my family after,” you teared up, grabbing your backpack strap tighter and backed away, hoping that they would at least feel sorry for you.

“nah, i don’t think we’d be done with a pretty girl like you in some just some minutes, i need more time than that? what do you say lady?” one of them smirked, as they all stood a single meter away from you. the guy that spoke grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him, while you shut your eyes, praying for an escape.

you struggled against his strong grip, making you feel completely powerless. “leave me alone!” his four companions laughed at your actions, mocking your desperate words.

another one ripped your back pack off, and threw it near some trash cans, that rattled with the impact, along with the cookie box. they all continued to say all kinds of filthy things, making you lose all kinda of hopes you had in people.

then suddenly, someone took your hand, and pulled you away from the group, and behind them. you were met with a red-suited back. the person that had just saved you turned halfway to you, and you recognized them as the friendly neighborhood spider-man everyone spoke about recently.

“i’ll take care of them, don’t worry,” he said, with a voice that you didn’t recognize in that moment.

he stepped forward to fight them, and spun around, shooting out a web that snagged one of the attackers by the ankle. the guy yelped, crashing to the ground with a thud.

"what the- ?" another shouted, anger flaring as he lunged at spider-man, fists swinging. but with a swift motion, spider-man ducked and countered, delivering a quick jab to the guy's midsection. he doubled over, gasping.

the remaining three exchanged glances, uncertainty creeping in as they saw their friends crumple. spider-man moved like a blur, swinging effortlessly from wall to wall, using his agility to evade their punches. one of them lunged at you, but before you could react, spider-man was there, landing a solid kick that sent him sprawling backward.

"stay close to me," he softly instructed, his spider-like masked eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment, a flicker of reassurance cutting through your fear.

“okay, i trust you.” you nodded, heart racing, as you pressed yourself against the wall, as to not get in his way.

spider-man faced the last two, a playful grin breaking through the tension. "is this really how you want to spend your night? because i've got better plans," he shrugged. “you know, some of us have science projects to finish.”

they hesitated, and in that moment, he lunged again, catching one with a spinning kick that sent him reeling into his companion. they stumbled, and as they scrambled to recover, spider-man shot a web, binding them together like a human fly trap.

with the last of the attackers bound tightly in a web, and knocked unconscious, he turned back to you, his expression instantly softening. he took a moment to catch his breath, but his spider eyes were locked onto yours, searching for any sign of distress. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing, filled with genuine concern. yes he was spider-man, but he was also scared shitless that something had happened to you, out of all people.

“yeah i- think i will be okay..” you nodded, but the tremor in your hands gave away the fear still clinging to you. tears threatened to spill as the adrenaline faded, leaving you feeling vulnerable.

“hey,” spider-man said gently, stepping closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “it’s okay to be shaken up. you just went through something really intense.” he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch sending a spark of comfort through you. “let’s take a deep breath together, alright?”

you inhaled shakily, and he mirrored you. “you’re safe now,” he continued, his voice softening further, as if he was sharing a secret. “that’s what matters to me.”

the night around you felt lighter somehow. the city sounds resumed, but they felt distant. you took a deep breath, feeling gratitude for the masked individual. “thank you, really. i don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

“i’m just glad i got here in time,” he replied. “you didn’t deserve any of that.” he stepped a little closer, the air between you electric, as he helped you put on your backpack again. “but honestly, you handled yourself pretty well, if only we didn’t have these damn dead ends in the city.”

a small smile tugged at your lips. “yeah it was pretty scary.”

“that’s totally understandable,” he said. there was a moment of silence, and you could feel the tension shift.

“let’s get you out of here,” he finally said, breaking the spell, a hint of excitement lighting up his eyes as he looked at you. he crouched slightly, readying himself. “trust me?” he offered you his arm, and as you took it.

“okay, just don’t let me fall, i live in the penthouse at the hybe building,” you told him, and he nodded, remembering the place.

without another word, he shot a web into the night sky, the silken strand glistening in the city lights. he wrapped an arm around your waist securely, pulling you close. “hold on tight,” he instructed, and as you clutched his shoulder, he launched himself upward.

the world below you blurred into a cascade of lights and sounds as you soared through the air. the wind whipped past, cool against your skin, but you felt an exhilarating feeling from being so close to him, the man who had just saved your life. his grip was secure, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom as the city stretched out beneath you.

“this is so cool!” you shouted over the rush of the wind.

he swung from building to building, the city skyline unfolding like a living map. the streets were alive with people, but from this height, everything felt distant and surreal. he pointed out the building. “that’s our stop!”

you could feel his heartbeat through your touch, matching your own racing pulse. and suddenly, spider-man wasn’t some pretentious genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist wannabe, in a awfully designed halloween costume who only looked out for himself, he did care about people, because he was just like you.

he even had an unfinished science project.

finally, he reached the balcony of your home, landing gracefully after flying past the other floors. he gently set you down, still holding your hand as you caught your breath. “see? not so scary, right?” he said, and you could sense a teasing smile on his lips.

the balcony was open, and had a few sun chairs next to the pool, the outdoor lights illuminating the place, but you knew your parents were not home yet, since the indoor lights were off.

you laughed, still buzzing from the trip and then paused. “thank you for everything, mr. spider-man. really. i owe you my life and much more.”

“anytime,” he replied softly, his touch lingering on your hand for a moment before he pulled back. “i’d do it again in a heartbeat. and you better expect to see me again to check up on you, okay?” he asked, for the first time in forever, promising someone that he would do that.

as he prepared to swing away, you noticed how he hesitated, glancing back at you. you gave him a nod, and he reciprocated, leaving you there.

standing alone on the balcony, you knew this was just the start of something. no one gets saved by a superhero like that and walks away without a word. the connection between you felt real, and you could tell he felt it too. you swore you’ve been around this person, he felt way too familiar for him not to be, it was almost as if he knew you and what to say.

and yang jungwon felt exactly the same thing, he felt more courage than ever to speak with you now that spider-man did. if him in a silly suit and a mask could, why would he not be able to in school? of course, you were just the girl he had been in love with since he saw you the first day of freshman year in maths class, way before he was someone different.

he just hoped you would appreciate him as much as him, than you did spider-man.

EXTRA:

masterlist.

next chapter.

all chapters.

#yang jungwon x reader.#yang jungwon #jungwon yang #Yang jungwon x reader #spiderman #spidermanjungwon #kpop x y/n #kpop x fem reader #kpop x you #kpop x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen

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