#cutlery? who wants more dishes to clean??
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eastical · 3 days ago
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currently shoveling plain rice into my mouth. yay life
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sugarushwriting · 4 months ago
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cherry popper —
sunghoon x reader
getting your cherry popped by your enemy
mature content featured, read at your own discretion
note: i know i know i said a writing schedule but this is my issue — i just want you all to read what i have planned so bad! i’ll start the schedule soon, ignore my last updated post
“you are infuriating!” you screeched, stomping your foot to the ground like a child.
“no, you are!”
“for goodness sake, you both are infuriating!” your professor interrupted your arguing with park sunghoon.
your worst enemy since middle school. now both ready to graduate university soon, nothing has changed.
you and sunghoon turned to your professor with looks of disgust towards one another. your professor has had you both in her classes for 3 semesters as you both shared a major.
“i’ve dealt with you two for too long! always arguing before, after, and during my lectures! you two can’t even stop bickering long enough to enjoy this nice class trip!” the professor rambled.
“professor, i really was trying to enjoy this trip—,” the professor cut you off
“no you haven’t! any given moment you started an argument with mr. park, knowing he will argue back. you two leave me no choice, you are to stay here in your rooms at the hotel, my assistant will be staying on the floor if you two need anything. he’ll most likely try to find a bonding exercise for you two.”
“if we stay here, that means we miss the exhibits!” sunghoon exclaimed, dark bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion, hurt, and anger towards you.
the professor shrugged. “hopefully it’ll teach you a lesson like i teach my children.” she scolded, waving her finger at both of you.
you and sunghoon stood in the hallway of the hotel dumbfounded that you would be missing the exhibit you both were so excited to view. three months you’ve been waiting for this trip!
you groaned in annoyance, “you just have to ruin everything, huh?”
sunghoon turned to you wide eyed, “me? you’re the one always starting shit between us two!”
“you could just ignore me.” you shrugged trying to place the blame all on him.
“ignore you? i’ve tried, and you never let it go. you keep pestering like an annoying little bug until i reply to you.”
your lip turned up, “listen here you little—,”
“finish that sentence and i’ll ask the hotel to make you clean toilets.” your professors graduate assistant snapped.
you and sunghoon turned around to face the young guy who couldn’t be more than 3 years older than you.
“faked being ill because my girlfriend happened to come down to the city to see me. haven’t seen her in four months as we live apart,” the assistant began explaining, “but now i have to babysit two annoying little young adults who can’t get along for nothing!”
“man, you don’t have to babysit us. we can care for ourselves.” sunghoon stated.
“and risk you two sneaking off?” the assistant shook his head.
you crossed your arms, “so what do you want us to do?”
“the hotel is low on staff in the kitchen. they just need help with dishwashing and putting together cutlery.”
“no way! i don’t want my fingers to turn into raisins!”
“that’s why gloves were invented, cherry.”
you narrowed your eyes, ready to stab sunghoon if you could, especially at the nickname he’s given you for the past year.
“you two, kitchen, now. you can go to your separate rooms afterwards. don’t snitch on me, help the kitchen out, and i’ll tell the professor you two got along well enough to be able to join in on the activities tomorrow.”
“deal.” both you and sunghoon agreed.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
it was all going well—decently well for you and sunghoon until you dropped a plate in the sink, causing the water to splash both you and him.
he splashed water back, so now you and him were banned from dishwashing and instead wrapping cutlery for future hotel guests.
about an hour later, you both were only half way done through the giant bucket of clean dishes.
“this is exhausting!” you sighed. “my neck is starting to hurt.”
“stop whining and just keep going.” sunghoon replied quietly.
“what’s got your panties in a twist?”
sunghoon dropped the fork and spoon he was holding. “mhm, i don’t know, maybe you? always starting arguments with me.”
“you’re the one who started it, park sunghoon.”
“when did i ever start? you are the one who started it back in middle school.”
“middle school? sunghoon, i never even talked to you in middle school until that day you said my hair bow was ugly.” you reminded him.
that’s when sunghoon became your enemy. maybe for a stupid reason, but as a young girl, you had tried a new hair style with a hair bow after your mom made you get a hair cut, that the salon butchered.
you were insecure about it for a while, but it only really unsettled you when sunghoon came up to you one day during lunch telling you that your ‘hair bow was ugly, and nothing can make your hair look pretty again.’
since then, you’ve always sought out to ruin park sunghoon. whether it was getting better grades, to become top of the class. becoming class president so he’d be class vice president.
or even childish things like a whoopie cushion, taking a picture of him picking his nose in private, and even starting arguments over small things.
but the biggest would have to be when you started dating his friend second to last year in high school, you two only ending the relationship a little over a year ago.
kang taehyun.
it was a sneaky move to date your enemy’s friend. but it worked in your favor as just your presence annoyed sunghoon. he started to dislike you even more then.
but it wasn’t like sunghoon and taehyun were best friends, they just happened to be in the same friend group.
sunghoon remembered the day he called your hair bow ugly. he actually didn’t think it was ugly, but he was upset about what he overheard you and your friends at the time saying about him.
then when sunghoon found out you were actually dating taehyun, he couldn’t believe it. he would tease you and only bring it up to taehyun the reasoning for you to date his friend was to annoy him.
sunghoon used to hate seeing you around all the time when he just wanted to be with his friends. he especially disliked whenever taehyun would be too handsy with you.
“i only called your hair bow ugly because you and your friends made fun of me.” sunghoon sighed deeply. his lips went into a thin straight line as he went back to his deep thinking, focused on wrapping the silverware.
you looked at him surprised and confused. “sunghoon, when did my friends and i ever make fun of you?”
sunghoon sighed once more, wanting to forget the whole incident, but knew now was probably a good, but very late time to confront you about it.
“i overheard you all laughing at the fact i was a figure skater at the time, and said something about me being feminine.”
you stood there, too much in shock. your brain racked old memories and conversations, trying to remember that exact time. as you stood and stared, sunghoon continue on with the kitchen chore.
then it hit you, and you slightly chuckled. “sunghoon, we weren’t laughing at you. we were admiring you. the fact you was a boy doing figure skating? we were so impressed! and the feminine thing was a compliment, i promise! i swear as young girls we were jealous because you had a nice body we were jealous of at the time.”
sunghoon snapped his head toward you, observing you for any chance of a lie. he saw none as you stood there and smirked.
“you really called my hair bow ugly, to upset me, because you misheard my conversation with my friends?”
sunghoon scoffed, “well i mean, as a young boy, it was hard enough being a figure skater. i was just, don’t know, very introverted and shy.”
which he still was most times.
“you aren’t introverted or shy around me, sunghoon.”
“because i can’t be. you drive me up the wall on my nerves.”
you laughed. sunghoon liked the sound. he always did.
then he asked, “did i really hurt your feelings by saying your bow was ugly?”
you nodded. “yes you did. that started a war.”
“a war between us that i think we can now end?”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
after another hour, you all were close to finished when the kitchen staff let you go. rubbing your neck, you complained, excited to shower and just lay around for the rest of the night.
it was only 6 in the evening, and the exhibit went on until 9 pm, and you both were sure the professor and classmates would be off doing their own thing for the rest of the night as curfew wasn’t until 1 am.
“wanna watch a movie?” sunghoon asked, startling you. “i mean, there’s nothing else going on for us, and we could, maybe, keep each other entertained?”
you shrugged. “sure. just let me shower first. my room or yours?”
“mine. my friend and roommate, heeseung, snuck in some beer.”
you smiled. “perfect.”
half an hour later, you both were showered, in comfy clothes, and in sunghoon’s hotel room, sitting on the couch at the end of the beds watching a movie.
two drinks in, sunghoon was feeling bold. “why did you date taehyun?”
being caught off guard, you slowly turned your head, then tilted. “uh, why?”
“did you only date him because of me? to make me mad or jealous?”
“more to make you mad.” you teased with a wink.
“well congrats, you made me both mad and jealous by dating my friend.” sunghoon snickered, sipping his bottle of beer. he was no where near drunk or even tipsy. just a bit of extra courage running through his veins.
it was him watching you out of the side of his eye that got him this way. your laugh, your smile, the smell of you, so intoxicating.
you were more shocked and confused than ever. “sunghoon, what?”
sunghoon leaned down to look at your face, “taehyun used to bitch and moan that he could never get in your pants. that you would tease him, only willing to dry hump with him.”
you swallowed but rolled your eyes as well. taehyun always did complain that you never let him have sex with you. it never really bothered you.
taehyun knew you were a virgin. what he didn’t know was that whenever you thought about finally being intimate with him, all you thought about what sunghoon. all you could see was sunghoon. your thoughts were consumed of sunghoon whenever you thought anything sexual.
“why wouldn’t you have sex with your boyfriend, cherry?”
“why do you call me cherry?”
“answer me first.” sunghoon placed the bottle on the floor bedside him so he could turn his body to face you once more.
“uh, well i just didn’t want to have sex with him.” you shrugged one shoulder.
“why not?”
“eh eh, i answered you, your turn.” you tsked.
sunghoon bit his lower lip, staring at your lips as he replied, “because of that cherry lip gloss you always wear.”
you were wearing it now. not only did it look good against your skin, it tasted good too, whenever you got your nervous antics and chewed on your lip.
sunghoon always observed you putting that cherry lip gloss on your lips. it started with the cherry chapstick in high school, but just a little over a year ago you started wearing the cherry lip gloss.
“now answer me.” sunghoon demanded.
you took in a deep breath wondering how much or little to tell him. “well,”
“—was it because he wasn’t me?” sunghoon interrupted, your eyes going wide.
“sunghoon, no, what would give you that idea?”
“he told me he heard you calling out another guy’s name while playing with a toy of yours. he looked at me with anger and disbelief as if i had something to do with it.”
your eyes still wide, mouth shaped into an ‘o.’ you laughed nervously waving sunghoon off, “ah, he probably misheard me, that’s all.”
“i don’t believe you cherry.” sunghoon stated, standing up from the couch only to stand directly in front of you. eye level now with his crotch, you looked at him with innocent and confused eyes.
“sunghoon—,”
sunghoon stopped you mid sentence just by his thumbs hooking to the hem of his sweats, only pulling them down a little, teasing to pull out his cock.
“have you only kissed and dry humped him? what else have you done with him while thinking of me?” sunghoon clicked his tongue.
you shook your head. “sunghoon you’re mistaken!”
“sucked taehyun’s dick while thinking of me? mhm, even dry hump him thinking and wishing it was my lap you were rocking against?”
each sentence, sunghoon leaned in closer, mouth inches from yours. he could smell the cherry lip gloss of yours. excited to taste it finally.
you closed your eyes because—it was the truth. all of it. you blurted, “i never had sex with him because i’m a virgin!”
sunghoon chuckled, raising to his full height again. with a smirk, “mhm so my cherry was waiting to get her cherry popped by her enemy.”
you tightened your legs closer together for friction, but also to prevent yourself from becoming any wetter at just his words.
your movement didn’t go unnoticed from sunghoon. he got down on his knees in front of you. “has my cherry thought about getting ate out from her enemy? have you imagined it was me instead of taehyun going down on you?”
you shook your head, wanting to not believe this was happening. it wasn’t until you felt sunghoon’s teeth bite your thigh through your own bottoms, you snapped your eyes open.
“what was that for!”
sunghoon laughed, “be honest baby.” then, you nodded. “guess i’ll have to make your imagination become reality, huh?”
quick and easy, he got your bottoms off of your legs, and used his thumb to tease your clit through your underwear. a wet spot already beginning to form.
sunghoon’s eyes sparkled with neediness and excitement. he got up from his knees, you internally protesting, until his lips captures yours into a searing kiss.
he whispered against your lips, “so tasty, cherry,” as he continued to intensely work his lips against yours, loving the cherry lip gloss against his own lips.
he soon fell back to his knees, kissing up your right thigh before he moved your underwear to the side, poking his index finger to your cunt. he was met with tightness and some resistance, but only because it was a new feeling, new fingers for you. long, fingers to be exact.
sunghoon poked his index finger in your hole, followed by his middle finger, your legs opening wider for him, head rolling to the back of the couch with a groan. your hands gripped the couch, fingers digging into the cushions.
sunghoon then added a third finger, his ring finger, and your right leg went to hook over his shoulder, him holding your left wide open for him.
it was so much you wanted to snap your legs closed. sunghoon rocked his fingers in and out a few times, until your wetness covered his fingers, and he pulled out, quickly undressing you of your underwear. but just as quickly as his fingers were gone, it was replaced with his tongue and lips.
“sung—hoon!” you sang into a moan, left hand gripping his locks.
he moaned into your cunt, lapping up the juices you had to offer to him, occasionally using his k-9 teeth to nibble on your folds and clit. when his lips found home onto your clit, using his tongue to swirl, teeth to nibble, three of his fingers entered back into your cunt, no warning or teasing. he began rocking his fingers in and out in a medium pace, his tongue flicking your bud.
your chest and stomach began to tighten, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, head rolling onto the back of the couch from left to right. he removed his lips, fingers still, only to spit on your cunt, and got right back to work as if he didn’t pause to begin with.
this orgasm was about to be intense. taehyun never gave you mind blowing head like this. he was always decent, though. but sunghoon’s tongue was magic and had you coming way too soon.
“hoon!” you moaned loudly, hoping no one outside the door could hear you. “i’m—hoon, i—come—my goodness!” you babbled.
sunghoon used only his tongue while you came down from your first orgasm of the night.
your body jerked from the overstimulation, you pushing sunghoon’s head away.
“taste so good, cherry. better than i imagined.” he whispered once again, against your lips, before kissing you, his tongue poking through to find yours.
while kissing him, sunghoon grabbed you by your thighs so he picked you up and held you, turning around so he sat on the couch with you straddling him.
your wetness immediately started to stain his sweats, but he didn’t care. “hump me, cherry.”
“like this?” you asked. he wanted you to hump him? you bare below, him with his sweats?
you squealed when a palm of his came down to your bare ass. “it wasn’t an option, cherry.”
you nodded, biting your lip, as you began to rock your hips back and forth and in circles around his cock which was imprinting through his sweats. your cunt could feel the outline of him, getting wetter with each movement.
soon, you were on your way to your second orgasm. sunghoon’s hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements as you became more sloppy, only worried about reaching your second orgasm.
“that’s it cherry, use me like you’ve always wanted.” fuck sunghoon’s words were not (but was) helping.
your hands gripped his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as your movements increased as your orgasm was approaching.
your thighs started to become wet from your own juices, a big spot covering sungoon’s outline.
sunghoon pulled you closer as you came, he began sucking and kissing your neck, sending you over the edge even more.
your movements slowed down, as his hands stayed glued to your hips. your breathing became heavy against his collarbone, you giving it a peck, leaving a lip mark.
you’ve had two orgasms, sunghoon none. you leaned back to look sunghoon in the eyes. “what about you coming?”
sunghoon’s lips perked up, “cherry, i’ll come, don’t you worry.”
sunghoon from underneath, pulled down his sweat pants, your thighs and cunt somewhat hovering over him. you felt his tip brush against your folds, your body shivering with excitement.
you only hoped your toys prepared you enough for this moment. sunghoon pushed his sweats off as far as he could, down to his ankles. his shirt came off next, along with yours, leaving you both completely naked.
“cherry, i hope you used a dildo big enough.” he stated as he pulled a condom out from between the couch cushions. you were to entranced to even comment on that.
you bit your lip, “i hope so too, hoon.” you sighed against his lips, kissing him, as he helped you ease down on his hard cock after he put on the condom.
you bit down on his lip when he fully pushed you down on his length, a loud moan coming from you both.
“fuck, so tight cherry.” sunghoon groaned, head leaning back against the couch. “those toys did nothing to prepare you for me.”
you stayed still, both in a comfortable position. “i’m scared to move.”
“just go slow, okay?” sunghoon’s fingertips ran up and down your spine to comfort you. with a sigh of pleasure, you lifted your hips to the tip only, to slowly push back down.
you were sure you felt him in your stomach. slowly, you kept a rhythm of up and down on his length, occasionally rocking your clit forward for friction.
soon your thighs were starting to tense and become tired. “hoon, can—can you take over please?” you sighed against his cheek, nose resting in his neck.
without even removing himself from in you, sunghoon stood up from the couch, your wetness dripping in between the both of you. he carried you over to his bed, your legs wrapped around him.
he laid you on the bed, again, never slipping from inside you. his hand found one of your hips, the other resting against your cheek.
“let me know if it’s too much.” sunghoon stated before he pulled out completely only to push back with such force, your cunt squelched, your eyes shutting, a loud moan leaving your lips.
“fuck! sunghoon!”
you wasn’t expecting that. but honestly, you wasn’t expecting or even wanting him to be gentle.
for the next however long, which felt like hours, sunghoon rutted his cock in and out of your cunt with ease, your wetness spilling out on your thighs and his.
his thumb came down to your clit, rubbing left, right, up, and down, stimulating you just right to bring you to your third orgasm of the night.
“that’s it cherry, baby come on my cock. come on your first cock. fuck!” sunghoon moaned. “such a dirty slut thinking about your enemy while with that ex of yours.”
“hoon—sorry,” you apologized for no reason at all. why was you apologizing?
“wanted me to be the one to pop your cherry? got your wish.” sunghoon sighed, his pace of thrusts speeding up and becoming sloppy as he was chasing his first orgasm. “fucking whore thinking of me while playing with your toys. imagining it was me eating you out. kissing you. all while with—,”
with a loud, explosive moan, you cut sunghoon off as you came for the third time. no squirting involved, but you did have so much wetness dripping out of you, anyone could be mistaken.
sunghoon released into the condom with a low, throaty, growl-like moan, collapsing on top of you before rolling off.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
sometime in the middle of the night, you heard hush whispers. you didn’t move an inch, only somewhat, subconsciously listening.
“sorry man, i can ask her to leave?”
“absolutely not! i’ll go bunk with her roommate for this trip. once i tell her why i need somewhere to sleep she will be more than thrilled.”
it was heeseung, coming in after 3 am. once he saw you and sunghoon in the same bed, he didn’t even ask questions, only smiled.
about damn time you two fucked the anger out of one another.
sunghoon crawled back in bed next to you, your body only covered by a shirt of his. sunghoon stared at your sleeping figure with a smile.
you were finally his.
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earthchica · 4 months ago
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Can't Hide Love
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terry richmond x black, fem! reader
summary: you're afraid of getting hurt and denying the love you feel for Terry, so you reject him when he confesses his feelings for you, but later, you might regret that decision.
warnings: light angst, jealousy, playing mind games, use of the n-word, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub, thighjob, daddy kink, choking kink, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, friends to lovers, nicknames (shorty, lil mama, baby, baby girl), words: 2k
note:
sequel to I Want You
-
You and Terry sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, the morning sunlight streaming through the window and casting a warm glow on your plates.
As you both chewed your breakfast, an unspoken tension filled the air, making the clinking of cutlery sound almost deafening. You couldn’t help but notice how Terry's eyes held yours, their intensity unyielding.
After an eternity, you decided to break the silence, leaning forward slightly as you finally said, "Last night was real fun but it can't happen again."
Terry clenched his jaw and looked at you, confused. "Wait, what, why?" He asked, his voice earnest and searching, his eyes trying to uncover the truth.
"I mean… if you think I only want sex, then you're mistaken. I like you a lot, shorty. I've felt this way for a while now and would love to take you on a date.” He added.
His expression shifted as he processed your confession. “I like you too, Terry, but…” Your voice trailed off, thick with hesitation and unspoken feelings.
You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “I just don’t think I can handle anything more than what we have; let's stay friends,” you finished, hoping to keep things uncomplicated.
Terry's disappointment was noticeable, and he tried to conceal the hurt rising in his chest. He nodded as if he understood, even though every part of him wanted to question your rejection.
“Okay!” he said with a shrug, quickly finishing his orange juice to mask his feelings. He moved to the sink to clean his plate, the sound of clinking dishes filling the silence between you.
You were taken aback by his reaction. “Okay, that’s it?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you crossed your arms, a mix of disbelief and concern surfacing within you.
Terry turned his head slightly, a blank look on his face. “What do you want to say?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in genuine curiosity. You took a breath and shook your head. "Nothing."
The two of you left at that, and a few days went by after you rejected him. You were busy preparing for your art gallery opening, feeling excited and nervous.
When the event finally kicked off, you scanned the crowd hoping Terry was coming to at least to support you. Your heart skipped a beat when he walked in with a bouquet of roses.
“Yo, look who made it!” Terry called out with a broad smile, and you felt a rush of warmth. Terry approached you and hugged you quickly before pulling away and handing you the bouquet.
“These are for you. I’m proud of you, shorty, for real. These pieces are dope.” Terry said, honestly looking around at your artwork and your heart fluttered.
“Oh, thank you, Terry. It means a lot to have you here, I thought you weren't coming after, you know,” you replied, trying to keep it cool despite the knot of mixed feelings in your chest.
"Hey...despite that, we're good!" Terry said, reassuring you and placing his hand on your shoulder. You smiled brightly, moving your eyes away.
You waved your assistant over, who wasn't too far away to take the bouquet to you before going back to Terry. “Come on, I want to show you my favorites,” you said, leading him through the gallery.
As you walked, you pointed out different pieces. “This one is inspired by the culture of New Orleans. I wanted to capture that moment of the people.”
Terry nodded, genuinely impressed. “I see you, shorty! That’s hot!” You smiled and continued to show him your work, each piece sparking a conversation-filled detailed explanation.
Finally, you stopped before a special painting that you had kept hidden. “And this one,” you said nervously, “is for you.” As Terry looked at the painting, his eyes widened.
It was a portrait of him, perfectly capturing his eyes and bright smile. “Wow, you painted me? I don't remember you asking for permission to use my likeness,” he joked, grinning widely.
“But I'll let it slide because this is really dope, girl. You really outdid yourself. You’ve got me looking good!” Terry remarked, studying the details closely.
Your heart fluttered as you replied, “Thank you. I'm glad you love it; it means a lot to me.” Terry nodded and stepped back, admiring the piece fully with a playful smirk.
“You once said you only paint intimate pieces like this when you’re in love. So, what does this mean?” he asked, looking into your eyes, searching for an answer.
You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “Terry, this isn't the time or place.”
He stepped a little closer, a teasing grin still on his face. “Come on now, don’t act like I ain't onto something here. You gotta admit, this painting is special—just like us.”
You shook your head, trying to brush it off. “For real, Terry, drop it.”
“Why you gotta be like that? You know deep down you love me,” he said, his voice earnest but still playful. “I mean, who else you gonna paint like that? You had that canvas waiting just for me.”
You laughed softly, but it was a nervous laugh. “It’s just art, Terry. Ain’t gotta mean all that. You know I paint a lot of folks.”
Terry stepped even closer, leaning in a bit. “Nah, shorty, don’t play me. I see how you look at me when you think I ain't watching. You can't hide the love.”
You glanced over your shoulder, noting your other friends arriving. “Look, Lana and Kayla are here.” You took a step back, creating some space between you. “We can talk later, alright?”
He let out a sigh. “That's cool, and I know you’ll miss me when I move on.” As you walked away, you could feel him watching, his lingering gaze heavy on your back.
You greeted your other friends with a smile, hoping the moment with Terry would fade into the background. As the night went on, you went to look around for Terry.
Your eyes land on him as he chats with a stunning dark-skinned woman who is clearly attracted to Terry. She leans close, laughing at his joke while touching his arm.
You felt a pang of jealousy twist in your stomach. You decided to talk to him, hoping to get his attention. “Terry, can we talk for a second, please?”
Terry barely glanced your way, his attention still locked on the woman. “Yeah, just a sec!” he called, waving you off. You tilled your head, looking at him sideways.
You feel frustrated and a little petty, so you turn your gaze back to the crowd. Feeling bold, you spotted an attractive white guy across the room who seemed interested.
You walked over, flashing a charming smile, and began chatting and playfully flirting with the pretty man named Charles. You could feel Terry’s gaze, but you didn't look back.
You showed Charles some of your artwork, and you noticed Terry following you too closely, as did the woman he was walking to. You had where you just wanted.
“Hey, you wanna grab a drink after this?” Charles asked, leaning closer. You considered it, tempted to make Terry feel what you were feeling.
As you were about to answer with him, Terry finally broke away from the girl and stormed over. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his tone sharper than you expected.
“Just having fun, Terry, and meeting new people like Charles here,” you replied, crossing your arms as you shot him defiantly. “I thought you were busy talking to some girl .”
“Stop playing with me. You’re just trying to make me jealous, aren’t you?” he said, frustration evident in his voice. “I’m gonna go,” Charles replied.
You and Terry ignored him and he just walked away. “Yeah, only because you started it and completely ignored me talking to that trick?” you shot back.
Your words are laced with a bitter edge. A tense silence fell between you as the atmosphere crackled with unresolved emotions. Terry pulled you into the quiet space.
The tension between you was real, and confusion danced in his eyes. “Why you all pressed about me talkin’ to some girl?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “You turned me down, remember twice?”
You took a deep breath, feeling the heat of his body close to yours. “I know…T I messed up, okay? I’m just scared!” You said, the words tumbling before you could think.
“I didn’t want to get hurt. You know my last few relationships were rough. I thought shutting you out would help me, but it worsened everything.”
His expression softened, but he still looked conflicted. “So, you rejected me twice and then got mad when I started lookin’ elsewhere, then tried to make me jealous. Shit is childish, shorty.”
You nodded, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I know, and I'm sorry, but I realize I want to give this a chance; I want you, Terry, and I want to go on a date if the offer is still open.”
Terry stepped closer, his fingertips grazing your dark brown skin, sending shivers down your spine. “It's cool, and hurting you is the last thing I want to do, baby If I’m feelin’ you, I’m all in, no games.”
Your heart raced at his words, the warmth of his body drawing you in. “I want to be all in, too. Show me that taking this jump is okay," You said, you could feel the pull between you.
With that, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his. All the pent-up tension exploded as you kissed him fiercely. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the world around you fade away.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. “I'll show you, baby, but first, let’s get out of here,” Terry suggested, and without a second thought, you followed him out of the event.
-
The familiar surroundings felt comforting and charged as you returned to the apartment. Both of you didn’t make it to either of the bedrooms.
Terry leaned in and kissed you hungrily in a sudden burst of lust, his lips warm against yours, his scuffed beard tickling you slightly. He gently pressed your back against the wall.
His hands were all over your body, removing your panties as his lips didn't even separate from yours. You pulled away, helped him out of his shirt, and then pushed his pants with his boxers down.
Terry kicks them off before unzipping your dress and taking it off. He cursed, biting his lip at the sight of your exposed breasts. "Terry" You let out a moan.
You grabbed the back of his head, feeling his braids. He twirled his tongue on your nipple like it was a sucker before sucking it into his mouth.
Terry looked up at you with those pretty light eyes of his with so much desire before popping your nipple off his mouth. He kisses you, dancing his tongue against yours.
He crouches with his legs wide out and gripping your hips. He begins thrusting his throbbing dick through the gap of your thighs. "You feel that, baby? You feel how hard you make me," Terry asked.
"Yes, fuck Terry. I feel so good; keep going, please," You moaned in pleasure, feeling him thrust faster through the soaking wetness of your pussy lips.
You throw your head back, loving the feel of his large hands gripping the plump rounds of your ass. "Mmm fuck" You bite your lip, rolling your hips and trying to match his rhythm slightly.
"Fuck, I need to be inside of that pretty pussy, baby." Terry moans, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into a kiss. He lifts your leg to hold you on his hip, and you look at him.
You licked your fingers and rubbed your clit before letting him line himself toward your pussy. He thrusts in slowly while looking deeply into your eyes.
You kissed him and gripped his shoulder as he began fucking you against the wall. "Ahhh, fuck me fuck me, Terry, this dick is good," you moaned in pleasure.
"You like getting fucked against the wall, huh, lil mama?" Terry asked, his voice low, watching your eyes roll back in your head, leading it against the wall.
He lifts you fully, grabs both of your legs under his arms, and begins pounding harder. "Oh my goodness, yes....and....you love this pussy don't you, huh?" You asked.
Your eyes seductively, staring into his soul. "Yeah, I fucking love this pussy, lil mama. This pussy is my mine, you hear me, nobody else? You got that?"
"Yes, yes, Terry, I got it, yes." You nodded at him with a light smirk, grabbing his neck as he continued pounding like a damn beast.
"Let me hear you, baby," Terry said, leaning your back against the wall and kissing your neck. You closed your eyes with your mouth in O, trying to get the words out.
"It's yours, all yours, Terry. Oh my goodness, I'm gonna cum." You moaned, feeling tears of joy coming down your face; the pleasure was so freaking good it brought you to tears.
"Cum, baby, cum on your dick because it's all yours," Terry moaned in your ear, and that is all you needed for you to let out the cry of his name, feeling yourself almost coming on down.
Terry puts you down slightly, has a hold on you to keep you steady, pulls out, and flicks his dick against your clit; you gasp, feeling a gushing of wetness coming out of your pussy.
"Ahhhh fucking shit, muthfucka," You cried, seeing the stars and feeling your body begin to tremble. You could feel yourself slowly falling from the wall.
Terry picks you up bridal style, takes you to your bedroom, and lays you down on your stomach on your bed. He lets you catch your breath as you come down from your high.
"Look at you, got you all breathless and shit; just know i'm not done with you, lil mama," Terry said, giving your ass smack, and you whimpered, feeling him hover over you.
Terry wraps his hand around your neck, gently but firmly tilting your head back, forcing you to look up at him. His intense gaze holds yours.
He kisses you passionately and thrusts inside of you harshly, slightly muffling your moans as he pulls away and grabs your lower back to get a different edge to go deeper.
"So fucking big and so fucking deep, fuck me," You moaned, gripping the sheets of the bed so tight you thought you were going to rip with your bare hands.
Terry lifts himself up and smacks your ass while gripping it in his large hand, watching it jiggle with his every thrust. "Shit, lil mama, after this you're gonna be my girl now.
"And I'm giving you what you deserve; you know I ain't like these other niggas. I'mma take you out and treat you right, okay! I know you love me. You tried to pretend, but I see through it," Terry added.
"Yes, I'm your girl; I wanted it and can't hide love anymore. I want it, Daddy, I love you," you cried out, more tears of joy coming down your face, which made him smirk.
His hands wrap around your neck as you let out loud moans as he thrusts faster and harder with force like no other than before, and he pauses his thrusts for a second, making you whine loudly.
"Say it again, say you love me again," Terry says, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot, still holding your neck.
"Ahhh, I love you, Terry, ahhh fuck I loved you ever since we met," you screamed, feeling yourself coming hard. Terry continued to thrust until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I love you too, baby," Terry said, pulling you into a kiss, feeling his cum spurt into your pussy. He pulls out, watching it drop out of you.
Terry falls against you on the bed a second before flips to lay on his back, and both of you lay there catching your breath. Eventually, you both took a shower.
Terry went to get some night clothes and returned dressed in sweatpants as if you were doing your night routine. You walk out of the bathroom into your bedroom.
You chuckled to see Terry get comfortable under your covers. You walked over to the bed, got in, and snuggled into his chest. You both held each other in a sweet, soft silence.
“You really mean what you said?” you asked, just needing reassurance from him. Terry looked deep into your eyes, his expression soft and beaming.
“I did. You deserve the world, baby girl, and I wanna give you that if you just let me,” he said, being honest. You smiled and said, “I’ma let you, Terry.”
“Good! Um... you meant it when you said you really love me, right? " he asked, and you smiled back and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I really do, Terry. I meant it.”
His eyes lit up with happiness, and he leaned closer, gently kissing your lips. As the moment's warmth enveloped you, you both fell asleep in each other's arms, hoping for the best in the future.
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reallyromealone · 9 months ago
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Seconde chapter of little god?
It just came out so you dont have to
Title: little god 2
Fandom: Jujutsu kaisen
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Megumi, itadori, nobara
Fic type: fluff
Pairings: -
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child reader fluff, god reader
Notes:
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
Every morning was the same routine, Gojo woke up his tiny son who ran around in circles in the yard before coming in for some breakfast that consisted of a variety of foods for the little gods health, (name) pleased as he ate fish and other dishes "thank you papa!" He said as his tail swished, dressed in a more casual yukata compared to his godlier look "no prob, kiddo" Gojo said as he drank his coffee and ate his own meal, smiling at the difference in their tableware.
(Name) Had a cute kid set with zoo animals and plastic cutlery and Gojo with nice china "so today, we get to meet friends of papa"
"Su?"
"No no, not Suguru but he will be there later" Gojo chuckled as the boy looked confused "they're papas students, remember how I told you that I was a teacher?"
" we go?"
"After breakfast we are going" Gojo said happily and (name) bounced excitedly and continued eating his food.
(Name) Sat on his dad's arm as he was carried into the school grounds and Gojo watched as his kid sniffed around curiously "you sniffing, bud?" Gojo teased his son who looked focused "monster" (name) said as coldly as a toddler could as he locked onto Yuji who was waiting with the others at the steps "you can smell sukuna?" Gojo asked and (name) hissed at the mention of the king of curses "you know him?"
"Smelly man"
Gojo cackled at his son who wiggled to be put down, holding his dad's hand as they walked to the student's who looked at the child curious "uh, should a child be here?" Nobara asked as the little one dead stared Yuji "(name), these are papas students" Gojo pushed the boy forward "this is (name), he's my son~ isn't that right?" He crouched to the toddler who pulled some coins and held them out to the teens "it's you!" A mouth opened from Yuji's cheek "smelly!" (Name) Yelled angrily as his horns appeared "whoa, dont go fighting" Gojo held his son back who was ready to throw down.
"Pathetic little cretin, I could rip you--""aaand that's enough!" Gojo lifted his hellion son who tried kicking his dad's student with a growl "we will train at 1130, head to class you three!" he said cheerfully and took his little one away, Yuji tripping up the stairs as if he had two left feet "did you give him misfortune?" Gojo asked the tot who looked angry and frustrated "I know you don't like sukuna, none of us do but you can't hurt my student" he scolded the boy who pouted.
(Name) Was eating salmon and broccoli with cheese while his dad trained the students, abandoning the chop sticks in favor for his dragon form, tail swishing happily as he dived in. "Alright, we will be splitting into twos, let's work with people you aren't used to being teamed with" Gojo paired them up, seeing as his son watched curiously now in human form, face messy as his chubby hands held a piece of salmon "let's do some sparing, I will be right back" Gojo walked to his son and lifted him up "let's clean you up"
"I heard you had a son, didn't believe it" a Zenin clan higher up stated while staring at the toddler, the Gojo duo walking to the rest room "I do have a son, is that a problem?" Gojo stated coldly while adjusting the boy who looked between them, seeing papas glare and decided to match it.
Is it true he's... A god?" They tried to step closer but Gojos infinity halted him from doing so "if you don't mind, we have some business to attend to" the two walked off and (name) stuck his tongue at the Zenin member who glared back.
(Name) Let his dad wash him up, babbling nonsense happily "after school, uncle Suguru is meeting us to take you shopping" Gojo spoke softly, he loved telling his son everything that was happening and their plan. He wanted his son to be included and able to make choices- something he didn't get as a child.
"Susu?" (Name) Asked curiously and Gojo chuckled "yeah, susu"
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yandere-sins · 2 months ago
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Hi! I just currently discovered your works and I love it! Can you do a story where a serial killer (any fictional character you want, as long as it's not real people) who has gotten married to the y/n's mom but he's so obsessed with his new step-daughter the first time they met. The ending's up to you.
Hey! Thank you so much for reading my stories and requesting ♥ Took me some time to think of something, and I won't do a specific character, but I hope you enjoy it regardless!
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
A long time ago, he chose to go down this path.
The decision had to be made; any waver in his resolve would have resulted in him getting caught and locked up for life. Sometimes, it was nice to be with the humans that would end up dead; sometimes, it was merely business. There were some pleasures to take from these gullible idiots. Money, sex, opportunities.
Businesswomen, housewives, lonely singles, and, if he had to, men just as much. They only sought the warmth of a lover, someone who truly understood them. And why would he not accept their gratitude and gifts for so little work as rubbing their back and telling them how special they were? It made them feel better most of the time and him richer, as their gratitude almost always ended in gifts.
And in their contentment, they didn't see the knife that was about to sink into their back as soon as they weren't useful to him anymore.
As soon as their money ran out, the gifts died down, and they started to become suspicious of him; he'd make sure to skip town after burying his latest lover in a ditch. He never met their friends, never saw what the life of his victims was, and especially: he didn't love them.
Oftentimes, he wondered, late at night, after yet another kill, what it was like to be loved and to love. His victims always looked so happy and content, hanging off his arm and whispering the magic words to him at night. What he did wasn't right, but why did it matter when he never got caught? As long as he could live in the lap of luxury that he could never achieve through honest work, he didn't really need much else.
But he was getting old.
Too old to sugar-baby his way through life, at least, too much on par in terms of age now with his victims. It physically hurt him to have to be extra careful in the future when killing random strangers. It would never give him the satisfaction or the looks of betrayal that left him all hot and bothered. But now was the last time he could find someone willing to finance his life, and giving up his prolific murder spree was better than spending the rest of his damnation in a dirty, old motel room with nothing to do.
Thus, his way of life ended. A serial killer turned houseman and loverboy to a very successful CEO and mother. Thanks to his charms, the wedding went through much faster than expected, and soon enough, with a credit card linked to her bank account and well-situated in the luxury home of his now-wife, everything could have stayed like this for a long, long time.
Until you showed up.
You were a blessing and a curse in the form of an adult stepchild. It was weird meeting the family of his victim for the first time. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his mouth began to water, pupils blown wide to spy every inch of deliciousness that you swept through the front door to his home. And despite spikes of murderous desires making his body shake uncontrollably, even more prevalent was the twisting and churning of his heart as it beat viciously against his ribs, blood rushing through his whole body and especially between his legs.
All evening long, he couldn't stop smiling at you. He sat across from you like a silly little teenage boy, nodding and listening to everything you told your mom, words dripping off your lips like honey that he wished to lick up. However, he merely did the next best thing, offering to take care of the dishes so he could lick your plate clean and steal your cutlery to enjoy later. He sat with you long into the night on the couch as you told him about yourself; you two had never met before since the wedding was such a rushed affair, and you were the trust fund child sent to an international college for your studies. There was so much to catch up on and get acquainted with.
If only he had met you sooner.
The time together was short, so he suggested all kinds of family vacations, telling his wife it was totally okay if she couldn't make it, and he'd spend time with you and bond. All was in his favor, and every second spent with you was the happiest of his life. For years, he thought that only riches and luxuries could satisfy him—but not anymore.
He had to have you.
No matter what he had to do, fate had already been decided. There was simply no way to not be with you. Slipping into your bed at night and touching you as much as possible just wasn't enough. Stealing your underwear and imagining you on your knees while he used the fabric on himself didn't quell his urges completely. Not even when he imagined you while pleasing his wife was enough, and neither was smelling you every day and pressing up to you innocently in the kitchen or hanging out with you. You going back to another country to continue your studies? Impossible. It would have killed him.
And then, the painfully put aside urges arose. The ones that screamed for blood and gore, torture, and the satisfaction of witnessing someone's last breath. He had already established himself in your life, and you liked him enough that were you to lose someone dear to you... would you run to him?
The question was just a hypothesis, but one that had him rock hard and twitching as he stared at the ceiling at night, feeling his wife—your mother—in his arm, sighing contently. What was her testament like? Would there be enough to live happily ever after with you? Would you accept your stepdad as more than just a superficial family member? Would you let him hold you? Kiss you? Lick you? Make you scream and sob?
Would you allow him to drag you into hell with him, even though he'd make it seem like heaven?
It had always been his way of doing things. Pretend to be someone perfect, pleasant, and loveable, when really, he was this cruel, pathetic monster. But a long time, he chose to go down this path of embracing the beast, and sitting up in his bed, he remembered still holding onto the table knife you used on the first day you returned home. It would be awful, downright gruesome, to be killed by her own daughter's knife, wouldn't it? Your mom would feel so betrayed by being stabbed in the middle of the night; it would be heart-wrenching and devastating.
Absolutely exhilarating.
Why change something that had always worked for him?
By tomorrow morning, you would be his.
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ariseur · 10 months ago
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hi!! could i request ignis with a reader who's super flirty? i just think iggy is so attractive and want to know how you think he'd react to being told that lol
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the crickets around you chirped in tune with the inner melody playing in your head, a soft song muttered under your breath and a tap of your fingers left you satisfied while you watched ignis work. his back was facing you; his sleek, dark grey button-up hugging on him while he made another dish. after the day you guys had, he couldn’t help but make some more food per your request— especially since gladio and you had gathered some herbs nearby. observing the man in front of you some more, you stared at him with no shame. after all, it wasn’t everyday that ignis didn’t gel his hair.
the brown color of his hair now parted with an acacia orange as it accentuated even the tiniest strands of hair. pieces of it covered the back of his neck and what you presumed was the front of his face. silently, you prayed for some water to come his way so you’d see more of this side of him. he looked so content, ignis always did when he was cooking.
you couldn’t stop the next words tumbling from your mouth. “have i ever told you how pretty you look with your hair like that?” even through the distant crackling of the camp fire and the chattering of gladio and prompto talking about only astrals know what, your voice cleared its own pathway throughout the faint noises and wiggled its way into ignis’ head, hoping his soon heating cheeks would be covered with an excuse of the fire.
he still faced away from you, hand languidly stirring the pot in which contained a stew from whatever ingredients were able to be gathered in the seas surrounding the galdin quay, provided to you guys by noctis’ skilled fishing. ignis cleared his throat, swallowing thickly before responding, “thank you, although i wouldn’t have thought that ‘pretty’ was the right word to describe a man such as myself.”
getting up to help him clean up, you watched him out of the corner of your eye; his glasses glinting with the warm glow of the nearby fire. you hummed mindlessly, almost dismissing his claim. “nonsense, anybody can be labeled as pretty.” and to that, he chuckled—brushing off his pink ears. “i suppose.”
letting out a giggle, you made ignis’ heart flutter once more. his head turned towards you, an amused smile resting on his face. he admired the way the auburn flames lit up your face as it highlighted your features; he sunk in the way your eyes crinkled when you beamed, along with the way your shoulders shook with your soft laughter. looking back at him, you pointed at his face. you paused a bit, turning your attention back to cleaning the cutting boards and cutlery which had been used by the brute of food known as noctis. always such a messy eater, you recalled. even gladio ate cleaner than noct did.
blinking up at him, you huffed again, “c’mon iggy, you know it. you’re even heating up— at the truth, might i add.”
hearing the familiar nickname laced with your sweet tone of voice fall from your lips made his heart beat a little louder— ( even if he’s heard it plenty of times before from his friends, hearing it from you felt different. almost strange. )
he scoffed amusedly. “it’s quite hot out here if you haven’t noticed.” blaming his pink cheeks on the vennaugh haven you lot had made yourself comfortable in, he brushed off your comments as you rolled your eyes at him with a mumbled, “whatever you say, iggy.”
“don’t start with that now.”
“what? what’d i do this time?” you grinned, tilted your head at him with a tone intertwined with feigned coyness. he sighed, shaking his head. “oh,” you said, dragging out the vowel perhaps longer than you needed to, “you just don’t wanna give into my super charming character. i get it.” putting your hands up in a defensive manner, you pushed more. he groaned, eyes still focused on the pot. “yes, quite the charmer.”
you scoffed dramatically, “why did that sound sarcastic?” he hummed in denial, shaking his head at your silly questions. “admit it,” you said, “you’re just salty i made you blush.”
“you did not.”
“i did, too.”
and before you could keep going on with this foolish game of who’ll crack first, a voice cleared their throat behind you. the two of you turned your heads only to see noctis with a hand on his hip and cocked head. ignis and you exchanged a glance as you both paused your movements. noctis grinned lazily as he teased, “what’re you guys talking about?”
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parkerslatte · 8 months ago
Text
Finding Home || Part Eight
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: smut. fingering. blowjob. masterbation.
Summary: Y/N goes out on her date and leaves Azriel alone. When she returns, she admits something to him she wouldn’t have when she was sober.
Finding Home Masterlist
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
When Y/N left that morning, the smile fell from Azriel’s face. It was the day of her date and all he wanted to do was get on his hands and knees and beg her to go with him instead. To distract himself, Azriel cleaned around Y/N’s apartment. 
He cleaned and tidied even if he didn’t need to. Anything to get his mind off of Y/N’s date that night. He had checked in with Feyre when he woke that morning about how the painting was going. Apparently painting takes time and Azriel shouldn't rush her. He huffed out a laugh and continued to fold the blanket he had in his hands. 
The more Azriel cleaned dishes, washed down Y/N’s countertops and sorted everything out, he began to feel a slight pain in his chest. This should be the life he should have had years ago. Azriel never considered himself a domestic person, preferring the life of training and working. But the moment his family all found their mates and true love and began to talk to him about what happened the previous night. When Cassian complained about the chores he had to do when the House of Wind sided with Nesta in an argument (which was all the time). When Rhys and Feyre would come into a meeting tired and talked about staying up all night because Nyx wouldn’t settle. When Mor announced that she and Emerie were moving in together. 
Azriel had no escape from the happiness around him. He hadn’t had to bring someone to his dungeon in Hewn City in nearly ten months. The missions he was sent on didn’t take up nearly the same amount of time they normally did but sometimes Azriel would find ways to stretch them out. 
After constantly craving work and training, Azriel couldn’t believe that he was now sorting out Y/N’s cutlery and finding himself enjoying it. Maybe he was finally maturing at his big age. Maybe it made him feel useful. Azriel knew the real answer but didn’t want to admit it to himself. 
He continued to dote around the apartment. 
***
When Y/N returned that evening, she was shocked to see Azriel making dinner. He wore her apron and bit his lip in concentration. 
“What are you making?” Y/N asked, knocking Azriel out of his concentration. 
“Dinner,” Azriel said. “I don’t know exactly what but I remember you mentioning it once.”
“It smells amazing,” Y/N said, walking over to join him at his side. 
“I am not just a pretty face,” Azriel teased. 
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Who told you that?”
“I know you’ve been thinking it,” Azriel retorted. 
Y/N held his gaze for a moment before clearing her throat and looked away. “I need to get ready for my date. Try not to burn the building down.”
As Y/N left the kitchen, Azriel watched her walk away, feeling a tightening in his chest. He ignored it and went back to preparing his dinner. 
***
Azriel served up his dinner onto a plate, feeling extremely excited to eat it. Just as he pulled out the chair to sit—
“Az,” Y/N called from her bedroom. “I need help!”
Azriel got to his feet instantly and walked the short distance to her bedroom. He lightly pushed open the door. “Yes?”
“I need you to help me lace the rest of my dress up,” Y/N said, opening the door for him. “I managed to get the bottom part done but I can’t reach any further.”
The moment she was revealed to him, Azriel’s mouth opened in shock. Standing before him was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. Her dress was a deep crimson and flowed around her legs effortlessly. With every movement the dress moved around her like dancing flames.  
“Eyes up here, soldier,” Y/N teased. 
“I—I…” Azriel said, unable to get any words out. 
“I guess I look okay?” Y/N said. 
Azriel could only nod as he stepped further into the room as if enchanted by her. 
A laugh slipped past Y/N’s lips as she turned her back to Azriel. He simply stepped up and placed his hands on the two ribbons on the back of her dress. 
As he began to lace up the dress, he couldn’t help but inhale the scent of Y/N’s perfume. It was intoxicating to him. He began to pull the ribbons tighter, winching in the dress for her. His fingertips brushed her bare back and Azriel savoured the touch. 
Once he was done, Flavi turned around with a wide smile. “Thank you,” she said brightly and Azriel thought she couldn’t be more stunning. 
“You’re welcome,” Azriel muttered, his voice low and wanting. 
“I need your genuine opinion though,” Y/N said, stepping back, her fingers fiddling with her necklace, which Azriel was sure was more pink than it was a second ago. “Do I wear these earrings or other ones? I don’t think these go with the dress.” 
The earrings did go with the dress but Azriel pretended to look to have an excuse to admire her for a moment longer. 
Azriel suddenly gasped. “Wait here!”
He rushed from Y/N’s bedroom and to his bag in the corner of the living room. He had hidden the small box containing the earrings there after they had returned from the market. He quickly took them and returned to Y/N’s bedroom. 
“I know that you will most likely be mad at me,” Azriel began, “but just know that I haggled for them.”
He revealed the box to Y/N and she took it with unsure hands. “This isn’t a trick is it? It’s not going to turn into a large monster and eat me alive.”
Azriel laughed. “Just open it.”
A gasp left Y/N the moment she opened the box. “Azriel you didn’t…”
“I did,” Azriel said sheepishly. 
“But I told you not to spend so much money on me,” Y/N said. 
“And I didn’t listen,” Azriel replied. He wouldn’t admit to Y/N that he paid even more than the price he offered Y/N. 
“But—“ Y/N said, not being able to find the words. 
Instead she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Azriel stiffened for a moment and Y/N began to pull away. 
“Sorry,” Y/N said. 
Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her back tightly, burying his head into the crook of her neck. “Don’t apologise.”
“Thank you so much, Azriel,” Y/N muttered. 
“You don’t need to thank me,” Azriel replied. 
The hug lingered for a brief moment more before Y/N pulled away first and turned to her mirror to put the earrings on. “There. Perfect.”
Y/N turned around. “How do I look?”
“Beautiful,”
Y/N smiled. “I should get going. The restaurant is about a twenty minute walk. I don’t want to be late.”
Azriel nodded. “Have fun.”
“I will,” Y/N said. “Don’t burn down my apartment.”
Azriel huffed out a laugh. “I’ll try not to.”
With a parting smile, Y/N picked up her small bag and left the room. He heard the front door open and close. Azriel was left alone once more. 
He calmed his racing heartbeat and left Y/N’s bedroom and returned to his dinner. It didn’t look so appetising anymore, reminding him too much of the meals he ate on his own when his family was busy. 
Azriel reached for the bottle of alcohol and poured it into a glass. He finished it one go. He poured another one immediately. Azriel began to eat his dinner in complete silence. 
***
The alcohol had gone to Azriel’s brain. He wasn’t drunk but he was sure that if he finished off the bottle, he would be. Reluctantly Azriel placed the bottle down and slumped against the couch. His dinner was long gone and he was left with nothing to do. 
Y/N had been gone for nearly two hours and Azriel’s shadows became restless as if they were looking for her. He didn’t try to stop them. 
Y/N wasn’t due back for another couple of hours so the moment she stepped into her apartment, Azriel was shocked. 
“You’re early,” Azriel commented. 
Y/N laughed humorously. “I would have been earlier if I didn’t stick around the restaurant and had dinner on my own since he never showed up.”
Azriel’s head snapped to face her. “He didn’t show up.”
Y/N kicked off her shoes, stumbling slightly. “No. I stood outside of that restaurant for forty five minutes before I went in to see about the reservation. He didn’t even make it like he told me he would.”
“I’m sorry,” Azriel said sincerely. “I knew you were excited.”
Y/N slumped down on the couch next to him. “Everyone in that restaurant looked at me in pity as I say on my own. It was embarrassing. The restaurant gave me a free bottle of wine too.”
Azriel’s shadows swarmed around Y/N’ lightly caressing her skin. A small smile was brought to her lips. 
“I’m sure he wasn’t worth your time,” Azriel said. 
“He probably wasn’t,” Y/N said. “But I was hoping to…no it’s embarrassing to admit.”
“What?” Azriel asked. 
“No, I can’t,” Y/N said. 
“It’s unlike you to get embarrassed around me,” Azriel said. 
Y/N rolled her eyes. “No. But this is just embarrassing to admit to anyone.”
“You can tell me,” Azriel said. 
Y/N sighed. “I am probably only telling you this because I’ve had a whole bottle of wine to myself.”
Azriel chuckled quietly. 
“I didn’t go on this date to find the love of my life,” Y/N said. “I only went because I’ve just been so…pent up recently. And I cannot give myself the satisfaction I need.”
“Oh,” Azriel said. 
“See, it’s an embarrassing thing to admit,” Y/N muttered. 
“It’s not embarrassing,” Azriel replied. “It’s normal.”
“It’s not embarrassing that I cannot satisfy myself so I turn to the first male in years to ask me on a date to reach that satisfaction,” Y/N said before groaning. “I just feel on edge right now.”
Y/N turned and looked at Az. He could feel the heat in her eyes and the pent up frustration. The burning desire in her eyes. 
He wasn’t sure what overcame him. 
“I could help with that,” Azriel offered. 
“What?” Y/N said. 
Azriel shrugged. “I will admit that I have been pent up for a while too. And since we both have been quite…pent up for a while. We could help one another. We trust one another.”
“Is this a serious offer, Az,” Y/N said. “Because if you are just telling a really shitty joke—“
“It’s not a joke,” Azriel replied, his hand inching towards hers. 
“So you are being serious?” Y/N asked. 
“Yes,” Azriel replied, his voice quiet and breathless. 
“I…” Y/N said, her eyes roaming around Azriel’s face. 
She didn’t say anything else as she surged forward and pressed her lips against Azriel’s. He could taste the drink on her tongue. Sweet compared to the bitter drink he had consumed. It only made him kiss her harder. His hands tangled in her hair, gripping tight. Y/N groaned into his mouth. 
“Fuck, Az,” Y/N gasped, manovering to straddle his hips, her dress bunching around her waist. 
Azriel kissed her again and pressed his body against hers, feeling every inch of her. His hands cupped her ass and squeezed tightly. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her body. He craved to touch her. 
With haste, Y/N began to unbutton the shirt Azriel wore to expose his warm skin. 
“Eager,” Azriel commented, his pupils blown wide with lust.
“Never too eager, my love,” Y/N said breathlessly, ripping the shirt from his body and throwing it to the floor. 
The moment Azriel felt Y/N’s hands on his chest, he let out a deep growl. His hands gripped her thighs and felt under the dress until he squeezed her bare hips.
“No underwear?” Azriel asked.
“I was expecting to get lucky tonight,” Y/N said. 
“You are,” Azriel said and crashed his lips against hers once more. Teeth clashed, tongues explored each other's mouths and Azriel couldn’t help but think of how right it felt. 
The sleeve of Y/N’s dress fell down her shoulder and exposed the top of her breast. The hunger within Azriel only grew. He unlaced Y/N’s dress easily and it grew loose around her upper body. Y/N’s hands instantly pressed against her chest to preserve her modesty. 
Azriel’s eyes softened. “It’s just me.”
Y/N nodded before she kissed him and allowed her dress to fall away. 
Azriel couldn’t take his eyes away from Y/N’s bare form as he touched what he could, pulling sweet noises from her lips. 
“You’re perfect,” Azriel muttered against her skin.
“Look who’s talking,” Y/N said, tracing the tattoos on his chest. 
Azriel kissed her again and began to move his hands closer to the inner part of her thighs and higher. Y/N let out a whine. Azriel could already feel the heat coming from her. The wetness gathered between her legs. Azriel could smell it and he needed her now. 
“Are you still sure, Y/N?” Azriel asked. 
“Yes,” Y/N gasped for air. “Please, Azriel, just touch me.”
This time Azriel pulled her in for a sweet kiss and slowly moved his fingers to gather the wetness between her thighs, feeling along the folds of her pussy and slowly sank in two fingers. Azriel’s eyes rolled to the back of his head the moment he felt her squeeze around him. The warmth, the tightness. It was all he ever imagined. 
“Oh, fuck,” Y/N whined. 
“Y/N…” Azriel gasped, his hips jerking, wanting friction on his cock desperately. 
“Fuck me, Az,” Y/N continued to whine as gasp and Azriel set a slow pace, his thumb hovering over her clit. 
Y/N’s hips twitched, seemingly seeking more. 
Azriel pressed open mouthed kisses on her chest anc up her neck and sped up his pace. The grip Y/N had on his shoulders tightened and her nails dug in. Azriel craved more. 
“More. Give me more, Azriel,” Y/N cried. “Fucking hells, give me more.”
Azriel complied and slipped another finger alongside his other two. Y/N panted against his mouth. 
“Ride my fingers,” Azriel said, his voice low and unrestrained. 
Y/N moved her hips faster and harder, chasing after the orgasm. 
“Good girl,” Azriel panted, rolling her nipple between his fingers causing Y/N to arch her back.
“Feels good,” Y/N whined, trying to get more friction on her clit. Azriel’s thumb barely touched it making Y/N more frustrated by the minute. 
“Imagine how it would feel with my cock instead,” Azriel whispered, letting the words roll off his tongue without thinking. “Imagine how it would fill you up, stretch this tight pussy for me.”
“Azriel,” Y/N whimpered. “Please I need more.”
At her sounds of pleasure, Azriel’s cock strained in his trousers. He was sure that he could finish just from the sounds emitting from Y/N. 
Azriel pressed his thumb harder against her clit and Y/N cried out, pulling at his hair. Azriel groaned at the feeling. 
“Yes, Az, right there,” Y/N panted. “Harder, please…”
Azriel circled her clit as he kissed down her neck, finding each and every sweet spot to pull more of the delicious noises from her mouth. 
“I’m close, Az,” Y/N said, pulling his head from her neck to meet her lips. “I need to come. Please…”
Y/N’s breath caressed his lips and she rested her forehead against his as she began to move her hips faster on his fingers, chasing that orgasm she had been desperately craving. 
“Come for me, Y/N,” Azriel said, his lips brushing against hers. “I need to feel you coming on my fingers.”
“Oh, Az,” Y/N gasped as she threw her head back and Azfriel could then feel as she came hard over him. Her pussy squeezed his fingers and Azriel could only imagine what it would feel like around his cock which was harder than it had ever been. 
“Fuck…” Y/N whined before she crashed her lips against Azriel’s, riding out her high. 
As her hips stilled, Y/N pulled away from Azriel’s lips, breathing hard. Azriel was sure he was breathing the same. 
He slowly removed his fingers from her and Y/N gasped, her grip tightening on his shoulders. Azriel wished he could see the sight before him tattoos onto his brain. 
Azriel wasn’t sure what took over his body as he slowly licked his fingers clean. The moment he had a taste, Azriel craved more. He imagined what it would be like to sink to his knees and bury his face between her thighs. He could only dream of the taste. 
“Azriel…” Y/N whined. 
Azriel removed his fingers from his mouth and leaned forward, his hands gently squeezing her hips. 
“Y/N…” Azriel whispers, resting his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, revelling in her closeness for a moment longer. He knew that this moment between them would be broken soon enough and all Azriel wanted was to remember the feeling. Remember how Y/N made him feel. 
The moment was broken too soon as Y/N pulled away from him. Azriel's hands reached out for her as she got further from him. He missed the warmth she brought. 
Y/N shuffled so she kneeled on the floor. She gently touched Azriel’s knees and parted them to allow her to sit between them, never breaking eye contact. 
“What are you doing?” Azriel asked.
“Returning the favour,” Y/N replied. 
Before Azriel could process anything, Y/N unlaced his trousers and the moment her hand brushed over his clothes cock, his hips jerked, seeking more contact. 
She pulled him out of his trousers and Azriel gasped as her warm hands wrapped around him. He gripped the pillow next to him, knuckles turning white. 
“Y/N…” Azriel gasped. “Fuck….”
“I didn’t know how much my touch would affect you,” Y/N said, her breath brushing over his cock as she massaged the head. 
Azriel didn’t want her to know how much her touch affected him but right now, all of his restraints flew out of the window. Shameless gasps and whines left Azriel as he lightly thrust his hips up, seeking more touch. 
The moment Azriel felt the warm heat of Y/N’s mouth made Azriel whine and grip tightly onto her hair, pulling her further onto his cock. 
All restraint left Azriel’s body as he succumbed to his pleasure. It had been a while since someone else had brought him such enjoyment. For the past few years it had just been him and his hand. He had never had the desire to seek pleasure elsewhere. He always had a false hope that the next person he let into his bed would be the one he was destined to be with. Azriel could never get over the disappointment when they left the very next morning with no note, vanishing from Azriel’s life. 
Azriel came without warning, shooting his load down Y/N’s throat. She made a small noise of surprise and Azriel expected her to pull away and spit. But Y/N did the complete opposite. She pulled her mouth so she sucked on just the tip as Azriel continued to come. 
Once she pulled away from his cock, Y/N swallowed and Azriel let out a deep moan and surged forward and kissed her. He didn’t care that he could taste himself. He needed the feeling of her lips on his to ground himself otherwise he was sure he wouldn’t be able to claw his way out of the haze of desire falling over him. 
Y/N kissed back eagerly and situated herself on top of his lap, draping her arms across his shoulders. His hands gently caressed her hips. She pulled away first and Azriel only wanted to pull her back and never let her go. 
The two sat in silence for a moment and it was in that moment where Azriel realised what they had just done. It was at that moment where Azriel realised that Y/N wasn’t just a friend to him. No, they had just passed the barrier of friendship. 
Y/N slowly removed her arms from where they were positioned around his neck. She seemed slightly unsure of herself as she stood to her feet. 
“Thank you, Azriel,” Y/N said, her voice strangely distant.
“Anytime,” Azriel said, and Y/N had no clue about how much he meant it. 
Y/N collected her dress from the floor and covered herself up with it. Azriel hated how shy she suddenly became. As she turned back to Azriel, he had hope in his heart as she leaned down to kiss his cheek, letting it linger. 
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said before turning around and walking down the hall to her bedroom without another word. 
Azriel covered his face with his hand and sighed. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. The scene replayed in his mind and he couldn’t think of anything else. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air. His cock took an interest once more. 
Azriel sighed, trying to refrain himself but the moment he remembered Y/N’s blissed out look as her eyes rolled back as she came, the eye contact as she had her lips wrapped around him, she sigh of delight she let out as she swallowed everything he had to offer, Azriel’s hand was steadily pumping himself. He tried to keep his small sounds of pleasure quiet. He placed his other hand over his mouth and he pumped faster conjuring up scenarios in his mind all containing Y/N. 
He needed to feel her wrapped around him, the tight heat consuming his very being. He needed it desperately. He needed it more than he needed anything else in his over five hundred years of existence. 
It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for Azriel to come once more, spilling over his hand. Azriel panted quietly as his head rested on the back of the couch. Now that he had just a small taste of Y/N, he was sure he would never want another female again. He only ever wanted to hear her sounds of pleasure. He only ever wanted to feel her touch, her kiss. 
Her love. 
Azriel only wanted to wake up with her in the mornings. He only wanted to hold her close as they both read the same book. He only ever wanted to walk hand in hand with her through Velaris, proudly showing her off to everyone who would look his way. He wanted to take care of her when she was sick. He wanted to sing her to sleep when she awoke from a nightmare. He wanted to listen to her play her violin and allow his shadows to dance around her, caressing her body and soul. He wanted to show his love to her with every action he did.
Azriel only wanted Y/N’s love. 
***
Y/N softly closed her bedroom door behind her. She threw the dress to the ground and walked to her bed. She could already feel the wetness between her thighs. It had started happening the moment Azriel caressed her hip with the gentlest touch as she sat down. 
Y/N sighed and flopped down on her bed. She vowed that this would only be something to satisfy her needs. But those needs still needed to be met. Slowly, her hand trailed down her body and in between her legs. 
As she touched herself she only thought about Azriel’s touch on her body, how he made her feel. The gentle yet assertive feel of his touch. She craved more…and that was dangerous. 
Y/N gasped as she came, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle the noise. She rose out her high before relaxing fully into the bed. 
Her chest moved up and down in heavy breaths. She was sure she had never felt this good in her life. She could still feel the phantom touch of Azriel’s hands on her skin. Goosebumps covered her body. 
Deep down, Y/N knew that the only reason why what happened between them even happened was because they were both intoxicated. She could taste the bitter taste of the alcohol Azriel had consumed on his lips. Neither of them were thinking with their full brain. 
Y/N sighed. 
In the morning, she would pretend that it didn’t happen. 
No matter how much she wished it would happen again. 
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 1
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Something's not quite right anymore.
Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst [Tags will be different for every part!]
Length: 1k Words
There is no taglist for this fic.
Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜
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"I'm gonna heat up some leftovers, do you want some, kook?" You call out- but there's no answer, causing you to sigh as your shoulders slump down.
It's been going like this for a good while now- your boyfriend and young gaming enthusiast too invested in everything but you at this point, a total contrast to how he used to be. People would tease him for constantly bringing you up in every conversation left and right, but these days, both directions of his are filled with other things he seemingly deems more important than you. And it's not like you're asking for much- but he by now even forgets to say goodnight, instead focused on whatever he's doing on his laptop and pc or phone.
You're not sure what happened. It's like you've gone back to being just roommates and nothing more than that.
You still plate up a portion of the leftovers for him, despite no reaction coming from the game designer in the other room- just like you always do. It's like you're just a maid, cleaning after him and feeding him every day, and it's frustrating. It reminds you of what you swore yourself you'd never be- you don't want to be tied down to a guy like that, who's just gonna become lazy and won't appreciate you being there for him. That's not the life you want to live.
And yet, you also love him, and you know he's not usually like this. So what changed?
You walk into his room where his equipment is all set up, knocking on the doorway to try and get his attention. He hums a reply, leans over a bit- but he doesn't ever move his eyes away from the screen, blue-light filtering glasses on the bridge of his nose reflecting what he sees. "...warmed up some food." You mumble, as you set the plate and cutlery down on his table- exchanging it for the dirty dishes from this morning. He's working from home these days, and that hurts- because you've been taking time off for once to spend it with him, just to end up taking on another job it feels like.
Full time maid. Huh.
"Thanks." He mumbles, and you just take the other dishes with a sigh, moving to leave- when he whines, and leans over, one of his hands leaving the keyboard to tap his cheek- and you can't help yourself but lean in to kiss it, thinking it might be a sign that he's coming out of his odd hibernation. But he just smiles for a moment before he grows focused again, shutting you out once more as you leave the room to go back into the kitchen to wash the dishes in the sink.
Moments like these are the worst.
It's like he keeps luring you back in with the tiniest of things to keep you hooked, keep you hoping that things might just be getting better- and then they won't, but you've got your fix so you feel at least somewhat satiated. And another part that's been severely lacking, is intimacy.
If he ever actually graces you with any kind of attention in bed, it's usually when you're both about to go to sleep. It's sloppy, tired, exhaustion clear in him even though some might argue that he's just sitting in front of a screen all day. But you know he's not- he's working hard, and it's his dream job, too, so of course he's putting in extra effort to make it count and make sure his work can't ever be replaced. And if it was just that- determination towards his own career- you wouldn't be this upset. But he's got time.
Clearly. He goes out with his friends here and there, but he never has time for you. Like he chooses to ignore you.
It's also odd that he suddenly has such a huge workload on himself, when before, he's not even been working this hard if he had to crunch towards a deadline. No, these days it appears as if he's working all the time- and it's caused even a moment that left him more than embarrassed, body so worn out and under the pressure of whatever stress he's going through, that he just.. couldn't get it up.
Maybe that's it?
No, it really can't be. You're made sure he knew that you didn't mind it, that you understood and that you'd probably even forget it soon anyways. And that night, he still slept close to you, didn't seem too upset about it anymore as he held you like always, snoring away until the alarm clock woke both of you back up at five AM sharp.
This is stupid. What's really going on?
It's late when he finally emerges from his office, entering the bedroom where you're already under the covers, and from the way he's still dressed, it's clear that he isn't coming to bed any time soon. "Kook, no.." You whine, reaching out for him as he opens the dresser to take a fresh shirt out. "You've been working all day!" You complain, but he just sighs, as he changes shirts, turning around after he's finished throwing the black fabric over his upper body. He crawls onto the bed close to you, pecks your lips- and you hate it.
Because the way you does it feels like an apology for what's to come.
"I know, but I already told the boys I'd be out.." He hums against your lips, and you're really trying hard to keep him, hands on his cheek moving to snake around his neck. "I won't be back too late." He promises, but you just pout at him, making him attempt to kiss it away. And for a moment, you feel like you might have a chance-
But then he chuckles and parts from you, leaning back.
"Now go to bed baby." He smiles, getting up to walk towards the bedroom door. "I'll be quiet when I come back, yeah?" He asks, and you just turn around to hide under the covers, huffing a somewhat answer out.
Unaware that deep down, it really pains him to treat you this way. But it'll be worth it.
He'll make sure of it.
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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 3 months ago
Text
Lots of Love Part 2 -Oneshot
Word count: 3361
Part 1 Part 3
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Valentine’s Day was coming up, and Y/N felt a strange giddiness that she hadn’t felt in years.  She and Bucky had been dating for a couple of months at this point, and it was the best relationship she had ever had.  He was so loving, kind, patient, and amazing with Lottie, who loved him just as much as he loved her.  There was never a day where they didn’t see each other, whether it was Bucky coming over to her place or them going to the Avengers compound.  They had graduated from hugs and holding hands to kisses and cuddles, and Y/N could feel the simmering of sexual tension deep in her gut whenever the kisses became a little more passionate, the heat between them a little more frantic and the touching more insistent.  
On the night of Valentine’s Day he came over for dinner, bringing all the ingredients needed.  Y/N tried to be helpful but he shooed her away from the kitchen.  He played a mix of Valentine’s and love songs as he cooked, letting Lottie help whenever she would run in and hang onto his leg, begging to be a part of the fun.  When he was done he decorated the table with Valentine’s plates, glasses and cutlery as well as other corny decor, then plated everything.  He cut up Lottie’s food and made sure she ate, making sure Y/N ate her food uninterrupted while it was still hot.
When they finished he cleaned the dishes then helped get Lottie ready for bed, singing her a song and reading her a quick story before she finally fell asleep.  When he walked out of her room and shut the door quietly he walked out to the front room where Y/N sat on the couch waiting.  “You ready for dessert, doll?” he asked.
“Dessert?” Y/N scoffed.  “I don’t know if I have room for dessert after a full course steak dinner.”
He smirked, walking over to the refrigerator.  “Are you sure?  Not even for…” he opened the door and reached in, then with a flourish pulled out a pastry box.  “Your favorite mousse?”
Y/N gasped and quickly got off the couch, running over to Bucky making grabby hands at him.  “You got Frankie’s?” she gushed.
Bucky laughed, then held the box out of her reach before she could take it. “Nuh-uh-uh, hold on now,” he said with a playfully chastising tone.  “You gotta pay the toll first.”
“The toll?” Y/N scoffed, then at his suggestive expression she rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.  “And what would that be?”
“A mind blowing kiss would be a great start,” he teased, putting the dessert behind his back and leaning over to be close to her face.
Y/N narrowed her eyes at him but couldn’t stop the smile creeping across her lips.  “Okay fine,” she said, pretending not to want to pay for it.  She cupped his face in her hands and pulled him down to kiss him deeply.  Bucky quickly reciprocated, his hand not holding the dessert wrapping around her back and holding her close against his body, angling his head to deepen the kiss even further.  After a minute of heavy kisses he turned her around and lifted her with his arm up onto the kitchen counter, settling himself between her legs before reluctantly pulling away.
“Good girl,” he praised her, making her blush.  “Now you get a treat.”  He brought the dessert from behind his back and opened the box, opening the top and using the small spoon included to dip into the mousse and bring it up to her mouth.
“You’re gonna feed it to me?” Y/N laughed.
“Absolutely,” Bucky said, arching an eyebrow at her.  “Open up.”
Her blush got even hotter on her face.  She wasn’t sure if he understood the innuendos he was spouting off, but she did as she was told and opened her mouth.  He smirked and inserted the spoon.  She moaned at the taste of the chocolate mousse, perfectly smooth and light.  She made an exaggerated rolling of her eyes and he chuckled.  “Perfection,” she mumbled.  Bucky took a bite for himself then brought another spoonful to her mouth.  They finished the mousse too quickly for her liking, but he handed her the spoon when they were finished and she licked off as much of it as possible.  He watched her, licking his own lips as she pulled it out of her mouth then set it aside back into the box by the sink.
They stared at each other for a long moment, his hands moving to knead her thighs as her hands slid up his arms and around his neck.  “Do you wanna stay the night?” she whispered, her fingers scratching at his scalp at the nape of his neck.
He shivered at the sensation and leaned his forehead against hers.  “Are you sure?” he asked.  “I don’t want you to feel like just because it’s Valentine’s day–”
“That’s not why,” Y/N shook her head, nuzzling his nose with hers.  “I trust you.  I want you.  And I’m pretty sure you want me,” she teased.  He scoffed, nuzzling her back.  “I haven’t exactly been very forthcoming with you, Buck,” she said, biting her lip worriedly.  “I haven’t done this, in years, since before Lottie was born.  Her dad…he…” Bucky’s grip on her hips tightened reassuringly, grounding her back to the moment.  “He lied,” she sighed.  “Took the condom off without me realizing during sex.  By the time I found out I was pregnant, it was too late to do anything about it and he was long gone.”  Bucky’s jaw ticked, his frown deepening at this newfound information.  “I don’t regret her, but I just need you to understand that I’m…I want this, but I’m afraid–”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, hugging her.  “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.  We don’t have to do anything, doll.  I’d love just to sleep next to you, if that’s what you want.  I’d love to make love to you, if that’s what you want.  I want whatever you want,” he said, kissing her all over her face.  
She pulled his face back so she could kiss his lips tenderly.  “I want you,” she whispered.  “I want this.  Please?”
Bucky gave her a soft smile.  “You don’t gotta beg me, doll,” he said lowly.  “I’m all yours to do whatever you want with.”
Y/N smirked.  “Whatever I want?” she asked mischievously.
Bucky hummed and nodded.  “Whatever you want,” he replied.  “But we’re gonna need to be quiet.  She’s sleeping.”  Y/N sighed, remembering Lottie was right next to her room.  Bucky chuckled at her frustration.  “It’s okay, doll.  Staying quiet can be half the fun,” he murmured, grazing his lips over hers but narrowly missing them on purpose.  
Y/N whined deep in her throat, and his brow furrowed, a look that screamed desire on his face.  “Take me to bed,” she whispered.
Bucky nodded then kissed her hard, gripping under her thighs and lifting her off the counter.  She wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing him back as fervently as he was kissing her.  He walked them both back down the hall to her room, quietly closing the door and then taking her to her bed and laying her on it gently.  He climbed over her, continuing to kiss her as his hands gripped her hips, then slowly felt up her sides, his fingers dipping underneath her shirt and leaving a tingling sensation over her stomach.  She shivered at the metal against her skin, loving the way it made her that much more aware of where and how he was touching her.  His hands stopped once they reached the bottom of her bra.
She nodded against his mouth, her hands reaching for the bottom of her shirt and breaking the kiss to pull it off of herself.  Bucky helped her undo her bra and slip it off her shoulders, then stared at her naked torso.  “My god, doll,” he breathed.  “So pretty.  Can I?” he asked, his hands inching closer to her breasts.
“Yes,” Y/N said.  Bucky’s hands engulfed her breasts, massaging them in his palms and then flicking her nipples with his thumbs.  She bit back a moan as he pushed her breasts together then dipped his head down and buried his face in between them, kissing, licking and sucking at them, giving each of her nipples ample attention.  His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and he quietly moaned against her skin.
“Fuck, I can’t…I can’t help it, doll,” he mumbled, his hips dry humping into her core repeatedly.  
“Feels good,” she reassured him, her hips slightly rolling with him, feeling the outline of his cock against her pants.  “Goddamn, Buck.”  She reached down and started pulling at his shirt, and he quickly shrugged it off, laying his naked chest across hers as he continued humping her.  The feeling of her nipples against his skin heightened the experience, making her shiver again, and her fingers felt down his stomach to the top of his pants, fumbling with the button and the zipper until she could push them down.  She helped him free himself from his pants, and he kicked them and his underwear off before slotting back between her legs, his cock pushing against her leggings.  Y/N looked down between them just as he did, admiring his cock as it stood hard and already leaking on her pants.  “Such a pretty cock, baby,” she said, and slipped a hand down to touch him.
As her fingers wrapped around him, stroking the head of his cock as he rutted against her, Bucky’s hips stuttered in their pace and he choked back a loud groan.  “Holy shit, Y/N,” he grunted.  “Can I…do you have protection?” he asked, shutting his eyes tight as he breathed deeply.
“Yes,” she breathed.  
“So we don’t need anything else?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at her to make sure.  “Can I c-cum inside you?”
“Yes,” Y/N nodded.  “Please.”
He shuddered above her, like the desire pulsed up his spine.  “Fuck,” he moaned.  He pulled away and reached for her pants, pulling them and her underwear down and off her legs, throwing them off to the side.  His hands immediately went to her thighs, feeling up her legs until his thumbs rubbed the crease between her pussy and her legs, making her hips slightly shake in anticipation.  “Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he hummed.  “Jesus, you’re already soaked,” he said in surprise, his flesh fingers reaching down and slipping in between her pussy lips, feeling her arousal.  “I wanna taste you, but…I gotta feel you.  Is that okay?”
“I’m ready,” Y/N said, her hands feeling up his chest and pulling at his shoulders to bring him closer.  Her legs widened more as she hooked her ankles behind his ass and pulled his hips forward.  “Please, Buck, I need it.”
“You’re throbbing, doll,” Bucky mused, staring at her pussy.  “I’ve got you.  I’ve got you.” He gripped his cock in his flesh hand, stroking himself a few times before guiding the tip toward her pussy.  Instead of entering her he rubbed his tip against her clit.  The pleasure shot through her abdomen, and she groaned loudly.  His metal hand suddenly clamped over her mouth, and they both froze, staying still so they could hear.  After a few moments of silence Bucky huffed out a laugh and shook his head disapprovingly at her.  “Doll, if you can’t keep quiet, we can’t have fun,” he chastised her.  
He slowly removed his metal hand and she put her own hand over her mouth as he rubbed her clit more, the head of his cock flicking across it just right.  Y/N could feel herself getting more wet by the second, her one hand over her mouth and the other gripping the bed comforter for dear life.  Bucky watched her intently, his mouth agape and his brow upturned as her hips grinded against his cock as best as she could.  Right as she was about to tip over the edge Bucky slapped her clit with his cock.  Y/N shrieked against her hand, her head wrenching back against the bed as she came, her cum coating his cock and the bed as she shook uncontrollably.  She heard Bucky’s gasp and could feel his cock rubbing between her lips as she kept cumming.
“That a girl, Y/N, holy fuck,” he moaned quietly.  “You look beautiful when you cum, doll.  So fucking hot.”  Y/N panted against her hand, trying to get her bearings from how hard she had cum, and he wasn’t even inside her yet.  Bucky tilted her head back straight and he leaned down and kissed her.  “You ready?” he whispered.  She nodded frantically.  “Just so you know, once we start, it’s gonna be really hard for me to stop,” he warned.  “But if you need me to, just say so, okay?”  She nodded again, smiling adoringly at him and how much he was making sure it was all at her pace and comfort level.  “Okay,” he nodded back to her, then kissed her again before pulling back and watching himself as he aimed toward her entrance, then started to thrust in.
Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from crying out, but another whine from her throat bubbled up as he pushed inside her.  Bucky wasn’t huge, but still larger than what she had ever had before, and the stretch was proving to be life altering, ruining her for any other man.  He filled her so perfectly, the veins of his cock dragging along her inner walls at an agonizing pace.  Once he bottomed out she let out a long stream of air that she hadn’t realized she was holding, her fingers gripping his biceps.  “Oh my god,” she moaned.  “Bucky…baby…”
Bucky nearly fell onto his elbows above her, his head hanging low on her chest.  “Hold still, doll, fuck,” he mumbled against her sternum, his panting breaths warming her skin.  “Shit, you feel so goddamn good…how do you feel this good?”  
Y/N giggled, trying to even out her breathing.  Her hands smoothed up and down his back then she tangled her fingers into his hair, gently scratching at his scalp.  “I should be asking you the same thing,” she said.
He chuckled, and she could feel his smile as he nuzzled up to her neck.  He kissed and licked at her collarbone and slowly retracted his hips, then thrust back into her.  Y/N’s mouth dropped open in a silent moan, her arms tightening around him.  The fact that they had to be quiet, while being so close to each other and basically breathing each other’s air, was making the entire experience even more intimate and special.  Y/N watched Bucky’s face contort in pleasure as he fucked her slow and gentle, biting his lip and holding his breath repeatedly so he wouldn’t moan out loud.  She took pride in knowing that she was affecting him as much as he was affecting her.  His hands were soft but firm and insistent as they felt her everywhere, his gaze almost reverent as he watched her body’s reactions to what he was doing, smiling when he got a muffled whimper or moan from her.
Bucky’s hips snapped harder into her and she gasped.  “You like it hard, doll?” he teased, nibbling her earlobe.  She nodded and he hummed.  “We’re gonna need to get some babysitting one day so I can give it to you hard, and you can make all the noise you want,” he breathed, his beard scratching at her neck and cheek as he nuzzled his face against her.  “Do you think you can take it hard and be quiet?”
Y/N shook her head and whimpered.  “Ah, yes you can, Y/N,” he said in a teasing, mischievous tone.  “‘Cause you're such a good girl, aren’t you?”  She nodded frantically, gritting her teeth as his hips moved marginally harder and faster into her.  “Gonna take my cock hard and fast, and be real quiet for me, aren’t you?” he asked like it was the simplest thing in the world.  She nodded again, her hands traveling down his back to his ass, her nails digging into his ass cheeks and making him push even further into her.  “Yeah, you like that.  Look at you tryna get me as deep as possible.  God, I love you.”
She gasped at his confession.  Bucky didn’t stop, too entranced by the feeling of her pussy to be embarrassed or distracted from his goal.  His metal hand slipped between them and started circling her clit with his thumb, making her shiver violently at the stimulation.  She stared up at him, thinking back on the last couple of months and how wonderful he had been.  She remembered Wanda’s words from months before: “Let yourself love and be loved…life is too short, and yet also so long, to not love and love hard.  The hurt only proves that your heart was big enough to let love in and enjoy it to its fullest.”
Y/N loved Bucky.  She probably loved him from the moment he had picked up Lottie at the mall and made sure she was okay and entertained her with his metal hand.  As scary as it was to open herself up to it again, she didn’t feel like he would ever hurt her.  She deserved love.  He deserved love.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Bucky’s hips stuttered in their pace, his eyes snapping up to look at her.  He watched her for a moment before sighing.  “Do you mean it?” he asked quietly.  “You don’t have to say it just because I did.”
“I love you, Bucky,” Y/N said it louder, more firmly, raising her head to rest her forehead against his.  “I love you.”
His lips broke out into a blinding smile and he kissed her again.  “I love you,” he repeated.  “Fuck, I love you, doll.  Love you.  My Y/N.  My good girl.”  His hips went back to their previous pace, and he kept his forehead pressed against hers, staring into her eyes as his metal thumb returned to its previous position, rubbing and flicking at her clit.  “Cum with me, doll.”
She nodded, her hands moving to cup his face as she stared back at him, her breathing becoming more erratic by the second.  “Buck…baby…I’m cumming!” she squeaked, then she finally tipped over the ledge of pleasure and came hard on his cock.  Bucky kissed her hard, muffling her loud moan as her body shook under him.  A few pumps of his hips later and he broke the kiss, scrunching his face with effort.  
“Fuck, I’m gonna, I can’t…can I bite your shoulder?” he huffed.  Y/N pulled his face down to the crook of her neck.  “Thank you,” he grunted, then bit into her shoulder as he finished, muffling his own groan while his hips fucked his cum deep into her over and over again, his own shiver running down his spine.  His bite made her pussy flutter around him again, the mix of pain and pleasure bringing a strange euphoria in her core.
When it was all over they both continued to hold each other, not willing to let the moment pass yet.  Bucky gradually relaxed his jaw on her skin, licking and kissing the indents his blunt teeth made on her neck before he pulled away and looked at her.  Y/N sighed heavily as she gazed up at him, a small smile lighting her face.  He looked properly worn out, which was quite a feat for a super soldier, his eyes soft and his own sweet smile mirroring hers.  He leaned down and nuzzled her nose, kissing her lightly before pulling away again.
“Thank you, doll, for trusting me,” he whispered.  “I love you.”
“I love you,” Y/N whispered.  
A small knock at the bedroom door made them both freeze.  “Mama?!”
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stop-talking · 1 year ago
Text
So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 6)
Derek Danforth x fem reader
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Word count: 3.3k
Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, HEAVY angst, fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, mentions of masturbating.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
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Derek wakes up in your arms, and decides that's exactly how he wants to start every morning from now on.
Today's the day. He's going to confess to you.
Well, if he can sneak out of bed without waking you up. That might prove to be a challenge, seeing as how you have both an arm and a leg draped over him.
Under other circumstances, he'd be content to just lay here and let you hold him. Unfortunately, there was a sort of... "incident" last night. One he desperately wants to clean up after.
So, he carefully moves your limbs, shifting slowly until he's off the bed. You stir in your sleep and he waits with bated breath, but thankfully you remain unconscious.
It's still early morning. Barely past sunrise, from what he can tell. Hopefully he'd have time to get a few things done before you inevitably realize he's gone.
As he slips out of his clothes to hop into the shower, he's suddenly extremely grateful you'd taught him how to use the washing machine. If you saw the mess he'd made of his boxers, he would probably have to off himself.
While he washes off, he goes over his plan for the day in his head. Derek has always been somewhat of a romantic, despite how things may seem. Dating is just... complicated when you're a billionaire. And the president's son. And a crackhead.
He groans and shakes himself out of his slump as he dries himself on a towel. None of those things matter here. Right now, he isn't an addict, billionaire, or the son of the president. He's just a man.
A man who desperately needs to tell you how he feels. Derek is sure if he has to spend one more "platonic" night in your bed he's going to go insane.
So, he starts to put his plan into motion.
"Half cup water... one and one-half cups mix..." He mutters, reading the instructions on the back of the box of pancake mix. Even though you've had him help cook almost every meal, he still hasn't learned much. He's an expert at standing there and stirring, sure, but actually cooking? Not really.
Pancakes, though? He's pretty confident he can make those. Hell, he could probably scramble a few eggs to go with it. You'd taught him that a couple days ago.
He wants to show you he's serious. How much he appreciates what you've done for him, and how much more he needs from you.
But what can he offer in return?
Breakfast, for a start. If he was back home, he'd either take you out somewhere nice or have his chefs prepare something. That isn't an option here, but he could make due.
Derek stands back and studies the stack of pancakes and skillet of scrambled eggs. It looks... edible? Right? Not terrible, at least.
He sighs and starts to clean up the counter. He'd made quite the mess, probably dripping an entire pancake's worth of batter everywhere. You make cooking look so easy, damnit.
Now what? Go wake you up? No, surely there's something else he can do for you. His brow furrows in concentration as he takes the dirty dishes to the sink. The sink that's already filled to the brim with old cups, plates, and cutlery.
Fuck. Guess he's doing the dishes.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
You wake up feeling uneasy. Something's missing.
No... someone is missing. Where's Derek?
After checking his bedroom, you stumble downstairs, still in your pajamas.
"Derek?" You call out, getting a little more anxious with every empty room you pass through. Where the hell is he?
"In here!"
Oh. The kitchen. Duh. You turn the corner and see Derek with his sleeves rolled up, arms plunged elbow-deep into soapy water.
"What are you doing?" You can't help but ask, even though the answer is obvious. He's doing the dishes. Without a fuss.
"Oh, uh... just... I used a lot of dishes making breakfast, and-" He stammers, nodding his head over to the stove.
"Breakfast?" You follow his gaze, eyeing the stack of pancakes.
Is this real? Did Derek fucking Danforth just wake up early and make you breakfast? And what the hell is he wearing?
"Yeah. I thought I'd thank you. You know, for the cake."
He dries his hands off on a dishcloth, and you silently take in his outfit. He's dressed up. Or, at least, what Derek probably considers dressed up. It's a little strange seeing him back in one of those silk button-ups he's so fond of after nearly a week of the regular ol' shorts and t-shirts his mom picked out for him.
Oh, shit. He's looking at you. Say something.
"What's the occasion?" You finally spit out, eyes darting between his clothes, the clean dishes, and the fresh breakfast.
Derek scoffs. "Occasion? Does there have to be an occasion for me to do something nice for you?"
"Guess not." You mumble, still a little dazed from everything that's happened in the past few minutes.
"A 'thank you' would be nice, ya know." He crosses his arms and gives you an exaggerated pout.
"Oh my god, Derek." Laughing, you forcefully un-cross his arms and pull him into an embrace, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He groans from the sheer force of your hug, and wraps his arms around you as well, returning the gesture in earnest.
Holding him so close like this, you can't help but notice his scent. He smells... different.
"Is that cologne?" You ask, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes as you giggle.
Derek's cheeks flush pink and he stammers out a response, tripping over his words.
"I-I always wear cologne."
"No, you don't. At least not lately."
"And how would you know? You make it a habit of smelling me?"
He's obviously trying to bait you, so you just roll your eyes.
"Derek. You've practically been living on my lap lately. I know what you usually smell like."
"Okay, well, I wanted to smell nice today. Sue me."
"You want to smell nice today... but there's no occasion?" You lean in a little closer, and give him your best teasing smile. He's just trying so hard today, it's adorable.
Derek opens his mouth to say something, but instead just gives you a weak smile. His eyes flicker from your eyes down to your lips, and his arms squeeze you a little tighter.
Shit. If you keep this up, he's probably going to kiss you. Or you'll kiss him. And you aren't quite sure how to feel about that.
Still, you don't want to break the hug just yet. One of your hands makes it's way up to his earlobe, and you start to fiddle with his earring. Your other arm remains firmly wrapped around his waist.
"This a real diamond?"
"Of course." He scoffs, and with how close you are, you can feel his little huff of breath on your face.
"You aren't scared to lose it?"
"I have a hundred more just like it, sweetheart."
Of course he does. Rich bastard. You try to pull away, but he clings onto you.
"Hey, I still didn't get a thank you." Derek pouts, giving you that pitiful expression he's so good at. Damnit.
Fine, he wants a thank-you? You know exactly how to thank him...
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
"Here, let me get that for you." For the first time, Derek offers to carry the little bag of essentials as you make your way down to the beach together.
As he slugs the heavy thing over his shoulder, he feels a bit of regret for not offering sooner. He likes to think of himself as a gentleman, but obviously he isn't if he's been making you carry this damn thing all along.
"Thank you, love."
All those feelings of remorse fade when you take his hand and smile. His chest floods with warmth and he can't help but wish you'd thank him the same way you did earlier that morning.
He still can't believe you actually kissed him. On the cheek, sure, but a kiss is a kiss, and Derek isn't going to complain.
"It's pretty out today." He muses, looking up at the clear sky. You simply hum in agreement as the two of you trudge through the sand together.
This is a way more romantic setting than the kitchen. That's why Derek hasn't yet confessed to you. Not because you make him nervous or anything.
Okay, maybe it's partially due to nerves. He can't help it. You kissed him before he could get a word out.
You kissed him.
Thinking about it makes him grin like a fool, and he squeezes your hand a little tighter as he walks. He still can't believe he got so lucky.
And hey, maybe he'll get lucky again.
"Race you to the water!"
Or maybe not. Derek groans and drops the beach bag, then rushes after you. He kicks up sand, then water as he makes his way into the ocean.
"FUCK, it's cold." He cries out as the water reaches his chest. Honestly, he didn't even plan to wade in this deep, but he was determined to catch up to you.
"Oh, don't be a baby. It feels nice."
Derek's breath hitches as you snake an arm around his waist, pulling him tightly against your side. Tentatively, he puts his own arm around your back.
"You're gonna regret making fun of me when I fucking drown right in front of you." He grumbles, still a little uneasy being this far in the ocean.
"I won't let you drown. Even if it's a little tempting." You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
"It's tempting to let me drown?" He scoffs, feigning annoyance. It's so hard to be mad at you when you're cuddled up to him like this.
"Maybe." Your other arm wraps around him now, trapping him in a tight hug.
Derek's heart pounds and he can feel his brain go fuzzy. This is it. He should tell you, right now, how much he wants you. How much he needs you.
Unfortunately, before he can stammer out a response, a wave draws near. An especially tall wave.
He tries to take a few steps back, but his legs tangle with yours and he stumbles. In his terrified state, he only grips you tighter, effectively pulling you back with him.
The two of you plunge into the water and Derek nearly drowns you in an attempt to right himself. After a few seconds of struggling, he feels you hook your hands under his armpits and pull him up.
He coughs and sputters, then braces himself as that wave he'd seen earlier finally washes over the both of you. For a minute, he's certain he's a goner. The water goes over his head before he can even hold his breath, mouth still full of saltwater.
You hold him tightly against your chest as the wave passes over you both, then start dragging him back towards the shore. When he finally opens his eyes and shakes the water from his ears, he notices the sky has gone dark. Shit.
"Are you okay, love?"
Derek just blinks at you as he wobbles to his feet in the knee-deep water, trembling fiercely. Your hands cup his face, turning it left and right as you inspect every inch of him.
He pulls away, if only to cough up a gallon of water.
"Might need... CPR... mouth-to-mouth...?" He chokes out, laughing in an attempt to get his racing heart under control.
"Oh my god, Derek. First you nearly scare me to death, then you ask for a kiss?" You give him a light shove, but your face gives away the relief you feel.
"In my defense, I did warn you I was going to drown." He scoffs.
Your response is cut off as it starts to drizzle. The sky, which was a perfect endless blue just minutes ago, is now completely covered in dark clouds.
"You wanna finish this inside?"
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
After showering off the sand and saltwater, you throw on some pajamas and head over to Derek's room.
Yeah, it's the middle of the afternoon, but with the raging storm outside...? Well, it just feels like a pajama kind of day.
"Derek?" You call out, making sure to knock loudly on his door. Don't need any more accidents. "Can I come in?"
"No." He croaks, and you're certain you can hear him sniffle.
Shit. You'd better apologize soon.
"Please?"
No response. Damnit.
"I'm coming in anyways." You announce, slowly opening the door.
Derek lies sprawled across his bed, one arm draped over his face. The room is depressingly dark for the middle of the day, and the dreary whether definitely isn't helping.
Still, his outfit almost makes you chuckle. He's sporting a green robe that you hope he has some kind of clothes under, and his hair is still damp from his shower. God, this man certainly has a flair for the dramatic.
"Derek, love? What are you doing?"
He groans as you flick on his lamp, burying his face further into his arm.
"Sulking." He answers honestly.
You sigh and hop up to sit next to him on the bed, instinctively placing a hand in his hair. A familiar tightness pulls at your chest as you try to find the right words to say. Guilt.
"I'm so sorry for earlier. I shouldn't have made you go that far out, not when you can't even swim. I should have-"
Derek cuts you off, weakly pushing your hand away.
"Stop. Not mad at you."
His half-assed grunt of a response throws you off. What? Not mad at you? Then what the hell is he sulking for?
You sit in silence for a minute, chewing on his words. Fuck, how do you fix this? He almost fucking drowned because of you.
"Still want that mouth-to-mouth?" You tease, nudging him.
That gets him to look up at you. His eyes are puffy and red, a sign he's been crying.
"Is that a serious offer?"
"Was it a serious request?"
You both silently stare at each other, for a lot longer than you probably should. Does he actually want a kiss? Damnit, why are you even considering this?
"Just tell me what's bothering you."
Derek sighs and tilts his head back, closing his eyes.
"A lot of things."
"That's real specific. Thanks."
Without even looking, he gently smacks your leg with a hand. Brat.
"C'mon, Derek? Please?" You lean over him, lacing your fingers into his hair once more. He doesn't want you to leave, not really. You're sure of it.
"Well for starters, my head hurts." He grumbles, leaning into your touch.
"And my throat feels weird. I think I swallowed half the ocean."
You start to reply, but he opens his eyes and holds up a hand, shushing you.
"Seriously. When we finally have internet again, check the news. There'll be headlines about it. 'RISING SEA LEVELS MYSTERIOUSLY FIX THEMSELVES; NO LONGER AN ISSUE' or some shit."
You burst into a fit of laughter. God, he's so dramatic.
"Wow, I... Anything else?" You sputter out, choking back more laughter.
Derek just glares up at you, so you gently tug at his curls and plant a quick kiss on his forehead. It's not... weird, right? You've already kissed his cheek. This isn't much different.
He lets out a soft whimper and shifts slightly, scooting closer to you.
"You wanna lay on my lap?"
"Please."
It's not a strange request. Your lap seems to be one of Derek's favorite places lately, as you've both gotten more comfortable with each other. So, you decide to try something a bit different.
"Here, no, this way..." You scoop your arms underneath him and he melts at your touch, letting you move his limp body how you like.
After a little bit of struggle, you get him situated between your legs. His cheek rests against your bare thigh, his stubble tickling your skin. Guess your pajama shorts are riding up quite a bit. Oops.
"How's that, love?"
He just hums in response, eyes closed again as you play with his hair. One of his hands makes it's way up your leg, settling on your thigh, right next to his face. He doesn't grab or grope you, seeming content with the gentle touch.
His hand is soft. You've noticed that before, but now, in contrast with his scratchy stubble, it feels even softer. He has the hands of a man who's never had to work a day in his life.
And here he is, acting like a lapdog.
"I've been trying to tell you something all day." He mumbles groggily, probably already half-asleep.
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
There's a long pause. You continue to stroke his hair, and he nuzzles against your thigh. Your eyes wander down his figure, smiling at the green robe. It looks good on him. It'd probably look better off him.
Maybe putting him between your legs was a bad idea, because suddenly your mind is plagued with images of him coming. Fuck, that was nearly a week ago now, and you can still envision it perfectly.
"Are you... gonna tell me?" You finally ask, trying to distract yourself.
"Not sure I should, honestly."
"If not telling me is making you cry like this... you should probably just spill."
"I'm not crying." He shifts, letting his head fall back between your legs as he pouts up at you.
Fuck. He's so goddamn close. You give him an incredulous look in return.
"Okay, I'm not crying anymore." He corrects himself, avoiding your gaze.
"Just tell me what's on your mind, love."
He grabs your hand and moves it to cup his cheek as he finally looks back up into your eyes. His expression is that of pure admiration. God, he looks so vulnerable.
When he finally speaks, it's barely above a whisper.
"I think I'm falling for you."
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
Derek's breath hitches. He can't believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Above him, you look equally shocked. He watches as you seem to go through the five stages of grief, expression changing rapidly.
He just lies there, frozen in anticipation. Your hand presses against his cheek a little more tightly and you let out a sigh.
"Derek, no."
No? What the hell does that mean? Is this a rejection? His heart plummets into his stomach and before he can ask, you speak again.
"No, you aren't." You speak firmly, eyes fixed on his.
"Fuck does that mean?" He stammers, starting to get agitated. How can you so confidently declare you know his own feelings better than he does?
"It means you don't like me like that. Not really. I'm just the only person around."
Before he can argue further, you move your hand over his mouth, cutting him off.
"And you're not yourself right now. Not with the withdrawals and whatnot. This isn't right. I'd be taking advantage of you."
Derek's chest tightens and he bites his tongue. Fuck. He didn't think of it like that. Still, he doesn't really care. He'd happily let you take advantage of him. But how to explain that to you?
"It's not- you're not... I..." He rips your hand away, tripping over his own words as he tries to voice his feelings. Why do you look blurry?
Shit. He's crying again.
The worst part is, you're making sense. He can't say with 100% confidence that his feelings for you haven't at all been influenced by the fact you're the only one here with him. Would he have fallen for anyone given these circumstances? Derek isn't sure.
You seem to notice his wavering resolve, because you sigh and gently move him from between your legs.
"Where are you going?" He chokes back a sob, sitting up as you slide off the bed.
"Gonna make dinner."
You turn and leave without another word. When the door clicks shut, Derek just flops back down on the bed, letting the despair take him.
Hey, maybe he'd cry out that gallon of saltwater he swallowed.
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Author's note: Sorry for the wait on this chapter... I went a little off-track and wrote some smut about being Mike Schmidt's dentist. Oops.
Anyways, I hope this chapter is as angsty as I intended. I'm trying here. I'm always open to constructive criticism, or feedback of any kind, really. Feel free to put an anonymous message in my inbox, or leave a comment. Is there anything I've written that made you cringe? Are there slow parts that you skim over? Are there any words that you've noticed I use too frequently?
Literally any feedback is welcome, just be respectful about it. Thanks!! <3
211 notes · View notes
justatasteofyourpoison · 1 year ago
Text
Too many cooks…
(A Hazbin Hotel/Alastor x Fem Reader fan fiction)
Part 2
I didn’t expect to write any more smut, butttt I had so much fun writing the last one (take that depression! :D) This idea came to me while casually preparing a roast on Sunday and singing along to the HH soundtrack. Enjoy!
Pairing: Alastor x Fem Reader
Plot: It’s your turn to cook for the HH gang, but Alastor decides to distract you…
Warnings: 18+, smut, bdsm, blood, rough sex (not for me, but maybe you), slight praise k*nk, p in v.
Word Count: About 1.3K
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The hotel was a hub of joy and excitement tonight, it was Friday night and that meant party time! Each week you all took turns cooking a slap-up meal for each other, then put on music, drank and laughed into the small hours. Last week Sir Pentious served up some sort of inedible egg dish which didn’t go down too well, especially when you all had noticed a couple of his egg boys had mysteriously disappeared… But anyway, it was your turn to shine and you were determined to cook something amazing for everyone!
You had it all planned out, cook a few things to suit every taste; something meaty, something veggie, something carby and something buggy… “Ugh” you scoffed as you placed the tray of roaches into the oven. It was Nifty’s favourite and who were you to deny the endearing little creep?
Niffty ran in and out of the kitchen gathering plates and cutlery to set the table. “Thanks Niffty, you’re a star!” You chimed as she grabbed some plates. “No problem! Everything must be perfect!” She sang as she grabbed some more plates. “And clean” she muttered wiping the top plate manically as she struggled through the door.
You laughed to yourself and began preparing the vegetables on the large island in the middle of the kitchen. “I think I’ll have everyone’s tastes covered with this spread” you thought. But then you remembered - Alastor. Alastor who had invited you to his room last night… Your heart fluttered as you remembered the evening’s amorous activities… “I don’t have any venison for Alastor, he’ll be so disappointed” you thought sadly. You didn’t want to disappoint him, especially now that you were his new flight of fancy.
You continued chopping up vegetables when a familiar feeling washed over you. The static was back and that only meant one thing… “Hello my little Doe” a voice suddenly whispered into your ear. You jumped violently and accidentally pierced the knife into your finger. “SHIT!” you yelped in pain as scarlet began dripping onto the white marble. You grabbed the nearest cloth and pressed it tightly to your finger before spinning round to see Alastor stood there. “Hey Alastor, sorry” you said meekly. “No I’m sorry my dear, I need to learn to not sneak up on people when they’re holding knives. Especially not Niffty, she’s a total liability…” He trailed off, “but here, let me help you” Before you knew it the cloth was tossed aside and Alastor had your finger in his mouth. A seductive look in his eye as his tongue swirled around, making sure to get every drop of you. When he was satisfied he let you go and wiped his mouth across his hand “almost as tasty as last night” he purred looking intently into your eyes. You blushed. “Now don’t be coy with me Y/N, you’re no innocent” he said leaning in closer before gently pressing his lips to yours. Your legs felt weak feeling him against you.
“What are you cooking?” He enquired inquisitively after pulling himself away from you. “Err, a little of this, a little of that” you said brushing a loose hair behind your ear. “But…” you began sheepishly “I haven’t got any venison for you, I’m sorry.”
“Oh don’t worry about it” Alastor said coolly “I prefer to catch and eat it fresh” he said almost salivating at the thought. “But the fact I slipped your mind makes me a little sad…” He said his tone changing. Your stomach fell, you never wanted to disappoint the Radio Demon. “I’m sorry Alastor” you said avoiding his gaze. “But, I know how you can make it up to me” he grinned demonically.
Before you knew what was happening Alastor had spun you around and was pressing you down onto the cold marble worktop, his crotch pressed against your buttocks and his powerful hands holding you down by your neck. “Al!” you squeaked in surprise. “Y’know that bit of blood has got me yearning for a little bit more” he growled leaning down over you, his lips against your ear. His lips brushed down to your neck before biting into the flesh gently, his crotch rubbing against you. His lips trailed back up next to your ear. Your face was now flushed hot with excitement. “Last night was wonderful, I think it’s time for round two” he whispered seductively. Your heart skipped a beat, “But what if someone comes in?” you questioned, amazed that you both hadn’t been interrupted already. “I’ll make sure no one will” he said before licking your ear slowly up and down. From the corner of your eye your saw green lock appear on the door. No one would be disturbing you.
Alastor slid his hands down to your black skirt and hoisted it up. “These tights will have to go” he said sternly ripping them off with his claws. You winced as he then spanked your bare arse cheek. “Do you like that Y/N?” You did like that, a lot. “Yes Alastor” you moaned.
“Good girl” he purred as he began sliding your thong down to your ankles. You could hear him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers and felt your body tighten with excitement. He bent back down to your ears “Ready my Doe?” he cooed. “God yes Alastor” you whimpered.
His clawed fingertips traced their way down your back towards your buttocks, he dug his claws into the soft flesh and thrust himself into you roughly, you yelped in pain but didn’t want him to stop. He grabbed you by your pony tail and pulled your neck up, his lips back on your neck giving hickies. He moaned deeply with each thrust into your soaking pussy. “You’re mine” he growled as his stood up tall thrusting harder. His cock was deep inside you, tickling you just were you wanted it. “I thought you were punishing me Al” you moaned. Alastor laughed “Its not my fault you like it you little slut. Now, come for me” his thrusts became faster and the feeling was sensational. He dug his claws into your hips drawing blood and you felt yourself coming hard at the mixed feeling of pleasure and pain “fuck!” you exclaimed before moaning uncontrollably. “That’s it my little Doe” Alastor panted. “My turn!” He thrusted roughly, you could feel your hips starting to bruise from being bashed against the counter. But you didn’t care, all you wanted was Alastor to get there. He leant into you and grabbed your neck before groaning loudly. His cock pulsing inside you as your pussy was filled with him.
He kissed the back of your head before standing up and swiftly dressing himself. He gently pulled your underwear up and let your skirt down. He picked up the tattered tights and laughed “looks like I owe you more clothes!” before making them disappear in a puff of smoke. You chuckled as you turned to face him. You could never get over that face, that smile... He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss. “I’ll see you at dinner my Deer. There may not be anything I’ll eat, but some Rye with friends is always a welcomed treat.”
“Sounds good to me” you panted, still trying to recover from what had just happened. Before Alastor reached the door he stopped and turned “I’ll send some of the girls in to help you finish dinner, you’ve just used up a lot of energy so I’m sure you could you some help.” He said with a wicked grin. With a snap of his fingers the lock was removed from the door and he left inconspicuously.
You braced yourself on the counter. “What just happened…? Fuck!” You laughed to yourself removing a hand from the cold counter to wipe the sweat from your forehead. “I’d better clean up this blood, it looks like Niffty’s tortured someone in here…”
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 11 months ago
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Breaking Dishes. - OC
pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 2.7K~ cw: smut, arguments, violence, fighting/roughousing, breaking dishes, insults, toxic relationship.
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It’s 8:12 A.M. when Kathleen finds herself sliding off bed and wrapping herself in a flowery black and pink silk robe. John’s side of the bed is cold, a sign he’s gotten up long ago.
She pads over to their en-suite bathroom and quickly washes her face, brushes her teeth and her hair, before she leaves the bedroom in search of her husband.
As she enters the kitchen, she finds her temper already rising, her jaw clenching as she looks around, finding multiple reasons to get angry already, so early in the morning, so early in a weekend morning.
First, she finds that he’s made breakfast already. Not for them, just for himself. Nothing for her. Selfish bastard.
Second, he made himself a full English too. Having left the rest of the eggs and sausages out of the fridge. The milk too even though he KNOWS she hates when he does that.
Third, he’s left a mess of pans and utensils on the kitchen stove… Which means she can’t even cook herself breakfast if she wanted to.
Fourth, the water kettle is not full enough for her to make herself a cuppa. In fact, the water in it is already lukewarm, even if there was enough to make herself one, she still couldn’t.
And fifth, John is sitting outside in the balcony, getting some sun, while only wearing a pair of jeans, showing off his strong torso and bulging arms to the whole neighborhood. Like a bloody tart.
Oh… Kathleen. is. pissed.
“JONATHAN. WILLIAM. PRICE!” She calls out at the top of her lungs as she whips the sliding glass door open and coming face to face with the man of the hour.
“Morning, Kat.” John greets her, completely calm and collected as he looks up at her, leaning his elbow lazily on the table next to him, which holds his empty breakfast plate and cutlery. 
He’s lounging without a care in the world, a grey wool sweater across his lap, and a mug of tea in his hand.
“Morning my arse! Did’ya see the mess you left in the kitchen?!” She asks him pointedly, brown eyes wide as she glares pure daggers at him.
Unfortunately for her, her raising her voice and her stern glares do little to him now, four years into their relationship, one into their marriage. He’s gotten used to them.
“Calm your tits, woman, I’m going to clean it after I’m done here.” He replies nonchalantly as he gestures vaguely. “Can’t I have a moment’s peace?”
“Oh, you want a moment’s peace, do ya?” She asks him as she crosses her arms over her chest, dipping her head to the side. “When do I get a moment’s peace, hm? When do I get a bloody weekend when I wake up and there’s not a mess to clean or with my breakfast made for me?” She asks with a cocked brow.
John shifts around in “I let you sleep in. Didn’t make any noise. You chose to get up right now. Could've stayed asleep and you would've woken up to clean dishes.” He remaked with a shrug.
“Ex-cuse me?” Kathleen asked pointedly as she stared at him. 
“You heard me. You’re getting an attitude for no reason, da’ling.” John remarked as he finished gulping down his tea.
Kathleen wanted to yell at him some more. She really wanted to. The man drove her insane, especially when he was like this… Correct.
“Don’t you gaslight me, Jonathan. I have a right to want to wake up to a clean house and some food made for me!” She retorted, grasping at straws for something to justify her anger.
“And this is after you complained I never make breakfast the way you like it?” He retorted as he looked her up and down before standing up, gathering his plate, cutlery and empty cup of tea.
“You-!” She sputtered a bit as she looked up at her husband, who gently moved her aside so he could slip past her back inside the house. “I- You-!” She continued as she followed after him.
”Face it, Kat, you have no leg to stand on, da’lin’.” John remarked as he entered the kitchen.
“Don’t you bloody walk away from me!” She raised her voice and suddenly shoved him from behind. It caused his empty cup of tea to roll of its perch atop the dirty plate he was carrying and shatter into a million pieces on the hardwood floor. 
John stopped in his tracks as soon as the cup fell, so as to not step on the shards and turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Was that fuckin’ necessary, da’lin’?”
“Yes.” Kathleen replied with a bite to her tone as she stared up into his eyes, holding her ground even as he turned and stood over her.
“Really? What’d I do to deserve that push, hm?” He asked her as he dipped his head to the side, blue eyes trailing over the form of his wife beneath him, wrapped in a silken robe that wrapped beautifully around her full figure.
Meanwhile, Kathleen’s brown eyes were glued to her husband’s figure too, trailing over the strong neck, broad shoulders, muscular pecs, soft stomach, and the abundant hair that covered it. 
“You- You were sitting outside like a bloody tart, showin’ off for the bloody neighbors!” She suddenly said as her eyes shot up to look at him, having found something to grasp on to yell at him some more.
John’s eyebrows raised, his lips morphed into a smirk and he gave her a mocking look, his nose scrunching up a bit. “Is that what this is, da’lin’? You’re jealous?” He asked her condescendingly.
“Oh piss off, John, I’m not jealous!” She retorted pointedly as she glared at him.
“Right…” John asked as he took a step over her. “Then why are you complaining about me being shirtless, then?” He teased her as one of his hands moved to grasp her around the chin, squeezing her face lightly.
“I-” Kathleen tried to defend herself, having already realized that today just wasn’t one of her days when it came to having a sharp tongue. So she did what she could, ever competitive she was, wasn’t going to take the disrespect lying down.
Grabbing his forearm, she ripped his hand off her face, then, took the plate off his other hand, and threw it across the living room blindly, hearing it shatter somewhere, probably against the bookshelf by the TV.
“Fuck. You. John Price. I’m sick and tired of your bloody attitude.” She pointed a finger in his face and then poked him on the chest. “You think you can walk around here as you wish, as if you’re in bloody charge? I think the fuck not!” She scolded him.
John didn’t even flinch at her poking him, or the plate being hurled across the room. He was used to this. Used to her. Hell, it turned him on when Kathleen was being a cunt to him.
John reached forward and grabbed her by her right forearm, pulling her against him. “Yeah? Then who’s in charge, da’lin’?” He challenged as he looked down his nose at her.
“It sure as hell isn’t you!” She retorted, her voice, much like her hackles, raised, even if she didn’t try, at all, to pull away from him. She wasn’t afraid of John. Never had been, never would be.
“Let’s see about that then.” John told her as he pulled her over to the living couch, spun her away from him and bent her over the armchair.
Kathleen squeaked softly, knowing well what was coming, as John pinned her wrists behind her back with one hand, the other rolling up her robe to expose her thighs and her ass.
“Who’s in charge, hm?” John goaded her before he whipped his hand back and delivered a hard smack to one of her round ass cheeks, causing it to ripple, a moan falling from her parted lips.
“Not. You.” She replied, huffing a moan again when he delivered a second smack to her ass. “Fuck. You. John.” She grunted through her teeth.
“What’d you say, da’lin’?” John asked as he leaned close to her ear. “Did you just tell me to go fuck myself?” He teased, watching as she fruitlessly writhed over the armrest, her head buried down in the couch cushion, her hands and arms struggling in his grip.
She rolled her head to the side so she could catch him through the corner of her eye. “Yes, I fucking did. And I’ll say it again. Fuck you, John.” She spat at him.
“Tsk-tsk. Brat.” John mused with a smirk on his lips. She could hear it. Then he smacked her again, and again, always making sure to strike the same spot, her skin already redening and blushing as the skin warmed up and the blood vessels popped below it.
John only gave her a break once the dulcets of her voice had softened and her moans had become whimpers, her arms and hands having gone limp in his grasp. “Who’s in charge, Kat?” He checked as he looked at her with a satisfied smirk on his lips.
Kathleen’s brown eyes caught his, her face just as red as her ass, her eyes widened, pupils blown from lust. “Fuck. You.” She gritted through her teeth.
“Oh, that wasn’t enough was it, sweet’art?” He goaded again. “Very well.” He added. John’s hand grabbed hold of the waist band of her panties and pulled them down swiftly, noting the wet spot she had already left in them. 
“Someone’s enjoying being spanked huh, you brat? Someone likes having an attitude adjustment…” He goaded as he let go of her panties, letting them fall around her ankles.
Before Kathleen could even retort properly, John’s rough and calloused fingers delivered a slap to her puffy cunt, causing her to squirm and squeal, her legs straightening up and trembling. 
“John!” She cried out as he continued repeatedly slapping her pussy, causing her to squirm and writhe against the hard material of the armrest below her. 
“That’s it, call my name, da’lin’.” He goaded as he kept repeatedly and continuously smacking her warm, wet folds. “Who’s in charge, here, huh?”
“F-Fuck… You!” She spat at him, as she finally freed her arms from John’s weakened grip. Then, she threw an elbow back, hitting her husband squarely in the nose.
“Ah, you cunt!” John complained as he suddenly stumbled back back, one hand shooting up to cup his now bleeding nose, while Kathleen suddenly rolled off her perch on the couch.
“No, you’re the cunt!” She retorted before suddenly lunging herself at him, throwing her whole weight on top of John, who, not expecting it, landed on the floor with a hard thud.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat!” John replied as he tried to get a grab at his wife, instead, only getting her trying to grip him by the arms and pin him to the floor.
She struggled with it, of course, she might have some military training, but not nearly enough to fight him, and definitely not enough strength to fight him.
His forearms bulged under her hands, the rough skin prickling with goosebumps, the adrenaline flowing through his veins, as well as hers, the both of them desperate to fight the other.
John bucked his hips and rolled them over before she could even attempt a proper pin down, landing her on the floor with a thud and a huff from her lungs.
He grabbed her by the hair with one hand, the other gripping her wrists together and pining her to the floor instead. 
Kathleen wrapped her legs around his hip and attempted to roll them over again, unsuccessfully, so, instead, she did the only thing she could do. She leaned up and spat in John’s face.
John’s eyes closed for a moment and his jaw clenched before they opened again, looking even more angry and… horny than before. “Is that how it’s going to be, Kathleen?” He asked her as he let go of her hair and used his hand to collect the spit off his skin. 
“Yeah, it is-” She barely had time to continue before he was plugging her mouth with his fingers, causing her to swallow them and her own saliva back up, pressing down on his tongue, preventing her from continuing her tirade.
“Keep your smart-ass gob shut, sweetheart, or you won't have a fuckin' jaw to move when I'm done wit ya.” He told her, eyes locked on hers. Kathleen looked up at him, eyes widened, pupils blown, before she wrapped her lips around his fingers, beginning to give him a suck.
“That’s it…” He told her. “You look so much better with your mouth shut…” He goaded her with a smirk on his lips. Kathleen’s eyes sparkled with mischief at his comment, a clear sign that she felt challenged by his condescending tone… So, she bit down onto his fingers as hard as he could.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat…” John hissed as he pushed his fingers deeper in her mouth like one would a dog, causing her to sputter and choke, and forcing her to let go of them, allowing him to pull them back out.
“C’mere.” He demanded and grabbed her jaw with tight fingers, forcing her mouth to open, before he swished his tongue inside his own mouth to collect some saliva, before spitting it into her mouth. “Swallow.” He demanded and, for once, she obeyed. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
Kathleen then squeaked in surprise as he pulled open her robe, leaving it splayed open on the hardwood floor before he grabbed one of her legs, pushing it up against her chest while he sat over the other one.
“We need to adjust that fuckin’ attitude of yours. It’s way too bloody early for you to be fightin’ me, you hear?!” He taunted her as he undid the fly in his jeans and shimmied both his the trousers and boxer briefs down, allowing him to pull out his hardened cock.
“Fuck you, John.” She retorted as she squirmed a bit beneath him, trying to drag herself away with the help of her elbows.
“That’s what I’m about to do to you, sweetheart.” He taunted her before he quickly grabbed hold of her again, using one hand to push her down against the floor, one hand wrapped around her jaw and neck, while the other wrapped around his cock and used it to brush his leaky tip against her folds.
“John-” Kathleen grumbled as she wrapped her own hands around his hairy forearm, nails digging into his flexed muscle, dragging drown his skin.
“Sh-Shhh…”  He murmured before he drove his cock deep into her cunt, causing her to huff and moan, her head falling back as he plunged as far as he could.
“That’s my girl…” He teased her. He shifted around and lifted her other leg too, pushing it forward against her chest, allowing him to sink in deeper, before he started thrusting his hips down into her.
Her warm walls spread open to accommodate him, his cock making way inside fully with each snap of his hips. “That’s it… That’s what you needed, isn’t it?” He goaded her with a smirk. Unluckily for her, Kathleen could do little more than nod in agreement.
“Tell me you love me, da’lin’...” John cooed at his wife as he pounded deep into her, reaching that spot in her walls that only John had ever been able to reach.
“I love y-oooh…” Kathleen murmured, being cut off by a sudden shift in his demeanor, a more aggressive, ruthless rhythm coming into place, his hips snapping punishingly against hers, his cock bottoming out in her.
“That’s it, Kat, tell me you love me… Tell me you love me…” He repeated over and over. “Tell me you love me and my cock inside you, da’lin’... Tell me…”
“I love you, John…” Kathleen whined, her head rolling back on the hard floor, her arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh spot between his shoulder blades, her nails just barely grazing the tattoo on his nape.
“You’re such a fuckin’ cunt, Kat… Such a fuckin’ cunt… But I love you so much…” John murmured before he pressed his lips into hers in a sloppy, wet kiss.
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mayoonn · 1 year ago
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HELLO I HAVE A REQUEST :3
A cowboy comes to work on a ranch and is set up to live in the barn, at night the farmer sends out his oldest son (y/n) to bring the cowboy dinner, the two start to talk and drink a little, the farmer eventually calls his son back to the main house. The next day the cowboy offers to show y/n how to care for horses and they go on a ride together until it starts to rain and they wait out the rain under a bunch of trees but the two need to be huddled together to stay dry. There’s lightning and y/n is startled (not scared, they just weren’t expecting the noise) and holds onto the cowboy, then after staring at each other for a little they kiss
This makes no sense, I haven’t slept in 2 days
-🎱
Hello, dearest! Oh my, I hope you have your sleep, dear.. Sleep is very important but this is so cute, makes me giggle when I think about it (*>∇<)ノ ♥︎♥︎
Sorry , it took longer than I expected though I was sure the story is a little confusing. I was writing this while I went out earlier ꨄ
( Male reader! It can be cis or trans, very sweet fluff, mention of the reader being a tease, flirty reader, smitten cowboy, mention of the reader's father being protective)
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You were helping out with your mama, feeding and cleaning the horses while your mama was cooking. You were used to people, specifically cowboys coming in and worked a bit for your father on the ranch for extra money. You heard a lot of their story, all while they're cool but they all had in common, confident and cocky. You huffed in amusement whenever they tried to get to you, flirting and wooing you but your father kept you away from them.
It's funny, really. You're not that handsome yourself like the others said or so you assumed. You're just like your mama, you suppose it's your charm that makes you attractive. Sometimes you entertain yourself, flirt with them back and give them a little hope, only to get crushed when you decline their sweet offers.
One evening, while you're washing the dishes while humming your favorite tune. You saw a cowboy come and talk with your father, at first you thought it was just another cowboy like any other though something about him caught your eyes. You can't look away from him, his horse is so pretty and elegant. It's like it was for royalties, it's odd for a cowboy like him to have a horse like that. You chuckle, it is quite funny. You were caught by the cowboy as he gave you a cheeky grin, of course you looked away in embarrassment as you continued your chores. You can't believe you get caught by the cowboy, you're not used to getting flustered.
You sighed, getting him off of your mind. You should probably finish your chores as soon as you can, your mama doesn't like slacking off. You get up and carefully bring the plates and the cutleries to your mama, tonight is special.
Tonight was the night that everybody took their breaks, whether drinking until sunset, playing bets and gamble. It's the busiest night, full of cowboys and girls all around the town. It's the night you like to have fun with them too. It's the best way you get your tips, sometimes you just want to have fun. You were bringing arms full of plates to the tables and gave them your signature smile with a wink. You were having fun, chatting (more like flirting) with your customers until your father had called you.
You waved them goodbye and giggled when they had this lovesick smile on their faces. Your father had told you to bring the dinner to your guest, you were surprised. You never bring food to your guests,usually it's your younger sisters or brothers. You were curious, who could it be? It wasn't shocking if it's a cowboy or a cowgirl but you were sure you gave them a little extra attention. You wonder if they're fun to play with. You bring dinner to the barn and when you enter with a smile on your face, you see it was him again. The cowboy tipped his hat at you and went to take his dinner. With his grin on his face, he invited you to sit down next to him.
Of course you agreed, you were intrigued by him for no reason, maybe it's because of his handsome face or he's so well mannered with you. "My father won't like it if I'm slacking with ya, mister" you smirked as the cowboy chuckled, continued eating his dinner and thanked you. You kept chatting with few flirting here and there while the cowboy looked at you with glint in his eyes. You actually don't mind, it's like you're slowly felt comfortable with him. It's been a while since anyone wants to talk to you without them trying to win you over.
It's nice, you stood up once you realized how late it was and you need to help your mama and father out before they get suspicious. You waved goodbye at him with a smile on your face, getting flustered that you would rather stay there with him.
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The next day, you were doing your chores like usual. It was fun while it lasted last night, you hoped you could talk to that cowboy again. You heard he'll be going off later or tomorrow morning, maybe you could give him something so he can be remembered. You were so focused on what charms to give him that you didn't notice the cowboy behind you. You flinched, surprised when someone tapped your shoulder as you turned around. It was that cowboy again, "hey darlin'.. Uhh I.. You wanna ride with me?" He shyly asked as he averted his eyes, you could see small tinted blush over his cheeks. This was the first, you never had anyone so shy with you.
You smirked, "to where? My father will-" you were cut off by him quickly with his face flushed redder than before. "I already asked ya' dad, he gave me permission.. Would ya'?" He looked at you as if he was trying to be serious and intimidating but he was failing, he's shy and screaming inside as he hoped you would accept his offer. You were shocked, not only from being cut off but your father giving him permission! You were a bit suspicious but you accepted, you don't want to turn down his offer.. It's a once in a lifetime, sure you often get this from the others but this cowboy is different. You walked past him, went to his horse and you swore you could hear him silently cheer to himself. You chuckle and wait for him next to his horse.
It's been a long time since you rode horses, especially when your father won't let you outside unless you were doing your chores. The cowboy helps you sit on his horse while he sits behind you with his hand hugging your waist and the other holding the lead. You didn't want to think about it, people hold your waist a lot whether it's to move you somewhere or to flirt with you so why were you flustered now when he does it?
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You were screamed in joy, laughing as you yelled at him to go fast. The hair flew as you shut your eyes, eyes filled with tears as you cheered. Soon, he slowed down as your laugh also slowed down. Your hands were up when you rambled to him about the experience earlier until you could feel the raindrops. You looked up to see grey clouds as the cowboy guided you under a bunch of trees. "It won't do much but at leas' it's betta' than outside in the rain, sugar" he said as he huddled with you, trying to warm you up as you shivered, startled by the sudden lightning. You nodded your head with a smile on your face, that makes him looked away flustered again.
You laughed at him as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Grinning to yourself and waiting for the rain to stop until the cowboy tilted your chin up, staring at you as you both slowly leaned closer. Your eyes slowly shut once both of your lips were together, he kissed you with gentle care. It was more romantic from what you expected to be your first kiss.. He moved away with his cheeks flushed red, he shyly smiled at you. He was smitten as you both huddled together, his horse laying its head down ♡
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guizika · 1 year ago
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Disoriented
Gojo Satoru x Male reader
Cw- Male reader, you/yours pronouns, established relationship, pet names (Beautiful, Babe, Sweetheart), a little bit of angst, fluff, maybe it's a bit ooc.
Synopsis - You and Gojo are in a relationship, you fight, argue, disagree but you still love each other.
Word count - 905
This fanfic was inspired by the song "Pras Damas" by the band Oriente.
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Gojo Satoru is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer and also your beloved. You've been married for two years, your relationship is good, but like any other, it still has difficulties and challenges.
- You fight, but none of the fights are very serious, sometimes over very important things and sometimes over silly things. Most of the time you don't even really fight. However, the most important thing is that you always find a way to resolve it.
"Gojo Satoru!" Your voice comes out in a harsh tone, making Gojo start thinking about the things he's done - or failed to do - over the last few days. He swallows dryly and walks over to you, a worried expression on his face.
"Did you call me, beautiful?" He enters the room and flashes you a gentle smile, only to be greeted by a look capable of silencing anyone. "What have I done?" Satoru asks, looking at you, trying to figure out if you're too angry.
A sigh leaves your lips and then you cross your arms, your gaze momentarily softening. "I've told you more than ten times about the same thing." You direct your gaze to the kitchen sink, full of thrown cutlery and plates. "If you've made a mess, clean it up."
At this, Gojo immediately frowns and looks at the dishes in the sink. "I didn't do it." Satoru's voice comes out in a defensive tone, making you snort and crack a sarcastic smile.
"No, it was my grandmother." You say, irony evident in your voice. "Why don't you just admit it?" Hearing your words, he softens, realizing that there's no point in fighting about it.
"Sorry, I'll try to do what you said." He says smiling softly, walking over to you and giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Right, I'll take your word for it then." You voice comes out in a playful tone.
- You argue rarely, but when you do it's usually heated, causing you to remain silent for a while after all the fuss. But in the end you always understand each other.
The worst argument you ever had was at the beginning of your relationship. You see, Gojo isn't a jealous guy and he's not insecure about his relationship either. However, he got angry after seeing someone flirting with you non-stop during a Jujutsu School party.
"Why don't you just go and be with him?" He says, entering the house and heading towards your shared room while you follow. "What do you mean?" You say in an indignant tone, wanting an answer.
"You know very well what I'm talking about." He says as he takes off his tie and throws it on the bed. "Is this all about that guy who kept flirting with me?" Gojo lets out a snort and then looks at you with a serious expression. "Really?" You ask once more, only to receive silence in response.
"Say something, Satoru!" Your voice comes out in a frustrated tone by the silence. "What do you want me to say, huh?" he says, his tone almost dry. "He was hitting on you, for God's sake!" You massage your temples, knowing that this discussion shouldn't be taken any further.
"I know that and that's exactly why I wasn't paying attention to him." Gojo cuts you off before you can finish speaking. "But you were talking down to him, is he any better than me?"
Your expression twitches, showing how much what he said offended you. "I wasn't 'talking down', I was being polite." Your voice comes out harsher than expected. "By the way, if I remember correctly, there was a woman hitting on you too, wasn't there, Gojo?" Ouch, that made him fall silent, leaving him speechless.
"Exactly, that's what I imagined." Before you speak again, you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. "Babe, you know I only have eyes for you, I'm your boyfriend and not that guy's boyfriend." Hearing your words, Gojo pulls you into an embrace and burrows his head into your neck.
"I know that, but sometimes I still get insecure, I'm sorry about that." You just nod, knowing that tomorrow morning you'll have a talk about it.
- You often disagree, having different opinions and tastes, but you always find a way to mediate and please both of you.
"I don't like this one, it looks awful." Gojo says, referring to the movie you chose, making you snort. "Okay then, which one do you want?" He lights up after hearing your question and then picks up another movie, making you grimace.
"No way, look at that cover." Satoru puts his hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture after hearing your words. "Then pick one yourself, Sweetheart."
Gojo laughs and his face says it all: he hated the movie you chose. The two of you start showing each other movies, always disagreeing. When Satoru finally gets tired, he proposes a solution. "Let's take two movies, one of my choice and one of yours, so we don't waste time."
"Wow, it's a good thing my husband is so smart." You say jokingly, giving him a kiss on the cheek, receiving an amused snort in return.
- In short, you face difficulties but you still love each other. You don't always share the same opinions, but you find a way to solve problems together. Sometimes you get a bit disoriented when this happens, but together you find a way.
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Please don't translate my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
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blathannabeaga · 2 months ago
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.☽༊˚ january writing; kitchen table
jim street x reader (background luca, tan and powell & reader)
feat. civilian!reader, canon-typical violence, s6-era squad, meetugly turned meetcute, fluff
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As terrified as you’d been when you looked through the peephole of your apartment door to see those same police officers again, as the nighttime rolls around you’re not quite sure you want them to leave. Raucous laughter fills your small apartment, now cleared of broken glass and debris, as you crowd around the laden table that had brought them back here - with the broken one now lying in a pile by the dumpster, down in the alley outside your building.
Cold beers have soothed the nerves frayed by badly-worded assembly instructions, and the food you’d rustled up in thanks has gone over more than well. What with the proper seating in your kitchen having been reduced to the two straight-backed chairs that survived the brawl, the five of you are spread out around your small kitchen in other, creative means.
In pride of place at your brand-new and freshly cluttered kitchen table sit you and Tan, the surfer with questionable taste in Hawaiian shirts. Luca, the good-natured blonde who quickly lost his reputation as the handiest member of their team about ten minutes into the job, has his long legs stretched out on the kitchen floor with his back to the swinging legs of the initially impassive Powell, who broke into a grin at a bad joke of yours a couple hours ago and wears it still as she perches on a cleared patch of the counter.
And, knees almost level to his broad chest atop an upturned produce crate, is the dimpled brunette that started it all when he chased a carjacker through your ajar front door as you were leaving for work. Street, as you know him now - and not the you fucking asshole! you’d christened him almost immediately after your first meeting - sits closer to you than anyone else, the ice-cold tension between you long since warmed into something that feels like the tender beginnings of a friendship.
With the rest of them, how they’ve taken to you and you to them, the same feels likely. But, you’d be quick to admit that if it had been Tan, Luca or Powell who’d had tomorrow off and offered to stay behind to help clean up and not Street, you wouldn’t have been as silently happy about it.
The front door clicks softly shut behind the departing three, and silence falls over your apartment since the first time it opened to allow them in. In the living room, tattered instruction papers and plastic baggies of leftover screws litter the floor and you toe them into a neat little pile to be dealt with tomorrow, after some much-needed rest has been gotten. From the kitchen, there’s the squeak of the tap turning on and the sound of water running before a soft clatter of ceramics, and you peer around the corner at the source.
Street stands at the sink, having cleared the table of delph and cutlery, dousing the dishes in the hot soapy water of the sink. Steam curls into the air and catches in the yellowed light offered by the old bulbs above, and God does he look well under it. He ventures a look your way, and gives a subdued smile at the sight of your hovering before returning his attention to the work at hand.
In a quiet tandem, you fix the kitchen back up. On the streets below, cars whir past and people call out to one another from the sidewalks and the whole thing engineers a weirdly pleasant air.
“That was some of the best food I think I’ve ever had.” Street tells you sincerely, breaking the comfortable silence as he places the last of the dishes on the adjacent drying rack. Wiping his hands of soapsuds on a patterned teatowel, he leans back against the counter to look at you earnestly as you clear the empty beer bottles off the table. “Seriously, we didn’t expect that. Thank you.”
“Felt like the least I could do.” You tell him, just as truthfully. Dropping the bottles in the bin, you take a seat at your shiny new table and crack open the last beer with a smile. “You guys saved me having to fork out for a new table and lug it all the way up those damn stairs.”
Street grins as he pads over to take the other seat. Knotting his big hands together, he leans forward on his elbows and makes a plaintive gesture. “Seeing as I was responsible for throwing a guy through the last one, it felt like the polite thing.”
“Well, it’s still appreciated.” And it’s the truth - after the abuse you’d hurled at him as the rest of his team had swarmed your apartment, heavy tactical boots trampling over already broken possessions, you were half expecting them to have come to your door with a citation. Tipping back another mouthful of cool beer, you concede a nod as you look up at him. “You’re all quite nice company, actually. Y’know, when you’re not bursting through the door in uniform and chucking people through my furniture.”
He pinkens a little, but still smiles as turns his gaze to his lap. This solid, hulking weapon of a man growing sheepish under the weight of your attention draws a laugh from you and it carries through your voice as you speak again. “Try and keep that in mind going forward, yeah?”
Like a child hearing the rattle of a dinnerbell, his ears perk. Surprise paints his pretty features, and underneath is something else - something that looks like satisfaction, however veiled he keeps it. “There’s a going forward here?”
“I’d like to think so.” Nodding, you fold your arms loosely over your chest as you settle back into the chair as the corners of your mouth lift upwards. “Or else I’m worried Luca will stage another footchase to bust in and grab my mate’s jocón recipe.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t really play about his food.” Street says, through a low chuckle. They live together, Luca and him, and you can only imagine the wealth of stories and entertainment to be found there from what you were told today. “Careful with him, or he’s gonna have you spending your weekends by his side in that damn truck.”
Certain that some of your past bosses were away from the underworld on weekend passes, you’re sure he would make a fine boss. “I could imagine worse.”
Slinging back the last of the beer, you twist around to leave the bottle with the rest and the clink of glass on glass rises above the bustling outside.
“Think we, uh, went though most of the beer.” Street admits, and the both of you need no further reminding of Powell’s adamance that the booze was only helping her coordination. You noticed that Street seems to keep an eye on her, in an exacerbated mentor kind of way, and you find it sweet. “Wasn’t much of a gift, was it?”
“I wouldn’t worry.” You assure. Rising from the table, you drum your fingers atop the smooth wood and show him a wry look. “I’ll have it restocked when you come by tomorrow.”
His eyes widen, but there’s eagerness there. As you tread out to the hallway off the living room he follows, low voice reverberating off the close walls. “Tomorrow?”
“Shit, you’re not getting off that easy.” The laugh you bark out is stark, but not unkind. “I’ve got two flatpacked dining chairs coming in the morning that need putting together.”
He laughs at that, rich and warm, and nods his agreement. Blue-checked flannel stretches over clothed muscle as he shrugs his jacket on, brown eyes seeking yours out with a mischievous look behind them.
“You know”, Street begins thoughtfully, leaning against the closed door. “I feel like watching Powell and Tan curse bloody murder at that table for two hours has taught me enough to tackle something like that on my own.” 
“I’d say so, too.” The ease with which you agree sends a flurry of warmth through Street’s stomach. Unbolting the door, you hover there in the jamb as he stands in the hallway and finds your eyes are just as wry as your voice. “Just try knocking this time around, yeah?”
Rosiness paints his cheeks even in the dim, flickering light of the hallway, and his smile glows all the same. “Will do.”
Something tells you he’ll be able to remember which door is yours. 
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balkanradfem · 2 months ago
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As you might have figured out, I don't like buying stuff. I despise the store, the supermarket, the mall, to hell with them. I will make whatever I need from stuff I have at home, or I will find it outside, or get it from someone who doesn't need it anymore, my last ditch effort will be the second hand market.
But, it also happens that I had a need to buy.. a specific thing. And I couldn't get it from the second hand market, and I didn't know anyone who had an extra one. This of course, caused me pain and anguish, because it meant I would have to walk into a store, grab a product that wasn't strictly necessary for human survival, and then pay for it, and walk out. Like a consumer.
And it's not like my life depended on it, I just, really wanted one, okay.
I needed a silicone spatula.
One thing I hate even more than buying things, is throwing food away, and sometimes,,, I could not get the last drop of the soup from the big soup pot, I couldn't wrangle out the last few drops of salsa sauce I canned, I couldn't get every last bit of pancake mix to drip outside the bowl. That is another torment which I tried to resolve by excessive spoon scraping, shoving my tongue inside jars, trying to dilute it with water and getting it out that way. But deep inside I knew there was a better way. That this could be dealt with in an easy, efficient, satisfying way with a single valuable object. A spatula.
I didn't do it impulsively; I had gotten some excellent news and I decided, as a celebration, that I would buy myself a spatula. It would be one thing I do out of my ordinary life, because it was an extraordinary day and I had just so much happiness and courage I could just manage to buy an object.
I have examined multiple stores to see what they were offering, and in the end found the cheapest, but the most beautiful looking spatula (it had a transparent handle with little bubbles inside, so fun!) and I grabbed it in awe, thinking how it will be the most beautiful object in the kitchen. But then. My environment-loving brain warned me that I'm about to buy an object made out of silicone. And I didn't know if silicone was environmentally friendly!
So I grabbed my phone, typed in 'environmental impact of silicone production' and read articles obsessively, standing in the store in the spatula isle. I found out it is better than plastic, but not ideal; it's not actively damaging the environment, it comes from natural materials, it's very resistant to heat and unlikely to damage anyone's health, it doesn't shed microplastic, but it's energy-consuming to produce it and it doesn't degrade or compost once it's made.
It wasn't a good environmental choice for me to buy the spatula. I was staring at it longingly, thinking of all of the food I could save with it. All the jars I could scrape clean, all soup that would be eaten. And I came to the conclusion that if this is the only spatula I ever buy, if I never throw it away, if I find someone to give it to at the moment of my death, who would also use it – then it doesn't matter as much that it's non compostable. It will be a lifetime object that I will cherish. And the rush and excitement I had built up, I couldn't give it up. So filled with existential guilt and shame for single handledly ruining the environment, I purchased my 2 euro spatula.
And it was glorious. Every single day I would be filled with happiness and satisfaction from this object, which would clean bowls and jars and pots from food so efficiently I actually had less work washing them later! I was getting more food, nothing was getting thrown away, my food-efficient brain was with me; this was an excellent idea. I am powerful, I am not wasting any food anymore, I can clean my pots and bowls with ease, all of the pancake mix is out, the joy could not be greater.
And just then – my new roommate moved in. And I love my roommate, and I noticed she didn't have any dishes or cutlery, so I told her with open heart, she could use mine as much as she likes, and I'd lend her pots and pans too if she needed them. Of course I would, she's a hard-working woman from Nepal who is so kind and works so much every day.
But this lovely, wonderful, awe-inspiring woman, decided to... she decided to cook her food exclusively using the spatula. We have so many wooden spoons meant for cooking and stirring, without even looking I can tell you we have 8. An excessive amount. They are all displayed in a big jar where I keep my spoons, wooden spoons and spatula. But the woman decided, no, I will use the spatula to cook every meal. Maybe it's because it's new and shiny? Maybe it's what she uses at home? I don't know.
And after cooking, she simply discards the spatula at the bottom of the sink.. and leaves it there.
And then I come to the kitchen, and look for spatula, and realize it's dirty, and I'm unwilling to do other people's dishes because that has never gone well in the past, so I just. Leave it there. And then make pancakes and weep. Because what have I done. I don't have the heart to tell this kind, warm, hardworking woman to not use my spatula, because she has enough trouble already in life, and she must like the spatula if she uses it! I can't tell her to wash it every time immediately because I know she has to rush for work and I also fail to do my dishes consistently and just wash them on Saturdays. I would look like a hypocrite. I can't tell her I'm a weirdo obsessed with scraping food from everything I cook in because I don't want to freak her out. And ultimately, does it really matter that much? It's just a spatula. It's just a spatula.
So I am writing to merely share my pain, caused by odd tendencies, enhanced by intense struggle with consumerism, and finding out in the end, it didn't even matter. My beloved spatula is currently in the sink, drenched and sullied from not even scraping food, but from stirring it instead. I was so happy to use it for a little bit. May she rest in peace.
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