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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 5 months

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THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.

It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.

He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.

It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.

His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it.

As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.

He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."

When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.

Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly.

Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.

“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.”

“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.”

“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”

“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”

It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry.

"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.

"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"

"Think of the war, your grace⎯"

Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up.

Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair.

“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”

“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”

“Send treaties, then!”

“Please, Aegon. I ask as your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again. I do not wish to marry again. Please do not send me away again.” You beg, your voice cracking.

Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son.

“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.”

“Your grace, if you would just⎯”

“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

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lifetimeoftired · 1 month

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How to adopt a dead kid in three weeks or less

It's midnight and I'm hopped up on that ADHD juice. Been thinking on and off about this prompt and how things play out. Might clean this up for ao3 posting later but whatever.

Part 1 || Part 2

____

Danny can feel the weight of their stares like it’s physical. A last mournful glance at his pancakes- Actually no, fuck it. He grabs the last one from his plate, flashes the whole Wayne family a peace sign, and turns invisible. The pancake is eaten as he dashes out the door and away from the shouting and chaos he leaves the family in.

“Where the FUCK did he go!?” Jason’s shout somehow made it above the din of the others- and got Bruce and Dick yelling ‘language’ back at him. The pricks.

“I say! Watch your tone Master Jason! As for the rest of you-” The whole family shut the immediate fuck up when Alfred speaks. His displeased expression more than enough to cow them into submission. “I expect you to clean up after yourselves today and a quiet trip to the batcave to find our new ward. Master Jason, you will be taking care of Master Danny’s plates, and I will hear of an apology from you for scaring that poor boy.”

There’s a chorus of ‘yes Alfred’ from the chastised bats, but Bruce- carefully mind you- presses.

“Alfred, how long has he been here? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“The young master has been staying for the past three weeks sir. And despite my best attempts, I have not yet been able to convince him to sleep in his own room.”

Bruce groans and rubs at his face before turning back to his other children, “Nobody thought to tell me!?”

The kids all look at each other, and then back at him with the most judgmental ‘are you serious’ looks they can muster. Except Cassandra, who very excitedly signs; New brother! All Bruce can do is sigh into his hands.

“We’ll discuss this later-”

“Why didn’t you notice then old man?” Jason grins, a little feral at Bruce’s dirty look but sue him.

“Okay okay, let’s hurry up and get this place cleaned up. There’s no telling how far Danny got- and the sooner we go after him the sooner we figure out what’s going on.” Dick said, quickly gathering his own plate.

“And the sooner I can get all of you presents.” The entire family stops. Staring at Jason in shock. “Only the finest ‘World’s best detective’ mugs for all of you!”

The groan he gets from all of them is perfect.

“I cannot believe you didn’t think to tell me either!” Batman scolds Oracle later.

Everyone is out in force. Even Batwoman, Batwing, and Bluebird (after having a good laugh at Batman’s expense) had joined. They had all been searching for Danny the better part of the day. Batman had even agreed to let Red Robin and Robin join the search and skip school. That’s how seriously the kids knew he was taking this. And how important it was for one of them to get to Danny before Batman scared him off for good with his infamous paranoia.

“If you didn’t notice, that one’s on you Batman.” God Jason really loved Barbara sometimes.

“Oracle would not have allowed a dangerous individual into our midst. She is thorough when it comes to such things.” Robin is moving fast, probably swinging right behind Batman. No doubt headed east where the nicer areas were and any sane person was bound to head.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, baby bat.”

“O, you wouldn’t happen to have a new update on Danny’s whereabouts would you? Or anything from his past?” Nightwing cuts in after Robin’s little ‘Tt’. He’s somewhere near the border to Bludhaven, in case Danny’s making it out that way.

“Nothing Nightwing.” They can hear her frustration, and concern, through the voice modulator. “The kid’s practically a ghost. All I can tell you is that he’s not from Gotham. What little I can find of his time here in Gotham is some security feeds of dumpster diving and sleeping on a bench.”

“He’s also definitely a meta.” Signal mutters, somewhere to the west and near the coast..

Jason remains quiet and lets them all talk. As funny as it is- and holy shit Jason will never let any of them live this down ever- it is a little strange this random kid would just... Show up out of nowhere. Meta or not. Alfred said he wouldn’t sleep in a bed of his own, but he also hadn’t left until after Jason questioned his existence. This ‘Danny’ had been around the manor, the bats coming and going, for weeks. He could’ve found out their secrets, and even if he hadn’t sold them out yet, there’s no telling who might pick him up and drag those secrets out of him. Or worse, if he was sent here by someone, then they needed to find out who. And fast…

….

Ugh. He sounded like Batman.

“Hey guys, how well do you even know Danny?” Jason pulls over near an abandoned apartment building. Cutting the engine to his bike to hear them all better. “He was there for a few weeks, pick up anything on him? Might help us figure out where he ran off to.” That last bit was added as an afterthought, not wanting to be too paranoid, but it was also true.

“I know how this is going to sound, but uh, well, he does seem really nice actually.” Signal helpfully offers. “Dick and I ran into Danny I think not long after he got there?”

“O’s camera feed tells us Danny arrived at the manor 28 days ago, Thursday night 11:38 PM. Looking at the records, he was picked up prior to that in front of Wayne Enterprises by one of our drivers- Archer Tenson. He’s reliable and honest, no record of any sort that would make him a suspect of subterfuge.” Nightwing rattles off the information pretty calmly, but they all know him well enough to hear the concern. “According to the records, he was going to pick up the caffeine addict after the cafe got an alert of his fourth Death Latte-” They all ignored Red Robin’s little ‘hey!’, “-and dropped him off safely at home.”

“Red Robin.” Batman’s parental disapproval was palpable through the comms.

“There wasn’t a fourth Death Latte!” Red Robin protested from his place in the batcave. Aiding in the digital search and combing over the camera feeds over the past few weeks for any information about Danny. “The third Death Latte was the last one. An Alert at W.E. was the plan the whole night. Nobody made it back to the manor until sunrise and the cafe kept saying there wasn’t any more coffee and-!” He gasped, horrified! Outraged! And the rest were left to hold their snickers as Red Robin said, “He stole my last coffee!”

“That’s right, Danny said he was a caffeine addict too.” Batwing mused. Probably flying somewhere over the more open suburbia in case Danny was trying to make a break out of the city that way.

“Wait when did you meet Danny?” Spoiler asked- Jason knew she was patrolling nearby with Bluebird. Those two, Orphan and Signal were the only ones who were allowed to come close to Crime Alley. Mainly because they annoyed Jason the least, but also because they understood how bad the streets could get and looked the other way better than the others. Signal surprised him about that one.

“Start from the beginning.” Batman orders. “Nightwing, Signal, you met Danny when?”

“Looking back, it was actually the day after he got there it sounds like.” Signal sighs. “I was headed downstairs for breakfast, and saw Dick in one of the sitting rooms. I thought I saw our caffeine addict passed out on the couch and thought dick was going to wake him, so I went in to help…”

#dc x dp #batman #batfamily #jason todd #danny fenton #writing prompt #the next few bits will be all the bats and their meetings with danny

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roturo · 9 months

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⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚ WATCH IT!

Gojo Satoru didn't predicted this move... So he ended up fucking you lol ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ G!Satoru x afab!reader and sex pollen!

tags: smut, sex pollen, unprocteted sex (wrap it and pee after sex), overstimulation (like A LOT), use of nicknames (princess, baby, good boy, love...) multiple rounds, praise kink, angst if you squint your eyes till you cry like gojo, sub(ish)!gojo satoru, god complex, fluff if you take one eye out, crack, belly bulgde, creampie, breeding kink, crempie kink, A LOT of cum, dumbfication, cock warming, npr.

A/N: happy holidays! might be my last writing of the year so i wish you lots of love and happiness <3 i might write pt2 for this one and 'she's back', which one would you like first?

o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

DAY 1: HOW IT STARTED

How the fuck at his grown ass age Gojo Satoru could be this stupid. And that’s big coming from him, because this man considers himself the senior of seniors and god of gods. So, how come he falled into this?

And you know what? Maybe it is his fault! For believing he’s a superior and underestimating such a weak and useless curse he just killed. But, this weak and useless curse has him going crazy. That really was karma paying back to him because motherfucker- Why is he feeling all giddy and hot all of sudden? This has never happened to him before, so that’s why he’s losing his mind right now and almost sprinting into his room because of how bothered he was feeling to just teleport.

Everything was like hell. Really, like hot as hell. And how does Satoru know that? Uh well, because he’s living it right now.

He couldn’t bear the sensation anymore and dialogue Shoko’s number like it was a habit.

“What do you want, Gojo? I’m in the middle of trying to know how Yuuji’s body is capable of being Sukuna’s vessel. Like- It’s quite important right now, and more than debating about some of your dumb tv shows you-”

Shoko’s voice was interrupted by a whine coming from Gojo’s line, seconds of silence continued the awkward moment between the both of them, while all Gojo could do was breathe and maintain his whines inside of his body before he started literally moaning.

“Are you okay, Gojo?...”

“Fuck, no. Some fucking curse sprayed me all over with some fucking stinky pollen. Didn’t even taste great, by the way. And now I'm just feeling really hot, sometimes dizzy… or kinda giddy? fuck. And my breathing became irregular. I’m fucking sprawled out in my bed trying to find a comfy position but my legs won’t cooperate.”

A loud laugh was heard coming from Shoko’s line. It was clear she’s been holding it all this time just trying to make sure she’s gettin it right.. and well.

“Gojo.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you hard right now?”

Silence.

“You know what? I’m sending Y/N over there with some medicine. You’ve been sprayed with sex pollen by the way.”

Sex- what?!

Before he couldn’t even ask Shoko any question since she quickly hung up. Leaving a needy and confused (and hard) Gojo.

Knock. Knock.

No answer, but a weird sounding moan? You gave yourself permission to enter Gojo’s room since no life signals were heard. But- holy fuck. Was this a reward or a punishment from the gods?

He was kneeled down on his bed, one of his hands used as a support placed in his bare calf while his other hand was as fast as possible jerking himself off. You stayed still some seconds before rewinding back to what Shoko told you before coming here.

“He might be another type… of… Gojo?... Anyways. He’ll be really needy and like a lost puppy looking for some salvation. I gave you this backpack with all you would need, yeah? Thank me later and good luck.”

So that’s why her flat ass was quickly sending you off with a backpack full of water bottles and snacks. Sex fucking pollen. Great.

It’s not like people don’t know that both of you have been crushing into each other lately, hell- even his newest student asked about this. But you never expected for it to be like this.

“G-Gojo…?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but it’s like a hawk located his next prey because of how instant his reaction was just for your voice. A drunk smile on his face, while both of his hands fall infront of him trying to hide the act that was going on minutes ago. His sculptured white as snow body covered in a hot layer of sweat. Not being able to catch a breath thanks to this sight, somehow he’s in front of you.

“Are you here to help me? Y/N?”

His voice sounded so different. But at the same time it was just Gojo.

A small nod was all the reaction he got. You could smell that sweaty smell, looking down you found yourself looking at a large wet spot staining his black briefs. While his cock does nothing to imagination, marking perfectly the shape of it. Moving your gaze to his v-line, a white happy trail proudly adorning it. Eyes moving up, you found yourself looking at his clearly erected nipples, But all this examination was over once he interrupted your thoughts.

“I need a verbal affirmation, princess”

Ah, the nicknames. If you weren’t wet by now, you’re pretty sure you’re leaking right now all because of him.

“Yes Satoru, I’ll help you.”

His knees felt weak. Literally. He kneeled down in front of you, it was like he hypnotized and somehow could smell through your body into emotions. His hands were cold but hot at the same time he roamed your body.

You tried warning him by calling his name while he started kissing the softness of your thighs, telling him to at least move you towards the bed. And his body was doing what you said like if you were controlling him, while his mind was somewhere else. He moved the both of you towards his bed, making you lie down. His head not wasting any second between your thighs until his nose touched where you needed him the most and you whimpered at the feeling. Clearly triggering a new kind of need inside Gojo.

Everything happened really fast. Between some kisses and moaning, Gojo ripped your shorts and pantoes a muffled noise coming out from him of what you suppose was “I’ll buy you new ones later” but right now you couldn’t care less.

Not when his tongue slowly started tracing the way from your entrance until it reached your core. Teasing it with kitten licks, while his hands remained on your hips from preventing moving them.

His tongue quickly found a rhythm between your entrance and your clit, forming infinite signs between them. And the simulation was too much you couldn’t notify Gojo about your orgasm- But he was so lost in the feeling of your thighs suffocating him and the taste of yourself in his lips, he swears he could die as a happy man right now.

And like it wasn’t enough, Gojo kept eating you out even after your intense orgasm. Overstimulation taking over your body, trying to take him off your core, ended up with annoyed groans coming out from him.

“Satoru, love, fuck. I need you to stop, please.”

The nickname had him exploding with happiness, he really looked like a puppy from this angle. His eyes looked ethereal, his mouth covered with your fluids and his face was with a cute smile while he called out your name.

“Will you please let me fuck you?”

A small giggle came out from your mouth, Gojo’s face looked a little sad and embarrassed, but was quickly erased when you pecked his lips. And that was all he needed to clumsily take off his briefs and while he climbed back to the bed, taking off your top while doing so. His eyes were full of adoration looking over your body, before he pressed his lips into yours, locking them for a long moment, clearly enjoying the moment, before the kiss turned more heated and he started kissing every part of your body again.

His tip was now wet thanks to your folds, Easily slipping through it.

“Ffuck- Ssatoru- Be a good boy and put it in, please?”

Gojo needed no more words before thrusting his cock whole into you with one swift movement, hitting perfectly against that spongy spot that made you see stars. But something didn’t feel right. Not in a bad way. Since you re-opened your eyes to find a glassy eyed Satoru mumbling a lot of ´sorry’s´ while he kept thrusting.

Oh.

He came with just one thrust and was overstimulating himself, still rock hard with no break while he hid his face in the crook of your neck while marking it as his and tearing down from the pleasure.

You’re pretty sure he came again, when he whimpered your name and moaned against your ear but still continued thrusting into you perfectly. And he was so lost in the pleasure of overstimulating himself he didn’t realize once he confessed to you.

“You’re so pretty- ffuck– I really want to make you mine now. So no one could look at you, not even in a friendly way. Just… have you all for me- sshit. I love you.”

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, thinking it was all because of the moment, so you just had to enjoy it for now. His thrusts were so fast and hard, but somehow still felt romantic. Like this was a normal routine on a daily basis. And you would be disgusted by the pool of cum forming under the both of you if you weren’t so close to your third orgasm this night. No matter how many times you told Gojo to stop for a moment and take a break, he would cum again, and still be hard so he had to keep thrusting.

Your mind is lost now. All you could ever think about right now was Gojo Satoru and his immense cock. He wouldn’t stop mumbling praises to you, saying this was all for you to feel good and he would stop once you cum at least 3 times more than him. A hard dare to get over with. Or maybe it already happened?

You begged for mercy, not thinking he could get another orgasm out of you. Hell- to even get an orgasm out of him. His hands interweld into yours, and moved it down towards your tummy.

“Do you feel it, baby? I'm right here. Ahh~ I’m pretty sure my cum is there too heh. Your tummy is full of me and my cum.”

He sounded drunk. Like. Really drunk. But his words took off your last orgasm of the night, apparently your reaction making his trigger off and cum… dry?

How many fucking times did Gojo Satoru came inside you?

Will pills even prevent a pregnancy?

“Ah- shit baby.”

You couldn’t pay attention to him anymore, quickly slipping into dreamland. Gojo not once leaves your side. Literally. He was cock-warming, still hard, but no energy (and cum) to continue his misery.

You were here at 7.45 o’clock, one last look at the clock and it was 3.23 in the morning.

And it was like you just blinked, because a whimper came out of your mouth. Looking again into the clock, it was 10 AM, and Gojo was not over.

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hausofwoo · 3 months

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swallow | park seonghwa

pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader

word count: 5.6K

this is part 2 of open wide! if you have not yet read part 1, i highly suggest reading it first.

summary: ever since that night, seonghwa has been avoiding you. but when new guy yunho starts at the restaurant, tensions rise until it reaches a breaking point.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender!seonghwa, server!reader, enemies to lovers trope, smoking (cigarette), alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all), dick slapping, biting, cumplay, oral (f receiving), face sitting, creampie, degrading, use of petnames (princess, baby), the passion is T H E R E, woosan allegations once again, feat. new guy!yunho, server/work bestie!ryujin, servers!wooyoung and san, restaurant manager!hongjoong.

author's note: i already intended on making a part 2 of open wide, and everyone's feedback was so sweet and helpful on part 1! thank u again to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers as always :-) plz enjoy ♡ ✧*

your eyes flutter open to the birds chirping outside. it’s way too fucking early to be awake right now. you feel yourself in a half-dream half-awake state, mind fuzzy and floaty. you turn your head to the side to see the man you spent the night with; the man who made you feel so good.

you rub your eyes a bit, attempting to wipe away the sleepiness. your vision adjusts, and you take a deeper look at him. seonghwa.

he really is beautiful. perfectly plump lips, long eyelashes, and there’s something about the way his nose is just a liiiiittle bit bumped at the bridge. even in his flaws you find beauty. you can’t resist gazing at him while he sleeps, his hair all messy in his face. why is it that he is so beautiful, yet the way he treats you is so far from that?

he shifts a bit, letting out a gentle sigh. your eyes begin to droop again, and you feel yourself drift off to the sound of his soft breathing.

when you wake, your bed feels cold. he left. you sit up slowly, stretching your arms up to ring out the exhaustion from your body. you look back at the empty spot next you.

it’s interesting that he left without a word, but you don’t know what to make out of it. before last night, you clearly couldn’t stand each other. you thought he was conceited and condescending. he was rude. and even during last night, his ego pooled over. but was the mere thought of missing him childish? you can’t help but to feel like there was something more to it. there was something on a deeper level that made you curious, therefore you wanted it back even more so. you started to feel like those girls from the movies; the ones where the girl becomes clingy after a one night stand. a cliché.

so what if he didn’t stay? it’s not like he actually felt anything for you. it was just a quick fuck. you probably were just another girl that he decided to throw a bone to. that’s what cocky men like him enjoy; just someone to string along and play with until he’s bored with them. you figured that time came sooner than you expected. well fuck him.

he hasn’t made eye contact with you once since you came in to work. you have the section right in front of the bar (thanks for nothing, hongjoong) so you have to just bear through it every time you pass him by. you prep your tables for service, wiping them down mindlessly.

you suppose there isn’t really a right way to go about this. sleeping with a coworker is a no-no, especially in restaurants. it gets messy (but it happens nonetheless). it’s not like you can go up to him and talk to him as if nothing happened. he didn’t exactly set you up for success either. he left without a word, and now you’re forced into the same space as him, clueless as to what to do. you decide to just ignore him unless absolutely necessary.

ryujin hops over next to you, a little too peppy for how you’re feeling.

“are you ready for a great service tonight?” ryujin says sarcastically, but with a grin.

“i want it to be over already,” you force out a dry chuckle, still half-assing the prep for your tables.

“the hell is wrong with you?” ryujin snorts.

“i’ll just—“ you start, but then realize you felt eyes burning into you. you look up the moment seonghwa’s gaze shifts, going back to wiping down the bar. “um, i’ll tell you later.”

“okay…” ryujin says, puzzled. she walks back to her section to prep.

your eyes are compelled to shift back up to seonghwa. at this point it just feels embarrassing to be wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he felt what you felt sunday night. your thoughts are interrupted by hongjoong approaching you with a tall man, someone new.

“this is yunho,” hongjoong says, almost presenting the man to you. “he’s going to be trailing you tonight. just show him the ropes and i’ll grab him once dinner service slows down.”

yunho steps forward, extending a hand to you. “it’s so nice to meet you!” he gives you a warm smile as you shake his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you too, yunho,” you say, surprised by the immediate kindness. this feels a lot nicer than how you’ve been treated before.

tuesday nights are usually slow, even during dinner service. you had a decent amount of tables, but nothing you couldn’t handle. and fortunately the new guy caught on really quickly, grabbing the drinks for your tables, clearing empty plates when needed… working with him was making your shift a breeze.

“you’ve worked in restaurants before, haven’t you?” you ask yunho. you refill a water jug for your table with him in the back.

“yeah, i have,” he says meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you can tell?”

“definitely,” you nod with a smile. “what happened at the last place?”

“the management,” he chuckles, and you knew exactly what he meant without any explanation. “don’t tell anyone, but i quit without notice.”

you fake a gasp, pretending to clutch your pearls. you let out a light-hearted laugh. “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

yunho gives a sweet smile to you, eye contact lingering a bit. you look down and realize the jug of water started overflowing and quickly move it away, letting out a humored yelp.

“oops,” he whispers, and you both giggle quietly to each other while wiping down the mess.

little did you know, seonghwa was entering the back to switch kegs for the beer on tap, and he walked in on your giggle-fest. he looks between the two of you momentarily as he continues to the back. you don’t even notice him until he passes. in a strange way, you can almost see annoyance radiating off of him. but maybe you’re making things up?

at the end of service, you finish closing all your tabs and count your tips at the bar with ryujin and wooyoung. yunho was in the back with hongjoong, debriefing the shift. you assumed seonghwa was in the back too, but you pushed away the curiosity.

“what a slow night,” ryujin sighs. she holds up her measly few bills and fakes a cry.

“how was training the new guy?” wooyoung inquires, packing his things.

“it was really good,” you can’t help but smile a little too big. your face drops when seonghwa walks back out to the bar, carrying a pack of beer to restock. you swear he steals a glance at you before kneeling down to refill the low-boys.

“speak of the devil!” ryujin grins, with all of you shifting your view to see yunho walking to the bar with an apron in hand.

“i think you guys might be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, fake-cockily. the three of you congratulate him, all while seonghwa minds to himself.

“when’s your next shift then?” you ask.

“hongjoong said i’ll train the rest of the week, and then my first day live is sunday,” he says, throwing his bag on his shoulder.

“you know what that means…” wooyoung voices mischievously.

“uhhh, what does that mean?” yunho utters, a curious expression on his face.

“sunday celebration!” ryujin throws her hands up in excitement.

“what the hell is sunday celebration?” yunho laughs.

“basically,” ryujin starts, “it’s where we all go out after our shift to a dive bar nearby and drink away our sorrows. but this time we can drink in ACTUAL celebration!”

“i could be down for that,” yunho says. he looks directly to you. “will i see you there?”

your lips part to answer, but your ears are punctured by glass shattering, and the sound of beer fizzing on the floor. your head snaps over to see seonghwa grumbling and picking up the pieces.

“party foul!” wooyoung says jokingly, but then was met with seonghwa’s glare. “kidding…”

you stand from the bar stool and gather your things, taking the cue to leave. “i’m gonna head out. yunho, see you tomorrow?”

“yup,” he says, holding back a smile. “i’ll see you then.”

you turn to walk to the door, feeling eyes like daggers piercing your back.

seonghwa is messing up a lot lately. which is very unlike him, being that he’s a perfectionist. you rang up an order of drinks for your tables, and yeah it was quite a few drinks, but you had never seen him mistake a gin martini for a vodka martini. you approach the drink pass with the misfired drink, setting it down.

“seonghwa,” you call to him, pointing at the drink. “i need a gin martini.”

“that IS a gin martini,” he says flatly, filling a beer from the tap. so sure of himself.

“no,” you insist. “this is vodka.”

he approaches the pass, setting down the beer with its appropriate ticket. he plucks a cocktail straw to do a straw taste of the drink. but with the sip, he wasn’t remotely shaken. he just tosses the liquid in the sink, remaking it without a word.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” he says while stirring the beverage.

“are you gonna make it right this time?” you snap.

he places the drink on the pass, clearly pissed off. he slams the ticket next to the drink and glares at you, almost too close. you feel the huffs of his irritated breaths fanning your face, and for the first time since that night, you really look at each other. but all that was tangible in the air was anger.

“run your drink, princess.” he enunciates your nickname, packing a punch.

after finishing your closing duties, you’re ready to leave and put this shift behind you. you wave goodbye to your coworkers and start heading out the back door, it being held open by a loose brick. just as your feet hit the pavement of the alley, you hear your name being called behind you.

“wait!” you turn to yunho calling after you, and stopping in the doorway. “you leaving?”

“oh, uh, yeah,” you say, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “i got all my side work done so i’m heading home.”

“oh, okay,” he says shyly, obviously with a second thought on his mind.

you look at each other for a moment, but not out of awkwardness, just with a peculiar feeling of enticement.

“so um, how was training with wooyoung today?” you ask.

“oh yeah,” yunho laughs. “it was good. he’s really funny with his tables.”

“yeah, that guy’s definitely a yapper,” you both giggle to each other in amusement.

“sooo… you’re walking home?” he asks, leaning on the frame of the door.

“i usually walk home, i don’t live that far,” you explain.

“me too! maybe i can walk you—“ yunho gets cut off by seonghwa barging into the doorway.

“can i borrow her for a sec?” seonghwa says, barely making it a question.

yunho hesitantly nods, “yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you later?” he says to you, giving you a small wave.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow yunho,” you force a smile, with a pleading HELP ME written behind your eyes.

seonghwa leads you to the walk in, slamming the door behind him. he hovers over you and you can literally see the heat fuming off of him.

“what do you want, seonghwa?” you ask bluntly, trying your best not to sound intimidated.

“we need to talk,” he growls at you, stepping forward, forcing you to press up against the wall behind you.

“about what?” you quip with a begging tone. is this really the time to talk about it?

your eyes bore into each other, faces inches apart. his snarl nearly dissipates when he rips his eyes away from yours for a moment to glance at your lips. you blink up at him in temptation. you can feel the tension in the air, wondering if it was contempt or all encompassing desire. perhaps it was both.

“th–that shit you pulled earlier, don’t do it again,” seonghwa hesitantly lets out, nearly losing his composure.

“what, when you fucked up my drink order?” you ask.

“when you grilled me in the middle of service,” he defends.

“for fucking up, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “doesn’t feel nice to be scolded for your mistakes, does it?”

he glares at you for a beat, clearly unsure how to dig himself out of this hole. a hole that he dug. as if he snapped out of a trance, he steps back slightly. he clenches his jaw, and in a swift motion, withdraws from the walk-in. you’re left alone, still pressed up against the icy wall. a rolling cloud escapes your lips, making you realize you had been holding your breath.

it felt like sunday night didn’t come soon enough. this weekend was busier than usual, so all the running around on top of the rigidity of seonghwa was making you go mad. it’s difficult to avoid someone you hate when you have to retrieve drink orders from him all day. luckily, he just reserved to himself and you followed suit.

throwing your bag onto the bar, you slump into the bar seat at the end of the night.

“here,” hongjoong passes a shift beer to each of the servers at the bar, including you. “you guys need these after this weekend.”

you give a thank you while cracking it open, taking a big gulp. you let out a big sigh of relief.

“you’re right, hongjoong,” you say blissfully. “i did need this.”

ryujin snickers next to you, nudging your shoulder. “there will be plenty more at sunday celebration, don’t you worry.”

“speaking of,” san says, grabbing the shoulders of yunho. “congrats on your first live shift, yunho!”

“yeah, how was it?” you ask. you can’t help but smile at the beaming man.

“it went…” yunho starts, pausing for effect. “swimmingly.”

“sounds like a cause for celebration!” ryujin sing-songs, raising her beer in salute.

you all raise your glasses, short one person of course: seonghwa, who was mopping down the bar floor. after a hefty drink, wooyoung crushes his can first and tosses it in the trash.

“let’s start celebrating, sannie,” wooyoung says, throwing his arm over san’s shoulder. (seriously, what the hell is going on there?)

san and wooyoung book it out the door and ryujin follows soon after, finishing her beer and beckoning you to join.

“almost done, you go ahead!” you encourage, packing up your things hap-hazardly with one hand and chugging your beer with the other.

“shit, you guys drink fast,” yunho says, swishing his beer around to hear how much he has left. with a laugh he says, “wish i could just take this to go.”

“i won’t tell,” you whisper to him, grabbing him to join you. “walk with me?”

“okay,” yunho smiles, almost looking like he had stars in his eyes.

you two waltz out the door, leaving seonghwa at the bar cleaning alone. and with your eyes finally averted away, he can finally have no shame in watching you intently out the window. he is so fucked.

“here’s to yunho!” mingi hosts the cheers, with everyone raising their glasses, clinking them together and collectively taking a drink.

“guys,” yunho says with his face still contorted from the liquor. “thank you so much. you’ve all been so welcoming!”

“of course, you’re part of the fam now!” san smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders.

everyone takes their respective seats and mingle amongst each other, all while taking more shots and drinking more beer. you, of course, were sat with ryujin and wooyoung talking about the latest work drama.

“have you guys noticed something different about seonghwa lately?” wooyoung asks. “like when he broke that beer the other night? i swear, the whole year i’ve worked here i’ve never seen him break a thing.”

“dude, yes,” ryujin says, leaning in. “he fucked up a couple of my drink orders today. so weird.”

“he’s definitely been in a bad mood lately,” you mumble, holding back from telling your secret.

“yeah, more than usual,” ryujin rolls her eyes. “he probably just needs to get laid.”

you choke back a bit on your drink, taken off guard by the comment. you realize the problem is not that he needs to get laid, but that he did get laid. and now he’s being tortured by seeing the poor girl at work every day. why did he have to sleep with you when you know he feels nothing but disdain for you? are you just a toy to him? you begin to feel dizzy, partly from the alcohol, but also from the thoughts spinning in your head.

“you okay?” wooyoung asks you, handing you a water. you nod and take the drink from him, but his eyes are quickly diverted to the bar. “oh shit, seonghwa is here.”

“what?” ryujin tries her best to look subtly. “do you think our shit-talking manifested him?”

“i don’t know,” you huff, trying to figure out a way to avoid him. “but i’m gonna go sit on the patio.”

“there’s a patio?” yunho chimes in, hearing the last bit. “can i join?”

you smile and nod, leading him back. this will be a good distraction.

“so…” you start, leaning against the wooden patio covering. “how do you like it here? at the restaurant, i mean.”

“it’s definitely different,” yunho laughs. he leans on the covering next to you. “everyone is super nice, the food is good… and it’s nice to work for a local business. the management seems to really care about the employees.”

“definitely, hongjoong is great manager.” you nod to him.

“it’s actually crazy,” yunho starts. “i’ve never seen so many attractive people all working in one place before.”

“what, like ryujin? or wooyoung? or san?” you giggle, realizing he was right. you do have a LOT of hot coworkers.

“well, sure,” yunho says shyly. “but no, i meant you.”

“oh,” you say, caught off guard. you suddenly feel a lot more drunk. you look up at him momentarily, him leaning closer to you.

if someone else saw this body language from an outside perspective, they’d think that he looks like he wants to kiss you. and so what if he did? would it be the worst thing in the world to entertain this, even after your mess with seonghwa?

yunho leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, quick but sweet. when he pulls away, you’re left looking at him with an unreadable expression, but in your mind, you were reeling.

there was something… missing. and it irritated the fuck out of you. yunho did give you butterflies, but you wonder if it’s just because it feels nice to have attention on you. especially from someone that’s actually kind and seems like he actually wants to get to know you. but in your crazy toxic head, you realize what was missing. passion.

“i-i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have done that,” yunho says, touching his fingertips on his lips.

“no, no,” you say, grabbing his arm. “it’s okay.”

before yunho can get out a word, the back door shuts with seonghwa walking out, witnessing the scene. you can’t resist stepping back slightly from yunho, as if it’s not too late to be caught. he looks between you and seonghwa, adding two and two together just from the tension alone.

“i think i’m gonna head back inside,” yunho says, rubbing the back of his neck. “sorry, again.”

“yunho, wait,” you call after him, but he already shuts the door behind him.

“let him leave,” seonghwa commands, leaning against the wall.

“what are you even doing here, seonghwa?” you ask, already putting your guard up.

“the fuck are you doing with the new guy?” he says, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match. of course he’s one of those pretentious dudes that uses a fucking match to light a cig.

“since when do you smoke?” you say, desperately trying to change the subject.

“i don’t,” he says casually, blowing a cloud into the air. “just been stressed lately.”

“i can tell,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “it’s like you forgot how to bartend.”

“it’s not just work,” he says, brushing off the insult you threw at him. “it’s also you.”

“what about me?” you basically refuse, shaking your head. “i’ve been doing exactly what you want me to do. i don’t talk to you, i don’t look at you. i pretty much avoid you at all costs. you’re off the hook, seonghwa. you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

“who says that’s what i wanted?” seonghwa says, finally looking directly to you.

“you didn’t have to say it,” you spit at him, forcing him silent.

the air feels heavy. seonghwa struggles to find words for what he wanted to say. he looks down again, ashing his half-smoked cigarette. the back door opens to wooyoung and san following after him, both opting to sit in the patio chairs in the corner. they continue their conversation, and seonghwa looks to you.

“we should talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning to your coworkers. he’s already grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“why, so you can keep being an asshole to me without an audience?” you say.

“because i want to finish what we started,” he mumbles, walking out of the patio and to the back parking lot.

you try your best to resist, but curiosity overcame you as you follow.

after a short but tense drive, you arrive at what seems to be seonghwa’s apartment. he shuts the engine off and jumps out of his car. you slowly try to register what the hell is happening, unbuckling and hopping out. seonghwa doesn’t look back you, he just continues walking, knowing you’re trailing after him. he unlocks his front door, letting both of you in. he closes the door behind you, watching you examine your surroundings.

“this is exactly how i imagined your place,” you say, almost to yourself.

“you’ve been imagining my apartment?” he smirks.

“yeah,” you scoff. “it’s just as cold and rigid as you.”

“thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.

“so now what?” you say expectantly. “you bring me back here yell at me? make me cry?”

“there’s only one scenario i want of you crying,” he says, stepping closer to where he’s leaning over you. you suddenly feel stone-cold sober.

“and what’s that?” you say, tongue in your cheek, pretending not to know exactly what’s about to happen. and pretending you don’t want it so bad.

seonghwa grabs your cheek, beckoning your face closer to his. his eyes bore into yours, before landing down to your lips. not holding back anymore, he presses his lips onto yours with purpose. your lips meld into his, placing your hands on his chest. your kiss deepens in fervor, as if the hunger completely took over both of you. soon enough, you’re moving together towards his bedroom, clothes and inhibitions shedding along the way.

you fall back onto the bed with seonghwa standing over you. he takes off his belt while looking down at you with a look that can only be described as burning desire. once he discards his pants, he slowly runs his fingers across your panty-clad core. you’re embarrassed by how fucking wet you are already, slightly closing your legs around him.

“no no, princess,” he smirks down at you, licking his lips. “keep them open for me.”

you do as your told, letting him push your underwear to the side and feeling the wetness between your folds. he gathers some of your slick and brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring it.

“fuck,” he tilts his head up as he groans, unintentionally bucking his hips against the edge of the bed. “you taste so fucking good.”

with one hand gripping your thigh, the other hand dips back to your heat to slowly insert his middle finger in you. he lets you adjust momentarily before sliding in his ring finger, curling them both. he thrusts in and out, all while watching you squirm under his touch. he just watches in awe, mouth hanging open as he fixates on your pussy enveloping his digits, coating them with your essence. he releases the hand on your thigh to palm himself at the sight. he twitches in his underwear, precum soaking through at the tip.

as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he withdraws his fingers from inside you and rips your underwear, completely tearing the fabric to have more access to you. he tugs his bottoms down to release his aching cockhead, the tip leaking in a long drip onto you. he guides his member down the length of your core to gather your juices and stimulating your clit all the while.

with an elongated hiss, he enters you slowly. you’re taking every inch of him, pulsating around him. you moan with him as he starts rolling his hips into you. you can feel his head hitting every inch of your walls, the pressure making you moan in sweet agony. your sounds ring in his ears, savoring the whimpers you let out just for him. this quickens his pace, still driving into you with cadence.

he’s literally fucking you into the mattress, splitting you open with vigor. you find it impossible to keep from tightening around him in pleasure, and he loses a bit of his rhythm. he pulls out of you completely.

“you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he says between exasperated breaths. he holds his length above you, slapping it onto your core. he bites his lip to hold back a groan before grabbing your waist to switch positions.

he sits up on the bed and places you on top of him. he holds your waist as he guides you down onto his cock. he examines every inch of your face, reveling at the way it contorts at the feeling of him entering you. once you adjust to him again, you start moving. you ride him, throwing your head back. seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss and bite at the expanse of your neck. he moans as he begins thrusting upwards in tandem with you. he’s hitting all the right spots, and your bodies move together like a dance.

the moans you let out are uncontrollable, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. it feels like no one’s ever made you feel this way, feel this good. and maybe it’s true; maybe no one has ever awakened this primal, animalistic desire within you. it feels addictive, and you could not get enough. you pull him closer, yearning to feel every inch of his glistening body against yours, desperate for your forms to meld together in an all-encompassing embrace.

he crashes his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, a surge of passion pouring through and intensifying with every passing second. he reaches his hand down to toy with your clit, forcing you off his lips to let out a wanton moan. you core clenches around his length and a wave of stimulation transcends your body.

“cum with me, baby,” seonghwa lets out softly, continuing to thrust into you and toying with your clit.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, all while seonghwa’s eyes devour every inch of you, mesmerized by the sounds of your moans, the sweat trickling down your neck. each movement and touch sends shivers down his spine, solidifying his obsession with you. he wishes with every fiber of his being he could immortalize this sight in his mind forever. he is absolutely captivated by you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before resting his hand just below the side of your face.

his jaw goes slack when your core clenches erratically around him, drinking up this view as you completely come undone on his cock. he continues to piston into you until he follows immediately after, no longer holding back his moans of euphoria.

as your hips both begin to slow to a stop, seonghwa pulls you off of him, eyes still full of unrelenting lust.

“get on top of me,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face. “i want to taste myself in you.”

his hands grip your thighs as he guides your folds to his eager mouth. as soon as your core meets his tongue, a moan escapes his lips. his seed is still spilling out of you, and he licks up every drop with determination. your hips are still above him, hesitant to put your full weight on him.

“i need you sit on my face,” he says between licks. “i want you to fucking suffocate me.”

his hands on your thighs urge you down, letting you become fully seated on his mouth. he devours you, exploring every inch of you. you rock your hips against his tongue, each motion intensifying your pleasure. his hands encourage you to move faster, to take what you want from him. he separates from your core briefly to groan.

“baby, fuck my tongue,” he commands, attaching back onto you, granting you full access to his mouth.

you let his tongue slide into you and thrust onto it, all while his nose bumps at your clit. you feel the tension building in your stomach once again. the overstimulation sends you spiraling, hips continuing to grind onto his hungry tongue. you see his eyebrows knitting together in bliss, the vibrations of his insistent moans sending a pang throughout your body.

“seonghwa, p-please,” you beg, as if you weren’t the one on top of him, fucking his mouth. his dominance overtook you in every way, no matter what position. “i’m going to cum.”

he nods as if he’s saying, ‘yes, please cum on my face, please let me feel you,’ but is stifled by the grinding of your hips. he flattens his tongue so you can thrust your folds on him, and he’s smirking with lust behind his eyes. you let out a cry in pure bliss, your core contracting and spilling your essence onto his lips. he swallows every drop before latching his mouth back onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm. your movements slow down, and you let out a satisfied moan.

you fall off of him, positioning to rest your head on his chest. the waves of pleasure start to subside, and the only thing that can be heard in the silent air was the synchronization of your heartbeats. then reality hits you.

“seonghwa,” you say quietly. “what are we doing? why are we doing this?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. he struggles to find the right words. “i just… i don’t think i want this to stop.”

you lift your head up, almost thinking it’s a joke. but when you look into his eyes, you can tell he’s being genuine.

“but… but you hate me,” you say.

“i could never hate you,” he urges. he places his hand on your cheek, stroking softly.

you want so badly to believe him, to trust the softness in his eyes. but a voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is temporary, this isn’t real for him, and urges you to not fall for this trap. your mind plays over the past few weeks of turmoil between you. you recall every harsh word, every cold stare, and wonder if this moment of tenderness can truly outweigh all of that pain. is it worth risking your heart again?

“then i need you to explain yourself,” you say, pushing his hand away. “tell me why you’ve been like this with me.”

he sits up, taking a deep breath. “i’ve been so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head. “i think all these years of working at a restaurant kind of roughed me up. i think i built these walls to try and prove myself in the industry, to prove something to myself. and it made me become someone i don’t even like.”

he meets your gaze, seeing your anticipation for him to continue.

“and then i met you, and i still had these walls. i walked all over you and made you feel like shit. and what’s so fucked up about it is that despite that, i actually started to like you,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “i was scared. i’m still scared.”

you never expected him to be this vulnerable with you, let alone confess his feelings for you. you sit up and kiss him softly, intimately.

in that moment, the barriers between you begin to crumble. it’s not going to be easy, but for the first time, you find yourself on the same page.

“i don’t know what comes next,” you say softly. “but we can be scared together.”

a/n: guys i am so proud of this one! i hope i successfully portrayed the intensity between them. shit got my heart racing personally. again, im new to writing fics so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank u sooooo much ♡

edit: sadly there will be no part 3, but i will be releasing something new within the next week or so, so stay tuned 🫶🏻

✰taglist✰ @trinityhasjams @mxnsxngie @sooberryworld @mingtinysworld @spenceatiny18

#park seonghwa #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fic #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez one shot

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autumnmobile12 · 2 months

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Based on the way Touya and Fuyumi behaved in their very early years, I've always gotten the impression the Todoroki family started out with something of a healthy dynamic.

The reason they were born was pretty twisted and Endeavor's ambitions may have made the foundation rotten, but I think they were 'fine' until the genetic disparity with Touya's Quirk was detected. What's sad about that is if Touya didn't have that issue, he and Fuyumi would probably have been the only two siblings. Endeavor wanted Touya for a successor. Rei wanted Fuyumi so that Touya would have a sibling and they could support each other.

Natsuo and Shouto were born because Endeavor's ambitions meant more to him than his family.

And tragically, Touya and Fuyumi are the only two kids in that family who can remember this happy life. It's why Fuyumi was so desperate to get it back, and in his own warped way, Touya also tried to reclaim it.

Here's the thing that gets me, though:

It is very common and normal for a toddler to prefer one parent over the other. Usually, it's the parent they're the most family with: The one that stays home with and takes care of them.

Remember, to a toddler, everything is new and potentially scary, and that can often include a parent that is not always present: The parent that's working.

In the Todoroki house, Endeavor had his career as a hero, so we have the indication that Rei was the parent who stayed home. In that situation, the probability of Rei being the 'familiar parent' was more likely, so for Touya to prefer his father over his mother shows just how close he was to Endeavor. That probably happened because 1.) we can see Endeavor started training him at a very young age, and 2.) Fuyumi was the new baby and probably needed more attention from their mother, so Touya may have gravitated away from Rei on his own and went to his father instead.

Touya didn't see his father's ambitions for him. He didn't see that he was a successor as opposed to a son. What he, a child, saw and understood was that his father loved him and wanted to spend time with him. After the genetic disparity was detected and that pride and affection disappeared, he didn't know how to cope.

In contrast, Natsuo and Shouto never even saw the family happy. Natsuo was three-four years old when this happened. Fuyumi looks devastated that things aren't her version of normal. Natsuo just looks confused because, again, everything is new to toddlers. This was the normal he grew up with. Touya attacking Shouto might be one of his first memories, so he never stood a chance and that is why he left home the moment he had the opportunity.

It also explains his lack of understanding for Fuyumi's hope for a normal family. Fuyumi's mindset runs as, "We had that once. It's possible to have it again." Which in its own way, expecting things can just return to the way they were is a little disrespectful to her brother that died, and I think Touya's reappearance did shatter her illusion since she never brings up 'being a real family' after Dabi's Dance.

The point is, since Natsuo never saw what Fuyumi and Touya saw, he can't see what she wants to return to, so her decision to forgive their father is one he can't comprehend.

And if Natsuo can't remember the happy family, then there's no way Shouto does because this is what their home looked like by the time he was old enough to start forming concrete memories.

We're looking at two different sets of children, the older pair and the younger pair, who started out with very different childhoods.

#my hero academia #fuyumi todoroki #touya todoroki #dabi #todoroki family #natsuo todoroki #shouto todoroki #rei todoroki #endeavor #enji todoroki #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #character analysis #this started off as short blip #wasn't expecting to write a brief analysis tonight

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freelancearsonist · 6 months

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make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.”

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this.

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in.

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

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hannieehaee · 4 months

Text

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, oral (f receiving), mentions of blowjob, etc.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

wc: 1709

a/n: the comeback of loser!jk<3

masterlist

"we should- mhph!," he gasped when you interrupted him with yet another kiss, attempting to speak again when your lips barely disconnected, "we should stu-" unfortunately for him, your lips did not stray too far.

you had no interest in holding any type of conversation right now. not when the pretty nerd was alone in your room for the third time this week.

surprisingly, despite your lack of ability to pay attention while jungkook was over at your place, your grades had still gone up. on the down side, this small improvement proved to be enough for your horny brain to make the executive decision that it'd be a waste to spend any more time studying when you could be playing with your pretty boy toy instead.

jungkook never had any complaints. even on the days you did study, you'd bid him goodbye by sitting on his cock and kissing up and down the length of his neck. he always left quite satisfied, though also dizzy with desire.

the sudden addiction you had with the boy couldn't have been helped. it was impossible for you to understand how he didnt have all the girls on campus trailing after him. he was clearly handsome, just incredibly shy. his shyness was so severe, he had trouble holding eye contact with anyone who spoke to him, only ever responding in incomprehensible stammers of nonsensical sentences.

you were more than fine to work with this. you knew it'd only take a while for him to warm up to you, and you were happy to patiently wait. the two of you sometimes conversed, getting to know each other past the math and the sex. he had already warmed up to you quite a bit, able to push his shyness aside for you. you'd break all that down any time you removed your shirt and propositioned yourself to him, but that was just to be expected.

as of now, your midterms were over and you felt no need to study for regular assignments despite jungkook's insistence. this meant you had all the time in the world to rearrange your tutoring sessions to fuck him instead. even as he attempted to form a single sentence, your tongue would find its way to his mouth, interrupting any thought that might break you away from his touch.

"i ... we're supposed to study at least a bit," he reminded you with a breathless tone as your lips went to his neck.

"don't wanna, baby. wanna fuck you instead. don't you want that too?", you whispered when you made your way to his ear, nibbling at it suggestively.

nodding feverishly, his eyes began fluttering shut, hands lamely digging into your hips like they usually did, "if- if you're sure."

you chuckled at his statement. you never had any second thoughts about fucking jungkook. he was a pretty nerd and former virgin whom you had the power to mold into the perfect boy for you. how could you ever pass out such an opportunity?

"i'm sure, pretty," you reassured as your hands went to pull up his shirt, yours joining soon after.

now sitting on his lap, top halves nude, you got up before his eyes could zero in on your breasts, throwing off your pants and helping him out of his own. unlike other times, you did not sit back down on his lap, instead opting to sit on the bed next to him, letting yourself fall back as your legs hung off the side of the bed.

looking up at him, you gestured at him to get off the bed with a quick flick of your eyes. the way he quickly understood and went to kneel between your legs made you chuckle. he was such a smart boy.

to this day, the pretty boy had never eaten you out. the extent of your sexual relationship only went as far as penetrative sex thus far. no oral had been involved for some reason – likely due to your need to jump him every time you saw him.

what you wanted most today was to claim your high on his tongue. you needed the pretty boy between your legs, struggling to lick into your cunt and fumbling to find your clit. you knew that with some guidance you'd easily get his skills at oral perfectly tailored to your tastes. that was the nicest part of having a pretty and untouched boy such as jungkook – you could teach him everything just the way you liked it.

staring up at you with his gigantic doe eyes, his brows furrowed in worry, likely unsure of what to do next whilst simultaneously intimidated by such a suggestive position. your fingers went to his chin, lifting up his face whilst yours lowered to almost meet in a kiss. a pretty whine was felt against your lips when you moved away just before your lips could connect.

"pretty?"

"yes?", a gulp accompanied his inquiry.

"will you be good and lick me?"

a groan left his lips before he began nodding dumbly, practically whining as he confirmed his enthusiasm.

"please ...", he whimpered when you created a larger gap between you, grabbing onto his hair and pushing his face into your bare cunt.

opening your legs wider, you led the pretty boy almost all the way to your pussy, stopping right before letting his lips touch your own.

"tongue out, baby," you instructed.

wordlessly, he followed your instructions as his hands went up to your thighs for support. he gave you a decided nod before leaning in and shyly licking into your cunt. groaning against you, he licked experimentally once, twice, thrice – enough times for his resolve to break and for his shyness to be replaced by want.

your hands continued to guide him by his hair, grinding into his mouth in sync with the movement of his lips. it was easy to fall into a trance while the desperate boy ate at you. it was as if he'd had prior practice, except you knew that wasn't the case. jungkook was clearly just letting his hunger take over, leading to an ethereal feeling you knew only jungkook could give you.

"kookie ... oh, fuck," you cried out, fingers digging harshly into his hair.

he reacted accordingly, groaning at both your voice and the feeling of his hair getting pulled at. his hips were also uncontrollable as they ground into the side of the bed, pathetically humping in hopes of some stimulation.

as he ate at you with an unprecedented desperation, he let out the prettiest whimpers and pleas against your cunt, leaving you lightheaded at how needy he was for you.

"it's so good ... fuck, so good. thank you- thank you, oh, fuck ...."

"tastes so fucking good, oh god ...."

"it's for me? fuck, tell me it's mine. t-tell me it's all for me, please ..."

"oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you ..."

encouraging him, you claimed him as yours, telling him how good he was and how you'd give him anything he wanted. he cried even more at this, continuing to thank you for granting him access to your cunt. you knew he meant this in both a sexual and emotional way, which only made you feel even dizzier.

a few minutes into jungkook sloppily making out with your cunt, you pulled him away a bit (despite his resistance), making him look up at you.

under you, you found foggy glasses, messy hair, and half his face covered in your wetness. and even with all that, he looked like the prettiest thing you'd ever had between your legs. he whined the moment you separated him, attempting to reconnect his lips with your cunt, but you remained stubborn.

"baby, you're doing so good for me," you wiped a bit at his lips, though he misinterpreted your intentions, instead taking your fingers into his mouth and suckling.

he was a natural at being a needy mess.

"need you to play with my clit, though, pretty. c'mere, like this. let me show you ..."

with your fingers, you showed him where he'd find your clit, instructing him to stick out his tongue for you again and kitten-lick at it. he went the extra mile and began suckling at it after just a few moments, making your eyes roll back and your toes curl.

going back and forth between licking at you and suckling at your clit, his intensity only increased the more you cried out for him, beginning to hump against his face with zero finesse. the squeaks of the bed could be heard as he himself bumped his cock against it, whimpering into your cunt out of neediness.

"g-gonna make me cum, kookie ... oh, fuck, i- i'm gonna cum, pretty. eat it f-for me? p-please?"

you hadn't planned on becoming so needy for him, but you also hadn't planned for him to be such a quick learner. he simply nodded into your cunt, speeding up his movements as he grumbled against your lips, clearly growing desperate to make you reach your high.

this was easily one of the most intense, neediest orgasms you'd ever had. your voice reached a pitch it never had before as you shamelessly used jungkook's face to get off. at some point his nose began nudging against your clit, almost causing you to black out in pleasure. by the end of it you had been singlehandedly doing all the work whilst jungkook let you guide his face however you wanted.

"fuck ... kookie," you breathed once your high subsided, "c'mere, baby."

climbing up the bed, he hovered over you, shy in initiating a kiss but putting his all into it the moment he realized how into it you were, suckling your juices out of his tongue and moaning into his mouth.

"was ... was it good?", he murmured into your neck once your lips had disconnected.

"it was so good, baby. you're such a quick learner," you caressed his back reassuringly, ignoring the hardness poking against you for a moment.

"want me to try it on you?" you asked, chuckling when he suddenly stilled.

"o-oh ... you want to?"

"lay on the bed, kookie. let me show how good it feels," you grinned at him, knowing you were about to blow his mind yet again.

#bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut

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seresinhangmanjake · 5 months

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The Harkonnen's Claim

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: Your brother, Paul, took you from Feyd in a vulnerable moment, and if he wants the woman he loves back, he will have to give your brother something in return.

Notes/Warnings: this is part 2 of 2. Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Mention of pregnancy (present) and miscarriage (past). Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Smutty-ish (18+) and fluffy stuff, tidbit of angst. I'm sure there are spelling mistakes. I read it twenty times, but you know how it is. I think that’s it.

Words: 3300

Feyd Masterlist Part 1

You can’t see him—your eyelids are too heavy—but he’s shouting. Cursing. With each of his grunts glass shatters and metal clangs against the walls. Feminine voices are shrieking in sync with the rageful sounds coming from your lover and his actions. He is scaring them. He shouldn’t be scaring them. It isn’t their fault.

“Get out!” he yells.

More shrieks. Multiple pairs of feet rapidly shuffle about. The door slams and then Feyd is sitting beside you on the bed, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead, the other rubbing up and down your forearm and pulling it onto his lap.

“My love…” he says, “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You swallow hard and peel open your eyelids to see his face hovering above you. A sigh leaves his lips when his eyes connect with yours.

“They were only here to help,” you mutter.

Feyd bites down hard, sharpening the line of his jaw. He has much to say, you know, but he struggles to release his frustration in any manner other than shouting or fighting in the arena. Right now, he can’t do either.

“They did nothing to help,” he softly snaps.

But he’s wrong. The women he brought in to examine you did exactly as they were told. It’s just that their conclusion upon taking a look at you was not what he, nor you, expected to hear.

“Considering the excessive bleeding, she seems to have—” the woman paused; you could hear the tremble in her voice “—lost the baby, my Na-Baron. I’m very sorry.”

Neither of you has spoken about heirs or lineage or combining the genetics of Great Houses. You hadn’t even known of your pregnancy until you heard them tell Feyd that you are no longer carrying the child, and yet, you feel a tremendous loss. You instantly wonder what that child would have been. A boy? A girl? Would they have been a warrior like their father? Or more level-headed like their mother? Maybe a combination of both—that would probably be best for everyone.

“We’ll try again when you feel better,” Feyd tells you, leaning down and pressing his forehead into yours.

Slowly closing your eyes, you reach a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, your thumb caressing between his ear and the curve of his jaw. “Feyd, we weren’t trying to begin with.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t?” he asks. “You are meant to be the mother of my heir.”

You sigh. “Feyd–”

“You are,” he demands, but you can detect his hidden plea. “You will be.”

—

They are scared of him—your son—or, at least, she is.

With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear them in the halls. Mother and son arguing over your value.

“Get rid of them, Paul, while you still can,” Lady Jessica implores him. “It’s in our best interest. You have no idea the kind of man she will raise that baby to be.”

But Paul has embraced his new role. There’s no hesitation in how he speaks to her anymore. His words are firm, but well-chosen. He truly was born to be a leader, just not the leader the Universe agreed on.

“The boy will one day be the Baron, and by then, he will have grown stronger than most, his father included,” Paul confirms. “But we only benefit from having that on our side. From Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s need for my sister, an alliance will be formed that could last decades, maybe centuries. But if you harm her, he will come at us in a way his House never has before. And if he finds out you also took his child from him then he’ll spend the rest of his life hunting you, me, Alia…Chani…your future grandchildren—he won’t stop.”

Paul sighs. You can picture him running his hand through his curly locks. He’s done that ever since he was a child. From the moment his little hand could reach above his head, his fingers would be playing with that hair. His mother scolded him wherever he did it in front of the other families of great Houses. ‘Makes you appear anxious,’ she would say, and no son of hers was permitted to come off as anything but respectable in front of their equals. She knew of the man he would one day become. But her nagging didn’t help him in the end.

“Paul, listen to m–”

“QUIET,” he commands in the Voice that seems to ripple through the halls. “You act as if I won that duel without effort. As if I could do it again in my sleep. But not only did he survive what should have killed him, he almost killed me,” he reminds her. “So do not let your hatred for my sister lead us down a vulnerable path.”

You pull your ear away from the door. How strange that you always knew she hated you and yet never heard it from anyone’s lips until now. You can’t say it hurts, but it does affirm that the only thing keeping you alive is the one thing you didn’t want to be: Feyd’s weakness. He’s saving you even though you’re out of reach. You and the baby he put inside of you.

You run your hand over your clothed stomach. There’s no physical evidence of your pregnancy, but now that you know he’s there you can feel him…somehow. You feel his strength. You feel his grit. You feel what Lady Jessica fears, and you love it. You hope she lives in fear for many years, always keeping one eye on the half-Harkonnen child that her son commanded her to spare.

The doorknob twists and you quickly back away as Paul steps into your bedroom. His brows pinch when he sees how you’re standing in the middle of the room. You’re not resting, you’re not admiring the scenery outside your window, there’s no book in your hand—you look suspicious. You can practically hear his thoughts. What were you doing, sister?

“It’s time to go,” he tells you, stepping closer. You don’t have a chance to reply before the command “SLEEP” weaves into your brain. Your eyes close. Your body goes limp into your brother’s arms. Your mind shuts down. You’re gone.

—

It’s bright. The inside of your eyelids are glowing the same orange shade as the flower your father traditionally gifted you on your birthday. It’s brighter than Caladan and Arrakis. A brightness you know only comes from Giedi Prime’s midday sun.

You're moving but not by your own feet. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to your surroundings, and when they open, you find yourself tucked against a chest. An Atreides soldier, once your father’s, now sworn to serve your brother.

“Put me down,” you mumble, but he doesn’t. “Put me down!”

“Put her down if she wants to be put down,” Paul says. “She won’t go anywhere. This is exactly where she wants to be.”

You’re set on your feet, but the soldier’s hand wraps around your bicep as the group comes to a halt. You do a quick glance around. Sixteen soldiers, suitably armed and shields activated. More on the ship likely, ready to attack if necessary. One Bene Gesserit bitch. One intended emperor with the skin of your brother. And you, anxiously awaiting him.

“Atreides!”

Feyd steps out of the Harkonnen fortress alone. He walks down the lengthy walkway alone. He has a blade at his hip, a shield, but no soldiers. You know they are somewhere, though, hiding, waiting for his call if needed.

As the distance between you lessens, tears attempt to blur your vision, but you blink them away. Your legs quiver, and you would collapse to your knees if not for the vice grip on your arm. He’s alive. He’s so beautifully alive. He’s broad, and strong, and he’s stomping toward your brother like a predator honing in on its prey. You didn't know for sure what he would look like after near death, and the last two weeks gave your mind the will to run wild, but he's perfect. Like it never happened.

“Paul, you must reconsider,” Lady Jessica whispers from behind him. “We do not need him.”

“I decide who and what we need,” he says. “My sister, my negotiations.”

She tips her head and steps back into place before shooting you a glare that you refuse to acknowledge.

Feyd is closing in, but his next step is deemed too close for Paul. Weapons are drawn. A blade presses into your neck. Feyd pauses.

“Give me what's mine, Atreides!” he snaps.

He’s seething and makes no attempt to hide it as he paces along the invisible line your brother has drawn. His brow is low, a shadow over the blue eyes piercing through Paul’s head. He hasn’t looked at you, but you know he won’t. Not directly. He already knows what your brother has over him and there’s no need to remind him by giving in to the internal panic he’s fighting.

“Yours?” Paul returns. “She’s not yours yet, Harkonnen, so it would be wise of you to cooperate.”

Feyd practically growls, pale lips splitting to reveal black teeth as Paul gestures for you to stand beside him. The soldier shoves you forward and you turn to smack at his wrist.

“I know how to walk,” you grumble. “Bastard.”

Paul clasps his hands behind his back. “You want her; that is understandable. She wants to be with you, too. You should have seen how she fell apart when she thought you were dead,” your brother taunts. His tongue clicks to make a tsking sound.

Feyd’s fingers twitch at his side, itching to grab the hilt of his knife. You know a layer of red bleeds across his vision. His thoughts are a jumble of demands bouncing around his skull. Kill. Maim. Destroy. Take what’s yours. But he can’t. And, excluding his uncle, Feyd hasn’t ever faced a situation where he can’t do as he pleases with whatever stands in front of him.

“Do not push him too far, Paul,” you mutter in warning. “He's not alone, either.”

Your brother ignores you, voice raising as he says, “And your son? You would like to have him as well, yes?”

The pacing stops. Feyd’s lips softly part. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he finally looks at you. When you lightly nod, his jaw clenches.

Paul doesn’t miss the silent communication. “So,” he says, lifting his chin a half-inch, “are we calm now?”

Feyd inhales a deep breath and huffs it out through his nose. He does it again and again, chest puffing out then deflating like an animal desperate to strike. ‘Calm’ isn't exactly how you would describe him—good, you expect nothing less—but he’s not displaying the same heightened level of fury.

“What do you want, Atreides?” Feyd grunts.

“Loyalty,” Paul doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You are my cousin. You love my half-sister and the two of you will share a child, assuming you can behave yourself. Family should inherently be loyal to family, I believe. That’s a fair place to start.”

“To start?” Feyd spits. “Do not play with me, cousin. Tell me all that you want from me now.”

Paul’s lips curve in a slight smile. The same modest smile he used when greeting guests of your father’s. You have your own version of that smile. They are smiles capable of hiding secrets. Like the smiles you would give Lady Jessica in front of your father, and the smile Paul gave Princess Irulan when he formally claimed her hand days after the duel.

However, there are no secrets behind the smile this time. He knows exactly what he wants from your lover and takes pleasure in revealing the totality of it.

“This war is just beginning,” Paul tells Feyd. “The other Houses reject my leadership. You will not. You will make a public declaration that the Harkonnens will fight for me, alongside the Fremen,” he says. “If you refuse to fulfill this, I will return with every fighter I have. My sister will be our primary target and you will fail to protect her…again.”

The disrespect lingers in the air. To force a Harkonnen to kneel to an Atreides is a power Feyd once told you only you possess. But it appears Paul has forced an unexpected exception.

“There's nothing for you to debate, I imagine,” Paul says. “Not when it comes to the woman you love and your child.”

Paul gives a winning smirk at your lover’s silence—Feyd’s glare is answer enough.

With a hand firmly on the center of your back, your brother guides you forward. “Go on,” he instructs. “There's no reason to keep him waiting.”

You turn your head back to Paul, expecting a trick, but when he nods in encouragement you rush over to Feyd in a light jog so as not to get tangled up in the skirts you can’t wait to tear off your body. A pale hand reaches out for you and curls around your waist when you’re close enough to be pulled against his chest. A kiss lands on your hairline before his forehead falls to rest on yours.

“You're not hurt?” he asks.

“I'm fine,” you promise him.

“This will never have to become complex, Harkonnen,” Paul calls from his side. Your heads raise to look at him. “Your House now fights for mine. If loyalty is upheld, personal lines will not be crossed. In other words, your child and woman are safe from me as long as my empress, concubine, and children are safe from you.”

Feyd’s Adam’s apple bobs harshly with his hard swallow; another practice in tamping down his rage.

“I’m glad we can all walk away from this satisfied,” Paul continues, grinning ear to ear. “Except for my mother, of course. Were she given her way, my sister would be cut open on the floor and her womb ripped out of her. She doesn’t believe a Harkonnen can exercise restraint and respect agreements. I’m sure you’ll prove her wrong.”

Your dress tightens at your waist from Feyd’s fingers fisting into the material. “Keep your head,” you gently whisper. “Let him go.”

“You have three days to officially announce your allegiance,” Paul tells the two of you before turning to his ship. He enters first, followed by his mother who gives you a final look of disapproval, and then, two-by-two, his soldiers. Not until they’re a speck in the sky does Feyd place a hand on your cheek, guide your face to his, and seal his lips to yours.

—

He intends to burn the dress to ash in the built-in incinerator that the Harkonnens consider a fireplace. Before now, you haven’t seen it demonstrate its purpose. Feyd refused. “We do not need that,” he would tell you, somewhat offended when you would request a bit more warmth in the middle of the night while he was next to you. He’d strip himself of any clothing he might’ve been wearing and tuck you into his side. “See? You’re fine now.”

Tonight, however, he’s quick to turn the thing on and let it heat up as he takes his knife to the back of your gown, slicing through the buttons that trace along your spine until the material slips off your body. He helps you out of the ring of destroyed fabric at your feet before wadding it into a ball and tossing it into the flames.

Feyd hums, satisfied, then piece by piece the armor falls from his form until he’s bare with his body to yours, his lips sucking and nibbling, fingers kneading and exploring, cock easing in and out of your core. You cry as he bites into your neck, and soak in the moment for what it is compared to what it could have been had he not survived. How alone you would be. How distraught over what would become of you.

But he did survive. He’s here. You have him. His lips and teeth and touch and cock and heart—all yours. You have the warmth of his breath that brushes your face and neck and shoulders. You have his groans and moans; the perfect sounds he makes when he first enters you and when he cums. Everything you thought you’d lost is wrapped tightly in your arms. Safe. Protected.

He finishes inside of you twice, and as he begs for one more, the ache between your thighs tempts you to remind him he already got you pregnant. But when you study the tenderness in his eyes, your desire refreshes, the pain washes away, and you can’t get enough. You take until he can no longer give—when all he has the energy for is holding and kissing.

Feyd leans over you in the bed, your legs intertwined under the sheets and his hand at the back of your head as his mouth moves with yours.

“W-Wait,” you say between kisses. He hums against your lips and when you tilt your head back, he makes a noise of protest before joining them again. “I-I’m ser-ious.”

With his brow pinched, he pulls back to stare into your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you search for a delicate way to question the effectiveness of his new authority. “Feyd, what’s going to happen? What will everyone think?” you ask. “Your people? Your soldiers?”

“That’s what bothers you right now while in this bed with me?” You nod. He sighs. “I observed my uncle in his time as Baron. I’m capable of explaining these changes in a manner that will have them think nothing of it. Should an outlier take issue, they will face the known consequences. The rest will do as I command,” he says, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “Just as they will do as you command and as our son will one day command.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be silly. No one on Giedi Prime will listen to me,” you tell him. “My voice doesn’t mean anything to them.”

“They'll respect the voice of their Baroness.”

Your brows raise. “Your wife?”

Feyd smirks and dips his head into the curve of your neck to lick and suck at sensitive skin. “Do you have objections, my love?”

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined being Feyd’s wife. It didn’t occupy your every thought, but it crossed your mind. Like when he would pluck out the eyes of the men who leered at you or remove the tongues of those who scoffed when you spoke. Or when you would watch him sleep and his face was unable to maintain the hard, stony stare that he brought back with him after dealing with his uncle. He’d be serene, the epitome of peace, and it was so lovely that sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You would kiss his puffy lips until he woke to reciprocate, which led to him spreading your legs wide and stuffing his hard column of flesh between your folds. His ability to be gentle in his cruel world was how you knew he would be a good husband—to you, anyway. You have no idea the fate of his marriage were there a different bride.

His tongue runs over the bite mark and you gasp. “N-No.”

Lips trail along your jawline as his hand slides from the base of your neck between the valley of your breasts to settle on your stomach.

“He'll be strong,” Feyd says, looking at you. “Our boy.”

You chuckle. “Stronger than you, I heard.”

Feyd swallows, then nods in acceptance. “Good. He’ll need to be,” he says, thumb stroking just above your navel. “The only Atreides my son will answer to is his mother.”

A/N: i'd be open to doing future fics for them if anyone is interested. you can send in requests if you want, no pressure. I have a different feyd fic in the works atm as well

@unicoreads @haehwasworld @moonsoulk @lothiriel9 @landlockedmermaid77 @vintageroses10 @mamawiggers1980 @mrsjobarnes @aoi-targaryen @buckysteveloki-me @pao-prazz @skel-skell @barnes70stark @pekusofixus @vanilla88 @niragiswhore @benwishaw

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #feyd x reader #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune movie

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explicit-tae · 11 months

Text

Ungodly Hour: Day 1

You and Jungkook are together for the whole weekend. All he truly wanted from you was to admit you were his girl - but like always, he had to fuck it out of you. @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.675

warning: dirty talk, nipple sucking, slight kissing, neck biting, edging, face-slapping, cocky/jealous/possessive/dominant jungkook, bitchy/shit-talking but submissive reader, creampie, crying, begging,

“You cooked this?” your mother is first to ask once she bites into the meat, eyes growing slightly wide. “It tastes amazing.”

Jungkook gives a toothy grin and nods. “I added a secret sauce that my father has taught me.”

You want to roll your eyes at Jungkook.

Dinner was going by smoothly. Around 20 minutes ago, your parents arrived. Your father appeared much the same, nonchalant and just ready to eat. Your mother did most of the talking. Her eyes roamed the apartment with prying eyes. She asked Jungkook and you questions after questions, all of which Jungkook responded to quickly and without hesitation.

“How did you two really meet?” your mother asks after a moment. “I assume it couldn’t have been tweeter.”

You scoff. “No. It was not twitter.”

Jungkook places a hand atop yours and laughs. He wraps his fingers into your own and eyes you. He then brings your hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss. “We met at the University.” Jungkook nods. “She was so cold to me at first.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Typical of her.”

“I must’ve asked her out a million times. I was shut down each and every time. Right, baby?”

You want to snatch that smirk off of his lips, but you only roll your eyes.

“I think she got tired of my begging and agreed to a date.” Jungkook turns to your mother. “Ever since then, I’ve been attached to her like a lost puppy.”

Your father listens, not interested in speaking, but interested enough to appear apart of the conversation. “I’m glad.” your mother speaks. She takes a sip of her water. “Y/N can be a little mean.”

You knit your brows, but before you can speak Jungkook cackles. “She can!” he agrees.

Oh wow, you think.

“But that’s what I love about her. She’s feisty and stubborn.” Jungkook looks your way, his eyes burning into you. You glance away from them and grunt, feeling hot. “And she always speaks up for me at restaurants when they get my order wrong.”

“That was once.” you quip. “You asked for extra sauce…”

“I did.” Jungkook nods. “I thought she was going to rip someone’s head off.” he tells your mother jokingly. “At least I know she cares.”

Jungkook was right - he had won over your mother.

That was expected, however. Your mother was easy to please. Jungkook was the equivalent of tall, dark and handsome. He’s easy to speak with and was such a smooth talker that it even had her swooning. He was affectionate, often kissing your hand or your head - more than usual, but you told yourself he was milking this to the very end.

Now, your father was a different story. He was able to engage the man into conversation and actually hold it, having your fathers full and undivided attention. That is when you realized that Jungkook meant what he said - that even if this fake dating didn’t end with the both of you actually dating, that Jungkook would be there regardless. Your mother was already inviting him to dinner the following week and even hugged him before leaving - before she hugged you.

“I’ll see you two next week?” your mother asks as she’s strolling out the door.

Jungkook wraps you in a tight embrace, his head resting on your shoulder. “You will!” he responds to her, waving curtly. “Y/N tells me about your cooking all the time. I can’t wait!”

You grumble - it was all the time, but you weren’t aware Jungkook was actually listening to your random ramblings. He was slowly winning your mother over that you were sure she would have him for dinner even without you there.

“You think you’re cute?” you push Jungkook off of you once the door is shut.

“Is that the thanks I get for making a good impression?”

You cross your arms. “You know what you were doing complimenting her the entire night.”

Jungkook smirks. “Like mother, like daughter. You both like my praises.” Jungkook’s hands are on you again, bringing you closer to him. “I have to keep myself on top if I’m going to be competing against these boyfriends.”

Your hands are against his chest to push him away. “Ugh, take me home.”

“You aren’t staying the weekend?” Jungkook pouts his lips slightly. “We have to finish binge watching Law & Order.”

“You’re right.” you sigh for a moment. “And here I thought I had a chance to get rid of you.”

“You never can.” Jungkook’s right hand slaps your ass. You yelp, but it was only a gesture to bring you closer to him. He pecks your lips. “Let’s get going. We have the entire weekend ahead of us.”

The night shouldn’t have ended like this. You told yourself that you and Jungkook wouldn’t be entangled together - especially since you were watching Law & Order - there was no way Jungkook could ignore such an amazing series to get his cock wet.

But Jungkook had.

It started with light touching. Jungkook’s bed is soft and it’s easy to be comfortable. He had gave you a shirt to wear - even if you had a weekend's worth of clothes - he insisted it would be best. You were certain he just wanted you in his shirt to appear more domesticated.

Your first mistake was not wearing anything but the shirt and panties. Jungkook’s hands wandered upon your skin, his body dangerously close to yours. His hips would rut against your ass, prying hand going beneath the oversized shirt. “Just one kiss, Y/N. Don’t be like that.” was what he said - and you caved.

Of course it could never be one kiss. One peck led to him begging for more - and more. It led to him flipping you to face him, his hand squeezing the flesh of your ass to bring you closer to him. It continued with you being on top of him, tongues fighting against one another. His hands stayed upon your ass, rubbing gently as you and he kissed.

“We’re missing the show.” you protest, breaking free of the heated kiss.

“We can always go back.” Jungkook eyes you with hooded eyes. “You look so pretty in my shirt.” he murmurs.

“Shut up, simp.” you roll your eyes jokingly.

“I can never compliment my girl without getting called a simp.” Jungkook tsks. His hands rub up your rib back down to your waist to your thighs. “It’s true, though. I wanna wake up with you like this every day.”

“I would have to actually be your girl for that to happen.” you retort. You gently grind against him, lips flashing him a mischievous grin.

“You are my girl.” Jungkook hisses low, hands squeezing your hips to keep you firmly against him. “I got you in my shirt, don’t I?”

Jungkook and his logical comebacks. Damn him.

“I got you to stay with me this weekend, right?” Jungkook continues, his tongue coating his lips with moisture.

“So?”

Jungkook manages to lift himself up without disrupting you. You and he are face to face now, your thighs caging him in between you.

“So that makes you my girl.” Jungkook pecks your lips. “I know you like being called my girl, Y/N. Each time I say it you grind against me a little harder.”

Truly, fuck Jeon Jungkook because damn was he right.

“Exactly.” Jungkook murmurs, and for a second you believe he’s going to say something else - a comment that would indicate just how “down bad” you were for him. But no, Jungkook continues to stare at you.

You shift in his lap and with that, Jungkook blinks. “You’re really pretty.”

You frown, knitting your brows together in an attempt to be annoyed - even if your heart did jolt.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook continues, his arms embracing you. “Far too stubborn to admit.”

“Is this how you ask out all your girls?” you snort, but feel yourself melting in his warm embrace. “Just demand for them to be with you?”

“There you go, Y/N.” Jungkook chuckles. “You go in that head of yours and start being delusional and fantasize me being with other girls.”

“Excuse me?” Delusional?

“Why are you adamant on me having multiple girls?” Jungkook gently kisses your forehead just because he knows it annoys you - his random acts of affection or kindness in a situation that is deemed “serious”.

You shrug your shoulders. “You fit the fuck boy aesthetic.” was all you say.

Jungkook snorts. “You think I have girls lining up to suck my dick in exchange for streaming services?”

You gasp. “We said we wouldn’t bring that up!” you hiss.

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry.” Jungkook smiles. “I just don’t see how you think I’m a fuck boy even now. I barked in order to meet your parents. I’m still getting laughed at in the groupchat.”

You suppress your own laughter, only giving Jungkook a grin.

“I basically fund your whole lifestyle. I think that’s far beyond a fuck boy.” Jungkook adds - but not in a way to throw it in your face or to appear as though you need him to.

“A sugar daddy at best.” you shrug, but even you can’t help but laugh at the bewildered look on Jungkook’s face. “You do know you aren’t obligated to buy me things.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes - it was the same song and dance as before. He’d get you something he heard you speak about once a few days prior - you would insist it wasn’t a need, but the sparkle in your eyes was enough for him to keep doing it.

“As my girl…” Jungkook places a kiss at the nape of your neck. “...it’s required of me to.”

“Until you get bored and throw me to the side.” you feel Jungkook’s teeth bite down on your neck.

“You do everything but admit you like me, baby.” Jungkook presses you firmly against him. “I’m beginning to think that’s what you want me to do so you can remain in denial.”

Jungkook’s hands go beneath the large shirt of his you wore. Your skin is so soft and smooth - the both of you shudder.

“You’re okay.” you murmur, biting your lip when you feel both of his hands engulf your breasts.

“Just okay?” Jungkook’s tongue twirls on the spot he bit. “I can have you on your back begging for me in seconds, baby. Nothing about me is ‘just okay’.”

Your play hard to get was not going to last - especially not now. The cocky Jungkook was creeping in, and he knew that your words were nothing but bluffs.

“I’m sure I would be the same way with someone else.”

You couldn’t help it. It was a game for you at times to rile up Jungkook. He was the jealousy and competitive type - he had to prove that he was the best at any and everything he did.

“You want me to fuck you so bad.” Jungkook chuckles, but you can hear the slight irritation in his voice - deep and raspy; ready to prove you wrong. You shudder slightly as goosebumps ride across your skin.

You really did. You were already wet enough, his hands and mouth adding to it. There was nothing like Jungkook fucking your petty words right out of you.

“You do this every time, Y/N.” Jungkook bites your neck harshly and you yelp, squirming. “You love messing with me. It must turn you on seeing me fuck the submission into you.”

You swallow thickly to suppress a moan. “I just give you what you want.” you shrug slightly.

“What do I want?”

“Someone to moan for you no matter if it feels good or not.”

You were playing a dangerous game with Jungkook, but it just brings nothing but excitement through you.

You yelp once more when you feel your hair being yanked. “You’re being a bitch again, baby.” Jungkook murmurs, but even he is amused by your attempts. You can never just tell him that you want him - never tell him that you want him to dominate. Instead, you deny or insinuate the opposite just to give him a reason to prove you wrong.

But Jungkook said it once before, he loved your ‘play hard to get’ game you played with him; when he had you it was much more satisfying.

“Isn’t that what you like about me?” you tease, and even in the dim room - law and order playing ignored in the background - you are beautiful to him, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Love it.” Jungkook presses his lips firmly onto yours, his tongue sliding past your mouth. It’s quick and he’s rough, but you cannot protest. His hands are gripping your flesh so hard that you feel as though they’d leave a mark.

Jungkook yanks the shirt off of you, tongue instantly finding both of your breasts. Your legs are wrapped around him, his clothed cock pressing firmly against you.

“Why can’t you be normal?” Jungkook’s lips pops from your nipples, his tongue licking it furiously. “A normal girl would just tell me she wants me to be a little rough and not provoke it out of me.”

Jungkook grips both of your breasts into the palm of his hands and brings both of your nipples into his mouth.Your back arches at the warm sensation pooling through you.

“I-I have to tell you how to fuck like a man?”

There was a new sensation when the words left your mouth and hit Jungkook’s ears. It’s a sensation that shoots straight to your core and leaves your cheek stinging.

The room is silent, Jungkook’s eyes wide watching your reaction for a moment. He’s ready to apologize for not thinking before he slaps you, but it’s your moan that draws him back to reality.

“You liked that?” Jungkook murmurs and you nod, biting your lip. Jungkook grunts, his mind wandering just how far you’d let him go.

Jungkook unwraps your legs from around him and removes himself from the bed. He drags you to the edge of it, you yelping at the sudden movement. Jungkook removes your panties and widens your legs. He’s cocky - through the flashing television light, he see’s how wet you are for him.

“Keep your eyes on me.” Jungkook demands.

You swallow, finding it difficult underneath his intense gaze. Jungkook lowers himself, burying his tongue deep within your folds. He forces your legs open each time you threaten to close them. His eyes are locked onto your fluttering ones, watching as you moan and cry for him. You were so beautiful for him - if only you’d allow him to admire your beauty. Oftentimes when he looked your way, you were quick to respond with a witty remark.

“Fuck…” you groan, breaking eye-contact just as he enters his fingers inside of you. You lay your head back and continue to pant.

“You never allow me to treat you nicely.” Jungkook removes his tongue from your clit to spit on it, continuing his pumping. “If you’d let me, I would take good care of you.” Jungkook licks his lips, the wet sounds of your pussy like a melody to his ears. “But instead, you want to be a bitch. I don’t get it.”

“K-Kookie…” you draw out a moan, a hand cupping your breast. You can feel the familiar churning in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum-”

“No you aren’t.” Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you, hand slapping your clit.

Your eyes shoot open, your pussy clenching around nothing. “W-What-”

Your mouth is stuffed with Jungkook’s fingers, your tongue twirling around them.

“See how good you taste?” Jungkook questions, removing his fingers to grip your chin tightly. “I would let you cum but…I’m sure you can always find someone else to do it. Since you enjoy faking so much.”

Your heart is pumping and you flush hot with embarrassment. You aren’t sure what to say - Jungkook had you beat.

“Aw,” Jungkook chuckles. “You look so sad, baby. I can let you cum.”

You swallow, glancing away from Jungkook.

“Is that what you want?”

You nod your head, but Jungkook wants to hear you.

You yelp when your clit is slapped once more. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes!” you try not to moan and sound too desperate, but it’s inevitable.

“Yes what, baby?” Jungkook’s already tugging his bottom half off, his underwear going along with it. His shirt is next, chisel abs in your line of vision that you groan at just the sight. “Tell me what you want, Y/N. You have a mouth any other time.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his cocky attitude.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his amazing dick that has you following along with him. “Please fuck me.” you sigh in defeat. “Please make me cum, Kook.”

“With pleasure.” Jungkook is delighted. He slaps the top of his cock against your clit, licking his lips. “So wet. To think you said someone else can have you like this.”

Jungkook wasn’t going to let that go - you can only imagine how hard he was going to fuck-

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout in surprise at how hard he enters you, his thrusting increasing by the second. Your back slams against the bed with each thrust, and it only bounces back just as hard.

“You can handle it, Y/N.” Jungkook hisses, fingernails digging into your flesh. “You don’t want me to be nice, you don’t want to be my girl…”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, panting heavily. Jungkook’s tone appears serious - you’d have to ask later on if your words really got to him like they appeared to have.

“I let you…fuck…” Jungkook’s head hangs, eyes unsure where to focus. Your breast bounced furiously in rhythm with his pounding. Your face is scrunched with pleasure, a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth. “...I let you sit on my face. I let you spend as much of my money as you’d like with no limit. I…”

Jungkook grips your chin once more, forcing you to focus on him. It’s difficult - Jungkook doesn’t allow you a second to breathe, but you don’t want him to.

“And all I really ask you to be is my girl.”

It pains for him to remove himself from you - all he wants is to cum deep inside of you like you’d allow him before. But - his pride and ego got the best of him. If you were going to front as if you didn’t need him to cum, then you weren’t.

“Kook…” you cry in defeat, pussy once more clenching around nothing.

Jungkook laughs, a dark glee in the tone. “And like I said before, Y/N…” your eyes flutter a bit looking at his face - dark lust filled eyes staring right into yours. “...I can have you on your back begging for me, can’t I?”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

Your chest heaves. “Fuck you.” you curse at how meek your voice appeared.

“I bet you’d like that baby.” Jungkook plays with your clit slightly. “You’re my girl, right?”

You lick your lips, thighs quivering.

“Say it and I’ll let you cum.” Jungkook centers his tip at your entrance, thumb circling against your wet bud. “That’s all I want from you, baby. You can have anything you want from me…”

Jungkook enters you slowly this time. Your groan is long and deep, your hands reaching out to grab Jungkook’s bicep.

“J-Jungkook.” you trail off - the pleasure now getting to you. You just wanted to cum by him - his hands, mouth, cock, whatever it took.

“Yes, baby?” Jungkook breathes - he’s unsure himself if he’d be able to last long like this and then his ego would be hurt (but then again, he wouldn’t have blueballs).

“Please make me cum, Kookie.” you wail, hot tears falling down your face. You had to look utterly pathetic weeping for dick. Jungkook’s ego was now going to skyrocket and this moment is something he would forever hold over your head - no jokes from you could ever be taken now. “I had you on your back crying for me, baby” - you can hear it now.

But - you were desperate. Jungkook was hot, his dick was amazing and you’d allow him to have this over you.

“I’m your girl, Kookie.”

Jungkook shudders - and now he’s truly satisfied. He pounds into you sloppily, certain that neither of you were going to last long. You’re clenching around him so heavenly, moaning and crying his names that he cannot help but want to cum inside of you each and every time.

“I know you’re close, baby.” you hear Jungkook say, his forehead - moist with sweat - pressed onto yours. “We can come together, okay?”

“Y-Yea…” you nod, but you wrap your arms around Jungkook and press your lips against his. You’re groaning against the kiss, already cumming on his cock.

Jungkook feels the electric shock go through him and he shudders. With a few more thrusts, Jungkook cums inside of you, trembling at the sensation.

Ten minutes it’s what it took for you and Jungkook to come back to reality. You’re sweaty and you haven’t even done anything.

“You wanna shower?” Jungkook’s voice pipes in. “Are you okay? I didn’t go too overboard, right?”

You nod your head. “I’m okay.” you murmur.

Jungkook nods. He kisses your temple. “I can start the shower for you-”

“You aren’t coming?” you ask once you feel Jungkook shuffle on the bed.

“I-I..” Jungkook’s eyes are wide and doe like. He appears completely surprised that you offered such a thing. “You’d like me to?”

You laugh at his expression. How you manage to remove yourself from the bed is beyond you - your legs are shaking with pain that you’re not upset about.

Jungkook feels your hands against his bare chest and he tilts his head, awaiting your response. “I said I was your girl, wasn’t I?” you murmur, sending a kiss to his chest.

In seconds, Jungkook is erect again at just the admission.

Series Masterlist

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subbmissivesuccubus · 1 year

Text

Bully- Part 1

Summary: Your bully's, Gojo and Geto, find out an embarrassing secret of yours and will never let you live it down. But maybe, you don't want them to.

Disclaimer: 18+ fic. Gojo X Fem reader X Geto. Humiliation kink. Free use kink. Gojo and Geto being mean. Bully Geto and Gojo. Dub-con warning. It is subtly implied that reader wants and enjoys what's happening to her, but the boys don't care to ask for consent.

a/n: Sorry it took so long wah but here's part one to the series. I plan to write many more cause damn it is so fun haha. I promise, the next part will have all the gratuitous smut and ruthless fucking this premise deserves. Consider this an appetizer <3

Taglist: @bisexuawolfsalt @candycandy00 @nekonanamii @sirimiripetrichor @collectionofdolls @dreamsxmerci

You sighed as you walked towards your classroom, dragging your feet, knowing full well what was waiting for you. It was the end of the day and it was your turn to clean up the classroom and just your luck- you were paired up with the two people you couldn't stand.

Gojo and Geto. The two 'strongest' sorcerers of your school. Their reputation preceded them. One of them was the prodigal son of a famous family with a deadly technique while the other had an incredibly useful and powerful skill as well. Everyone disliked them to some extent, but nobody could deny that the Jujutsu world would be worse without them.

Which is why it always confused you as to why these two powerful men seemed to love bullying you.

They were never malicious but damn if they weren't annoying. They loved to tease and prank you, joking about how weak you were and how you couldn't do anything by yourself. Forget the fact that you were actually quite strong and capable- but compared to them- everyone was weak.

But they seemed to enjoy bullying you especially even if there were classmates who were of lower grade than you. Stealing your drink right before you were going to take it from the vending machine, taking unflattering pictures of you and distributing it, embarrassing you in front of strangers by treating you like a dumb baby in front of them, making loud sex noises if you were on the phone with someone, tossing away your books and stealing your money-

Gojo spanking your ass casually a few times, Geto licking off some chocolate that was smeared next to your lips like it was a normal thing to do and even that one time when they cornered you in the hallway and convinced you to let them grope your boobs:

"If you let us squeeze your tits, we'll leave you alone for a week~" Gojo had said, wangling his fingers comically as they both stared at your chest like perverts. The offer was too good to give up which led to them squeezing your clothed tits for ten second each before they left, laughing at how easy it was to use you. And of course, they continued to bother you anyway.

You could have made a complaint to the higher ups about their behavior, something your friends have told you to do but you refused. You didn't want to be the wuss who was running to the elders over something so childish when everyone has an important job to do. Dealing with some bullying was easy compared to fighting to the death with some curses.

Besides, if you reported on them...

You steeled yourself before opening to the door to the classroom, met with the sight you expected: Gojo and Geto, lounging around, not doing any work as they waited for you to do it for them because, in their words: 'the weaklings need to put in more effort'.

But what you were not expecting to see was your phone in Gojo's hand using earplugs that he had connected to the device. You knew you left your phone in the locker assigned to you in the hallways which meant these two managed to pick the lock and take it. But the anger over that was dwarfed by your sudden realization:

The way they were looking at you as you closed the door, giving you a shocked look but you could tell there was an underlying hint of pure glee.

Uh oh.

"Give me back my-"

You yelped as Geto suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, barely giving you a second to collect yourself before he wrapped his arms around your neck, catching you in a choke-hold. Before you could even react, he pulled your back against him and manhandled you as he sat on a classroom bench and forced you to sit between his legs, wrapping said legs around you. You were completely caught, your nails doing nothing even as you dug it into his arms.

"Holy fuck!" Gojo explained, eyes wide and a huge grin on his face as he continued to listen to the audio on your phone, looking over at you and Geto opposite of the table he was sitting on, "You're a perverted freak, aren't you?"

"Give it back!" you snapped, grunting in annoyance as you tried to break out of Geto's hold but the man simply laughed as he held you tighter, his legs not budging.

"This is some nasty stuff!" Gojo continued, "Who knew a weakling like you would be such a masochistic slut~" he removed the earbuds from the socket and increased the volume as he confirmed what you had feared:

"Yeah? you like that don't you? Little slut~" a man's voice echoed throughout the room from your phone speakers, "Everybody looking at you as I fuck this sloppy little pussy~ Oh this cunt is dripping for me- did you like being spanked in front of them so much?"

It was an erotic audio you had saved on your phone, one of many that you enjoyed in private. You had even saved it under non-suspicious names which meant that the boys were digging through your files to find something- and they did.

"This isn't even the only one we heard, you know." Gojo explained as he dangled the phone in front of you mockingly, "What was it again? A girl getting humiliated by her teacher in front of her classmates-"

"A girl getting groped by her boyfriend on a crowded train." Geto recollected, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his hot breath dance against your skin.

"Being used as a free-use toy by a group of guys~" Gojo said, a giant shit eating grin on his face, "Seems like this one has a humiliation kink~"

"I'm not surprised." Geto said, leaning into your ear and blowing into it, making you gasp and jump, "No wonder she never reported us to the principle for all the times we preyed on her. She was probably enjoying it."

"Oh!" Gojo said like he just realized it, "Was that why? Was your pussy growing wet every time we bullied you, little slut?"

"Fuck you." you spat out, both of the men laughing in response.

"Yeah, I bet you wanted us to fuck you." Geto growled into your ear, your shiver not going unnoticed by him, "You're fucking loving this~"

"Why don't we check?" Gojo suggested, cutting off anything you might have said, his hands inching towards your belt, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, "Let's see for ourselves if we made your pussy wet~"

"Gojo-"

"That's a great plan!" Geto interrupted, laughing as he tightened his hold your your neck, making you gasp, "Take those pants off. So baggy and loose- what a waste of a nice ass."

"I agree." Gojo said, finger now running over the metal of your belt, "it hides so much. With what I felt everytime I've spanked you- your pants do you no favors."

"Don't you- fucking dare!" You choked out, face turning slightly red from the lack of air and from Gojo slowly starting to fiddle with your belt.

"Oh, what are you gonna do about it, little slut?" Gojo teased, licking his lips as his long, lithe fingers started to tug at the leather of your belt, "Look at your fucking face- that look in your eyes? You're loving this."

"No- I'm not- fuck-" you sputtered out, failing to convey your frustrations. You couldn't stand these two assholes. Constantly picking on you and thinking they were so high and mighty- treating you like a bug on their path. So smug and narcissistic and not caring about anyone but themselves-

But as much as you'd hate to admit it, you couldn't deny that your body was throbbing. Everytime they bullied you, you felt that heat. Your heart-rate quickened and your pussy would grow wet, leaving you a confused mess every-time you got bullied. When it first happened, you didn't understand what was happening. Through some internet searching, you found those audios and realized you weren't the only one out there.

A masochist with a humiliation kink.

And without them knowing, the two guys you hate were fulfilling those fantasies for you.

Well now, they were more than aware.

"Come on, little bitch~" Geto cooed into your ear, his silky voice making you shudder, "Why settle with these audios when you can experience the real thing?"

"I...I..." you panted, heat rushing to your face and your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel your pussy dampen and had no doubt that if Gojo actually took your pants off, they'd see you be wet and needy.

"Too slow~" Gojo suddenly said, unbuckling your belt in a matter of seconds before ripping it off of you just as fast, throwing it aside. You yelped as you instinctively struggled, Geto laughing behind you as he tightened his hold on you even more, rendering you helpless. Gojo laughed as well, his bright blue eyes peeking from behind his glasses as you could see the gleam of excitement in them.

"You excited, little bitch?" Gojo cooed, licking his lips as his hands started trailing up your leg, running over the fabric of your pants as he inched up higher and higher. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, a rush of heat coursing through you.

"He asked you a question." Geto said, clicking his tongue as you refused to say anything, "Weren't you taught any manners?"

"Fucking- i'll kill you-" you gasped out, face growing redder as you heard Geto's growl of annoyance, feeling the vibration of his chest against your back. "Don't worry about it, Suguru." Gojo said, smirking as he started undoing the buttons of your pants, "We can punish her later for her disrespect. For now, I just want to get at this pussy~"

With a big grin, Gojo ripped your pants off of you in one fell swoop, making you squeal as he tossed it away. You shivered as your bare legs were exposed to the evening air as well as their lecherous stares. You could see Gojo's eyes trail up your legs before zoning in on your clothed pussy, the man letting out a snort as he took in your panties.

"Pink with a bow on? Really?" he joked, "how plain and not sexy."

"I think they're cute." Geto chimed in, also shamelessly staring down at your clothed cunt, "But it doesn't matter. It's not going to be on her for long, anyway."

"True." Gojo said with a nod as he hooked his finger into the waistband of your panties and pulled it out before letting go, allowing the elastic to slap back against you, "but next time, wear something sexier."

"I hate you- so much!" you snarled, face bright red, biting your lower lip as the white haired man looped his fingers back into the waistband of your panties, this time, very obviously wanting to get it off of you. You gasped, unable to stop your shivers as Gojo leaned forward and placed a kiss on your tummy, his tongue peeking out to lick at your skin as he slowly starting pulling your panties down. He laughed as you tried to squiggle out but your movements only made the slide of your panties all the more easier for him.

"Look at that~" Gojo gasped as your cunt got exposed, practically drooling as he stared like a pervert, a twinkle behind his blue eyes, "You might be a weakling but atleast you have a pretty pussy."

"Atleast she's good for something~" Geto teased, shuffling behind you and in that moment, you felt it. Something long, hard and thick pressed up against your back and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what that was. You gulped as you felt the imprint of Geto's cock against you, unable to help yourself as your eyes darted towards the front of Gojo's pants and sure enough: His erection was straining against it.

They were too focused on your cunt to notice where you were looking and you were too focused on their dicks to notice that your panties were now completely off and that Gojo had tossed the fabric aside. Geto immediately hooked his legs over your own before forcefully spreading them apart, leaving you wide and exposed to their perverted gazes. Gojo let out a whistle as he dragged a chair over before sitting on it, his face now right across your bare cunt.

"Fuck- fuck you- fuck you!" you gasped out and cursed, feeling lightheaded from the situation. "How does she look?" Geto asked, both of them ignoring you and you could hear the hunger in his voice and the sensation of his cock twitching against you. "Oh, she's perfect~" Gojo responded and you knew they were referring to your pussy as its own person- somehow giving it more praise and respect than they've ever given you, "And oh so wet~"

"I want to see." Geto demanded, not having the same view as Gojo, "Can't let you have all the fun."

"Sure thing, pal." Gojo said, not taking his eyes off of your pussy as he continued to stare, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Gojo- don't you dare-" You barked out, understanding what he was going to do- but what you hoped sounded aggressive came out soft and subservient. The man simply snorted in response, ignoring your pleas as he opened up his phone camera and started taking pictures of your pussy. You shut your eyes and squealed everytime you heard the shutter of the camera, trembling body still held tightly in Geto's arms.

"Her hole clenches every-time I take a picture~" Gojo cooed, bringing a hand up to thumb at your pussy lips before spreading them apart even more, making your back arch against Geto, "And look at this little clit! So fucking cute!"

"Just show it to me already!" Geto snarled, impatient. "Alright, alright." Gojo responded with a roll of his eyes, standing up before turning the phone towards the two of you, a shot of your spread pussy on screen. You turned your head away and closed your eyes, ears ringing at how humiliated you felt-

and pussy dripping at how good it was.

"Oh, she does look delicious!" Geto praised, gripping your chin as he forced you to turn your head back towards the phone, making you look at the picture, "You have such a pretty cunt and you hid it from us for so long?"

You whined cutely as you looked at the picture- a closeup shot of your spread cunt with a clear view of your clit and hole, your cunt glistening with slick.

"Seriously!" Gojo barked as he started swiping, showing off the various photos of your pussy that were now in his possession, "If we knew all you wanted was some fucking, we'd have pounded this pussy ages ago! I've always wanted a sex toy."

"Don't you have like a dozen already?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure this bitch's cunt will feel way better than some silicone~"

"I hate you-" you gasped out, any and all fight leaving your bones (not that there was much to begin with) as you leaned your head against Geto's shoulder, "I hate you both- so much-"

"Yeah?" Geto asked, the tone in his voice clearly indicating that he wasn't taking you seriously, "Well, this pussy says otherwise."

He let go of your chin and snaked his hand down quickly to cup your pussy, making you yelp. You didn't know if what you felt was shame or relief that there was finally a hand on your cunt- finally some friction against your dripping womanhood. You tossed your head back, eyebrows furrowed and lip trapped under your teeth as Geto's long fingers started gliding through your pussy lips. The slick sound of him rubbing circles over your hole and collecting your wetness echoed through the room, the sound making your ears burn and your chest feel like it was on fire.

This is was so...so...

so fucking fun...

"She's loving this~" Gojo predicted accurately, eyes darting between your blissful expression and Geto's fingers toying with your body, "Fucking whore- slutty bitch- oh, we are going to have fun with you~"

"Her pussy is growing wetter by the second." Geto noted, cock fully erect and throbbing against you, his other arm slowly letting go of the hold around your neck, confident that you were going to stay right there like a good little girl. You gasped as the head spinning pressure was finally off of you, taking in a few deep breaths but choking on it just as quickly as the man started using his slick covered fingers to run circles over your clit.

"You're dripping all over the table, little bitch~" Gojo teased, taking a couple more pictures before pocketing it, "Fuck- let me feel too- or- actually-"

He sat back on the chair, pulling it closer before gripping your thighs, an eager grin on his face:

"I'm gonna eat~"

"Get used to this, little bitch." Geto growled into your ear, pulling his hand away from your cunt and snickering at your whine of disappointment, "You're our toy now and we are going to do whatever we want to you, understand?"

His hands came upto your chest, lithe fingers starting to undo the buttons of your shirt one by one, revealing a patch of skin before the peeks of your bra. Gojo licked his lips and moved forward, his hot breath fanning against your slick cunt.

"Whatever. We. Want."

#subby writes #jujutsu geto smut #jujutsu gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader x geto #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut

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hyperfixatedbastard · 7 months

Text

how to get the First Man™ out of bed

Soft!Adam x GN!Reader

Turns out the 'First Man' himself is actually super clingy. And he is a big baby when it comes to getting up in the mornings. Good luck convincing him to get his ass outta bed!

Word Count: 1.1k

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, implied sexual content, withholding sex, kissing (it's still SFW!)

A/N: Here is the Adam x Reader fluff, finally! I didn't mean for this to have so much sex-adjacent content but I think that's just too integral to Adam's character lmao. It's still SFW though so it's fineee. I didn't mean for the 'withholding sex' part to be manipulative, it's all fun n' games here, so apologies if it comes across as too serious. (It was originally 'one week', not 'one day' - I changed it just in case lol)

Dividers

Beneath the douchebag exterior of the First Man™, Adam’s really just a big ol’ softie. Just deep, deep, deep down. It took a long time to find that part of him, but as his partner, you’re one of the only people that even knows this side of him exists.

One thing you really hadn’t expected from the man is how clingy he can get—it probably has something to do with the abandonment issues, but you’ve never tried to broach that subject. It’s currently early in the morning, and Adam doesn’t seem to plan on letting go of you anytime soon. You’re cuddled up with him in bed, his mask and robes absent as he sleeps. His wings are wrapped around you like a protective blanket. And now you have to try and convince his stubborn ass to get the fuck up. You’ve already been awake for about fifteen minutes, hoping your boyfriend will wake up on his own, but of course, that’s not going to happen.

Getting Adam out of bed is always a struggle. Despite the promotion of Heaven as the ‘perfect place’ with ‘no bad days,’ there’s still a schedule to abide by, and angels still need sleep. And Adam really hates those damn schedules, and loves his beauty sleep. There are a multitude of ways to try and get him out of bed, and every morning is a guessing game to see which one will work.

1. Be sweet and try to gently encourage him to get out of bed.

“Adam, babe,” you murmur softly, opting for a gentle approach this time around. You pat his arms where they’re wrapped securely around your waist—you would try to get a look at his face, but he’s spooning you from behind and giving you absolutely zero wiggle room. “You gotta get up, we have shit to do.”

“Mm…fuck off,” Adam grumbles, only tightening his hold on you and nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck. Which was about what you expected.

2. Be a little assertive.

“Adam, c’mon,” you warn in an attempt to convince him to get the fuck up. “I’ve already given you an extra fifteen minutes.”

“Then gimme fifteen more,” he insists, his voice sounding almost whiny. His childishness would be adorable if you didn’t actually have shit to do today.

3. Be a little more assertive.

You sigh. It’s never easy with this asshole. “Adam.”

The angel in question makes a little ‘mmpf’ sound into your back.

“Get the fuck up.”

He doesn’t even respond this time—he just holds you tighter, his wings copying his arms and trapping you in his embrace.

4. Bribery.

Actually, fuck no. You refuse to bribe him again. He’s already gotten that out of you several times before, getting anything from sex to food to picking what movie you two watch that night (you’ve watched Die Hard three times this week alone)

No, this is a game you are not losing this time.

5. Threats.

“Okay, you’ve got three options,” you offer, your voice less stern than your last attempt but not as soft as your first. “One: you get up.”

Adam makes another noncommittal little grunt of acknowledgment.

“Two: you don’t get up, and Lute breaks into our apartment again to drag your ass out of bed.”

He lets out a sound that sounds kind of like a chuckle, but it’s muffled against the back of your neck, so it’s hard to tell. But he’s clearly not intimidated by the warning.

“Three: you don’t get up and we don’t fuck tonight.”

That gets him. He tenses up for a moment before scoffing in disbelief. “Yeah, right, like you could go a day without this dick.”

A smirk pulls at your lips. You’ve got him now. “Try me.”

Adam’s silent for nearly a full minute. He has a much higher libido than you, and he knows you’d be fine without sex for a day. Him, on the other hand? He’s got a high sex drive and is downright spoiled.

You’re worried he’s fallen back asleep, but eventually, he sighs. His wings unfurl and his grip around you loosens, though not letting go entirely. “Fineee,” he groans dramatically. “But only because I don’t wanna deprive you of my amazing dick.”

You chuckle and turn to face him, now that you have the ability to actually move. His hair’s all messy, as it usually is, and his golden eyes are just barely cracked open.

“Oh, how generous of you,” you joke, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He instinctively pushes his face into your palm ever so slightly.

“I know, I’m fucking great,” he agrees, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He knows you were being sarcastic, but he’ll turn damn near anything into a compliment that strokes his ego.

You just roll your eyes at his response, albeit fondly. He’s a dumbass, but he’s your dumbass.

“Alright, you big baby, time to get up,” you tease, moving to sit up before his arms tighten around you once more, pulling you back down.

“Hey—” you start, but are immediately cut off by a pair of lips on yours. His lips move slowly and languidly along with yours, and you’re all too happy to reciprocate.

You sigh into the kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against Adam’s lips. There’s a big difference between your usual hungry, eager make-outs and the sweet, lazy kisses you get when he’s all soft and sleepy. Both are great, but you really savor these tender, gentle moments with him. In the mornings, he’s too tired to keep up that arrogant ‘too cool for all that mushy, affectionate shit’ persona. And while you love him all the time, sleepy Adam definitely holds a special place in your heart.

He’s smiling when he lets you pull away. The kiss wasn’t a particularly long one, but you could’ve let it go on forever. But you’d be one hell of a hypocrite if you stayed in bed just to kiss your boyfriend after making such a point to get his ass out of bed.

“Now are you ready to get up?” you ask softly, still basking in the warmth of his embrace and the memory of his lips on yours.

“Mm…” Adam hums in consideration. His smile quickly turns to a smirk as he tightens his hold on you yet again and wraps his wings around you. “No.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Needless to say, you do not stay true to your word about the consequences of Adam not getting out of bed. And Lute does, in fact, break into your apartment half an hour later to be confronted with a sight she sees far too often for her liking.

Fuck him for being so damn stubborn. Literally.

Taglist - @3sire-777

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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jnece-maharlika · 4 months

Text

Pt2Danny Accidentally becomes the Ghost king, the president and the biggest threat to Bruce's social status.

Pt 1 link:

Part 2 Danny becomes the president.

Amity Parkers are the most adaptable people in the world. They're barely fazed by anything.

If you throw them into a situation that they are very unfamiliar with, it'll only take them five minutes to adjust before they start planning on how to live with this situation.

The Amity Parker mindset is: "Oh, I guess this is happening now."

So when the ghosts start attacking? The Amity Parkers immediately look for ways to avoid and protect themselves from the ghosts, not even questioning why ghosts are real. The only thing they think about is, "Damn, there's a ghost. I hope it doesn't attack the theater; I really want to see that movie."

When Phantom had his debut as a hero? The Amity Parkers started looking for ways to help, ways to keep out of his way (some to try and keep him away). The thought running through their minds was, "So this one is trying to protect us? Guess we have a hero now."

Amity Parkers don't spend their time getting mad at the sudden change of routine, the sudden loss of normalcy, or the broken buildings. Amity Parkers don't ask why and how ghosts are real, don't question if all ghosts are evil or if there are some good ghosts, and don't even think of how to get rid of them completely (they're part of the community now). They only look for ways to keep themselves from getting overshadowed. They definitely don't spend time thinking if the ghosts could bring more danger in the future or looking for more information for possible contingency plans. They aren't Batman; they believe that if the present is good, then the future will be better.

Point is, Amity Parkers are resilient and adaptable. They will take everything in stride and focus on the present. So what if some ghosts attack and block the street? They need to get to work, so they'll just drive around it.

After the whole Pariah Dark thing, they become liminal, gaining some form of super strength and glowing eyes (symptoms vary based on how strong the radiation on a person is). A normal human would think, "OH MY GOD, I'M DYING!" The Amity Parkers went, "Oh, cool, this is cool, but now I'm having a problem with opening doors without breaking the knob. Maybe the Fentons could do something about it, make stronger knobs or something."

When some babies started gaining some inhuman features? Some start floating? (Sharper ears, fangs. Babies adapt to things faster, so they get more ecto radiation.) The Amity parents went, "Is there a way to keep my child on the ground without leashing them like a dog?" Then proceeded to make a help blog for other Amity parents dealing with the same things.

So when the ghosts start becoming more of the community rather than enemies, the Amity Parkers just shrugged and asked for a book of ghost customs so they don't accidentally offend them.

When the Fentons started making ghost and human-safe items, no one even questioned why Danny had so much money and was funding his parents' research.

When Danny's name was almost (if not) in everything and he seemed to own most of the town, no one questioned it.

But everything changed when the GIW came again. Even the Amity Parkers weren't expecting this change.

The GIW waltzed in, claiming the liminal town was theirs to play with and started attacking everyone, including the Amity Parkers. The Amity Parkers went full defense mode, protecting the ghosts that were now their friends/neighbors/lovers, making sure that nothing would harm them.

They learned that it was Vlad who called on the GIW. He was pissed and petty that the crown was taken from him and decided to report his liminal town, pretending to be a "concerned mayor" who "wants his people to be healed."

The Amity Parkers were mad... they were furious.

And in the moment they saw Phantom fall to the ground, unconscious, and watched him de-transform from the hero King Phantom to the kid that owns and funds the most helpful companies in town, something changed. Something in the Amity Parkers changed.

Keep in mind that Amity Parkers don't change; they remain the same as they adapt to whatever change the world throws at them.

NEVER ONCE HAD THE AMITY PARKERS DECIDED TO MAKE A CHANGE THEMSELVES.

The first thing they changed? Their mentality. NEVER AGAIN WERE THEY GOING TO LET OUTSIDE FACTORS CHANGE THEIR LIVES. THIS IS THEIR TOWN AND IT WILL STAY THAT WAY.

God help the GIW for being their first victims.

An angry town of liminals, ghosts, and borderline gods, who have access to the Fentons' very destructive and effective technology.

Vs.

The regular GIW humans with anti-ghost tech they stole from the Fentons and nothing against liminals.

The battle was a swift victory, destroying not only the GIW in town but also all of its branches (and Vlad) with almost no traces of them even existing in the first place.

The change didn't stop there, however.

The Amity Parkers banded together with Team Phantom and the Fentons (minus Danny, as he is healing and shouldn't know about their plans; the hero should rest) and took out some of that ghost king money that Danny's trying to get rid of. They crashed the UN meeting while kidnapping the president of America.

The Amity Parkers have decided that Amity Park is theirs; it belongs to the people and its heroes. But how is it supposed to be truly theirs if they have to follow the rules of the country that funded the GIW?

A couple of death threats, bribing, more death threats and more money bribing to make sure the anti ecto acts are gone and the League of Bitches (Phantom called the JL that, and the Amity Parkers decided it was true) doesn't know about it, and a couple of hours in the nightmare realm (courtesy of Fright Knight, who happily participated when he found out what happened), and Amity Park was now its own independent country.

They decided that Tucker was to be a main part of security, letting him put up another firewall like the GIW did to make sure no one knows about their country. They don't want the League of Bitches or any outsider in the King's Haunt. It's theirs now; it belongs to the Ghost King of Amity Park, outsiders be gone.

And when it came to deciding who would be leader? There was no hesitation as they wrote down:

Daniel "Danny Phantom" Fenton, King of the Infinite Realms, King and President of Amity Park.

___________________

A couple of years later, Batman, finding hints of a "Lazarus pit" in Illinois, send Flash to look around for anything suspicious. Flash, hyper focused on following his gps, hits a wall, literally faceplants into it.He double checks his map, the wall wasn't supposed to be there. He goes around it, there no way in, no way out. He goes back to batman and reports.

Pt3 soon.

Tags as requested

@nana-mizu-shiki

@talia-scar123

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