#i really wanted to take a look at the entire vase | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

k-hotchoisan · 4 months ago

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Hear me out... yeosang greek mythology-esque AU where every few decades a maiden is sent as a sacrifice to the one they believe is the god of love and fertility. A very confused deity yeosang usually just rolls with it and puts these young ladies to sleep for a night ot two before returning them to their people (cuz that one time he just sent someone back the entire village panicked and blamed her for not being a "good enough offering" and he felt bad for a century). But this time... for some reason... he just can't take his eyes off the sleeping girl before him (there can be backstory here like he's met her before while parading as a mortal or sumin idk) and decides... maybe this time he'll keep her...

alrighty aphrodite

every eleven years, a young maiden is chosen as sacrifice for the god of love and fertility, at least they think they do, only for Yeosang to put the sacrificed maiden to sleep because he doesn't want to deal with them.

but when it’s you being chosen to be the next maiden, Yeosang decides, maybe this time, he’s gonna keep you for himself instead.

Genre/warnings: smut with plot, (kinda) Greek god au deity yeosang x maiden!reader, mentioned elements of sacrifice (though not too heavy nor gory), unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, masturbation (m), obsessive softdom! Yeosang, he’s actually fucking whipped for you, praise kink, mentions of virginity (where reader is NOT but it’s not elaborated further), yearning!yeosang

wc: 6k

a/n: I’m sorry this took SO long to develop. Truth to be told, this prompt has been stuck at the back of my mind and boy, I really wanted to make this beauty work. Also a special thanks to @bro-atz for helping me develop (this is for you as well hehe) Enjoy! 🩷

Walking through the cold and pale marble temple, you watch the way the vines curl around the pillars, creeping its way up to get some sun. The temple is insanely huge, standing tall thanks to blocky pillars, with intricate carvings, which you identify as white marble being slowly overtaken by soft moss and stubborn vines.

You know, despite the gorgeous temple, its practices to serve Aphrodite were but.

Despite the anxiety you feel, you know you could do not much to fight against the elders and their ridiculous traditions. For centuries, chosen maidens by the fertility deity have been offered to appease the gods for the blessings of fertility of the town’s land and women every 11 years. No one knew how the gods looked like, but it seemed that every time a maiden was sent, the fields would bloom and flourish, couples would be blessed with a pregnancy.

Of course, why wouldn’t they continue this ridiculous tradition?

And this year, you were chosen.

You remember the last conversation you had with your mother before you had stepped foot into the temple.

“I’ll come back mother. Weren’t there rumours that one of the maidens managed to come back?”

Your mother’s index finger flew to her lips. “Be careful of what you utter, my daughter. They don’t like the reminder that their choice was rejected.”

You blinked at her, recalling the incident where one of the maidens got “returned” right after the ceremony and from what you could remember, led the elders to grow furious on top of anxious, then demanding that another sacrifice to be made, since the maiden was now considered “rejected” by the deity. The poor girl. Surely this deity couldn’t be that picky, right?

You continue to thread the path before you, the soles of your feet getting used to the coldness of the marble floor by now.

You enter the fountain room, and as its title, sits a large marble fountain, a statue lady draped over with a long piece of fabric looking down onto three cupids that spit out water, while she, herself pours water out of a vase.

The sound of flowing water could honestly put you to sleep, if it wasn’t a curt reminder that you’re meant to drown here. Rose petals decorate and almost fully cover the surface of the bottomless fountain. Maybe it was a ploy to at least relax the previous maidens. There are a handful of people, all dressed in white robes that hide their faces, while the elders are dressed in ivory.

“There she is. Beautiful y/n”, the elder woman smiles, the emotion not reaching her eyes. You force a smile back. “Come, the water’s not cold.”

You dip your toes in.

The water is fucking cold.

“Think of it as a blessing to us, that you’re doing a gracious service to the village”, another elder curtly reminds you while she tosses more rose petals into the fountain.

Two other women lie you down onto the water and more petals are strewn across the surface. Your hair is wet by now and so is your dress. You cringe at how cold the water is biting against your skin but you bear with it.

The older woman turns around.

“We are gathered here today to witness the blessing Aphrodite will be giving us. We pray that the maiden reaches the goddess safely and may she stay in good hands”, she announces with clasped hands.

“May Aphrodite bless us all.” She yells, her hands raised to the heavens, before the two hooded elders beside her shove your body into the fountain, sinking you to the depths, the last thing you’re hearing are loud chants that gradually become muted as you slowly accept your fate.

A familiar hymn plays, and it catches Yeosang’s attention.

“The maiden offering is here”, his Cupid announces.

Yeosang only sighs in defeat, annoyed that his rose gardening has been interrupted, muttering how these mortals were being ridiculous, while still walking over to his marble foundation, careful not the crush the roses that had fallen onto the grass.

“I genuinely have no idea how to stop these people from sending women down the fountain”, he complains to nobody in particular.

“Why not just appear in front of them and tell them you’re the deity?” The little Cupid suggests as he floats beside Yeosang.

He turns to his minion with folded arms. “No way. These people would pelt me with stones before they even decide to give me a chance to prove that I am. I’ll just do the usual.”

“Put them to sleep and then tie a red string on their ankles?”

“-to make sure they don’t get hurt or freak out or something. Then send them back up when enough time has passed.”, he continues with a small pout. “I’m still shocked at the way they freaked out when I sent the previous one back four decades ago.”

The Cupid purses his lips, listening to Yeosang rant about this for the nth time ever since he took over the temple and the rituals started every 11 decades as they near the fountain.

He continues his rant up till he reaches the fountain. “Besides, none of them they send are ever my cup of tea. I’m sure this one’s not any-“

Then Yeosang immediately quietens down when his eyes land on the sleeping maiden before him. His Cupid casts him a confused glance, then back to the maiden on the fountain, wondering what suddenly silenced Yeosang.

It’s just another maiden, his Cupid thinks.

On the contrary, Yeosang can’t seem to keep his eyes off the maiden who’s unconscious, covered in rose petals like the previous maidens. What made her so different? He doesn’t know, but there’s a strange tinge of familiarity when he rests his eyes on your sleeping figure.

The cupid’s eyes widen when Yeosang personally picks you up from the water with his bare hands. He never did that to the previous maidens, for he would complain about getting his robes wet.

He sets you down on the cloud bed, watching how you’re breathing softly while he waits for the cupids to hand him a spare robe for you to change into.

“Yeosang, aren’t you gonna change out?” His Cupid asks as he hands Yeosang the fresh set of robes.

You stir from your slumber, feeling softness against your skin. You slowly open your eyes, before you remember what happened, and you shoot up, soaking in the unfamiliar environment surrounding you. It’s a beautiful, spacious, and airy room. Your eyes land on a male who’s fitting stalks of roses into a glass vase.

“In a bit”, Yeosang replies, his eyes not lifting from you.

He turns to you just in time, and you freeze.

Oh gods, he’s stunning. His eyes are a shade of gray that makes him look all the more dreamy, and his lashes are long. His hair is a soft platinum blonde, contrasted by the bright red roses that rest on his hair. He looks like a statue himself.

“You’re awake”, he greets with a curt nod.

“You’re-“

“—Aphrodite‘s descendant, Deity Kang Yeosang”, the flying child announces.

“Oh! Pardon my rudeness, Deity”, you squeak, going on your knees, your hands on the cold, marble ground.

But Yeosang has his hands around you, lifting you up. “You don’t need to-“

“Oh but I should. You’ve been blessing our village with bountiful fields and beautiful children. It’s only right that I bow on their behalf”, you insist. Yeosang is speechless, mostly because it’s the first time that he has allowed a maiden to be conscious around his quarters, and that he’s speaking to one. He doesn’t really know what to do, let alone why he even did that in the first place.

Yeosang looks away sheepishly. “It’s part of my job. Please, you may rise.” Despite his seemingly soft demeanour, you realise how chiseled his arms are, his muscles lifting you up together with him. When you’re finally facing him, you can’t help but wonder if this was the view that every maiden had—and that maybe it’s not so bad after all.

Yeosang practically gave you the living quarters you woke up in, in which you were obviously thankful, offering for any help in exchange for it. Yeosang declined but you insisted, telling him you should repay him, so he decides to let you tend to one of his rose gardens around the temple.

It had been a few days since.

By then, you had warmed up to the deity, spending time with him in the gardens, exchanging stories. Through these interactions, you realise how mellow and soft Yeosang is—usually stories of gods warn of them being picky, petty and sometimes, even wrathful. Yeosang didn’t seem to tick all of these boxes. It seemed like he would rather tend to his myriad rose gardens and caring for his cupids.

“Has anyone told you you’re absolutely beautiful, Yeosang?” You say, missing the way his ears are turning as pink like the roses that lie on his head. The both of you are cutting off the fresh buds that bloomed to collect the petals that afternoon.

Yeosang’s cheeks flushes, rubbing the nape of his neck with a smile. It’s no different from what he always hears, especially as Aphrodite’s descendant, but to hear it from you makes him feel flustered for some reason.

“I mean not just how you look, but the way you treat the things around you.”

“I’m not following”, a confused Yeosang replies, and it makes you giggle.

“I’m saying, you’re gentle and kind too.”

Gentle and kind. Of course he is, considering that has been something he’s been his whole life. It’s well known how much of a temperamental and petty his ascendant had been known to be, and he knows he’s not like that.

Distracted by his thoughts, he feels a sharp pain shoot in his finger. He flinches and pulls his hand away, realising his finger has been cut by a rose thorn.

This has never happened before.

"Are you okay? Let me see-" you interject, taking his hand to inspect if the cut was deep, and you instinctually place his finger against your lips to suck on his skin.

Yeosang's heartbeat is climbing at an exponential rate right now, wondering why do your lips feel so soft. Would it feel as soft if it wasn't just on his fingers? How would you taste against him?

"Are you okay, Yeosang?" your voice snaps him out of his rapidly growing crooked thoughts. His eyes meet yours and he forces a smile, letting himself enjoy the way you're gently stroking his fingers. He thinks it feels nice.

"It doesn't hurt. Don't worry", his voice lowers a pitch, his gaze softening as he watches the way your hands go from stroking his injured finger to playing around with the rest of his fingers, thinking it would help ease the sting.

Yeosang places his hand on your cheek, gently stroking against your skin and his smile spreads to you.

“Thank you. I’ll go and wash the wound. Don’t worry about it, really. It’s just a small cut”, he assures, almost reluctant to leave your side when you let him go, and he walks back to his chambers.

As he rinses his hands, Yeosang's cupid floats to his side, watching the way his deity has his eyes locked onto the maiden.

“You haven't sent her back up, Yeosang. I’ve never seen you do that.”

Yeosang doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know what to reply.

There is silence for a while, as the Cupid watches Yeosang bloom the roses.

“How long will you keep her?”

Yeosang watches the way you smell the roses from his bedroom window. His heart flutters.

“For a little longer.”

You watch the rain fall and hit the leaves from the window of your room. The room is spacious, much too spacious for your liking. It wasn't you that you didn't hate being in the temple, having Yeosang and his little Cupids around were comforting, but during some days, the thorns of being home sick would prick you.

Something is starting to bubble in Yeosang when his thoughts drift to you as night falls. Unfortunately, he seems to have realised it too late.

Undoubtedly, the incident of Yeosang getting pricked by his rose bushes closed the distance between the both you. And that night, you realise you didn’t want to sleep alone.

That night, Yeosang is still up, his concentration on finishing a book he had bought from the mortal realm. Then he hears a soft knock on his open door.

His gazes flies to his door, his heart speeding up when he sees that it’s you standing at his doorway.

“Is it okay for me to intrude?” You ask. “I feel lonely in such a big room.”

Yeosang blinks before remembering to respond.

“Sure. There’s plenty of space on the bed”, he offers, shifting uselessly on the large bed to make space for you. You break into a smile, crawling into his shared space, the comfort of having Yeosang by your side already easing your worries.

“What are you reading?” You ask, peeking over to his book trapped in his long fingers.

He tips the book to show you the cover.

“I got it at the marketplace.”

Your eyes brighten.

“Right! You can travel to the mortal realm”, you remember him briefly mentioning it to you.

He nods. “I can bring you back to the village from time to time to get stuff if you want.”

“You can bring me back?”

“I try to, discreetly, I guess. The mortals in the village for some reason didn’t like it when I brought back one of the maidens back directly once.”

Suddenly, the pieces start to fall into place. It’s all starting to make sense.

Yeosang doesn’t realise he’s frowning. “You…yearn to go back there?” The words taste bitter in his mouth while he waits for your answer.

“Well, I’ve grown rather attached to this place actually. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go back from time to time. You can send me back whenever you’re ready to, Yeosang”, you reply.

Oh gods. Yeosang was internally preparing for the worst but for now, he’s satisfied with whatever arrangement he has with you. He’s never had a maiden stay longer than this, and he’s getting very comfortable with your companionship.

You stifle a yawn, eyelids growing heavy. Your fingers brush against his playfully, and it gets his attention even though his eyes are empty on the pages of his book.

“You’re my favourite thing about this temple”, you mutter, shutting your eyes. Yeosang freezes in his spot, his heart hammering in his chest.

“I think you’re my favourite thing about being a deity”, is his delayed reply. When he turns to gaze upon you, you’re asleep—comfortable and calm—just a hair’s breadth away from him.

That night, he had the most comfortable night of sleep since the past few decades.

Since then, your own bed in your quarters grew cold, and Yeosang’s bed only grew warmer as you continued to seek comfort with the deity.

Yeosang wouldn’t lay his hands on you, even though he was fine with your small touches. He’d grown accustomed to it.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t change the fact that his heartbeat accelerates when he feels you shift closer to him and lean your head against his arm or shoulder—whichever you felt like it—while you join him in reading whatever novel he has his nose buried into.

Your hair brushes gently against his skin again, and it’s making him more jumpy than usual for some reason. Is it the way that he’s conscious of how physically close you are to him? Is it the way that your scent surrounds him like a veil recently? Is it the way your laughter sounds more beautiful than the hymns the harps could play?

He glances down at you, realising you’ve fallen into slumber, your breathing light. Yeosang smiles, his gaze landing on your face.

Then the scent of you hits—sweet and intense—it makes Yeosang’s mind cloud. He feels his body warm up, and his eyes trail down from your face to your bare shoulders—where the strap of your nightgown had slipped past your shoulder—the lace trimming of your nightwear had lowered down your chest, revealing your soft breasts just shy of your nipples—

Fuck. Yeosang’s mind is on its road to being a goner. The discomfort that’s starting to bulge against his robes being the biggest indicator.

He seeps deeper into his twisted fantasies, letting his hand slip down to palm his thickness, groans leaving his lips soft and controlled enough so that he doesn’t wake you up. His suppressed fantasies start to bubble to the surface—flashes of you in between his legs, your tongue lapping his nectar from his base to the tip, then struggling to take his cock full into your pretty mouth. Shit. It’s driving him to the edge. Yeosang swallows hard. He knows that everything about this is so wrong, but he can’t help it. The pleasure trickling into his veins and the risk of getting caught if he’s too loud—it only adds onto the rush that his cock is feeling, and he’s fucking loving it.

The robe is slowly shed off his chiseled body, the speed of his hand fucking his cock increasing when his fantasies start turning to you above him, settling onto his cock, eyes so glazed out and pretty for him while he spilts you open. He dreams of melting into your velvet heat and it only makes more precum leak out of his cockhead while he struggles to keep his breathing slow.

He eyes flutter shut, a strained moan slipping past his lips. He doesn’t know how you’re not being awoken by now, but frankly, he doesn’t care.

And when you shift in your sleep slightly, accompanying your movements with a sleepy groan, it only makes Yeosang’s predicament worse. He watches the way your top has completely slipped down, your nipple growing perky and hard from the cool air. Oh, what he’d do get a taste of it between his lips.

The sounds of his hand fucking grow louder when his thoughts grow wilder when he wonders how you’d taste between your legs—sweet like the nectar of the roses you grow for him maybe.

The precum seeping only grows white and thicker, the sensitivity burning through his body, making Yeosang press his head deeper against his pillows, his hand movements more desperate.

When his fantasies reach to one of you cumming and fluttering with tears in your eyes on his cock, Yeosang bursts with a broken cry of your name, his white and thick cum making a mess of his body and undone robe. His breathing is shaky, staring at the thick cum that stained his hand under the silver moonlight.

It was then the realisation looms over him--there's no way it's possible to send you back up. Not when the need to hear you scream and cry his name is creeping into his veins like the thorny vines of his rose bush.

“With all these roses around, doesn’t Yeosang get sick of the smell?” You ask the Cupid while your hands are busy snipping off the buds.

He shrugs. “I guess he’s used to it.”

The Cupid casts another glance to the rose bush, furrowing his eyebrows, seemingly reflecting his confusion.

“Although, you’re not wrong—the roses recently seem to smell stronger, and I’ve never seen buds this dark before.”

“Something wrong with the roses?” You hear the soft deep voice echo through your ears.

“Yeosang!”, you exclaim, realising the subtle change in him—the roses that sit around his pale hair like flower crown are now as dark as the roses on the rose bush.

You absentmindedly reach out to touch the roses on his hair, amazed by the deep crimson hue. “No, Cupid and I were just mesmerised at how pretty the dark roses are, actually.”

His smile fills your stomach with butterflies.

“Were you? I’m glad you and Cupid seem to like them.”

Yeosang lets his hands linger on your cheek for a moment longer, his warm spreading through your skin.

“I’ll see you tonight as usual, y/n?”

You nod, but for some reason, the expression Yeosang casts you sets a whole cage of butterflies into your stomach.

He’s satisfied with your answer and he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to your temple, the smell of roses floating around you, before he strolls back to his quarters, humming to himself.

For some reason, something feels a little different that night.

You walk into Yeosang’s chambers as usual, as you always do. He has his novel in his hands, but his eyes glance at you at his doorway the moment he feels your presence.

You slide into his bed, like you always have done, noticing the comforting warmth that the deity radiated seemed slightly a little hotter than usual. But you attribute it to the fact that it had been pouring quite a bit lately, including tonight.

The moment you crawled into Yeosang's space, he has his palm spread over your exposed thigh, his warmth spreading across your skin.

“Isn't someone eager today”, you tease, absentmindedly returning his touch, much to Yeosang's surprise.

“It's been cold lately, and your warmth is the only thing I've grown used to”, Yeosang replies with a gentle smile, and it makes your stomach burst with butterflies.

“As with you”, you giggle, inching closer to the male.

Yeosang reflects your bloom with a soft smile, before his attention returns to his book. You rest yourself against his arm, as you always do.

This night, Yeosang realises he can't concentrate on reading, not when he's hyper aware of the floral shampoo that's emitting off you. You've always been using the same floral shampoo, so why does the smell seem to come off stronger this time?

His thoughts are then interrupted when he hears you soft sigh as you shift your weight against his arm, his eyes locked at the way the strap of your nightgown slips past your shoulder once more, the gown dropping slightly lower, barely revealing your soft and perky nipples.

Yeosang doesn't realise his fingers are clamping onto the pages, hard.

He averts his gaze back to the book that he knows it's pointless to get back to, so he shuts it.

Your eyes rake over his bothered expression, and your mind swims with worry.

“Are you okay, Yeosang?”

Yeosang turns his attention to you, forcing a smile. His words come out uncertain, “of course. I just need a breather. Give me a second, y/n.” He drops the book onto his nightstand before he leaves the bed to the balcony. You decide it's best to leave him be, while you keep yourself busy with the pile of books Yeosang bought for you on his nightstand.

Yeosang is barely confident that he's finally composed himself, but he decides to enter his room once he feels his heart gradually slow. He brushes off the crimson rose petals that had landed on his shoulder.

Since when have his petals gotten this red?

He returns back to his room, and all of that self preservation immediately falls apart when the view before him on his bed is you–relaxed, with the sheets off you, your bare legs in full view for him to take in, your sheer nightgown bunched up to your thighs as your nose is deep into your novel.

Yeosang remains silent as he inches towards to your side of the bed, and his movements definitely catch your attention. You look up and your eyes meet his, trailing him as he slowly settles down right in front of you.

“Can I help you?” You tease, shutting the book. Yeosang doesn't answer, but rather, he lets his fingers dance along your leg, and up until he pauses at your knee.

You watch the way his eyes glimmer against the moonlight, then how it highlights his features like a marble statue.

He's leaning closer.

His eyes are downcast for a second before they find the resolve to meet yours.

“Could I…?” he mutters, shyness reflected in his gaze.

His palm is flat against your knee now, and he's warm to the touch.

You're suddenly feeling curious yet shy. You lower your gaze when you feel his palm press against your cheek, then lean in. His hands feel like comfort. Your eyes flutter open and you meet Yeosang’s stare.

His mind is going haywire when you look at him like that.

There is tension in the air, silence so loud you could hear two hearts fluttering if you listened hard enough.

“Please”, you reply softly, loud enough for him to hear.

Before you could process it, Yeosang leans in for a deep kiss, determined to steal your breath and heart away as his lips collide against yours. He traps you against the bed, and your hands are around his neck, slowly lingering on his soft locks of hair.

Red petals are slowly filling up the white spaces on the white sheets as Yeosang grows greedy–he’s pulled away from your lips, now he's messing with your cheek, then your jawline, then down your neck. His hands are going down. You gasp when you feel him cup your breasts. There's no way he doesn't feel your nipples grow harder through the thin fabric, and he makes full use of it to pinch and roll in between his fingertips, the sparks going right to your soaked pussy.

Yeosang lets you off momentarily, and the strange glint in his eyes don't go unnoticed by you. Too caught up in the moment though, you let him continue with whatever he wants to do. He continues kissing down south, teasing you with the fact that he's not letting his lips touch your skin directly. Every soft gasp and sigh he hears from you is his reward.

Then, he stops right at the wet patch of fabric in between your legs.

You swear his eyes form hearts.

“You're already so wet for me?” He asks, which doesn't come off much as a question. His finger grazes along the damp fabric, and the wetness spreads even more. It’s driving Yeosang off the edge. You're driving Yeosang off the edge.

All Yeosang is thinking is that you're such a perfect gift. He wouldn't have asked for more.

The perfect offering.

Perfect for him to ruin.

A thought crosses Yeosang’s mind–how far can he get your thin and useless panties soaked? He nuzzles against the warm and sticky fabric, trying his best to ignore the way his cock is just painfully throbbing to be let out.

“Yeosang–!” You cry out, accidentally flattening some of the roses in his hair when the sensitivity bursts dully in your pussy.

You're suddenly feeling self-conscious even though your mind is slowly sinking into the sins Yeosang is gravitating you into.

Your cunt is getting soaked by the second, to the point your panties have pretty much grown transparent, so sticky and wet from your cream.

It doesn't change the fact that worries still flicker in and out of your mind.

You're not a virgin. Would Yeosang approve of that? Would he be disgusted that you aren't?

You feel his fingers slither up your thighs, his thump hooking onto the waistband of your panties before he completely pulls your panties off, your pulsing wet pussy blooming like the most gorgeous flower Yeosang's ever seen.

Before Yeosang’s ready to reward himself, you squeeze your thighs, stopping him.

He looks up at you, his eyes slowly glazed over, waiting for you to let him.

How is he so patient?

“I’m not a virgin—“

“It doesn't matter, darling”, Yeosang cuts you off while he presses his nose against your supple thighs, taking in a sharp inhale, letting your scent turn him dizzy. “I’ve always dreamed of hearing you scream my name when I’m fucking you.”

You struggle to keep your breathing in check, dazed and taking in this newfound side of Yeosang that seemingly bloomed from nowhere.

“I'll make you feel so good, darling”, he promises, a teasing lick just to the side of your pussy, and your rationale completely dissolves.

Yeosang pulls your legs apart, smiling against your skin when you don't offer resistance, then he presses his tongue against your wet cunt.

You taste like heaven, is what is repeating in Yeosang’s head, over and over. He wants to make sure he sucks you dry. You squirm against him, the pleasure building recklessly whenever Yeosang drives his tongue against your clit, your moans turning into a mix of cries. Your wetness isn't drying up anytime soon, that's for sure.

“So fucking good. Y-Yeosang…”, your lashes are wet, and with every flick of his tongue on your clit, it builds so fucking good that your legs have completely spread open for Yeosang, your cunt shamelessly leaking more creamy nectar for Yeosang to indulge in. He brings his tongue up to your clit once more, dragging the soft muscle against it.

“You're so close, aren't you? Your sweetness is just getting better”, Yeosang hums.

Your fingers clutch against the soft pillows under you, your mind slowly starts to blank and break. It feels so fucking good that Yeosang has to hold your hips down so he can tongue fuck you better.

“Be a good girl for me–cum as hard as you want.”

A choked sob echoes in his chambers while you go completely undone–shaking and pulsing against his tongue, your vision washed out by white as the pleasure seeps into each nerve and crevice of your brain.

Yeosang is still lapping your cream up, dizzy from how you cummed all over his face. He really wants to make you do that over and over again until you break.

The remnants of your orgasm and the overstimulation has you twitching in the best ways possible. You halt Yeosang–stealing his attention with your fingers under his chin. Yeosang looks up at you, burying his cheek against your palm while his tongue peeks out past his lips to lick the off the remainder of your cream on his face. Your thumb caresses his soft cheek and Yeosang appeases you for a moment before he climbs over you, his palm covering your wrist, guiding you down to the knot of his robe. Your fingers grab onto the loose end and you tug–his robe completely loosens. He leans in closer, letting your hands wander his body, flicking the robe away until Yeosang is fully naked before you.

He's nothing short of a marble statue–everything about him is completely ethereal. As much as you’re admiring his bare body, your eyes can't help but wander to his thick cock. Even his cock is so pretty especially when it's glistening and hard, in a sheen of precum.

His voice is deeper now and it tickles your ears.

“I don't think I can go slow on you, my love”, Yeosang mutters, before he presses his lips onto the back of your hand. His crimson eyes meet yours, and your heart skips a beat.

“I don't wanna.”

He fits a pillow under your hips, and his cock is easily resting right at your pulsing, wet hole.

“Wanna feel you all the way, Yeosang. You can go as deep as you want”, you whisper, just craving to be fucked now.

Yeosang smiles in reply, before he lines himself to your cunt and pushes himself in an inch or two.

A curt “fuck” slips past your lips, and your abdomen tenses once Yeosang starts fitting more of himself into your tight hole.

“Gods, you feel so fucking amazing. So fucking warm for me”, Yeosang curses, his fingertips pressing onto your hips to keep any remainder of his sanity intact.

When he finally has his dick fully fit in you, you look like you're about to cry.

His fingers brush your cheek.

“Are you okay there?”

You nod. “You just feel so full in me.” Yeosang laughs, then groans when you squeeze him again.

“I'm gonna start moving.”

The lewd sounds of skin slapping start filling up the room once more, one wetter than the other.

His thrusts have you clawing the sheets once more, eyes rolled back and pussy clamping him down for more.

He grunts at the way you're squeezing him.

“I'll fill you up so good, my love. Make you so swollen–full of my pretty little offspring just for you to bear”, he mutters in your ear.

Your head is spinning as the pleasure builds up in your abdomen once more every time his cock hits your g-spot. The thought of Yeosang making sure you're leaking full of his seed, that he wants to breed you so badly throws out any rational thought out of your head. You want it so fucking bad too.

“You feel so better than heaven, you know?” He manages, the thread of his rationale thinning the more he's fucking into you. “I really want you all to myself.”

His thrusts are getting heavier and every time his cockhead presses onto your g-spot, it sends you into an orbit. You're seeing fucking stars or flowers–they’re starting to look the fucking same at this rate.

“Yeosang!”, you cry out, your toes curling from the pleasure hitting you over and over again. You leave light marks down his pale skin. Your cunt has him tight in you, and it makes him dazed. His moans are filling up your ears while his cum fills up your pussy.

The high slowly descends, leaving both of you catching your breaths, his face in your hands, eyes locked onto each other. You watch the dark red in his eyes slowly lighten but still remain red.

Had he always donned such deep red eyes?

“How are you feeling?” He asks, letting his fingers travel down the curves of your body.

You giggle tiredly, “a little sleepy.”

He covers your eyes with his slender fingers. “Then rest

Yeosang stares at the way you slowly sink into your slumber, huddled close to him.

He brushes away the blood red rose petals that fall on your shoulders.

I can’t help it if I adore you this much. I’m keeping you for a little longer. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, right?

💘bonus epilogue💘

Yeosang knew he was about to be chided for always escaping his duties by hiding in the mortal world. Not that Eros would care anyway.

No human comes around here, and that’s another reason why Yeosang loves this specific spot. If he’s feeling slightly more daring, he might hide himself amongst the mortals while he window shops at the marketplace, but for today, relaxing is on itinerary instead.

He walks over to his usual tree, humming to himself.

Then he stops himself in his tracks, his eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. Someone is already occupying his tree. He watches the maiden hum to herself, her hands busy with picking flowers and she sits the stalks on her lap.

Unfortunately, Yeosang is the last deity to be confrontational, and he’s ready to just turn and leave—

“Oh gods! You’re breathtaking.”

He stops in his tracks, and turns back slowly.

His finger points to himself accompanied with a confused expression he wears.

“Me?”

He’s only met with laughter that sounded like sun rays when dawn first breaks.

“I’m sorry. I probably scared you. It’s just, I’ve seen you a couple of times here, and I’ve always wanted ask—has anyone told you that you’re beautiful?”

Plenty.

You laugh again. It tickles Yeosang’s ears.

“You’ve probably heard it many times. But I still want to say it—you’re beautiful.”

That day Yeosang hums a wonderful tune that even Cupid has never heard before. His attention goes back to tending his rose garden, his slender fingers getting busy, brushing against the bud of the roses, blooming them full.

He notices Cupid's surprised gaze, before he plucks a rose bud out to hand it to him.

“What's wrong, Cupid? Never seen a red rose before?”

Cupid furrows his eyebrows, his gaze reflecting confusion on top of curiosity before he shakes his head in reply.

“Yeosang…this is the first time I'm seeing you bloom red roses.”

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covenofagatha · 2 months ago

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Two professors and a student (part 6)

This is the longest thing I've ever written so please enjoy

Word count: 4300

Warnings: fingering, oral, semi-public, orgasm denial, implied overstimulation, strap-on, edging maybe?, bondage, sex toys, reader is a brat, voyeurism

It’s been a week since the spring semester started, and you’ve barely seen Rio and Agatha at all.

You had spent practically the entire holiday break entangled between the two of them in their bed.

Or on their couch. On their table. Even in the shower.

The memory makes you blush and you can feel your clit start to pulse because you haven’t been touched in days.

The beginning of the semester was always a frantic time for professors, which you soon found out. While you were chilling with your syllabus quizzes in most of your classes, Agatha and Rio were already emailing back and forth with students and dealing with those who were adding or dropping and working on their lectures.

You hadn’t even tried to set up a time to get dinner or hang out because you didn’t want to add more to their plates. You figured when they had some free time, they would reach out.

But today, you’re tired of the waiting. You are needy and desperate, and feeling like a little bit of a brat.

So after your one class for the day, you stroll to Rio’s office. You try the younger woman first, thinking you might have better luck. Rio seems to at least appreciate taking a break from her work every now and then and she might be in a generous mood.

You knock on the door and wait for her to tell you to come in. Pushing it open, you find Rio at the window, pouring a cup of water into a vase with beautiful flowers.

“Forget me not,” she says, glancing at you and then back to the plant. Is she telling you to not forget her?

You don’t think you could.

“What?” You ask, stepping inside and letting the door close.

She walks back to her chair and sits, lounging back to assess you. “The flowers. They’re called Forget-me-nots.”

You nod. “Ah.” Sometimes it feels like Rio is having a completely different conversation with you than the one you think you’re having.

She smirks. “What’s up, doll? Having a good start to the semester?” You pout dramatically and slowly saunter over to her side of the desk and lean against it.

“Yeah, it’s been alright, I’m just a little stressed already and I haven’t seen you or Agatha in awhile, so I thought I’d come pop by,” you say, your voice dripping with suggestion.

Rio’s tongue presses against the inside of your cheek, a quirk you find yourself always entranced by, and she chuckles in amusement. She pushes her chair back and turns it so she’s facing you directly.

“Thought you’d come pop by to…just say hi?” She says, eyebrows raising like she knows what you want but she’s going to make you work for it.

Luckily, you’re prepared for this. Getting what you want with these women is never easy, but you’ve learned.

“Well,” you start coyly, head tilting to the side and giving her your best sad doe eyes. “I was hoping I could do a little more than ‘say hi.’ I’ve missed you. It’s been so long since we’ve spent some quality time together.”

“Doll, these are my office hours. Anyone could walk in right now,” Rio warns, but the look on her face tells you that she doesn’t really care.

“I can lock the door,” you say, sounding a little too eager.

She studies you with her intense gaze, eyes raking up and down over your body, and you fight the urge to squirm. “You’re such a desperate slut, aren’t you? Coming in here when anyone could walk in, begging to be fucked. You’d probably like it if someone saw, wouldn’t you?”

Your lips part, a forced exhale coming out of them, and your eyes glaze over at the thought. You’re not sure if Rio’s going to give in though, so you play your one last card.

Shrugging dismissively, you wait until she leans forward a bit, encouraging you on. “If you’re too busy, I’m sure I could go find someone else to spend quality time with,” you say, and her eyes flash just like you’d hoped.

Whether you’re talking about Agatha or a random stranger, Rio doesn’t care to find out.

She reaches out, grabs the belt loops on your jeans, and pulls you forward so you crash onto her lap. She makes quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts and she slides her hand inside.

“Wow, doll, you’re soaked,” she says and your sensitive clit pulses when she presses against it. You whimper, the urgency of the situation also affecting you, and she shoves two fingers inside you.

Your head drops back at the stretch and your heartbeat quickens while you wait for her to fuck you so well, like she always does, but she doesn’t move.

“Rio,” you whine, pleading for her to do something.

An evil smirk spreads across her face. “Oh, no, doll. You’re the one who wanted this so badly, so you’re the one who’s going to do something about it.”

You grunt in frustration but begin to ride her fingers, bouncing up and down faster. Your arms wrap around her neck for leverage as she holds her hand still and leans back to watch you appreciatively.

“Rio, please,” you beg. While it feels good, it’s really hard for you to get her fingers deep enough to the right spot like this, and she’s not even touching your clit. “I need more, I can’t.” You roll your hips to no avail, the pleasure staying the same.

She huffs, mouth twisting into a cruel smile. “Too bad, slut. This is all you get.”

You grumble in frustration, forcing your hips down as far as they’ll go to take her fingers as deep as you can get, and rut back and forth. This position works a little better and you can at least feel the sensation in your body heightening.

You also find that grinding against her hand like that also means her palm is right against your clit and you’re finally able to get somewhere.

“There we go, doll. You’re so smart, I knew you’d figure it out eventually,” she drawls but you’re exerting yourself so much chasing your high that you can’t respond. You can feel yourself getting closer and your walls begin to flutter more around her fingers, and from her tell-tale smirk, she knows it too.

You’re just about to crash over the wall of pleasure and cum when she finally moves.

But not in the way you’ve been wanting.

Her fingers pull out of you faster than you can blink and her hand swipes across your face, smearing your wetness over your lips.

“What?” You cry, completely dumbfounded, tongue instinctively darting out to lick, and she laughs.

“Do you think a brat like you deserves to cum?” She asks and you nod furiously, willing to do anything it takes to get her to put her hand back between your legs. But she grabs your waist and gently shoves you off until you’re standing again. “Well I don’t. Now get out of my office, I have work to do.”

Disappointed, and still massively turned on, you decide to see Agatha in her office. It might take a little more coaxing with her, but you bet that if you work hard enough, you could wind up with her fingers in you as well.

And Agatha never leaves a job unfinished.

When you push open the door to her office, she’s in the middle of reading something, chewing on her pen in her left hand.

You’re not sure why, but the fact that the older woman is left handed does something to you that you can’t quite explain.

She looks up, and her face brightens. “Hey, sweetheart, what brings you over here?”

“Nothing much, just wanted to say hi. It’s been a bit,” you say sweetly, walking over to her desk to lean against it, just like you did with Rio. Agatha instantly pushes back to give you more space. She gives you a soft smile.

“I know, baby. Rio and I were thinking maybe we could all do something this weekend? If you’re free of course. We just know how busy we’ve been and we feel bad that we’ve been neglecting you.”

Her words are coated in sugar and they make you feel so much better, and normally, those would be enough to satiate you for now, but your brain is completely fogged with desire.

You frown. “This weekend? But that’s so far away.” You drag the word out petulantly, making her laugh.

“Aw, poor baby,” she mocks. “Is someone not getting enough attention while Rio and I are working?”

You stick out your bottom lip and shake your head, trying to look as pathetic as possible, hoping she takes pity. “You could make it up to me right now?” You offer.

“What would Rio think?” Agatha whispers conspiratorially and you debate whether or not to tell her that you don’t think she’d mind as her girlfriend’s fingers were just buried inside you.

But you don’t want to risk Agatha getting upset.

“I won’t say anything,” you say instead. Agatha thinks for a second and looks back at the pile of papers on her desk, worrying on her bottom lip. You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Why don’t we make a deal?” She says, turning back to you, and your spirits jump. “Get on your knees under this desk and if you can make me cum before I’m done grading these papers, I’ll reward you.”

You fall down to the floor so hard that you can feel the impact in your teeth but you don’t even wince and crawl so you’re where she wants you. You know why she did that; the desk completely covers any sign of you, so if someone were to walk in, you would be totally out of sight.

A little different than Rio, who let you ride her fingers in plain view, door unlocked. You both could’ve been in serious trouble had someone interrupted.

Agatha’s wearing a dress so it’s easy to hike up the hem to her hips. You gently blow over her underwear, smile as you watch her shiver, and turn your head to leave a trail of kisses over her inner thigh. Her hand comes down to tangle into your hair and she yanks it roughly.

“I would hurry up if I were you,” she hisses. “I only have about ten more of these to grade.”

Sufficiently spurred on by her warning, you pull her underwear to the slide and drag your tongue forcefully up her slit, making her hips jump. You moan at her salty taste and her musky smell that fills your nostrils.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” she chuckles and you lay off on the pressure a little while you lap at her clit. You can hear her make little gasps, but you can still hear her pen scribbling, so you lick even harder.

There’s the crinkling of paper and a louder moan, and you smirk into her pussy. Her hand tightens in your hair, a silent message, and you move down to dip your tongue into her opening and stroke against her walls. You’ve realized that you’re also making noises, but they’re muffled by her body.

And then there’s a knock on the door and you jerk so much that your head hits the desk above you. You bite back a strangled groan as her hand swats your cheek and then it retreats back up on top of the desk.

“Come in!” Agatha says, voice shaky and she clears her throat. You grin to yourself.

“Hi, uh, Professor Harkness?” It’s a man, a student of hers, if the nervous twinge in his tone is any indication.

“Yes, that’s me,” she snaps out, maybe harsher than she intended it to.

She shifts in her chair and you realize that her legs are still partly open. A wicked idea runs through you and you gently pry her thighs apart even more. She tenses under you, and you freeze, just to make sure she doesn’t want you to stop.

And then she opens them wider and your heart almost stops.

“I had a question about the syllabus,” the kid says and you roll your eyes. Poor Agatha and Rio for having to deal with incompetent students. At least you might be able to help her here.

You suck her clit between your lips and take a great deal of pleasure in how her voice breaks in the middle of her sentence. You can only hear tidbits of their conversation with Agatha’s thighs crushing your head (what a way to go, though) but you think you can hear her words getting higher and higher as you continue your administrations on her pussy.

You thrust your tongue inside her hole as far as it goes and curve it, and you hear her break into a loud fit of coughing, presumably to hide a moan. You speed up and suck harder on her clit, scraping your teeth against it just to see if it does the same for her as it does for her girlfriend, and you’re delighted when it does.

Agatha’s legs tremble and her walls clench around your tongue the next time you lick inside. Your jaw starts to hurt but your face is drenched with her wetness and you don’t dream of stopping.

And you can tell she’s getting close.

“Thank you very much, Professor,” you hear the kid say, sounding far away. “I hope you feel better.” Then there’s the sound of the door closing.

You laugh into her pussy with your tongue inside her and the vibrations send her over the edge. She cums all over your face, free now to make noise and grind her cunt on your mouth.

You continue softly licking, even slurping once or twice, just so she’s completely cleaned up while she slumps against her chair. When you finally look up at her, she’s already staring at you, eyebrow raised.

“I made you cum before you finished grading the papers,” you say proudly and she snorts.

“That was a dangerous game you played,” she says lowly, fingers wiping her wetness off your cheeks and sticking them into your mouth. You suck, flicking your tongue around them, never breaking eye contact until you finally see a hint of a smile from her.

You sit back on your heels. “A deal is a deal.”

She chuckles darkly. “It sure is. Why don’t you come sit on the desk?”

You’ve never moved so fast in your life, scrambling to your feet and then plopping down, legs already spreading. She stands up so you have to look up at her and then her fingers are opening your jeans.

There’s a mutual gasp when she first slides her hands into your underwear, her from how absolutely soaked you are, and you from how close you already are. Being denied by Rio and then making Agatha cum has you positively dripping.

“Someone liked that,” she muses, sliding a finger into you. Your back arches and you let out a throaty groan. You know it won’t take very long for you to cum at all and it’s the only thing you need right now.

She pushes a second finger in you, and then a third, and she stretches you out so nicely and curls her fingers and rubs your clit with your thumb and you’re so close, so close, reaching the edge –

– and she stops.

Your eyes fly open to find her smirking at you. Before you can say a word, and in remarkably close fashion to her girlfriend, she pulls her fingers out of you and you clench around nothing.

“Why?” You wail. How is this the second time this has happened in less than an hour?

Agatha grabs your jaw and forces you to look straight at her. “That’s for your little stunt under the desk.”

You gape at her. “I gave you a chance to stop me, I paused and you opened your legs!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says innocently and you whine, hands scrambling for purchase on the front of her dress, trying to pull her back into you. “Now you better get going, I have a meeting in ten minutes. And stop pouting, fix your face before I do it for you.”

You roll your eyes, dropping the pitiful act, button up your pants, and storm out of the classroom.

It’s two hours later and you’re still stewing over being refused an orgasm twice when you get a text from Rio: We’re outside your dorm. Come down.

You debate pretending to not be home, but ultimately respond that you’ll be down in a minute.

They better be fully prepared to make it up to you.

“Hey, baby girl,” Agatha says when you slam the door to the backseat shut and you know immediately that something is wrong.

“Hey,” you answer tentatively.

“How was your day?” Rio asks.

Hang on.

Are they acting weird because they both don’t know that you had sex with each of them? And they’re trying to keep it a secret from each other?

You feel like you can breathe a little easier now. “Pretty good. How about you guys? Finish all your work?”

You can play this game too.

They both hum in response and nothing else is said on the way to their house. It’s strange and you begin to get the prickly feeling on the back of your neck, like you’ve just wandered into their trap.

When Agatha parks, you wait for them to get out of the car before you do and you follow them inside and up to their bedroom.

“What’s going on?” You dare to ask.

They share a look and then glance back at you. “Isn’t this what you wanted, doll?” Rio asks. “The both of us?”

Your mouth goes dry and you eagerly nod. They both chuckle and Rio walks over to grab something from the nightstand where they keep their toys. Your breathing quickens, immediately back in the same lustful state you were earlier.

And then Agatha flips you around by the shoulders and Rio ties silk around your wrists to bind them. You struggle and look at them, shock written all over your face.

“You think you can mess with both of us?” Rio says into your ear, shoving you onto the bed by the arm. You almost fall back without the use of your hands but you manage to keep your balance. “You think acting like a brat will give you what you want?”

Agatha trails a finger lightly down your cheek and you try to open your mouth to catch it but she pulls away too fast. “Imagine my surprise,” she says and you know that this won’t be good. “When Rio told me that you stopped by her office earlier begging for her fingers. And after she didn’t let you cum, you came to me, hoping I would give you the relief you so desperately needed.”

Rio comes back into view with a strap and a harness and you gasp sharply. She hands it to Agatha, who pulls up her dress and steps into it.

“And when I heard what you had done to Agatha,” Rio starts, breaking off to giggle darkly. “I knew what we needed to do.”

“See, a brat like you needs to be put in her place. Shown what happens when you misbehave,” Agatha taunts, fastening the harness so the purple cock juts out from her hips.

“You know what happens when you misbehave, doll?” Rio asks, dropping her pants to the ground and revealing her pale white legs.

You squirm against the bed and your restraints, needing to touch or to be touched. “What?” You whisper.

Agatha leads Rio over to the vanity in the bedroom and bends her over on the counter so that their backs are to you.

But they’re looking into a mirror. Your breath catches in your throat when they both lock eye contact with you through their reflections.

“You don’t get fucked,” Agatha says, rubbing the toy up and down Rio’s folds. “You just have to watch. And just in case you get out of those restraints and try to touch yourself, we’re watching you the whole time.”

You moan involuntarily at the memory of you disobeying their orders the first night you slept with them.

How it had led to four orgasms.

But you’re quickly pulled from the memory of that when Agatha begins to slowly push into Rio, the younger woman’s head falling forward onto her elbows.

“Uh uh,” Agatha tuts and pulls her hair so that her face is looking in the mirror again. You feel a thrill run through you when you meet Rio’s eyes that are glazed over with pleasure. “Keep your eyes on her and why don’t you tell her how good I’m making you feel? Just so our little brat knows exactly what she’s missing out on.”

You whimper but you can’t move because you’re so enthralled by the sight when Agatha starts to pick up her face.

“Oh god, you feel so good inside me,” Rio moans and you want to cry. Heat has settled into every crack and crevice in your body and your head feels dizzy. “Aggie, your cock, oh god, fucking me so good, please don’t stop, right there.”

It’s like you can feel it too, the overbearing pleasure you are sure is washing over her.

“Taking my cock so well,” Agatha grunts, slapping Rio’s ass and Rio groans. “This is what happens when you’re a good girl.” Your eyes dart up to meet Agatha’s in the mirror and you can see her smirk. “When you behave, you get rewards. When you’re a brat, you get punished.”

You exhale in time with Agatha’s thrusts into her girlfriend and you ever so slightly dare to grind your hips on the bed. The seam in your shorts lines up directly with your clit so you’re able to get the slightest bit of relief.

“So good, Aggie, gonna cum all over your cock, you’re fucking me so good,” Rio keens and you’ve never heard her be this vocal before. You know it’s just because Agatha told her to rub it in, but it’s turning you on so fucking much you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a puddle on the bed through your jeans.

You switch between looking at both their faces in the mirror and the toy sliding in and out of Rio’s pussy with ease. It is such a delicious sight that you want to drop to your knees, crawl over, and hold your tongue there just to feel it.

“Please, Aggie, please, right there, gonna cum, fuck baby, so good,” Rio chants and your face burns. You’ll never get tired of watching one of them cum, it’s the hottest thing ever. But you’ve also never felt an ache so deep in your bones like this one.

You think if one of them touched your clit, you might spontaneously combust.

“Come on my cock,” Agatha growls, somehow thrusting even faster into her. The sound it makes when Agatha slams all the way in and claps against Rio’s ass echoes in your head, along with Rio’s tiny gasps and Agatha’s pants of exertion. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

How are you overstimulated when there’s nothing even happening to you? Can you cum without being touched? You wonder if you’re about to find out.

Rio’s entire body convulses and this time, Agatha allows her to drop her head down while the older woman continues to move in and out of her. You’re practically shuddering on the bed from need.

“Poor slut,” Rio chuckles weakly, observing you in the reflection. “Who knew watching would get you so desperate.Think we have a little voyeur on our hands.”

Agatha pulls out and you feel yourself clench as you see Rio’s swollen and red pussy looking thoroughly ruined. Agatha turns to you and your mouth falls open, a stream of begs and pleas for them to touch you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she says, walking to the nightstand again and pulling out another silk ribbon and a vibrator. You gulp as she comes back near you and you move further onto the bed. “Did you finally learn your lesson about misbehaving?”

You nod. “Yes, Agatha, I’ll be good, I promise, just please let me cum.”

“Oh, we’re going to let you cum alright,” Rio says with a smirk, coming over to hold your legs open. Before you can ask what they’re doing, Agatha turns the vibrator on and presses it against your clit.

Something akin to the noise a dying animal makes escapes your mouth and pleasure washes over you as you cum immediately.

But she doesn’t take it off.

Instead, she positions it so it rests against your pussy by itself and then Rio ties your legs together with the silk so tightly that your clit has direct stimulation.

You try to force words out but you’re already close to cumming again. You try to move so that you can get the vibrations to ease up, but there’s no moving with the restraints on your wrists and ankles.

You are truly bound.

“You wanted to cum so badly, angel,” Agatha says, walking to the door with Rio in tow. “You’re going to get as many orgasms as you could possibly want.”

You gasp, tears already pricking in your eyes, as you cum again.

Rio smirks and gives you a wave. “See you in a bit.”

And then they’re gone.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along #agatha x rio #rio vidal x agatha harkness #rio vidal x reader #agathario #agathario x reader #rio x reader

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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄

“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”

Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.

“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”

It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”

She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.

You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.

“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”

You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.

“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”

She seemed satisfied with that answer.

“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”

She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.

“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”

Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.

“I’m going to take these up to my room.”

“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.

After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.

You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.

Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…

You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.

Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.

Trying to do the right thing.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.

She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.

“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”

They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.

“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”

You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.

“Sarah…”

She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.

“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”

You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.

“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”

Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.

“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”

With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.

“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.

It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.

“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”

“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”

Your eyes widened.

“Sarah…”

Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.

“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”

The other girl trailed off as he spoke.

“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”

She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.

“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”

“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”

You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.

You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.

“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”

His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.

“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.

The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.

“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.

Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.

“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”

“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.

His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.

For your sake.

With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.

Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.

“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”

The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.

However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.

Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.

Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.

“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”

It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.

“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”

Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.

“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.

“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”

The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.

“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”

“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.

You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.

When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.

You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.

“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.

You hated the way it fell.

“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”

“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.

“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.

By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.

“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”

“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.

Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.

“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”

“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.

You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”

You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.

“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”

She perked up.

“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”

“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”

“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”

You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.

“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”

You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.

“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”

Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.

Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.

JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.

“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”

“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”

He frowned, glancing away.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”

“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.

JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.

“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”

You scoffed.

“Don’t try to turn this around-!”

“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”

You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.

“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”

You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.

“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”

With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.

“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”

Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.

It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.

…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.

You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.

You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.

“I’m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”

Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.

“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.

“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”

She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.

“He always is,” she snidely replied.

At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.

“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”

Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.

“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”

She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.

“It’s probably not that simple.”

At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.

“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”

Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.

“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.

You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.

The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.

Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.

“Here, give him these.”

She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.

“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”

John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.

“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.

Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.

“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.

Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”

You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.

“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.

Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”

The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.

“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”

You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.

Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.

“That’s not an excuse-.”

“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.

He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.

“That’s different,” you argued.

JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.

“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”

You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.

“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”

You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.

“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”

“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.

When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.

“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”

You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.

“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”

You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.

“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.

JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.

“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”

Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.

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paigestrap · 10 months ago

Text

the surprise

anon requested

paige x fem!reader

warnings: smut (minors dni), lingerie, swearing

~3k words

summary:

you plan a surprise for paige but it gets ruined when she flakes to hang out with her teammates. realizing her mistake, she makes it up to you.

enjoy yall i made this instead of writing my 15 page essay 😵😵😵

you were so excited...

you had planned a surprise date with p for the entire day, it was your way of thanking her for the many amazing dates she would take u on and you couldn’t wait to spend the entire day with her. it was one of her days off and she had told you yesterday that she was super excited to spend the entire day with you. unfortunately, your plans and day were ruined when she had texted you this afternoon.

p: hey baby ik i said id hang out with u today but ice and kk have been begging me all day to do something with them do u mind if i go see a movie with them and then get food? i promise i'm all yours tonight ;)

fuck. your stomach dropped and suddenly all your excitement for your plans faded away. you didn’t know what to say to her, you really wanted to spend this time with her and you had made a big effort planning this surprise for her but you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t spend time with her friends.

but you were also kind of… mad? it hurt you that even though she spends all her time with her teammates and sees them at practice almost everyday she would rather spend her free time with them than with you. it may have been a toxic mindset but it still bothered you. you decided to go with a passive aggressive response.

you: sure, see u later.

you sighed as you collected yourself, putting away the groceries you bought to make her dinner. and filling up a vase with water for the roses whose pedals you had planned to sprinkle in the bath after dinner. you hang your newly purchased lingerie set in the closet, feeling silly for going out of your way to do all this just to be let down. you changed into pajamas and threw a frozen meal in the microwave, preparing yourself for a day full of sulking and watching reality tv.

you saw that paige had responded to your message, but you turned your phone off, not wanting to respond to her. you sat in front of the tv and put on some shitty show while you pulled out your laptop to do some homework (aka what the writer of this fic should be doing right now instead of writing this 😭). at some point you drift off to sleep.

knock.

u woke with a start, not even realizing you had fallen asleep or how much time had gone by, getting up to answer your door.

it was your girlfriend with a look of worry and annoyance, soaking wet and panting at your doorstep.

“why haven’t you been responding? i called u three times and texted you a bunch???” she questioned you, the worry had mostly faded into annoyance as she realized you were perfectly fine.

“oh, sorry i haven’t been on my phone, i guess i fell asleep” you answered to your very unsatisfied looking girlfriend.

“you can’t just send me some passive aggressive text and then ignore me for two hours. that’s unfair babe, you’d be so upset if i did that to u” she said, exasperated. she was clearly upset with you, but you didn’t care to be honest because you were also upset. you decided then you should tell her how you feel.

“it’s not fair that on your day off you decide to spend time with the teammates you see everyday instead of your girlfriend who you can barely make time to see as is. i understand they’re your best friends and spending time with them is important to you but i was so excited to spend the day with you i even planned a surprise for you and i was just feeling really neglected,” you watch as her expression softens. she walks in, and gives you a hug and kisses your head. you hate to admit it but her display of affection and attention made you feel a lot better.

“you’re absolutely right, baby. i was a dick for that. i had a feeling you were hurt by the way you responded. i just got really worried when you were ignoring me and shit i literally left in the middle of the movie and ran here in the rain” she admits to you, still holding you and running her hand up and down your back. “i didn’t know you had something planned for us. i’m so sorry you must’ve been so disappointed and upset i know that’s how i would’ve felt so i’m so sorry i made you feel that way”

you move to look up into her eyes, sincerity plastered on her face, and your annoyance and anger towards her began to fade away. “it’s okay, you didn’t know that i had planned something for us and i was just being petty. i should’ve told u that i was bothered so it’s my fault for not being honest with you. i was just hurt,” knowing that all it took for you to feel better was admitting how you felt and her apologizing made you feel silly for ignoring her earlier in the day. this could’ve all been avoided if you had just told her how you felt.

“its okay baby i understand. if i'm not too late, id like to make it up to you. what was it that you had planned?” she smiled at you, still holding you in her arms.

“well, i was going to cook you dinner, and then i bought all these roses so we could take a romantic bath together and then, well, i had another surprise for later” you start to blush, remembering the set hanging in your closet that you bought with her in mind. you hide your shy smile by burying your face into her chest.

“oh yeah? what’s that, do i still get that surprise too?” she grinned mischievously, clearly understanding the nature of your last surprise,

“i haven’t decided yet, let’s first see if you can make it up to me,” you joke with her, knowing in the back of your head that the night would end with the set on your body and paige inside you.

“fair enough,” she laughed, also seeming to know the future. “can i help you cook at least? what’s on the menu?” finally breaking the embrace she makes her way to the fridge to look at what you had bought to make dinner.

“i was just gonna make spaghetti and meatballs, you can start the noodles if you want and i can start with the other stuff.” you walk towards her, planting a kiss on her lips, “thank you for coming, P. i love you.”

she smiles and kisses you again, cupping your cheeks in her hands and looking at you endearingly “of course, my sweet girl, i’m excited to spend tonight with you. especially for whatever you have planned at the end of it” she winks and playfully slaps your ass, heading for the cabinet where the pots are to start the water. you bite your lips and blush, knowing what’s in store.

dinner preparation goes smoothly for the most part. other than the two times you stopped for a make out sesh, and paige’s incessant comments about how hot you looked while cooking her dinner. she really knew exactly how to rile you up and it was so infuriating and sexy at the same time.

you are so worked up by paige’s advances and endless flirting that you can barely think at all once you set the table and finally sit down to eat. she knows the effect she’s having on you and that only fuels her more. “you’re so fucking cute when you’re worked up, just wanna make u like this all the time”

“you are beyond annoying paige, seriously, do u enjoy making me suffer?”

“yes,” she deadpans, staring at you with a look that practically undresses you on its own. you cross your legs, feeling the heat in between your legs increasing. if paige notices she doesn’t say anything, and you enjoy the rest of your meal together without anymore teasing.

when dinner is over she insists on cleaning up the mess and even though you try to object she shoos you away. you head into your room with the roses to draw the bath. your stomach stirs knowing you and her will be in it together soon. you add the bath salts, leaving it smelling amazing in the bathroom, and slowly and carefully drop the pedals into the water, desire seeming to rise with each pedal you drop. you finally light a few candles you had brought in the bathroom and turn off the lights.

as if on cue, paige enters the bathroom. looking around the room and then at you. “this is adorable baby. i love it. thank you so much for doing this for me.” she walks over to u and plants a kiss on your lips, her hands meeting either side of your waist as she looks in your eyes. your heart melts.

you break away from her and begin to undress, and her eyes never move from you as you take each piece of clothing off. her piercing stare making the color of your cheeks pink. once fully undressed you make your way into the bath, the hot water shocking your skin and not helping your growing desire for the blonde girl whose gaze was still fixed on you. you look at her, wanting her to join you so you can finally touch her. she understands and undresses as well smirking at you as you stare shyly at her beautiful body.

“like what you see?” she teases you as she pulls her final layers off, her naked body on full display in front of you.

“i’d like it a lot better if you were in here with me, hurry up” you say impatiently, wanting to touch her so badly. she finally joins you, scooting to the back and leaning on the bath walls, opening her legs so you can lay in between them. you allow her body to engulf yours as you lay the back of your head on her chest, savoring every inch of her skin that’s in contact with yours.

“you’re so pretty baby, can’t believe you’re all mine” she moves your hair away from your neck and places soft kisses along it, trailing down to your shoulder. soft whimpers leave your mouth as your body reacts to her touch, each kiss intensifying the desire that's been brewing all night. "have i made it up to you yet baby?" she whispers in your ear.

your brain goes fuzzy, barely able to think with her sinful lips and voice in your ear, "i'm not sure, i think there might be something else you could do to make it up to me" you try to tease her, but your voice betrays you as it comes out breathless and in between moans.

she laughs, and then whispers again in a low and seductive voice "oh yeah? whats that baby? tell me" she ghosts her finger around your nipple with one hand, and traces circles around the sensitive parts of your stomach, all while continuing to kiss your neck. you are fully gone at this point, shamelessly whining while she works you into total submission.

"cant. not right now. the last surprise. still need to show you." you are so worked up and words are not coming easy at all. you desperately want to get out of the bath and into your set so she can fuck you senseless in bed.

“okay baby, we can get out now. wanna go get that surprise ready?” she puts her hands on your shoulder and stops kissing your neck, you let out a whine at the absence of her touch, but find yourself slowly coming back to reality.

“yes, you wait in here and drain the water and i’ll let you know when you can come in” you say, making your way out of the bath and wrapping a towel around your figure. she nods and pulls the drain while getting out of the bath.

once in your room with the bathroom door shut, you make your way over to your closet and pull out the set you bought. it’s a light purple babydoll slip dress and a matching thong, there’s a bow in the bra part that can be untied to uncover your tits. you bite your lip as you feel your pussy get wet just thinking about her reaction. slowly, you put it on, making sure everything is in order and the bow is pretty for her, even though you know it won’t be tied for long.

“okay. you can come out now, i’m ready” you stand awkwardly, impatiently awaiting her presence and reaction to you. she opens the door and her mouth drops as soon as her eyes meet you. she stands there for a while, unable to say or do anything in awe of you.

“you’re amazing” she says, eyes running you up and down as she takes you in. she is star struck.

“come here and touch me please. make up for today” you whine, feeling so small under her gaze and so needy for her touch. she walks over to you, fingers touching all over you as she gazes at you perplexed.

“so fucking beautiful, all for me” she whispers, one hand cupping your cheek and another snaking its way down your back to grab your ass. her hand moves to the bow covering your chest, and slowly, she pulls the cloth until it unravels and your tits are on full display for her. she shamelessly stares at them, fondling one in her hand and running her thumb around your nipple, eliciting the most obscene noises from you as she does so. "your tits are a masterpiece, cant believe theyre all mine," she admits. both of her hands grip your thighs as she hoists you into her arms and lays you down on the bed, fully on top of you. "want me to fuck you in this baby? is that what you want?" she asks you, hands running up and down your thighs.

"yes. paige. oh my god please." you beg, laying all your desires out in front of her as you let her take full control. she kisses you passionately, hands traveling the expanse of your body and touching you in all of your most sensitive spots.

"so worked up for me huh? tell me how i can make it up to you baby, i'll do whatever you say", she says in a low voice in between kisses, hands traveling dangerously close to the place you need them most as she plays with the band of your panties.

"please fuck me paige, i need you in me right now" you beg, barely holding it together. her hands grab your underwear and she pulls them off of you, leaving your wet and throbbing pussy on full display. her fingers slide in between your folds, rubbing your clit and feeling your wetness.

"youre soaking baby, all because of me yeah? im gonna fuck you so good my sweet girl, make you forget all about what happened" you can barely hear her lude remarks as she rubs your clit. you fear you wont last long with how good her fingers are making you feel.

she slips two fingers in you, your wetness allowing them entrance with ease, she curls her fingers in you as your walls clench around them, touching your sensitive spot as she does so. your hips rut in reaction and moan her name loudly as she rakes in and out of you, "thats my good girl, so fucking loud for me," her pace quickens as she feels you tightening up against her. she knows youre close and is making no effort to prolong your orgasm, wanting to make you feel as good as possible. she moves her thumb to rub up and down against your clit, increasing the sensation as your body reacts to both points of contact.

you were so close, your body in her full control and needing release. "paige. please, faster. im gonna come" you plead. she moves right next to you and sucks on your neck while speeding up her pace inside of you,

"anything for you baby, you can come for me, i love you so much." she whispers, pace quickening as her fingers travel deeper inside of you .

her voice in your ear telling you to come is all you need to send you over the edge. you moan her name as you orgasm and she continues whispering, "so so good, all mine, love how you feel when you come. you look so beautiful right now baby" she slows her pace as you ride out your orgasm, kissing your neck as she continues talking you through it.

as you feel the waves of pleasure subside and you start to come back to your senses, you kiss her for a long time, whimpering in her mouth at the same time. she slowly pulls her fingers out of you, pushing them in your mouth as you lick up your mess. she lays down next to you, holding you in her arms.

"yeah. you definitely made it up to me" you say looking at her and pecking her lips.

"oh, there's more where that came from. i'm all yours tonight baby." she smiles, hand cupping your cheek as she kisses you lovingly.

it was going to be a long night.

#hope yall enjoy #please gas me up or ill delete this #paige bueckers #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige #smut #wlw smut #wlw #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wlw post #paige bueckers x reader smut #paige bueckers gf

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ladybirdswritings · 1 month ago

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INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at, and now he’s whisking you away on a date. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

three;

Your skin was drowned in amber and cashmere—rich, silken, and sparkling. Your hair was tied up in a bun, allowing a few mischievous ringlets to escape, highlighting the curve of your slender neck, and the pulse racing there.

Your dress was a deep violet, so deep that only under fluorescent lights could you see the purple hue—otherwise, it appeared black.

You looked gorgeous.

And nervous.

Entirely nervous, as you reapplied your gloss and paced the tile floor, where Kate and Axel eyed you suspiciously.

“Y/N, you really need to stop pacing. You’re making me anxious,” Kate snapped, having had enough of your shaky tirade. Axel nodded in agreement. “Calm down, you’re going to scare him away before he even gets here.” You scowled at that.

In the time since you and Clark had shared a quiet moment by the fire, when he trapped a ruby berry between your joined palms and blurted his desire to take you out, you’d texted sporadically and awaited a jolt to snap you from this dream.

“He’s definitely a serial killer,” you decided, and Kate pinched the space between her brows, shaking her head.

“Y/N, if he was a serial killer, don’t you think he would have killed you when you were alone at the bonfire?”

You huffed. “Ted Bundy had a girlfriend he adored. He didn’t chop her up into tiny pieces.”

“Oh my God…” your brother sighed, and Kate snorted.

Vera, Kate’s strawberry-blonde bombshell of a sister, stood and pressed warm palms against your shoulders. “Or maybe… you’re a really pretty girl, and he wants to take you on a date because he likes you. Duh.”

You gazed into the sincerity swimming behind her cyan eyes, nodding hesitantly. No, she was right. Your doubt, your pacing—it was just self-deprecation that had burrowed into your bones over the years. It had been so long.

Your ex was a jerk. Beyond that, he was cruel. His words still echoed in your mind.

You won’t find anyone else like me…

No one can deal with your baggage like I can…

No one else would want you like I do…

When you first dumped him, you were confident—until that confidence slowly evaporated, as time passed. Two years, in fact, with no strong man to keep you warm. All the boys you looked at were either taken or vile creatures who only wanted in your pants. Or worse—they didn’t want you back.

Vance was a great example.

Flirty, but noncommittal.

Yet for some reason, you still pined, and it made you feel pathetic.

The hum of the doorbell made your eyes widen to saucers. A cold chill kissed your skin.

“Do I look okay?” you nearly shouted in a whisper, anxious.

“You look great,” Vera promised, and you nodded, dragging your kitten-heel-clad feet toward the door.

The scent of pine from January’s chill lingered with honeyed whiskey, chai, and… flowers.

Flowers? Oh, you were definitely dreaming.

His glasses were lopsided and fogged, and he bumped them up with his wrist before offering the bouquet of creams, mauves, and navies toward you.

“Hi,” he breathed, furrowing his brows in frustration as the fog filtered his perfect view of his date. But he could smell you, and hummed a low, satisfied sound in his throat that you just missed.

“Hi.” You offered back, glancing anxiously at Vera and Kate, who hid their smiles behind their palms. You gently grabbed the flowers, fingertips grazing his, and brought them to your nose, inhaling their lovespelled scent.

“They’re… lovely. So lovely. Thank you, Clark.” He grinned, less lopsided than usual, and you handed them to Kate, who promised she’d find a vase before waving goodbye as you stepped outside.

A chill ran across your skin, and though Clark couldn’t see you clearly through his foggy lenses—too big for his face—he felt the ice linger on you. Without a word, he draped his suede blazer over your shoulders. It smelled of him, just like the bonfire, and you inhaled deeply, wrapping it closer.

Who taught him to be so… bookish?

“Come on,” he urged gently, his hand at the small of your back, guiding you to his sparkling navy truck.

You felt every bit the Miss Bennett to his Mr. Darcy as he offered you a warm, far larger than yours, palm and helped you into the elevated truck. Once inside, he quickly rounded to sit beside you. After buckling, he cleaned his glasses with the cloth of his navy shirt before tucking it back into his onyx pants.

Then he faced you and grinned again.

“Well, don’t you look purdy.” He teased, amplifying that Kansas twang, making a flush kiss your cheeks.

He was handsome. So handsome behind those glasses and his books and—well, everything. And here he was, on a date with you, one he initiated.

You’d been anticipating the night to go horribly wrong.

But it hadn��t just yet.

“So, I was thinking, I want to give you options. Mellow, casual—or fancy and… schmancy? Trust me, I don’t mind either. Especially not with you looking like that… uh—not that you don’t always look like that, I just mean—”

You arched a brow, watching the pinch return between his own chocolate brows. He met your eyes, catching the glint of mirth there. He huffed a laugh at his own expense. “I’m bombing this already, aren’t I?”

He tilted his head, his lazy grin making your head spin. You pursed your lips.

“Just a little,” you whispered, grateful that the moonlight cast enough of a shadow over your lips to show him you were joking. He laughed softly. A moment passed, and you realized you hadn’t answered his question.

“Is this another test of yours?”

His brows shifted upwards, and he smirked.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm…” Fancy schmancy restaurant sounded… exhausting. As pretty as you were, you knew very well you couldn’t keep up a tiresome charade for the entirety of the date. It wasn’t you. His pretty car and his Pinterest-worthy face made him seem like the type to prefer that option. But you decided that after you spoke your next words, he’d likely kick you out of his truck— and maybe that was okay.

“Mellow. Casual,” you whispered, and your heart dropped when his mouth turned into a thin line.

There it was.

Too good to be true.

Your palm itched for your seatbelt before that lopsided grin slid back onto his face.

“You’re trying to steal my heart, huh?” he whispered, perhaps more to himself, eyes roaming over your glossed lips. He offered a satisfied nod. “Okay, Y/N, hot chocolate or chai?”

•••

By the time you reached your destination, your eyes widened in awe at the glowing fluorescent letters.

THE WANDERING QUILL;

A bookstore.

You blinked, glancing toward Clark, who flexed his palm in an anxious manner whilst stepping out of the truck. Before shutting the door, he ducked back through it.

“Stay there,” he ordered, and you had to purse your lips together to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat when he circled to open your door and offer you a veined hand.

Maybe this was a trap. Maybe this perfect stranger was leading you into a slaughterhouse, ready to slice your skin and pick his teeth with your bones.

“C’mon, purdie,” he whispered as you hesitated, grabbing his hand. He led you down with ease, his fingers twitching in your grasp, but he let go, not wanting to push you before he even had you.

“I’m taking you book shopping,” he said, his hand on the small of your back as he guided you through the doors. You were admittedly overdressed, but his suede jacket hid that from view.

It didn’t matter, though. The moment the scent of aged parchment and spiced chai kissed your nostrils, you almost melted in contentment.

“This is my favorite place,” he said, his voice snapping you back to your senses. You looked up, and he was already peering down at you with an anticipatory expression.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, and his lips twitched as he turned you sharply right and led you to a quaint café beside all the books. He was amused, perhaps because it was maybe the third word you’d spoken all evening. A flush spread across your skin at that realization. You were being too shy. He’d undoubtedly grow bored of you, tire of your muteness, and—

“What’re you thinking about?”

Your eyes snapped to attention, and his expression softened when you spoke.

“No one’s ever taken me to a bookstore,” you said, catching yourself. The barista handed him two warm cups of molten chocolate that made your mouth water. Goosebumps erupted as you wrapped your hands around it.

“Do you like it?” His voice carried hope, and you were far too naive to catch it. Your beaming face melted something in him—like a puppet freed from its strings.

“I do,” you promised, and his lips twitched again. He blew on his drink and led you to a corner behind the café, surrounded by gold-dusted pages and crimson and violet-bound books, like something straight out of a storybook. He swapped your cups, less scorching than before, and then grabbed his own. He tilted his chin, signaling you to take a sip.

You did, and when the molten chocolate coated your tongue, you nearly melted too.

Christ.

If he dumped you on the side of the road after this, at least you’d die with a stomach full of this delicacy.

He laughed—a subtle, joyful sound. “That’s good, right?”

You could only nod, sipping again in tandem with him. His eyes wandered over the books around you. Then you blinked when you read the cursive sign that displayed “romance” in bold letters.

“Okay,” he began, taking your cup gently from your hands, making you pout. As if afraid to wilt you, he guided you forward. And god, if your neck wasn’t so close—so suckable—he might have stopped there. “Um…”

You tensed, wondering if maybe your amber-and-cashmere scent was off, if you’d forgotten deodorant. Christ, your stomach dropped.

Then you felt it—his hand at your hip, warm and firm, much firmer than you expected from his sweaters and flannels. Slowly, it snaked around your waist. He was asking permission, not demanding anything.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, so low you almost missed it. His touch wasn’t sexual; it was exploratory, as if seeing just how the pretty, shy girl—who he’d seen in ridiculous hedgehog pajamas before this—could feel in his arms. You exhaled shakily and nodded.

“And this?” he whispered again, guiding you a step back, treating you like the delicate flower you were. You were back to chest with the bookish stranger you’d met just a week ago. Held. Wanted.

And though your paranoid, self-saboteur mind screamed that this would be disastrous, The gentle thrum of your heart told you this was exactly where you needed to be.

A breathy giggle escaped you as he tested a gentle squeeze on your hip.

He felt almost barbaric, on the verge of losing control as he buried his nose into your honeyed locks with a not-so-subtle inhale, followed by a grin. You smelled like fresh linens and gourmands, and if he were a lesser man, he’d tilt your chin up so to taste you with his starved tongue.

But you were shy, and he wasn’t a lesser man. Raised well by his parents, he only swayed you slightly, loosening the tension in your sharp bones.

“Alright,” he whispered, amusement in his voice, dipping his head low as if to shut out the noise of the world around you— as if to trap you both in this moment. He handed you your cup back, warm, though his body was warmer, and it took all your strength not to shiver and melt into him.

“How about this: you pick a book for me, and I pick one for you. We’ll read them, then when I take you out again, we’ll talk about them.”

When.

Already… when.

You swallowed hard, wondering for a moment if he was seducing you or if he was just a little mad. You were shy, quiet, and painfully awkward, yet he was planning a second date already.

Despite your racing mind, how you felt in that moment told an entirely different story. Maybe playing along wouldn’t be so bad.

“Deal,” you murmured, a mirrored grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. He swayed you again.

“Yeah? Okay. Romance only.” You nodded, “Romance only. Got it… close your eyes.”

And he did. His lashes brushed against your silvered ear as he lowered his head to steal another inhale. It took all his restraint not to pull you closer, not to lazily lick at the vanilla coating your skin.

Your fingers skimmed over the book spines for a long moment before settling on the first one that came to mind— Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Fitting, the title alone was enough, but beyond it— the meaning. Girl doesn’t believe in love, boy changes it… maybe this little game he had you playing could be more than just fun— maybe it could tell him something deeper.

For a moment, you considered playing it safer, but in the end, you decided against it, tucking the book to your chest. “Okay, your turn.”

His grin grazed the place just below your ear as he tilted his head up again, moving his hand from your hip to cover your eyes. You giggled, the sound light and sweet.

“No cheating, y/n,” he murmured, waiting patiently as he plucked a gold-trimmed book from the rattan shelf.

“I’m sure you know this one,” he added, tucking it to his side as you turned to face him, free from his warm grasp. You felt cold again.

“On three?” you offered, and the corner of his mouth lifted, a lazy grin spreading.

“Three,” he said, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your book to him— and he did the same.

The Notebook.

“Oh, Clark.” His gaze shifted from your chosen book to his own, brows furrowing. “You’ve read it,” he concluded, but you shook your head. “Never even seen the movie.”

His brows lifted, blue-gray eyes widening slightly as he processed your words. A ringlet of onyx hair fell across his forehead as he checked his watch.

“Can I steal you for another… two hours?”

You just didn’t have it in you to say no…

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rbfclassy · 9 months ago

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STILL IN LOVE! #3 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You anxiously put on your mascara, nervousness building in your chest when your date texted that he was less than five minutes away. It’s been forever since you’ve been on a date, the last one you ever went on was with Toji. You began to grow anxious, a million questions running through your head, self doubt and everything in between. The kids were with Shoko, thankfully she was free for the weekend or else you might’ve had to cancel entirely no thanks to Toji.

You screwed the mascara shut, tossing it back in your makeup bag as you took one last look in the mirror, hands running over your dress to make sure it was flattened out and tight fitting. “Okay.” You took in a deep breath in, trying to calm your nerves. Though all came flooding back once the doorbell rang. “Shit! Okay, okay, be calm,” you spoke to yourself, striding towards the front door, heels hitting the wood below you. You gulped, fingers fidgeting with the lock before you opened the door to finally reveal your date. “Hi!” You smiled.

“Hi…wow,” he looked over your figure, “you look…amazing.” He couldn’t stop staring at you, a small smirk on his face. “These are for you.” He handed you a bouquet of followers.

The smile on your face grew wider as you grabbed the flowers from his hand, sniffing them. “Thank you so much, Nanami.” You averted your gaze towards him. “You look really handsome as well.” It felt like you were back in middle school again, talking to your crush for the first time ever. He wore a black button down, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pair of classic black slacks. His outfit rightfully complimenting yours. “Please, come in.” You grabbed the empty vase that sat on your countertop, filling it with water and placing the flowers in. “These are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them, they were one of the very few left,” he chuckled. He bit the inside of his cheek when you looked over your shoulder and flashed him a smile. He cleared his throat as you walked over to him.

“Well, thank you again. Shall we get going?” You asked, staring up at him through thick lashes.

Your faces were only inches apart as he held the stare, your perfume filling his lungs each time he took a breath. It was quite intoxicating. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to be late.”

It was already an hour into the date, you and Nanami were already making great conversation, finding out that you two had a lot in common. He was a hard working man, but always tried to find time for himself when it was necessary. He had his whole life put together, very obvious from the car you two drove to the restaurant in. He was such a gentleman, opening the car door for you, pull out the chair for you. It had you swooning. He had you swooning.

“How’s your pasta?” He asked, slightly leaning forward on the table.

You covered your mouth as you finished chewing. “It’s amazing!” Your eyes swelled up in joy. “Is this your first time here?” You asked.

“It is! I wanted to take you to somewhere new. I’ve driven by this place a few times and it looked pretty interesting. Glad my instincts are paying off,” he laughed, placing his fork down.

“Well, sir, you have excellent taste.” You smiled at him. “How is your food? It looks delicious.”

“It is! Would you like to try some?” He asked.

“Oh, no, no, please you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“I insist. Come on, I know you want to!” He picked up the crab cake he had ordered, breaking off a piece before placing it on a napkin and handing it to you. “Go on, tell me how good it is.” He watched intently as you ate, waiting for your reaction.

“Oh my gosh! It’s so buttery with a slight sweetness,” you let out a satisfied moan. “I’m jealous, Nanami.” He laughed at how serious your face turned once you finished.

He stared at your smile, finding himself mirroring it. You were very lighthearted and fun to be around, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. He was already starting to think about the second date. “Call me Kento.”

“So, how’s the new girlfriend doing?” Gojo asked as he sat on the couch next to Toji, a beer in his hand. Toji glanced at Gojo before averting his gaze back to the television in front of him.

“She’s fine,” he answered, no emotion in his voice. He took a swig of his beer, letting out a sigh. Gojo poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

“Just fine?” Gojo questioned. “You haven’t told me one thing about her since you two got together.”

“Don’t need to,” Toji bluntly stated. Immediately, Gojo could tell something else was plaguing Toji’s mind. Even with a few beers in his system, Toji wasn’t opening up. He knew exactly what it was. Him and Toji have been good friends for years, it’d be shame if he couldn’t tell what was on his mind.

“Okay, so how’s y/n and the kids?” Gojo raised a brow, staring Toji down. There was silence where there was supposed to be answer. He swore he could see Toji’s jaw clench at the mention of your name. Something happened that Toji didn’t tell him about. “Let me guess, you and y/n had some sort of argument and now you’re being pissy about it cause she was one hundred percent right like always?” Gojo batted his eyelashes, giving a cheeky smile.

“Shut the hell up, Gojo,” Toji warned, putting the beer bottle to his lips and taking a big gulp.

“Ah, so I’m right.” There was smug smile on his face as leaned back into the couch. “What is it this time? Did she finally find someone else?” Toji sucked in a breath before exhaling, rolling his eyes in annoyance. Gojo let out an audible gasp, “she did, didn’t she? Holy shit.”

“I don’t know for sure, but we got into an argument about me not taking the kids this weekend, she asked if it was because of yoko and I told her it wasn’t her business and that she was jealous. Then, she told me she had plans, but wouldn’t say with who. So…yeah. You happy?” Toji turned his head towards the white haired man beside him.

Gojo let out a small giggle, before stopping himself. “I’m sorry, you called the mother of your children jealous of your new girlfriend because she asked why you couldn’t take your children? What an asshole you are.” Gojo slowly nodded his head, brows raised in amusement.

“I get it, Gojo. Shut the hell up.” Toji had a firm grip on the beer bottle in his hand, afraid that if he squeezed it any harder, it’d shatter.

“Don’t get me wrong, Yoko is cute and all, but y/n,” Gojo let out a whistle, “y/n is where it’s at. She’s dealt with your ass for eight years, birthed two kids, and is hot as hell..I’d take her over Yoko any day. I see why you couldn’t stay away from her.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Toji glared at Gojo, using what restraint he had not to punch his friends teeth in.

“Just saying.” Gojo shrugged.

Toji’s phone began to ring, quickly grabbing it to see that Shoko was calling. His brows furrowed before he got up from the couch and answered it. “Hello?”

“Yo, Toji, your kids wanted to say goodnight,” Shoko stuffed some ice cream in her mouth, ready to hand the phone off to Megumi, but Toji spoke before anything.

“My kids? You’re the one babysitting my kids? Where’s y/n? Is she there?” Toji leaned against the kitchen counter, brows still knitted together.

“Jeez, you’re full of questions. Yes, I’m watching your kids, and y/n is…on a very, very nice date. Anyway, here are your children,” said with a chipper tone.

Megumi grabbed the phone from Shoko, putting it up to his ear. “Hi, dad, I just wanted to say goodnight. Naya already fell asleep.”

“Hi, buddy, goodnight to you too. Tell your sister I said goodnight if she wakes up, okay?” Toji spoke, placing his beer on top of the counter. He was trying to avoid sounding upset, the information Shoko just told him had his blood boiling.

“I will. I love you, bye!” Megumi quickly hung up the phone before Toji could even respond, leaving his father standing in silence.

The cold night breeze blew past your exposed legs as you walked up to your front door with Nanami, his hand holding yours as he helped you up the steps, making sure you didn’t trip in your heels. “Thank you so much, Kento. I had a great time with you,” you said with a smile, avoiding his gaze.

“I had a great time with you too. Must I say, once again, you look really beautiful tonight. I know you must be tired of hearing me say it, but I can’t help myself.” You took notice of how his eyes scanning over your body, focusing on the tight dress that you wore.

“Trust me, I could listen to you compliment me all night.” It was sort of bold of you to say such a thing, but with the way this man was flirting with you since the moment he laid eyes on you, it was only fair.

“Oh yeah?” His broad body grew closer to you, closing in the small distance. “Maybe we can do that on the second date then?”

You found the courage to look him in his eyes, not daring to pull away, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “I was thinking the same thing,” you responded.

“Good, glad we’re on the same page. Same time next weekend, better be ready.” A smirk tugged at his plush lips.

“Don’t worry, I will. Goodnight, Kento.” You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on his cheek. His hand slipped from yours as you pulled away, unlocking your front door and walking inside.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He took one last good look at you, taking in your smile before shutting the door. Nanami stood on your porch for a while, hands in his pockets, biting down on his bottom lip. He turned to walk down the steps only to stop himself, looking back at your door. Without thinking, he knocked on it.

You opened the door. “Oh, did I forget something?”

“Forgive me.” He cupped your face, planting his lips on yours, a feverish kiss shared between your two. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, gently biting on it. “I couldn’t resist,” he pants.

You were taken by surprise, but still kissed him back. Deep down, you were hoping this would happen. All night the tension was so thick that you could cut with a knife. The way he’d look at you, undressing you with his eyes, only for you to be doing the same. His hands ran up under your dress, squeezing at your thighs. You pulled away from the kiss to speak, “I was waiting all night for you to do this.”

“Yeah, sweetheart? Better not disappoint you then.” His hands ran up your thighs and to your ass, pushing you against the front door. Your hands tangled in his blonde locks as he left wet kisses down your neck. “You looked so good all night I was finding it hard to contain myself,” he admitted. He pushed his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge forming in his pants.

“Just fuck me already,” you moaned. The wetness pooling in your panties was obvious, your cunt throbbing.

“Where?” He quickly asked.

“Anywhere,” you breathily replied.

“Anywhere?” He questioned.

“Anywhere.” You nodded. All while Nanami was stripping you of your dress, you were blissfully unaware of your phone vibrating in your purse for the third time in under two minutes.

“She’s not answering the fucking phone.” Toji tossed his phone on the counter, Gojo standing there with his arms crossed in amusement.

“She’s probably getting the best fuck of her life. Leave her be, she deserves it.” Gojo pushed his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose.

“If you say one more thing, I’m gonna kill you,” Toji threatened. Gojo loved to piss Toji off, especially when he rightfully deserved it. And in this case, he did. “I’m gonna go over there.”

“Don’t go over there! You annoy her enough!” Gojo easily snatched the keys from Toji’s hands. “Wait until tomorrow, okay? Let the woman enjoy her night, she doesn’t need you ruining it.” He stuffed the keys in his pocket.

“Fuck off.” Toji grabbed his beer, chugging it like it was water. He had no right to be jealous, but he couldn’t deny these feeling brewing in his chest. The thought of someone else seeing you like he has, learning your body the way he has, treating you the way you deserved to be treated, and treating his kids with respect, he fucking hated it. He sounded like such an asshole, but deep down a part of you was always his.

“I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be too happy to hear you still care so much about your ex wife getting fucked.” He stared at Toji through his glasses.

“Yeah, well, surprise, she’s not really a girlfriend. I was just seeing her,” he explained.

“Like fuck buddies?” Gojo questioned. Toji answered with a nod. “Interesting that you choose your fuck buddy over your ex wife. Now look at you, lonely and jealous.” Gojo walked off back into the living room.

“You’re insufferable,” Toji muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He’ll let you enjoy your night, but he was definitely going to have a talk with you tomorrow morning whether you liked it or not.

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writing-for-marvel · 1 year ago

Text

Day 31: Breeding Kink

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky gets excited by the thought of becoming a father after your honeymoon.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, creampie, daddy kink™️, a teeny tiny bit of angst/self doubt at the start, reader potentially already being pregnant, lots of soft feelings and pure love

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: we are finally at the end of our honeymoon journey 🥹 thank you to everyone who has read any part of this series throughout the past month. I put so much love and effort into this and I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have ❤️ dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library

Bucky hands you a glass of your favourite wine, sitting down beside you and placing a protective hand on your thigh.

“To the last night of our honeymoon.” He toasts simply. But he doesn’t need to add anything else - all other praises, different forms of ‘I love you’, and terms of endearment have already been declared to you during the past four weeks.

You didn’t think it was possible, but after the last month, you feel even more loved by Bucky than ever before.

“And to every night of the rest of our lives.” You add before clinking your glass against his. He swirls the liquid around the glass, sniffing the rich scent before taking a substantial sip. Instead, you specifically chose to place your glass down without tasting the wine.

“Who are you and what have you done with my wife?” He chuckles in that way where you can’t help but smile at the sound. “No wine tonight? Do you want something else?”

You shake your head playfully, the news you need to disclose dry on the tip of your tongue, but the sparkling adoration in Bucky’s eyes is what gives you the surge of courage to speak the words aloud.

“I’m late.” You announce and you can see the realisation play out in Bucky’s eyes as to the implication of what you’ve just disclosed. “It’s only a few days, it could be anything really - the stress of the wedding, the travel… but it’s probably best to be cautious considering how many times you’ve cum in me over the last month.”

“You think you’re pregnant?” His voice sounds breathless and his strong jaw hangs open, as if in pure shock.

“It’s a possibility...” You trail off, unsure if his reaction is due to certifiable happiness or complete dread. Fear sinks in your stomach like lead - he’s the king of a mafia empire, danger lurks around every corner, and has a long list of enemies who would want nothing more than to murder his entire family in cold blood for revenge.

How could you be so stupid to believe he’d be enthusiastic about bringing a child into that environment?

“Did you not want to be a dad?” Your voice comes out weak, almost trembling, and you can see the concern rise in Bucky’s eyes in the time it takes you to blink. His hands cup your face, tender and loving, as he rests his forehead against yours and looks at you like you’re the only thing that exists in his entire universe.

“You are the love of my life, and there is nothing I want more than for us to create a life from that love. The thought of having a little one who is half me, half the woman I love most in the world… that joy is indescribable.”

Bucky once told you that he could not bear to be the source of your pain, that for him hurting you was akin to torturing himself. He has that same wounded look in his eye right now, as if the mere thought of you fretting about his reaction makes his heart crumble into a thousand pieces.

You kiss him this time, as if you are struggling to breathe and his lips are the only source of oxygen, a desperation to convey he will always be the life force that sustains your existence.

With his strapping hands grabbing into your hips, Bucky lifts you from the couch and walks you backwards towards your bedroom expertly while his tongue dances with yours.

In a haze of passion and lust, Bucky strips the clothes off your body, lips following the soft touch of his hands as garments get tossed around the room. As the air caresses your bare skin, he gently pulls you closer, eyes roaming your body with a fierce thirst that somehow outshines his usual desire at seeing you naked for him.

Your head is almost dizzy from his intoxicating kiss by the time you’re bare for him and he’s laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing patterns over your stomach as he whispers words of devotion against your soft skin. He doesn’t need to speak them any louder, his whole world is encapsulated in the person laid unclothed and dripping before him.

Rubbing his bulbous tip on your clit, Bucky slowly pushes inside you and then pulls out, slapping your clit again, performing the action over and over until the needy ache between your thighs is almost unbearable. Jolts of pleasure fire up your spine and wet arousal streams out of you as you arch your back and cup both of your breasts, fingers flicking over your hardening nipples.

“Daddy, please.” The name slips from your lips before you have the time or mental consciousness to stop it, but Bucky simply smirks in response, satisfied with just how desperate you are for him, and only him.

“Daddy’s going to give you everything darling, just lay back and relax.” He teasingly draws figure eights with the tip of his dick against your clit, capturing your pert nipple in mouth, tongue circling your tender areola, the combination of his stimulation forging an ardent whine from the back of your throat.

Then, without any notice, Bucky pushes himself into you slowly, lovingly.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so tight. You were made for me, just for me.” He growls in your ear when he’s finally fully sheathed within you.

You let your hands drift over the contours of Bucky’s muscular back, drawing him even closer against you as he buries his face in your neck as his hips begin rocking into yours. Having him hold your upper body with such gentleness all the while having his hips rail you into the mattress feels both exquisitely intimate and downright pornographic.

You’re unsure how Bucky manages to be both concurrently, but he always finds a way.

“Sounds like that feels so fucking good for you, baby. Fucking squelching for daddy.” He’s not wrong, the salacious squelch of your walls fills the room along with your lustful moans with every unrelenting, impaling thrust of his cock.

His pelvis rhythmically meets your ass as he lifts your hips, taking you by surprise and pushing your legs back into your body, testing the bounds of your flexibility. From this angle he can’t help but graze your spongy g-spot with each thrust, over and over and over again. You cry out in pleasure, too overwhelmed by the sensations undulating within you, one moment it’s all too much, the next not enough, to realise your fingernails are digging sharply into Bucky’s biceps.

At this point in your relationship Bucky knows your body better than you do, before you have time to recognise that you’re right at the precipice of a fast approaching orgasm, his nimble fingers locate your throbbing clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in that way that forces a wanton sob bubble up in your throat.

“Look at me baby - keep your eyes on daddy when he makes you cum.” Those dazzling steel blue eyes are your downfall, those same sparkling eyes which have always regarded you with an unparalleled desire and reverence, even from the very first time you met. Those beautifully unique eyes you have memorised the patterns of, committed to memory where each fleck of gold resides and how they seem to shine brighter when you’re the object of his gaze. Those same sincere eyes that filled with tears as he watched you say ‘I do’ and feasted on your body in your white wedding gown until he zipped it off you on your wedding night.

Your high hits you with a magnitude that shakes your entire body, eyes rolling back and has your toes curling. The rest of the world crumbles around you, the only thing your brain can comprehend in this life shattering moment is that Bucky is mercilessly pounding into you, pushing you through a climax that feels like a million shooting stars all exploding at once.

Bucky stills as you tremble around him, coming down from your high with sweat on your brow and a dazed look in your eyes that he can’t seem to get enough of.

His kiss is soft and sweet, but completely life ruining all the same. It takes you back to the first kiss you ever shared, how much outpouring of love you felt when his lips touched yours and you knew for certain you wouldn’t kiss anyone but him ever again.

Bucky’s hips start moving again, slowly at first, building a sensual rhythm of deep strokes which has you biting into his shoulder to prevent yourself from moaning obscenities. You can’t tell where he stops and you begin, your bodies moving together in the heat of passion, euphoria covering you both like a blanket of pure, warm sunshine.

“Gonna breed you.” He growls in your ear with that inflection in his tone where you can tell he’s just as close as you are to coming undone. “Gonna give you a baby. Our baby.”

His words satisfy some primal part of your brain that’s in control now, you swing your legs around Bucky’s waist so he stays exactly where you want him when he cums. His arms frame your head and he gazes down at you as if he’s trusting you to hold his fragile heart in the palm of your hand.

“Give it to me. Please daddy, please give me all your cum.” Your fingernails scratch down his back as Bucky’s cock grazes over the spongy spot on the inside of your walls which makes you see stars. “Put a baby in me.”

Your words only spur him on, thrusts growing sloppy, faltering slightly with a guttural groan reverberating from his chest that is the beginning of the end for you, the pebble which breaks the dam, your release flooding through you in crashing, torrential waves.

“Fuck, Bucky, I’m cumming!” You announce and through his panting, Bucky lets out a satisfied hum as you walls clench down around him, triggering his own release right alongside yours.

You swear you’ve ascended to heaven, floating on a cloud of pure bliss as the ecstasy of your high radiates like a rising sun within your core.

Bucky stays hovering above you as you both catch your breath, whimsical smiles tickling the sides of your mouths as you simply gaze at each other, the only thought running through your mind being how fucking lucky you are to have someone who loves you like Bucky does, someone who will always put your wants and needs before their own because ensuring your happiness is their happiness.

“Can’t let any go to waste.” Bucky comments as he pulls out of you, fingering his release back inside you so that none spills out, flicking your puffy and sensitive clit as he does so, sending jolts firing up your spine that makes you squirm.

“Well, if you weren’t pregnant before, you’re likely to be now.” Bucky chuckles lightly, his hand brushing lovingly over your stomach as he lays beside you. “And if not, then we’ll just keep trying. We are pretty good at the act of baby making.”

“We certainly are.” You turn your head and capture his swollen lips in a raw, delicate kiss that conveys more meaning than mere words can. “I can’t wait to go back home and spend the rest of our lives together, maybe with some little feet pattering on the hardwood floors too.”

You know Bucky well enough by now to recognise the genuinely content and blissful smile spreading over his features. You crave for him to look at you like this for the remainder of your life, for him to feel so full of adoration for you that he simply cannot be anything other than blissfully happy in your presence. If he loves you even half as much as you love him, you’re positive your love story will be one for the history books.

“Te iubesc [I love you].” He places a kiss to your hairline, and pulls you closer in his embrace where you always feel at home. You’ve never felt as loved and cherished as you do in this moment right here, with your darling husband who you know would go to the ends of the world to ensure you and your possible future child are safe.

“Not as much as I love you.” There’s a sparkle in his ocean coloured eyes as you say these words, a depth of devotion you could drown in.

“That’s impossible.”

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Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @Inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot @littleravengirl @whyamireadingthis @vase-of-lilies @Mrsrogers77 @saltyshluts @Wwhitewolff @buckysdogtagss @mylastnamesyuh @alexandria-fandom @andth3ywereroommates @avalongreene-09 @sargentbarnxes @keira324 @cherryschaos @missusbarnes-rogers @cherriesnwinee @Ellieangelbee @Shirayukiuzukaze @goldylions @elacinnamoon @buckysdollx @mrsmischief209 @capsbestgirl77 @its-just-smut-haha @ironmansson29 @Slutforderekhale @otome-loves-what @jacesswifey @winterslove1917 @black-mistress-of-evil @buckyscumwhore @purple-vegan

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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i love poly! Marauders♡

could you make a one shot where the reader gives the boys flowers and handmade gifts for the first time after their first month of relationship?

xoxo

Ugh yes our boys don't get enough gifts! Thanks for requesting gorgeous :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

When Sirius answers the door to the apartment he shares with his boyfriends to find you standing there with a bouquet of flowers, he very nearly panics. Naturally, his first thought is of the worst-case scenario: someone else has gotten you flowers, and you’ve decided to break it off with them and be with that fucker. Alternatively, you’re upset that they haven’t gotten you flowers in nearly a week (would those ones have died already? Sirius knows next to nothing about flowers; Remus is supposed to stay on top of that) and have brought an arrangement for them to give you as a not-so-gentle-nudge. He might be sick.

But you’re not deserving of the snappy response that comes to his lips, so Sirius swallows and tries to find his gentlest voice. “Hey there, gorgeous. What’re those for?”

You grin until your cheeks dimple, flushing in the way Sirius has grown familiar with over the past few weeks: you’re excited, but a bit embarrassed to show it. “Happy one-month anniversary,” you say, extending the bouquet to him as James and Remus come into the room behind him, intrigued by what’s keeping their boyfriend so long at the door. Your eyes dart between the three of them in that nervous way of yours as you explain in a rush, “I know it’s silly, but I’ve just been wanting to give you all gifts for a while now, and no one’s birthday is coming up for months.”

“Thanks, dove.” Remus is the first of them to reply, nudging past Sirius to take the flowers from you. James is grinning so hugely it’s pushing his eyes nearly closed, and Sirius suspects he’s staring at you like you’ve hung the moon. “These are beautiful. It’s a month today, really?”

You nod bashfully.

“Then shit,” Sirius says, collecting himself, “you’re not silly; we’re ridiculous for forgetting! Come on in, sweet thing.” He grins at you, and when you shy, as you are wont to do, at his brash manner, James takes your hand and encourages you through the doorway. “Do we have some wine or chocolate or something?”

“We do,” Remus replies, disappearing into the kitchen. “And grapes. Are you alright with white wine, dovey?” You hum in affirmation, and Sirius thanks Merlin for his refined boyfriend, without whom he and James would stock the apartment entirely with crisps and pot noodles.

James takes you to the living room, sitting you beside him, probably not as close as he’d like but wary of making you jumpy. Sirius isn’t so cautious, plopping down next to you so that your legs and hips are squished together simply because he delights in making you flush.

“Leave off ‘er,” James says defensively, and Remus returns, laying the snacks and refreshments on the table before sitting beside Sirius and encouraging him to lean on his shoulder. Sirius huffs in protest, but goes willingly.

His problem taken care of, James turns his attention back to you. “Thanks for the flowers, sweetheart,” he says, and Sirius notices that Remus must have found a vase for them while he was in the kitchen. They’re sitting in the center of the coffee table, arranged prettily in water. “You didn’t need to get us a gift, but that’s so lovely of you.”

You bite your lip, and Sirius knows you have something to say before you say it. “I, um…” you play with your fingers. He wants to take them in his hands, spreading each one between his own. “I’m really glad you like them, but those actually aren’t the gifts I was talking about.”

Sirius watches as James’ expression turns giddy at the plural there. Gifts.

You reach into your bag and pull out a pair of gloves. They’re gray, and they look thick, like they’re made out of some sort of knit material. They’re also huge. You extend them to Remus. “I know you can never find ones that fit,” you say hesitantly, “so I’m hoping these might work? I couldn’t measure to get it exactly right, but I think they’re big enough.”

Remus takes them with something akin to awe in his expression, and Sirius’ mouth goes dry as realization dawns upon him. He’d always thought Remus cut the fingers off his gloves because it looked cool (admittedly, there had been several years when Sirius had copied him for that very reason), but it was because they didn’t fit. His lengthy, slender fingers had to be too long for most gloves. Sirius felt stupid for not realizing it. He glances at James, finding a similar expression of dumbfounded epiphany on his boyfriend’s face. They’d both known Remus for years, and you’d picked up on his plight over the course of a month.

“Did you make these?” Remus breathes, taking the gloves from you gingerly.

“Mhm,” you nod, proud and sheepish at the same time. “I crocheted them.”

“You…they’re perfect. Thank you, dove.” Remus looks the softest Sirius thinks he’s ever seen him, and he feels like someone’s scooped out his guts and replaced them with syrup.

“No problem.” Your cheeks dimple as you duck your head, digging through your bag again. This time you emerge with something red, also crocheted, and vaguely rectangular, turning to James.

He looks at you adoringly as he takes it, but it’s clear he’s as clueless about what it is as Sirius feels.

“It’s a glasses case,” you supply. “I don’t know if you even want one, but you’re always breaking them by knocking them off the nightstand, and I thought maybe it’d help.” You shrink a bit. “Don’t worry about it if you don’t want to use it.”

“‘Course I’m using it.” James sounds appalled, and he takes your hand in his, squeezing gently until your smile returns. “This is so thoughtful of you, angel. Really, thanks so much. I’m going to use it every night.”

You grin hugely, all but glowing at his praise, and when you turn back to your bag, and Sirius is almost surprised there’s still one left for him. As if sitting here, basking in the happiness of all the people he cares about most, isn't enough of a gift.

Still, that doesn’t mean he’s not curious what it is.

You pass him a small pouch, and you’ve made it purple with a black star in the middle. Sirius loves it without knowing what it’s for. Hell, he doesn’t even care if it has a utility, he wants to frame it on his wall.

“I know you drop your earbuds a lot,” you say, “so I thought maybe you could put them in here sometimes, to protect them. I put little loops on it in case you want to carry it or attach it to something, but you could just keep it in your pocket, if you want.”

Sirius takes his earbuds out from his pocket, slipping them into the little case, and they fit perfectly inside. He grins at you, and when you smile back, the corners of your eyes crinkling, his restraint snaps. He lunges for you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and cradling your head with the other hand. His heart aches, and it's as much for the thoughtfulness and care you put into his own gift as it is for the joy you’ve given to Remus and James. He doesn’t think his heart can handle carrying around this much love. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair, and your arms come around his middle, squeezing tight.

He takes his time in releasing you, but when he does you’re immediately captured by James, who kisses the side of your face haphazardly. Remus has gone mute beside him, but Sirius suspects both boys are feeling overcome by the same desperation to express their appreciation as he is. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get close.

“Fucking one-month anniversary,” he says, and he sounds breathless even to his own ears. “I hope you’ve kept the night free, gorgeous, because now you have to let us take you out to dinner.”

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yumeaoka-chan · 7 days ago

Text

And They Were Roommates...

Made entirely because of the HC sent by 🎏 anon to @the-kr8tor . Teehee❤️

Pairing: Ekko x Reader x Hobie Brown/ Ekko x Reader x Spider-Punk! Hobie Brown

Tags: fluff, modern au (they're all in Hobie's universe, really), cursing, blood, injuries, no physical description of reader, can be read as any gender really, hurt/comfort (sorta??), sparse use of y/n, hobie gets bapped like twice cuz I think it's funny, can be read as romantic or platonic

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Finding out one of your roommates is actually Spider-Man was not at all on your Bingo Card.

A loud bang startles you awake, thumps and thuds sounding outside your room. Blinking away the sleep from your eyes and scrubbing a hand over your face, you peel away the blankets with a groan.

“Fuckin’ hell”, a muffled voice huffs, making you scoff.

“That should be my line”, you mumble, stumbling across your room. You knew having more than two people living together would mean noises late in the night, knew that it was inevitable for disturbances. It hadn't occurred to you just how frequent it would be, however. This was the fifth night in a row this week that you've been woken up by them, nevermind it being almost five months since you started living here and you were tired of it. It didn't matter how nice they both were, how you cared deeply for them, how they'd apologize for it come morning. The fact that it keeps happening is enough to make you want to throttle them.

“It's three in the morning -”, you hiss lowly, wrenching your bedroom door open, “Three in the fucking morning..!” Fists balled up in frustration and annoyance painted on your features, you stomp your way into the small living room.

“I'd appreciate it if you both would…” The words die in your throat at the smell of iron as you take in the sight before you. The window behind the couch was wide open, cool night air blowing into the flat, bloodied handprints smeared across the windowsill. On the floor was the vase you had brought with you when you moved here, next to the toppled over coffee table and a banged up guitar littered with stickers. Your eyes drift over the couch speckled with crimson over to the man sprawled on the floor, masked head lifting up from the cushions. The white eyes of his mask seem to widen in what you think is shock at the sight of you and he lifts a hand up in your direction.

“W-Wait-”

“How the fuck did you get in here?!” You cry out, pointing at the stranger who you've come to realize is Spider-Man, the Spider-Man. What the hell is London's web head doing in your flat, on your floor?! The masked hero struggles to lift himself off of the floor and that's when you notice the ichor seeping past his fingers, palm pressed against the large cut on his stomach. The sight of more blood makes your pulse quicken, panic settling in your bones.

“Oh! Oh, God, you're bleeding..!” Legs wobbling, you trip over yourself and stumble as you inch closer towards the man, trembling hands hovering out towards him. “Fuck… W-What should I do? H-How do I help you…?” Spider-Man shakes his head, hand gently gripping your wrist once you get close enough to him. The way he rubs his thumb against your skin in a calming manner feels oddly familiar to you, though it does little to quell the anxiousness eating at your insides.

“‘S fine, mate, really-”

“A doctor…! I'll take you to a doctor..!” A hand gently rests atop your head just as you start to pull the masked hero up, making you freeze and stutter in your frantic rambling. Exhausted hazel brown eyes greet you as you look up over your shoulder, lips twisted in a small frown and twisted locs pulled back in a ponytail.

“It's all good, Y/N”, Ekko mumbles softly, voice still warm and laced with sleep, “I've got it from here.”

“W-What..?” You question as he kneels down in front of the injured man, a first aid kit already in his hands. He's too calm about this whole situation in your opinion, so much so that you're beginning to suspect that this isn't the first time this has happened. Your roommate clicks his tongue in slight annoyance, brows furrowing as he glares at the hero. And then he does something you never thought he would do to a hero of all people. Ekko raises a hand and smacks Spider-Man on the forehead. Jaw dropping at the scene, you watch as the web head curses, fingers shooting up to rub at the sore spot.

“Bloody wanker! Hell was tha’ for”, he grumbles, yelping as Ekko tugs at one of the spikes on his mask. “Stop! ‘M injured, remember?”

“This is exactly why I said for you to let ‘em know what's up. You never listen, man!” Your roommate snaps, frustration evident on the furrow of his brows as he helps the man out of his leather vest. Spider-Man lets out a noise and if he wasn't wearing that mask, you'd have sworn he would have been pouting.

“Give me some slack, ‘Ko. Slipped my mind, ‘s all.” The nickname leaves his lips almost naturally, and leaves you bewildered. Because, from your knowledge, the only ones Ekko allows to call him that are you and-

“You're shitting me… Hobie…”, you mumble softly, eyes as big as saucers at the sudden revelation. The masked man chuckles lowly before reaching up and pulling the mask off completely, the familiar warm russet brown eyes of your roommate greeting you. Small cuts litter his face and the area near his right eye looks slightly darker and swollen, as though he'd been punched repeatedly. Hobie gives you a lopsided smile, pain evident in the way the corners of his lips tremble just a bit.

“‘S me, darlin’. Meant to tell you sooner…” It all finally makes sense. The persistent weariness you'd see emanating from him at times, all the times he'd been late to your hangouts, the fact that he almost always looked like he'd gotten into a fight. Hell, the guitar he carries is the exact one Spider-Man was always lugging around. How could you have even missed this? Now that you knew exactly who was behind the mask and how close you were to him, your nerves slowly began to spike again. Was he always getting hurt this badly, to the point that the blood flow never seemed to stop, even now? An image of a lifeless Hobie laying deathly still on the floor of your flat flashes in your mind then and you can't help the shiver that runs down your spine.

“Mm, you got lost in my eyes there?” His words rouse you out of your musings and you glare at him, letting out a huff and trying to hide the way your eyes were beginning to sting with the threat of tears. Ekko snorts and smacks Hobie's forehead again, who in turn lets out a shout. “Oi! Nurses ain't ‘posed to hit the wounded!”

“Sure”, Ekko scoffs before turning to you, exasperation coloring his voice, “Can you grab a large bowl with warm water and a little soap?”

You're up almost immediately after he asks, quickly rushing to grab whatever he needs. You return shortly with the bowl and a clean washcloth, carefully placing it beside him, watching as he pulls out the tools needed to treat his patient who is already shirtless. You watch as Ekko begins treating Hobie, hands quick yet gentle in the way he cleans the wound. The silence stretches on as you move to sit next to him, your head inches away from both his and Hobie's. It's when he moves on to begin stitching the cut that you speak up, eyeing your two roommates.

“From the looks of it, you've been tending to him for a while. How long have you been doing this, ‘Ko..?” He chuckles and shakes his head, a few white twists slipping from the ponytail and falling over his eyes. Your fingers are quick to brush them to the side for him while Hobie gently fixes Ekko's hair into a bun, so that his hair doesn't get in the way of his work.

“It feels like forever, honestly, like I've known him for that long. It's probably only been about a year or two, though.” He mumbles, which makes the injured man in front of you chuckle.

“Been my saviour for a while now, yeah?”

“Yeah…” There's a look that crosses over Ekko’s face then, something akin to sadness and anxiousness. It goes away just as quick as it came but, unfortunately for him, both you and Hobie had already seen it. Fingers softly grazing his wrist, you silently urge him to stop for just a moment, Hobie following your lead by tenderly bumping a hand underneath the upset man's chin. Ekko closes his eyes for just a moment before looking up at Hobie and leaning his weight a little more against you, as if searching for comfort in your presence.

“I hate this… I hate having to patch you up after you get hurt like this”, he mumbles softly as his hands begin to resume their work, the real meaning behind his words reaching you almost instantly. Hobie sucks in a breath, glancing down at the hands working on his wound with a slightly guilty look on his face.

“...Sorry, mate… ‘S a hassle, I know-”

“He means-”, you interrupt him, hand quick to grasp his own, feeling the way the fabric of his suit rubs against your skin, "that it worries him. You getting hurt this badly is a little scary, Hobes. Makes a person think that if you'd gotten hurt anymore than you already had, that you might not come back at all one day…” You take a shaky breath, not even realizing the tears you'd held in from earlier were shining in your eyes right now. “I mean, look at how scared I was tonight. I just learned about you being Spider-Man and it already made me scared for your safety, seeing you like this. Imagine how Ekko has been feeling all this time.”

“We're not saying you should stop being Spider-Man, Hobie”, Ekko mutters as he finishes the last bit of stitches, hands moving to grab the ointment he laid out as he sniffles. “All we're saying is that we want you to at least come back to us in one piece. That's all we ask for.”

“Yeah. And don't make fun of us if we're a little shaken up at you being hurt”, you choke out, now wiping the hot tears dripping down your face. This was a little more than you'd expected to happen tonight, who could blame you for crying right now? Sleep deprivation and witnessing someone you cared about bleeding out could do it to you. You feel yourself being pulled into an embrace, Hobie wrapping you both in his arms and holding you close. You could feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm as one of your hands rested on his chest, the other gripping Ekko's hand.

“I'll always come back to you lot. Promise”, Hobie murmurs softly, voice cracking just a bit as he tightens his grip on you both ever so slightly. Ekko chuckles and bumps his head against his affectionately.

“Better. Or we'll both hunt you down and knock some sense into you.” A sniffle leaves you as you nod your head in agreement. Hobie lets out a laugh at that, arms holding you ever closer.

“Got it, Boss Man.”

#asia's fics #hobie brown x reader #ekko x reader #ekko fanfic #hobie fanfic #hobie brown #arcane ekko x reader #ekko x reader x hobie #atsv hobie #modern au #spider punk #arcane ekko #Two Hearts In Mine #thim

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tojjist · 1 year ago

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♯♯ birthday special - t. fushiguro

a/n: i didn't do anything for the holiday season bc i barely had time :( but i still wanted to do summ for his birthday soo.

warnings: like one cuss. completely fulff. not proof read! sunshine x grumpy

toji fushiguro hates you. toji fushiguro despises you for all you are; kind, loving, sweet, and damn perfect.

it’s almost insulting to him, really. the way you mock him with your soft little smile, patronizing him with your kindness.

he hated how complicated you are. he could never understand your motives. why would you treat him like that? knowing where he came from and what his past looked like. why do you stick around when he offers next to nothing? he couldn’t find any proof of an ulterior motive yet he couldn’t accept the simple reality of you actually wanting to be around him.

but toji hated one thing above all; how you make him feel. he doesn’t get the way his chest clouds and breath tightens whenever your skin comes in contact with his. his tongue goes paralyzed when you smile his way, eyes unmoving from your face when you scoff a small chuckle at whatever dumb shit he said. he can’t even remember what made you laugh but he gets this overwhelming urge to do it again.

he grows vulnerable, craving your touch when you’re not around. he’s soon hyper aware of his attachment to you. but toji is a smart man, and he knows he can’t do anything about the situation he found himself entangled in.

when he’s away, a single hour could feel like a whole eternity. and he can’t wait to be back home. home where you’re waiting. home where he belongs.

it doesn’t take long for him to grow accustomed to the physical proximity of you. the feel of you becomes a soothing balm, gently brushing away all his worries even if only temporarily.

toji fushiguro hates you. he hates how his heart skips a beat whenever his nose picks up on your sweet scent. he hates how the sound of your voice downright puts his entire world on pause, stopping to hear every little word that leaves your lips. from mumbles when you’re half-asleep to your little rants about your day or the new show you’ve been watching.

toji fushiguro hates how he’s capable of so little. he can’t give you the world. he can’t give you the dream life. he can’t give you a luxurious house. he can’t give you fancy dates or decent holiday getaways. heck, sometimes he can’t give you even time.

that’s why he makes sure to spend every minute he could with you, basking in the haven you created for him.

he tells himself he’s doing it all for himself. he says he needs a rest and just keeps you around because it’s easier than ‘looking for another girl’. toji tries to convince himself that it’s temporary, that you’re just willing to stick around and that he’d leave sooner than later. he says he’s selfish and doing it all for himself.

but it’s clear as day when his arms cling to you first thing in the morning, searching for your warmth despite the duvet he had pushed away. it’s obvious in the way he caresses your hair while you pretend to be asleep. occasionally he’d let his lips find the crown of your head, greeting your hair with soft kisses.

toji fushiguro hates you. he hates when you told him that you loved him, in his car on some tuesday night when he took you out for a ride late at night even though he needed to sleep.

toji fushiguro hates how your face lit up when he brought some flowers home with him,mumbling something along the lines of “the vase been empty for too fucking long”. but there was no vase. and he only realized when he got up at night to get some water, spotting the pretty flowers set in a plastic water jug.

toji fushiguro hates his new life. he hates how different he’s become. the hostile menace has become a quiet man, following behind you everywhere you go as if he were your personal gorilla. toji fushiguro hates how much life mattered now. toji fushiguro hates the responsibility he feels.

he says it’s restricting, suffocating even. he clicks his tongue in annoyance when he sees the time. it’s past dinner time and he needs to be home to not keep you waiting. he’s frustrated at himself when he finds you plopped on the couch, face peaceful while you presumably have fallen asleep as you awaited his return. he feels guilt gnawing at him when he sees the food you’ve made, having not eaten so he wouldn’t have dinner alone.

you’re too much for him. and while he’d felt like he owes you at some point, sick of your little favors and stupid sweet words, toji soon realizes this life is his. it was by choice that he let you into his life, slowly rearranging the blocks of his reality. you broke and rebuild, fixing a man who believed he was long beyond repair.

toji fushiguro hates you. toji fushiguro despises you for all you are, kind, loving, sweet, and painfully his.

somewhere along the way toji has accepted all that he feels. falling in love isn’t shameful. he’s become a fool but he thinks it’s worth it long as you’ve the one who’s molded him into this shape.

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cartoonhorses · 14 days ago

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Remission

Jimmy Zare x female! Reader

warnings/triggers : Slight breast play, heated make out session, takes place on Earth, slightly ooc Jimmy

word count : 2.6k +

author’s note : I feel like this is a little rushed and I’m sorry! I tried my best to go back and correct my grammar mistakes, if I missed anything please let me know.

MDNI

The air outside was crisp, heavy with the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint warmth of the mid-morning sun. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, clutching the card your family members had sent to you through the mail in your hand. Your heart raced, not from nerves, but from excitement. Today was special, it was your birthday! And of all the places you could have been, all the people you could have spent it with, you wanted to spend it with Jimmy.

Jimmy—the guy you’d been seeing for a few months now. What started as casual hookups shifted one night when he invited you out to a rundown diner and, over greasy fries and flat soda, asked you to be his girlfriend. Of course, you said yes. How could you possibly turn him down after such a romantic gesture. The memory of it never failed to make you giggle.

The walk to his house wasn’t too long due to the fact he only lived a few blocks away. As you reached Jimmy’s door, your mind flickered to all the times he surprised you before—small gestures that left you breathless. He wasn’t one for grand displays, but he had his ways. Like when he gave you fake, cheap flowers from the dollar store in a nice, decorative vase that he likely got from an old ladies’ garage sale.

Finally, you reached his house. You stood on his porch and brought your hand to the dark, wooden door. You didn’t even have to knock. The door cracked open and the positive energy you felt all morning suddenly shifted.

Jimmy stood there, leaning lazily against the frame, his expression neutral, almost bored. He wore a white, tattered wife beater that clung to his slim but muscular torso. “Hey,” he said flatly, stepping aside to let you in.

Your chest tightened slightly, but you pushed it aside. Maybe he was tired! Yeah that had to be it. You stepped in, the card still clutched in your hand, and gave him a soft smile. “Hi,” you said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He gave you a tiny smirk once you pulled away, though his mind almost seemed to be somewhere else entirely since it quickly faltered.

The living room looked exactly as it did the last time you were there—cluttered but not messy. The faint smell of pine from the candle you had gifted him weeks ago lingered in the air. He plopped on the couch, leaving room for you to sit but picking up his phone like you weren’t even there.

You sat beside him, the card in your lap. You didn’t say a word and minutes began to tic by, each one louder than the last. You watched him scroll on his phone, his thumb lazily flicking up, eyes glued to the screen. You were somewhat thankful for the TV being on, otherwise this situation would be extremely awkward.

“Did you eat yet?” You asked finally, desperate to fill the silence between you two.

“Not really,” he mumbled without looking up.

Another pause. Longer this time. Your mind raced, trying to rationalize his behavior. Maybe he was planning something and wanted to throw you off. Maybe he was nervous about making today perfect. You told yourself a hundred maybes. Each one more desperate than the last. But the knot in your stomach tightened either every second that passed.

You couldn’t take it anymore, had your boyfriend not realized what day it was? “Jimmy?” You said softly, your voice teetering on the edge of hope and hurt.

“Yeah?” He replied, glancing up briefly before his eyes fell back to his phone’s screen.

You swallowed, your throat dry. “Do you know what today is?” You asked with a bit of hopefulness in your voice.

He frowned slightly, as though trying to piece together a complicated puzzle. “Uh… Saturday?” He offered after a beat, his tone light, almost amused.

Your heart sank, the weight of his indifference crashing down on you. “It’s my birthday,” you said, the words heavy and raw.

You thought for a moment that maybe he would feel bad, that he would apologize and beg you to let him make it up to you. But that wasn’t Jimmy. In fact, his face didn’t change much at all. He blinked once, twice, then shrugged. “Oh, I guess I forgot. Sorry.”

That was it. Two words—I forgot. Not an apology laced with guilt or the frantic rush of someone who realized their mistake. Just a shrug, like it didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter.

Your chest tightened, anger bubbling beneath the surface, but it wasn’t just anger. It was disappointment, heartbreak, the crushing realization that you had built this day up in your head while he hadn’t even thought of it at all.

“Jimmy,” you said, your voice trembling. “You forgot my birthday?”

He finally set his phone down on a nearby table, his dark brown eyes meeting yours. For a moment, you thought you saw something there—guilt, regret— but it was fleeting, gone before you could grasp it. “I’m sorry,” he said again, but it felt hollow, an afterthought. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind recently.”

You knew that was a lie as soon as Jimmy said it. Hell, Jimmy hardly had a life. He barely worked, barely kept up with friends, and he didn’t have any contact with his family. You wondered what could possibly be on his mind.

“A lot on your mind?” You echoed, your voice beginning to rise. “You’ve had a lot on your mind but couldn’t spare a second to remember the one day that’s supposed to mean something?”

He sighed, running a hand through his dark, messy hair. “I didn’t mean to forget, alright? It’s not that big of a deal. You’re here now, so what does it matter?”

The words hit you like a slap. What does it matter? You stared at him, the man you thought you knew, the man you had spent so many nights defending to your friends and family who warned you about him. The man who you had given your time, your heart, and your trust to.

You stood, card still in your hands. For a moment, you considered leaving it, letting it sit there on his table as a testament to what this day could have been. But then you looked at him—his indifferent posture, the way he was already reaching for his phone again—and you knew he didn’t deserve anything related to you.

Without another word, you turned and walked out the door, the sound of it clicking shut behind you was the only thing that broke the silence.

Jimmy sat there for a moment after the door clicked shut, the silence of the room suddenly weighing on him. His thumb hovered over his phone screen, but he didn’t scroll. Instead, he stared at the door you had just left out of, your absence settling into the space like a storm cloud.

She’s mad, he thought, running a hand through his hair. Of course, you were mad. He hadn’t even tried to remember your birthday. But it wasn’t like he meant to forget! Life had been stressful—work, drama, his own constant overthinking. Yet, none of that felt like a valid excuse now.

Jimmy leaned back on his old, poorly made, leather couch, letting out a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t the kind of guy who was good with emotions—his own or anyone else’s. But he wasn’t stupid. He knew what he had with you was good, better than anything he’d had before. You, somehow, always found a way to laugh at his dry, sarcastic humor. And the thought of losing you over something so stupid gnawed at him.

After what felt like an eternity, he stood up, grabbing his keys off the coffee table. He didn’t even know where’d you gone—back home, maybe—but he wasn’t about to just sit there and let you leave thinking he didn’t care.

The knock at your door startled you. You had barely set the card and your bag down on your coffee table, the frustration still bubbling under your skin when you heard it. You knew who it was. Part of you didn’t want to answer. You wanted him to stew in his own indifference. But curiosity got the better of you.

When you opened the door, there he was. His dark brown eyes were softer now, the usual edge in his expression dulled by something you couldn’t quite place. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, his hands shoved into the pockets of a black hoodie, something he wasn’t wearing when you saw him previously.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice lacking the usual sharpness.

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “What do you want, Jimmy?”

He glanced down, as if searching for the right words on the concrete beneath his feet. “Look, I…” he paused for a moment, looking annoyed before taking a deep breath. “I messed up.” He admitted, his voice gruff but sincere. “I shouldn’t have forgotten your birthday. That was shitty of me.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Yeah, it was.”

He looked at you, his brown eyes finally locking onto yours. “But I care about you. A lot. I know I don’t always show it the way I should, and I’m not great at this stuff, but…” he trailed off, glancing away for a moment before looking back at you and exhaling sharply. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best thing I’ve got, and I don’t wanna screw that up.”

The anger you felt in your chest softened, replaced by a flicker of something warmer. But, you didn’t want to let him off the hook entirely. He needed to learn, but hearing him admit it, seeing the vulnerability in his usually guarded expression, made it harder to hold onto your frustration.

You stepped aside, letting him in. He hesitated for a moment before walking in, the tension between you palpable.

Jimmy turned to face you, his hands now out of his pockets, fidgeting slightly. “I don’t really know how to fix this,” he admitted. “I didn’t plan a grand apology or anything.”

“Clearly,” you said, your tone light but pointed.

He gave a faint, sheepish smirk. “Yeah, well… I guess I’m trying to be honest. I care about you, and I know I don’t always show it the right way, but I want to do better.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of his words lingered in the air, and you could see the effort it took for him to say them.

Finally, you stepped closer, your arms dropping to your sides. “Jimmy,” you said softly, “I just wanna feel like I matter to you, that’s all.”

“You do,” he said immediately, his voice firm. “You matter the most to me. I just… I suck at showing it sometimes.”

“I know,” you said with a soft smile on your face. As soon as those words left your lips he closed the gap between you, his hands hesitating for a split second before settling on your waist. His touch was firm, but it was also warm and grounding. The earlier tension you felt quickly melted away.

After a moment, he pulled away, panting. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again, his voice low.

You looked up at him, your breath hitching slightly. “Don’t just say it. Show me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips were on yours in an instant, the kiss slow at first but quickly deepening as the frustration between you melted into something else entirely. His scruff grazed your skin, a familiar roughness that made your heart race.

His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as if he was trying to erase the space that had come between you earlier. You tangled your fingers in his dark hair, tugging slightly, and he groaned against your lips, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

His lips trailed from yours, skimming down your jawline, his scruff grazing your skin and leaving a delicious heat in its wake. When he reached the sensitive spot on your neck, nipping gently you let out a soft gasp. Your hands clutched at his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“God… ‘m such an idiot…” he mumbled against your skin, voice low and rough. “I almost let you walk away… I can’t do that again.”

You tilted your head, giving him more access to leave potential marks. Your breath hitched as his hands slid up your sides, brushing beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingers splayed against your skin, warm and possessive, as though he was staking his claim. You tugged at his hoodie, needing to feel him, to close the gap between you two in every possible way.

“Then don’t,” you whispered, placing a hand on his cheek to guide his lips back to yours.

His hands moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones before pulling back again, studying your face while his chest rose and fell heavily. “You mean so much to me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t say it enough, but you do. And I’m gonna make this up to you.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, his lips were on yours again, more insistent this time. His kiss was all-consuming, his tongue parted your lips as he deepened it, tasting you like he couldn’t get enough. His hands finally dared to move further underneath your shirt, one holding your hip firmly and the other grasping lightly at one of your breasts’.

Suddenly, your back hit the wall. The pressure stealing your breath for a moment. Jimmy’s body pressed into yours, the solid weight of him overwhelming in the best way. His kisses grew hotter, more desperate, as if he was trying to pour every once of his regret and affection into you.

The hand on your breast began to slowly message the plumpness of it, his rough fingers an insane contrast to your soft skin. It only made it feel all the better.

Your hands slid beneath his hoodie, fingertips brushing against the hard planes of his chest. He shuddered at your touch, a low groan escaping his throat that sent a thrill straight through you. You pushed the hoodie up, breaking the kiss long enough to yank it over this head, his dark hair falling messily back into place. You repeated the same action with the white wife beater he layered underneath.

The sight of him—his lean torso, the subtle definition of his muscles, the way his chest heaved as he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made your knees weak. You reached for him, and there he was again, his lips capturing yours as his hands slipped beneath your shirt, tugging it up and over your head in one swift motion.

“Damn,” he murmured, lips now against your neck as his hands skimmed over your newly exposed skin. “You’re… perfect.”

Your name fell from his lips like a prayer as he kissed you again, his movements growing more frantic, more heated. His lips moved down your chest, his teeth grazing your nipple, and you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word felt like an apology, a promise, and a confession all at once. The air between you was charged as you lost yourself in him, the world outside fading until there was nothing but Jimmy—his warmth, his touch, his love, raw and unfiltered.

And in that moment, with his lips on yours and his hands exploring every inch of you, you knew that despite his flaws, despite everything, this is where you belonged.

#I hope you guys enjoy this one 🙂#I’ll write a curly fic next!#mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #co pilot jimmy #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing game #jimmy zare #james zare #mouthwashing jimmy #jimmy x reader #jimmy mouthwashing x reader #jimmy zare x reader #slight smut #mei’s fics ✒️

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 7 months ago

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When They Know They're In Love ~ Jabberwock Edition

I will be doing the other houses and will link them here once they're posted (Frostheim and Vagastrom are already done). I hope you like this and if you did, please feel free to send in requests for what you'd like to see.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Haru Sagara, Towa Otonashi, Ren Shiranami x gn! Reader

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How do the characters know they're in love and what will they do when they realise?

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Ah, Haru. He knows what love feels like. That’s what he feels to all the anomalies he cares for (especially Peekaboo). So when he feels that towards you, he knows exactly what it is.

He probably notices when you’re helping out around Jabberwock, caring for the animals under his careful watch. You’re smiling and the anomalies seem to like your presence.

And Haru realises that if he’s the dad to these creatures, he wants you to be their parent as well.

He then immediately realises how creepy that sounds and back tracks his thoughts. When he confesses to you, he needs to make sure he doesn’t say something like that by accident.

Yes, he’s already thinking about confessing. He’s sure someone like you has many potential suitors and he doesn’t want to miss his chance. He’ll tell you his feelings and accept whatever answer you give him.

Towa knows straight way that what he feels for you is love. It really is a “love at first sight” situation.

He’s good at telling who people are at a glance and when he looks at you, all he gets is a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

Despite his certainty about his feelings, Towa won’t tell you outright. He doesn’t speak much anyway but he’d also rather make it a fun game. You’ve got to figure out how he feels about you based on his clues.

But that’s not to say he won’t show his affection for you. You’ll probably find him following you around (in a non stalkerish way) whenever you visit Jabberwock and he’ll seem more content when you’re near him.

Oh, and you think you’re going to get the usual amount of flowers? Oh no, that’s getting doubled. Tripled. You’re going to need to buy a lot of flower vases to keep them all in.

Poor Ren. He just wanted a simple life of video games and slacking off. Now he’s got a job, he lives in a zoo, one of his housemates keeps trying to feed him flowers, and the other one breaks into his room at all hours.

And now, on top of all that, he’s got feelings for you? Nope, sorry, that just won’t work.

He’s going into full denial of his feelings entirely to start with. Then, when he can’t do that anymore, he’s going into denial about what his feelings actually are. You’re just a really good friend. That’s all.

But he eventually can’t deny his feelings any longer and that’s when he really starts to freak out. He’s been so preoccupied with his own feelings, he hasn’t even considered yours. What if you don’t like him?

Yeah, it’s going to take Ren a long time to confess. You’ll either have to be patient with him or confess yourself. The choice is yours.

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Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment or reblog will mean just as much.

#writing #fanfic #headcanons #haru sagara #haru sagara x reader #towa otonashi #towa otonashi x reader #ren shiranami #ren shiranami x reader

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miyamoratsumuu · 2 years ago

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dating the pretty setter squad, with moodboards!!

pt. 2 - pt. 3

characters: t.oikawa, k.akaashi, k.kozume, m.atsumu, e.semi note: implied fem partner for all of them, lowercase intended. pictures used are not mine, all of them are found on pinterest!!:) (not proofread yet!! I'll do that a little later)

navigation . . . haikyuu masterlist

OIKAWA TORU "you deserve the whole world and more, darling"

look, toru's a sweetheart. he's the type of boyfriend to love taking you out on these romantic, fancy, peaceful dates. whether it be one or the other. sometimes he surprises you with a dinner date at this one restaurant where it takes weeks to get a reservation. other times, it's a quiet walk on the beach on a friday evening with the both of you talking about how your week went. and if you have your own idea of a romantic date, tell him about it. he's definitely all in for it, as long as you have fun as well.

he makes sure you two have fun wherever you go. even when you're in a random store of all places. mirror selfies, wearing accessories that were for sale, making a whole photoshoot out of the display of flowers at the front of the store.

there was this one time you oh-so conveniently found a pair of alien glasses and thought it would suit toru. you made him wear them to take pictures, but he didn't want you to be left out, of course. before you started taking pictures, toru found another pair of sunglasses that were heart shaped, saying "so you only have heart eyes for me, darling" as he handed it to you.

toru always makes sure that his hair looks nice. he doesn't like it when there are strands that are out of place or if it generally just looks really messy. but on the days when he's tired both physically and mentally, he's most likely to be in a state of vulnerability. and it's those moments where he'd like it for you to place your hand on top of his head and play around with his hair. he'll admit that he likes the feeling of your fingers running through his unsurprisingly soft locks. and if you even dare to stop, he'd immediately whine and tell you to continue what you were doing because he was just about to fall asleep.

we all know about his history with plaid pants. he even proposed to get a matching pair of those pants with you. you didn't think it would be a good idea since you couldn't think of a proper outfit you could make out of those, and you doubt you were going to be able to wear them often. instead, your persuaded toru into getting matching plaid pajama pants with you instead. reasoning that it would be way more comfortable, and that you'd be able to wear them almost whenever you want around the house.

I could imagine toru being a sort of morning person. he doesn't wake up super super early though. instead, he gets out of bed at around 6 to 7 or so. most times, you aren't even awake yet while he's already preparing to take a jog around the neighborhood. but on the rare mornings you were awake with him that early, he sometimes doesn't bother to go out on that jog anymore. he would rather spend the entire morning with you, with breakfast and maybe a cup of coffee by your sides.

AKAASHI KEIJI "I'll do my best to be someone that's deserving of you, my love"

every minute you spend with keiji is a time you could let your guard down all at once. because he assures you that he's someone you could trust and lean on no matter what. he convinces you either by words or his actions. whenever he wraps his arms around you, he makes sure to make you feel like you could depend on him to be your shield and safe space when you need a break from the world in general.

when he picks you up for the date he planned for the both of you, keiji is the gentleman that always brings you flowers. and before leaving, he would assist you in placing the bouquet in a vase and putting it somewhere in your house. there's a remembrance of the flowers keiji always gives you in almost every room of your house. there's a vase in the kitchen, two in the living room, and a couple more scattered around every table and shelf.

dates with keiji consists of trips to a variety of cafes, early brunches, museum visits, or spending quiet afternoons at the library. after recieving and paying for your orders at a cafe, the two of you either stay there to finish your food and drinks, enjoying the bustling atmosphere, or leaving to take a stroll wherever your feet take you.

the days where you end up having brunch are the days with the mornings you and keiji preferred to stay in bed for longer than you anticipated. you don't mind though, in fact you didn't think there was anything better than being in your lover's arms for a couple more hours.

you often go to museums to gaze at what you think are the most beautiful things you set your eyes on. although keiji begs to differ. because to him and his eyes, you're the most beautiful thing he could ever catch sight of.

during your visits to the library, he always introduces you to the books he just recently started reading, the ones that were his absolute favorite, and the ones he would like you to read with him. and if you read books as well, that's great! now both of you could geek about your favorite genres, authors, novels, books, and all. and he absolutely enjoys being able to talk to you about the things he loves. but then of course, you're the one keiji loves the most.

there was this one time that he asked you to read a book he liked so he could talk to you about it. you began to read it eventually, of course. but when you reached a certain page, you were suprised to see one of the characters'dialogues highlighted and encircled in pink with hearts scribbled around it."you are perfect for me". keiji was a gentleman. a gentleman that made sure to make you feel as if you were the most special person in the world. and of course, a gentleman that made you feel loved. so so loved.

KENMA KOZUME "you're so special to me, pretty. you have no idea."

you support kenma as much as you can when it comes to the subjects and things that he likes; and he knows that. so ever since you two began dating, he slowly gained more and more confidence to openly share his hobbies and activities of amusement with you. and you wouldn't have it any other way.

during the nights the two of you are together in one of your homes, one of you would always suggest to play a game or watch a movie. you almost always end up doing both, though. when you get bored while watching the movie, you switch to playing mario kart on the tv, and vice versa. because of that, it's often as well that the both of you end up staying way past the time you were supposed to, then you end up sleeping in the next day. (that usually only happens on the weekends though)

when the both of you planned on going a date that involves going outside though, it would always be an enjoyable time. when you and kenma went to the carnival one evening, you made sure you rode at least more than half of the rides that were available. of course, that involved walking around for who knows how long. and that wasn't something kenma would absolutely love to be doing on a sunday evening. at all. but then at the end of the day, he knew that the extra workout and sweat was worth it once he saw how your smile stretched from ear to ear while he was walking you home.

when you dragged him to the mall, he was expecting to be accompanying you on yet another shopping spree of yours. he was already imagining entering various clothing stores and you asking for his opinion on the outfit you wore every time you stepped out of a fitting room. what he wasn't expecting, though, was for you to lead him straight to one of the arcades he often visited himself. while you were buying your tokens, you noticed the look of confusion your lover threw at you. "lev told me they added tons of new games here! I wanted to try them out with you" you explained giddily. and somehow, that made kenma smile, before following you further into the arcade.

it's often that volleyball practice sucked out the small amount of energy kenma had left after a tiring day. and so on the late afternoons you came by the gym to pick him up so the both of you could walk home together and you noticed him looking worn out, you already knew what to do. you convince kenma that either one of you stay over at the other's place for the night, knowing that both of you needed the warmth of comfort of each other's presence to cool off after the long day you had.

ATSUMU MIYA "my whole heart belongs to you and only you, doll"

atsumu is definitely one of the most clingy boyfriends out there. every minute the two of you are together, he always has to be holding your hand. and if he's not, he has the urge to do it. when he's holding your hand, your fingers have to be intertwined too. he claims it's better than doing it any other way. you know this. you know how much better he feels whenever you hold his hand in yours. and so you try to do it as much as possible as well. he's grateful for that, if you didn't know. it makes him feel as if you're fulfilling your promise to always be there for him.

the first time he walked in on you doing skincare, he was intrigued to say the least. sure, he knew about it, and how it helps make you feel and look better, but he never actually got to learning hoe to do it for himself. and so ever since that day, atsumu always joined you when he sees you doing your skincare routine in the evening if he wasn't able to do it with you in the morning. he thought, now, he'd actually look like the better twin. (alright babes whatever helps you sleep at night<3) and on rare nights, he was the one who initiated doing the activity with you.

movie nights are a common occurrence between the two of you. but it's not the movie nights wherein you're laying down in the comfort of your own bed with each other and watching the film on a laptop that was propped up in front of you. nope. atsumu preferred to take you to the actual cinemas. especially those with the 3d experiences of the movies. he loves the thrill and extra excitement, yk.

he also loves to take you to places where the view is absolutely stunning. whether it's a perfect view of the sunset, or the city lights beautifully gleaming from afar. atsumu actually savors these moments with you. the two of you basking in the comfortable silence between the both of you, knowing of how each other's company alone makes you feel a whole lot better.

there was one time atsumu was complaining to you about how osamu and rintaro were teasing him again about his twin being the better one between the two of them. you continued to listen, despite not exactly knowing what to answer to his outbursts. that was until he stopped and looked like he was thinking of something. deeply, that is. he had his index finger tapping on his chin and all. you looked at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking of so deeply that it made him stop his rant. he looked at you then told you to follow him to the kitchen. on the way there, he started explaining what he was planning on doing. "I bet they only keep saying samu's the better twin 'cause he can cook or whatever. I'll prove them wrong! I can cook too, and you'll be ma' witness, babe". and so of course, that was exactly what he did. at the same time making dinner for the both of you along the way. all while you were taking pictures and short clips of him cooking because he " needed the proof to shove it to rintaro and his twin's faces". once he was done, it didn't even taste half bad. it wasn't the best, of course, but he made it with love and effort and that was what's important.

he's the guy to obnoxiously wrap his arms around you whenever it's possible. there was this one time that he was away for a family trip and when you visited their home once he got back, he immediately jumped on you, wrapping both his arms and legs around you once he opened the door and saw you were on the other side. it was a surprise the both of you didn't fall over straight away. but after a few more second of atsumu just staying there unmoving, he eventually fell to his bottom with you on top of him. "I guess you really did fall for me after all, huh angel" you instantly pushed him away when he began cackling. him saying that with a smug smirk on his face made it a whole lot worse. you love him for that, though.

EITA SEMI "just seeing you smile at me like that has me swooning, sweetheart."

like keiji, eita is a gentleman at heart. he's also the type to bring you small gifts to give you on your weekly dates. whether it be flowers, your favorite snack and candy, or a small plush toy. and while he's on his way to pick you up, he takes a picture of himself with the gist he's going to give you, sending it to you saying "I'm on my way, sweets, excited to see you already"

if you know how to play an instrument, then that's great! it only means that you and eita have more interests to share and you could jam together on late afternoons you have nothing better to do. but if you don't, that's fine as well, darling! if you'd like, he would absolutely be willing to teach you how to play guitar. but if you didn't, you'd instead be with eita in the room doing your own thing and being gorgeous while he practices. he doesn't mind, of course. he doesn't feel pressured of any sort. instead, he actually feels more relaxed and comfortable with you there.

I feel like he's the type to have a polaroid camera and love to take pictures on it with you. or, he would print your pictures in the style of a polaroid. he says it adds to that romantic feel of the memories the two of you make together. and that it would be easier to display around the things that he owns, like in his wallet, at the back of his phone, or just stuck to the wall beside his bed. for his favorite pictures of the both of you, he prints out two copies so that he could gift one to you.

when the two of you are on the train together on what you're assuming is going to be a long ride, you end up listening to music together one way or another. both of you always bring your earphones with you, but on the rare occasions only one of you did, you share. opting to play the one of the playlists the both of you made together, or one of the playlists you made for each other.

there was one time where you went to the mall with eita, satori, and wakatoshi. the other third years unfortunately not being available for the day. when you entered a music store and after a while of browsing around, satori called you and eita over. when you got to him, he handed you a record saying you should recreate it but with both of your faces hiding behind it. eita was reluctant at first, thinking that you might look like idiots to people that passed by but you liked the idea. you ended up doing it anyway, with satori taking the picture for you. even wakatoshi admitted that the two of you looked cute together in it.

eita writes songs for you. of course he does. and you love every single one of them. but you especially love the ones you could slow dance to in the evening in the comfort of the kitchen in your home. on a late night while the two of you were making midnight snacks with your playlist playing in the background, one of those songs that you especially loved played. giddily, you grabbed eita's hand, startling him and making him let go of the butter knife he was holding. but once he realized what your intentions were, he smiled and danced along with you to the song. he twirled you around and whispered in your ear once you looked at him in the eyes again. "you're absolutely stunning, love"

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