#if you’re straight - you really shouldn’t reblog this
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tofics · 2 hours ago
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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)
Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”  “I said yes,” you snap.  Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.
😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.
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S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.
“Your glasses broke.”  “Yeah. I see that.”  “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.”  “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
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Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
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“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.
S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
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“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
🫡 Sir yes, sir.
“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
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“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.
Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
🫠🙃🫠🙃
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
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“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
*inhales* - *screams*
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”
😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
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You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.
Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!
Seeing Red
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“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)
Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too
I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚
You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.
“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 
You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”
“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 
Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply.
“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 
“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 
 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 
“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.
“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 
You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want this,” you grouse.
“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 
“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 
Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”
“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 
“I said yes,” you snap. 
Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”
“Just okay.” 
‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 
Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 
-
He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”
“Mmm, no.” 
Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 
Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”
“Fuck off, Joel.” 
So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 
-
“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 
“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 
“What’re you talkin’ about?” 
“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 
Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”
“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 
Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 
“The other one.” 
You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 
So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”
“JESUS,” you yell at him. 
“What?”
“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 
 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 
“No. It was burning me.” 
“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 
You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 
“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 
“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 
“You can ask, you know.” 
But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”
“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 
“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”
“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 
“Yes.” 
He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 
“It’s not your business.”
 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 
“I don’t want to,” you whine. 
“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 
“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 
“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 
You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 
“All of it.” 
You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 
“Yeah. I see that.” 
“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.
“Right.” 
“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 
“Somewhere else.” 
“Right. Somewhere else.” 
He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 
“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”
Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 
“Yes.” 
Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 
“Good.”
Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 
Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 
-
My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 
“Joel.” 
No answer. 
“JOELLLL,” you yell. 
Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 
He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”
You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”
“Hm,” he hums.
“What’s hm?” 
“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”
“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 
Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”
“Try what again?” 
You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 
“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.
“Yeah, but-” you begin.
Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”
He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.
“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”
You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 
There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 
“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 
He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 
 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“Fuck me,” you whisper. 
“Exactly.” 
Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 
You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 
“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”
“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”
“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”
“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 
“Figures.”
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 
He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 
“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 
Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.
“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”
“Joel, I– ”
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 
 You obey his rule and nod, yes.
He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
Yes. You nod again. Quiet.
“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”
With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 
With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…
“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 
With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 
And fucks you, and fucks you. 
And keeps fucking you. 
It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 
This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.
 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 
“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 
“I’m - I’m–”
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”
 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 
He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”
“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”
“I don’t think I can, Joel…”
“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 
That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”
You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.
He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 
Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 
“Super, yeah. Sore.” 
“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 
If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷
Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months ago
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Seeing JJK men shirtless for the first time
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Pairings: (true form) Sukuna x fem! reader; Nanami x fem!reader; Choso x fem!reader; Gojo and Geto x fem!reader; Ino x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Ijichi x fem!reader
Word Count: 6k (this is literally one third of my bachelor thesis lmao)
Warnings: Spice in Sukuna's, a little bit in Choso's and in Toji's part, true form Sukuna so slight spoilers regarding his appearance, I'm sorry but Choso's part is a lil shitty
Notes: You guys...This has to be my biggest fic yet and let me tell you, I poured my heart and soul into this piece. So please, if you find the time, leave me a like, a comment or a reblog. I appreciate it more than you could imagine 🤍
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Sukuna
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You don’t even know how you ended up here. To be exact, it still feels like a feverish dream to you. Only one second ago, you were on your way to find your friends, injured with your shoulder throbbing each passing second. But now…
Your eyes roam around the barely lit area, gleaming in that unpromising red light that runs shivers down your spine. There is absolutely no logical explanation for how you ended up here.
“Sure took you some time to finally wake up again.”
That dark voice hollering at you, the sarcastic undertone in it. It’s a man, without any doubt. And just by the sound of his masculine voice you can tell that he’s build like a wall.
Is it wise to move forward, to discover this place? Well, standing here like an idiot definitely won’t help to find a way out of here, right? And you definitely need to find out who that man is…
“Who are you?”
Your voice gets lost against the tall walls, echoes back at you over and over again. But no answer.
“Are you the reason for me being here?”
There is no doubt in the fact that his eyes are all over you. Like a hunter, he roams around you in silence while your tingling nerves almost cause you to lose your mind. Who is he? Where are you? What is all of this?
Your feet dash forward once again. Straight into the darkness, chasing after a dim beam of light that catches your interest immediately. Maybe this is your way out, maybe you’ll get to meet your friends again, maybe-
Suddenly your breath gets stuck in your throat, feet stopping immediately. That thing…
You swallow hard, eyes fixated on the most muscular male upper body you’ve seen in your entire life. No, this isn’t a thing. This is a grown man.
“Stop staring at me like that”, he growls with his now familiar voice.
This is him, the person who talked to you earlier. You want to confront him, want to ask him for a way out, but instead you stare him up and down. Those oh so muscular four arms decorated by hypnotizing tattoos, a chest so broad it takes you all your strength to outstand the urge to press your head against it. But what really catches you off guard is his mouth. No, not the mouth on his face. Your gaze gets caught by the parted lips that cover his stomach, teeth exposed to threatful that the thought of getting killed crosses your mind for a split second.
“Are you done now, stupid girl?”
Before you even realize what’s happening, you find yourself lying in his arms, his body pressed so tightly against yours that you fail to breathe. His half naked body, muscles touching your bare skin…
Oh god, this is so wrong. There is no doubt in the fact that this is Sukuna in his true form, the king of curses in his full glory. And you? You are nothing but a tiny human compared to him, an ant underneath his boot.
But why does it feel so good, then? Why do your knees give him, why does your body start to throb in places where it shouldn’t?
A whimper escapes your lips, body almost collapsing into itself when you can feel his mouth there.
Against your bare skin.
Caressing the sensitive flesh of your thighs.
“If you just break into my kingdom like that, then I can do whatever I want with you”, he whispers against your ear.
“P-please”, you groan, not even knowing yourself what exactly you’re begging for.
“(y/n)?”
You close your eyes, searching for the feeling of his tongue against your skin.
“(y/n)!”
No, don’t open your eyes, don’t get distracted.
“(Y/N)!”
When your eyes dart open again, you aren’t greeted by Sukuna’s stinging gaze. No, the innocent eyes that look at you filled with worry belong to someone else.
“Man, you really have me worrying out here for you. You just broke down and started whimpering”, Yuji explains while lifting you off the ground.
Was it…all a dream?
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Nanami Kento
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Your heart races, blood rushing through your ears like electricity. You told him right from the start that leaving on his own wasn’t a good idea, that the injuries of other jujutsu sorcerers make you believe this might be a special grade curse.
But Nanami Kento never listens when you worry about him.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but it seems like there’s a gaping wound placed under my ribcage on my right side.”
You didn’t hesitate a single second, rushed after him with your little case like you always do. As Shoko’s co-worker, it’s your responsibility to look after injured jujutsu sorcerers. Even though you’ll never be as good as her, you will always make it your mission to help as fast as possible.
Especially him.
His signal grows stronger and stronger with every step you dash towards his location, mind racing back and forth. A gaping wound, what is that supposed to mean? Did he get hit by a gun, a curse? You don’t allow yourself to catch your breath, eyes focused on the little dot that comes closer.
“Are you alright, (y/n)? You really don’t need to rush to my side like that.”
A wave of relief washes over you when you see him leaning against the wall of a public toilet. But only until you catch a glimpse of the deep red tissues covering the sink and ground, his usual dark blue shirt discoloured in horrific crimson.
All colour drains from yourself while you lunge yourself at him, thick fear rushing through your veins.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You already lost a hell amount of blood”, you press out, inspecting the wound carefully.
This looks bad. Really really bad. If you don’t act right now, if you don’t start to use your technique immediately…
“Take off that shirt. Now”, you instruct him without waiting for his response while putting on gloves and showering your hands in sanitizer.
You fail to understand the meaning of your automatic words until he stands in front of you, bare chested.
Oh.
Your breath gets stuck in your throat all over again, eyes shamelessly discovering the way his muscular chest rises and falls steady.
“Did you just…”
Suddenly your mouth feels dry like the desert, mind unable to form a single sentence. Since you know Nanami Kento, you always know him as that well-dressed gentlemen in that suit that makes his butt look delicious and his shirt that leaves you pondering about the way he might look underneath when you’re supposed to work. There was never an opportunity to peek at more than his veiny forearm. And now this force of a man is standing right in front of your hungry eyes, showing you that reality is so much better than everything you could have imagined.
“Sorry, didn’t you tell me to take my shirt off?”
“I…”
When Shoko wasn’t around, you always pondered about the way he might look under his dark blue shirt. Do his tight muscles draw those valleys onto his belly you’ve seen on TV before? Does his biceps have that popping vein his forearms make you suspect?
You can’t help but allow your eyes to roam around his frame freely. That little scar decorating his chest. Is it from a fight? And that minor trail of untrimmed hair that lets your gaze wander to places…
“I don’t want to be rude but…I’m not feeling that well, (y/n). Would you mind treating me?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Blood rushes into your cheeks immediately, face heating up by the horrific thought that he caught you staring at his bare chest like an idiot. Fuck, he definitely thinks you’re nothing but a freak now. What if he’ll ignore you from now on? What if you won’t see him again after that? What a dumbass you are, didn’t you see countless men without a shirt on already-
“Hey, stop worrying. I’m more than flattered that I caught the attention of someone like you but…let’s do this when I’m feeling better.”
Your widened eyes fail to leave his oh so gorgeous face while your trembling hands go to work, mind too focused on what he just said.
“Let’s do what?”, you finally breathe out.
Is this…a smile forming on Kento Nanami’s lips? You feel like tripping all over again, heart pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you might pass out right by his side any given moment.
“I like the way you look at me, (y/n).”
What a simple reply. And yet, his words send you into another dimension.
“You…WHAT?”
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Choso Kamo
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Your body threatens to fail you, eyes in desperate search for Yuji. When Megumi finally gave in and told you he went out on his own, you almost lost your mind. Yuji, Sukuna’s vessel, on his own in Shibuya when everyone chases after him? Megumi definitely deserves another slap for that.
You sprint down the empty hallways of Shibuya’s train station, following the distant sound of battle. Please, let Yuji be alright. As his bigger sister, it was always your aim to protect him. When Yuji joined Jujutsu High, you did as well. When Yuji decided to fight in first row, you did too. There is no way you’ll allow your little brother to die, even though technically you aren’t related by blood. But even as your step brother, you can’t afford to lose him.
“Yuji?”
Nothing. Your body hollers back at you unanswered, mind slowly but surely starting to get into panic mode as the sound of cracking metal grows closer and closer.
And then you see it, the chaos that lays itself out in front of you dipped in neon purple lights. Blood is splattered across the area, the floor swimming in water that escapes the nearby toilet.
The toilet…You furrow your eyebrows. Is this… a wave of pink hair?
“Yuji?”
His eyes meet yours. The so determined gleam in them escapes instantly when fright replaces it.
“Get away from here right now, (y/n)!”, he screams at you just before a fist pushes him into a nearby wall violently.
Your brain threatens to fail you, body dashing into the toilet without thinking twice. Whoever this is will pay for hurting your brother so violently, for causing all this mess.
“Didn’t I tell you to walk away?”, Yuji questions with an irritated voice.
“And I told you more than once that I won’t leave you hanging!”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
“Are you two done?”
A male voice that makes you turn your head instantly. The second your eyes find him, your breath gets stuck in your throat. Oh, what a force of a man he is with strands of dark hair sticking to his wet face, his gorgeous eyes looking at you so unbothered. But what almost sweeps you off your feet is the way his robe allows you a single peek at his firm muscles that are lit by neon purple.
“Oh my”, you mumble to yourself.
Who on earth is this guy? Why is he fighting Yuji? But most importantly…Why does he have to look so steaming hot?
“Why are you not moving, (y/n)? Get out of here right now”, Yuji taunts urgently.
“What a waste”, you jeer at the man in front of you while taking a few steps towards him.
Choso can’t help but look at you bamboozled. How you move so confidently even though you don’t even know who he is, your eyes still fixated on…
His body? Are you looking at his abs?
“That a handsome guy like you acts like this.”
His eyes widen unintentionally, hands not daring to move. He should kill you right on the spot, should end your life just like that of Itadori Yuji. You’re partly responsible for the violent death of his brothers as well, given the fact that you’re also wearing that uniform. But his tight fists don’t dare to move a single inch, glued to his sides.
“Idiot, you don’t even know who you’re talking to. I will kill you just like Yuji Itadori, I will-“
“Will you, though?”
You come to a stand in front of him.
“W…What are you doing, (y/n)?”
Yuji’s voice shifts into the background. This definitely isn’t the first time you get close to a handsome man, but the others definitely weren’t that handsome. Just one look into his surprised eyes, the delicate marks on his face. And that force of a body. There is no doubt in the fact that this man trains a lot.
“I am distracting him, what else?”, you purr.
“I am not distracted.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Before he’s able to think about your words any further, you wrap your longing arms around his neck and hold him firmly against yourself.
“Because your eyes tell me something else.”
Now it’s Choso who fails to breathe. He never understood the simplicity of tender touch, the urge that drives humans almost crazy. What is so special about another hand placed against your skin, about lying in each other’s arms? He might have never understood if it wasn’t for you. You with your arm wrapped around his neck. You, with your free hand wandering down his chest, the wet fabric exposing his tight muscles without mercy.
In the split of a second, he begins to realize what touching each other seems to be about.
“Respect. Out of all the trained men I see on a daily basis, you have to be the most handsome one out of all. You work out a lot, don’t you?”
Your fingertips discover the valleys of his abs even further, force Choso to feel an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, has never seen you before. How is it even possible for you to have this power over him?
“None of your business, idiot”, he breathes out.
“What’s your name?”
Your voice does things to him his mind fails to understand, his sharp breath now hanging in the air between both of you. You are threatening, your glowy eyes showing more than urgently that you aren’t playing. But that slight smile on your face, the confidence dripping from every pore of your body…Who are you?
“Choso Kamo.”
“I’m (y/n)”, you reply while allowing your eyes to take one last glance at his tight abs.
Oh, you’ll definitely regret what you’re about to do. What if you won’t get to see him afterwards, the most handsome man you ever laid eyes on? There’s no other way, though.
“And I hope I’ll get the chance to be this close to you again.”
One innocent kiss pressed against his soft lips. One innocent kiss that sends him straight onto the ground, emerged into nothing but darkness. A pretty useful cursed technique, probably the reason why you get called femme fatale at Jujutsu High.
“What a shame, I really liked that guy”, you comment with Yuji coming to a stand right by your side.
“You didn’t have to touch his abs like that…”
“Oh I definitely did”, you reply instantly.
Your hands brush over his upper body one last time before you turn around and walk away.
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Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru
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What a lovely day. Well, lovely apart from the stinging fact that you are forced to babysit the vessel of Tengen-sama when a bunch of bounty hunters chases after you. Your shaded eyes roam around the area without any break, too scared of the consequences that carelessness could have. In contrast to Gojo, you take this task very seriously. You, who is nothing but an average jujutsu sorcerer at jujutsu high, surpassed by her classmates a long time ago. Who, who only got the chance to go on this mission by coincidence.
Well, and then there’s him.
“(y/n), why are you not wearing a bikini? We’re at the beach, aren’t we?”
Gojo Satoru, the honoured one. Of course, they would choose him to escort the plasma vessel. It’s only logical for him to be here.
“We’re on a mission, Satoru”, you remind him urgently without even looking his way.
“Hey, are you alright? There’s no need to be so tense, (y/n). We have everything under control.”
And then there’s also him, Geto Suguru. The boy with the most charismatic smile you’ve even seen, so gentle and kind that it’s almost unbelievable he’s even talking to Satoru.
“I won’t be tense when she’s finally with Tengen-sama. This mission is very important to me”, you mumble with your eyes fixated on Riko and Misato walking in front of you, completely unbothered by the fact that both of them almost died more than once.
“Hey, stop looking so serious, (y/n)! I’m here to save you if it get’s heated”, Gojo purrs from behind, literally forcing you to roll your eyes behind your sunglasses.
“Why do you always have to tease her like this? (y/n) can help herself and you know that”, Geto remarks instantly, letting himself fall behind to mumble something you can’t understand into his best friend’s ear.
You worked your ass of for this opportunity, always stayed longer than anyone else on the training field, always learned until far past midnight while everyone else was sound asleep. There was never anything except getting a better jujutsu sorcerer in your life. God, you didn’t even have a single boyfriend in all those years.
Enough. You straighten your shoulders and force your eyes onto Rika again. For now, you have a job to do. There’s no time to think about something so wasteful as boys.
Your gaze roams around the beach before you allow the plasma vessel to get into the water with a wink. No one but a little family without cursed energy is located around you, so everything should be fine. Also, Gojo would have detected an enemy with his six eyes. Gojo…where on earth is he, though?
When you turn around in order to follow his and Geto’s muted voice, your breath gets stuck in your throat. You really don’t know what you expected when going to the beach with both Suguru and Satoru, but that? Both of them wear nothing but shorts and a shirt – an opened shirt. Your gaze hits their bare chests one after another, races back and forth while your mouth opens on its own. To be honest, you’ve never seen a real guy shirtless. Maybe here and there at the swimming pool when you were training or at the beach. But they weren’t like them. They weren’t this toned.
“Enjoying the view, (y/n)? Looks like a cat got ya tongue, huh?”, Satoru jeers at you.
“Not every girl looks at you, Satoru”, Suguru comments dryly.
“Hey, are you alright, (y/n)?”
You missed out.
Fuck, you definitely missed out.
How is this he first time you saw both of them shirtless? Geto with a firm body that doesn’t match his soft personality at all. Gojo, who isn’t only blessed with his immense powers but with a god-like body as well.
“I…Uh…”
You can’t find words. How are you supposed to say anything logical when your heart almost beats out of your chest? They were never more than comrades to you, never more than strong jujutsu sorcerers you look up to. But damn, at this very moment, you truly see them as man.
Suguru puts his hand on his hip which makes his muscles dance delicately, head tilted to the side in sheer confusion while he walks towards you. Lord have mercy, you really are doomed. How are you supposed to concentrate on this mission when now you’re aware of how they look underneath those strict uniforms?
“Are you feeling unwell? It’s totally fine if you go back to the ho-“
“No”, you interrupt Suguru immediately when he puts his hand on your shoulder.
His bare hand.
While he stands in front of you with his bare chest.
You never longed for men. No, your only interest has always been your training, to become greater, better, faster, stronger. But at this very moment, when both of their toned bodies stare right back at you, you suddenly feel a weakness you’ve never felt before, a hunger that was unknown until now.
“Can’t you see that (y/n) is busy staring at us right now, Suguru? Bet that’s your first time ever seeing something apart from training”, Satoru teases you.
Faster than your mind is able to follow, he stands in front of you, grabs your wrists and presses your palm against his naked chest. His heartbeat pulsates against your fingertips, forces a warmth between your legs you’ve never felt before. Those tiny hair that tickle against your oversensitive skin, the heat that radiates from his body, that makes you almost faint.
You stumble back a few steps only to get caught by Suguru, who presses you against his body firmly.
“Hey, are you not feeling well?”
“I…I…”, you stutter.
Oh god, you feel like dying and flying at the same time, lying like an idiot in Suguru’s arms while Satoru still grins at you.
“Want me to take off my pants as well, (y/n)?”
“SATORU!”
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Ino Takuma
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“Why do I have to train with this jerk again?”
Your eyes roll backwards while you let yourself fall onto a nearby bench theatrically. God, how much you hate that guy, the way he always acts so competent around Nanami makes your guts turn in pure disgust. Doesn’t he understand that you are better than him, that you are Nanami’s favorite student? Ino Takuma doesn’t stand a chance against you.
But why does Nanami insist on both of you training together, then?
“Because both of you need to work on your abilities and you complement each other perfectly.”
“That’s not true!”, you answer along with each other instantly.
No, you despise Ino with all your heart. There’s nothing you could learn from him. Him with that stupid grin, him with that dumb confident walk, him in that oversized black sweater.
“I will be back after my mission. It is your choice how you spend your time until then. Stay safe.”
Fuck, Nanami knows exactly what he did with those words. Of course, there’s no way around spending your time with that jerk now.
“Can you stop breathing so fucking loud?”, you jeer at him.
“Me? Nothing but hot air comes out of your mouth. Save your breath, idiot”, Ino bites back instantly.
“You know what? Let’s start right now. I can’t wait to beat your puny ass.”
You dash to the other side of the large room after bumping into his shoulder provocatively. There is no doubt in the fact that you will make Ino regret coming into your life like this. You are the one and only one who deserves a recommendation from Nanami and not him. Just one look into his oh so confident face makes your veins pulsate.
“What’s wrong? Are you scared, (y/n)?”
You let out your shaky breath, hands balling into tight fists. That fucker will regret every stupid comment he ever made when you’re done with him.
“If you were as good at staying dumb stuff as you were at fighting, you’d probably be a special grade by now.”
He dashes towards you with his mask covering his face. Just in time, you are able to dodge his merciless attack while holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. Over and over, he tries to hit you, tries to distract you while you swing your swords without regard as well.
“I won’t lose this fight, (y/n)”, he presses out while pushing you backwards.
“I won’t either.”
Over and over, again and again, your body collapse against each other, his flying fist missing your face only by inches. You have to fight back harder, sweat sticks to your forehead while you squint your eyes in order to follow his rapid movements. How much you hate to even think about the stinging fact that Ino is a decent fighter, that both of you actually meet eye to eye.
You ball your fists even tighter, let your powers roam free in your pulsating veins. Still, you won’t allow him to win this. You will stump him into the ground, make Nanami proud, show him that you deserve his recommendation. This is your only way to become a grade 1 sorcerer, to surpass Ino.
With one well-placed dash of your bare hand, his sweater gets torn into pieces while you position yourself in front of him, so ready to give him that last hit he deserves, so ready to win this fight.
This fight…Your eyes follow the movement of your hand, watch how the black fabric hangs on for dear life, how it reveals something you’ve never seen before.
Your eyes widen in sheer surprise, blinking against the sudden sensation that hits you. Are those really Ino’s abs? So well-toned that you simply can’t look away, covered in a layer of glittering sweat and flexed to the brim.
“Oh my god”, you mutter to yourself.
This is definitely not the sight you expected. Of course you know how much he trains, that he has to be somehow fit. But that?
“Why you’re looking at me like that?”
“You look like fucking adonis”, you spit at him.
“Why do you have to look so damn good?”
“Huh?”
“This is not fair”, you continue, grabbing his arm and yanking him towards you.
“You don’t deserve to look like that.”
“Are you out of your mind, you idiot?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
Like in slow motion, a sudden redness creeps up his face and discolors his cheeks red.
“Just shut the fuck up”, he continues.
Your eyes travel downwards his body again. What a great figure, what a body of steel. Why does it have to be Ino Takumo who looks this damn good? Why on earth does it have to be him? Your cheeks heat up like fire, a nauseous feeling threatening to eat you up alive. Is it even more disgust, more hatred than you already hold for him? No, this feels somehow different.
Is this…desire?
“I need to get out of here”, you announce before turning on your heel and aiming to walk away.
“No, there’s no way in hell I’ll let you leave like that you creep. Did you just check me out? I thought you’re disgusted of me.”
He grabs your arm and pulls you backwards before you’re able to stop him, his eyes gleaming at you.
There you stand, both of you with red faces, just looking at each other like plain idiots while you force yourself to keep your eyes focused on his face.
“You don’t deserve to be this hot”, you reply in a haste.
Why do his lips suddenly look this inviting? You actually never saw him up-close, always kept your save distance to your greatest enemy. Ino is a jerk, nothing but a trash talker, a pain in your ass since you first saw him. But on the other hand, he’s well-toned and strangely handsome with the way a coat of sweat decorates his forehead, his troubled eyes and those lips. Those lips you never payed attention to, those lips who did nothing but talking shit until this day. You can’t help but wonder how they feel pressed against yours, how his abs feel pressed against the palms of your hand. Out of instinct, your head moves forward, closes the gap between both of you step by step. How did you never notice his delicate smell and how hot he looks with that mask?
“Ino”, you breathe his name out like a prayer.
“(y/n)…”
“What’s going on here?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You stumble backwards immediately, heart dropping to the floor. There he stands like a knight in shining armour. None other than Nanami Kento.
“I didn’t know you were still busy, I’ll come ba-“
“This is a misunderstanding”, you desperately try to explain yourself.
And there it is. Even worse than seeing him standing in front of you with his arms crossed after catching you only inches away from your worst enemy.
A smile. A tiny fucking smile forming on Nanami’s lips.
“Is it, (y/n)?”
“I hate you”, Ino mumbles next to you.
“I hate you too.”
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Toji Fushiguro
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To say that you’re bored is an understatement. You feel like fucking dying with that little brat walking by your side. These last days were like a trip to hell and back.
“Let me say I’ll never babysit some stupid kid again”, you announce into the silence around you, earning a cheeky grin from Gojo.
“Totally agree with that.”
“Oh yeah?”, Riko replies challenging.
Just seconds before a blade pierces trough Gojo next to you with full force.
Just before his blood splatters across your face.
“Satoru”, you hear Geto breathe out far away.
“Get Riko away from here right now”, you instruct him out of instinct.
When you turn around, you get greeted by the hottest green eyes you’ve ever seen. The man who forces his blade straight into Gojo’s chest looks stunning with that maniac smile plastered on his gorgeous face.
“Now that’s a pleasant surprise. Apart from piercing through my friend, of course”, you comment dryly.
It’s clear that he’s older than you. Just one glance into his masculine face tells you that he’s no one to be messed with. Well, separately from the sword he pierced through the honoured one.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt ya, princess. But you and your little friends have something I need to kill”, his low seductive voice hollers back at you.
“(y/n), you shouldn’t stay here, y-“
“I got this Suguru. Get Riko to Tengen-sama as soon as possible”, you interrupt him immediately.
Your heart almost beats out of your chest by only a glimpse at the stranger standing in front of you. Finally, something exciting. Or rather, someone exciting.
“C’mon, we both know I can’t let that happen, princess.”
“Get out of here as well and use your reversed technique, Gojo”, you instruct the white-haired man again.
“I’m the honoured one, remember?”
“Well, I’m a woman”, you hiss through gritted teeth while walking past him.
“Seems like we have to fight, then.”
His smirk is intoxicating while he dashes towards you with neck-breaking speed. Over and over, you escape his blade just by inches while enjoying the wave of dopamine that rushes over you.
“You’re hot”, you jeer at him while dodging another attack.
“Ya know, we don’t have to fight here. Lemme finish this real quick and then we’ll have a talk under four eyes”, he replies with his enormous biceps rushing over your head.
“A talk, I’d rather see you naked.”
“Oh yeah? Don’t force yourself.”
A grin creeps up your face while you attack him with both of your swords, swinging through the air so effortlessly that he can’t help but stare at you. How are you so different from all the women he’s met before? So fearless, so forbidden hot. Maybe not his age, but given the gleam in your eyes mature.
What he’d do to run his fingers through your hair once, to watch your expression twitch underneath his merciless touch. You’d sure feel good pressed against his body with your bare back pressed against the mattress.
“Oh no, seems like I broke your shirt. What a shame”, you purr with your eyes locked onto his now exposed upper body.
Just as you expected, exactly how you imagined a man like him to look like. A body built from heaven itself, his abs so firm that you’re sure they’d feel like cement underneath your touch. What a force of a man.
What a shame he came here to sabotage your mission.
“Would have happened sooner or later anyway”, he replies while pinning you against a nearby tree, desire obviously clouding his dark eyes.
You can’t deny the fact that you are oh so tempted to enjoy this little sensation, a timeout from that shitty mission. Carefully, you allow your hands to discover the valleys his upper body has to offer, to feel his muscles tense underneath your merciless touch. There’s no shame in admitting that this was your favorite first glance of a male for a long time.
“You’re probably my favorite.”
The smirk on his face grows even wider while he traps you between his strong arms. What a shame, you think to yourself. You definitely have to tell Gojo to work out even harder after seeing a guy like him.
“But I can’t afford to play favorites when it comes to men. You’re in my way and if you sabotage my mission, I’m screwed, big guy. Let’s just stay here and let that girl live-“
Suddenly all air escapes your lungs, you fail to breathe when he pushes your body onto the ground with full force.
“Thought you were in control, huh? Too bad for ya, I don’t get distracted by a girl touching my abs. Even though I have to admit you’re a nice one. Now you stay here and let me finish your little friend before killing that vessel, okay?”
Your eyes widen in sheer horror as he simply walks away. Him, with his shirt hanging in shreds down his body, exposing his shamelessly toned back to your watery eyes.
He tricked you with the force of his muscles. And you actually fell for it.
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Ijichi Kiyotaka
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Your heart is racing in your chest, fingertips trembling by the nauseous wave of stress that washes over you. Again, something you didn’t calculate correctly. Again, some students got stuck underneath a curtain.
Your feet rush you to his room immediately. He’s probably the only one who’s able to fix the mess you’ve caused. After all, this is what he always does. Making sure no one gets hurt, having your back when things get messy.
For you, Ijichi is a blessing walking on earth. And he might be your only saviour right now.
With rapid steps, you dash into the building you know so well, the building he calls his come. Even if blindfolded, you’d always find your way to the man who seems so powerless in a world full of people who are ridiculously strong. Forced into the shadow, always looking out for everyone except himself.
“Ijichi, I need your help, I-“
You dashed into his flat like you always do, expected him sitting on the table while reading a book like he always does when you come around. But today, that doesn’t seem to be the chase. All of the sudden your mouth starts to feel dry, eyes fixated on nothing but his naked upper body.
His naked upper body.  
“(y/n)! I…I didn’t expect you here today!”, he frantically mumbles while fighting for dear life with his white shirt.
“I never expected you to be so trained”, you breathe out, glance getting stuck on his surprisingly toned chest and six-pack.
“Don’t make fun of me, (y/n). I’m just an average guy”, he tries to laugh your words off.
“You look fantastic. Literally, you’re definitely able to keep up with Gojo. Are you training in secret?”, you insist.
“Don’t say something like that too loud, (y/n). If he hears you-“
“It’s nothing but the truth. You look absolutely…stunning.”
“Stunning” isn’t enough of a description for those butterflies violently racing through your stomach. It takes all your strength to stop your eyes from moving downwards again, to burn the picture of his toned abs inside your brain. How are you supposed to ever look into his face when knowing very well what an attractive man he is?
“Do you…mean it?”
His eyes meet yours, search for a spark of sarcasm in your glance. But there is no doubt in the fact that you mean it. Every single word you said about his lousy body, the praises.
A woman like you…Finding him attractive?
“Of course I do”, you mumble.
Oh.
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seoulmatez · 1 year ago
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒮𝐸𝒳𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒮𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮 — the setters and their top kinks
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info ⭑ includes: miya atsumu, oikawa toru, akaashi keiji, sugawara koushi, semi eita ノ f!reader, nsfw (minors do not interact) ノ degradation ノ impact play ノ daddy kink ノ dumbification ノ edging ノ body worship ノ praise kink ノ dacryphilia ノ virgin kink ノ corruption kink ノ all characters written 18+.  
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₊˚ପ⊹ ATSUMU + DEGRADATION & IMPACT PLAY
he’d never call you such lewd, dirty names outside the bedroom, but he can’t ignore how each one goes straight to your pussy. his personal favorites are “whore” and “toy”. he never thought he’d find so much pleasure in bullying, humiliating, you. and he’ll never get over the way you tighten and flutter around his cock when his hand makes contact with your clit or ass. your surprised squeals are like music to his ears and the marks he leaves behind are always a pretty reminder of the night’s activities the next day.
“listen to you, whimpering like a whore when i slap your ass. i’m starting to think you like getting spanked. mm, maybe i should give you another one.”
₊˚ପ⊹ OIKAWA + DADDY KINK & DUMBIFICATION
he gets some sort of rush from hearing you call him daddy. maybe it’s the way you peer up at him through your lashes as you do so. or maybe it’s the blatant embarrassment that you try and fail to hide by biting your lip. can you blame him for wanting to see you completely fucked out? you’re just so pretty when your eyes are staring off at nothing, tongue lolling from between those soft lips. he can’t help the sense of pride that swells in his chest when you’re reduced to such a mess, and all because of him.
“you stopped talking, princess. did daddy really fuck you that hard? can’t even think straight while you’re taking this cock, huh?”
₊˚ପ⊹ AKAASHI + EDGING & BODY WORSHIP
his hands wander about your figure as his mouth travels down every inch of your skin, only ever stopping to tell you how gorgeous you are. you deserve the world and he’s set on giving it to you, even if his method seems slightly cruel. by now, he’s an expert at continuously getting you nearly to your climax and pulling you back just before you can reach it. he’s a patient man and is more than willing to spend all night in the bedroom if that means giving you the most earth shattering orgasm you could imagine.
“god, you look so beautiful like this. you want to come? don’t worry, you only have to wait a little longer, angel. i promise it’ll feel good.”
₊˚ପ⊹ SUGAWARA + PRAISE & DACRYPHILIA
you’re such a sweet thing for suga, always doing what you’re told and making the prettiest noises for him. why shouldn’t he let you know how much he adores you—how proud he is of you? the smile that graces your face and the sparkles in your irises at his approval are really all he could ask for. but a little part of him can’t help but get excited whenever he sees tears of pleasure pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. maybe he’s greedy; or maybe he just wants a reward of his own.
“you did so well for me, my good girl. and you look so pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks. should i clean them up for you?”
₊˚ପ⊹ SEMI + VIRGIN KINK & CORRUPTION
he has this unexplainable desire to take you—someone that was once pure and untouched—and make you his own, to ruin you as he pleases. of course, he’d never tell you so; where’s the fun in that? he’s fixed on watching the authentic experience of your first time. he wants to see how your face scrunches up in pain before it turns to pleasure. he wants to hear your breath catch in your throat before you’re moaning in ecstasy as your orgasm hits. he needs to be the one who gives you a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.
“is it everything you thought it would be? yeah? i never pegged you as the type who liked being used. guess i got lucky with you.”
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hihi~ manz here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
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hyewka · 1 year ago
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can i suggest a fic where beomgyu is helping take the reader’s mind off a bad breakup…. by fucking the living SHIT out of her NDJDNDJDJDJ
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while i fuck you straight | c.bg
warnings; hard dom best friend!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected + pullout method, breeding kink, a spank or two, praise + degradation (mostly praise), slut shaming, rough marking, a tinge of possessiveness, friends w/ benefits, no romantic feelings involved (or are there?), ruined orgasm, princess pet name, beomgyus an insatiable manwhore lol, needy perv gyu with a lot of spit play, fingering, titty sucking hehe, literal messy filth and also barely proofread on my end
a/n; have to thank jazmine with all my heart for proof reading and giving suggestions, i love you so much 😭 @heart2beom this shouldn’t be a big deal as it is, but it is my first time writing full on dom beomgyu so it is this mini celebration for me and all the dom!gyu enthusiasts (i hope) 😇 reblogs are appreciated, keeps me going
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You held your phone above your face, scrolling mindlessly through your socials, though subconsciously, you were really just awaiting a call from your boyfriend. Well, now ex-boyfriend. It's already been a week since you got dumped but no matter what went down that day, you couldn't get over him.
It was pitiful every time you jumped up from your bed at a notification just to find it was in fact not your ex asking to take you back and ...just a random spam email.
Beomgyu had his back against your bed, legs sprawled on the floor, also on his phone. You guys had run out of things to talk about when every conversation spun its way back to your ex- Seen that new marvel movie? You wanted to watch it with your boyfriend. That professor just got fired! You remember your boyfriend used to complain about that class. Gosh, you don’t think you’ll ever get over him.
"You're miserable." Beomgyu suddenly brings up.
You groan, as you repeatedly refresh your feed. "Gee, thanks Beomgyu. That definitely doesn't make me ten times more miserable."
He lets his head fall back on your bed, looking up at you through an upside down lens, abandoning his phone. “No, like truly miserable. I’ve never seen you so up and dry and…sober. Be young, live a little.”
You narrow your eyes at him, looking past your phone for the first time in a while. “…You talk like you’re 80 years old, about to retire and wallow in self pity, having experienced all there is to life. Thanks Gyu but no thanks.”
“I’m an old soul Y/N.” He says patting his chest, and you roll your eyes. Not necessarily refuting it, it’s his entire personality. “Where’s the chick I used to know anyway. The old Y/N would’ve been over this in a day with a quick hookup rebound.”
You finally put your phone down, staring up your ceiling. He was totally right. Who else would be right about you if not Beomgyu? But you don’t want to think about your old self, or you’d start sobbing again. Not like you were a totally great person, but that person wouldn’t be so stuck on someone. Anything but being the lovesick, doting person you would’ve made fun of just a year ago. God, he really changed you hadn’t he?
You kick your feet, whining, falling into the abyss of treasured memories. “You don’t understand, he was different, he—he was the one, you know?”
He ponders for a bit, room silent, staring at you through his soft lashes, and you think that maybe he’ll give it you; sympathize and understand that grieving was the entire process of a first love. The silence is suffocating when finally, he lets out a light scoff, cutting through it. “No, no I don’t know. Bet you just got soft.”
“God, fuck you Beomgyu.”
He grins his stupid grin that the situation definitely doesn’t call for, “You wish.”
You think if he wasn’t with you through thick and thin for the past four years, you would’ve definitely developed some sort of hatred.
You could visibly notice a lightbulb spark above his head with the way he immediately sits up straight. “Hey, hey wait.”
You tentatively watch as he turns his back away from you, laying both his arms on the soft cushion of your mattress. “I think I might’ve just had the best idea ever. Of the century. The idea of the century.”
“I highly doubt that.” You say, blindly feeling the surface for your phone already.
“Just hear me out,” he whines noticing your eagerness to dismiss him. “But also don’t freak out or anything. Promise me.”
You stare at him, hesitant before you give in to his doe eyes. Sighing, you say: “Okay. I promise I won’t ‘freak’ out. What’s your groundbreaking idea?”
“We should like… fuck.”
Your brows are slow to raise, the rapidness of your blinking at what you think you just heard—no, not think, know. Beomgyu’s voice, loud and clear with his diction, your eyes widen at the final click of it all. Before you know it, you’re reaching for the pillow behind you, flinging it at him with all strength.
It’s like he predicted it prior, dodging one… and then another as you throw all remaining pillows on your bed. Instead of missing with your last one, you decide to hold on to it, and attack him with it. His smug demeanor of successfully dodging everything just a second ago, dissipates as he takes cover for protection. “Are you fucking—are you crazy?!” you yell exapserated, more than awake with your wide eyes.
“Ya! You—you promised you wouldn’t freak out!” When that doesn’t stop your mania with the damn pillow, he decides to lay it all out with as much speed as he can’t seem to escape your wrath. “You want to forget him don’t you? I mean, you should! He dumped you, it’s over! Sulking over him is—Ow! So out of character for you—fuck—I promise a one time fuck would get your mind off him.”
Your pillow is mid air, and Beomgyu opens an eye to peek, hands still in protection mode—you sigh, landing a weak hit on his head before loosening your grip. You do want to forget. You’d do anything to get rid of what you’re feeling. But…
“It—it wouldn’t change anything for me. If that’s a worry. You know that no matter what, you’re my best friend.” He finds his footing, collecting himself, looking at you with intensity you could date back to just a few times over the course of your very long friendship. “Someone I care about. I can’t stand seeing you hurt and not being able to do anything. You know that.”
You bite down on your lip, staring at the familiar boy with his familiar brown bed of hair, and his familiar eyes, lips…How fast did he get you to actually give this a thought? Probably a minute or two. Beomgyu had a way with convincing you to do …anything. “I…know. But what if, what if I’m still head over heels in love with him? What if it doesn’t change anything for me?”
A grin gradually takes over his face, one that is once again, not fitting for the situation. “Why—why are you smiling like an idiot? This is—”
“It’ll change.”
You knit your brows together. “What?”
You don’t notice the way Beomgyu’s hand slowly inched to yours but suddenly, his palm was over your hand, squeezing it just a bit. “Having sex with me is a once in a life time opportunity. You’ll forget him. I promise.”
If you weren’t so lost in his eyes, as cliché as it sounds, you would’ve been completely taken out—probably a joke on his sheer confidence because who just says that? But he’s so …hypnotizing as you don’t even take notice of the ‘okay’ that leaves your lips.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” You exhale, “Okay. We’re adults. This won’t matter in a few weeks. Let’s do it.”
Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate for more than a few seconds before he was on your bed, crashing his lips on yours, a brief taste of strawberry lip balm, knocking a breath out of you until he slows down, testing the waters, then he stops, noses brushing against each other as he searches for something in your eyes, breathing already heavy, “Is this weird? Was that weird?”
You gulp looking down on his already glistening lips, and you nod. “The—the situation, not …the kiss. Fucking your best friend is an odd situation. The kiss…the kiss was good.” You ramble, your voice barely a whisper but he catches it anyway as you take notice of a small smile before he’s kissing you again, hands once cupping your cheeks already moving down to your tits, ministrating gently—every bit of his action seemed careful, too careful for what you know of the things your friends had told you in heated rants and swoons.
Half of the dictionary could be used to describe Beomgyu, and promiscuous was not an exclusion. You could probably say you already fucked him with the headache inducing details about what being with him in bed was like. Which is why you’re nervous as hell right now. From what you know, Beomgyu was… a lot. More than you could handle now, after an entire year of keeping yourself to one man.
“Jaehyun was worried about you. Was worried about what you’d do to me.” You blurt out randomly when Beomgyus’ moved to peppering feathery kisses along your jawline. He hums against your skin, then stops for a second to whisper, “He was?”
You could feel the smirk on his lips, opening his mouth a tiny amount to slightly suck on your neck at the process of your words—of course Beomgyu would get an ego boost from this. “Why?”
Beomgyu is practically suffocating with how little space he’s giving you, body flush against flush, your chest heaving the rougher he increasingly gets with his marking, his sly hand down to rub between your thighs, right at your core.
“Said you only wanted to get into my pants—h-ha shit, slow down, slow down Gyu.” You were getting teary eyed by his increased speed, friction against your sweats getting you wetter by the second whenever the pad of his finger teased your slit. “You know he—he asked me to stop hanging around you b-because—”
None of this was new to Beomgyu, your past boyfriends have always been worried about him for the exact reason—that he’d convince you to let him fuck you, because apparently women can’t have male best friends without it being more than platonic. But …you guess you aren’t really proving them any wrong now with the way you were letting him have his way, marking messy purple splotches all over, in hungry predatory manner, getting rougher and rougher by the second. You gasp when he abuses the same spot he just visited a few seconds ago, “Beomgyu!”
“Because?”
He presses on your aching core, pending you with the question. He didn’t seem as happy as he was with his smugness prior. “Because he thinks you’re a sleaze.”
An incredulous— mean chuckle from the back of his throat and suddenly his hand was down your panties, abandoning the long game of teasing in matter of seconds. He doesn’t touch you though, which only proves to make you more insane. “That’s dumb. Do you think I’m a sleaze?” You shiver, his deep voice so close to your ears, breath fanning against your cool skin—your eyes could go sore from how hard you’re shutting them closed.
You refuse to give it all to him, it makes you feel embarrassed and small. A new, foreign feeling you never thought you’d experience with Beomgyu of all people. “I-in some ways, yes.”
Not a satisfying response from you, he clicks his tongue like you were a misbehaving child, “You’re really annoying, you know that?”
You don’t get a chance to retort before you feel the pad of his finger prodding your pussy, then moving to gather your wetness.
Suddenly, he freezes his movement, pulling back from your neck, looking at you with an amused glint to his dark eyes. “Shit, you’re fucking drenched. And I barely did anything—”
You think he’s making fun of you so your cheeks quickly flush red, already putting up walls of defence but then he kisses you in the heat of the moment, wiping your frown away and you’re finding yourself reciprocating without a second thought—the kiss so sloppy and messy, string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away out of breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot princess. You’re so hot.” He breathes in awe of the spit—he truly is the biggest perv.
“Spread your legs for me.” he groans, trying to get better access to your pussy. You obey, admittedly a little slow, but who can blame you? It feels embarrassing regardless of who, but it’s ten folds with your best friend. “Moreee.” he whines, and god you wish you could slap him—can he not see that you’re trying?
“Beomgyu—“
Your voice gets cut off, gasping when he takes it upon himself to pull down your sweatpants with a quick swift motion, taking it off completely, revealing your patterned underwear—and god, now you’re hiding your face…everything was so embarrassing. He takes a second to examine the wet dark spot right in the middle, proof to what he felt earlier, but then you kick your feet. “Stop staring freak!” you shriek.
You can see through the cracks of your fingers the smirk he has on, looking at you with so much intensity you think you’d melt. He reaches out to grab your hand and put it down, even through your resistance, you couldn’t match his strength to your dismay. “I wanna see your face. Have to let me see you fall apart on my fingers like a little slut.”
You’re scandalized at his wording, your cheeks once again quickly heating up. But you let him part your timid legs anyway, big hands gripping the softness of your thighs, spreading your legs as much as he possibly could, to the point you felt yourself cramp up. But even with whines of protest he doesn’t ease up—bunching your panties to the side, impatient when finally he inserts a digit—experimental with his movement before you hear him groan out a curse. “You’re so tight holy shit, did he even fuck you?”
“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”
Your senses are already overflowing, you could feel his hard on, his erection pressed on your bare skin, you’re hyper aware of the finger inside you—slender and slow with expertise as he pushes in and out, talking to you as if you could respond with anything more than restrained mewls. “Maybe dating him was good, then you had to be monogamous and not whore around with every guy you laid eyes on like you used to.”
“I-I never whored around—shit.” He suddenly speeds up, a merciless grin spread on his face—did he find messing with you funny?
“Yes you did. It was a new guy every…it was weekly, wasn’t it?”
You shake your head at his accusations, tears brimming when his mouth finds it use, suckling harshly on your nipples through your flimsy top—your body extra sensitive with the way you spasm on a singular finger. He pumps in two without warning and you yelp, hand reaching out to grab at his hair. You swear you could cum just from the stretch. “Stop denying it, you’d do anything for dick. I’m surprised you stayed so long with that bitch. Was he any good?”
One thing you won’t do is tell Beomgyu details of your sex life with your ex. You refuse. But Beomgyu is stubborn, and he isn’t one to give up so easily. Especially if he feels like you’re withholding information from him. “Tell me.”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
He raises his eyebrows in mocking shock, “No way. He never made you cum?”
Your nostrils flair from pure embarrassment and shock. How’d he know? You quickly try to control your expressions, masking it to not give him a hint that his guess was right, but he knew you too well. You hate that. Especially now.
“Can’t believe you’re hung up on a man—fuck, baby are you close? Hung up on a man that never made you orgasm—shit,” He breathes, rubbing his clothed dick on your thigh, getting off at the sight of your face. You really are falling apart. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll take care of you.”
You tighten your hold on his hair, feeling yourself get close as you grind down on his fingers, chasing your high, choosing for your sanity to ignore all his sweet talkings.
“Gyu, gyu I-I’m gonna—No—no-why? God, fuck you, you’re such a—such a dickhead!”
Beomgyu just ruined your orgasm by completely taking out his fingers, you could practically cry out of frustration and yet he didn’t seem the least bit sorry. Instead, he makes a show of licking his fingers, the ones he just had in you, swirling his tongue and sucking them clean while making direct eye contact. You cower a little but still keep your eyes on him. Now you aren’t sure if you could stay as bitter.
You blink rapidly to collect yourself, because holy shit, you’re getting weak for…Beomgyu. “Why’d you do that? I was close Gyu.” you say exasperated.
He unbuckles his jeans, “I said I’d take care of you, just trust me.” Zipping down his pants, he’s quick to drop it down to his knees before completely abandoning them on the floor.
He flings his cock out of the restrictions of his boxers and you’re practically drooling at the pretty sight. He isn’t the biggest you’ve seen but he definitely has the girth—his tip leaking pre cum down his length, hands trying to lube it with his spit. “Beomgyu, condom.”
“I don’t have one.” He breathes, already on you as he lays wet kisses down your collarbones before he gets irritated with your shirt and takes it off, revealing your bare tits. “God, you’re so sexy.” He drawls, sucking hickeys all over your chest in hunger.
You wish you didn’t have to, but you resist his touch and in turn he lets out an annoyed whine, his voice vibrating against your exposed skin. “Beomgyu, we can’t—we need a condom.”
He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout, the cutest you’ve seen him this entire day. “I’ll pull out, I promise. Please, I need you right now.”
In that moment of weakness, his tone so needy, as if he really did need you made you feel some sort of power—like you were the hottest, sexiest woman in the world. And so you bite your tongue, and trust Beomgyu to not ruin your life. You’ve done that quite a few times.
“Swear you’ll pull out.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I do.” You say with conviction. “I do, obviously. It’s just-”
“I know. Take a breather for me. Said I’ll take care of you, didn’t I?”
You could feel him lining up to your entrance, his tip prodding your hole, and you’re already getting desperate. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” you breathe.
“Stick your tongue out.”
You do, not sure what to expect until Beomgyu spits, letting his saliva slowly fall down in your mouth. “Swallow.” he demands, his low voice making you shiver—dark eyes watching every twitch of your face intensely.
You gulp his saliva down your throat, obeying and suddenly his expression morphs into lust you’ve never been met with before. You don’t even get to process it for longer, bask in the attention you’re getting before he’s pressing your thighs to your body, pushing into you with a deep groan—filling you up to the brim, your cunt not prepared for the aching stretch. You can feel each vein against your walls, you can feel his slight twitching, you can feel everything. “Fuck, fuck you’re made for me. You’re perfect—shit, you’re perfect princess.”
“Gyu—” you cry out, gripping the sheets under you. It was too much, too much for him to already start slamming his hips. “Gyu what—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hits your g-spot, your face scrunched up, hot as you let out lewd sounds with no control of your own, throat strained already. It's not a surprise he manages to find it on his first try, despite it catching you off guard with the sudden wave of pleasure.
“Should’ve fucked you sooner. Get your little pussy molded just for my dick. You would’ve liked that, right princess?” He breathes out in a long winded babble, his hips unrelenting with each thrust, already quickly building up to be in erratic speed. Through your blurry vision you could see his eyes focusing down on the jiggle of your breasts lewdly, drool trickling down the edge of his lips, the brutal slapping sounds of them from his roughness getting his head light with ecstasy. You’re more than aware of what he wanted to do when he lets your legs rest from the ache of angling them so high. Dirty pervert.
You can’t handle him playing with your tits again, you were too sensitive for anything more than you’re getting but you can’t find it in your throat to say anything before Beomgyu gives in to his lust, leaning down to attach his mouth to your sore nipple. Abusing it as he suckles harshly, muffled moans against your breasts.
His pace getting quicker, clearly getting off from sucking your nipples like a dumb baby. It was getting you embarrassingly close, your pussy clenching around his dick. “Princess. My princess is so—mmf—so perfect.”
“Stop calling me that.” You manage to squeak out. Hes been using that nickname the entire time, and though it was easy to ignore everything else, the nickname was affecting you more than you’d like to admit.
He detaches from your tits, slowing his movement, looking up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh? Princess? Why?”
“He—he used to.”
He blinks a few times before his lips draw into a sneer, clearly irritated and you’re about to backtrack, but it’s too late. Your eyes fly wide open, breath stricken when he, with no mercy, picks up his speed again, drilling his dick so far into you, you think there’s probably a bulge showing through your stomach—its when you let the tears stream down, let yourself go as he fucks you dumb with each sharp thrust serving as a punishment. But for what exactly? For mentioning your ex? Did he hate him that much?
“You can replace your memories of him with me princess. I know you can do that, I’ll make sure you do. You’re my princess, and I’m the only one who can call you that. Remember that, yea?”
You nod up and down, and he leans down to give your lips a peck, one then two then three until he loses it and it starts getting heated, tongue messily intertwining, spit exchanged in desperate action. Drilling his dick in and out your sopping pussy, squelching pornographic like sounds filling the room—you think you’re screaming at this point, mind too clouded to be fully present. You’ll definitely hear a word or two from your neighbors.
“Fuck princess, are you close?” he hisses, “I’m close too, so close. Tell me when you get there baby, okay?”
You manage to nod, pressure quickly building up
Suddenly you feel him force in a finger in your pussy, stretching you out to unimaginable degrees. “B-beomgyu—I’m cumming, I’m—” your panicked hands at the intense feeling reach out to grab at his chest, crumbling his shirt’s fabric, using the last bit of your strained voice to moan his name, your orgasm so overwhelming you genuinely start seeing white, body shaking as you try to calm yourself down. “F-fuck.” you breathe out.
The way you still clutch onto his arms pushes Beomgyu to his high too, quick to pull out of your gushing pussy before a mistake happened. It takes only two strokes before he’s spurting his seed all over your tummy, biting down a groan, obsessively taking in each inch of your body’s ruined state.
He did this. He ruined you.
The only thing filling the room being the heavy breaths of you both, Beomgyu’s hair plastered onto his forehead from sweat, yours disheveled, a complete mess. Suddenly, a notification ding goes off, and your attention’s snapped to your side. “It’s my phone.” You awkwardly point out, noticing the light before reaching your arm to get it to you.
He doesn’t move from his position, still practically hovering over you. But you try not to focus too much on it, instead taking a quick look at your notification.
Your brows twitch in surprise at seeing the message on your lock screen. Fuck, it’s your ex! Did he want you back? So miraculously? After fucking your best friend?
Without any thought, you unlock your phone, trying to skim where the ellipses left off. It was a long message and—
“We just fucked. Can’t you wait a few minutes before going on your phone— Are you texting Jaehyun?” His warm smile turning to utter rage gets you stuttering.
“No I—well—yes, but—” you fumble on your words, not knowing how to explain—not knowing why you feel like you should explain, but Beomgyu isn’t one to play around clearly, as he snatches your phone from your hand and throws it to god knows where before your body’s turned around like it was nothing to Beomgyu, like you were some ragdoll. Pushing your hips up to have your ass up in the air with your face pushed into the sheets. “B-beomgyu wha..—”
Slap. Your whole body jerks at the impact of his hand, feeling yourself get teary eyed again. “Beomgyu what the hell?” You shriek, trying to squirm from your position, your ass burning. Then you get another slap, and your legs start to shake, bottom lip wobbling at the painful feeling of his rings.
“I promised you I’d make you forget him. Clearly one fuck wasn’t enough to get your mind off that asshole.”
Your panic only lasts a millisecond at feeling his tip for a second time before you’re abusing your throat again at the oversensitivity of having Beomgyu’s dick slam into your pussy, fucking your juices back in. He’s rougher now, ten times rougher. Maybe this was what all your girlfriends were describing to you, the feeling of having Beomgyu’s dick rut into you like wild feverish dog, fucking you like all you are is a pair of limbs, just for him to hound.
You can’t think straight, not a single word coming out of your mouth is intelligible, all slurred together dumbly as he ruthlessly digs his fingers in your hips, helping you find rhythm, your body reacting on its own as it syncs with his thrusts, moving your hips enough for him to let a hand go to the back of your head, further pushing you into the mattress, drool messy staining your white sheets, loud muffled wails filling the room.
“Fuck, you like this don’t you? Getting fucked like a bitch?” your hear him growl. You don’t know what comes out of your mouth, you don’t know anything right now, because you are being fucked like a bitch while thinking like one too, your nose running with your tongue uselessly out like something out of a porno. “Should I breed you like a bitch too? Huh? Will that make your pretty little head forget?”
At that, you cum again, and he sneers, a mean laugh at noticing your orgasm, “You want me to breed you princess? Make you round with my seed?” he drawls each vowel mockingly like you were a dumb kitten and he had to explain a really simple concept—still ramming your cunt, not giving you a fair chance of responding.
That’s how it goes for you’re not sure how long, Beomgyu switching positions to have your leg draped over his shoulder as he fucks you to oblivion, making you orgasm over and over again, before you really feel like you had blacken out at some point only to find yourself waking up to him still going at it—your entire body sore, down to every inch, your nipples especially swollen from all his sucking. He never cums inside you, instead emptying his load all over your body, making you basically a show of his dried semen.
You trust him, even when his tendency to go far never died down no matter how much he got older. “You awake?”
You flutter your eyes open, a dark room, and Beomgyu. His face is abnormally close to yours. “What happened?” your voice comes out very strained, your throat hard to use. Great, you entirely lost your voice.
“Think I might’ve had my balls in…too deep.”
Even a chuckle hurts every bone in your body, holy shit, how were you going to go to work tomorrow?! “Hey, don’t move around too much, I already cleaned you up. Just try to go back to sleep.”
“I don’t feel sleepy. I can’t.”
Beomgyu suddenly giggles, you could make out the cute small thing he does with his lips when he does. “What?” you ask.
“Your voice sounds funny.”
You groan, rolling your eyes. Of course he’d find it funny. Maybe next time you should peg his ass and see how he’d like to not speak for an entire week.
You feel his all too familiar hand laying on your cheek, and you subtly gulp. You don’t know if he heard. He probably did with how close you guys are, noses practically brushing against each other, his breathing all your hearing can pick up. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”
You nod, until you realize he might not be able to see you properly. “Yes.”
“Good.”
He takes his hand off your cheek, then turns on his back, folding his arms over his chest, staring up the ceiling. So the room won’t fall into an awkward silence, you say: “I have a question.”
He shuffles a little on the bed, letting out a hum in acknowledgment. “What was the I’m perfect for you thing about? We’re definitely not like, compatible or anything.”
He laughs before he turns his head to you in disbelief. “Are you serious? Is that a serious question?”
You nod, “Do I not sound serious?”
“No, you sound like you just had the best fuck of your life.” You roll your eyes in good nature, though exasperated, you were exposed to too much of his ego in one day. If you had the strength and will to come up with something to level his ego down, you would. “It’s called dirty talk if you must know the term fair maiden.”
“God, you’re so silly, I’m going to sleep.” You withstand your pain to turn your back to him, groaning with each movement. But you can’t escape his wrath it seems, because he almost immediately snakes his arm around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, his heartbeat all you can here against your back. “Can’t I find you perfect? You know, like…my dream girl. My princess.”
You rapidly blink a few times trying to process—past the deep rasp of his tired voice that you found yourself incredibly attracted to— his words and how it brewed big unfamiliar emotions, knowing now you won’t be able to get a blink of sleep after this.
“Can I keep calling you that by the way? It really sticks.”
Oh god, the last thing you’re going to do is self sabotage yourself even more and get yourself in a stickier situation than you already put yourself in. “No, that’s definitely staying in the bedroom.”
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a/n: i have no idea how this reads, its basically bare of any editing so if the flow is a little choppy i sincerely apologize, i write at the golden time of 10pm-2am 😭
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joybabyjune · 9 months ago
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Jealousy
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Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader (Matt Murdock has a tiny role too)
Summery: You’ve been casually sleeping with Frank for a while now, but you decide you need something more stable and go on a date with Matt (who you don’t know is Daredevil). Frank shows up on your date to show you who you belong to (maybe in a public bathroom 🙊) and to show Matt to back off 😈.
Warnings: Explicit (minors dni!!!), semi public, unprotected piv, oral (m receiving), little bit of praise kink (good girl, attagirl), little bit of degradation kink (slut, whore), dirty talk, tiny bit of exhibition kink, sort of cuckolding Matt. Think that’s it, feel free to let me know if I missed anything!
Author’s note: This idea was stuck in my head for so long and I finally finished it! I hope you guys like it. I would love to hear what you guys think, so reading notes will make me happy! And if you really like it, please reblog so others can enjoy as well. You’ll make my day and it’s completely freeee.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language ✌🏼
Masterlist
You’re sipping on your second beer while you chat and laugh with Matt. After working together for over a year now, he finally asked you out.
Matt is a good guy. He’s everything you should want in a man. Reliable, kind, not a murderer on the run for law enforcement that most people think is dead... You mentally kick yourself for thinking about Frank while on a date with Matt. There’s no future with Frank. You shouldn’t want him. You need someone more stable in your life, someone like Matt.
“You okey?” Matt asks sensing your mind is elsewhere.
“Eh.. Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. You were saying?” You ask, shaking your head as if you’re shaking the thoughts of Frank from your brain.
“That this new client is really gonna make a difference for Nelson and Murdock..” He continues talking, but your mind drifts again while you look around the cozy, dark bar at all the people who decided to get drinks tonight. There’s a few couples, a group of co workers who look like came straight from their office jobs, a few middle aged men at the bar that you feel safe to assume are regulars and then your heart stops for a second as you see him.
Frank Castle is sitting at a table by the window, sipping on a beer. Your eyes widen when you make eye contact and he nods at you as a way of saying hello. You wave back almost nervously. How is he out here in public?
“Want another beer?” Matt asks, bringing your attention back to him.
“Eh, y-yeah, thanks.” You say. You’re so glad that your date is blind and didn’t see your interaction with the criminal he told you to watch out for.
What you don’t know is that Matt has already sensed Frank from the moment he entered the bar. He has been noticing his smell on you for the past months as well and it doesn’t sit right with him. It’s part of the reason he asked you out tonight, to get your attention away from the other man.
You grab your phone while Matt orders your drinks and hold it up to Frank to show that you’re gonna text him.
You: What are you doing here? What if anyone recognizes you?
Frank: Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart.
Frank: Saw you go in here with that lawyer guy..
You frown at your phone. Is he.. Jealous? It’s the first time you’re on a date since you started seeing him, but you didn’t think he would mind. It’s all been pretty casual between the two of you.
Frank: Looks like a date..
You look at him and he raises his eyebrows to urge you to answer him.
You: It is.. Matt is a good guy. He would be good for me. Reliable, available..
You look at him and see him scoff as he reads your text. You know it was a low blow. The only reason Frank is away most of the time, is to make the city a saver place.
Frank: Yeah? That what you want? A good Christian boy?
You: Yes.
You lie and Frank knows it. You should want a guy like Matt. Matt you could bring to Thanksgiving dinner with your parents and your mom would, for once, not be disappointed in you.. But you and Frank both know you like the danger and excitement of your little arrangement way too much. For months now, Frank comes to your apartment on a regular basis. You have amazingly intense and kinky sex and have the best conversations while eating takeout afterwards. Sometimes he stays the night and sometimes he leaves while you fall asleep, but either way you’re left alone until the next time he has a night to spare.
Frank: So full of shit.
Matt comes back with your drinks before you can write a reply, but you scowl at Frank.
“Thanks.” You say taking the drink from him and smiling extra brightly, to convince Frank you’re having fun.
“Sorry it took so long, was very busy at the bar.” He says, holding his glass up to toast with you.
“Oh don’t worry about it.” You say as you touch his glass with yours before you glance at your phone.
Frank: Did you let him fuck you?
You: Not yet..
You look over at him and he scoffs again as he reads your message
Frank: Think he can fuck you like I can?
You gasp when you read it and you see Matt frown. “Something wrong?” He asks.
“N-no.. Just need to go to the bathroom for a second.” You say. “Excuse me.”
You don’t go to the bathroom. You walk straight to Frank and sit down next to him. “What the hell, Frank.” You hiss.
He just looks at you. “Tell me.” He finally urges. “Think he’ll fuck you like I can? Cause I don’t think he can.”
“Oh please.” You scoff. “Think very highly of yourself, Castle. I think Matt will manage just fine.”
He laughs dryly. “Just fine, huh.” He says. “Think I do just fine? Well I remember that differently, sweetheart. I remember you begging, crying out my name, barely being able to walk..”
“Stop that, Frank.” You hiss through your teeth. “I’m trying to give this thing with Matt a chance. I need something more serious in my life than just some good dick every once in a while, okey.”
“Oh now I’m just some good dick, hm.” He chuckles through his nose and looks to the side before looking at you again and licking his lips. He places his hand on your bare thigh, right at the edge of your dress. “You look good. Got all dressed up for your little date, huh.”
Your breath hitches at his touch. And your stupid body reacts instantly to his. “Y-yes..” You say.
“Got something pretty underneath it too?” He asks, fingers toying with the hem of your dress.
You swallow thickly. “No..” You say honestly.
“No?” He asks in disbelieve, knowing what you have in your collection.
“No, I’m not wearing anything.” You say smiling teasingly. “Felt like doing something risky for my date.” You like to make him jealous. It feels good to know that he wants you and doesn’t want another man to touch you.
He growls a little. “You gonna let him get under this dress tonight?” He asks.
“I might..” You say.
He grips your thigh tightly and leans in so his mouth is at your ear. “Let me remind you first..” He says. “Of what you’ll be missing if you do that.” His lips connect to your neck and he slides the tip of his tongue over your pulse.
“Frank..” You whimper, you brain clouding over. Why does he have to have this effect on you?
“Bathroom.” He rasps. “Now.”
Your eyes widen and you look at Matt. He looks unfazed as he drinks his beer, his back towards you. You know this bathroom. It’s beat down, broken lights and mirrors, graffiti everywhere and it has multiple stalls, so there’s no way you can get away with this without anyone noticing. “I can’t, Frank..” You sigh.
“I said. Now.” He says. You almost moan at his demand and get up. “Attagirl..” He says as you walk toward the bathroom, your feet moving on their own accord.
You can sense him following you closely. He pushes you into the bathroom and slams you with your back against the door to barricade it before crashing his lips on yours.
He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him. Your dress hitches up to your hips and you moan in his mouth as he rolls his hips into your, basically bare, core. “Hmhmm.” He hums and he breaks the kiss. “That’s what you need, huh?”
“Frankie..” You whine a little, but you know he’s right. “But-“
“Shh shh shh.. No buts.” He says and lifts your dress up more so it bundles at your waist. You feel your naked folds against the rough material of his jeans and you moan loudly. He snakes one hand between your bodies and slides his fingers through your soaking slit. “Fuck..” He mutters to himself. “That for me or for lawyer guy out there?”
“Y-you, Frank.. You..” You say, your voice breathy, as he starts rubbing circles on your clit.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He grunts. “Pretending to be a good girl, but you’re just a little slut for me..”
“Frankie..” You moan, sounding desperate, but you know he’s right. “Please..”
“Hm? What’s that?” He rasps against your throat. As he presses on your clit harder.
“Oh fuck..” You pant. “Frank, p-please.. Need more..”
“Oh yeah? That slutty hole needs to be filled?” He asks. “Why don’t I get Murdock to do that for you, huh? ‘M sure he can help you out.”
“N-no!” You gasp and grab onto his shoulders desperately.. “Need you, Frank.. Need your cock.. P-please!”
He growls and mutters something under his breath while unbuttoning his pants. You can barely hear it but it sounds like. “Hear that, Red.” You frown but get pulled out of your thoughts by Frank slamming his cock inside you without warning.
“Oh my.. Fuck!!” You cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders. You keep forgetting how big he is.
He growls loudly. “That’s it, take it..” He says as he starts thrusting right away, not giving you any time to get used to the intrusion. “Tight fucking pussy.. So wet for me.”
There’s a knock on the bathroom door that you can barely register. “Taken!” Frank rasps loudly, giving you a particularly hard thrust that makes you cry out loudly.
“Y-you’re so bad..” You whine. “T-they can hear us.” You add in a whisper.
“Let them..” He says. “Let them hear what a whore you are for this cock. That you let me steal you away from your date and fuck you in a public bathroom.. ‘S because you belong to me, hmm?”
“Frankie..” You whine.
“Right?” He growls through gritted teeth.
He’s never been this harsh, but you’ve also never been this aroused and you can feel your orgasm building up fast. When you don’t answer him, he pulls out. “Nooo, don’t stop!”
“Say it..” He growls and rubs the head of his cock against your clit.
“Ohhh.. I-I’m yours, Frankie! P-please!” You moan.
“That’s right. Mine.” He growls as he sinks back inside you.
Your eyes roll back in your head and he starts fucking you with deep, hard strokes. “I-I’m gonna cum..” You pant into his shoulder. “Please don’t stop..”
“Good girl, cum on my fucking cock.” He rasps, never losing his rhythm.
You cry out when you explode around him and immediately know that no man can ever top this. You’re addicted to Frank Castle, even with all the hassle that comes with him. “Fuckkkk!”
“That’s it, attagirl.. Can feel you squeezing me..” Frank talks you through it.
“Oh my god..” You pant as you come down from your high.
“Think I’ll send you back to your date with me dripping down your legs, hm, how ‘bout that?”
“Noo! Please don’t!” You chuckle.
“No?” He asks shaking his head with a smirk on his face. “Better get on your knees then.” He adds and he pulls out.
He lets you down and you quickly get on your knees. You don’t care about how dirty the floor is, you need this right now.
His cock, wet from your juices, glistens in the dimmed lighting as he holds it in front of your face. He’s rock hard, the veins are pulsing and his balls look heavy. He’s definitely close.
You ‘open up’ when he tells you to and he slides in as deep as he can until you gag. “That’s it.. Attagirl..” He mutters and he slowly starts thrusting into your welcoming mouth, one of his hands resting comfortably on the back of your head, the other pushing the door closed above you. “Look at me..” He orders and your eyes shoot up to his. “Gonna make sure that if that fucker tries to kiss you, that he knows you belong to another man. Cause this fucking mouth’s mine too, hear me?” He growls, speeding up his thrusts and making you gag again.
You make some sounds to agree with him, not being able to talk. “Fuck.. Gonna give you my cum.. Fill up that pretty mouth..” He groans loudly and his hips stutter while you feel his load land on the back of your tongue.
You gently suck his softening cock to get every last drop before letting him slip out and swallowing the proof.
“Fuck you..” You sigh as you rest your head back against the door.
He chuckles silently. “That good, hm?”
“Shut up..” You smile lazily.
“Still think he can give it to you like that?” He asks as he tucks himself back into his pants.
“No.. Don’t think anyone can, Frank..” You say honestly. “And I hate you for it. You ruined me..”
“Should have warned you for that.” He says smiling down at you smugly. “Gonna get up?”
“‘F you give me a hand.” You say and he helps you get up on your shaking legs.
“Fucking Frank.” You curse as you look in the mirror. Your hair is messy, your makeup messed up and your dress is all wrinkled.
He chuckles. “Go end this date, I’ll be waiting in your room for round two.” He says slapping your ass and leaving you in the bathroom to freshen up.
“Thank you for your patience.” You hear him say to someone on the other side of the door.
Your eyes widen and you pull your dress down just quick enough for two women around your age to walk in.
“‘M s-sorry..” You mutter without looking at them. They don’t say anything, just disappear into the stalls.
You quickly try to salvage what you can and hurry back to your table.
“I-I’m sorry, Matt.” You say sitting down.
“You okey? You were gone for a while.” He asks.
“Ehm.. N-no, I don’t feel so well. Think it’s best if I go home.” You say as you put on your jacket and grab your purse.
“You sure?” He asks, frowning a little, and you get the feeling the question is about more than just you going home.
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“Shall I walk with you?”
“No, that’s okey. I’ll eh, I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.”
“Alright.” He says looking a little disappointed.
“Bye.” You say, hugging him and hurrying home.
To Frank, once again.
806 notes · View notes
darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago
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No Sugar Tonight 4
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Character: Brock Rumlow
Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You look around the diner uncertainly. Brock slurps down his third coffee as you wring your hands in your lap. There’s a few bites of waffle left on your plate but you can barely stomach what you managed to get down. You don’t understand what he’s doing. 
He signals for the waitress and asks, no, tells her to get the check. He has a way of commanding everyone around him. Including you. 
His dark eyes narrow in your direction. You wonder if he can see your thoughts written on your face. You drop your gaze to the table and fidget. He sighs and wipes his mouth with a napkin. He crumples it and tosses it on his plate as he leans forward. 
“That syrup is all sugar,” he flicks the glass bottle. “You should have eggs for breakfast. Good protein.” 
You wince and look at him, “I’m sorry--” You don’t understand why he didn’t say anything before. 
“Now you know. I know you can listen. You can learn. When I tell you something, I want you to remember,” his voice is grizzly and grinding. “I don’t like to repeat myself.” 
“Uh, okay,” your brows tweak in confusion. 
The waitress returns and he pays in cash. He leaves her a tip but not a very good one. You only slide off the bench as he stands at the end and huffs. 
He keeps you ahead of him as he herds you out of the diner. You come out onto the street and dawdle just along the pavement. He comes up next to you and seizes your hand. You jolt in surprise as his callouses brush your soft skin. 
“I should go home--” 
“We’re going home,” he insists and tugs your arm. “I know you remember what I said.” 
You search the city street as panic rises up your throat, “but... I don’t know you--” 
“You know me. You need me.” He curtails your argument. “I don’t like you acting like this.” 
“I’m not...” you begin and shake your head. “I was only doing my job, sir.” 
“Not your job anymore. Things are different. How they should be.” He drags you down the sidewalk, yanking you into step as your soles scuff in reluctance. You have no choice by to keep pace. “You will have everything you need.” 
Your mouth opens and you snap it shut again. What can you say or do? He’s so much stronger than you. Besides, he already called your boss and ruined everything. 
“You’re really pretty, you shouldn’t make those face,” he says. 
You wipe the frustration from your features and put your head down. He clears his throat. 
“Stand straight. Good posture is important.” He girds again. 
You make yourself stand straight and measure your steps with his. He slows and you look around, searching for the reason. He approaches a black card and opens the passenger door. 
“In.” 
That’s it. His singular order. His hand creeps up from yours and up your arm and he nudges you. You obey. 
He shuts the door and goes around the hood. He gets in the driver seat and focus on starting the engine and pulling out into the traffic crawl. You shrink down and hug yourself. 
“Where... Can I get some of my things--” 
“Got em.” He snarls. 
You swallow the last of your resistance. You’re not sure what he means but you’ll take it as a no. You look out the windshield and watch the pedestrians and the taxis. Wait, you should scream! You should cry out for help! 
You peek over at the door and your hand trails towards the handle. The door locks with a thunk. 
“Do your seatbelt up,” he orders. 
You retract and do as he bids. He grunts and taps his fingers on the ridge steering wheel. He reaches over to clasp your wrist in his thick hand and squeezes. 
“I got a buddy on the force. Several. You wanna go for a ride to a precinct, I’ll take you there myself and we’ll see how that goes. You don’t needa be like this. I’m not hurting you, I'm helping.” He raises your arm and you whimper. You don’t know what to do. He pulls your hand close and he presses a kiss to your knuckles, a gesture both unnerving yet gentle.  
He lets you go and grips the wheel again. You rub your wrist as a tingle ripples in the back of your hand. You look ahead through the window then back at him. 
He’s a big man. Thick arms, broad shoulders, tall. His dark hair has a few strands of silver that blend into the rest and his jaw is shadowed with stubble. The cleft in his chin adds to his sinister appearance and an icy determination squares his features. 
“You can turn some music on,” he nods towards the radio. “None of that girly pop.” 
You hesitate but cautiously reach to touch the buttons on the dash. You scan through the satellite radio stations and find a song you know. The White Stripes. He hums but you can’t tell if he’s annoyed or content. You sit back and hug yourself. 
“I haven’t been mean so you don’t needa be scared,” he commands. Everything he says is an order, as if you’re his soldier. 
“Yes, sir,” you gulp. 
“Brock, baby, you can call me Brock,” he insists. 
179 notes · View notes
hansensgirl · 11 months ago
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summary. | Your neighbour just wants you to feel the same way she does.
prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + neighbours AU + “I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will." + sex pollen, requested by @americasass81.
pairing. | dark!neighbour!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON, drugging, sex pollen, obsession, delusion, orgasm (f), allusions to fingering, mentions of female masturbation, pet names, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics
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Flames lick at your skin as desire burns through you—the kind that you can’t alleviate, no matter what. You’ve tried everything—rubbing your clit, humping a pillow, using the showerhead. The feeling just can’t seem to go away, and you’re left in a haze of desperation and arousal. 
There’s a knock at your door, and you curse. You quickly grab a robe and put it on, wincing at the feeling of the soft material on your hard nipples. Your thighs are sticky with your slick, and you hope the smell isn’t too noticeable.
You open it to find your neighbour, Natasha. She’s very kind. She was the only person to introduce herself; you’ve even hung out with her numerous times, bonding over ice cream and horror movies. 
The redhead leans on the doorframe, a slight smirk on her face.
“Hey, Nat… Is everything alright?” you question, crossing your arms. Her gaze is intense, burning holes as she looks right into your soul. “Oh, yeah, just peachy. How are you feeling, hon?” she asks, stepping inside. You let her, even though you’re not seeking any company now, unless they’re willing to help with your embarrassing predicament. 
“I– I’m okay. Actually, I’m a bit busy right now. Do you mind if we talk later?” you rush out, the tingling in your pussy worsening as Natasha takes a seat on your couch. “Busy? With what? Rubbing one out? That wouldn’t even help, and you know it,” she scoffs, and the blood in your face drains.
“Wh– What?” you say, confused at her words. “Don’t play dumb, honey. This place smells like that cunt, and I know exactly what your issue is,” Natasha bluntly tells you, spreading her legs with a cocksure look on her face. 
Despite the dirty thoughts that cloud your mind, you manage to piece together what she’s saying. She gave you some brownies as a little treat—and after you ate them, you started feeling this way. 
“What did you do to me?” you ask, incredulous. “Nothing, really. Just gave you a little something to make this part easier,” Natasha explains, and you squeeze your thighs for a bit of friction. Her voice is a bit husky, and her simple presence is tempting. 
“Why?” you ask, pressing your back against the door. Your legs are weak. “Because I love you, princess,” she confesses with a huge smile on her face. You scoff at her words, both out of fear and denial. “No, you don’t.”
She smiles and stands up, walking towards you. You don’t even think to make a move, your condition leaving you void of any reasonable thoughts. She towers over you slightly, and when you look up, you can only focus on her pink lips. 
“I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will,” she whispers, grabbing the string to your robe. She pulls it loose, and you’re left naked in front of her. Her warm hands land on your waist, and you surrender yourself to her despite knowing better.
Natasha drags you to the couch and stands over you, dominant hand going straight to your wet pussy. She quickly finds your swollen, achy pearl and marvels at the amount of wetness that leaks out from you.
“My God, you really do need me, don’t you? Poor baby,” she coos, and you whimper at her words and touch. She rubs your clit quickly—lewd, squelching sounds filling the air along with your pathetic moans. 
You know you shouldn’t let her touch you like this—especially after her admission—but you can’t help it. It feels too good.  
“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you, honey,” Natasha tells you, and you’re coming before you realize it. You cry out as pleasure takes over, though the desperation remains the same. 
“M- More? Please?” you ask sweetly, and her fingers move to your wet hole. “Of course. You’re gonna be begging me to stop soon,” she jokes, but you don’t care.
At this point, you’ll take anything. 
730 notes · View notes
python333 · 1 year ago
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scary dog privileges — python333
— — — —
synopsis ur super duper scary to almost all 141 soldiers, but to price soap ghost and gaz ur just the sweetest little thing ever :3
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 4.6k
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], no usage of c/n [call sign chosen for this fic is 'Cerberus'!], might sound kind of rushed/shitty :{
note normally i try not to rush fics BUT i started this at like 12 pm and as im typing this out its 11 pm and ive only written 2285 words so im kind of rushing this so i can keep up my little posting daily thing!! this idea has also been rotting in my brain for a while, so i might make a hcs thing from it, idk, but for now its just this fic!! also, thank you everyone who gave reblogged my last fic, reblogs are the best sorta motivation for a reader and i absolutely appreciate all of them :> anyway this is all fluff + comfort no hurt and has some soft!ghost in it because hes my dad and i love him so enjoy!!
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The Private in front of you may as well have been pissing his pants with how scared he looked. His commanding officer, and one of your closest friends, Soap, had reported him to you for ‘insubordination’. He’d said, verbatim, when telling you about him, “I’d deal with him myself, but I’m too tired to,” so now you had to deal with one of his subordinates. 
You sighed through your nose as you looked down at the Private in front of you, the latter comically small compared to you, both physically and mentally. 
“Well?” You ask expectantly, raising an eyebrow at him, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” The Private shakily nods and you can hear him gulp, “Right, yeah, so basically, it was earlier this morning and I was following orders and everything, doing what I was supposed to, then I accidentally interrupted Soap while he was giving me orders, which I didn’t mean to do, I swear, I just wasn’t thinking and it happened and I just— I didn’t mean to do it. And then later on, we were both—me and Soap—talking with a few other people who I guess were some higher ranked soldiers from different tactical operations and I accidentally interrupted some of them. It was—” “I’m sorry, hold on,” You put a finger up to silence him, to which he responds with immediate silence, letting you talk, “You don’t accidentally interrupt someone. Either you do it or you don’t. You don’t just slip up and interrupt your CO in the middle of him giving you orders. Secondly, always refer to Soap as ‘Captain MacTavish’, or ‘Captain’ if that’s somehow too hard for you, don’t act like you get to talk about him like you’re both all buddy-buddy and—” “Okay, but if you’d just let me finish—” The Private tries to interrupt you, making you draw your eyebrows together in confusion. “Excuse me?” You ask, mildly offended that he had the audacity to interrupt you, “Did you just interrupt me?” The Private stays silent for a moment, looking up at you, wide-eyed. His whole face looks even more stupid like this—like he doesn’t even know what he did. 
“I asked you a question, Private,” You remind him, leaning down a bit, tilting your head to the side questioningly, “Did you just interrupt me?”  “Right, yeah, I did, sorry about that—” He tries to apologize, “Didn’t mean to. Swear.” “Right,” You narrow your eyes at him, standing back up straight and crossing your arms, “Remember what I just said? About not accidentally interrupting people?” “Yeah, I do.” “Could you say ‘Yes, Lieutenant’ instead of that?” You ask, “This isn’t a casual conversation. This is one of your superiors telling you that you can’t blatantly disrespect your commanding officer, so act like it.” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant,” The Private stammers, which really shouldn’t make your lips twitch at the corners but it does, and you have to fight off a smile, pursing your lips instead. 
“Like I was saying earlier,” You continue your words from earlier, “In conversations like these, when you’re not out doing an assignment, I don’t want to catch you referring to Captain MacTavish as just ‘Soap’ ever again. And you don’t want me to catch you doing that either, you understand?” “I understand, Lieutenant.” “Good, good,” You nod, before gesturing for the Private to keep giving you his side of the story, “Continue telling me what happened then.” “Right, so, after that, Captain MacTavish gave me some new orders, and I felt like I had a better idea of what to do than him because I’d thought of something that makes more sense than what he told me to do, so I told him as such, and he acted all shocked like I didn’t have a really good idea, and told me that I was to follow his orders not the ones I tried to give to myself so I told him that mine were better and—”
“Have you read the military regulations and codes of conduct? Ever?” You interrupt, making the Private shut up almost immediately and hesitantly nod his head affirmatively. “I really don’t believe you. Everything I’ve heard so far is a direct violation of it, I just—” You pause to give a small, humorless laugh, “You have me speechless here, really.” The Private watches nervously as you struggle to find the appropriate words to say, before you finally come up with, “Is there more that you need to tell me about?” “… Yeah,” The Private answers sheepishly, making you sigh through your nose and gesture for him to tell you the rest. He clears his throat before starting up again, “And then he said that he’s the commanding officer for a reason and that what he says goes so I said okay and did what he told me to do. Then after that whole thing, he told me to go to your office and tell you what I did.” Why do I have to do all his dirty work? “… Okay then,” You look up at the ceiling and try to think of what to do, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the Private, muttering, “Well, I appreciate that you didn’t go into my office without my permission, at least you know not to do that.” You clear your throat before speaking louder, “Let’s head into my office instead of just standing out here. This is probably violating some sort of code…” The Private nods and lets you unlock the door to your office that’s just a few steps away and walks in after you, being sure to close the door behind him. He automatically sits at the chair across from your desk and you sit down at your own chair behind your desk. 
“Right, okay, let’s see…” You dig around the drawers of your desk, before letting out a small ‘ah-ha!’ and pulling a corrective action assignment form out of one of the small drawers of your desk and setting it onto the top of your desk. You grab a pen from the small cup by your desk and write down the date on the form in your usual neat handwriting. 
You read a question on the form and look over at the Private, “Could you give me your full name, please?”
“John— John Williams,” The Private stammers again, making you raise an eyebrow.
“Your name is John-John Williams?”
“No, just John Williams, Lieutenant.” “M’kay,” You write down his name and fill out a few more things on the form before signing it off with your name and looking over at the Private once again, folding the paper in half as you do, “I’m gonna trust you to bring this to Soap, and tell him that it’s from me. You think you can do that?” “Yeah, of course,” John breathes out, grabbing the paper from you as you hand it to him. “Yes what?” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant.” “There we go,” You sigh and lean back in your chair, “Go on and pass that to him. And tell him to send anyone else who’s being insubordinate to Ghost or something, anyone but me.” 
John simply nods and gets up, walking out your office door and making sure to close it behind him. You cap the pen you’d used and put it back in the cup where the rest of your writing utensils are, before yawning and leaning forward to rest your head on your desk when suddenly there’s a sharp knocking at your office door. You muffle a groan and wait a moment before calling out, “Come in!” You watch as your door slowly opens, making a creaking sound that hurts your ears a bit, and much to your annoyance, yet another Private is standing in your doorway, looking just as sheepish as the last. “Oh my f— you know what?” You stand up and take a deep breath to momentarily calm yourself, “Who sent you? Was it Soap?” “… Yes,” The Private answers, their voice shaky as they speak to you, the whole thing only making you more annoyed. “Where is he right now?” You ask, walking towards the door and opening it wider, towering over the much smaller Private in front of you. 
“The— the training facility.” You blink at the Private and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. “Yeah, no sh— ugh, you know what? Thank you. Just—” You look up at the ceiling and tell yourself not to snap at this poor rookie, and look back down at them, “Just follow me. I have to go yell at him.” 
“What?” The Private asks dumbly, their eyes widening a bit in surprise. You don’t bother to look over your shoulder and check that they’re following you, instead just walking out of your office, somehow hearing their footsteps even with the thundering stomping your boots made as you walked. 
You eventually made it to one of the training facilities, the only one that currently had anyone in them, and opened the door louder than you meant to. You walked in, the shaking Private behind you as you walked up to Soap and took several deep breaths to calm yourself, ignoring the several rookies that stared at you as you walked over to him. You could hear small whispers forming amongst Soap’s small platoon of soldiers, but ignored them as well, simply walking up to Soap, who finally noticed you. He turned to you and gave you a knowing grin, like he knew exactly why you were here. “Hey, L.t—” “Why have I had two Privates coming into my office telling me you sent them because you couldn’t do your damn job?” You question him immediately, ignoring the small gasp from the Private behind you, “Do you know how many CAA forms I have left? Three. Three forms. Because you can’t deal with your own rookies. If I wanted to be dealing with them, I would’ve let Price make me a CO. You know what I said when he asked me to be one? Fuck no. I said it for a reason.” 
“… Sae ye din’t want me tae report onyone else tae ye?” Soap asks, like the little shit he is, in a teasing tone. “Absolutely not.”
“Noted,” He nods, as if he understands, and gestures for the Private he’d sent to you to come back over to him, “I actually got yer message a minute ago from Williams. I think he almost shat himself.” 
“I’m kinda happy about that, honestly,” You mutter, “Everything he told me was like… a direct violation of the code of conduct and was just so stupid.” “I ken!” Soap agrees, “I swear, naebody reads the code ‘o conduct ony mair.” “I asked him if he did, and he said yes, but I know he’s lying,” You roll your eyes before adding on, “And you know what? I’ve only had issues with British people ever since you and Gaz started reporting people to me. I think that they’re just the issue.” 
“Jesus, I ken,” Soap mutters, “Fuckin’ Brits.” “Fuckin’ Brits.” You nod in agreement, before sighing and looking over at the rest of Soap’s platoon. You look back at him, “I also told Williams to actually refer to you as ‘Captain MacTavish’, so… there’s that.” “Guid, guid,” Soap nods, before clearing his throat and continuing,
“So did ye only come here tae yell at mae?” 
“Yeah.” You admit, making Soap laugh lightly.
“And yer done now?”
“… I guess,” You mutter, making him chuckle and pat you on the shoulder.
“Guid,” He says, looking over at his group of soldiers he’s meant to be training, “I think yer scarin’ my soldiers more than mae.”
“How can you tell?” You ask sarcastically, following his gaze to the rookies that were trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping when they clearly were. “They don’t even know we’re talking right now.” Soap huffs out a small laugh, “Right, o’ course.” 
“I’m gonna head back to my office and take a quick nap,” You let Soap know, “So don’t send me anymore people. They’re stinking up my office, it’s ridiculous.” Soap raises an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Why don’t you just go to your sleeping quarters?” “Don’t tell me what to do.” Soap raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, then.” You huff out a tired breath and say, “So if anyone asks where I am, just let them know that.” You don’t wait for a response before you walk away from Soap and immediately hear whispers starting up again, but you ignore them as you walk out the door, sort of used to them at this point. You didn’t know why you were so scary to some of the lower-ranked soldiers (and even some of the higher-ranked ones), considering you never intentionally did anything to scare them. Sure, you were taller than most of them, and maybe just a bit quicker to lose your temper with people, but it was never that bad. 
You vividly remember Gaz and Soap when they both found out a majority of the soldiers that were apart of the 141 were afraid of you or at least intimidated by you, the two had said that they wanted you around more often, just hanging out with them, so that they wouldn’t get bothered as much by people for unnecessary things.
Scary dog privileges, you remember they’d said, laughing as they did. It’s actually where you’d gotten your call sign, Cerberus. 
It’s not that you hated it at all, in fact, you didn’t mind being a little scary if it meant people were less likely to bother you, it’s just that it makes it a hell of a lot harder to actually talk to people without them starting to stammer or shake.
It was one of the reasons you turned down being a commanding officer—you didn’t really like the thought of commanding a platoon of soldiers that cowered in your presence. Plus, it was getting really annoying, not being able to talk to another soldier that wasn’t Price, Soap, Ghost or Gaz without them looking like all they wanted to do was leave the conversation. 
You finally make it back to your office and let out a sigh of relief as you open the door and walk in, closing it behind you, not even bothering to lock it as you immediately walk over to the chair behind your desk and sit down in it.
You reach below your desk and pull out a nice, fluffy blanket and a fluffy pillow to go with it that you always kept in your office—just for times like this, when you felt like going to sleep in your office, for whatever reason.
Were you supposed to be napping at all? No. Would your superiors let you anyway because you’ve somehow managed to get emotionally adopted by both Price and Soap? Absolutely.
You move some of the papers cluttering your desk out of the way and set down your pillow, as well as wrapping yourself in the blanket, and sigh happily as you lay your head down onto the pillow. 
Just as you’re getting comfy, you hear a knock at the door. No. You don’t get up to answer it. You just sit there, head on your pillow, nice and comfy. In fact, you refuse to answer the door, because you’ve opened it for two other people already, and God knows who you’re gonna snap at once you open that door.
Another knock—you ignore that one too, knowing full well you told Soap to tell anyone who was looking for you that you were in your office but also knowing that you never said you’d open the door, you just said you’d be there. 
You bury your face into the pillow and scream into it, knowing the scream wouldn’t be too muffled with how loud it was, but doing it anyway. You then take a deep breath and call out, unenthusiastic and tired, “Come in!” 
You watch the door open and see Ghost step in, and you’re silent as you watch him close the door behind him and walk over to you, his century old shitty laptop in hand as he sits down in the chair in front of your desk and sets down said laptop.
You pay no mind to it, deciding you’d rather take a nap, and set your head back down on the pillow, pretending that you can’t feel Ghost’s eyes on you. “… Are you okay?” He asks, sounding a little concerned as he looks at you bury your head into your pillow, before his concern turns into confusion as he asks, “When did you get a pillow in here— you have a blanket, too?” 
“Mmph.” You don’t respond with actual words, even if you did they’d be muffled beyond relief by your pillow. You can’t see him but Ghost raises an eyebrow at you and his lips twitch into a small, amused smile. 
“What, you’ve just had those in here?” Ghost asks, knowing he’ll get nothing more than a muffled hum from you. 
“Mmph.” “Alright, then,” He mutters, “Keep your secrets.” “Mmph.” You feel too tired to bother responding with anything else. “I feel like you shouldn’t sleep in your office, considering you have your own sleeping quarters you can sleep in.” “… Mmph.” “That’s fair,” Ghost nods. You hear him opening his laptop and you hear it crack when it opens, the noise making you huff out a small laugh into your pillow. God, that thing is so old, it’s ridiculous.
“What’s so funny?” Ghost asks as he types in his password. You don’t say anything in response, which doesn’t shock him in the slightest.  You feel yourself start to get closer to sleep, but can’t get quite there, instead sort of just hanging right on the edge of sleep.
You quietly grumble in frustration and shift a bit in your seat, not knowing what the issue is. Ghost notices this and raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t do anything about it just yet, instead getting back to his work. Why’d he have to go into your office to do his work? Who knows.
You shift again in your seat and Ghost knows that he’s not gonna be able to focus if you keep shifting—why wouldn’t he just go to his own office?—around, so he sighs and picks up his laptop and drags the chair in front of your desk with him around to behind your desk where you are.
You lift your head up to try and see what he’s doing, confused, and see him putting his chair right next to yours and setting his laptop down onto the desk. 
Before you can ask anything, he gently puts a hand on the side of your head and guides it to rest on his shoulder, and—oh. This is much better, somehow. 
He seems to know that it’s that much better, too, because his eyes crinkle a bit, giving away the fact that he’s smiling. However, he stays silent, and keeps his hand on the side of your head for a moment before letting it fall down to the side of your forearm, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.
He opens up his laptop once again and types in his password with one hand, the typing going by significantly slower than it would’ve if he used both hands, but he decides against keeping his hand off of you, seeing as it assists in helping you go to sleep.
Are you supposed to be asleep right now? Definitely not. But like mentioned before, Price wouldn’t mind. And you’d probably laugh if Soap minded, because even if he’s a Captain, he’ll always act like a little shit. Ghost knows this too, and with this information, he figures that he might as well help you sleep, since he knows exactly how to help you sleep. 
One too many nights spent pacing in your room, which eventually woke Ghost up, which led to him helping you sleep, so that he could sleep too, You sleepily remember, He always said he was annoyed by the pacing, and that’s the only reason he helped you sleep. But now, seeing what’s happening now, makes you question that a bit. Was it his annoyance, or something else? Or am I thinking too much about this?
Cutting off your train of thought is another knock at the door, and it’s not loud enough to completely snap you out of your drowsy haze but it’s enough to make you a little more aware, and for you to readjust your head your head so that your face is practically buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck. His thumb stops rubbing against your forearm, and he glares at the door like it was the door’s fault it got knocked on. 
The knocking persists and neither of you say anything, just waiting on whoever it is on the other side to give up and go away, but whoever it is must be feeling pretty determined because even louder knocks sound at the door, making you and Ghost sigh in unison.
You both continue to stay silent, hoping that whoever was on the other side just goes away, but they don’t. You don’t hear any footsteps retreating, and the knocks keep coming.  
“Hello?” You both hear Price’s voice on the other side, “Cerberus? You in there?” “Say no,” You mutter into Ghost’s neck. He nods and clears his throat. 
“Nope!” Ghost calls out in response to Price’s question. 
“… Ghost?” Price’s surprised voice comes through, “What are you doing in there?” “Say this is your office,” You murmur, making Ghost huff out a small, amused laugh and nod again. 
“This is my office,” Ghost responds, “Why wouldn’t I be here?” “What? No,” Price’s voice becomes confused, “This is Cerberus’ office.” “No it’s not,” Ghost denies, lying straight through his teeth. You laugh quietly against his neck. “Uh… but it is?” Price argues, “It has their name on the front.” “No it doesn’t,” Ghost blatantly denies, continuing his thumb’s slow circle movements on your skin, the soothing action making you hum contently. You don’t know how, but somehow your humming is loud enough for Price to hear. Does he have his ear against the door or something?
“I can hear Cerberus in there,” Price argues again, “Don’t lie to me.” “Sorry, lamb,” Ghost apologizes to you softly, tone significantly more soft than it typically is, “I think he’s caught onto us.” “… I guess it’s fine for him to come in, then,” You mumble against his neck. He responds with a nod. 
“Come in!” Ghost calls out, and almost immediately you hear the door open and Price’s loud footsteps walking in. You can’t see him, but he opens his mouth to say something, when his eyes catch on your face buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck.
He looks questioningly at Ghost, the latter simply blinking over at Price, daring him to comment on it. 
He doesn’t, and instead closes the door behind him and walks up to the desk. 
“Cerberus?” He asks. You hum offhandedly, and he takes that as a sign to continue, “You okay?” “Mhm.” “You know you can sleep in your own sleeping quarters, right?” “Mhm.” “And you’re choosing not to?” 
“Mhm.” Price blinks at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and turning to Ghost, “And you’re here because?” “Felt like having some company,” Ghost answers simply, watching as Price glances at his thumb rubbing circles into your forearm, and continues to watch as his eyes slowly make their way up to the way your face is buried in the crook of his neck. 
Price looks at Ghost, mouthing the words, ‘I’m telling everyone about this,’ to which Ghost mouths back, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Price grins at this and opens his mouth to say something else before there’s another knock at the door. 
“Are you always this popular?” Ghost asks you, sounding both mildly annoyed and amused. 
“Mhm.” You hum affirmatively. 
Ghost sighs and he and Price call out in unison, “Come in!” The door opens and you temporarily readjust your head so that you’re just resting your head on Ghost’s shoulder with your face facing the door, and you watch as Gaz enters the room and his neutral face turns into one of both surprise and confusion. 
“Were you lot having a party in here, or something?” He asks, closing the door behind him.
“Not originally,” Ghost deadpans, watching as Gaz walks over next to Price and leans against your desk, “What’re you here for?”
“Needed an extra corrective action form,” Gaz answers. Ghost looks down at you for permission to rummage through your desk drawers and you nod.
“Second drawer to the right,” You mumble, and Ghost opens that exact one up and pulls out a CAA form, handing it over to Gaz, who takes it with a ‘thank you’ and folds it in half, stuffing it into his back pocket.
He looks between you and Ghost questioningly, and opens his mouth to say something, before Ghost gives him the same look he did to Price, and Gaz immediately snaps his mouth shut.
“If you’re tired, Cerberus, you should go to your sleeping quarters,” Price comments, tone worried. You look over at him.
“What if someone needs me, though?” You ask, slowly blinking at him.
“Kid, I don’t think anyone would get any good help from you with the state you’re in right now,” Price says honestly, ignoring the small glare you send him. “Anyone who needs you can just refer to someone else.”
You hum neutrally and sigh before muttering, “Fine,” and tentatively take your head off of Ghost’s shoulder and unwrapping the blankets you’d wrapped around yourself earlier, bundling it into a little ball and putting it into the box under your desk, putting the pillow in there as well.
You crack your knuckles quickly and get up from your seat, quickly putting your hands on the edge of your desk to steady yourself, standing up on slightly shaky legs. “I can help you get over there,” Price offers, frowning a bit when you shake your head negatively. Ghost lets out a sigh and stands up, closing his laptop before quickly walking over to you and wrapping an arm loosely around your side, over your arm, pulling you closer to him and helping you stand up a bit straighter. Gaz observes all of this with a raised eyebrow but otherwise says nothing, instead watching with Price—who watched this with disbelief in his eyes—as Ghost walked with you to the door wordlessly, opening the door and walking out of it with you, not looking back as he closes the door behind him. “You think everyone’s gonna think Cerberus is all scary after they see them leaning on Ghost trying to get back to their sleeping quarters?” Gaz asks Price, staring at the closed door. “Somehow, yeah,” Price says after a moment, still caught up in his disbelief, “That is… the strangest thing I’ve seen all day.” “It’s only thirteen, Captain.” “I don’t think anything’s gonna top that.” “Top what?” Gaz asks, a little confused, “Seeing Ghost helping out Cerberus?” “Yeah.” Gaz huffs out a laugh and pats Price’s shoulder, “Jesus, man. I’m surprised that’s the first time you’ve seen that.” Gaz ignores Price’s confused look and walks towards the door, opening and closing it as he walks out, leaving Price dumbfounded in Cerberus’ office. “Huh?”
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holylulusworld · 1 year ago
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Stumble (2)
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Summary: Bucky and you go on a shopping spree. 
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: fun, they are naughty, mentions of misuse of candles, angry reader, language, implied smut, naughty innuendos
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Catch up here: Stumble
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“Let me go, Bucky. I’m going to unalive that woman,” you growl while Bucky has his arms wrapped tightly around your waistline. He must use his strength to keep you from attacking a woman. “She snatched the blanket out of my shopping cart! That’s theft!!”
“Doll, calm down,” he laughs as you still try to get to the woman and scratch her eyes out. “And we do not unalive people.”
The woman sighs, relieved. “I saw the blanket first!” She lies straight to Bucky’s face. “That woman is crazy.”
“Crazy?” You snarl. “I give you crazy, bitch! You stole the blanket out of my shopping cart. I saw it first.”
“Ma’am, I must ask you to give the blanket back to my girlfriend. I cannot guarantee she won’t unalive you if I let go of her. She’s like a feral wolf when it comes to hoarding blankets and such.”
“I thought you don’t unalive people.” She stammers. “Did you lie?”
“Well, we don’t unalive thieves,” Bucky smirks darkly. “We kill them.”
“What???” The woman screams in terror. She throws the blanket at you and runs off, still screaming.
“We kill them now?” You look over your shoulder. “Really? Can we go back to the shelf with the candles? I wanted to buy the last Captain America candle to tease Steve. But there was that bitch stealing it. I don’t think she wants to light the candle. If you know what I mean.”
“She doesn’t want to…” Bucky wrinkles his forehead until you make an obscene gesture. He chuckles and shakes his head. “That’s adventurous and ambitious of her. I don’t think it will fit.”
“Babe, we can press a whole human being out of our vagina. Believe me, it will fit.” You grin as your boyfriend’s cheeks turn pink. “Aw, don’t go all shy on me now.”
“You’re naughty,” he whispers in your ear. “Wait when we come home.”
“Oh, do we want to try if the candle fits?” You giggle and run off as Bucky wants to throw the blanket at you.
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“There you are,” Bucky huffs when he finally catches up with you. “Doll, you left the shopping cart unattended. Again. What if someone stole the blanket?”
“I got more gifts, and candles and the Captain America candle,” you whisper and hide the candle you stole out of the other woman’s shopping cart. “Shush, don’t tell anyone. It’s our secret.”
Bucky grins. “Aw, we are already sharing secrets,” he watches you put more candles and Christmas decorations into the shopping cart. “How many snowmen do you need, doll?”
“I want to beat Tony and Pepper,” you point your index finger at Bucky. “You are going to help me, Barnes. No discussion. I won’t accept any excuses.”
“Y/N, you shouldn’t buy so many things. What if you stumble again?” He quirks a brow. 
“I got a strong man carrying all the bags now,” you pat his chest and pucker your lips. “Right, Bucky. You’ll carry all the things I bought.”
Bucky watches you run your hand over his chest. He hums and enjoys your undivided attention. “Sure, baby doll. I can’t let you carry all the stuff you gathered in not one but two shopping carts.”
You glance at the second shopping cart you filled. “What is a strong man good for if not to carry my shopping bags or throw me over his shoulder…”
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“Bucky! Buck,” you giggle all the way along the hallways. “I didn’t mean this when I talked about carrying my bags and throwing me over your shoulder.
“You got what you wanted, baby doll,” he snickers as you hang over his shoulder. He carries you toward your shared apartment, chuckling as you slap his ass. “I carry your bags and got you over my shoulder.”
“Buck? What happened?” Steve watches his friend carry your bags and you. “Is this your new workout?”
“Oh, we will come to cardio training later, Stevie. I hope we won’t be too loud again…”
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Tags in reblog.
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pink-sparkly-witch · 11 months ago
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The Widow Timestamp: I Love You
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Summary: Sam tells Y/N that he loves her for the first time. This is basically PWP.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader
Rating: 18+ Only
Bingo Square: Jared Padalecki Character for @j3bingo 
Warnings: flirting, kissing, smut, fingering, hand job, p in v.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: My first journey into Sam smut… please be kind 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖
You can catch up with The Widow here!
My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi
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SAM’S POV
“Hey, Dean,” Sam says as he answers his phone.
“Sammy, you better not bail on me tonight,” Dean grumbles, getting straight to the point as always.
“I’ll be there,” he responds. Honestly, the week he’s had at work, meeting his dad and brother at a bar on a Friday night is the last thing he wants or needs right now. A night lounging in sweats, eating Chinese food, and watching a movie he didn’t need to use too much brain power for, is what he really wants to be doing.
“Good. Just checking. Can only get you away from the office if it’s for your girl these days, so…” Dean said.
“Yeah,” Sam chuckles. “Sorry about that. She, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, lost in thoughts of his girlfriend.
“I know, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the smile in his older brother’s voice. “She can’t come, right?” he checks. 
“No, it’s her friend’s birthday, so they’re having a girls night,” Sam says, sounding slightly less enthusiastic than he meant to. 
“What’s the matter? Y/N got you so pussy whipped already that you can’t stand the thought of being away from her for one night?” Dean laughs, and Sam chuckles along with him.
His brother isn’t completely wrong. He and Y/N have been dating for almost three months and are blissfully in the honeymoon period of their relationship, where they can’t get enough of each other or bear to be apart for too long.
“No, it’s… I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office. And it’s the firm’s family day tomorrow, so I’ll see Y/N then, anyway.”
“That’s right. She’s meeting all the big guns for the first time! Are you nervous?” Dean asks, and Sam sighs loudly.
“Yeah. I shouldn’t be. I mean, who cares if they like her, right? Because I do, and that’s all that matters. It’s just… if I want to make partner one day, things like stable relationships and who your other half is seems to have a say in it,” Sam admits.
“They’re gonna love her, man. I think it’d be hard for anyone not to fall in love with her,” Dean reassures him. “You found a good one, Sammy. Hold onto her.”
“I know, I will.”
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Despite his earlier reluctance to spend the night in a bar with his dad and brother, Sam is having a great time. With work and Y/N, it’d been a while since he’s spent this much time with them, making him feel a little guilty.
Sam’s worries about his dad and Dean teasing him about ‘his girl’ are quickly dampened when his dad asks if things are serious between them. Both men had smiled and clapped him on the back at his confirmation that it was and that he was confident she was it for him. The only slightly teasing remark so far has been from his dad.
“Better start saving for a ring, son,” John chuckles.
With both men grinning at him like idiots, Sam feels a hand slide across his shoulders. “I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend,” he says without turning around.
“No, I’m flattered,” Y/N responds, and he smiles before turning to face his girlfriend. “And very reassured.”
“Hey, baby. What are you doing here? I thought girls’ night was across town?” Sam asks as he stands to kiss her.
“Well,” Y/N huffs with a roll of her eyes. “It was, and we were having a great time, but Charlie dragged us all the way over here because she found out the girl she’s crushing on works here. And, you know, can’t say no to the birthday girl!”
“Well, can’t say I’m not happy about that,” Sam chuckles, placing his arm around her shoulders. “You look beautiful, baby.”
“Thank you,” she smiles and glances down his body before she speaks again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear plaid before. I like it. It’s a good look on you,” she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.
“Noted,” Sam chuckles, and Y/N giggles.
“Alright, I’ve had enough of this lovey-dovey bullcrap. Makes me wanna vomit,” Dean winks to show his jest and stands from the table. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”
“No, thanks,” Y/N shakes her head. “I have one waiting for me at my table and probably three tequila shots by now. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”
“Do you, uh, wanna come to my place when you’re, you know?” Sam asks quietly, hoping it’s quiet enough that only she can hear him. His dad’s chuckle and Dean’s slap on the back, and a “Get it, Sammy!” make him want a hole to open in the ground and swallow him.
Y/N laughs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment before he watches her take a deep breath and pull herself together.
“I’d love to, Sam. But the cardinal rule of girls night is that you can’t bail on girls night. Especially for a guy. You know that, right? It’s the whole ‘chicks before dicks’ thing. So, there is no way I’m getting to sneak away from that,” Y/N points to the table of women laughing loudly and downing shots, “before midnight.”
“I’ll wait up,” Sam grins charmingly with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes, watching Y/N’s facial expressions intently as she takes in and interprets his meaning.
“Well, alright then. Guess I’ll see you later,” Y/N said, biting on her plump bottom lip.
“Yeah, you will. Have a good night, baby,” Sam leans down and presses another kiss to her lips.
“You too,” Y/N smirks, pulling Sam down by the lapels of his shirt for one last kiss. “It was good to see you again, John,” she smiles as she reluctantly parts from Sam.
“And you, sweetheart,” John smiles. “You’ll be over for dinner on Sunday, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N returns his smile before turning her attention to the eldest Winchester son. “Dean, that table,” she gestures in the general direction of where her friends are, “is out of bounds.”
“What? But why? Come on, Y/N! There are some real hotties over—” Dean tries, but Y/N’s warning scowl and raised eyebrow make him back down.
“I mean it, Dean! I don’t want my friends badgering me for your number, or with questions about what they did wrong, or asking me to ask Sam to ask you why you didn’t call,” Y/N chuckles.
“Fine,” Dean huffs in resignation before walking over to the bar.
“Good. I’ll see you later, Sam.”
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Y/N’S POV
12:45am
The cab pulls away from the curb, and you walk up the path to Sam’s house. Stopping at the door, you take a second to fluff your hair. You’ve never been like this before; never bothering too much about your appearance and certainly never for a guy. Still, you found yourself touching up your makeup and perfume before leaving the bar to come over here, making sure you look perfect for him.
You ring the doorbell and nervously shuffle from foot to foot, wondering if the butterflies you feel with Sam will ever go away. You hope not, as the flutter turns into a swarm when you hear the door unlocking.
“Hey, baby,” Sam smirks, eyes slowly taking in every inch of you. “Glad you came.”
“Well,” you grin as Sam steps to the side, inviting you into his home. “I know what kinda night I’m in for, and I would be a fool to miss out on this.” You trail your fingers up his chest, grab the neck of his t-shirt, and pull him down to meet your lips, kicking the door closed behind you.
Sam pushes his tongue into your mouth and shoves you against the door. He quickly turns the lock, shutting you in for the night. The kiss is hot and heavy, and you whimper as his fingers tug at the zip of your dress.
You shimmy the material down your body and let it pool at your feet, leaving you only in cobalt blue lace underwear. Sam growls, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, as his lips find their place on your cleavage, licking and sucking your skin.
Sam’s hand trails up your back and into your hair, pulling it hard enough to force your head back and gain access to your neck. He sucks and nips gently, cautious not to leave a mark, knowing tomorrow is an important day for both of you.
“Sam,” you groan, and fuck, is it the neediest and most pathetic you’ve ever heard yourself. “Need you.”
“Yeah?” Sam rasps, his voice deepened with lust. “Right here, baby?”
“Yes,” you gasp, already breathless, and he’s barely touched you yet.
Sliding his hand over your thigh and pushing it between your bodies, Sam pulls your underwear to the side and, without warning, shoves two fingers inside you. He barely lets you adjust to the intrusion as he immediately begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your tight, wet channel, smirking as you moan his name. 
Curling his fingers inside you, he watches your head fall back and thump against the door. “Fuck,” you grunt, your hands dropping from his shoulders and desperately fumbling with his belt. You love it when Sam builds the pleasure and teases you, but you can’t, not tonight. Tonight you need him now.
“Hey, what’s the hurry, baby? We’ve got all night,” Sam chuckles, but you don’t stop undoing his pants, finally pulling his belt loose and moving quickly to the button on his jeans.
With his jeans finally undone, your hand delves into his boxers and finds their prize. Sam is already fully hard, and you grip his cock and pump your fist as best you can while pinned against his door.
Sam growls when your thumb swipes over his sensitive head, turning you on even more. The wet sound that gets louder and louder with every pump of his fingers inside you should embarrass you, but instead, you moan.
“Fuck, baby,” Sam groans lowly into your ear. “I need to be in you.”
“Yes! Please, Sam,” you whimper as his fingers suddenly leave you empty and wanting. He pulls your hands off his cock and teases your clit with its tip before he pushes inside you in one slow thrust.
“Shit,” you whine, still not used to his generous length stretching and filling you so completely. You’ve never had anyone reach so deeply within you, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
Sam holds himself fully sheathed inside you, this time allowing your fluttering walls time to stretch to accommodate him, and his lips find yours in a passionate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.
The second you feel yourself relax around him, he pulls out to the tip and slams back in, punching the air from your lungs. He doesn’t let up, pounding into you ferociously, and your high builds quickly.
Sam’s large hands grip your thighs, and you groan loudly, trying to remember to choose a long dress or pants to wear tomorrow because you can already feel bruises forming where his fingertips are digging into your soft muscle.
It’s become one of your favourite things; the colourful little bruises that litter your skin thanks to his groping hands. He’s an animal in the bedroom, but when it’s over, he always places soft kisses on every mark he leaves in his carnal state.
“Sam, I’m close,” you whine as you slide your hands into his hair and tug on the long strands.
“Oh, sweetheart, I know. I can feel it,” Sam says through gritted teeth. Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you, and you growl in frustration, tugging his hair harder to emphasise your displeasure.
“What the—? Sam, come on! I was nearly there!” You whine, pouting at him when he chuckles, tightening his grip on you and walking towards the sofa.
“I know, and I wanna watch you,” Sam smirks, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.
“Watch me?” you murmur breathlessly.
“I wanna watch you come, and I wanna do it while you ride me.” Sam’s lopsided smirk creates another pool of wetness in your core, and you seem to have lost the ability to speak. “Is that alright, baby?” You nod and gulp, your words still failing you.
“Alright,” Sam says as he unwraps your legs from his waist and puts you down on shaky legs. He pulls your underwear down enough that it falls to your feet before ridding himself of all his clothing.
“Then get riding.” He smacks your ass, sits on the couch, and waits for you to climb onto his lap. You stretch your arms behind your back, ready to unclasp your bra, but Sam clicking his tongue stops you.
“Uh uh, baby. Leave it on,” Sam grins, and you smirk as you finally climb onto his lap and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and sinking down slowly. When your skin meets his, your head falls back with a gasp.
Sam’s hands drag up your body, pausing to toy with your nipples behind the blue lace. He slides the straps down your shoulders, exposing your hardening buds to the cool air briefly before his lips cover one and his hand the other.
Raising your hips up and down his length, you find a rhythm and angle that lets you feel every ridge of him glide perfectly between your walls, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars.
“Sam, baby, I…” You grind your hips through your orgasm, and Sam grunts as your walls clench him.
“That’s it, good girl,” Sam murmurs, kissing your sweat-slicked chest. “Hold onto me, baby.” He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders; you know it’s his turn now, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.
Sam lifts you and lays you on the couch, moving your hands from his shoulders and placing them above your head, trapping them with just one of his own. His other hand grips your thigh and pushes it, forcing your legs to open wide for him.
The first thrust is heaven, hitting everywhere all at once, and you and Sam’s grunting confirms that your walls are still fluttering, clenching, and sucking him in.
“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” Sam groans, his hips moving impossibly faster and pushing in deeper and deeper.
Your eyes roll, and you scream Sam’s name as he sends you soaring over the edge again, taking him with you.
“Fuck, Y/N!” Sam gasps, grinding himself into you, and you feel his release coat your quivering walls. “Fuck, my girl’s got a good pussy. So fucking good, baby.” You’d giggle at his praise if you hadn’t lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak.
Sam drops his head to your chest, kissing over every inch as he grinds against your cervix. You moan with every twitch of him inside you, and when his kisses turn to bites and sucks, you add a high neckline to the list of requirements for tomorrow’s outfit.
He lets go of your hands, and they instantly go to him, wrapping around his back and holding him against you for a little longer.
“I love you,” Sam says, leaving your breasts alone to look at you.
“Yeah?” you smile widely. It’s the first time either of you has said it, and it feels good. It feels right. “You’re not just saying that in your post-orgasmic haze?” you chuckle.
“No. I have for a while now. I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you, too, Sam.”
Tags: @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @octoberclidan @nelachu2423 @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567
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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago
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JJK men with drunk reader part ll
You can find part l with Choso and Nanami here
Pairing: Geto x reader; Megumi x reader; Gojo x reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: harrassment in Geto's and Gojo's part, breakup in Megumi's part, HEAVY (and I mean it) mentions of smut in Gojo's part, I'm sorry if it's shitty As always, I apprechiate every little comment or reblog. Thank you my loves <3
Suguru Geto
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You’ve had the greatest night since forever, celebrating your birthday with your closest friends.
“Okay, one last shot, come on!”
You give in to your classmate Kenzo who literally pushes you to the bar. To be honest, you are already full to the brim and it is definitely past midnight. But still, you let him grab your hand, dragging you behind him while he orders two shots of your favorite liqueur.
“To you, sweetie.”
In a normal state of mind, you’d probably immediately turn him down. Kenzo has been hunting after you since he first laid eyes on you, always trying to push forward a relationship. And while you do think he is a decent person, the spark simply never spread.
But tonight you had way too much drinks to bother about his wording. With a swift motion, you empty the shot glass with one gulp, smiling triumphantly at the man in front of you.
“Hey (y/n), we’ll leave now”, another friend of yours announces.
“Oh yeah, I’ll leave soon too”, you reply with a sly grin.
“You want us to wait for you? You really shouldn’t walk home alone anymore, (y/n)”, the concerned voice of your bestie shouts over the blasting music.
“Nah don’t worry, I’ll go to the toilet now and then call a taxi.”
“Fine. Take care of yourself and make sure you go home alone”
She embraces you in a tight hug. With one last glance at Kenzo she and the others leave.
Suddenly everything seems to be too much for your overstimulated brain. The loud music, the constant glimmering of lights, the sweaty people surrounding you and especially the alcohol that makes you feel dizzy and a little unwell. Yes, it really is time to go.
“I’m gonna pee an’ leave”, you mutter into Kenzo’s ear before turning on your heels and walking towards the toilets.
Damn, you’re really not feeling well anymore. That last shot was definitely too much, you can’t even walk a straight line, even pulling down your panties seems like an impossible act at this point. A glance into the mirror reveals your pale face and sunken eyes. Yeah, you should call it a day. Let’s just get this over with and call a taxi.
You make your way back to the bar, back where you’ve seen Kenzo the last time. Even though you have absolutely no nerve to talk to him right now, you force your way through the crowd of people.
“Will leave now. See ya.”
Without waiting for his reply, you push through the crowd of people to the exit, wobbly legs barely able to even stand on your high heels any longer.
The fresh air of the night hits you like a wall, almost making you throw up. Fuck, you feel like shit. You’ll definitely regret drinking that much in the morning.
“Hopefully I don’ have to puke…”, you mumble to yourself.
While holding onto a tree for support, you kick off your shoes, almost falling into a nearby bush when picking them up.
“Much better…”
The streets are lonely, almost therapeutic at this point. Maybe you don’t even have to call a taxi. After all, you’re only living a few blocks away from here. This shouldn’t be a problem, right?
“Hey, (y/n)!”
Urgh, that voice. That all too familiar voice you really don’t wanna hear anymore tonight.
“What’s up, Kenzo?”
“I can’t believe you’d leave without me!”
You blink at him, face showing absolutely no emotion while you desperately try to not vomit all over him. What’s up with that pick-me guy?
“Told ya I’m goin’ home now.”
He takes a few steps towards you, eyes darkening. Oh no. No, no, no. Even though you’re definitely very very drunk, this gives you chills. This can’t be a good sign. God, please just let him pull some dirt out of your hair, please let him-
“There’s something I wanted to talk about with you for a while now, (y/n).”
Geto didn’t mean to spy on the conversation that lays itself out just a few meters away from him, but he can’t help himself. The two of you probably left the nearby club while he gets home after exorcising some curses. Well, lives can be so different.
“Oh please don’t”, a female voice replies.
He has to squint his eyes in order to see who’s talking. A quite tall man who positioned himself in front a woman. She doesn’t seem too eager to be this close to him, though. Should he help you? No, he shouldn’t interfere.
“Just one kiss. Just one kiss and you’ll see that you like me too.”
The man grabs her shoulders violently, forcing himself onto you.
Geto should just keep going-
“Let me go!”, you scream out, your weak attempts to push him away failing miserably.
He can’t. With rapid steps he walks towards you both, pushing the man so hard that he stumbles backwards.
“I think the lady said no”, Geto notes calmly, positioning himself in front of you.
All you can do is stare at the scene with glossy eyes. Fuck, is it your fault that it came this far? Of course you always knew that Kenzo has feelings for you. You just never thought that he’d…force himrself onto you like that. But far more important is the man that came to save you, that man with his black hair in a neat bun wearing a black uniform. That man that looks so striking that you can’t take your eyes off him.
Who is he?
“This is none of your business!”, Kenzo barks at him.
“You might be right, but I can’t let you force yourself onto her, can I? Now please lower your fists and go home.”
He’s talking so friendly, his voice so soft and melodic that you just have to listen to him. You hold your breath, watching Kenzo’s every move.
“Please just leave, Kenzo. I told ya over and over I don’t wanna be with you”, you mumble.
“Get out of the way!”
It happens faster than you are able to even think. Kenzo lunges himself at the stranger, fists flying through the air. It only takes him one swift motion of his arm to knock Kenzo off his feet, landing in the grass butt first. His other hand is firmly pressed against your shoulder, keeping you at distance to the scene that folds itself out in front of you.  
You have to blink a few times, mind still trying to process what just happened. Kenzo wanted to force himself onto you. That man, that absolutely breathtaking handsome man saved you with just one motion.
“Are you alright?”, the stranger asks in your direction, smiling at you so charming that you forget to properly breathe for a moment.
“Y-yeah…”, you stutter.
“We’ll talk about this when I see you again, (y/n). I won’t forget that”, Kenzo coughs out while lifting himself up.
“We sure will man”, you bark at him.
With one last glance at you, he turns around and stumbles away into the darkness of the night.
“I hope I didn’t scare you too much, I just couldn’t watch this. Are you really fine? You look a little pale to me”, the stranger speaks directed towards you.
The second he turns around to fully face you you are lost. He is much taller than you, huge frame lingering over you like a shadow. Despite his hair being in a neat bun, one single strand of hair frames his delicate features so perfectly that you can’t look away. And that smile…
You are mesmerized.
“Can you hear me? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
You vehemently shake yourself out of your daydreaming.
“Nah, I’m alright.”
“Maybe a little drunk”, the stranger comments with a grin.
“Yeah, that’s for sure”, you mumble, a small smile creeping up your face.
“Are you living far away from here? I’m not comfortable with letting you walk around this late at night all one.”
“It’s a nice lil walk. But if you want to keep me company I wouldn’t be mad. Who are you?”
“My name is Suguru Geto. What’s your name?”
“Huh, what a nice name for a nice man…”, you spit out.
Fuck. Why are you always talking so openly when being drunk? This is definitely not the right time to get saved by a handsome guy.
Suddenly he begins to laugh at your comment, scratching the back of his head with a little blush creeping up his delicate cheeks.
“Don’t flatter me. Let’s get going, shall we?”
“Yeah…”
Even though you carry your heels in your hands, walking seems like an impossible mission this late at night after drinking so much. Your eyes focus on the pavement as hard as they can, mind telling your unruly feet what to do.
“Let me hold these for you.”
Gently, he takes your heels and carries them for you. Oh my, why does he have to be such a gentleman? A striking beautiful man with a character of gold is definitely stuff where dreams are made of.
“Why where you out there this late at night?”, you ask through the silence of the quiet streets around you.
“I just came back from work”, he replies.
“Oh, that’s rough buddy.”
Where the hell is he working this late at night with a fine uniform like the one he’s wearing? Definitely somewhere important.
“God, I love guys in uniform…”, you mumble more to yourself.
But of course he heard you, heart almost beating out of his chest by the way you gaze up at him. Despite you’ve probably been up all night long and what you had to endure that evening, you still look breathtakingly gorgeous.
“Who was that man? Did you know him?”
It’s not wise to get lost in your appearance. After all, he saved you from being harassed. Doing the same thing isn’t appropriate at all.
“Yeah, that’s Kenzo. He has a crush on me since a few years now. Guess he saw a chance because I’m drunk…”, you explain briefly, rolling your eyes just thinking about that jerk.
You’ll definitely confront him and then never talk to him again. What a creep.
Before you’re able to properly understand what’s going on you begin to fall over a breach.
Just a second before you hit the ground full force, a pair of strong arms catches you mid-air.
“Hey, are you alright? Don’t worry, I’ve got you”, Suguru notes, his hands holding you in place.
You don’t know what to do, eyes completely lost in his brown orbs that look down at you gently. His arms feel muscular against your back, making your breath hitch. God, how is this man so attractive? And why on earth is he so kind to an idiot like you? Your hands hold onto his broad shoulders tightly, not daring to let go. It feels as if he light a firework inside you you didn’t even know existed.
Is this the alcohol? No, definitely not.
“I will get you back on your feet now, okay?”, he breathes out while Suguru’s very own knees go weak by the way you gaze up at him.
You continue to walk in silence, both minds racing and hearts pounding out of your chests.
“Here I am…”, you finally mutter.
“You didn’t even tell me your name yet”, Suguru speaks out, kind eyes fixated on yours.
“If you want to see me again, find out and meet me…”, you purr, amazed by your own courage.
“Fine, I will. Have a good night. And don’t meet up with that guy again”, Suguru replies, pulling you into a short hug that leaves you absolutely speechless.
God, please let this man find you when you’re sober.
Please.
Megumi Fushiguro
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He lays his eyes on you the whole time. The way you just sit in the corner of the room, staring into the cup in front of you with empty eyes. While Megumi isn’t the type to party himself, you were always outgoing, confident, everyone’s sweetheart at every event. Seeing you like this at a birthday party doesn’t match this at all.
Why does he bother, though? He never failed to tell you to slow down, after all. Wouldn’t it be strange if he suddenly approached you like that?
“Huh, looks like (y/n) isn’t feeling that well”, Yuji comments beside him.
“I thought so too…”
“She and her boyfriend just broke up. Now she’s sitting there after gulping down some drinks…”, Nobara explains.
Megumi’s heart skips a beat. The two of you broke up? He always hated that guy, the way he treated you like shit and even worse, made you feel like it too. You should be glad it’s over just like he is.
Stop. He shakes his head in disbelief over his own thoughts. Why would he even bother about your relationship? You are nothing more than friends, going to Jujutsu High and fighting together. It isn’t more than that…
Right?
“You should go talk to her, Fushiguro”, Yuji suggests suddenly, making Megumi almost lose his cool.
He, talking to you about your relationship?
“Why me, idiot?”, Megumi mumbles.
“Because you have the best connection with her. No go”, Nobara persists, shoving his body your direction.
No, there’s no way in hell he can have that talk with you. Maybe he’s spilling the beans, maybe you’ll think he’s a weirdo.
Or even worse. Maybe you’ll get the idea that he likes you more than a friend.
Mindlessly, Megumi grabs a cup from the table, pouring down whatever it contains. He has no other choice, though. You’re feeling miserable and he can’t see you like that.
“Hey, how are you doing?”, he greets you before sitting down next to you on the couch.
“Oh, ‘m fine…”, you mumble.
He can tell by the way you smell like a sake factory and your stumbled words that you’ve drank a lot tonight. Megumi swallows, slipping back and forth uncomfortably next to you.
“Actually no. He broke up with me, ‘Gumi…”
Tears swell up your eyes all over again. You shouldn’t be sitting here like a fool, all depressed over a boy who never really loved you. No, you shouldn’t drink so much that you might forget his name. It’s not about him, though. It’s about the way he made you feel like shit, as if you aren’t worth being loved by someone.
And maye…Maybe he’s right with that. Your relationship lasted only 4 months. Maybe it is your fault, after all. Maybe you aren’t someone to be loved.
“I’m sorry to hear that”, Megumi replies.
“Don’t be. The relationship was shit anyways. Just like him…”
Megumi furrows his brows, trying to understand what you mean.
“Then why are you sad?”
Urgh, you hate the way Megumi looks at you, it’s not hard to tell that he’s judging you behind those eyes.
“Never mind, I need fresh air…”, you mumble, standing up so suddenly that your head spins in confusion.
Fuck. Megumi curses himself for being so dumb. Why did he ask such a question? Why did he just let you go like that while he’s still standing there, looking after you like the idiot he is?
Instinctively, his hand grabs another cup before he begins to run after you.
You hate the way tears run down your cheeks all over again. Damn, drinking was definitely a bad idea. While you do feel even better after a few sips of sake normally, the alcohol seems to strengthen your sadness when you’re down already. Angrily, you wipe over your face, try to stop yourself from feeling this depressed over a damned boy.
Megumi’s heart shatters when seeing you outside, your tears glistening in the moonlight. He clenches his hands into fist. God, just thinking about that jerk…How could he hurt you like that?
“Hey”, he gently mutters, his hand brushing over your back.
“Get lost”, you mutter into your hands.
Why does Megumi have to be here right now? He has never seen you cry. No, not in a million years you would have cried in front of him. But at the moment, everything seems to be crashing down on you, life a pile of pain.
“I won’t”, he remarks.
“Maybe it’s because I’m drunk or maybe I’m just being sensitive right now but…Megumi, do you think I’m the problem?”
His fingers stop right in their tracks, eyes darted towards you in nothing but disbelief. Did you really just say that? Is this really how you feel about yourself?
“I don’t want something like that coming out of your mouth ever again, (y/n).”
Suddenly Megumi is so close to you that you can feel his breath brushing against your face, eyes only inches away from yours.
“This guy was a jerk, he never deserved you anyway. You could do so much better.”
With him. You could do so much better with him.
“I know, this isn't about me having feelings for him. But what if I’m the problem, Megumi? Maybe I’m just hard to love…”
Megumi himself doesn’t know what’s happening to him. Is it because he himself drank more than usual or is it because you are drunk? He can’t tell. But at the moment, all he is able to do is grabbing your face and pressing his lips against yours.
He waited so long for this moment, even though he was never able to admit his feelings to you. But how is he supposed to keep his composure when you’re standing in front of him like that, tasting like mohito and tears you shouldn’t be crying out?
“You are definitely not hard to love. Believe me, I know it best”, he mumbles against your lips.
Your sharp and fast breath brushes against his opened lips, glossy eyes gazing up at him. Did Megumi really just kiss you? The Megumi Fushiguro who told you over and over how much he dislikes you? The Megumi Fushiguro who never really showed his feelings to anyone?
“Megumi”, you breathe out.
“Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I love you. I have loved you for a long time”, he mumbles.
“Finally!”, Nobara suddenly cries out.
Both of you break away from each other immediately, your face heated like fire.
“You see, Fushiguro? Wasn’t that hard, was it?”
“Can you just leave you idiots…”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“Tell me (y/n), is he a good kisser?”
“NOBARA!”
Satoru Gojo
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You can’t help but admire your boyfriend on the dancefloor, his sunglasses reflecting the neon light so well. God, what a beautiful sight he is, how absolutely gorgeous.
“Enjoying the view babe?”, he shouts your direction.
His voice magically attracts you. Without thinking twice you make your way to him, arms wrapping themselves around his neck while you rub your butt against his crotch. The way his gaze lingers over your body makes shivers run down your spine, drunk mind wandering to places it shouldn’t be in.
“I’d rather enjoy you, babe”, you purr into his ear.
How is it that you have a few cocktails and start acting like a horny teenager? Satoru doesn’t mind, though. Quite the opposite, he loves it when your attention lays exclusively on him. In a crowd full of good-looking man, he is the only one you stare at shamelessly.
And he is the only one who’ll take you home tonight.
“I’ll grab a drink, don’t run away from me”, you seductively note, hands roaming around his broad chest before letting go.
“You’d have to stop me from following you instead, babe.”
With a last grin, you disappear in the crowd. Damn, how did he get so lucky? You’re the best thing that could have happened to him, a woman that turns heads on a regular basis. And you’re his. Exclusively his alone, the only man who gets the pleasure to see your striking body, the only one who’s allowed to hear your cute little moans.
“What is a cutie like you doing here on her own, huh?”, a black-haired guy next to you suddenly hushes into your ear, his breath of sake almost making you retch.
Ew, who is this guy and what the hell does he want from you? Even though you get it on from time to time, something about than man tells you that he’s off.
You are way too drunk and horny to deal with him right now.
“I’m not on my own, thank you”, you remark dryly, watching as the bartender mixes your swimming pool.
His body draws uncomfortably closer. So close that you can feel his disgusting body heat against yours.
“You sure about that? I’m not seeing any guy around here.”
Stay cool, he will leave when he finally gets that you don’t have interest. One last comment will be enough to get rid of him.
“That’s because you’re not looking close enough, asshole”, you bark back.
Faster that you are able to react he grabs your wrist, roughly forcing you to face him. Well, you definitely didn’t expect this. You dizzy mind races, trying to think about what to do next.
“Get your hands off me, idiot”, you shout at him, desperately trying to free yourself out of his iron grip.
“You’re a little drunk, huh? That blush on your cheeks, I can see you like that…”
You can feel his hand before he even speaks a word, his sheer presence making time stand still for a moment. This man will hope he never stepped into that bar tonight.
“You’re touching something that’s mine.”
His voice might sound calm to an unexperienced listener, but you know all too well that he’s cooking on the inside. If there’s something your boyfriend hates more than anything else it is men approaching, let alone touching you.
“Sorry, didn’t read your name on her”, the man replies with a sly grin.
Oh, wrong answer. Definitely wrong answer. Satoru’s grip around your waist tightens, pressing you even closer to himself.
“I won’t repeat myself. Get your dirty hands off her right now or you’ll regret it.”
But even though you kind of enjoy the way your boyfriend stands up for you, you’ve seen enough. It is time to take matters into your very own hands.
“Don’t worry babe. I’ve got this”, you mumble into your boyfriend’s ear.
Violence isn’t a solution. No, it would be a bad idea to slap him. After all, he isn’t worth getting entangled with the police or getting your knuckles bruised.
Fuck it.
With a swift motion of your fist, you knock the man in front of you off his feet, nose instantly bursting out in blood.
“Next time think carefully about who you’re harassing, asshole”, you spit at him, pressing your heel into his cheek before walking away with Satoru right by your side.
“Nice blow handsome”, he comments, guiding you out of the bar as if nothing happened.
“I’m kinda proud, didn’t thought I had this in me after four cocktails”, you reply with a satisfied grin.
The cool air outside caresses your heated face gently. To be honest, you have enough of partying. All you want to do is going home now. After all, you are still on a mission…
“Babe, are you okay with leaving?”, you question, wrapping your arms around his back.
“To do what?”, he teases you, placing his hands just a few inches over your butt.
You know exactly what he’s up to, that he wants to make you blush. But after a few drinks, you aren’t that reserved anymore.
“To get myself laid on your couch while moaning your name of course”, you response sweetly.
Fuck, Satoru can feel something twitch inside his pants, begging him to take you home right here on the spot. Desperately he wraps his arm around you, caressing your face with a bunch of kisses.
“You’re mine”, he breathes against your forehead, hands roaming all over your body.
“Yours alone”, you confirm.
“No matter who else wants you.”
“I only want you…”
“That’s what I wanna hear. Now let’s ride home, shall we?”
“How about me riding you in the car though?”
Satoru grabs your hands, hastily dragging you to his car.
“You don’t have to say that twice…”
530 notes · View notes
agi-ppangx · 1 year ago
Text
him (hwang hyunjin x fem!reader)
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warnings: mentions of alcohol, both reader and hyune are a bit tipsy but everything is consensual, heavy make-out but nothing explicit !! also the reader wears a skirt and make-up
author’s note: i know its different from what i usually do and its also not my best work, but i really like this drabble so please bear with me !! also remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽
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the muffled sound of music reached your ears as hyunjin broke the kiss to take a few shaky breaths. you studied his face expression, his furrowed brows and rosy cheeks making you all giddy. “do you think they wonder where we are?” you asked him breathlessly, smiling. “i don’t care,” he mumbled and kissed you again. you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, trying to bring him even closer to you. the alcohol in your veins made you hyper aware of his touch - his fingertips dancing delicately on your exposed knees, on your waist, your neck; he was everywhere and your sanity was nowhere to be found. lust completely fogged your mind, craving only him. him, him, him. you were entirely suffocated by his presence, completely forgetting about the world behind the bathroom door, about the party and about the fact that your friends probably were looking for you, getting worried because it’d been too long since the two of you disappeared. but you only cared about him. nothing mattered as he deepened the kiss, his fingers now caressing your thighs and you grabbed a fistful of his hair, completely messing his ponytail.
you know you shouldn’t be doing this. it’s wrong, your mind tells you. but as hyunjin kissed you you wanted more of him, knowing that forbidden fruit tastes the best. it’s not like you were together anyway, just casually making out to fill the void in your hearts.
your phone started buzzing on the sink next to you. you tried to break the kiss, but hyunjin was too lost in it to care about the call. you opened one eye and grabbed your phone, trying to find out who dared to break this precious moment between you and him. “shit,” you mumbled into hyunjin’s mouth and it was only then when he glanced at the screen. “hyune, i think we should go back to them,” you said, your mood changing drastically. “why? we’re grown ups and they aren’t our parents, right?” he reasoned with a smirk, placing his hands on your waist. you sighed loudly, dropping your head. “you know what i mean, she’s your-” “yeah, she’s my ex, so what? it’s a closed chapter, i don’t have to limit myself anymore,” he interrupted you, leaving small kisses all around your cheek and lipstick-stained jaw. “you’re the only one i care about, okay?” you knew he said it mostly because he was drunk and didn’t think straight, but so were you. that’s why you grabbed his collar once again, thinking fuck it, and crashed your lips with his, tasting the forbidden fruit once more. the world around you disappeared again, letting you lose yourself in his soft, pillowy lips and strong, toned arms. you let yourself lose in him.
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taglist !
@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby
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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years ago
Note
Natasha Romanoff x Bimbo!Reader
You’re a pretty assistant working at the Avengers’ compound. Your job is simple and easy cause, really, it’s the most you can handle. She gets frustrated at how you keep flaunting your assets at the men, especially other Avengers, Steve and Thor’s eyes practically popping out of their sockets as you bend over the table at a meeting and your cleavage shows. She decides to corner you in a room and teach you a lesson on what being an airheaded little tease gets you.
my first natasha fic! I'm so happy, I hope you like it!
summary - natasha is fed up with you flaunting everything to the other avengers.
warning - smut, female on female, fingering, swearing, slut, bimbo.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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How could you be so oblivious? Did you not know that you were showing everything off to everyone? You always come to work in tiny skirts and revealing tops. Natasha scowled in the corner of the room as she watched you bend over the table, gathering some of the spilled papers. Oblivious to Steve’s and Thor’s eyes practically popping out of their heads as they land on your cleavage. Her jaw clenches as you giggle, standing straight and letting out a small oops. You spin around, giving her a soft smile, her eyes stuck to your glossy lips. She desperately wanted to bend you over that table and punish you for being an oblivious slut. 
The whole meeting, Natasha watched you, thinking of ways to teach you a lesson. When the meeting finished, you left the room, clueless to the many eyes watching your hips sway. She decided to follow and smiled when you walked into an empty room. Natasha locked the door behind her, stalking closer to you. She grips your hips and spins you around, a squeak falling from your lips as you stare at her wide-eyed. “You shouldn’t be such an airheaded little tease.” Her hand approaches your face, and her thumb rests on your bottom lip as she pushes it gently, staring into your eyes. “You might give someone the wrong idea, or maybe that’s what you want, huh? You want someone to fuck the bimbo out of you.” 
You whimper, your lips wrap around her thumb, and you begin to suck automatically. You barely notice Natasha spreading your legs, her other hand sliding between them, and you moan when her fingers start to play with your puffy clit. “I–I…” 
“No knickers?” She growls, glaring down at you as her fingers slide deep into your tight little hole. “You fucking slut, you were just asking for this.” She watches you whimper and squirm, still sucking her thumb as your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Always teasing me with your tiny skirts and tight shirts. Do you know hard it is to stay calm and not ruin you in front of everyone else?” She whispers. Her sultry voice causes your walls to clamp down on her fingers, whining as she curls them into your sweet spot. Her thumb rolled around your puffy clit, making you see stars. 
Your lips pout when Natasha pulls her thumb from your mouth, only to moan as she places her lips against yours, moving them slowly as you lean into her. Her fingers curl, and her pace picks up. Your cunt pulses, and your back arches. You whine as your juices flow out, covering her, and she smirks, pulling them out and sticking them in her mouth. “Mm, you taste so good, baby.” The fingers in her mouth move to yours, and you moan around them as you suck your juices off. “You’re mine now. I’m the only one that gets to taste you, understand?” You nod, continuing to suck.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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chochuuya · 11 months ago
Text
flu confession.
kazutora hanemiya x fem!reader
notes: classic old school fluff, shy tora (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚
wc: 587
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his voice is so stuffy over the phone.
“hurrgh,” kazutora groans. you can picture the scene now— him swaddled in layers of blankets, desperately trying to get over the flu. it’d be funny if it didn’t sound like he was two seconds from sneezing every time he spoke.
you call out his name and he goes, “huh?” in return. “oh, i didn’t mean to call somebody. uh, i’ll hang— achoo!”
you chuckled in response.
“poor you. get well soon, kazutora. don’t worry, i made extra notes and got you the handouts for the lessons you missed!”
“no, no, hang on,” he says, sniffling. “don’t go.”
his voice is strained, but he still sounds grateful for the time. “you don’t have better things to do? like... hang out with friends or whatever?”
“it’s 4 in the morning man..”
“yeah, uh, true.” he pauses, “what’re you doing up so late?”
“can’t sleep haha, plus it’s raining. i thought i could listen to some songs down the nostalgic lane.”
“oh, you’re a music girl, hmm?” he grins behind the screen, you can tell he likes the sound of that. “whatcha listening to?”
“not really.” you chuckled softly. “oh, right now.. don’t laugh but it's beautiful girls by sean kingston. kinda random, i know.”
hanemiya raises his eyebrows. “that’s a catchy song. i’ll be honest with you, though, most would’ve said taylor swift or... uh, i dunno, i’m running out of examples.”
he laughs, “so do you usually stay up this late all the time or is it the storm?”
you laughed along. “honestly, both.”
“yeah, i’m with ya there. the rain’s pretty relaxing, but it’s also kind of lonely.”
he pauses. “can i ask you something?”
“sure, what’s up?”
“you’re not gonna think it’s stupid?”
“let’s hear it first.”
“well…” he gulps, “do you think we’d make a good couple?” his voice is shaky but he says it anyway.
that made you sit straight up, staring at the phone in disbelief. the time keeps on running and you still couldn’t believe your own ears.
“..why would you think that, kazutora?”
“well.. i’m not sure, really. i just...”
he trails off, ‘just’ almost turning to ‘got a crush on you’.
“never mind,” he says quickly. “i’m just tired and sick. i shouldn’t say things like that.”
“i, uh.. it’s fine.” you chuckled nervously.
shoot i don’t even know what to say, you thought to yourself.
“yeah, okay.” he sniffles again. “can... uh... can you keep a secret, (y/n)?”
“of course.”
“okay. so, uh…”
there’s silence for a moment. kazutora takes a deep breath, then spills his guts. “i’m really into you.”
the boy blushes but he swore it’s just his fever acting up. “i’ve thought about it for a while, but i didn’t want to ruin anything. but we always get along and you’re really funny. and pretty.”
he clears his throat. “‘m i embarrassing myself?”
“no.. not at all, kazutora. thank you, you’re so sweet. i think you’re kinda cute too.” you let out a nervous laughter.
“wait, really?” his voice is a jumble of different emotions. surprised. happy. relieved. nervous. he doesn’t try to hide them very hard.
“are you just saying that?”
you laughed quietly at his remark. “no, i mean it.”
“oh. okay then.”
tora’s heart is about to jump out of his chest, but when did it ever listen to him before?
“so... do you want to hang out sometime?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant. “when i’m not dying of the flu, of course.”
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please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!
so so cute (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) please do like/reblog/interact if you enjoy reading this hehe, always appreciated ♡♡
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago
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Tell me, tell me, tell me
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Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Loki
Summary: your husband doesn't handle change well and falls into old habits.
This is one of my birthday drabbles. Of course, little lies had a lot of votes and has earned it's own little add on. Thanks again for your input :) Enjoy.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
A birthday drabble for Little Lies 
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You sit up and smile as the man exits Loki’s office. He looks content but your husband looks less than as he appears in the doorway. He crosses his arms and watches the candidate leave. You’ve gone through this routine at least two dozen times this week. 
“How was it?” You ask. 
He hums flatly and stares after the man’s departure. 
“His resume was great. What’s wrong?” 
Loki pouts and looks at you. He stands straight and crosses his arms. “He’s not you.” 
“Oh, I know. I’m so talented at keeping your agenda,” you retort dryly. “You can’t keep doing this. You have to hire someone.” 
“Don’t you understand?” He strides forward and stops just on the other side of your desk. His hands drop to his hips. “You’re asking me to replace you. That’s impossible.” 
“Ha, when did you get so sentimental?” You ignore him for the email on your screen. 
“Since the day you broke your leg, actually.” 
“Shut up,” you snip without looking up. 
“Truly. As worried as I might’ve been, I do miss those crutches. You were... manageable then.” 
You shake your head. “Well, you never are, but I’m hoping you can find an assistant that can do a somewhat decent job of it.”
He huffs and slithers around the desk. He sits on the corner, crowding you. “It won’t matter. I’ll be a mess without you, darling.” 
“I screened him. What was wrong with Peter?” You challenge, leaning back in your chair to face him. 
“Little upstart. I don’t need him flirting with my clients,” he harrumphs. 
“As if you don’t.” 
“On my honour,” he puts his hand to his chest, “I’ve changed my ways. You know it. I gave my vows.” 
“Uh huh.” You tut and check the time. “Well, who else? Jacqueline was good. She has a great CV and she’s very warm and welcoming.” 
“But I adore the way you snarl at me. It makes me...” Loki trails off and touches his belt. 
“You’re looking for an assistant,” you remind him. 
“Yes, but I will be losing my wife.” 
“That’s dramatic. It’s not like you can’t come see me. I can come back too between terms.” 
“School. You’re leaving me for school,” he mopes and shakes his head. 
“I’m trying to better myself, Lo. I don’t want to be your secretary my whole life.” 
“Personal Assistant,” he corrects. “Prized Asset.” 
“Ugh, you are so--” you put your hand up in exasperation. “This isn’t about the job. You’ll just call the temp agency, huh? So, you don’t have to pay benefits.” 
He shrugs guiltily as he examines the wall behind you. 
“What is this really about?” You insist. 
“Nothing.” 
“Tell me.” 
“I swear, I’ll miss you--” 
“Yeah, yeah, and I’ll miss you too. Blah blah blah,” you flutter your fingers at him and push yourself to your feet. You go to him and he looks at you with those sparkling green eyes. You put your hands on his shoulders and he instinctively frames your hips. “What is bothering you so much?” 
He stares at you then looks down. His lips thin and he tilts his head one way then the other. His gaze flicks back up to you. A grin creases his face and he laughs, “it’s foolish. Stupid! I shouldn’t worry.” 
“Loki,” you warn. 
He sighs. He peeks over at the door and his mouth slants. “You’re going to meet a lot of young men. Like that Peter.” 
You narrow your eyes and frown. Then you smile and scoff. You grab his chin and make him look at you, “you’re worried I’m going to meet some young gun and ditch my old man?” 
“Old? I wouldn’t use that word,” he winces. 
“You really think I would run off with some young hunk? With big burly shoulders and a nice chest...” Your let your tone drift into a dreamy drone. “Oh and thick hair and stamina like no one’s business...” 
“Hey!” He pokes your side and you cackle. 
“Loki, I’m not going to do anything like that. I’ll be far too busy studying and I’m too old for all that. Those twenty-year olds don’t want me. Now, hire a replacement so I can deal with all this nonsense.” You caress his cheek and give a smile. 
“You underestimate those twenty-year old cads. I once was one and I would've pounced on you at once.” 
“Oh really. Because you’re like forty and took years.” 
“Eh, let’s not toss around numbers here.” He sniffs. “I’m just saying that you are a beautiful woman, obviously. I married you. And those young ones, well, they like the allure of an older woman.” 
“Alright, alright,” you pat his shoulder. “Let it go.” You exhale and look him in the face. He stares back at you and squeezes your hips. “I’ll miss you.” 
His cheeks dust with pink and he smirks, “I'll miss you too, darling.” 
“You better.” 
His eyes fog and slowly crawl down. You squirm as he stands, crowding you, and his hands grazes along your sides. He walks his fingertips up and down and grips your waist again. He spins you suddenly, pinning you against the desk. 
“Let me be your young gun, eh? Show you this old man’s still got it.” He purrs. 
“Lo,” you rub his chest. 
“I can’t have you running off not thinking of me and how I’d put any of them to shame.” He winks and leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “Mm, Mrs. Laufeyson, is that what you want? A sweet young thing. I’ve not lost my touch, believe me.” 
“Lo,” you put your hand over one of his. 
“I feel you trembling, darling.” 
“Not here,” you tug on his hand. 
“Anywhere.” He urges you back until you hit the desk.  
He leans in until you’re forced to brace the desk. You strain backward and he reaches around to swipe the desk clear. Your monitor and laptop teeter dangerously near the edge as the rest of your things scatter. You gasp. 
“Loki!” 
“I’ll buy new ones,” he lifts you at once and puts you on the desk. 
“You can’t--” 
“I am.” 
He puts his hand under your chin and forces your head up. His thumb rubs along your cheekbones as he marvels down at you. He exhales and tickles your nose with his. You scrunch up your face and he presses a kiss to your lips. 
You push against his chest as his tongue glides along your lips. You murmur and try to resist. You never can. His hand brushes up and down your side then hooks up to your neck. He holds your head between his hands as he invades your mouth. He consumes you as he shifts and pushes between your knees. 
You clutch his lapel and part from his lips with a gulp. “Loki--” 
“Let me remind you who you married, darling. It was no old man,” he yanks his tie free as he clings to the front of your blouse, bunching it as he keeps you snagged. He tosses the silk and draws you back to him. 
You giggle, cheeks vibrant with heat, and shake your head. “Oh, I know who I married.” 
“And you will keep it in mind with those young lads.”  
He pinches a button, tediously undoing it with a single hand. He snarls and withdraws briefly to tear open his shirts. Buttons scatter as he snarls and steps up once more. He cradles your head in his hands and enshrines you in another fervent kiss, this one has you breathless. 
You put your hands on your chest, feeling the way his muscle tenses with need. He shudders as you drag your touch down to his stomach and the firm muscle clenches. He growls into you and bends you until your back is against the desk. He pins you there as he runs his hand down the length of your figure. 
He hooks his thumb beneath the hem of your dress and pushes the skirt up. You wriggle and feel blindly along his belt. He twitches as you latch onto his buckle. He hums and parts from your mouth, gasping against your cheek. 
His belt clinks open at your blind tugging and you pick open his fly. He growls and nips your ear lobe, laying a trail of kisses across your jaw and down your neck. He pants slacken and you push them down with his briefs. He springs free and wiggles his hips so his belt slides lower. 
He pulls your rear over the edge and flutters his fingers along your thigh. You curl your other leg around him as he tickles the front of your panties. He presses your clit through the thin fabric. You draw his mouth back to yours hungrily.  
Your tongues meet in a flurry of need and dread. You need each other right then and dread the separation to come. You’ve been outrunning that fact. That distance will not be easy, even so much as you’ve longed for it. 
He rubs you through your panties until he can feel you seeping through. He traces the trim of the lingerie and peels them away from your cunt. The satin bunches against your thigh as he flips your skirt up and moves closer. 
You know each other by touch. He finds you without hesitation. He slides into you in a single lunge and you drone in delight. Your turn your head as his wet lips smear over your cheek. He groans as your walls squeeze him. 
“Darling,” he drawls. 
You puff and arch your back, hooking your legs so that your heels press into the back of his thighs. You tilt your hips, goading him on as he takes his long, patient strokes. That pace he keeps when he means to torture. 
You snarl and grab his chin. You force his head up, “I thought you said you weren’t going to fuck me like an old man.” 
His eyes flicker and his lips curve into a devious smirk. He slams his hips against you and you cry out. Your nails dig into his jaw and you laugh through your teeth. He does it again, jolting the desk with you, and you quiver around him. 
“Oh, yes,” you grit. “You can do it, old man.” 
“Old. Man.” He chuffs out and rams into your again. 
You chuckle only to be met with another blunt rut. Your voice fizzles to a squeal.  
He traces along the top of your dress and drags the sleeve down your shoulder. He follows the cut of the bodice and uncovers your bra beneath. He quickly pulls the strap down and flips the cup inside out. He fondles you at once.  
His hips pump into you, harder and harder. His thumb flicks over your nipple, swirling around to tease. He hunches and dips down to take the bud between his teeth. He snarls and bucks faster. You hug him between your thighs and wrap an around his head. 
His other hand snakes down between your bodies. He pushes against your clit, the motion of his pelvis moving his fingers against you. The friction melds into the pressure inside. Your eyes roll back as you cling to his shoulder, your other hand on his lower back, beckoning him deeper. 
His harried grunts punctuate your soft moans, the slap of flesh and constant clink of his buckle adding to the twisted melody of your fucking. You roll your hips up into his. Just a little more. 
Your thighs shake and the swell in your core threatens to boil over. Your voice begins to crest and suddenly, he stops. You groan and clamp onto his side. You try to pull him down as he lifts himself. He keeps only his tip inside of you.  
Your eyes snap open as he flings his tussled hair back and looks you in the face. Your brows furrow. 
“Old man?” He challenges. 
“Lo...” you breathe, “please.” 
“No, no, that is what you said. So, allow me to prove you wrong.” He snickers and nips at your lower lip. “I can keep up, can you?” 
He dips into you slowly and you whine. Your head lolls and your lashes flutter. You bare your teeth at him and hiss. “I hate you.” 
“How can you hate this, darling?” He rears back and thrusts again. “Mm, I feel the way you’re clinging to me.” 
“Just--” You flare your nose and turn your head straight. “Do it. Old man.” 
His irises spark and he snaps his hips. You yipe and he twirls his fingertips against your clit. You shudder at the sensation. 
“Oh ho, darling, do you want to cum?” 
“Loki--” 
“Tell me you want to cum.” 
“Lo--” 
“Beg me.” He commands and pulls his fingers away. The coolness left in the shadow of his touch makes you squirm. “I did vow to serve you, darling, but I cannot if you do not say what you want.” 
Frustration, desperation, call it what you will. You whimper and reach for his hand. You guide it back to your clit and growl, “make me cum.” 
It’s his turn to shiver. He twists his hand away from yours to grab your fingers and pushes them to your bud. You gasp as he uses them to rub you instead. As he does, his hips fall into tempo. 
He fucks you so the desk scrapes the floor and his thighs hits the sharp edge. He raises himself as he spreads a hand across your stomach and watches himself delves into you, over and over. He guides your fingers in a frantic rhythm and the tension clusters beneath your own touch. 
You spasm and cry out, legs locked around his as you trap him inside you. 
“Oh, yes, make me cum, Loki, make me--” you descend into a stream of gibberish as you contort on the desk. You bite your knuckles to silence yourself, heaving wildly as your lungs burn and your skin tingles. 
“Um...” a knock sounds at the door and Loki halts mid-thrust. You share a startled look then slowly glance over at the open door. Shit. The last interviewee, Peter, stands dumbfounded as he peers in from the hall. “I, uh, forgot my phone in your office.” 
“Well,” Loki clears his throat and looks down at you with a sinister gleam. “Go and get it. Can’t you see I’m busy?” 
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sashaisready · 7 months ago
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I'm Still Here - Chapter Five
Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader
In late 60s Meade, you’re married to Sheriff Bodecker, pregnant with your first child. On paper you’re the perfect couple – the respectable Sheriff and his homemaker wife. This should be one of the happiest times of your life…so why are the two of you living like ghosts? And is it too late to bridge that gap? Especially when your husband is playing a dangerous game.
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Strong violence, mild violence/threat towards pregnant woman, gun violence, knife violence.
This is the final chapter, I hope you've enjoyed! As always I appreciate reblogs and comments. This was a bit different for me and I enjoyed exploring it.
Wordcount: 3.5k
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You could hear the men downstairs, roaming around and picking things up, calling out your name. Lee let you use your real first name after you married him. After all, nobody would find you with Bodecker as your last name, and nobody knew who Honeybee really was, so there was no risk. It was Lee’s idea; he was very clear that you shouldn’t lose all of your previous self in order to make room for the new you. He still liked to call you Honey, a little nod to how you met.
You felt rage brimming within as they used your first name, as they moved around your house and pawed at your things. How dare they? Your name wasn’t for their mouths, your belongings not for their eyes. The audacity to come into your home, the first real home you’d ever had, shared with the man you loved (and soon shared with your child), and sullying it with their voices, their presence, their grubby hands. Your heart pinched as you briefly wondered what they’d done to Lee…if they had hurt him…if he was even still al-
…But you couldn’t think about him right now. You needed to concentrate on you and baby. There would be time for him later.
Your finger squeezed the trigger of the shotgun.
These men were not going to take away what you’d fought your entire life for. Yes, it wasn’t all smooth sailing right now, but it could be fixed. It could all be fixed. You could see that now, finally it was clear. This wasn’t their call to make. You didn’t know yet what they’d taken from you…but if it was Lee? Well. If you couldn’t save him, you would avenge him.
“You take upstairs, I’ll do the kitchen and the garage” you heard one of them say as they hovered at the foot of the staircase.
This was it. You had been flitting between strategies since you had pulled out the gun. You had considered fleeing, but you weren’t exactly agile in your current condition. Plus, most of the neighbours weren’t around, so where would you go? Even if you called the station, which wasn’t likely as the men would hear you first and corner you by the phone, the police wouldn’t get here in time anyway. Your only choice was to go on the offensive.
Them separating was good, much easier to take on one armed man than two. The question was whether you went in guns blazing (literally) and took out goon number one, knowing the sound would send goon number two straight up the stairs right to you. Or maybe you needed to dispatch goon number one more quietly, as not to alert suspicion of goon number two and retain the element of surprise. But a shotgun wasn’t exactly a subtle shot, even with a silencer. And there was more of a guarantee you’d take him out quickly if loudly, rather than with a quieter, more discreet method. The last thing you needed was two of them coming for you at once, especially if one is wounded and pissed about it. Lord knows you’d dealt with that enough times in the past to know it was best to avoid.
The careful footsteps up the stairs and then along the hallway meant the decision was made for you. You stayed perfectly still as he drew closer; he called out your name and you gave your stomach a final cursory rub as you watched the doorknob slowly rotate…
The door gently rolled open, and you could pinpoint the moment he saw you, his features pinging across his face in a look of surprise as his fist tightened around the pistol in his right hand.
“Mrs-”
But it was too late. You fired, your feet squatting apart to keep your balance from the inevitable recoil. It was much louder than you remembered it being, but maybe it just sounded that way in the cosy enclave of the spare bedroom. The noise thundered in your ears and the stench of gunpowder and heat hit your nose as you bounced backwards slightly.
You watched his expression change for a split second as he realised what was happening, but it was over quickly as the blood and tissue enveloped his fear. His heavy frame slumped to the floor with a sickening thud and just as quickly as he’d arrived, he was face down on the plush cream carpet. You were grateful not to see the full grisly aftermath of your handiwork.
“I promised I’d never do this again, but you left me no choice” you whispered regretfully to him as you pumped the weapon once more. But of course, he couldn’t hear you.
You toed the pistol out of his closed fist and kicked it under the dresser. It wasn’t like he was going to suddenly get up and start firing – but you could never be too careful.
You held the shotgun back up and tensed your ears through the slight ringing to try and make out the sounds in the rest of the house. The fact that his buddy hadn’t run up the stairs, or even called out to check on his friend, worried you. He was either a big rookie at this and was somewhere in the house cowering, or worst-case scenario – he was more experienced than that and was being more cautious than his departed pal as he waited to make his move.
You stayed where you were for a moment, listening to the sounds of the house. Nothing stood out. You could hear the low hum of the refrigerator downstairs and the distant song of a bird outside, but little else. The optimist in you hoped he had fled, but you would’ve heard the front door. After some time had passed, you took a couple of steps backwards while keeping your eyes on the door. You quickly glanced out of the window. Their van was still parked up out front. No sign of anyone outside.
You moved forward again, back to your post in front of the fallen man. If you glanced quickly you might think he was praying at your feet. The adrenaline was pumping hard as you steadied your breathing and kept the gun raised. You looked out into the hallway once more, seeing only the wedding photo of you and Lee affixed to the wall across from the doorway. You smiled. You both looked so happy.
And you had been happy. It had been difficult to transition to this new life, to give up thieving and fighting for pot roasts and furniture polish. To play your new role, to be a ‘normal’ wife, smile in the right places and pretend your mother had taught you to cook and clean and sew like everyone else’s had. There was an unspoken code all the other wives seemed to know that you could barely scratch the surface of. Every fibre of your being screamed that you didn’t belong.
However, falling for Lee had not been difficult. No. It was the easiest thing in the world. You supposed you were already halfway there long before his strange proposal in the woodshed that day. Part of you had always known. You imagined you would’ve found each other no matter which path you took. It was easy and effortless. It was the one thing you didn’t have to fake. There was no artifice in that wedding day smile. You’re not sure why he took a chance on you, but you were glad he did. You had cherished every moment with him. Every late-night conversation. Every handhold as you strolled in public. Every reassuring hand pressed onto your lower back when he knew you were feeling overwhelmed. Every groan in your ear as he slipped inside of you, every caress, every hungry kiss, every sweet embrace. The safest place in the world was in his arms when the two of you drifted off to sleep. He has saved you and given you a new start, and while it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, you were grateful. You wanted to make him proud.
And this was no exception.
Time passed and there was still no movement from the missing man. You were both in a stand-off, waiting the other out. It continued. The silence almost mocking.
After more time had passed (it felt like hours) you decided to take the bull by the horns and finish this. You would no longer be cornered in your home; you would tackle this how the Cypress gang used to. Finish it. For baby. For Lee. For you.
You took a deep breath and stepped carefully over the man’s body and out into the hallway, the shotgun raised, and your muscles clenched. You peered out tentatively. Nobody either side. Feeling emboldened you took another step forward.
Before you had time to plan your next move, the shotgun was unceremoniously yanked from behind, leaving your hands and tumbling you to the floor. Fuck. You looked up to a dark-haired man standing over you, the gun barrel pointing between your eyes. He was clenching his teeth in anger.
“You fucking bitch…” he growled.
He must’ve been hiding out in another room and waited until your guard was down. You should’ve caught that. Clearly, you were a little rusty.
“You’re gonna pay for that you whore” he snarled at you as he squinted over at the other man.
He sighed. “I’m sorry Bobo…” he muttered as he shook his head at the crumpled figure.
“Please…I-”
“Shut up” he barked, crashing the gun against your forehead. “You got lucky with your husband’s gun, but it won’t happen again”.
“Lee…Where…where is he?” you asked, your voice hoarse with fear.
“He’s alive” the man muttered. “Unfortunately.”
You thought you might throw up with the relief that flooded you. He was okay. Probably roughed up but okay. All the more reason to keep going.
“Please sir…I’m pregn-” you began to plead but he held up his hand and signalled for you to stop.
“I know. I’m not blind, sweetheart” he sighed, almost a hint of regret in his tone. “This isn’t personal, all right? Your fatass husband got you into this mess. I’m sorry”.
“You don’t have to do this…” you said quietly.
“I do” he sighed again. “I need to show Sheriff Bodecker who is in charge here”.
“What…what are you going to do to me? To us…?” you rubbed your stomach.
“Just get downstairs” he snapped. “Do what I say, and I’ll go as easy as I can”.
You nodded, your mind going a million miles an hour. Could you run? Try grab the gun off him? Scream?
“I’m going to stand up, alright?” you offered coyly, raising your hands to show you weren’t a threat.
He nodded and you slowly got to your feet. The little fall fortunately hadn’t been too rough. You were okay. Baby was okay.
All this man knew about you was that you were Lee’s little wife. He thought you got lucky with ‘Bobo’ or whoever that was. Don’t give him any reason to doubt that. Back in the gang, you used a similar routine all the time, all doe-eyed and flustered. Men always underestimated you. They simply could not fathom that you were anything less than meek and scared.
“P-please sir…” you mumbled tearfully, shaking a little.
Underestimating your enemy was the worst mistake you could make. He would soon learn that lesson.
He gestured you to go down the stairs and you cautiously descended, moving slowly. He followed close behind, the shotgun looming between your shoulder blades. He was muttering and cursing, clearly improvising all of this after unexpectedly losing his employee.
He led you to the living room when he told you to stop. Keeping the gun pointed on you, he rested it on his shoulder briefly as he used his free hand to dig around in a knapsack on the floor that he must’ve stashed when they came in earlier. You saw rope and duct tape spill out from the opening. You stood there, trembling.
Or he thought you were trembling, at least.
He pulled out a polaroid camera.
“First…I need to take a few ‘before’ pictures for the good Sheriff…” he murmured. “Really tell the story, y’know”.
Fumbling with the camera meant he lost his hold on the gun for a second. Knowing you might not get another chance; you seized the opportunity.
It all happened in slow motion.
You leapt over towards him and grabbed the shotgun barrel with one hand, punching his head away with the other. He was stronger than you, but the shock had thrown him. He managed to yank the handle and the trigger and fired, but your grappling with the barrel meant the bullet fired into the ceiling. You screamed into his face as he tried to pump the gun and reload, but you continued to wrestle the barrel away. He grunted with surprise but quickly regained his composure as he went to his pocket, and you knew he must’ve had a handgun there, just like his friend did.
In the ensuing tussle the two of you fell to the ground. He was on top of you as he cursed at you and went purple with rage, but you screamed right back at him. He pulled the handgun from his pocket with his free hand, and you grabbed at his wrist, trying to push it away.
“I’m going to enjoy this, bitch” he hissed between a clenched jaw as he raised the gun.
You slammed your hand down as hard as you could into his windpipe and as he choked and spluttered you retrieved Lee’s knife from your brassiere. You pulled it from its sheath and plunged it deep into his neck, twisting it to ensure it took. With your free hand you smacked the gun from his grasp as he moved his fingers to the knife handle. His eyes went wide as he fell forward, and you used the opportunity to roll away from underneath him as he hit the living room carpet, then pulled the gun away and unloaded it. He watched you in disbelief as he bled, stunned at what had just unfolded. You’d seen that look on men before.
“Yeah. Not what you expected, huh?” you taunted.
Panting and rubbing your belly you wiped the sweat from your brow as you took a second to recover. Baby kicked back in silent reciprocation. You noticed the blood on your hands and ruined dress. Just then, the man began to groan. He slowly moved himself up to his knees and began to crawl slowly towards the door.
You were overcome with rage as you sat up and sped towards him. Before you knew it you had pulled the knife from his neck, causing him to collapse as the blood poured.
“Motherfucker…coming into MY HOME. Hurting MY BABY. MY HUSBAND…” you screamed, punctuating your words with vicious strikes into his back.
He groaned and wheezed and begged as you continued to stab him, your anger a red cloud whipping you into a frenzy you couldn’t control. All your pent-up rage about what they’d tried to do, how they’d threatened you and baby, and Lee. Nearly losing Lee. And every bit of anger you had held onto – the injustice of the world, the unfair start you’d had in it, everything you’d either lost or never had as your own in the first place. How hard it was to slip into the shoes of a normal person because you’d never truly had the opportunity to try. Honeybee wasn’t dead after all, she was right here, and she would never fully leave.
Finally, exhausted, you dropped the knife and slid onto your back, panting. You cringed at the sight of the living room, crimson and stained with death, worlds away from the classically curated yet cosy space it was just a few minutes before. You panted, and just laid there.
*
Lee pulled the cruiser into the driveway so fast he knocked the mailbox over, crumpling it beneath his front tyre. Neighbours peeked through the curtains in horror as the Sheriff jumped from his car and high-tailed it across his front yard, shouting his wife’s name. He kicked through the front door, his voice booming with both anger and panic.
“Lee?” you called out from the living room, snapped out of your haze.
“Honey…” he yelled as he soared towards you. His eyes bulged at the sight of Leroy’s back torn to ribbons.
You reached for him, and he grabbed you and pulled you close, holding you so tight it almost hurt. You gasped at his black eye and the bruises on his face as you traced them carefully with your finger.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he repeated in your ear like a prayer as he kissed your temple and kissed your face and tenderly held you.
“Are you alright? Is baby alright?” he asked desperately.
“It’s okay baby, it’s okay. We’re okay” you cooed against his forehead as you kissed him back.
You told him it was okay, and that you’d taken care of it. You told him he needed to stop the shady shit and he promised he would, and he swore on the baby’s life between peppering desperate kisses all over your face.
He took a second to go and tell the peering neighbours it was okay, to stay outside and asked them to call the station as his wife had been the victim of a home invasion. Then he came back and pulled you away from Leroy and into the kitchen where he kissed you long and he kissed you hard, feeling every inch of your body as if he couldn’t believe you were here.
“I’ve missed you Lee” you finally said.
“I’ve missed you too, Honey” he sighed. “I know I’ve been distant…I guess I’m scared”.
“I’m scared too, Lee” you sniffed. “I know I haven’t exactly been present either…this is a lot for me too. But don’t shut me out, okay? We need to do this together”.
He nodded.
“I’m gonna be better…I promise”.
He held a tentative hand out to your stomach, moving it slowly towards you. You took it and gently placed it on your belly. He gasped as his fingers made contact with the swell.
“Our little baby…in there” he smiled.
You smiled back. “Sure is”.
As if on cue, the baby kicked back against his hand, causing Lee to chuckle in disbelief. His eyes brimmed with tears as your heart sang, this was what you wanted. Finally.
“Strong little thing…just like mama” he laughed.
You grinned back. “And daddy”.
His expression darkened. “I’m sorry…you had to do that. Like this. And alone. It must’ve brought back some tough memories…”
You sighed. “It’s okay. They were bad guys. They were going to hurt me and baby. They’d hurt you. I did what I had to do. I know I said I’d never do it again…but I had to”.
He nodded again, his fingers stroking at the blood soaked into your dress. “I’ll fix it for ya Honey. Alright? Home invasion. Pregnant woman. Leroy and Bobo were known to be involved in organised crime, they put a hit out on the Sheriff’s wife. It’s open and shut. Don’t worry about none of it. I’ll clean it up good and you shouldn’t even need to go to court”.
He pondered for a second. “Gonna be tricky to explain the multiple stab wounds in the back though...”
“Pregnancy hormones” you giggled.
Lee rolled his eyes and laughed with you. “I told them they’d die in this house…They just didn’t expect it would be because of you”.
“Yeah…that was unlucky for them” you snorted.
You both just stood there for a little while, both grateful to have the privilege of being together in this moment in time.
“I’m sorry Lee…another mess of mine for you to clean up…”
“Oh Hell, I like cleaning up your messes. Keeps me busy, outta trouble…” he smiled.
He tenderly held your chin between his fingers and looked into your eyes.
“I can’t believe I nearly lost you” he said gravely, shaking his head.
“Well, you didn’”t.
“I know…but I coulda”.
“Lee…” you said softly. “It’s gonna take more than two thugs with guns to get rid of me, you know that…You’re stuck with me.”
You smiled at your joke, trying to lighten the mood, but he just looked sullen.
“Sometimes I worry…that I’ve put a bird in a cage, here” he told you, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “Maybe you’re stuck with me”.
“No…no. You saved me, Lee” you whispered. “I’m not a prisoner here. I’m your wife”.
He smiled. And you smiled. And you knew it would all be okay, now. You both found your way back to each other once more. You weren’t a caged bird at all, you were free. Truly free for the first time in your life.
“I love you, Honeybee”.
“I love you too, Sheriff Bodecker”.
THE END
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