#just gimme a lil something to work with
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claudiaeparvier · 2 years ago
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*slides a $100 bill to Rolin Jones* gimme at least one loustat love scene for season 2
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evansbby · 2 years ago
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https://at.tumblr.com/elegantiaaa/699488642516893696/qp9shtqrh0dj
THIS IS ARI WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK SOOOO HOT THAT IS ARI 100% Ari would do this ❤️😌
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tvrningout-a · 2 years ago
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guess who got a 90% on her english final B))) this gal!!! which means all i have left to do is slap a bibliography on my essay, which means!! i'm reblogging a meme as a treat bc i made it through another semester :' )))
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ink-n-shadow · 2 months ago
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i saw this post about types "talking you through your orgasms" and i had to discuss the types that the 141 men would be. i couldn't stop myself
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TALKING YOU THROUGH IT
𝜗𝜚 the one about how the CoD men talk you through your orgasms
𝜗𝜚 characters: john price, kyle "gaz" garrick, john "soap" mactavish, simon "ghost" riley (reader is gender neutral) 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), praise kink, dirty talk, slightly mean!simon, unedited 𝜗𝜚 a/n: lmk how we feel about the slightly different format (i'm still making edits but)
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john price is definitely cooing softly in your ear about just how pretty you look, just how sweet your hole looks stretched out on three of his thick fingers, just how beautiful you look with drool slicking down your chin and unshed tears clinging to your lashes. “fuck, jus’ look at ya, doll—so fuckin’ pretty all split open on my hand, yeah? no, don't close yer thighs when ya come—wanna see how pretty y'look when ya tighten up 'round my fingers." doesn’t stop praising you or blabbering on about how pretty you look even after his softening cock slips out from between your thighs, his spend tricking out of your used hole and your tearstained face hidden away in the crook of his neck.
kyle garrick is the giggling kind, nose buried deep in the hair at your temple and his lips curled up into a smarmy grin as the rough pads of his fingers glide across the slick, molten flesh of your arousal with practiced ease. "feels good, yeah? got your legs just right tremblin', 'nd I've barely even started, sweetheart. shhh, shhh—'m only teasin', baby. tell me how good it feels." and he's totally the type to make you keep talking as he bullies his fingers into your heat, stopping every single time your words jumble together and your whiny moans begin to overpower your coherence. "keep talkin'—y'don't want me to stop, do you? s'what i thought—go on, then. what were you saying about my fingers hitting something just right?"
johnny mactavish is the condescending kind, azure eyes focusing on the way your eyes slowly cross as another orgasm ravages your nerve-endings and makes a scoff fall from his lips. "again, birdie? dinnae think y'had it in ya—how many's tha'? three, right?" but he's not slowling the pace of his thick fingers as they continue practically carving out your insides, fingertips mashing against that one spot that had your brain melting out your ears and moans slipping off your tongue. even the kiss he leaves against your forehead seems condescending, a knowing grin on his face as he feels your gooey insides gripping onto his fingers tighter. "yeah, tha's right—gimme a fourth. y'can do it, birdie—then i'll fuck my cock into ya, i promise."
simon riley is the (sometimes, not all the time) degrading kind, honeyed eyes meeting yours in the mirror in front of your bed as he forces you to watch the way his fingers disappear between your slick thighs. "look at tha', pet—greedy fuckin' hole, innit? already got three fingers 'nd you're practically beggin' for more, huh?" you would've answered him if he hadn't have stuffed your underwear between your lips, your eyes fighting to stay opened as your toes begin curling in the impending crest of your high—only for simon to rip his fingers from your fluttering hole, instead shoving the lube-covered fingers into your mouth until his middle finger brushes the back of your throat and the underwear slips out amongst the gagging. "didn't say y'could cum, did i? no (shaking your head for you with his fingers still buried in the back of your throat), don't think i did. knew you were a greedy lil thing—c'mere, be a good pet and suck me off."
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©️ ink-n-shadow 2024
do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission
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byechristopher · 1 month ago
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(after) fights w/Chris.
-CHRIS STURNIOLO HEADCANONS.
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Author's note: I am kinda back? I guess. Anyways, you know how it goes, I love fluff, I love angst. I feel like Chris is a stubborn mf, so I've got a lot to write about him. BTW. Give me requests.
Warnings: niente.
Chris, being a stubborn lil' shit, would never admit he's in the wrong. Definitely not in the beginning.
He would shout and scream to get his point across, especially if he felt like he was being wrongly accused.
I feel like he's the type to "hold grudges" for quite some time, not because he doesn't want to speak to you, but because he wouldn't know how to start talking about it.
Even when you two are not talking to each other, he'd do something to get your attention without trying to seem desperate or clingy (even though he is).
He'd make you your favorite meal, leaving the plate right beside you and then leaving right away, "uhm. I made you this. You didn't eat today."
He would also do things without you noticing; like put a lil' snack in your bag before you go to work, or tuck you in while you're sleeping, or take a strand of hair that's bothering you, tucking it behind your ear.
He would never be the first one to talk about it. Though, once you say "hey, let's talk"; it's over. He'll be begging for your attention and/or forgiveness.
"You know you're like.. the love of my life, yeah? I never want to hurt you."
He'd get super soft and gentle with you after every fight.
Cuddles and soft kisses to make you feel better would be his way to show you how sorry he is.
"I'm stupid. I didn't mean to shout. I'm sorry."
"I will forgive you.
Gimme a hundred kisses right now."
"Say no more."
And he would do exactly that; he'd spoil you with kisses with every chance he gets.
I just love cuddly and soft Chris after a fight. I want to squeeze him.
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iplayghoul · 5 months ago
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𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞
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pairing:: onyankopon x reader
wc:: 2.6k
warnings:: umm starts off as soft sex, they get a lil crazy (my fault), tongue sucking, squirting, cunnilingus all that. nothing too crazy. using 'mama' and 'ma', reader has braids and acrylics.
note:: heyy.. how yall doin 😅 work below the cut.. dont beat my ass
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“You remind me of the sun, ony’,” you mumble, cheek pressed against his bare bicep with your head resting soft against the picnic blanket as you look up at the night sky. He's like the sun to you. “mm, yeah What– does that mean, pretty?” His voice is deep… just above a whisper and in your peripheral vision you see him looking at you but your eyes are fixated on the stars above. “I dunno, your skin is always so warm when I feel cold but– I gravitate towards you all the time. Like all the other stars do. You exude something… mmph, what m’ I saying rightnow.” You fumble, chuckling lightly at your lack of words.
“do you believe in destiny? like ‘written in the stars’ n’ shit? Hm?” Onyankopon speaks up, you feel an emotion behind his tone you can't quite describe. It sounded like… uncertainty, insecurity. “Well, you know how my exes were… I'd like to think those were just unfortunate circumstances that I'm tryna grow from, baby. I don't wanna think the universe puts us through that on purpose… y'know?” You sit up, pretty little night dress falling down to cover your thighs. Your hands holding you up as you look around the night sky. The full moon tonight facilitated an impromptu shoving of a picnic blanket onto the balcony, warm glasses of chai tea emptied and hot in your bellies as you laid together to watch the moon.
Onyankopon rests his head with his hands behind his head, admiring you. He clears his throat, “I love you. Y'know that?”, “I do know that, you know I love you too?” You look at him over your shoulder before turning over and pressing your palms onto his stomach, he groans in faux pain. “Mhm,” He purrs, sitting up to clasp your hands in his own, tugging you onto his lap. “I know that, mama,” the moon was so bright. It illuminated the darkness around you both on the balcony and glimmered in his eyes. You stare. His moistened lips glistening in the light, you scoot closer to him. Chest pressed against your breasts and he sits handsomely, basking in your gaze and touch. Pretty white french tip acrylic nails with bow decor caresses his neck, scratching the back his neck and playing with his ears. Ony’ shivers lightly.
“Why you touchin’ on me like that, hm?” He bites back a smile when u tug at his earlobe. “Gimme a kiss,” You murmur, lips sealed by the clasp of his against yours. He pecks your lips several more times, Onyankopon really liked the texture of your lip gloss on his lips. Hands drag down his chest, following the tiny lines of his wife-beater: twirling the drawstring of his sweats.
“Do you wanna–”
“No,” Your eyes meet his, and Ony’ watches you as kind as ever, with his stupid handsome face. “No, baby,” He kisses his teeth, “Not g'na fuck you out here. Not on the balcony,” his cheeks deepen with dimples as he offers you a low chuckle.
“‘M not asking you to fuck me.” You roll your eyes teasingly,”And what's wrong with out here . . . we got blankets and pillows, s'comfy baby,” He's offered a sweet smile, the lavender rubber bands on your braces reminded him of the colours of the night, so he looks up at the sky.
The moon colours dusted blue and purple hues onto the clouds that bordered it. Reflecting and sparkling in your eyes and your face. Shit . . .
“What I'm asking, is that you make love to me, Ony’,” You whisper, resting your head in his neck. Onyankopon sucks a deep breath in between his teeth. “Grab some f'them pillows.” He uttered.
Ony’ scoots forward, shamelessly staring at your ass as you bunched up the pillows scattered across the balcony and stuffing them behind where he previously sat, blankets included and teacups pushed far aside. “Lay back right there,” , “Mkay . . . ,” You whisper, eyes flickering to his position while he only eyes you, fixing your braids behind your ears and tucking yourself comfortably back into the mound of pillows and blankets. “Mhm, pull it up,” Onyankopon turned to you and gave your night dress a light tug, eyes still focused everywhere else but your own.
You shuffled, clutching the little thing up above your hips, pretty panties scrunched up between your legs . . . you wore some random ones with rainbows on it. “Take it off, ma’,” Onyankopon ordered, his mouth muffled by the hand on his chin, finger pressing into his lips while he watched you. Gingerly, you hook your acrylics beneath the band slipping the panties off. Flustered, your legs remained snapped shut, though your puffy cunt still pushed itself out, feeling tickled and tingly at the touch of the cold air. It was the type of wind that blew before a cozy storm. And you nibble on your bottom lip. Ony’ grabs your knees, prying them apart. He watched how the moonshine glistened against your pussy.
He pushed your legs back ‘till your knees brushed the blankets behind you, “Ony’ don't stare,” a grumble escaped you, body warm. He hummed. Leaning down, Ony’ spread your pussy further with his thumbs before offering your clit a kiss. You gasp softly, expecting the upcoming stimulation anxiously, wishing he could just skip this part n’ pull his dick out. You drop your head back into the pillows, eyes to the stars and moon when you feel Onyankopon's tongue swirl over your hole before dipping in gently. He likes to take his time. He does this a few more times and you whine, eyes falling shut when you feel him drag his tongue over your clit. Then, he's going in; he's licking up n’ down your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth n’ tugging it to let it snap back into your pussy. You moan freely, thick into the air. The clouds above moved with the wind and suddenly the moon sent glows onto your face, so much so that you opened your teary eyes to see what was so bright on your face.
Onyankopon groans vibrations into your pussy when he sees your face, overcome with pleasure under the moonshine. He dips his face into you, licking circles about your cunt, kissing and suckling, and spitting, and slipping his tongue deep in you. “Ony’, Ony’ c'mon,” You whine, hands dancing behind his neck, pushing his face deeper into your cunt when you feel your clit throb hard. He makes circles around your clit, kissing it and once sucking it into his mouth. “Right there, right there,” You ache when he tilts his head and tongues a spot of your clit and you start grinding your body into his face. He thinks he might suffocate in the best way possible. Little glossy pearls of tears glide down the sides of your cheeks and tickle your ear. Head pressing back into the pillows when the rest of your body arches forward to Ony's mouth. You spread your legs so wide and they stiffened, all you feel is his tongue around your clit now pushing out undisturbed by your folds and you grab your braids tight. He stuffs two fingers inside you while maintaining his motions on your clit, sloppily fucking them into you, twisting them with each stroke and you think your ears are actually ringing. With it, you let out a sob and squeal, “Fuck! Fuck, oh-my-god, Ony–,” then it was silence, “Breath, mama, breathe,” Ony groaned, and suddenly you were gasping for air, cumming hard.
Your lips were quivering, feeling somewhat numb while Ony’ offered you some slow calming strokes with his fingers as you mellowed down. “Shit, you still want s’m cock after that?” He gave your clit a final kiss, seeing your bleary eyes as you sniffle and sigh. Your legs ached when you tried to move, closing them slowly. “Gimme a minute,” you pout and flop your head back down into the pillows, collecting yourself a bit, eyes blinking wearily. “S’ sensitive, m’ sorry,” Ony’ only re-fluffs some of the blankets and pillows that were now pushed askew, lifting your lower body by your legs while he pushed them back beneath you.
“Chill out,” He whispered, shifting to lay beside you and look at the sky. “S’ finna rain soon,” He announced,”Mhm, yeah,” You push your legs out, throwing your arms above you for a big stretch, squeezing your thighs tight to block your exposed pussy from the cold air. “Want head?” you peep at Ony’ who rests his hands behind his head. He shakes his head ‘no’ and stretches. You observe him and openly stare at his hard dick printing out of his sweats. Leaning forward, you rub, ever so gently, along the shaft while he watched you.
“‘Kay, get over right here,” Ony’ sat up moving from his spot, gesturing for you to situate yourself there with a quickness and brushing your hand off him. You huff, teasing, and pull your night dress back down as you crawl on your hands and knees to the pillows. Lay on your back and braids adjusted, Ony grabs your night dress, tugging it back up your body and kissing his teeth. “Keep playin’,” He gives your ass a playful smack and you giggle.
Grabbing your ankles, Onyankopon pushes your legs all the way back. What you'd like to call, ‘knee headphones’ the way they were in line with your ears. Some traces of creamy white release cooled under the air, clit puffing out and hole aching to be stimulated again. Ony’ adjusts himself above you, leaning close and tugging his sweats down, letting his pretty, dark dick fall out and slap your thigh. Fuck, you might cry. Little beads of pre-cum dripped from the tip, he was already girthy, yet his cock got thicker and meatier towards the center of the shaft. “Y'gonna go slow?” Ony lines up, pressing his tip into you and smiles,”Yea, mama, i’mma go slow,” He sinks and drawls out a long, ”Fuck.”
His heavy hand grips your thighs, pressing you down into the pillows. Onyankopon adjusts himself over you, letting his weight hold you down while he all but throbs in you. Legs now thrown over his shoulders and dark brown eyes staring deep into your own, fighting your weighted eyelids. “Bet’ not run, ma',” Onyankopon observes your face, licking his lips and giving you a quick peck, he resists indulging you when you pout and instead kisses about your damp cheeks and neck. “Oh-my-god,” you squeal when he begins to lift his hips out of you.
Onyankopon's hands cage your head, and the closeness leaves you nowhere to grab; thus your hands are left to mindlessly flop back onto the pillows. Nice and easy . . . proper n’ slow, he begins to rock his hips into you, “Why you suckin’ me in like that, mama?” He groans low. Ony’ let's his forehead rest on yours while the tip of his dick nudges the spongy mound inside you. “Ony’ your fuckin’ dick,” you whimper, “W’ssup wit’ it, huh?”, Onyankopon pressed his lips to yours in a wet kiss, grinning when he sees your pretty little eyes welling with tears. “Deeper–,” a sniffle, “Want it– deeper, shiiiit,” And he gives you just that, digging his fat dick deeper with each antagonizing stroke. Your cleavage bounces beneath your chin with each thwack of his hips into yours, tits having been firmly mushed into Ony's chest and you feel like you're gaping. Thighs burning n’ cunt stretching as he slowly builds the well in your tummy to milk you. “Mhm, watchu’ wanted?” You only groan and bite your lips, eyes screwed shut as you lay limp on the pillows getting fucked. Onyankopon gives your cheek a few slaps, “Answer me ‘fore I stop, don't play,” You force your eyes open and see Ony's eyes locked on yours. Brows furrowed and mouth ajar, that pussy felt fuckin’ good. “Yea, s’ what I wanted– daddy, fuck,” You let out a bratty sob when sloppily fucks into you faster before slowing again.
“Stick y'tongue out,” Onyankopon hums lowly, and you're not sure if you can focus on anything besides the smack of his hips and the squelching coming from his cock. You still comply, tongue lolling out from your mouth with heavy breathes. Ony’s dick throbs inside you, and he slurps your tongue into his mouth, suckling on it before locking your lips to his, tongue massaging yours. “Takin’ that fuckin’ dick, mhm,” His lips glide over your cheeks, fucking into you with fervor. He mumbles a chant of, “Shit, shit, shit,” pummeling you with his cock, reaching depths in your cunt you hadn't even discovered before. Ony’ seemed determined on knocking the fucking wind out of you and stuffing your swollen, little pussy full of dick. “Oh–,” wails escaping your lips, “Ohmygod unh, f– daddy, fuck,” you continue to mewl.
Your hands frantically grasp any and everything, your braids, Onyankopon's back, your ankles, the pillows; entire body gyrating as he fucks you. Onyankopon tongues your neck, licking about your ear, kissing your cheek. Your cunt feels sticky, s’ sloppy and warm and your entire body feels hot all over. Your eyes roll back and he's got you so trapped under him getting pounded that you can't even arch up into him. Cunt remaining spread at just the right angle and makes your legs quiver. Onyankopon let's out a tight groan and you feel the curve of his cock digging you hard. “G'nna make me fuckin’ cum. Squeezin’ on me like that, mama.” His sharp words muttered right into the shell of your ear making you clench hard. “Mu'fuckin’, sloppy pussy,” He lifts off you and pushes your legs above your head, crossing your ankles as he holds them together for leverage.
“N– Oh, no,no,no, Onya–!” you uttered out with gasps at the new angle. “Take it, take it, take it,” Ony’ murmured. Just like that, warmth squirted out of your cunt, dripping down his abdominals and pooling right between you where the hilt of his cock slapped into your folds as he kept drilling himself into you. “Mmmmph,” You can't help but cry and moan, cheeks feeling a bit warm with embarrassment yet it's overcome by the exponential throbbing of your clit. Your hand started tapping the pillows, shaking as you tried to tap out of whatever Ony’ was serving you right now. “C'mon,” He whispered, “I gotchu’.” It's like he senses it, thumbing your clit lightly.
“Need it! Need– it, daddy, shit,” You peer up at him.
“I know you do, baby, give it to me,” His commands echoes in your head, over and over. You're gasping, body jiggling off the pillows and slapping back up into his, “‘M . . . fuck, daddy,” sobbing and failing at formulating your words.
“‘M cumming, I'm cumming, oh my god.”
Your hips stiffen up and with each pelting thrust Ony’ cussed above you; a harsh wind blows and you think the coldness against your hot body makes you gush all over his cock while he cums alot. You blink the tears out of your eyes when Onyankopon fucks your cum mixture back into you a couple more times, before pulling out quick to avoid you being too sore and pained for him to move then plopping beside you on the pillows. Your legs fall carelessly below and all you hear besides silence are his harsh breaths and his deep voice asking you something you can't yet register, your clits throbbing too hard.
The moon really did look pretty tonight. Onyankopon does remind you of the sun. Shit, you felt like you were sitting among the fuckin’ stars.
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macfrog · 1 year ago
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welcome home cowboy like me chapter five
he's back!!! and he's putting up DECORATIONS part v is yours, loves. if ya wanna read the first four (!! how did we get here) parts, you can check out my masterlist right here 😊 as always your support means the WORLD to me. i love talking with y'all & hearing your thoughts. lmk what we think of this one!!!
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel requests your help to decorate his house for sarah’s return…and a few other things, too
warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! the smut is smutting. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it the fuck UP), praise kink, lil bit of overstimulation, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), un poco consumption of alcohol, cursing, soft!joel at the end tbh i'm a sucker for him
word count: 5.4k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first. You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second? “I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”
The two front legs of your chair scrape against the wooden floor as you lift it to sit down. Your dad had an early finish today, so said he’d cook dinner. From scratch.
He’d refused your help when you offered to keep an eye on the chicken, was more offended when you said you’d cook the asparagus, and now, looking at your scrunched nose as you stare down at the lumpy mashed potatoes, looks just plain insulted.
“Sit, eat, don’t say a word.”
“I offered to help.”
His fork hits off the porcelain plate and he sighs. “I had a lot to tend to, alright?”
“Chicken, asparagus, and…mashed potatoes?” you say, dragging your fork through the mash – though it’s more lump than it is mash.
“Eat. It.”
You tuck in, ignoring the rattle of the table as you tug your knife back and forth to cut the chicken. Your dad’s face reddens as you chew your way through his meal.
“How was work?”
You throw your mouthful back your throat with a gulp and take a big swig of water. “Good,” you try not to choke out, “Sal let me go early ‘cause it was so quiet.”
“Yeah?”
You nod. “Bill was in lookin’ for screws or something. Was Anna who helped him–”
Your sentence is cut short by your dad’s ringtone, and he leans back in his chair to the sideboard behind to retrieve it.
“Yep?” he says, and you know who’s on the other end. Yep? means Joel. “Shoot, I forgot to ask her. Well, she’s right here, gimme a sec.”
He covers the bottom of his phone with his palm, and nods toward you.
“You alright to head over to Joel’s tonight ‘n help ‘im with the house for Sarah comin’ home?”
You narrow your eyes, head tilting. “What…?”
“He’s got some banner or something. Joel, what is it you got? Yeah, a banner. Decorations.”
He cocks an eyebrow and looks at you blankly.
You slowly nod, teeth pulling asparagus off your fork. “I can help.”
“She’ll be over in a bit, Joel. Alright. Alright. Bye, now.”
The phone is thrown onto the table with a clatter. Your dad silently resumes eating.
You clear your throat, trying to sound normal over something you feel very not normal about.
“You volunteerin’ me for things again? I thought we talked about this when you told Rita I’d fix up her flowerbeds for her.”
“Oh, we’re bringin’ up the past, are we?”
“Just sayin’,” you mutter, staring down at your lumpy potatoes.
“Wasn’t me, anyways. Joel asked for you specially this afternoon. Told him you were workin’, he said to ask you when you got back. Was his idea.”
Was it, now? That’s…interesting.
“What time’s he wanting me over?”
“Whenever. He’s in all night.”
Suddenly you’re not so hungry for overcooked chicken and not-mashed potatoes anymore.
You swallow down what you can – what’s edible, anyway – and head upstairs to get ready. Trying to act casual enough that your dad won’t sense your eagerness.
Sure, just grabbing my shoes. I just want the house to look nice for Sarah. It’s really her I’m thinking of. Okay, cool, see you, bye.
You throw a pair of sneakers on, check yourself once over in the mirror, and grab your keys.
“That was quick,” your dad remarks when you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s still powering through his asparagus.
“Just…wanna get it done. For Sarah, y’know.”
He nods. “You lookin’ forward to havin’ her back? Your ol’ pal?”
“Sure. Alright, I’m off. Don’t wait up.”
You practically throw yourself out the front door before he can get another word in, striding over to your car. You’re thankful when the late sun hits you to only be in sweat shorts and a vest top; it may be seven in the evening, but the heat is still stifling.
You pull up in Joel’s drive and climb out, giving the neighborhood a quick scan as you walk over to the front door, trying not to skip. Being handed an excuse to spend a few hours alone with him in an empty house feels like winning the lottery, you’re a little embarrassed to admit.
Joel’s in the living room laying out the decorations he’s bought when you walk in. He’s wearing a denim shirt and white Rangers tee underneath, his regular old jeans on the bottom.
His Hello is comprised of a glance up, a lift of his eyebrows, and a quick scan over your body as you approach. You take a deep breath to dissipate the bubbling feeling in your stomach.
“So, you asked for me specially, huh?”
He nods. “It was either you or your dad, and his ass ain’t as nice to look at as yours.”
“Oh, nice. Glad to be of service. Looks good,” you muse, nodding downward.
The supplies are sprawled out over the coffee table between you both. A huge banner folded up; the beginning of the word Welcome visible. A few packets of multi-colored streamers, balloons, and other gold and silver colored stuff lay around it.
“Probably won’t use it all,” Joel says, sniffing. “Just wanted to give her a big welcome home.”
“All my dad did was pick me up at the airport,” you scoff.
Joel looks up, misses a beat, then says, “Well, your welcome home gift is me.”
“Ha. Good one. C’mon. Let’s get started.”
You task Joel with blowing up balloons while you balance along the back of his couch to tape streamers to the top of the walls. It’s a struggle, though, since Joel keeps tying balloons and hitting them over to you, aiming for your head. He titters to himself when your hair begins to go static.
“That funny to you?” you yell, whacking the fifth balloon out of your face.
“Yeah,” he chuckles back. “You should see your hair, kid.”
By the time the streamers are suspended from the ceiling, dancing in the breeze from the open windows, Joel’s out of breath and sweating.
“Hard fuckin’ work,” he mutters, taking off his shirt. He throws it onto the couch without looking, but still, you suspect he knows exactly what you’ll do.
With a sideward glance to him, you lean back and fish it from the couch, throwing it over yourself. There’s something intoxicating about wearing his clothes, smelling him all over yourself, feeling the warmth from his body. Joel knows it. When he glances over at you to see his shirt hanging off your shoulders, he smirks.
“I think we deserve a break,” he says, eyes lingering.
When he makes off for the kitchen, you throw yourself down on his couch, head falling back against the soft cushions.
He returns with two beers, handing one down to you before laying back beside you. Your shoulders rub against one another as you both take a swig.
“Your dad really didn’t do nothin’? When you got home?”
“I guess you could say he did the barbecue,” you reply, shrugging.
“The neighborhood barbecue, that everyone takes a turn at hostin’? The same one he had you out buyin’ steaks and soda for, two hours before it started?”
“I don’t need a welcome home party. I am the welcome home party.” Your middle finger meets your thumb and you give your wrist a shake in the air, and Joel laughs.
“You deserve one.”
“You wanna throw me one?”
“Can do. If you want.”
You smile in response.
A few moments of silence pass. Comfortable silence. You lie, temple resting against Joel’s shoulder, listening to the trees in his back yard rustle, the birds singing. Peaceful, tranquil. Content.
You like talking with Joel. You like when he’s doing other stuff to you, sure, but you like just being around him. It’s different to spending time with anyone else his age. They all want to ask about your future, your career, are you dating anyone?
Joel just lets you be. Doesn’t push nothin’, doesn’t make you worry. Just wants to make you feel good.
Both mentally and physically, of course.
“Heard any more from Arthur Kennedy?” you ask, more just to hear his voice again than anything. You’re kinda worried he’s falling asleep over there.
Joel takes a deep breath, starts playing with the label on his beer bottle. “Nope,” he says, taking a quick sip, “and don’t wanna.”
“What is it with him, anyways? Why is he the way he is?”
“Just a dirtbag of a man. You get ‘em, y’know? Ain’t none of us really like him. I was pissed at your dad for askin’ him the other day.”
“What does he say at Frank’s? What kinda talk does he give?”
Joel shakes his head like he doesn’t even want to open his mouth. When you nudge him, he clears his throat and then speaks.
“Just all this, ‘I bagged this chick last week’, ‘I was messin’ ‘round with this little beauty’… ‘Tighter ‘n a’ this, ‘Wetter ‘n a’ that. We all know he’s just talkin’ load. The man’s too old to even get an erection anymore.”
You snort. “I bet I could run rings around ‘im, if I ever caught him talking like that.”
Joel half laughs, but it falls apart when his tone gets quietly serious again.
“Just…do me a favor, and stay away from him,” he says in a soft voice. “You’d have me up all night if I thought him ‘n his sleazy hands were anywhere near you.”
He turns his head to lean his jaw on your hair. You think over what he just said. The thought of Joel, awake all night with worry about some sleazeball being within a four-house radius of you makes your stomach flutter.
The idea of him being worried about you. The thought of what he’d do if he ever caught wind Arthur Kennedy had even so much as looked at you twice.
Before your stomach lurches out of your throat with the butterflies soaring around it, you decide to cut the moment short.
“Where’s the banner goin’?” You lean forward, placing your beer on the coffee table and taking hold of the sign.
“Was thinkin’ on that wall,” Joel nods to the wall across from the living room door, “so it’s the first thing she sees when she comes in.”
“Uhuh,” you reply, nodding.
“C’mere,” he says, standing up. “Climb on.”
“Climb on what?”
“My shoulders. I can’t reach all the way up there, what with the TV in the way and all.”
“You’re, like, six feet.”
“It’s a big banner,” he grumbles, kneeling to let you swing your legs over his shoulders. “C’mon. Up.”
“Pfft, okay, old man.”
“Old–? Did you just–? That’s not even funny.”
Joel straightens up and you clutch your stomach with laughter.
��Will you just get on, baby?”
“Alright, alright. Stay still.”
You carefully mount his shoulders and his steady hands wrap around your knees, holding you in place. You wobble as he straightens his legs, lifting you so high your head brushes off the ceiling.
“Alright, be careful. No sudden movements.”
“Right here?” you ask, positioning it.
“Little to the left,” he groans, craning his neck to see. “Right there, that’s it.”
You push the pin through the banner and into the wall, releasing your breath once it’s secured. Joel slowly shuffles over to the other side where you line it up and do the same there.
Once all four corners are in place, he steps back, your legs still wrapped over his neck, and you both admire your teamwork. Joel’s thumbs are gently rubbing your thighs.
“Looks good, huh?”
“Mhm,” you reply. “Anything else to go up?”
“Nah. That’ll do.”
“You just keepin’ me up here for company, then?” you ask, leaning over to look at his face.
He looks back up at you and snorts. “Sorry, darlin’.”
Joel slowly makes over to the couch and bends a little, letting you dismount him to stand on the leather cushion. You’re only slightly taller than him, even standing on his furniture.
He doesn’t take his eyes off you, scanning from your lips down to your chest, curtained by his shirt, then over your stomach and down your legs. You know that look. You’ve seen it enough by now. It means…
“What’s next?” you innocently ask, and his eyes snap back up to your face.
Instead of answering, he steps forward, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you against him. His chin tilts up and you smile as you dip your head, connecting your lips.
You immediately deepen the kiss, feeling Joel’s hunger, and satiating your own, too. Your arms drape over his shoulders, relaxing as his form holds you, allowing you to fold into him.
His arms take a grip of you as he bends at the waist, lowering you both down onto the couch, laughing against each other’s lips. He pulls your thighs apart to lean his hips between yours.
His hands begin exploring your body, feeling from your hips over your breasts, making you moan into the kiss, and settle on the collar of his shirt, pushing the sleeves down your shoulders to remove it. In return, your fingers find the hem of his tee and pull it up over his midriff, hunger growing with each hot second that passes.
He leans back, giving you room to whip the shirt over his head, before his naked torso is back on you. His fingers then dance along the waistband of your shorts, untying them whilst his other hand plays at the hem of your vest.
Your shorts lying loose on your hips, he peels your top off of your body, and your shoulders lift to let it over your head. Joel takes the opportunity while your back is off the couch to unclip your bra, throwing the article to the floor.
“Nice,” you whisper into his mouth, and he chuckles in response.
His bare chest, decorated lightly with dark brown hair, is against yours; his lips move to your neck, biting another mark into the sensitive skin. Your head tilts back and you let out a moan, wanting more, but Joel’s taking his time. He’s making every second count.
You buck your hips against his and he lifts his head, giving you a knowing smirk and obeying your silent request. He begins making his way down, not forgetting to stop off by your tits and run his tongue over your nipples.
Your hands find home in his hair and your back arches some as he caresses the hardened buds, lips forming an O shape to suck on one while tending to the other with his thumb and index finger.
When you whine and your hips lift a second time, he moves across your tummy and toward your lowering shorts.
Eyes glazed with lust, you watch as he yanks them down, your panties the only thing separating you from him now. You hear your shorts hit the floor when he drops them, and places a wet kiss over your clothed cunt.
“Joel,” you moan, head falling back against the cushion. He’s driving you fucking insane.
“Mhm,” he murmurs, kissing the insides of your thighs. “Tell me, baby, tell me what you want.”
You writhe under his touch; he’s so close, and yet so far.
“Your tongue,” you whimper.
“Huh? Can’t hear you over your moanin’, pretty girl.”
“Fuck– Need your fucking tongue,” you say as clearly as you can, still whining some.
“Good girl.”
He uncovers your soaking cunt and tears – literally, tears – your panties off of your body, balling them up in a tight fist. You gasp, both delighted and relieved, watching him discard the ripped fabric by his side.
Neither of you give a fuck. You’re desperate to feel each other, be on each other, be in each other.
He dips his head to your sex, and drags a long stripe up to your clit, collecting your juices on his tongue as he does. His tongue runs between your folds, swirling around, licking and threatening to dip further, before he lifts away again.
You let out a long moan, hands still tugging at his hair, attempting to push his head harder on your pussy. He doesn’t budge.
“Patience, baby,” he’s whispering, lowering his chin again to place his soft lips against your swollen clit.
He knows what he’s fucking doing – teasing you and making you wait like this. He wants it to build, really build, before you cum. He’s not cutting any corners.
His lips center over your bud, tongue tapping against it as he sucks, and brings his fingers up to sift through your folds. Your cunt aches for him; your hips find rhythm against his mouth as you fuck yourself off of him, and he lets you.
Feeling how wet you are, he plunges two long, curved fingers into your pussy, and your back, sticky with sweat, peels off of the couch for the second time.
“Fuck, Joel,” you gasp, feeling the stretch of his fingers inside you.
He hums against you, the vibrations of his deep voice pleasuring you more. He’s loving it as much as you are; tasting you, hearing you, breathing all of it in like it’s fresh air to his lungs.
Your breathing begins to falter, your chest rising and falling, your entire body ignited by his touch. You’re panting his name over and over, whining every time his fingers hit the spongey walls of your cunt.
He’s so fucking good at this.
He removes his fingers and replaces them with his lips, mouth planted firmly against your pussy. You widen your legs and he pushes down on your thighs, keeping them apart to make room for his jaw against your core, tongue licking between your folds again.
“Tongue,” you remind him.
“I hear ya,” he mumbles, and opens his lips.
His wet tongue slips into your cunt like it’s made to be there. You screw your eyes shut, pushing your upper back into the couch to lift your ass to him. His top lip cups around your clit as he eats you out, moans strumming against your sex, tongue exploring your wet hole.
“I’m close,” you whisper, and he removes his lips for two seconds to tell you to “Keep goin’, baby.”
“Doin’ so well for me,” he laps at your juices, “taste so fucking good, beautiful.”
He inserts his fingers again to bring you nearer your climax, and your mind starts to blank. You know what’s coming.
You can’t even form the shape of his name with your mouth as you draw nearer and nearer to your high; all you can focus on is the feeling of his hand fucking you, pumping in and out of your tight pussy, the way his tongue soaks your clit, the rutting of your hips all over his face.
It’s so fucking filthy, and so fucking good.
When Joel’s voice breaks through the fog in your brain, telling you to “Let go, baby, I’m here,” you obey him.
The edges of the room start to bleed white as your body lifts, fingers gripping onto Joel’s hair, hips digging further into the cushion.
It’s only ten o’clock; for all you know, Joel’s neighbors might be out in their backyard enjoying the warm night breeze. Do you care? Fuck no. You cry his name loud enough that the whole street might hear.
He coaxes you through it, drinking in your orgasm, moaning when your walls lock around his fingers and you cover his tongue in your sweet wet.
He slips his soaked fingers from your core and you whine at the loss; Joel makes up for it by gently massaging your aching clit as you come down, spreading your cum all over you.
“That’s it, baby, did so good. That felt good, huh?”
Still coming to, you don’t reply; you feel his weight back on top of yours, his safe arms wrapping around your shoulders.
“’s okay, darlin’,” he coos as your sight starts to return. He peppers your neck with gentle, wet kisses, bringing you back to earth.
Before even you realize it, your fingers are grasping at his jeans, blindly trying to undo the button and zipper. Joel laughs, lifting his hips to give you better access.
You giggle, loosening them and hauling them past his hips, and he sits up to drag them down his legs and shove them off near your shorts.
“What now, sweet girl?”
Your voice is low, serious. Barely above a whisper.
“Fuck me.”
He almost looks taken aback. As if he never thought he’d hear those words escape your lips. Like he’d been pushing you, further and further, expecting you to always hold back, always bounce back from the edge.
And here you are, clutching his arms and hauling him over with you.
It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first.
You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second?
“I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”
Joel’s eyes darken just as his huge cock bounces free from his underwear.
He’s watching your lips breathe out the words like it’s all he ever wanted to hear, all he’s thought about since that first night with your hands on his thighs, looking up at him so innocently.
Just waiting to be fucking ruined by him.
You slur the words again. “F-fuck me.”
“Yeah? ‘s that what you want?”
“Mhm.”
He’s kneeling over you now, helping you tug the underwear down his legs, precum-coated tip of his cock drawing circles on your stomach.
When he’s fully naked, he presses his body against yours, speaking to you between hot, wet kisses.
“You sure you can take it, pretty girl?”
“I’m sure,” you reply, lust taking over any remnants of your orgasm. Just fucking fuck me.
Joel’s hips raise, and he looks down to guide his cock to your hole. You bring your knees up, positioning them just under his biceps.
“Good,” he mumbles under his breath.
You’re so wet that when he runs his shaft through your folds, slicking himself up, his tip kisses the entrance of your cunt, drawing a gasp from you and a growl from Joel. You’re desperate for him to just slide in, make himself at home where he belongs, between your hips.
And when he does, it’s fucking euphoric.
He’s big. You knew this already. But feeling him inside you is different.
He pushes in halfway first, letting you get used to him.
“Okay?” he asks quietly.
You nod; your voice catches in your throat as he falls out of you, just to thrust in again and let his cock dive through your soaked, swollen folds straight into your warm cunt.
He’s so big that when he bottoms out inside you for the first time, your mouth falls open wordlessly, and your brain shuts down for a few minutes. Nothing but the feeling of him slipping in and out of your cunt slowly, fucking you dumb.
When he knows you can take him, he picks up the pace, dragging his hips back and forth against yours, filling you up until his tip kisses the edge of your cervix, and pulling out until he’s between your folds again.
You’re holding onto his shoulders like you’re hanging off a cliff edge. The feeling of his hot skin under your arms is the only thing keeping you grounded right now; the pressure between your legs with each thrust of his huge cock threatening to pull you off the edge of the abyss.
When his voice breathes in your ear between his groans, you snap back to reality. Thighs burning, nails scratching, pussy throbbing reality.
“You okay, baby?”
“Mhm.”
“Let me hear you, pretty girl, tell me how good it feels.”
He’s going faster still, balls smacking against your ass every time he bottoms out, sighs and whimpers passing your lips.
You whine his name, telling him, “Harder,” and he obliges, hips snapping ever stronger. His pubic bone grinds against your clit as he thrusts, the pressure spreading spots of pure bliss across your vision.
You look down to where your bodies connect, mesmerized by the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you. It turns you on even more.
“We look good, huh?” his voice lulls from above, and you look back up to find him watching you.
He dips his head and kisses you, and you start to near your second high.
“Joel,” you mewl, the feeling so good you can’t even form the words to tell him.
He knows, anyway.
“So good, baby,” he’s panting, sweaty forehead leaning against yours, “gonna cum all over me again?”
You nod, eyes screwing shut. He’s fucking you so good you’re barely remembering to breathe.
“Let go, darlin’, let me hear you,” he whispers, and you fold.
Joel bites into the crook of your neck and lets out a loud groan as he feels your pussy clamp around him. He fucks you through it, only slowing for a few seconds to let it wash over you, then picks the pace straight back up when you quieten and your breathing calms.
You’re so fucking overstimulated, but he’s not done, and you know what he wants. You want something, too. Maybe you two could work together.
“Joel?”
“Mhm?” He’s gone quiet, chasing his own high. You hear his breathing stammer when you say it.
“Want you to do it from behind.”
“Beh–” He’s almost gasping for breath, but when he understands what you mean, he wastes no time.
Wordlessly, he loosens his grip on you and pushes himself up, dick slipping out. You moan at the feeling of emptiness as it pulls out of you.
He gives you space to turn over, helping you move further up the couch with steady hands on your hips. When you settle, he lifts your ass up.
“Not gonna last long, baby,” he tells you, and you nod. Your right ear lies flat, sweat sticking you to the leather, hands splayed out above your head gripping the cushions.
You feel him line up again, his thighs against yours. Your breathing jilts as his head pushes in, followed by his shaft, filling you up, deeper and deeper until his balls kiss your clit.
You let a deep moan pass your lips. Joel groans, hips leaving your ass, only to smack into them again as he fucks you even deeper from this position.
He’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, cock spearing into you, tears swelling across your half-shut eyes. The feeling, the pain, too good to ask him to stop, but so overwhelming you can feel every thought, every instinct, every other feeling, leave your body with every thrust.
Joel’s all you know. He’s all you want to know.
Your legs start to give, and he places his rough hands on your waist to hold you up, pumping in and out of you at a punishing pace.
“Joel…” you whine.
“I know, baby, I know. I’m there, too.”
You feel his weight pushing on the back of your thighs and open your eyes to see him leaning over you, hands placed either side of your head. You lace your fingers with his and let him fuck you, totally mindless to everything around you except for the man at your ass, pummeling his dick inside you so deep your cunt is aching.
It pushes you over the edge.
Your walls squeeze his dick, threatening to pull him over with you. Your vision blanks for the third time tonight; what energy you have left is poured into the filthy cry which escapes your lips as Joel’s hard cock splits you open.
“So tight, baby, good fuckin’ girl.”
Joel begins to falter, his thrusts become sloppy, and he pushes your ass off of him so not to finish inside you. You kinda feel disappointed, wishing he’d just stay inside and fill you to the brim with his cum.
Joel gives himself a couple more strokes before you feel his seed coat your ass, warm, dripping down the small of your back and the underside of your thighs.
You moan at the feeling of him spilling all over you, the grunts he lets slip as his orgasm washes over him. You smile dumbly at the thought that you’re the one doing this to him; you’re the one covered in his cum. You’re his, even if it’s only in this moment.
He’s panting behind you. He almost collapses on top of your back, propping himself on his elbows to keep some of his weight off.
He gently leans down and nuzzles his nose against your ear, eliciting a quiet giggle from you.
“You okay?” he breathes.
You nod. “Better than okay.”
“You sore?”
“A little.”
“Baby…” he coos, and pushes himself up.
You sigh as his weight leaves you, and you hear his footsteps pad into the kitchen. You stay put, in part to keep from staining Joel’s couch with…well, Joel, but mostly because you’re too fucked-out to even move. Too fucked to feel your thighs, your back, never mind between your legs.
Joel returns with paper towel, and softly wipes from your back to your thighs, cleaning up his mess. He massages your muscles as he goes, and your eyes shut over with the sweet feeling.
When he’s done, he rolls you over and takes hold of your ankle, pulling you down the leather to his grasp, where he puts his tee over your head and helps you feed your arms through the sleeves. The Rangers logo sits just below your chest.
He pulls his boxers back on, before taking your outstretched arms and scooping you up in his. Your head falls limp in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.
He carries you, completely dazed and fucked, out of the living room and upstairs. He makes a right at the top, down the dim hallway, past the same closet he went down on you in just two days ago, toward a door at the end. He knocks it open and takes you through.
Even in your half-sleeping state, you know exactly where you are. You’re in Joel’s bedroom.
You’ve been in here before, maybe only a couple times, when Sarah’s needed something or you’ve accompanied your dad to help repair something for Joel, but it feels different now.
It’s dark, the sun almost set on the other side of the house and the streetlights’ glow a burning orange right above Joel’s headboard.
He carries you over to the left side of the bed and lays you down in his soft sheets. He tucks you under the comforter and bends to place a long, tender kiss on top of your head.
You begin to swim in and out of sleep, waking to find him folding your clothes into a neat pile by the bedside, then again to watch him set a glass of water on the nightstand.
Your eyes are glued shut with exhaustion when you feel him lift the duvet behind you and slip in, taking your waist under his forearm and pulling you flush against his frame.
You listen to the faint sound of a cell phone dialing, and then hear his voice; soft, hushed, but still normal Joel.
“Hey, man. Yeah, no, everything’s fine. We were pretty late finishin’ up with these decorations, and then The Shining was on TV, so we stayed up to watch it. She’s pretty exhausted. I let her take Sarah’s room, I hope that’s okay?”
Your dad’s voice is faint down the line as you begin to drop off in Joel’s arms.
“Sure thing, thanks, Joel. You kick her out first thing, you hear? Don’t want her holdin’ you up for gettin’ Sarah.”
When you hear him slide his cell back onto his nightstand, you mumble something incoherent into his arm.
“What, darlin’?” Joel asks, head lifting to hear you better.
“I said, great welcome home party. Thanks.”
His lips press lightly on your shoulder, his breath hot on your skin. Whatever it is he says, you don’t hear it, already long gone to a deep, comfortable sleep.
----------
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whore4abby · 1 year ago
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heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker
what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)
i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts
ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it
high fashion;
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kinda a part two of this !!
warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni
wc; 1.7k
“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.
“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.
you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.
she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.
before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.
the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.
you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.
“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.
“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.
“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.
he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”
you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”
you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.
her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.
you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.
he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”
he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.
abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”
you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”
“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.
abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.
abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.
she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.
you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.
you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”
she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”
you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.
you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.
she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.
she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.
you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.
she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.
“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.
she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.
she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.
you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.
an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!
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thecapricunt1616 · 6 months ago
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Hello all I’m still working on my requests daddy Carmy has just been taking over my fucking brain.
I’ve been seeing the trend on tik tok of wives asking their husbands questions about their babies it just got me thinking how Carmy would KILL this challenge and he would be super proud of himself because he’s so competitive I think it would go something like (Drabble below)
You walk out onto the patio of your gorge house where he’s in sexy daddy mode cooking breakfast on the little black stone grill while he drinks his coffee and you’re like -
“Babe I saw this video about this dad he didn’t know anything about his baby but I know you know cause you’re an awesome dad can we show the people what a good dad you are?”
and ofc he gets all blushy and is like “I’m not a good dad because I know stuff about my kid but I love talkin’ bout’ em so you can ask me questions sure.”
So you start off easy “What kind of formula do we use for cub when I’m taking a break?”
He answers straight away “Yellow one Enfamil neuropro I’m like 99% sure it’s in a yellow container”
“Correct and how many naps does he take a day?” You ask and He chuckles
“Uhm well when he’s bein’ good he’ll take 2 er 3 even if he’s doin’ a lot ‘er he’s sick, but we can usually only get one outta him.” He said while shaping the pancake batter into little Mickey Mouse shapes
“He gets being a bad sleeper from his dad, and what time does he usually nap?”
“Ye’ but he gets the attitude from you. We try gettin’ ‘em down at 12:30ish 1 but he usually fights us and he doesn’t go down until 2” he teased
“What brand and size diaper do we use?” You panned the camera down as he sprinkled blueberries on top of the batter
“Huggies - you like the snug and dry ones - he likes the snug and dry ones cause the box has Mickey on it- and he’s size 4 I think - ye’ 4 now cause the 3’s were lookin uncomfortable - are you filming my hands?”
You laughed, blushing a bit having been caught “sorry you have nice hands, how does he like to be held?” You moved the camera back up
“Uhhh depends? Is he tired is he upset is heee-“ he questioned
“Mm puttin him down f’bed” you said
“Ohh lil’ man likes the football hold” he demonstrates “likes to be all curled up here in my arm like a football and I’ll give ‘em his bottle. But w’you he wants t’fall asleep eating” he said and you smiled big at how attentive he was
“You got an A, I knew you would” you said and he grinned proudly
“That was it? Cmon! Those are easy gimme harder questions then that!” He chuckled
“Hmmm… alright-“ you think for a moment “oh! What’s his favorite movie”
“Monsters inc and monsters university” he said without missing a beat “he goes nuts he loves it he makes us do scary feet with ‘em” he laughs a bit at the thought
“Also correct, what abouttt…his favorite-“ he cuts you off
“Animal? A Bear” he smirks and you both laugh
“Okay what makes him laugh every time?” You asked
“Ohhh hmmmm…” he thinks with a big grin “well there’s a lot- oh well I’m gonna get you that always makes him crack up, also coughin’ if anyone coughs kid is done for” you giggle
“Which is why he is always wakin’ up laughin’ when you cough up a lung in the middle of the night after coming in after a cigarette” you teased and he laughed a bit
“Id rather him wake up laughin’ then cryin it’s easier to go in there and read to em till he falls asleep” he said
“Oh! That’s a good one- what’s his favorite book?” You ask
“Brown bear brown bear what do you see” he smiled “or Goldie locks, but he likes it better when you read that one to him” he said and you heard him squealing over in his playpen happily
“See he agrees doncha little bear?” He coo’d adorably over at him as he bounced up and down
“Dada dada dada dada” he babbled happily and lifted his arms, golden curls like Carmys of course falling over his forehead.
Of course carmen couldn’t deny his little guy so he walked over, picking him up and holding him on his hip and came over to resume cooking
“ you win this challenge bear you crushed it” you told him and your son is just so smitten and happy, cuddling up to Carmy and sucking on his pacifier contently
You post the video ofc it goes viral bc he’s Carmen but also becomes dilf of the year all the ladies in the comments simping over his sexy muscley arms and his tattoos and his ability to hold a baby and flip pancakes at the same time, everyone’s heart melting at the end of the video when your son pointed at the pancakes and went “mi-tee” and Carmy smiling telling him “you’re right cub! Such a smart little man. That’s Mickey Mouse. We gonna watch Mickey house while we have breakfast mm? With mommy?”
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buckybabieboy · 1 year ago
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Heyy! I was reading you work, which I love btw, and I wanted to request a one-shot or blurb for little!bucky accidentally getting drunk, like how would he act, what would he say. I feel like he’d be super clingy and needy. With cg!mommy!reader please 🥹 Love you writing <333
Lol this is gonna be the cutest thing ever😭. Thanks for the request Babie!
Tipsy Baby.
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☁️ Summary: Bucky has way too much to drink at Natasha’s party, leaving you to take care of your little boy.
⚠️TW(READ.): sub!touch-starved bucky, dom!fem!reader, Bucky is so touch starved😭, reader is able to carry bucky, lactation kink cuz I felt like it, mentions of alcohol, Bucky can get drunk if he drinks an abundance.
📝A/N(PLEASE READ): DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE. ITS THAT SIMPLE. DON’T REPORT MY WORK JUST BC YOU DONT LIKE IT. Anyways, pls enjoy this lil blurb! drunk Bucky is just the cutest 🥰. and your right, bucky is VERY clingy AND FUCKING TOUCH STARVEDDDD when he’s drunk.
“Mommyyyy!” Bucky slurs out as he dramatically falls in front of you on the compound’s floor.
“Mommy pay ‘tenttion to me!”
You peer over your phone and watch as your baby heaves and pants on the ground, his beautiful pale skin flushed with pinkish-reddish tones, and his big puppy dog eyes red and puffed.
“Baby, are you drunk?” You question him, though you already know the answer. He only whines and thrashes his limbs around in a hissy fit, not using his words.
“W-why are you so faaarrr?” He wails petulantly, completely ignoring your question.
“M’ not far, sweetheart, ‘m right in front of you.”
An empty bottle of Tiger Beer has accompanied him on the ground, clutched inside his sweaty palms.
“Gimme that!” You sigh before getting off of your comfy spot on the couch and snatching the bottle out of his hands. He whines even more.
“Who let you have this?”
Bucky pouts and mutters something, but it’s almost impossible to hear with the music and noise that flood throughout the compound.
“Can’t hear you bud, you’re gonna have to speak up f’me, okay?”
“T-tasha…” He hiccups. “N-Natasha lemme have some, mommy…”
Another exasperated sigh escapes from you as you begin to regret supporting Bucky’s idea to come to Natasha’s party. It didn’t really surprise you though, since he was always a party guy when he was younger. You rarely ever drank, especially when you were going to an event. You opted out of that a long time when the both of you got drunk, which you both know didn’t end well.
Natasha had invited everyone to her floor for a party. You weren’t too fond of the idea when you heard there was going to be alcohol, but Bucky was very excited and begged you to go. He assured you that Steve and Sam would be there to watch him.
So eventually you gave in, but not before making him promise that he wouldn’t drink.
When you arrived at the party, Bucky was acting more than normal. He immediately started chatting and playing party games with Wanda and Vision. He even played Twister with them, which you knew was a surprise to everyone. Despite the fact that loud noises triggered him, he seemed to be having a good time. Needless to say, you felt comfortable with letting him go off on his own for awhile.
Scanning the room, you spot Natasha by the fridge, a Tiger Beer in hand. The trash can next to her was filled with empty bottles of that stuff, and you knew they had to be Bucky’s. He couldn’t get drunk easily so it would take a copious amount of alcohol to get him drunk.
The blame wasn’t all on Natasha, though. Wanda, Vision, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all were made aware of Bucky and his little space—you’ve told them a numerous amount of times for his safety. So Natasha could’ve given him a bottle, but Bucky must’ve gotten his hands on this much alcohol all by himself.
You’d have to talk to them about that another day though, because right now, your little boy was cemented on the cold floor, spacey and dazed below you.
“S-so pretty. Mommy so pretty!” Bucky giggles, his head cocked to the side in awe as he gazes up at you. He wasn’t thinking about anything else. He literally couldn’t. His little brain couldn’t process anything while in little space, so him being drunk definitely amplified it X10.
“C’mon, baby boy. Let’s get you taken care of.”
You offer your hand to him. He doesn’t budge though, instead he whines, and mutters more incoherent sentences. This wasn’t the first time Bucky lost all of his words. When he was little, most of the time he would gesticulate instead of speaking up.
“Hmm…” You tap your index finger on your chin, prenteding to brainstorm. “Oh! I know what you want! You want uppies!”
Bucky nods and squeals, making grabby hands up at you. You place your hands under his arms, pick him up, and set him on your hip. A precious little noise escapes from him as he wraps his legs around your waist, his arms around your neck, and leans into your touch. The smell of your hair seemed to be the only thing he was able to process.
Once you make it to your floor, you set him down on the bed. He whines once again when you leave and you quickly shush him, reassuring him that you’re just getting his pj’s out for bed. Bucky stands up to take off his pants but stumbles and trips, landing face down on the floor.
“Hnnngh..” He whines, starting to pick up his thrashing and wailing from earlier.
“Hush, my little boy, let Mommy take care of you.”
“M’ dizzy…” He fusses. “Everything’s spinning…”
“I know baby, I know. Let’s get you in your PJ’s, okay?” You hush him a little bit before helping him off the ground and settting him back on the bed. It was a struggle, but you got his pants and shirt off. Now the task was to replace them with his nighttime ones. You take one leg of the pants, grab his leg, and slide it in.
“Good job, Jamie! Now your right leg!” You praise your little boy. He giggles when his pants are all the way on, and doesn’t even fuss when you put his shirt on for him.
“Perfect… now let Mommy get changed and then we can go sleepies, okay?”
He fussed, but you got changed in no time, and his fussing quickly became coos of happiness once you cradled him in your arms.
“My little baby.” You fawn. “Your mommy’s boy aren’t you?”
Bucky’s eyes flutter, as he tries to stay awake. His baby blues are glossy and clouded from the substance earlier.
“Mmm… uh-huh! M’mommy’s boy! Mommy’s goodest boy!”
“Yeah, except for earlier. What did I tell you about drinking that much alcohol? You know your little mind can’t take it.” You scold, and he pouts up at you.
“Sammy was watchin’ me! But then he drank some too, ‘n we-” His hiccups interrupts him.
“W-we made a stupid bet. Who could drink the mostest, ‘n I won.” He giggles at that last part, obviously proud of himself for beating Sam at literally anything.
You were about to respond when you noticed his eyes flutter. His metal fingers tug on your tank top—you already know what that means by now.
“Awh my baby’s hungry! You hungry, sweetheart?” You coo at him in the softest tone possible. He does nothing but nod, his words are becoming little to none—indicating that he was deep in.
“Go ahead, Jamie. You can have some, mommy doesn’t mind.”
You help him out a bit by tugging down the top yourself, your leaking tits out for Bucky to suckle on. He wastes no time, immediately latching his pink lips on your right nipple. His suckles were harsh and rapid. All he wanted right now was to taste your sweet nectar. A few strokes to the scalp and he’s almost out—his stamina completely gone from earlier.
You praise your little baby. Whispering to him all of the things he loved to hear. Calling him all of the names he loved to be called while in his little space.
The meekest whines and whimpers come from him as he suckled more frantically. As time went on he became frustrated—frustrated at the fact that he was too exhausted to keep going.
“Shh, it’s okay. I know… your so exhausted, hm? So exhausted from having so much fun earlier?”
You stroke his scalp with your fingers, keeping the movements slight and slow for him. Bucky could never describe it, but there was always a certain tactic, or pattern in which you’d scratch his scalp that made him feel so innocent. So vulnerable.
You know this, You know what touching Bucky’s hair does to him, what it does to him when he’s completely reliant and under your control.
“I’ve got you, Bucky Bear. Hush now.”
Bucky eventually quiets down, and so do his suckles on your nipple. He lets your nipple fall free from his mouth, some milk dripping down his parted lips. You wipe it off gently.
“Mommy m-mines?” He whimpers. “All mines?” He nuzzles himself into your chest, the warmth of your body and vibration of your voice as you cooed to him always calms him down.
“All yours, honey.”
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mechdyke · 3 months ago
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Rodimus X human!Reader - One-on-one time
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WARNINGS: WATERSPORTS, under-negotiated kink, very mild non-con if you squint, AFAB reader but no gendered pronouns
Note: I'm imagining the reader to be about the size of a large doll. about 35cm/14” if compared to a human? That's how big the porcelain doll I used to work out positioning is lol
this is... the first fanfic ive finished and posted in probably close to 7 years. and its piss. its just lovingly written piss. whatever man. if anyone has any advice or notes pls lmk! i still feel like its a bit poorly written and awkward.
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Getting the lap dog treatment from Rodimus was something you were used to by now. Your soft body being held tightly against hard abdominal plating, digits caressing your head and patting your hair, toying gently with soft strands in an affectionate way. Could it get uncomfortable? Sure. But the gentle rumbling of an engine and the slight warmth of metal armour up against your back was surprisingly comforting, despite the lack of padding.
After a good couple of hours of sitting in his lap, the familiar feeling of the need to pee started to build up in your abdomen. The tickling sensation coupled with the way Rodimus' servo was gently pressing against your stomach was already becoming a bit too much to handle. You took in a breath, trying to calm your body as much as possible before you spoke up. "Hey, Rodimus? Gonna need you to let me up real quick." You spoke as calmly as possible, trying not to alert him to your growing discomfort.
"Huh? What? Why? I thought we had something good going here. Just you and me, havin' a lil one on one time." Rodimus joked, squeezing you just a little more firmly against him. You sucked in a breath at the pressure, his servo pressing right against your bladder. You needed to get up ASAP.
"Roddy as much as I love you and your attempts at humour..." You smiled as casually as you could, feeling your crotch tingle ever so slightly, "I'm serious, I really gotta head to the bathroom." You looked up into his optics, meeting his gaze. He paused for a minute, his digits going still against you. The datapad he was trying, and failing miserably, at reading through nearly fell from his servo. You swore you could see his spoiler wings twitch, his vents cycling just a little warmer.
"Uh-huh! Just gimme a bit and I'll carry ya to the washracks. Really gotta finish reading and signing this or Ultra Magnus will get on my aft again." Rodimus finally replied after an awkward moment of silence, his voice slightly strained. You sighed, and relented quickly with a nod. The quicker you agreed, the quicker he'd finish doing his thing. Plus, at this point, the long trek to the washracks might be your downfall. And you really didn't wanna wet yourself on the way there. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on anything but the feeling of needing to pee. The sound of Rodimus' digits tapping at the datapad. The thud of bots walking through distant corridors. The slight smell of gasoline and burnt rubber. The feeling of his servo pressing-
"Can't you finish when we get back? I'll only be a couple of minutes- or uh- kliks I promise." You huffed desperately, your voice uncharacteristically shaky. Your thighs were squeezing together, and you were squirming even more. If his servo wasn't wrapped around you you'd have run off by now. You lean your head back against him, breathing rather heavily. He glances down at your flushed face, small organic body squirming against his large metal frame, and the look of pure desperation on your face. His fans click on.
You feel your cheeks heat up slightly at the sound. "Rodimus...?" Your need to pee is almost entirely forgotten for a moment as you stare up into his optics. A moment passes where you're both silent. "Rodimus are you getting off on this?" You ask rather bluntly, eyes not leaving his optics. Energon rushes to his cheeks, and he scoffs in denial.
"What? Of course not! Who'd get all charged up to the idea of a cute little squishy organic sitting on their lap, squirming against their panel and making cute little whimpers? Not me. That's for sure." Rodimus scoffs again, flush deepening as he realises he's just dug himself into an even deeper hole. An embarrassed staticky noise escapes his vocaliser, and he squeezes you around the abdomen again, unconsciously. "Alright fine, maybe. Don't be mad?" He sighs, scratching the back of his helm.
"Look, I'm not mad but-" You snap back to the reality of the situation as your crotch throbs almost painfully, his servo pressing against you reminding you of the heavy feeling in your bladder. You let out a groan, resting your head against his abdominal plating. "I'm going to piss myself if you keep pressing against me like that..." You mumble, arousal pooling in your lower stomach. You grind against him slightly in a mix of desperation and arousal. Rodimus' fans start spinning even faster, the warmth of his plating almost hot enough to burn your skin. He has to manually override a command to open his panel, the arousal starting to cloud his processor.
"Let me... help you with that..." Are the next words that escape Rodimus' voice box. Before you can ask what he means, a large metal hand is caressing your crotch gently, curiously. Your mind is slightly hazy, the tension thick in the air. You don't respond verbally, instead fumbling with the button to your pants and pulling them off with a slight struggle. Your underwear were damp, the slightest tinge of ammonia hitting his olfactory sensors. He dismissed another command prompt.
Digits trace against your covered crotch before pulling your underwear down, your breath hitching in your throat. Rodimus picks you up, resting you against his chassis. He pulls a thick polishing cloth from his subspace, folding it and placing it into his palm, before gently placing you on top of it, leaning you back against his digits. You fit surprisingly comfortably into his servo, legs dangling off the side of his palm. "Alright uh... you can just... void onto this cloth." His voice was strained, his internal fans whirring, his engine rumbling and his vents pouring hot air into the already warm room.
"I can't go when you're watching..." You mumble in embarrassment, face burning up. The cloth is soft against you, his frame warm and comfortingly familiar.
"Yes you can, sweetspark..." Rodimus rumbles comfortingly, free servo gently running through your hair. Your face is flushed with humiliation, you breath coming out as ragged pants. It burns and throbs, and you can feel a fluttering, tingly sensation blooming from your urethra, enveloping your entire crotch. One of his digits gently rubs at your folds, toying with your clit ever so gently to help you relax. He increases the pressure on your stomach slightly to encourage you, and you let go with a whimper.
It starts off slow, a gentle trickle into the cloth. Rodimus presses it against you slightly, making sure to soak up as much as possible. His thumb continues gently rubbing circles around your clit, cloth nestled in his palm. You can't hold back your noises, small moans and whimpers filling his audials. The sound of pressurising hydraulics can be heard as he lifts you slightly closer to his faceplate, optics flickering slightly as he watches. You're getting embarrassingly close already, panting and twitching in his servo. The cloth is almost entirely soaked, the once soft white fabric now tinted yellow. The feeling of emptying your bladder coupled with the pressure on your clit has you finishing quicker than you've ever finished before. Your back arches slightly, and with a soft moan of his name you're cumming against his servo.
Rodimus sucks in a heavy ex-vent, his free servo moving slightly faster. You didn't even notice he was touching himself until now. His helm hangs back as he overloads, sticky pink transfluids splattering across his desk and onto the forgotten datapad. You're panting as you lay back slightly in his palm, sticky, sweaty and absolutely spent. You both take a moment to rest before he pulls out another cloth from his subspace. He shoves the soiled one into his desk drawer, slowly wiping and cleaning you up with the new one. You hum in appreciation, squirming slightly at the overstimulating feeling of soft fabric against your sensitive folds. He quickly cleans himself up, his panel sliding closed with a click, and softly places you back down in his lap. His engine purrs softly, and you sigh contently. "Hey Rodimus?" He hums in response to your words, looking down at you with clear blue optics. "Next time you want me to piss on you, can you just ask?" You laugh softly. His faceplate heats up again and he bursts into his own laugh, rolling his optics and poking you in the side slightly.
"You ask so much of me." He sighs dramatically, shaking his helm. He reaches down to gently stroke your hair as you slowly start to doze off. His cheeks heat up again, energon rushing to his faceplate. "...wait... next time?”
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snookienthusi4st · 2 months ago
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lil mello x fem drabble cause i’m on my writer grind rn
warnings: smut, fingering, risky setting, overstim
note: there’s a safeword!! it’s just not mentioned
nsfw under the cut
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it feels like it’s been forever since he first laid you down, and all you can hear is the sound of his voice as he talks you through it. you’d both just returned to base after a mission and you were both so needy, nobody was around yet and things move so fast.
not like any of the other mafia members would ever be stupid enough to walk in on him pleasing anyone, so there wasn’t much to worry about.
and here you are now, on your back with one of your hands in his blonde hair as his fingers work into you like they’ve been for the past three rounds. tugging the strands to ground yourself only makes him more eager to please, he’s happy he’s making you feel good.
“mel.. too much,” your whiny pleads fill his ears and he smirks at how soft your voice is, having weakened from how loud you were being in the beginning. you feel him kissing that dip in your waist and moving down to kiss your inner thighs, holding you still as your body writhes against his touch.
“shh, i’ve got you. just gimme one more, okay?” he murmurs, looking back up at that gorgeous sight of your head thrown back and tilting to the side. he sees that little nod and takes it as permission to get you there faster, and he hears your moans get needier as you feel him speed up.
he makes his way further up and latches onto your neck, soft kisses against your throat as his fingers continue to curl and he starts thumbing at your clit. “m-mel,” you whisper, teetering over the edge of relief as he stays tucked into the crook of your neck.
“i know, pretty girl, you don’t have to say anything.” he reassures, pressing a kiss on your jaw as he stays at that same fast pace until he feels your release against his fingers. he continues circling your clit as you fall back from your high, his head lifting to yours as he lets you catch your breath.
after a few minutes, he pulls out his hand completely, sucking on his fingers and savoring the feeling before carefully sitting you up and redressing you. “mel?” you mumble as he pulls you into his lap. “hm?” he hums, adjusting as you set your head against his shoulder and snaking an arm around your waist.
“i love you.”
since he was a child it wasn’t something people told him often, or ever told him. so when those three words left your mouth, so genuinely like you’d never have to be prompted to say it, it shifted something in him. and he looks into your gorgeous eyes and he just knows he loves you too, and that the feeling of being loved by you is everything he’s ever wanted.
he doesn’t say everything he’s thinking about, though. settles for less and dips his head down to press a kiss into your pulse point. “i love you too.”
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k2ntoss · 9 months ago
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hi hi it's me again, back from the void
so like i've been so absolutely sick these past few days, it's horrid, but I've not been able to stop thinking about Jason bc y'know, total brain rot over here
anyway, i just need a jason in my life to give me cuddles and read to me while I'm sick and make me soup and gimme kisses and ugh i wish he was real so baddd 😭
- the very sickly lil 🦊
POOKIE????? first of all, how are you feeling now? i do understand your brain rot, i've been thinking a lot about jason while at work and i get too lost on it sometimes heh now let me get you something that can make you feel better 🫡 listen to this when you read, check on the trad bc the song is so sweet ): HOPE THIS HELPS TO CHEER YOU UP, 🦊
jason takes his vigilante shifts as serious as it's possible, after all that's his life and there's nothing more important than that or it was like that before you. there's no way he finds something else to get his mind busy when you're all he can think of and believe me when i say, he makes everything he can for you to always get the princess treatment you deserve and he couldn't help it, from the first time he laid his eyes on you he was totally in love and even when things weren't easy at first you both worked them through and that had gotten you here.
now jason can't see himself just going out on patrol when you're sick, that's the case now, it's a cold but a strong one and he's worried "grayson, i'm not joking- yeah, just one night i swear i'll owe you a big one" you can hear his voice as he speaks with dick, you had tried to convince him that you could rest on your bed and you would be fine but he wouldn't leave you when you weren't feeling good. his heavy steps let you know he's walking back into the room and jason smiles softly when you look at him from under the blankets "how are you feeling now, baby?" he asks as he sits next to you, his hand reaching to touch your forehead so he can check your temperature.
"i guess that there's no point on telling you i'm feeling good, right?" you asks with a soft chuckle, his touch is so gentle that it makes you feel fuzzy inside as he shakes his head before lying next to you "i'm not going on patrol, dick is going to cover me with bruce" jason tells you when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer so you nuzzle your head against his side "so i'll stay here to make sure you really take care of yourself"
he makes sure you're comfortable next to him and when you look up at him jason smiles brightly, is something so usual of him to you, even when there are bad and rough days or fights between you two there's also good moments like this and you both have made sure they are what matters the most because there's been enough shit that happened to you and him to cling into more of it. jason picks up the book he's currently reading, once again pride and prejudice because he knows you like it when he reads to you, jason would lean in to whisper some lines into your ear before he kisses your temple while his other hand plays with your hair.
"are we feeling better, princess?" he asks in a whisper, a chaste kiss to your cheek and one more in your lips because jason really doesn't mind if he gets sick too because that means you'll take care of him too "i feel better now... but i'm a little hungry" you say, voice gruffy and eyes a little sleepy thanks to your boyfriend's soothing presence and cuddles, he nods and sits straight on the bed with a thoughtful expression before letting out a hum "want some soup?" and as soon as you nod jason is walking to the kitchen because it's what has to be done if it gets his love to feel better and happy.
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damn-stark · 6 months ago
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Chapter 41 Thus with a kiss I die
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Chapter 41 of Sugar
A/N- No surprises by Radiohead, you won’t thank me later but it fits this chapter!!!!
Warning- Swearing, ANGST!!!, death, flashback, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!
Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader
Episode and or chapters- Chapter 259
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
————
*SOMETIME AGO*
“Blood manipulation training day 1,” you talk to the camera and back up to show Itadori, Kamo, and Choso training, but first you pamper yourself and smile at the camera before stepping away to let the others get in view.
“What are you doing?” Kamo asks right as he spots the camera across the mat.
The three of you look at him and you glance at the camera as if it isn’t obvious before looking back at him and explaining. “Recording today's training? It’s good to record some part of it and go back to see what you did wrong. Aoi and I would do that when Yuki trained us. It’s,” you snort and shake your head. “It’s a pretty good idea. We have a lot of funny reels—”
“Fine.”
You pout at the boy's interruption and sit down on one of the benches to watch the blood manipulators at work.
Honestly, you wouldn’t have come but Choso insisted because he wanted to show you how he taught his brother.
“Hm…the trick to convergence,” Choso muses as he rubs his chin in a very smug manner.
“It looks like I’ll be doing switch training with Okkotsu, and Kusakabe,” Itadori says. “So I’ll need to work on blood manipulation the hard way. And we only have one month. Gimme every piece of advice ya got!”
“Through blood and tears,” you interject quietly as you think of a funny pun, and end up catching the attention of all three men.
“Oh,” Yuji feigns a laugh, whilst Kamo looks at you unamused, and Choso rubs his chin and squints at you.
“You’ll just need to learn through blood and tears Itadori,” you repeat louder and a lot more smug because you could think of something you deem funny.
“Literally,” he feigns another laugh and this time Choso finally snorts and chuckles, making you smile wider.
“Good one,” he points at you. “I like that one.”
You shrug smugly and cross one leg over there. “Now why don’t you show me what you got baby.”
Choso’s cheeks grow a shade of pink but he doesn’t falter this time, not in front of his brother.
“Well, convergence,” he turns and swings his arm. “It’s kinda like this…” he pauses and swings to the other side. “Then like that…then a lil’…”
Oh, what a sweet man. As good of a brother as he is, he doesn't really know how to teach does he?
“Seriously dude?!” Itadori remarks.
Then again maybe it’s the student as well.
“Cho!” You call him out, and he peers back to listen. “Why don’t you show him that blood armor thing?!” You suggest so he could take off his vest and his shirt.
“Well,” he finally tells you smugly without breaking into timidness. “Maybe…”
“He’s not ready,” Kamo cuts him off and faces Itadori. “Think of bathing in hot water. You can feel the heat encompassing your entire body. In that same way, you can expand your blood vessels, creating a vague outline of your body. That’s the basic foundation of blood manipulation. ”
Hm simple enough. A lot more helpful than Choso's way of teaching.
“Like when you piss yourself?” Itadori surprises you by blurting, which shouldn't be surprising, he has this goofy sense of humor, but still, ew.
“Uh, whatever works,” Kamo mutters with the same disgust you feel.
“Convergence is a technique that compresses your blood,” Kamo continues sharing with Itadori. “Meaning we can use a sponge or paper- anything that can be crumpled in your hand easily—To help with imagining it’s a similar feeling, cans or clay work too.” He motions with his hand, making Itafori nod in comprehension before turning to face his older brother.
“Choso,” he says. “This is what it means to teach someone.”
You look over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile and grin even brighter when he starts to point at himself. “Supernova! Ask me about Supernova!”
“For starters,” Kamo counters quite respectfully. “We don’t have time to make blood manipulation a potent weapon for Itadori. It’ll be better for him to get the basics of stitching and stopping blood down.”
“Hmph,” Choso huffs in defeat and with a hanging pout that makes you walk over behind him to probe.
“I would like to know about Supernova.”
Choso slumps down and mutters in defeat. “You can’t even use blood manipulation.”
You push away from him and sit back down with the same pout he just used when he got rejected for teaching.
So much for tagging along!
Nevertheless amidst your growing boredom as you listen to Kamo, your phone rings, and when you check, it’s none other than your business partner, Kong.
“Oh, well what a welcoming surprise,” you greet the man smoothly. “Kong. Honey.”
At the sound of the man’s name Choso slowly sits up straight after being brushed aside to be replaced by the better teacher.
“Geto,” Kong greets quite irritatedly.
You sigh and sit back. “Can we make this quick, I’m in the middle of something.”
“Fine, get this man to stop following me. I gave you everything you needed. You found Geto, leave me alone,” he says rather brashly, which is not to your liking.
“Oh? Well fine,” you feign reassurance but then lean forward and actually click your tongue and inhale deeply as you prepare to bring something up. “But lately there’s been this…well, how can I put this…rat running around in my business…and you know if you don’t kill them they just fester and then it’s hard getting rid of them. What should I do?” You ask casually and glance at your nails.
Kong doesn’t miss what you’re insinuating with that clever choice of words so he sighs deeply and quickly argues. “I gave you everything you have. It’s all mine.”
You sit up and laugh, genuinely laugh, making his breath falter.
“You believe that?” You ask quietly in a voice that makes chills run down Choso’s spine.
“I know it,” Kamo claims confidently.
You feign a smile and remark sweetly. “Your business would’ve been nothing without me. I made it what it is, it’s mine, but because you did lend me a hand in starting it, I’ll give you a second chance. Or else I’ll call the exterminator, it’s not impossible to get rid of rats. Good day, Kong.”
You end the call and put your phone away before sitting up and swinging one leg over the other to continue watching the teaching going on in front of you.
“You know…” Choso trails on. “I could show you piercing blood. It’s pretty simple.”
You blink and look over at him, feeling your whole body ease at the mere sight of those rich brown eyes and that sweet smile. And after seeing him get turned down for teaching after being so excited and talking your ear off about all the things he’d teach Yuji, how can you turn him down?
“All right,” you give in and jump to your feet.
Choso follows you up and slips behind you to slip his hands under your elbows and push your arms out, making you smirk mischievously and bat your lashes before peering over at him.
Choso sees that smirk playing on your lips and swallows thickly before looking at your hands. “Focus,” he scolds you softly since he’s fighting the temptation of your soft lips calling his own to you.
“Okay then tell me.”
“Well,” He goes on and slithers his hands down your arms to grasp the back of your hands and push them together.
“It usually, you know, runs up to my fingers and I shoot. And that happens by bringing up all the blood to my hands and shooting at my target,” he says with growing excitement that makes you genuinely smile and just watch how his pupils glimmer. “I usually feel the heat and a…blood orb collects in between my palms before I shoot it. Which is similar to fire, hm?”
You summon fire to your palms, feeling the heat of the flames run through your veins before they glow under your fingertips. You don’t intend to shoot so you can keep the fire inside so as to not make a mess and disrupt the other learning opportunity happening across from you, but you give Choso your answer.
“Hm,” you hum in agreement and turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, feeling his burning desire under his inventive gaze, and his hot passion on your hips as he gently squeezes them.
“Your stance matters,” he speaks quietly but in an enticing way. “Your footing on the ground must be strong.” He says and glances at your lips, making you feel his blood rushing down to his member between his legs since he presses himself close to your back.
“What else?” You purr and bat your lashes, making him part his lips and breathe in but not mutter anything, you leave him at a loss for words over such simple gestures.
But he also burns you up with his intoxicating smell engulfing your sense of smell, those soft pink lips grazing the side of your ear, his hot breath unfurling over your cheekbone, and that sexy look in those beautiful rich eyes.
He’s such a distraction as he stands so close and that’s a mistake because before you know it, fire shoots out of your hands pointed ahead. When you feel it slip out of your fingers it’s already flying right in between Kamo and Itadori, and hitting the wall, completely missing them by mere inches.
“Oh,” you gasp and cover your mouth.
Choso steps back and looks at the burning hole you made and then looks at the shocked faces of his brother and very distant relative.
“I’m sorry,” you quickly say apologetically as you clutch onto your chest. “I’m…” you trail off and glance over at Choso, but that’s a grave mistake because the moment you do, you both watch each other with guilt for a second, but then you both look over at the black hole emitting smoke from the aftermath and start laughing.
Kamo and Itadori don’t find it funny because they were close to getting burnt, and Choso does feel sorry for almost being the cause of hurting his little brother, but you both can’t help but just laugh with each other. It’s like you’re enticed by each other, and hearing each other laugh only feeds into your humor.
——
*NOW*
Amidst the scorching heat that was quick to force itself through your secret art technique that was slowly failing at keeping you and Yuji safe from Sukuna’s divine flames, was suddenly a life-saving coolness that came with a pitch darkness.
Perhaps it’s your end, this was death coming back to collect what escaped its grasp before.
You don’t want to die. Not yet. Not in front of Choso, not when Satori is waiting for you to go and pick her up to take her home. You don’t want to die here either…
However, before you can convince yourself you’re dead, through the deafening darkness is Choso. He’s very close to you, and he was the one who saved you and Yuji from those deadly flames.
You had heard him calling out to you before, but this wildfire was so overwhelming that your mind quickly drifted your attention away. But now he’s here, he’s your savior and you can't help but smile with relief until your heart sinks to your stomach and this sudden bone-chilling fear hits you.
Something doesn’t feel right. Something doesn’t look right about him keeping up the shield made of blood, and rather than him just being covered in soot and slashes like Yuji and you, Choso seems to be getting slowly consumed by fire. And you would know, you have that technique, you know how it kills a person and the pungent smell of burning flesh.
But this can’t be what you see or smell, not from him.
“Choso,” your voice shakes while you still want to smile as you cling onto hope.
Said man meets your gaze and a charming smile decorates his features. He then glances at his brother and his smile only turns more fond as he speaks his name and yours with a gentle tenderness.
“Choso?!” Yuji exclaims as he too starts to realize what you do but what you keep wanting to refuse.
“What are you doing?!” Yuji proceeds to yell.
You study your husband's face and that fire seems to be consuming more of him right in front of you, and you can’t even stop it.
“You can’t do this!” Yuji remarks.
That smile doesn’t falter, his eyes drift down but that charming smile stays on his face. “I’m sorry,” he finally explains what’s going on. “I was useless during training. Your big brother tends to do things instinctively.”
Why can’t he stop?
Why don’t the flames stop?
Why?
“Cho—” Yuji cuts himself off mid-shout and draws in a shaky breath before his face falls and averts his gaze. “Instinctively, huh? You really hit the nail on the head…” he trails off and shares a moment of silence with his brother that makes you think that he needs to stop or he’ll die. The fire keeps eating at him. It keeps taking more of him away from you.
“Choso,” your whisper trembles, and the charming man slowly looks over at you. This time that smile falters.
“What are you doing?” You ask the same thing Yuji asked not long ago in hopes the answer would change and the outcome would be a hopeful one.
“My love,” he whispers softly and with so much fondness. “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head and step forward. “You promised,” you throw at him with a burst of anger. “You swore!”
He nods without shame and swallows back a lump of emotions he didn’t want you or his brother to see. “I did, I meant to keep that promise, I really did, but what husband, what brother, and what father would I be if I let you all die when I can do something to stop it?”
“We could find a way,” you argue desperately. “I can—”
“No, I saw it,” he cuts you off confidently. “You were going to collapse and I was going to have to watch you die all over again. I don’t want to live just to see that again, you deserve a happy life. I wish—”
“No!” You bellow mid-sentence and want to lunge forward to grab his face as if that would stop the inevitable, but the space is so small that there's no room to move any further, leaving him just out of arm's reach.
“Please, no,” your anger falters and your agony seeps through. “Please…Choso. Tell me what you want to say after. Please,” you break into a shaky sob.
His smile trembles and his eyes cloud with tears, but instead of saying all the beautiful things he wants to recite to you from one moment to another your surroundings go from grim and then to a serene view of vivid green hills, and a timid sun letting the night sky shine.
“Tsukumo threatened to pop my head off my body if I ever hurt you,” Choso mentions casually. “I didn’t believe she could do it until I saw her technique at work.”
You blink and keep your eyes fixated on the beautiful scene conjured up by nothing but the last remnants of his will.
“She was really protective of you,” he mumbles as he starts to notice your aggravation. “But that’s how big sisters are…” he trails off and he reaches over to grab your hand but you pull it away and hug your knees to your chest as you keep watching the gentle breeze move the sea of grass.
“I’ve,” you stammer and clear your throat to let your anger sound clear. “I've lost so many people I have loved, and maybe it’s my fault. I’ve gotten attached to them in this cruel world, but…I thought you wouldn’t let me down. You out of everyone. So w-why?” You can’t help but cry before you snap your head to the side to pierce your watery glare into him. “W-why are you leaving me?”
Choso sees how the last glimmers of the sun capture your eyes and his breath catches in his throat while that tough act falls because the truth is you were one of the few people he could be completely vulnerable with. You could see him sob and he wouldn’t feel like he was looking weak, he didn’t feel like he was letting someone down by crying in front of them. He feels comforted.
“I don't want to,” he finally admits with every word pampered with emotion. “I wanted to live a long life with you and our family. I want to be a father, I want to be by your side, but I’ve lost you once, and I’ve let Yuji down once, I can’t do it again. I can’t…so please don’t fight me on this, my love, please just let me look at you one more time. That way when I look into your eyes all I’ll see is my sun…my moon…my stars…my most beloved, my love, you.”
You can’t. You can’t accept this fate, you can’t pretend to be okay just to make him feel better about his sacrifice. No matter how sweet his words are, you don’t want them to be the last thing you hear, you don’t want this to be your final moments together.
You can’t be selfless. Your heart shattering and turning to nothing but dust terrorizes you. Your chest collapses within itself, and the beauty of the world vanishes to nothing, so you can’t smile.
You sit across from him like you would do when you would watch the city in your sleepless nights when you were trapped in that apartment for nine days. You hold his gaze with your eyes pampered with tears so you can plead and beg speechlessly and desperately like your life depended on it. Because it does, he’s the light that had once vanished in your life, he’s your hope and a part of your soul. How can you not fight for his life?
“Please don’t do this to me,” you cry, but not in that made-up world, you tell his withering body that had little to nothing left of the man you love because of that scorching fire that keeps consuming him.
“I love you,” he redirects endearingly and with that same amount of appreciation and tenderness he always held for you since the day he remembered who you were and what you meant to his old soul.
Albeit you’re selfish, these are the last words you’ll hear from him. Ever. After this…all he’ll be is a memory and you can’t accept it. You already lost one man you loved to death, you can’t lose another one to him again. Not again.
“Choso please don't do this! Stop! Please stop,” you beg with your life. “Choso!”
He holds your fire-kissed eyes that he loves so much and that he found hope in after a century of darkness, and all he sees is his joy as well as the love of his life and he can't be happier that fate was kind enough to let him cross paths with you.
“I love you,” he says a lot softer and with a quiver he can’t hide.
“No,” you sob. “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me!”
He wishes he could stay and live a long life, he hates hearing you plead so heartbrokenly, but he can’t watch you or Yuji die, he has to do what he needs to do.
Thus he holds your gaze for a lingering second and then looks at his little brother.
“Thank you Yuji,” he now dedicates his last words to his little brother before his life can be taken once and for all. “Thank you for being my little brother.”
Yuji inhales sharply and shakily before filling his brother's heart with sweet words full of love. “Thank you. Big brother…”
After those words are uttered Choso’s chest stops moving once and for all, filling his protective blood bubble with a grieving silence that you can’t process.
You stand there with no heart left, and hundreds of words left in your mouth that you never got to tell him.
“Choso,” you call out even if you’re looking at a cruel reality. “My love?”
The protective blood shield that kept your surroundings dark begins to collapse welcoming a grim sight of thick smoke and a burnt city, proving Choso’s attempts worthwhile.
But you can’t be appreciative, not when his lifeless body falls on the ash-covered ground with a thud. You actually can’t even believe he’s gone—no refuse to accept the truth.
“Choso,” you cry out and crawl over to his body that would’ve been unrecognizable if you hadn’t seen him burn away. “Choso, baby, you,” you say between sobs. “You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”
You gently cradle him and lean your face down towards his. “Just heal, you can do that,” you speak madness. “Do that for me please.”
You don’t think of your babies growing inside you who won’t know their father, you don’t care about his brother he left behind or that some part of you thinks you deserve this agony for all the things you’ve done, all you care about is him and your grief.
“Choso, honey,” you coo as you caress his hardened face. “Heal. Please,” you beg.
There’s still so much you want to tell him. You still need to tell him you love him, how grateful you are to him for loving you even after all the evil you did, for loving someone so cruel and selfish; for seeing the good, your strength, and your beauty. You never got to thank him for all the happiness he filled you with, or for caring for your daughter the way he did.
You never got to tell him that he was the love of your life, or that he completed your soul.
He left you like Suguru left you, and like Satoru did.
He left you empty with no heart or soul left. There’s an empty shell, left even more hollow without your brother. And it hurts, it pains you deeply with such an agonizing pain you have never felt before. It leaves you numb and unaware of the fact that in the blink of an eye, you were suddenly transported with lifeless Choso in your arms just past the area Sukuna vaporized with his fire.
From one moment to another, you’re facing a leveled city straight out of apolocpyse, and the next you’re staring numbly at an abandoned city as empty as the husk you call your body.
You would say that you were alleviated from that sense of danger, but the truth is you didn’t feel it. You don't feel the urgency to move away and protect yourself or who you carry in your body, nothing matters but the hope that Choso will somehow return. And now that nothing else surrounds you, now that Sukuna isn’t stomping your way through the clouds of smoke, you just disassociate yourself. By will or not you don’t know or care. You’re alone, truly alone.
And once again you can’t cling onto the love you have for your kids, no matter how hard you want to, you can’t depend all your happiness on a little girl. How could you give her that burden?
So it means that your greatest fear came true, you’re alone at the end of the world, carrying the corpse of your happiness, half your soul, and surrounded by the fading debris of what used to be.
What can you do now but lay down on the cold ground beside Choso’s corpse and nuzzle against him like you would in the mornings when you were both just relaxing before starting your day. You drape your arm around him like you liked to do so you could keep him close and bask in his warmth. You rest your head on his chest as if you were listening to his heartbeat.
Your world is now so desolate that nothing matters. You’re not cold or in a hurry to help.
You don’t care—or try not to…But the truth is you’re terrified and in withering pain. And never in your life have you ever felt so alone like now.
“You’re such a liar,” you whisper as if he could hear you. “You lied to me. You swore and you lied.”
You should hate him, find happiness, and hate him for leaving you the way he did, but you can’t even fathom the thought. You’re too in love with him to ever hate him or the happy memories that will surely turn sour soon.
“Why did you have to leave me?” You demand to know from a corpse as you refuse to accept reality. “Why? I love you so much…I told you I would die for you…”
You trail off to wait for a response because you know he’d tell you to shut up about doing something stupid, but it was far from a lie, and it was romantic in your head.
Now you understand why that foolish man from that tragic story killed himself for the woman he loved. You understand his pain, and his desperation to see the one you love again so you won’t have to spend a second longer without them. You know now why he couldn’t fathom living on…
Because there’s nothing left. You’re all alone, and there’s nothing worse than that. Which is why you’ll do it.
You’ll die for the man you love.
“Because,” you swear to whatever bind that holds power in your world. “What does strength mean compared to living without you? What is pride when there’s nothing to be proud of in the wake of your loss that will always hurt me and feel like a fresh wound? I don’t want to drag on without you. So please,” you sob into his chest. “Bring him back, I don’t care if he’s a non-sorcerer, just bring him back…”
You’ll give it up, your strength and power that held you so above everyone else. You’ll live as the people you hated. You’ll love the kind of people you hated and scorned for what they couldn’t have just so you don’t live without him. You will leave behind the person you took so long to build to your image. You will die just so you can live on with him by your side until the day you die.
And it can be a few hours from now, you don’t care, you just want him back.
“Please,” you beg whatever force made up the binding vows. “Please.”
You slowly sit up to look at Choso’s face, or what was left of him, and beg with all your agony and might. “Please just come back. Please Choso.” You whisper breathlessly and lean down to whisper against his lips and plead one more time with all the might and sincerity you hold.
“Please come back as gentle and sweet, as caring and passionate, as funny and protective as you were.”
You close your eyes and press your lips against Choso’s one more time, unaware of the fate you sealed, and of the gift of life and death you gave from deep inside of your withered soul with a sweet kiss.
When silence follows to consume you once again, it soon gets disrupted, but this time it’s not you that fills it with sorrowful words, this time Shoko calls out your name, but you don’t bother to get up.
Not because you’re waiting to see if your fate is sealed, you just don’t get up because you don’t have the energy. You’re too numb.
“Honey, get up and let me take you both inside,” she speaks sweetly and with caution.
You stay quiet and still as if you were lifeless yourself, so Shoko decides to slowly walk to you while someone else decides to cut in now; someone younger and sweeter and who doesn’t smoke ten packs in an hour.
Kirara calls out for you and they’re much faster to reach you and actually attempt to see if you were alive, or dead like the man you’re cradling.
“You can be with him inside. Come on, I'll help you.” They offer.
You close your eyes and sigh shakily, letting more hot tears stream down your cheeks,
“Come on,” Kirara doesn’t plead with you, she grabs your arm but makes sure to caress it as she offers her comfort first. “I’m sure this is uncomfortable, and I’m sure you’re cold.”
If you get up you’ll see Kirara, you’ll welcome their comfort. You’ll see Shoko and appreciate her attempts at comforting you, but you’ll still be alone, you won’t see the one person who you’re aching to see in such a low time in your life, Satoru won’t be there to wrap you an embrace or silently sit with you to provide comfort in a way he knows how.
You’ll stand surrounded by people but be abandoned.
“No,” you say hoarsely and grab onto Choso’s body a little tighter. “I want to stay here with him, I’m waiting.”
You open your eyes and catch Kirara's worried glance they share with Shoko.
Yet even then Shoko doesn’t walk over, so Kirara pulls you up and to avoid actually being a nuisance you push yourself up, but never take your eyes off Choso’s corpse.
“You fought well,” Kirara praises you as they wrap a blanket around your shoulders. “You all did.”
“I’ll have someone carry him inside you’ve already overstrained yourself,” Shoko breaks her silence that you begin to find odd. You’re surprised she’s not by your side being as worried as Kirara, she's actually being rather pushy after you returned from fighting Kenjaku.
Maybe all this has just taken a toll on her…
“You’ve been outside too long you feel rather cold,” Kirara points out as they drag their feet with you as you move slowly as if doing so is wearing you down.
“Shoko,” you catch the woman off guard and slowly drag your eyes up, letting her see how red your eyes are from crying so much, and the beautiful tragedy scared on every detail of your face and only spread its roots deeper within you. She can especially see such tragedy in your eyes, it’s hard to miss just like the sudden change.
Once furious eyes blazing with mesmerizing and ferocious fire are losing their mark.
But how, she wonders. Is your grief really impacting you so hard that it’s taking a physical toll on you?
“Kirara let's walk her into my office, I want to check on her,” she tells them as if you’re not there—then again you kind of aren’t there.
“Yuji? Where is Yuji?” You finally express your concern.
Shoko meets your gaze but quickly averts it. “Still fighting,” she lets you know and doesn’t fully relieve you of that worry, but you’re relieved he’s still alive.
“Todo used his technique and brought you in,” Kirara trails on after Shoko.
Aoi?
You glance over at Kirara with worry and they don’t fail to quickly assure you as if they knew what you were going to ask. “He’s fine, he should be helping Itadori fight now, so don’t worry.”
You sigh with relief even if now you have a bigger knot in your stomach because Todo is fighting now too.
“Kinji?” You ask for a man you haven’t heard anything about, even though given the fact that he wasn’t out fighting Sukuna, or here now means he should still be fighting Uraume.
“He’s still fighting, just like you said he would,” Kirara tells you with hope still laced in her voice which makes you think how beautiful it is to hear before you reach Shoko and wonder why she’s having such a hard time meeting your eyes, or even being close to you.
“Shoko,” you call out softly to your best friend and have Kirara stop so you can reach for Shoko’s arm with the intent to ask if she’s okay, or if something else happened, but then just as you thought that this was the end of your world, another pair of footsteps echo towards you.
You don’t think anything of it, you don’t want to because you assume someone is coming to collect Choso’s body, but Shoko shifts her head away and you catch a glimpse of black shoes you recognize. Black shoes you recognized first not long ago.
Can it be?
No, it can't, he's…dead.
But…
You draw in a deep and trembling breath and slowly scale your eyes up the approaching figure, feeling your pulse quickly racing as you recognize those baggy white pants you once thought were too big to wear for a fight, and that tight black shirt that hugged him tightly.
As you reach his face you question your sanity. It has to be your grief, it can’t be who you think it is right across from you.
He’s dead. He…he…
Oh, but those eyes. They’re so unique and so kind. How can you mistake that lively gleam in his eyes that always accompanied him? How can you mistake those bright eyes that you called home, that you found comfort in when you were terrified and upset?
You can’t mistake the eyes of your beloved older brother. You can’t miss the fact that his chest is moving and that he blinks. You can’t mistake him for an illusion because he revives that hope you had just lost with the death of your most beloved.
You can’t mistake him because he’s standing right there in front of you amongst the silent wind, the distant and unwelcoming warmth, and under the dry sky.
“Satoru,” you muse blissfully.
.
.
.
.
A/N- WHAT IS THE WORST THING SHE CAN DO AFTER FINDING OUT ABOUT WHAT THEY DID WITH GOJOS BODY?
Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina
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toast-in-a-cowboy-hat · 27 days ago
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I'll never get over Tex asking Michael if he has a brain chip, then immediately saying that Outlaw can take it out, and everyone acts like its The Most Casual suggestion one could ever have
Like yeah man, come on, it'll be fine, don't worry about it, just slap down a towel, get some of Outlaw's Backyard Brain Surgery, don't make such a big deal out of it
We can do it in the living room, you can watch some TV, Bluster might come in and say hi, just lay back and relax!
Also I assume he knows the general area that the chip wold be in, but also you need to know exactly where, so does he have an X-Ray Machine, or he just whipping out a metal detector in the middle of all this, homing in on it like "Hmm it's beeping real loud, let's try here... ah, nope, that's a beer tab, well we'll keep lookin', it's in there somewhere"
And I know maybe this is something to be done with a Calculator, but referring to it specifically as Brain Surgery and Michael saying he doesn't want Ty poking around his brain implies that its just regular (well "regular") surgery and so like...where did Outlaw get the equipment for this??
Where in the world is he getting this stuff, did he steal a copy of the Compound's equipment on the way out, is he going up to random hospitals like "Hey don't mind me just gonna duplicate your MRI Machine" or is he cobbling shit together in the basement??
Like you walk in and this man's defibrillator is made outta someones old toaster got some kinda machine in the corner partially made out of an old doodlebug hood, the computer screen's from 1995, but then again that's high tech compared to some hospitals so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Also I imagine this is a Base only kinda thing, but what if Tex's just down at the bar offering people free surgery like it's on the same level as a ride home?
Can you imagine being in a bar with your buddies, you just went to the doctor, they said you need some kind of heart surgery, and you're there talking like 'Oh it needs to be done but god, its so expensive, my insurance only covers so much, the bills are just gonna kill me, etc, etc ...' Only for some other guy that you may or may not know to pop up, go "Oh, hey, I got someone that can help you out with that", call someone else over and be like "This is my guy-of-indeterminate-relationship, he's a scientist, he can probably hook you up with a lil open heart surgery, no problem :)"
Scientist guy asks you what the problem is, you explain it, and he's like "yeah, we can do something about that, gimme a couple weeks to get everything together, I'll give you a call when it's all ready"
And you're just like, yeah sure, why not, Weird Cowboy Scientist's gonna do my heart surgery, sure. Is he gonna buy the implant you need? Does he just have one lying around? Is he stealing it?? Who knows, you'll find out, it's fine, sure
2 weeks later, you do the finding out and apparently none of your guesses were right, turns out he's building all this shit himself, but hell, it's faster than a doctor's appointment and free to boot, so! Why not! Sure! Let's do it, definitely not gonna be getting any organs stolen, this is all completely normal!!
And then its actually fine.
Nothing bad happened, no infections, no internal organs missing (as far as you can tell), it was a basic surgery, everything went fine.
You go home. You decide you don't need to know. You decide you don't want to know.
You go to the bar with your buddies again, the guy is there, you buy him a beer, have a little chat, leave the conversation thinking "Wow, what a fucking dork", and on life goes.
And I mean, I guess it could work in their favor, like, folks around get to knowing about him, and he's out doing something odd or seemin' suspicious or something and someone asks about him, they can be like "Oh no, don't worry, don't mind him, that's just Outlaw, he's Tex's... bestie? boyfriend? sugar-baby-boytoy-situationship-type-deal??? ...British Friend, and yeah he's weird n' all, but it's cool, he's nice, he sometimes help's out with folk's health problems when they can't afford it, and Tex's band plays at the bar, which is cool, so ya know, we don't question the weird shit they got goin' on, like it works out, it's all good"
Like, there's just....
So much, so many things there, I could go on, as you can tell, I have many a thought but like, I just - it's - yeah
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rachi-roo · 1 year ago
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-------------{ ☆°•○•°☆ }--------------
Jujutsu Kaisen: Game Over!
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Woooow! Been a while since I've written something so out of the blue! With everything going on in the show, I needed something softer 。゚(゚´Д`゚)゚。 I know Sukuna is the bad guy but.... Come ooooon, he's so scrummy! XD
You'll have to use your imagination with this one! I know that this isn't how Sukunas powers work with Itadori, being able to possess individual limbs and control them at times, but FICTION BABY! It can work how I want! ヽ(^○^)ノ
Please enjoy! Weeee!!
Summary: Itadori is having a rest day, enjoying the peace when a certain curse pops up, claiming he's bored and starts causing trouble!
Lee!Itadori, Ler!Sukuna
Tw: Lil swearing
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Peace. That was something that didn't occur very often at Jujutsu High School. So when it did, it was taken advantage of.
Yuji was resting in his dorm, recovering from an injury he sustained during his training, playing games on his phone in a comfy reclined position, his strained ankle propped up on a cushion.
"Tsk..." He sighed, watching his mobile screen flash with the words 'Game Over' as he failed a second time to beat that level.
Try again.
The level started up again, his thumbs dancing over the screen as he tapped the coloured blocks and pointers, trying his best to win. He felt a numbness creep up into his fingers, that sensation when you've been laying with your phone for too long.
Game Over. "Darn it..." He huffed, shaking out his hand, flexing his fingers to try rid them of the tingling pins and needles before starting the level again.
A few moments into the game, he realised his left hand, the one that was feeling tingly, had gone completely numb. Yet, he was still playing the game and winning, too! That's when it clicked. It wasn't pins and needles.
"Hey-" He lightly bonked his numb hand with the other, scowling as he watched his thumb continue to play against his will. Sukunas little mouth appearing on the back of said hand.
"What?" The curse grumbled.
"Gimme my arm back, right now." Yuji demanded, taking the phone from his, well, Sukunas grip. The other grumbled in protest, an eye and a mouth morphing from Yujis cheek.
"Come on, brat. I'm bored. You've been sitting here all day! Entertain me!" The curse sneered, irrigated by Yujis scolding.
"I've been sitting here all day because I'm injured. Now, gimme my arm back or-"
"Just let me play on that telephone device, I'm getting the hang of that game you were playing."
Yuji snickered. "Pff- Telephone device. Oi!-" He gasped as his possessed hand tried to snatch his phone away. "No! You're not even supposed to be controlling my arm right now!"
"Come on! You're no good at that game anyway!" Sukuna argued, still trying to grab the phone away. It was an odd sight. Fighting with your own arm isn't something anyone would ever get used to seeing or doing.
Yuji sat up, holding the phone over his head, trying to keep it away from the arm Sukuna had control over. "Quit it! I said no!"
"You greedy brat! Clearly, that Gojo fool hasn't taught you any manners!" He seeithed with rage, suddenly ramming his possessed hand up under Yujis arm.
"GYAH!?" The other yelped, bringing his arm down to try and protect himself as a tickling sensation shot through his core. "Hehey! C-Cut that out!" He scolded through his choked giggling as he tried to hold it in.
"Ha! What a pathetic weakness to have." Sukuna sneered, using Yujis possessed arm to attack him with tickling. He knew not to actually harm the boy, not yet anyway.
"W-Who the heheck taught you this!? Stohop!"
"I've witnessed you be tickled by Gojo and your other worthless human friends many times. You always lose pitifully the moment any of them touch you."
Itadori grabbed onto his possessed wrist, trying to pull it away as he clamped his arm down. "Cut it ohohout! KyahaAHAHAAA! NohoOO!"
He squealed, feeling Sukunas clawed fingers scratching over his ribs. Getting tickled by yourself would usually be impossible, but when your own damn arm has been possessed, it's a whole different and ridiculous situation!
"Yeah, that's right, kid. Suffer! Scream for mercy under my hand!" Sukuna laughed, enjoying the fact he could bully Yuji like this without any repercussions.
"Enough! Suhuhukuna! Ahaha! Get ohoff! WAH-!" He yelped as Sukuna clawed at his tummy, making him curl up like a woodlouse, giggling and hiccuping with a smile on his face.
"Kyahaha! N-Nohot thehehere! Thihis is stupid!"
"Not as stupid as you look. Tickling yourself. Imagine if someone were to walk in right now? Perhaps you should hand over the telephone device and let me entertain myself." The curse smirked from Itadoris cheek, squeezing up and down his side.
"Noho WAHAahahaAY! Aha!"
Sukuna chuckled at Yujis reactions, cruely digging into the boys hip as his safe hand swatted and blocked the attacks with all his might.
"I didn't want to have to do this to you, boy. But you've left me no choice. You are simply too disrespectful." Then, something awful happened. Truly devastating.
Both Yujis arms went numb.
"No, no, no, no, no! WAHAHAIT!" Poor Yuji didn't stand a chance, he was attacked on both sides by his own hands. Hugging himself as Sukuna tickled up and down the defenseless sides.
"Fuhuhuck! Ahah! Noho! Shiiiit! GyahAHAAA!"
He arched his back, his legs kicking into the mattress, scuffing up the sheets as he flailed.
"Eeheheee! Mehercy!"
"Mercy? You do know who you're talking to, right?" Sukuna grinned, rolling up Itadoris shirt and raking his fingers up and down his exposed abs. "How do you like that? Hmm~?"
"NYAHAHA! Fahaha-!... *gasp* PLEeeEHEHESE!" The vessel gasped and wheezed, fighting for a breath between his laughter.
He was stuck on his back like an upturned turtle, his legs flailing as he shook his head, messing his hair up something awful whilst Sukuna tickled his ribs with devilish precision, drumming and kneading into each bone.
"Such a fragile body. Tickling really is a problem for you, isn't it? Your poor sensetive flesh, so easily manipulated."
"Shuhut uuup! WaaAHAHA! T-Thihis isn't fahair!"
His high-pitched boyish cackling echoed down the hallways of the school.
"I can't breheEEEHEHEATHE! PFF- Aaaaha! *hic* NYAHA- *hic* AAAH-!" He hiccuped between bouts of laughter. His cheeks were a rosy red glow as he squeezed his eyes shut.
The curse laughed at him as he struggled, completely helpless as Sukuna dug circles into his hips. "Foolish boy... Are you going to be kind and allow me to entertain myself in exchange for my mercy?"
"Fuhuck it! Yes! Yes FINE! Juhust staAHAaahap!"
"Hmm... No."
"WHAT?! B-But yyYYAHAHA!" Itadori howled with laughter as Sukuna dug into his armpits, clawing and shaking his fingers into the vulnerable pits. "NO! NohoHOOO! HahaAHAHAAA! STAAAAHAP!"
"Now, what was it that stupid Gojo would say when he's punishing you with this method? Aah, something along the lines of... Tickle, tickle, tickle~" Sukuna sneered a cruel toothy grin. He was going to enjoy this.
After some time, the tickling finally stopped. Itadori was laid on his front now after managing to flip himself during the struggle. His clothes were ruffled and rolled up in various spots where Sukuna had gained access for tickles.
He panted heavily with his cheek squished into his pillow as he watched Sukuna play the game on his phone that he had just been tortured over.
Still not in control of one of his arms, the boy sighed, wiping his forehead with the other arm, shaking out the numbness as it returned to normal.
Game Over. Sukuna grumbled, tossing the phone aside after just a few minutes. "Bored now."
"You son of a-!"
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Thanks for readiiiing! Love you all! (*つ´・∀・)つ💕
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