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#of big prick energy
random-dragon-exe · 2 years
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Ah yes, the pose that screams "I’m a prick, I know it, and I have style when I'm a prick to you”.
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helluvapoison · 8 months
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Could I get Adam, Lute and Lucifer and how they 'court' the reader? Like how birds with court each other, little gifts, wing 'dances', nesting, etc...
Also, could I be your 🐌 anon? <3<3<3
Birds of a Feather
Adam, Lute and Lucifer courting you
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Peacocking has nothing on The First Man
• His personality is amped up to the highest level when he sees you walk in a room
• (Overcompensation for how fucking nervous you make him)
• Adam gets cocky when he knows he has your attention
• Tossing grapes high in the air and catching them in his mouth, bragging louder than usual about something or the other
• Heaven forbid you laugh at any of his antics, (His smirk is dangerous, “Oh you like that?”) he’ll start singling you out in front of everyone, calling your name before he acts up
• Performances include inviting you to watch his band play and miraculously getting more energy
• Casually tosses guitar picks in your direction— and when he finds out you kept one!? He’s over the moon
• He won’t go out of his way to get you food but he’ll order you something if he goes somewhere
• Adam hates nesting. He doesn’t like being stressed in general and nesting is really fucking stressful!
• The very fact seeing you pricks the urge in him to nest drives him insane
• (AKA, he likes you a lot more than he thought he did!)
• Seeing you in his space does something he doesn’t particularly hate though
• “It’s whatever if you don’t like it.” Adam shrugs
• “No, I think it looks nice! Very you. Tell me about these pictures?”
• He’s fucking done for
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Like they have a mind of their own, her wings stretch out and audibly fluff up when she makes eye contact with you
• Mortifying is an understatement
• She picks out trinkets to give to you at first, something small that could be waved off as insignificant
• Later, when Lute realizes her affections are returned, she brings useful offerings or something you offhandedly mentioned needing
• She wishes she could tell you about the exterminations solely to brag
• See how fierce she is, how skilled she is, how good of a protector she could be for you
• Lute will ask you to arm wrestle as a compromise. She gets to hold you hand and show off her strength!
• Nesting was fine, it was the judgment part that drove her up a wall
• Watching your eyes roam over her apartment, deciding whether or not it was good enough for you? Gah!
• “What, uh—“ Lute clears her throat, she’ll hate herself for even asking later, “What do you think?”
• You smile knowingly, something else that makes her absolutely mad, “It’s perfect.”
• Lute beams with pride like she’s won a great victory
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Never before has he felt the need to actually flaunt.. anything?
• With you it hits him like a fucking train and it’s even harder to supress it
• He’s Lucifer! That’s supposed to be self explanatory, that’s supposed to be enough
• Suddenly he’s checking every mirror on his way to you, making sure he looks better than he feels
• He tries to find other ways to steal your attention or show that he would be a worthy partner
• …But showing off his wings couldn’t hurt, right? He has six after all. If you needed to get to the other side of town he’d be more than happy to fly you over!
• Nothings too good for you! If Lucifer thinks you’ll want or like something, he’s buying it!
• Did you notice he can make things too? He’ll make you something— or fix something for you!
• Quick, break that so he can show you he can fix it!
• Lucifer pulls all the stops trying to prove himself, nesting is no exception… he’s just not great at it
• He starts! However a little after beginning he realizes just how big his mansion is and gets overwhelmed so he closes all the doors and focuses his energy on the only room that matters; his
• “I mainly stay in here,” Lucifer explains while squishing a duck in his fist, watching you explore his room, “I cleaned it up for you! N-Not for you, not for that— I mean not that I’m opposed! I just meant so that you could, uh, see?”
• “I see why you like it, I’d never wanna leave.”
• You’re gonna kill him saying shit like that
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 CAN I GIVE YOU A KITH BECAUSE THIS WAS SO FUN!!!!!
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reidsworld · 2 months
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Baby Fever
Summary: Max gets a case of baby fever after seeing you with his nephew. Based on this request.
Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!Teammate!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.1k
Mars speaks… Thank you so much for the request, I’m a Max girlie through and through so I loved writing this. I hope I was able to meet your expectations!
Masterlist
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The race weekend was in full swing, and the paddock was buzzing with energy. You were sitting on a bench near the Red Bull garage, Max’s nephew, Luka, perched on your lap. The little boy was a bundle of excitement, his tiny hands gripping the steering wheel of a toy car as he made vroom-vroom noises, completely engrossed in his make-believe race.
“You’re getting really good at this, Luka,” you said with a warm smile, watching as he zoomed the car around imaginary curves.
Luka beamed up at you, his blue eyes—so much like his uncle’s—shining with pride. “When I grow up, I’m gonna be a race car driver, just like you and Uncle Max!”
You chuckled, ruffling his soft brown hair. “I don’t doubt it. You’ve got racing in your blood.”
Max stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall of the garage, his heart swelling as he watched the interaction. He’d always been close to his nephew, but seeing you with Luka stirred something deep inside him. There was a softness in your eyes, a gentle warmth in your voice, and it hit Max with a wave of emotion he hadn’t expected.
He could picture it so clearly—a future where you weren’t just his teammate, or even just his girlfriend, but the mother of his children. The thought filled him with a longing he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.
Luka looked up at you with wide eyes, clearly adoring the attention you were giving him. “Will you come to my races when I’m a big racer?” he asked, his small voice full of hope.
“Of course,” you replied without hesitation, leaning in conspiratorially. “I’ll be your biggest fan. And I bet Uncle Max will be there too, cheering you on.”
Max’s heart clenched at your words, a sudden rush of affection surging through him. He’d always been focused on racing, on winning, on pushing himself to be the best. But now, watching you with Luka, all he could think about was a different kind of victory—a life filled with love, laughter, and family.
You looked up and caught Max’s gaze, noticing the way he was staring at you. There was something different in his expression, something deeper. “What’s on your mind?” you asked softly, tilting your head in curiosity.
Max pushed off the wall and walked over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Just thinking about how good you are with him,” he said, his voice low and sincere.
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “He’s a great kid. It’s easy.”
“Yeah,” Max murmured, his gaze dropping to Luka, who was now focused on driving his toy car across your lap. “But it’s more than that. You’re… you’re amazing with him— not just him, kids have always been drawn to you. And it makes me think about… about the future.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you realised what he was saying. The look in his eyes, the emotion in his voice— it was all so clear now. “Max…”
He reached out and took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I want that with you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “A family. Kids. I didn’t realise how much I wanted it until now.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, the weight of his words settling into your heart. “I want that too,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “More than anything.”
Luka, oblivious to the emotional moment between you and Max, suddenly looked up with a big grin. “Uncle Max, can I race with you one day?”
Max blinked, a laugh escaping him as he was pulled back to the present. “We’ll see, buddy. But for now, how about we get some ice cream?”
Luka’s eyes lit up, and he jumped off your lap, grabbing Max’s hand. “Ice cream!”
Max smiled down at his nephew before turning back to you, his eyes soft. “Come on, let’s all go.”
As the three of you made your way to the paddock’s hospitality area, Max felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. This was what he wanted—moments like these, filled with love and happiness, with you by his side.
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Later, as you sat together at a table, Luca happily devouring his ice cream, Carlos Sainz and Daniel Ricciardo wandered over, spotting the three of you.
“Well, well, well,” Daniel drawled, a smirk on his face. “What’s this? Max Verstappen, the babysitter? Or should I say, dad-in-training?”
Max rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his expression was undeniable. “Funny, Ricciardo,” he said, though he couldn’t resist glancing over at you and Luca.
Carlos leaned in, catching the way Max’s eyes softened. “No, but seriously, Max. You’ve got that look in your eyes. You thinking of adding ‘dad’ to your list of titles?”
Max shrugged, trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. “She’s always been amazing with kids,” he admitted. “I guess I’m just now realizing it,” he said as he reached over and grabbed your hand.
Carlos raised an eyebrow, sharing an amused look with Daniel. “Wow. Mad Max, finally softening up. Who would’ve thought?”
Daniel shook his head, feigning disbelief. “This is wild. First, he’s all about winning races, and now he’s over here daydreaming about diaper changes. What’s next, Max? Minivans?”
Max shot them both a look, but it lacked any real heat. “Keep talking, and I’ll make sure to remind you of this when you’re the ones dealing with baby fever.”
Carlos clapped Max on the back, unable to resist a laugh. “Hey, I’m just saying—who knew you’d be the first of us to get hit with it this hard? You’re practically picking out baby names over there.”
Max’s gaze drifted back to you and Luca, who was now blissfully covered in chocolate ice cream. He couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. Daniel let out a low whistle. “Man, I’ve never seen you like this. Totally whipped.”
You reached out to wipe Luca’s face with a napkin, glancing over at Max and the other drivers with a knowing smile. “You guys really aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
Carlos grinned. “Not a chance.”
Max shook his head, but there was no denying the contentment in his eyes as he watched you. “Nah, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”
As the teasing continued, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for the future. With Max by your side, you knew whatever came next would be just as thrilling as any race.
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Mars speaks... (again) If you wish to be added to my taglist for max or anyone else that I write for, please feel free to ask! Thank you for reading and have a great day. Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶
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mzzledmutt · 3 months
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thinking about keigo takami…
cw: fem!reader, vaginal sex, riding, tummy bulge, breeding kink
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“pleaseeeee?”
“c’mon pretty girl, can’t keep up?”
keigo can be such a lazy prick during sex. sat back with his arms folded behind his mess of blond hair, sleazy smirk plastered on his tanned skin. he’s able to hold this facade as you beg for his attention, just a simple touch from his fingers.
a pathetic pout and big eyes is usually enough to break the hero but, he ignores you. you fold your arms, hoping to truly convey how upset you were. the blond still paid no mind, a look of waiting on his face.
“ya’ gonna ride my dick, pretty? or do i gotta jerk myself off?”
“why won’t you just fuck me, kei?” you fall onto his chest, crocodile tears slipping down your pudgy cheeks. “cause you’re spoiled,” he pinches your cheeks forcing you to face him. “i’m always the one doing all the work.” your bottom lip wobbles causing him to roll his eyes.
“cut the dramatics. ya’ can’t ride?” you shake your head, as if you were truly helpless. keigo sighs, hands moving to rest upon your hips. he squeezes the chub in his hands, adjusting his grip. “got me doin’ all the work all the time.” you flinched as he effortlessly lifted your body, his thick length nearly leaving the warmth of your walls only for him to drop you back down.
you see stars as he slams into your cervix, a welcomed pain and pleasure fizzling throughout your body. “can’t put those muscles you’ve been working so hard on to use?” - “kei—!”
“that’s right, pretty.” his voice is gruff as he resists the urge to fuck into you, resisting the urge to give you exactly what he wants. “bounce that pretty ass on my dick, dove.” his voice feels distant as his cock repeatedly pounds into your womb, punching a small bulge on your stomach.
your hands rest on his chest, vision blurred and legs burning. rushed gasps and choked moans leave you, each bounce knocking the wind from your lungs.
“ke-kei, i-i can’t!” you wail, cunt gushing around him. “can’t what, baby?” his hand brushes stray hairs away from your face. your eyes focus, a sudden clarity fluttering through your system. the blond’s arms wee folded behind his head, smug grin on his face.
“you’re already doin’ so well, pretty baby, i stopped helping you awhile ago.” you hadn’t even minded his tricks, too lust driven to care. your hips come down at a harder pace, fully intending to milk him of all he’s worth.
your movements catch the hero off guard, his hands reaching out to hold onto your thighs. you’re relentless, the previous exhaust you had once felt had entirely dissipated, fueled with a new energy. “shit—fuckin’ hell, baby.” he grits.
you’re a goddess above him, an image of perfection. keigo’s nails dig into your skin as his cock throbs, a sharp whine leaves him as rake your nails across his chest. you’re both so sensitive in the moment, the slightest breeze causing you to shiver and yearn for more.
“that’s my good girl,” keigo grunts out. “such a good girl for me, you know that?” he rambling at this point, something you’re familiar with. his nails dig further into you, not enough to break the skin. “gonna let me cum in you, dove? hmm?”
“gonna let me fill your cunt?” his promises of breeding you fester into a ball of heat in your stomach. you slow your hips to a torturing grind and leaning down beside his ear.
“want you to cum in me, kei…”
“yeah? fuck, keep goin’, dove.”
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jurijyuu · 2 months
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Breakfast (Alastor x Fem!Reader)
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
AlastorxReader Smut
Summary: When his patience finally reached his limit, he decided to finally have a taste of the little human he'd pulled into their little hotel.
Tags: Female Reader, Non-con/Dub-con, Bondage, Kidnapping, Cunnilingus, PIV sex
AO3 Link
MDNI
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One morning in the Hazbin Hotel…
“What the fuck is going on with the fourth floor!?” Vaggie watched in awe and dread from outside the building. Everything seemed okay, no fallen debris and even the weather was a clear cloudless day, except for the fourth level of the hotel. It spun and glitched, warping this way and that. Its edges stretched and contracted as if it couldn’t decide which state of matter to be in any given second.
“I don’t know. We tried the stairs and the elevator but it just skips over that floor.” Charlie stared at the sight in bafflement. It wasn’t even that the bizarre phenomenon was hindering them, it just made that floor unavailable. It wouldn’t have been an emergency had they not had one guest staying on that floor in particular.
“And where’s Alastor? Isn’t this supposed to be his job?” Vaggie’s frown deepened as she looked around for any signs of the Radio Demon and found none. The hotel’s facility manager was nowhere to be seen that morning despite the big hubbub everyone was making. Instinctively, Charlie looked at her wristwatch. Ah. That would answer that question.
“It’s only 7:22. You know he doesn’t leave his room until 9.”
“Well, we have a situation and he needs to fix it.” Vaggie stormed up to Alastor’s suite, feeling for herself the weird but subtle distortion of space when the elevator passed the fourth floor. It was a ticklish sensation, like being thrown into a cold pool. Shocking but not harmful. Charlie elected to stay behind to organize and try to contact their guest’s phone to see if they were okay. From their previous attempts, it looked like the calls were going to voicemail after a few rings.
The elevator dinged onto the floor occupied by only the Radio Demon. It was eerily quiet, an attribute that she blamed on the creepy demon who had insisted that he own a whole fucking floor to himself when he’d moved in. It was probably how he’d managed to magick a swamp into his room, by sacrificing that other space with his weird spells.
Coming up to the lone door, she took a second to prepare herself for whatever she’d end up seeing in there this time. For all his gentlemanly facade, the Radio Demon enjoyed some grotesque things…like eating raw deer, straight from the carcass. She shook that mental image off and knocked. Within a few seconds, the door opened, the Radio Demon’s tall lanky frame taking up most of the opening.
“Vaggie. To what do I owe the displeasure of this early morning disturbance?” If not for the man’s word choice, she wouldn’t have known how annoyed the man was. He sounded jovial, almost welcoming. Prick.
“There’s some weird magical distortion thing happening on the fourth floor that’s not letting us access it.” Vaggie explained as best she could. It wasn’t like she was familiar with magick so she could only describe it as she saw it and hoped the man could fill in the rest.
“Oh that thing? I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Though it didn’t look like he’d need to look into it. The man absently waved it off, tone unworried and still light.
“Fine? Wait, you already know about it?”
“Of course. It’s nothing but a few mischievous strands of soul energy congregating in a specific area. Nothing to worry about.” He wiggled his fingers as he explained, as if the movement would help his audience understand the intricacies of soul magick and world energy. It really didn’t. He just looked condescending as he stood there, smiling.
“N-nothing to worry about? Did you forget who’s on that floor? What if they’re hurt or can’t get out?” To Vaggie’s surprise, the demon didn’t seem concerned at all about the only resident on the fourth floor, you. While she wouldn’t say the two of you were close, she did know that after Charlie, you were the next one he seemed the least annoyed with in the hotel. In Vaggie’s book, that had to count for something, even if it was only the man’s minute interest in keeping the hotel running and its guests happy.
“Did you not hear me, dear? I said it’s nothing to worry about. The distortion will fade away once the energies have flowed their way and since they aren’t malicious in nature, our dear guest should be just fine. It’s not like they’re an early bird anyway. I’m sure they’re still fast asleep while all of this is happening.” A clawed hand rolled at the wrist like he’d served her the most obvious answer on a silver platter. His eyes looked bored as he explained and she could feel the man’s patience waning even as his smile and tone remained the same, haughty and carefree.  
“How can you be so sure?” Still, she persisted. It was her job to make sure everything was okay.
“I’d already be working on fixing something this interesting if I didn’t already know its nature. Now, do you mind? I’m in the middle of breakfast.”
“Fine. But if it’s not done by business hours, you have to go fix it.”
“Of course.” The slam of the door in her face made Vaggie want to spear the man but Charlie wouldn’t want that. She had no choice but to walk away and wait.
“Sorry about that, darling. We were having such a lovely time before the meal was disturbed. Now, where was I?”
On the round metal garden table, his dear guest laid naked and bound. Your ankles were tied to your thighs, legs kept obscenely spread wide by tentacles. Any passerby would see your glistening apex, flushed and presented on his dining table. Your arms laid bound together behind the beautiful arch of your back. 
He took a moment to admire how lovely the red rope he’d selected looked as it dug into your skin. He released some of the tentacles he’d summoned to keep you still while he conversed with the intruder, except for the one around your mouth. The sound of your muffled squeaking was delightful.
You panted heavily from exhaustion, having been in this pose for over half an hour now. Little red dots traced a trail up from your navel to your sweat soaked chest, courtesy of him and his busy mouth. Sweat and tears glistened on your face, at least, on the half that wasn’t covered by one of his summoned tentacles. You looked ready to pass out and he hadn't even started on the main course.
Feebly, you tried to close your legs with a groan but the ropes kept you deliciously spread for his eyes to feast upon. It must’ve hurt to even move after being held in that position for a long time. He tutted as he approached. Poor darling. 
Your eyes followed his movement, noting the layer of amusement in his expression thinly veiled over a perverted look of adoration. Each clack of his red-tipped leather shoes sent dread through your system causing your muscles to tense. You renewed your struggle.
At some point in the early morning, something stirred you awake, an instinct that told you danger was close. When you’d opened your eyes, you found red ones cutting through the darkness, staring straight at you. It didn’t even give you time to scream before radio static filled your ears and ravenous darkness took hold of your limbs.
Strong eldritch arms had held you down, twisting your arms and legs into position while keeping you in the dark. The only sign that your captor was who you thought it was was the crackling of static and the chillingly familiar caress of leather gloves. 
You’d felt those gloves touching you too closely a few too many times from the tall facility manager of this hotel you’d landed in after a drunk college party turned a bogus demon summoning ritual into a real one. Except instead of summoning a demon, the demon pulled the closest one to the circle in. That had been you, a few weeks ago.
Alastor stopped his approach, slotting himself comfortably between your splayed thighs. His half lidded eyes watched you, the rapid rise and fall of your chest hypnotic in the hazy glow of the border between the hotel and his swamp. With perverted curiosity, he reached for your breast, the large expanse of his palm comfortably holding your flesh. He played with the lovely weight, watching how your skin cushioned his fingers with every light squeeze. With playful curiosity, his fingers tweaked your nipple and the cries you were suppressing spilled out, struggling to break through your gagged mouth.
It was lovely and he could feel his blood pump throughout his body, a rush that urged him to touch more now that he had you. You sweet stupid little thing. With no respect for supernatural rituals, your friends had tried to forcefully bring him to the human world. What better way to teach those brats a lesson than to bring one of them down here, he had thought. It was the best decision he had ever made.
Pinching the leather of his glove between his teeth, he freed his hand. The glove dropped to the floor as he now touched you with his bare palm. Rough calluses smoothed over the skin of your thighs reverently. You tried to shake them off, bucking your hips and arching your back as best you could. It was a waste of energy. The ropes biting into your skin held fast under your struggle and only served to further entice the demon holding you captive. Still, you refused to just lay there as your assailant had his way with your body.
Alastor’s smile widened at your endeavor. Oh, how he loved to see it. Your gaze blazed with hate as you thrashed on his table, the fight in you so alive yet so very futile. He found it so alluring. So incredibly despicable. How dare a weak little human look at him with such open contempt? How dare you make him throb with your seering show of anger?
Taking his other glove off, he whipped the leather onto the delicate skin of your inner thigh. A light punishment. You yelped and his ears tingled at the sound. So he did it again, the sharp slap of leather against skin against your squeals and squeaks fueling the fire burning in his chest. Each strike flushed the attacked skin and your face grew ever more teary under the assault. 
“Does that hurt, my darling?” He struck a stinging whip onto your breast, the impact causing your back to arch as you struggled to take in air. Still, your eyes darted to meet his own dominating gaze defiantly. “I guess not enough.” 
He continued, striking the flesh of your breast, each hardened nipple, making target of the red love bites he’d trailed on your body. With each contact, you twisted, stuck somewhere between hurt and unwanted pleasure. He brought himself closer to your core until your bare cunt wet the tight front of his trousers. A whispered growl left his throat, covered by another whip.
He was devious, never hitting the same place twice in a row and letting each patch of skin recover before he struck them again. It stung and your body contorted around each strike, your pelvis inevitably rubbing against the obvious tent he pressed against you. It rubbed against your nether lips, sometimes in just the right angle that brushed against your clit. That was the worst as those strikes came with a shot of pleasure that you really didn’t want to associate with the man and what he was doing to you. And it didn’t escape his watchful eyes as he angled himself to drive you to madness.
He struck your breast again, digging his hard on into you as he did and sending the biggest bolt of pleasure into you thus far. A cocky grin stretched his face as you moaned loudly, frustrated tears leaking from your eyes as your insides clenched in want.
“Now, let me ask again, my darling. Does that hurt?” He leaned forward until his long body hovered closely over your own. The heat of his massive body radiated both intimidation and invitation just short of blanketing you completely. The teasing lilt in his tone touched a nerve in you but unlike earlier, you had enough. Anymore and you weren’t sure what your body would do to you. It was too hot. It hurt. It ached. You ached, for all that you were against all of this. The glare you sent him was the weakest yet, more begging for mercy than spewing hatred that you couldn’t utter with your mouth forced shut.
He waited patiently, watching each slight chip and crack on your resolve. You knew he would drag this on as long as possible. With the magick he wielded, and loved to show off, it would be a simple party trick to hide you away for hours, for days…maybe even forever. Your heart shook. He could endure far more than your human body could, keep himself on edge until he got what he wanted or got bored. The manic gleam in his eyes screamed obsession, one that wouldn’t go away for a long time, and it outshone your resolve. So you nodded, playing along with him. Static crackled in the air, nipping at the tips of your hair. You shivered involuntarily against it. He reveled in it. 
“Oh my poor darling. Do you want me to make it feel better?” At the end of his question, he snaked his long tongue over your breast, lathing the area he last struck with attention. You sucked in a breath, this contact feeling incredibly gentle as the hot flesh soothed the sensitive skin. 
“So responsive.” He liked your reaction, licking that area again until he had you mewling and rubbing against him as you chased your body’s pain away with the pleasure he provided. 
Your head felt fuzzy as it processed the tingling sensations coming from your body. The ropes bit into your limbs, each whipped patch of skin throbbed in the cool air, a girthy length nestled itself in the bed of your labia, his hands left feather-light touches on your hips and waist and his tongue soothed and teased your breast with ridiculous skill. It was all too much to process and you walked closer to the edge of orgasm with each ghost of his breath on your skin. 
Until he stopped. 
An almost feral sound escaped your throat as all contact ceased. Even his hands that wouldn’t stop caressing you instead positioned themselves on either side of your head, caging you and keeping that fantastically cursed contact just an inch from your body. The tentacle keeping your mouth shut retracted and you were able to breath full gulps of air. He watched as you floundered, recovering from his delectable assault. His heart thudded with each desperate gasp for air and he ground himself against your core for a bit of relief.
“Let’s try that again, my darling. Do you want me to make you feel so much better? To take all your little aches and turn them into pleasure?” He looked down at you, his delicious prey, and you looked up at him, tugging between wanting that pleasure and reminding yourself that he’d abducted you. He’d taken you before dawn could light your windows just so he could play with your body. He’d taken you from your world when it wasn’t even you that tried to summon him. He still wanted to take more from you.
All of this was his fault. His fault. You shouldn’t enjoy this one bit.
Something in the way you looked at him must’ve let him know of your train of thought and he leaned in, hovering closer but never touching. “If you don’t want me to, I’ll be happy to leave you here until you change your mind.” Thin lips placed a slow light kiss on your lips as he whispered. “Just don’t have any silly little ideas about escape. You won’t be leaving here until I’m done with you.”
The room darkened around you until all you could see was him and the power he wielded to keep you here. The others in the hotel wouldn’t find you. They thought you were trapped in whatever distraction Alastor conjured up. They wouldn’t think to look for you in his room. You would be stuck here, going through pain and pleasure until he got bored of you or you gave in to him. The choice was made. You couldn’t hope to outlast a man who had eternity to wait.
Your head bobbed a nod that his piercing eyes hungrily followed but his insufferable mouth only grinned wider. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that. Would you mind saying it out loud for me, my darling.”
Your lips trembled as you caught the ravenous hitch as he proclaimed possession of you. Asshole. Git. Son of a bitch. He would look so pretty with a bullet through his goddamned head. Still, you swallowed your hate and made yourself the calmest you’d been since finding yourself in this situation. No trembling in your voice. Only cool hatred as you did as asked.
“Alastor, make me feel good.” In a deadpan tone, you commanded him. If he pressed you more, you might end up begging him but until then, you kept as much dignity as you could against his assault.
You stared coolly at him, traces of delirium vanishing from your face as you told him to pleasure you in the most uninterested tone you could muster. Hah! Defiant little thing. But he so loved that about you. All those days wandering around each other, your resentment at him pulling your down to Hell hidden behind courtesy. No display of raw power or tales of his sadism put fear back into those eyes. Just hate. Because the princess of Hell couldn’t figure out a way to send you back. Because your silly friends used a ritual that traps the crossing entity in the summoned world until the summoner’s wish was granted. And who knows who’s wish you had to fulfill when you ended up passing through?
“I’m so glad you asked, my darling.” Pointed sarcasm and mocking painted his tone as he moved away from you. Your eyes followed him, a curious furrow in your brows. He would have taken the time to admire the work he’d drawn on your body but he was impatient, finally getting as close to an approval as he was going to receive from you.
Kneeling on the floor, he pulled your body until your hips almost dangled off the table. Finally, he could feast on you as he’d been craving all this time. He licked his teeth as he stared at your soaked opening. Your slick glistened, reflecting the red that glowed from his eyes. It was almost too much to bear. Like a man starved, he covered your sensitive genitalia with his mouth, eyes rolling back at the first taste of you. You were better than he could have dreamed. A delicacy laid out on his table so that he could quench the thirst he’d developed since he’d first laid eyes on you.
His hot mouth wasted no time, sucking on your clit, the delicate bud screaming bolts into your body at the attention. It felt like you’d been punched in the gut with how quickly your breath left your body. And he didn’t stop even when you flinched away.
“Ah—Wait! Too much! It’s too—!” Your pleading only encouraged him more. Giving one more vigorous suck before moving away so he could speak.
“Little liar. You’re enjoying this too much. Why can’t you be more honest with me? Come on. Tell me how much you’re enjoying this.” The lower half of his face shined with your juices as he watched your flushed expressions with glee. All you wanted to do was smack his smug mug on the metal table. Crush his stupid head between your thighs. He could drown in your pussy if that’s what he really wanted just as long as this sadistic fucker died.
“Fuck you!”
“Oh, you will but let me have my appetizer first.” He slid his long tongue into the fluttering opening before him without having to move his head one inch. He got to watch you convulse at the intrusion, that venomous glare you threw him smoothing out into one of forcefully taken bliss. He summoned a few of the radios in his room and let his voice be heard while his mouth was preoccupied. “Come on, my darling. Tell me.”
“No—! Ah!” He descended back onto your clit, his pointy nose teasing at it as the full length of his tongue drove into you. It slipped right in, teasing the deepest part of you in strokes you’d never reached with your own fingers and toys. Tears brimmed anew from your eyes, this time in frustrated pleasure.
His breath fanned against you and you clenched around his tongue so tightly. He shuddered. Absolutely divine. Your pleasure was blatant as the scowl on your face melted away into mewing gasps. A tight ring of muscles halted the end of his tongue and you jolted violently off the table as he teased at it. He had to hold you back down so he could abuse that little spot at the tip of his tongue.
“That’s it, darling. Did I find the right spot?” You tightened around him harder, pulling at him as the sensations started to mount as you squealed the highest pitch he’d ever heard from you. He groaned at the sight of your arched back, arms bound and helpless against the pleasure he delivered, giving up your fight to chase the highs he was providing. The desperation in each unconscious buck of your hips, the wetness that dribbled down his neck, the way your toes curled in the corners of his vision. 
“Am I not doing a good job, sweetness? Do you want me to stop?” He wanted to hear you want him.
“NoooOooo.” He curled his tongue in just the right way that had you seeing stars. Did he say stop? No! Not when you were so close. The coil in your belly burned so tight as he kept teasing your cervix. It was regretfully sinful how good he was at fucking you with his demonic tongue. Asshole! You still wanted to smash his face in but if you couldn’t get away from him anyway, you would at least get off.
“No! Please! Alastor! I’m so close. Make me cum.” You stared into the ceiling, the tree canopy crossing into the more familiar hotel structures were dotted with stars as he kept going. A scratch of static crackled through the air and you heard a throat chuckle come from your assailant. 
“Good girl.” His hands pulled your cunt closer to his face as he ate you out with more gusto. His finger joined in on the fray, teasing your clit.
“Yes! It feels good! Feels so fucking good-ahhh!” Your heat was all he could feel, the taste of your cunt all he could swallow as your scent surrounded him and now you pretty little pleas were all he could hear above the salacious sounds of his slurping. Something primal in him groaned in appreciation knowing that you writhed and begged for each stroke of his tongue, each brush on his fingers.
And to think you were ready to spit on his face earlier. He took his tongue out and immediately replaced it with his fingers as he put his attention back onto your wanting clit. The reaction was immediate. You seized and came with a cry, clenching so tightly onto his fingers as your slick gushed around them. He pumped his fingers in and out of your lovely cunt through your orgasm, lapping up what he could of your spend with relish.
“You taste divine, darling. I’ll have to compliment your mama for cooking something so good.” With a dramatic slurp, he licked you one final time, letting you catch your breath as you came down from the high. Every inch of your body tingled, your insides still singing from the rush of orgasm. 
The sight of you so bare, your scent mixing in the cool mist, your bliss coating his tongue. It filled him with a hunger he’d never had until he’d plucked you from your mortal realm. Trembling in the grasp of his tentacle, lightly drunk off of cheap booze. A messy young woman with her hair frazzled and mascara running. Cupid’s arrow finally struck him after a century of misses. Seeing you walk around the hotel so wary of him despite his efforts to treat you with congeniality, the cold shoulder you presented him when even that grump Husker could get you to smile. You’d driven him insane. So very insane.
To have you in his bed. To hear your voice calling his name sweetly. To hear your passion. To taste just a fraction of the attention you easily gave the other demons. 
The ropes keeping you spread open for him were cut, your limbs too exhausted to do more than flop down in their freedom. The high left you paralyzed in dull exhaustion. That was admittedly the best orgasm you’d ever had in your life. You just wished it could have been with anyone else but him.
The sound of a zipper stirred you back into focus, seizing your attention as it dawned on you what it meant. A panicked exhale left your lungs as you turned to find Alastor with his cock out. It stood tall, red as the rest of him and weeping pre-cum over black and beige fur. As if the sight wasn’t enough to spear dread back into your veins, he eyed you with a half lidded gaze, his red scleras black as pitch leaving only the blaring reds of his dial pupils.
“N-n-no. Please. Alastor. Don’t.”
“Hushhhhhh. There there. Don’t cry my little doe.” He loomed down to cover your body with his again. The oppressive size of him meant to intimidate you back into submission. While your tears were beautiful, he didn’t like seeing them as he prepared for the main course. His tongue went to lick a salty rivulet, savoring the taste as he cooed. “You enjoyed my tongue didn’t you? I promise you, my cock is even better.”
The fat tip of him brushed against your tingling labia, his boney hips twisting until it caught onto you opening. Both of you hissed at the feeling, you in fear and him in awe.
“No. Please don’t.” 
“But I don’t want to stop, my darling.” He moved his hips, the tips of his engorged cock kissing your entrance but not penetrating. It glided and teased, poking at you and brushing against your clit. Each touch had him groaning silently above you, his pleasured voice right in your ear.
Unwilling sparks traveled up your legs. Gods. You were still so wet from his mouth and you could feel your body get wetter at the sounds he was making. Fuck. Now was not the time to find out you had a voice kink. You had to stop him. Beg him to stop.
But what would be the use? He outclassed you in size, strength and power. He would just keep you here until he got what he wanted, which you were starting to understand as he kept on with his teasing, promising to make you feel good the whole while with that sultry voice of his. Why wasn’t he just going for it? He’d forced you to go through everything this morning so why not go ahead?
He wanted to hear you give in to him, not just to let him have his way. He would keep torturing you like this until you told him to put it in, gave him permission no matter how forcefully he acquired it. Sicko. Bastard. Why did he need to humiliate you further by having you beg? It wasn’t even that he wanted you to beg, he just wanted your consent. Hypocrite!
Your tears didn’t cease and so did his ministrations. He lovingly drank your tears and whispered promises in your ear. You were a smart girl. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this. But maybe you needed a bit more convincing. His hand moved down, trailing caresses down your body until it reached your mound. At the lightest brush of his fingers against your clit, you seized.
He bit his lip as your legs unconsciously latched onto his hips, drawing him in until your opening left fluttering kisses on his tip. Ahh. He groaned. You little minx. Any more of your temptation and he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back any longer. He did it again.
“Come on, darling. Are you still sure you don’t want me to put it in? Say the word and ahhh I can feed that hungry mouth of yours.” You squirmed and tried to get away but he kept you in place as another rush of liquid started to coat his member. “Look. You’re starting to drool down there. So just say it. Say that you want this. Say that you want me.”
A pressure was building in your gut as he rubbed your sexes together in delicious slick friction. Fuck. Why did it have to feel so good? From the kisses to your cheeks to the hand religiously working your button, this monster knew how to play your body so well. Seeing no other end to this than when he was finally satisfied, you nodded, watery eyes meeting his manic ones.
“Fine! Go ahead. Put it in and fuck me already you asshole!”
Electricity shot between you both as his grin widened. With one last brush against your entrance, his cock inched in. Both of you gasped. Even after you came on his tongue, you were still so tight. Though he didn’t have that much girth, his cock still stretched you out. 
Both of his hands caught him as he leant on them for support. So good. The pressure around his cock head felt enthrallin. It was all he could do to ease into you slowly. Sweat dripped down his face onto yours as he concentrated. “Fuck.”
You don’t think you’d ever heard him curse before. The foreign sound of it blindsided you enough to distract from the almost uncomfortable intrusion. He stared at your face, bottom lip caught in his teeth, eyes wide. You almost hated the slight whisper of smugness in your brain as it registered the pleasure so apparent on his face. It gave you something to feel good about given how powerless you felt.
With a burst of spite-inspired smugness, you rolled your hips, taking him all in until your pelvises met. One of his hands buckled as he fell into his elbow. You could have laughed if his cock didn’t stuff you so full it was almost painful. “What’s the matter Alastor? I thought you were going to make me feel good?”
After a moment or two, he seemed to gain control, rising back up so he could look at you, his face bright with predatory victory. “Just…making sure you can take me, my darling.”
He thrust his hips forward a few times, softening you up against his cock before leaning down so his lips brushed your ear. “And you do, my darling. You take me..so..well.”
With that, he started thrusting in earnest, one hand on your hip as the other guided you into a demanding kiss. Your angry tears were forgotten in place of painful pleasure as each time he entered you, he rammed against your cervix only easing the pain when the curve of his cock stroked your inner walls as he pulled out.
Again and again. In and out and his teeth nibbled on your lips, inhuman tongue mapping every corner of your mouth. It hurt! It felt great! Static nicked at your skin, moving from him to you and back. Each kiss and thrust with his energy that was starting to fry your mind into an object of only pleasure.
Your discomfort turned into putty moans that he devoured, laying toothy kisses on your mouth, your neck, your collarbone. Your breathless wanton cries filled his ears as your warm heat squeezed his cock for all he was worth. This was better than he’d imagined, hotter, sweatier, messier. Absolutely filthy as his claws dragged down your arms, leaving bleeding marks in their wake. He licked those ruby lines even as you cried in pain.
In retaliation, your hands wove into his hair, pulling with the intention to cause only pain. It was like lightning hit his spine, causing his hips to jerk and find home in your cunt. 
“Keep doing that.” He groaned into your breast before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh. You yelled as he broke skin, not thinking twice about pulling even harder and clawing your blunt nails against his scalp and neck. 
“Ah! Alastor! Fuck! That hurts!”
Yet your complaint didn’t come without a whorish moan as he ground his hips into your more and his hand found bud to play with. “Yet look how you’re about to come for me. Why don’t you do that, my darling? Come undone on my cock.”
“Say how much you love this.” He could feel the signs of your oncoming orgasm, your cunt sucking on him, daring him to go deeper. Your nails raked coals along his back, popping buttons from his shirt and coat as you tried to inflict as much pleasured pain upon him as you could. He could barely keep himself together, wanting to push you over the edge before he found his release.
“No. No! Alastor! Alas—“ you seized and spasmed, feet digging into his back you clung to him in abandon.
“Do it, darling. Let yourself go.” With little space to move, he could only grind against you, stirring your insides as he groaned at your fluttering warmth. He whispered in your ear and that was all it took to get you off. With a squeal, your body tightened, limbs pulling him into you, grabbing at him with greedy hand fulls.
He groaned, losing track of himself as he thrust one last time and poured his seed into your milking channel.
Both of you collapsed onto the metal table as you came down from your peak. You vaguely observed how sticky and suffocating his sweaty hair was as it rested on your neck and collar. His uneven breath fanned hot air onto your shoulder as the rest of him weighed down on you. He was heavy for someone so thin.
Eventually, the demon recovered, a winning smile on his face as he peered down at you, completely marked in his kisses and scratches. Eyes still defiant but too tired to do anything but look at him.
You expected him to pull away and leave you there in your post-coital misery. Instead, hands went around your waist and back, lifting you up without taking himself out of you. 
“What are you doing?” Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist in fear of falling as he stood to his full height with you still wrapped around his dick. 
“Taking you to bed, darling. We still have a few hours before you’re expected to show up. Why don’t we take a break, hm?” Each step towards his bed made it clear to you that he was slowly hardening again. No way. That was too quick. Before you could protest, he already sat down on the velvety mattress. 
Maneuvering until you both lay beneath the covers, he somehow managed to keep you connected the whole time. You lay on his chest, painfully aware of each little adjustment he made as he tried to get comfortable.
“Alastor, I don’t think I can do another round.”
“Of course not. You’re only human, my darling. Go sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to get up and start the day.” His hand threaded through your hair, watching the perplexed and mildly uncomfortable expression on your face as he moved his hips again. He’d waited so long for this. Of course he would enjoy every second of being inside you that he could. With time, he hoped you would enjoy it as well.
Slowly, you forced yourself to relax, taking the reprieve he offered before he took it away. As your breathing evened and your weight pressed heavier into him, he wondered if it was possible for you to get pregnant since you were still alive.
He’ll just have to find out, now, won’t he?
626 notes · View notes
writemekpop · 16 days
Text
Make Up Sex | Lee Jeno
Summary: You've been hiding a big secret from your husband Jeno. What happens when he finds out?
Genre: Established relationship AU, angsty, suggestive, baby daddy Jeno
Word Count: 1k
A/n: We're baaaaaack! We're sorry it's been a while, so here have some juicy Jeno baby daddy angst xx requests are open!
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It was past midnight when you got home from work. You felt terrible for missing Mac's bedtime for the fifth time this week.
Right now, all you wanted was to curl up in bed next to your husband Jeno and sleep for a year.
You tiptoed into the living room and set your bag down on the sofa. You flicked on the light, and saw Jeno sat at the dining table.
You yelped. "Jeno, what were you doing sitting in the dark?"
Jeno didn't reply. That's when you realised something was off with him. He was sat bolt upright, jaw clenched, hands balled up into fists.
Even though he was sat there in his blue polkadot pyjamas, he looked threatening. His dark hair framed his frown.
You edged closer. "What's the matter?"
Then you saw the bunch of folded letters in his hand. Your heart dropped into your stomach.
"Jeno, I can explain..."
Jeno met your eyes for the first time. His brown eyes were ice cold.
"When were you going to tell me about this?" He spat.
You pulled out the chair next to Jeno and sat down. You put your arm on his shoulder, but he flinched away from your touch.
Jeno shoved a piece of paper into your hands. "This is an offer letter for a job in Argentina."
You gulped.
Jeno flipped through the other letters. "It says here you applied six times." He said. "You applied for a job on the other side of the world six times and you didn't think to tell me about it once?"
You couldn't tell if Jeno looked more angry or just hurt.
"I was going to tell you..."
Jeno scoffed. "When? From the plane? Or were you just going to call me from... Rio or whatever the fuck the capital of Argentina is."
"I didn't think I'd actually get in..."
Jeno rolled his eyes.
You frowned. "You know, this is actually a really big deal. This is one of the most prestigious jobs in the world for a conservation biologist. Why can't you just be proud of me?"
Jeno stood up, the chair screaming against the wooden floor. He bowed dramatically.
"Congratulations, Y/n."
Tears pricked your eyes. "You don't have to be sarcastic."
Jeno stormed out of the living room, slamming the door.
You winced, tiptoeing behind him. "Shh, you'll wake Mac!" You eyed the door to the nursery, which was ajar.
"So now you remember we have a son! Are you just going to deprive your toddler of his mother for a whole year?"
"It's actually a two year programme..." you said, eyeing the carpet.
Jeno tugged his hand through his hair. "Well that's just perfect."
You followed Jeno into the bedroom.
"You know, Y/n. Normal people have affairs. They don't sneak off behind their partner's back and get a job a thousand miles away."
You slumped onto the bed, sighing. "Jeno, I just feel like I'm wasting away at my current job. I know I was made for some thing bigger. The project I'll be working on is to create an entirely new source of green energy. We could change the world."
Jeno sat down beside you on the bed. "I didn't know you hated your job."
You edged closer to Jeno, closing the gap between you and him on the bed. You tentatively touched his arm. He didn't push you away this time.
You traced your fingers up his biceps, across his neck and settled on his cheek. Jeno shut his eyes and leaned his face into your hand.
You looked as his dark eyelashes, and his plump lips. You just wanted to kiss his pain away.
Jeno kept his eyes squeezed shut as he spoke. "To me, you and Mac are my whole world. Are we not enough for you?" His voice cracked. "Am I not enough for you?"
You gulped. You knew what the answer was, but somehow, the words wouldn't come out.
You held Jeno's face in your hands. Then you leaned forwards and kissed him, hard.
Jeno grunted in surprise, but he quickly started to kiss you back. His large hands found your waist, and he pulled you onto his lap, so that you were straddling him.
You drank up Jeno's taste, the faint peach scent of his shampoo, the feel of his hard body underneath you.
You broke the kiss for a second, and pullled your shirt off. You unclasped your bra. The look in your husband's eyes was close to feral.
You were used to slow and gentle love making, with lots of soft smiles and giggles. This was completely different. Your entire body felt alight.
Jeno yanked off his own top. You eyed his muscled body, mouth watering. He picked you up in one arm and dropped you on the centre of the bed. He lay himself on top of you.
You kissed his neck whilst he took off the rest of your clothes.
Jeno dived between your legs, making you gasp.
--
After, you lay with your head on Jeno's chest. You were both still naked. The rhythmic thumping of Jeno's heart calmed your haywire nerves.
After a while of comfortable silence, Jeno cleared his throat.
"We're going to have to get Mac some sunglasses, for when we come down to visit. I hear it's pretty sunny in Argentina."
You shot up and turned to look at Jeno. His dark fringe was coveirng his eyes, and his cheeks were flushed.
"You're okay with me going?" You exclaimed.
Jeno sat up too. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug.
"You should have told me sooner," Jeno said. "But... of course I'm happy for you. I always knew you were going to change the world. I'm sorry about how I reacted."
You couldn't stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. You buried your head in his shoulder and cried.
"I love you," you said, between sobs. "I'm sorry for keeping this from you."
Jeno wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He smiled. "Has anyone told you you're an ugly crier?"
You snorted. Jeno started to laugh, which made you laugh too. The tension in the room melted away, leaving only love.
You ran a finger down the centre of Jeno's chest, making him shudder with pleasure.
Jeno pulled the blanket over you both. "Two years isn't that long, when you think about it. Not when we've got forever."
"You helpless romantic, you..."
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
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546 notes · View notes
strang3lov3 · 1 year
Text
For Science
Soft!Joel Miller x Fem Reader
Summary: Joel’s heart breaks at your misery when you’re on your period, so he does what he can to alleviate your pain. 
Warnings: Fluff, smut, blowjobs, fingering, awkward Joel and Reader, period cramps, period sex, unprotected PIV. sweet sweet joel. Mutual pining
W/C: 4k
A/N: For all the menstruating Joel girlies, this one’s for you. And me too, because this shit fucking sucks. Admittedly this is very self indulgent. This isn't my favorite fic, but I hope you guys like it anyway. I feel like it's devoid of a lot of typical period fic tropes so I am unsure if y'all will enjoy. Have a great weekend!
btw, send me an ask or comment if you aren't tagged and would like to be! mwah kisses love you all <3
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as always, please leave me a comment or reblog if you liked the story! i am desperately in need of validation
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Knock knock knock. “You okay in there? Haven’t seen you at all today, honey,” Joel asks as your door swings open slightly. His brows are knit together and his soft eyes are big and worrisome.
Joel hates seeing you like this. You’re huddled with your knees curled into your chest on your bed, trying to will away the pain. Your hands are clutching your stomach, you’re quietly moaning in agony. 
“I think I’m getting sick,” you rasp out, your voice weak. It started with a dull ache in the pit of your stomach that didn’t seem to leave. Then came the nausea. 
“Sick, hm? Can I come in?” Joel asks you. You nod yes, and the door opens wider. His footsteps are soft towards the bed as he sits next to you. “Let me check you for a fever?”
You nod again, not having much energy to use your voice. Joel places a palm first on your forehead, then your cheek. Not satisfied with the results, he repeats the action with the back of his hand. It’s such an unexpectedly sweet and caring gesture, your eyes prick with tears. 
“Not terribly warm,” he mumbles. And then it catches his eye: that rusty bloodstain on your bed, heavy and concentrated to a few square inches. He leans over to check your backside, where he finds the stain mirrored on your pants. “Think you started your period, honey.” he whispers. 
The cramps and nausea feel all too familiar now. 
You hadn’t had a period since the beginning of your trek across the country with Joel and Ellie. Not that it was a super regular occurrence before that, but you often gave your food to the younger girl. Being so malnourished, your period disappeared. It was a welcome exit, your period was always exceptionally painful and miserable for you. 
“Oh,” you move your hand to your ass and press your fingers into where you think the bloodstain should be. And yup, there it is. “Shit.” you grumble, looking at the matching bloodstain on your blanket. The last thing you wanted to do today was laundry. 
Your cheeks heat up slightly. Hiking halfway across the country with someone, modesty is usually thrown out the window. You and Joel have seen each other in all sorts of intimate states, too intimate for the type of relationship you share. But still, you can’t help but be slightly embarrassed.
He must see your blush. “Hey, it’s alright,” Joel assures you softly. “I was gonna go over to Tommy and Maria’s anyway to do some laundry. Why don’t you let me wash your blanket and those clothes, hmm?”
“You really don’t have to, Joel,”
He ignores your gentle protesting. “Nonsense. I’m gonna give ya some privacy for a second, leave what you want washed outside your door. I’ll be back in a few hours,” 
You smile gently, scolding him in your mind. He doesn’t need to be doing all of this for you. He smiles back, warm and shy, before exiting your room and shutting the door behind him. 
You strip, changing into some sweats and fresh panties. In the bathroom are some reusable pads made from old towels that Maria gifted you when you first arrived in Jackson with Joel and Ellie. She gave the last menstrual cup to Ellie, who’s at school today. You put on a pad, toss your soiled clothing outside the door, and curl up with a book on your bed.
Joel lets himself inside Tommy and Maria’s home. Yes, there’s a community laundromat. But those often require socializing, which Joel is not much a fan of. Tommy and Maria generously offered you and Joel their to use washer and dryer instead.
He places the basket of laundry on top of the dryer and begins filling the washer with your clothes and blankets, none of his own, and sprinkles in some detergent. 
Joel lied. He did his laundry yesterday. But he knew how ill you were feeling, and Joel, ever the gentleman, decided to take it upon himself to take care of this for you. The grumpy asshole did have a heart after all. 
“Back so soon?” A voice interrupts. Joel turns to look, it’s Maria standing in the kitchen with her baby on her hip. “Didn’t you do laundry yesterday?”
“I did, yeah,” Joel responds. 
Maria notices your soiled panties sitting on top of the blanket she recognizes as yours in the washer. “She got her period, I’m guessing?”
Joel nods. “Yeah, figured I’d take care of the laundry for her,” “Well aren’t you kind,” Maria says, impressed. Not many guys would take care of washing a woman’s period-bloodied clothing. “I thought she might be starting soon. Noticed yesterday at the dining hall she was complaining of cramps and such. She also seemed a little moodier than usual.”
Joel shuts the lid and turns on the washer. “I thought so too,” he agrees. “She was a little irritable.”
Maria puts on a pot of coffee and offers Joel a cup, to which he accepts. For a while they talk about Tommy, then their new baby. When the washer finishes, Joel moves the clothes and blanket to the dryer. 
“I can drop those off for you if you’d like,” Maria offers. “You may wanna get back and make sure your girl’s doing okay.”
“That’d be great, I was actually thinkin’ the same thing,” Joel thanks Maria. “You don’t have any pain meds, do you? Poor thing looks terrible. She’s all curled up into herself, barely speakin’ to me.”
“No, I don’t, unfortunately,” 
Joel sighs. “How do you deal with it, then? Cramps and all that,”
“Well, a warm bath always helps. So does a heating pad if she has that,” Maria says. 
Joel nods his head. “Is there anything else? Tea? Somethin’, anything. I mean, this girl is absolutely miserable,”
“Well,” Maria starts, unsure if she’s ready to reach this level of personal with her brother-in-law. “Orgasms.”
Joel sputters into his mug as he chokes on the coffee in his mouth. “Pardon?”
“Yeah, orgasms. Have sex with her. It’s what I recommend to all the women here. It does help the cramps subside, at least for a bit,” Maria says. Joel’s face drops, his eyes go wide. “What, are you afraid of blood or something? You’re washing her bloody clothes…”
“No, no. It’s uh, it’s not that. We aren’t…we’ve not…”
Maria stops Joel, understanding. “My apologies. I thought you guys were together like that. Well, God gave women fingers for a reason,” she says, very matter of factly.
Joel blushes, images of you and your wandering fingers flooding his imagination. “Got it,” is all he says. No fucking way in hell he’s going to tell you to masturbate to alleviate your cramps. That can most definitely be a conversation between you and Maria another time, when Joel is far away from you both.
He awkwardly says goodbye then, making his way back to your shared home. Maria sends him home with some potato soup, instructing him to heat it up for you. It’s good comfort food, she says. 
In your bedroom, you look to be in about the same position as you were before. Whimpering in pain, rocking your body back and forth in the fetal position. Anything to shake the hurt away. 
“Hey darlin’, Maria gave me some potato soup to heat up for you. Can I make you some?” Joel’s back in your doorway, his tall frame leaning across the rickety old wood. 
“No, thank you,” you whisper. “Not really hungry.” “Figures. That’s alright. Anything else I can do?”
No, you tell him. Not unless he’s willing to be your human body pillow. This entire time you’ve been bleeding, you’ve been aching for comforting touches. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, warm hands pressing on your lower tummy. The other hand holding your own, thumb tracing back and forth on your skin. Soft kisses on your forehead, your hair. You just want to be loved, gently. The way you so deserve. 
Joel turns to leave then, just about shutting the door behind him. 
Maybe…
“Joel?” you call out. 
“What’s up, honey?” 
“I was just wondering if you’d maybe hold my hand. Just for a second,”
Joel smiles sadly through the crack of the door. “Of course,” he says tenderly, like it shouldn’t have even been a question on your mind. Of course he’ll hold your hand.  He meets you at the bed, sitting awkwardly next to you. He offers you his hand, which you take in both of yours. It’s dry and calloused, but so warm and comforting. “Squeeze me as hard as you need, alright? I can handle it.” Joel adjusts slightly so he’s laying next to you, his other hand stroking your hair. He smiles to himself, small and genuine. 
A wave of ache overtakes your body, beginning in your abdomen and spreading up your chest and down your thighs. Your breasts are heavy and swollen and aching angrily. You groan in agony. “Fuck,” you whimper. 
“What hurts? Where?”
“Everywhere,” you cry. Your hands leave his, and they find their way to his torso. You grasp his sides in your fists and squeeze, but he doesn’t complain. It doesn’t hurt, and even if it did, you’re hurting worse. In truth, he’s savoring the warmth your bodies create together. He loves being able to comfort you like this. 
Joel wraps his arms around your back, dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. “You’re breakin’ my heart, honey,” he whispers. “Let me help you. What can I do?” he asks, hot breath tickling your ear.
“I don’t think you want to,” you murmur.
“Try me,”
You sigh, sitting up on his chest slightly. “Can you…massage me? My chest?” 
Joel’s breath hitches and he shuffles awkwardly. “I suppose,” he starts. 
“I’m sorry. I just need your strong hands, I tried doing it myself but–”
“No, yeah. Of course,” Joel interrupts. He’s at a loss for words, more filthy images of you flooding his mind. Just like before, at Maria’s. “It’s what friends are for, right?” He cringes inwardly at the word he uses. Friends. 
“You’re too good to me,” you mumble. 
“Nonsense, honey,” he hushes you. “Sit up, turn around. I’ve got you.” 
You trust Joel completely. He can be rough around the edges, but you know how soft and nurturing he is on the inside. Joel is meant for this, taking care of the people he loves. 
He spreads his legs and you lean back into the soft warmth of his torso, holding onto his denim clad thighs. He’s awkward to start, still unsure of how to do this, exactly. You take his hands and drag them up, up your tummy, stopping for a second to savor the heat from his palms radiating through to your abdomen, then continue pushing them up your body. You stop just before your breasts, his thumbs lightly tracing the soft flesh of your tits.
“You ready?” he asks, his voice steady and calm but slightly nervous. He wonders if you can hear the way his voice is wavering slightly. 
“Mhm,” you mumble. 
And then he gets to work. Gently, timidly, he runs his hands over the soft flesh of your breasts, then your nipples. You groan at the contact on your sensitive buds. He squeezes gently, then increases pressure experimentally. He can feel how swollen you are as he explores every inch of your chest. 
“Doin’ alright?” he asks, fingers and thumbs digging deep into your breasts. He massages you intently and with such tenderness, his gentle caretaking instincts taking over. 
It hurts so fucking good. The ache is amplified yet dissipates with each motion of his palms. “Yeah, harder. Don’t stop,” you plead desperately. 
Joel swallows thickly and increases pressure again. “Like this?”
“Just like that, Joel. So good,”
God, how sinful you sound. Whimpering and moaning for him, begging for more. Shit, not now. Not fucking now, he thinks as his cock begins to harden under you. “Fucking moron,” he whispers. 
“What?” 
Joel freezes. “Shit. I uh, wasn’t callin’ you a moron. Sorry,” he apologizes gruffly. “It’s me. I’m the moron.”
“Why are you a moron?”
“I’m gettin’ a bit hard. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He feels heat rise up his neck and to his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to.”
“My tits are in your hands, Joel, I get it. I don’t mind,” you assure him. You feel his cock half hard, pressing into your lower back and you shift a little. You both notice how he grows harder at your adjustment.
Joel chuckles awkwardly, trying to break the tension. “I’m only a man, hon. Can’t help it,” 
“You’re okay, Joel. I promise,” You chuckle with him, sighing and resting your head back on his chest again as he starts massaging you once more. The stubble on his jaw tickles your face, his chest rises and falls with every second. You share a moment in the silence, made slightly awkward by Joel’s arousal. You wince as another strong cramp overtakes your body, and you curl up into Joel.
“Cramps?”
“Cramps,” you mumble. “I don’t think you can massage those away, though.”
“No, probably not,” he mumbles. “Not with my hands, at least.”
“With what, then?”
Did he really just say that? You really are a fucking moron, Miller. 
“At Maria’s today, she told me a way to alleviate cramps,” he starts, speaking slowly, like he’s whispering a secret that’s not his to tell. 
“How?”
“Orgasms,” he whispers stiffly. He presses his lips together in a thin line and looks up towards the ceiling. 
“Oh,”
“I could give you some privacy if you wanted to try that out,” he mumbles. 
“Why would you do that?” you turn to look at Joel, who is bashful and looking down. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you continue, “Didn’t you just say you could make the cramps go away, just not with your hands?”
“W-well, yeah, but,” he stutters. 
“I have been so fucking horny. And you’re hard too, so,”
Joel’s eyebrow is still raised, he’s eyeing you suspiciously. “Are you askin’ what I think you’re askin’?”
“You already washed my bloody panties. I’m guessing blood isn’t an issue for you,”
“No, no. ‘Course not. You want me to fuck you?”
“Yeah, you know. For science. For the sake of experimentation,”
Joel smirks mischievously. “Nothin’ wrong with a little experimentin’,” he agrees. You smile at the twang of his Texas accent. 
You share another awkward moment, both unsure of how to continue this scientific endeavor. Joel makes the first move this time. “Come here,” he breathes, lifting you into his lap. “Kiss me.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, intertwining your fingers in the grey-brown curls at the base of his neck. His hands are on your waist, holding you steady with your thighs straddling his. He leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips are slightly chapped but so deliciously soft and warm against yours. He tastes like himself and nothing more, but his taste is addictive nonetheless. 
You grind your pelvis into his bulge, whimpering at the contact on your sensitive heat. You’re craving more than his kisses, needing to feel all of him. His weight on your body, his skin on yours. His member deep inside you, massaging that spot that makes your head spin. “More,” you whine. 
He hums in amusement against your lips, thrusting his hips into yours. Cheeky motherfucker. 
You swat his arm lightly. “Don’t tease, Joel. I need you,”
“I know ya do. Let’s get you warmed up then, hm?” you nod hurriedly, leaning back. Joel pulls you back in for a kiss, his hand snaking under both your sweatpants and panties. “This alright?”
“Yes, fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers dip further, gathering your wetness and circling back up to your clit. He traces slow, steady circles into your bud, taking his time with you. He pushes his middle two fingers deep inside you, fingers curling up and hitting that sweet spot. You gasp and whimper into his mouth. 
Joel loves taking his time with you. Playing with your body like a musical instrument, eliciting moans and whimpers from deep inside. Watching you dance for him, falling to pieces under his touch. 
“So pretty like this,” he praises you. 
You kiss him again and hop off his lap, he pulls his hand away from your core, quickly hiding it from your sight. He doesn’t need you feeling any shame or embarrassment of your body doing what it was meant to do. “Get a towel?” you ask him. 
“‘Course, honey,” Joel sits up and grabs a towel from the linen closet, then walks back to your room. He shuts and locks the door behind him before laying the towel down on the bed. You stand up to meet him, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling off his shirt. He does the same to you, helping you out of your sweats and shirt. You quickly sit down on the towel and he stands before you, cock rock hard, admiring all of the curves of your figure. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”
You blush and reach forward to pull him to you. “So are you,” you tell him earnestly. He steps toward you and pushes you back, getting ready to enter you. You put a hand on his chest to stop him. 
“Is everything okay?” his dark brown eyes are big and full of worry. 
“Of course,” you say. “I’m not ready yet. I wanted to taste you,” you admit.
Joel smirks.  “You’re the one bleedin’ and cryin’ in pain, and you wanna taste me?”
You smile back. “For science, right?”
“Sure, sweetheart. For science,” Joel sits next to the towel, you lean over his lap and get ready to take him into your mouth. “Ah ah ah,” he tuts, “Like this.” Sitting next to him on the towel, he instructs you to face him and spread your legs. This way, he says, he can take care of you too. 
You lean over, making sure your heat is still accessible to him. Joel leans back onto the pillows and lets you get to work, his fingers tracing up your thigh before meeting your center once more. Your lips part around his member, tracing the soft and warm skin with your tongue. You moan when his fingers enter you again, voice sending vibrations through his cock. “Fuck, honey,” he groans. 
You play with each other like that for a while, Joel working you open with his fingers and you taking him further and further down your throat. His cock twitches, engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth. 
“Stop, stop,” he begs. “Not gonna last.”
You pull off of him with a pop, and his hands leave your body. You whine at the loss. 
“I know,” he soothes. “C’mere.” Once again, you’re in his lap, hovering over his cock. It’s held loosely between his fingers, tip prodding at your entrance. “Ready?” he asks you, his sparkly brown eyes are looking up at you, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.
“I need you,” you whisper desperately. And with that, Joel notches the tip at your entrance, carefully studying your features to make sure it’s not too much, not too fast, not painful. You steady yourself on his shoulders, fingernails indenting his skin. He pulls your hips down slowly, letting you savor every inch of him. He bottoms out with a deep sigh, and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his. 
“Wait,” he interrupts. You frown with concern, and he bucks his hips up. You let out a yelp, partially in pleasure, partially in surprise. Joel pulls the towel under you both. “There.”
You giggle. “Good idea,” you whisper. You stare down at him, a slight smile on his lips. You start to roll your hips, letting your clit brush the thick tuft of dark hair at the base of his cock. You whimper at the feeling. 
“Feel good, baby?” Joel asks expectedly. 
“So good, Joel” you assure him. “You feel so good,”
Joel pulls your body down to his, letting you rest on your knees. He thrusts into you rhythmically, letting you relax against him. “Fuck, you feel nice, honey. Knew you would,”
You moan and cry, kissing and whimpering into his neck. Using your sounds and the way your body reacts to his touch, he fucks you hard, intently, but gently at the same time. It’s delicious. 
You rock your hips, bouncing on his cock to match each of his thrusts. He hits that sweet spot in you repeatedly, he can feel your walls squeezing him, hear your moans becoming quicker, more frantic. “God, you’re sensitive,” he says. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Fuck, yes,” you whimper. “M’close, need t-to come,” 
“You can let go,” he speaks softly, voice low and gravelly. “Come for me, baby,”
You lean back, lifting your hips slightly to give his fingers access to your clit. He takes the hint and begins circling your sensitive bud once more. It doesn’t take long before you’re falling apart on his cock, your cries and moans muffled as you bite into his shoulder. 
“That’s it,” he coos, fucking you through it. 
You try to take a second to catch your breath, steady yourself, only Joel has something different in mind. He doesn’t stop fucking your pussy, overworked and overstimulated. Within minutes, you’re coming again, your pussy making a beautiful crimson mess on his pelvis and fingertips. Still fucking you, he watches you come like you’re a work of art in a museum. Taking in every detail, every twitch of your face, the way your mouth drops in pleasure, how your tits bounce with each thrust. 
“Too much, Joel,” you cry. “S’too much, please.”
“You give me one more, baby. C’mon now, want you to come with me,”
“I can’t,” you pant. “I can-” 
“Yes, you can,” he encourages firmly. His voice is sweet but stern, and it is clear your pleasure is not to be negotiated. You will come again. “One more, one more. S’all you gotta do.”
“Fuck, Joel,” 
“I know, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” 
It’s almost painful, but you focus on the pleasure building once again deep inside you. You rock your hips, grinding your clit on the pads of Joel’s calloused fingertips. Right there, right there…
“You’re makin’ such a pretty mess of this cock, darlin’. Wanna fill you up, baby,”
His sweet talking sends you reeling, you love the way he praises you. “M’close again,” 
“Right there with ya, baby,” he soothes. His thrusts are frenzied, cock throbbing inside you. “Now, baby,” he commands. “Fuck, need you to come now.”
Moans and cries spill out of your mouth like liquid sugar, thick and sweet and slow. You come on Joel’s cock for a third time, your body melting into his own. He comes with you, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours to create the most beautiful sounds to fill the room. His voice is deep and desperate, sounding like pure sex as he paints your insides with rope after rope of his seed. 
You slink on top of him, focusing on catching your breath. His skin is sticky and sweaty as he holds you in a tight embrace, his heaving chest lifting you up and down. He pulls out of you, a mess of your fluids dripping onto the towel. You curl up next to him, your head on his chest.
“Cramps?” he asks. 
You shake your head. “All better,” you pause, then speak. “But hold me some more? Please?”
“‘Course, honey. For science, right?”
You smirk. “For science,”
You lay like that for what feels like hours, Joel stroking your back tenderly. One of his strong arms wrapped around your body, his warm hand pressing into your back. His other hand is holding your own, fingers squeezing you comfortingly, thumb tracing back and forth. He presses soft kisses to your forehead, your lips. He’s loving you gently, sweetly, the way you so deserve.
tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl
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teamatsumu · 10 months
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you are part of me. (gojo satoru x reader)
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summary: when gojo satoru loves, he is loud about it. and he doesn’t care if you don’t love him back.
word count: 3604
warnings: fem!reader, friends to lovers, very mild angst, swearing, gojo being gojo, canon compliant storyline
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Gojo Satoru enters your life at 16 years old.
His presence suffocates the room, his cursed energy is something not best ignored. Quiet, yet noticeable. Like something that’s bubbling just under the surface. It’s almost as if a very dangerous animal has been reigned in, held back on a leash. That’s how his cursed energy feels to you. You, who is a mere novice. New to the world of curses and sorcery, landing in Jujutsu Tech after everything near and dear to you was ripped from you by this world.
He intimidates you.
He is loud, lean, but very tall. He demands attention when he walks into a room. He is jovial, a little aloof (you're not sure if it’s on purpose), big goofy grin and round, almost comical sunglasses. His hair is so bright, and his eyes are so blue, it’s almost blinding to look at him.
He is everything that you are not.
He is a year older, and your classmate Haibara can never stop talking about him and Geto. Nanami does not enjoy being around them, but he holds them in regard because they are his seniors. Shoko might be the only one he truly respects, and that almost makes you fear her. You make up your mind to try and stay as invisible as possible around them. You do not enjoy the spotlight.
Unfortunately, Gojo thrives in the spotlight, and he has a knack for pulling other people into it with him.
“Oh hello. Fresh meat?” He is grinning down at you, eyes barely visible behind the dark, circular lenses. “And aren’t you cute. You better toughen up sweetcheeks, or the big bad curses are gonna eat you up.”
You don’t know what exactly he means. You’re too caught up in the fact that he called you cute. It makes you heat up under the collar of your brand new jujutsu uniform. And his intense stare makes you fidget.
You do not like it.
You just frown at him and turn away, taking advantage of the fact that Nanami was leaving the room and going along with him. You don’t notice how he stares at the back of your head as you leave, but Geto sure does. The raven haired boy lets out a pained sigh before leaning back on the creaky classroom chair.
“Here we go.”
Gojo hums questioningly, glancing at his best friend once you have left the room.
“You’re going to fixate on her now. And you’re going to be an insufferable prick about it.”
Gojo doesn’t deny it. He merely settles into a chair of his own, feeling the corners of his lips twitch.
……………….
Life at Jujutsu Tech isn’t as bad as you expected.
Your room is spacious enough to hold all your belongings. It has a nice view of the gardens, and is warm enough that you sleep comfortably through the nights. Your classmates are easy to get along with. Haibara loves carrying the conversation, and while Nanami isn’t as energetic, he shares a lot of your interests so you love talking to him.
The deep, sorrowful ache in your chest is slowly subsiding. Very slowly. Oftentimes, you remember your old life. You remember the smiles on your parents’ faces, and you shed tears in the late hours of the night. But they are gone. And you are here. You can’t do anything about it.
And then there’s Gojo Satoru.
For someone who is apparently the ‘strongest’, part of a major jujutsu clan and heir to the infamous Six Eyes, you would think he would be a busy person. But somehow, he finds a way to always be lazing around the campus, and unfortunately, he loves engaging you in conversation.
“Fresh meat!” He hasn’t stopped calling you that. He hasn’t even learned your name. Or introduced himself. Of course, you already know who he is. But it would be the polite thing to do, wouldn’t it?
You would soon learn that Gojo Satoru has no manners, and no amount of scolding could teach him any.
“Heard you took down a fourth grade all by yourself. Congratulations!”
You eye him with a scowl, while all he does is grin back at you.
“You’re mocking me, senpai.”
Gojo places a hand on his chest, gasping so loud it was comical, acting shocked at your accusation.
“I would never!”
You sigh deeply, a regular habit you have developed since the boy had decided to shadow you, continuing to make your way back to your room as he trails behind you. While a fourth grade may not be a big deal to someone like Gojo, it is to you, who has never interacted with, let alone fought a curse.
You open your room door, stepping in and looking back to stare at your senior as he smiles down at you. You wait for him to say something cheeky like he usually does, about how you should invite him in so you can hang out, or his usual ‘let me take you out to dinner’, which he loves tossing around whenever he sees an opening.
“I’m real proud of ya, sweetcheeks.” He says instead, and his voice is softer, having lost the sharp edge that it usually carries.
There it is again, the heat under your collar. The little knot in your throat.
You close your room door in his face.
………………
“He likes you.”
“He doesn’t. He just likes to annoy me.”
“That’s his way of spending time with you.”
“I’d rather he leave me alone, then.”
“That’s an impossible ask.”
The chocolate icing on your brownie melts in your mouth as you chew on it, giving a disdainful look to Utahime who is apparently hell bent on proving this nonexistent crush Gojo seems to have on you. You don’t believe her. Mostly because you don’t think Gojo is capable of liking you, of all people. You also doubt his ability to genuinely give a shit about anyone that isn’t his closest friends. You’re just some underclassman that he thinks is fun to pester every now and then.
(‘Every now and then’ in this context means ‘every possible second of every day’.)
Utahime takes a big gulp on her coffee, and you have to wonder why the hot liquid doesn’t burn her throat as it goes down. Your phone pings again, for the seventh time in the last half hour, and Utahime stares pointedly at the unsaved number on your screen. You swipe the phone off the table quickly and flip the switch to ‘silent mode’.
“You haven’t saved his number? Ouch. He’s not gonna like that.”
You roll your eyes and glare at the screen of your phone. How long has he been texting you with random crap?
“I don’t give a shit what he likes.”
“You will. When he whines about it and never lets it go for the rest of your life.”
You sigh defeatedly and give your friend pleading eyes. “Can we please talk about something else? I see and hear Gojo enough during the day. I don’t need to talk about him with you too.”
When your friend agrees, you are blessed with a wonderful, Gojo-free afternoon of chatting, shopping and excessive eating. You’re still buzzing as you climb up the steps to Jujutsu Tech at sundown, rummaging through the tote bag where you had dropped all your little purchases. Just small knick knacks that made you happy to look at.
“Did ya get me anything?”
You yelp and jump, nearly falling off the step behind you but catching yourself before you can faceplant on the concrete. Gojo lets out an annoying cackle at your reaction, making you glare up at him.
“What is wrong with you?! I could’ve gotten seriously injured!”
He scoffs, walking the few steps between you two, hands buried in his pants pockets. “Like I would let that happen. You gotta trust me more, sweetcheeks.”
You ignore the now familiar way your ears and neck heat up, choosing to walk past him and continue your way up the steps.
“So? Got me anything?”
You groan internally, knowing he wouldn’t leave this alone. If you say no, he will complain about how he isn’t important enough in your life to warrant a little gift. If you then say he isn’t, that will result in even worse (and louder) whining, and you don’t have the energy to deal with that right now. You scramble through the bag slung over your shoulder, pulling out a cute carrot shaped pen with a smiley face on it. You had gotten two pens, one carrot shaped and one that looked like corn. You just thought they were insanely cute. It’s okay. You can afford to lose one.
Gojo eyes the pen when you hand it to him. “Why did ya get me this?”
He clearly knows you just pulled a random object out. He just wants to see what you will say.
“It’s…. tall and thin. You’re tall and thin.” You deadpan.
Gojo snorts, seeing through your very obvious lie. “You love me so much, don’t you?”
You stop in your tracks, watching Gojo’s back as he keeps walking, unaffected by your shocked gaze.
“Senpai-”
“See ya tomorrow!” He calls, twiddling the pen around his fingers as he disappears near the landing of the stairs.
Your heart races at his words. You feel angry and frustrated. But you’re not sure at whom.
………………….
When it’s Shoko’s birthday, you are forced to be around Gojo all day.
It’s a harrowing experience, one that can only be withstood by god’s toughest soldier, and god thinks that is you, apparently, because as per his usual habits, Gojo doesn’t leave you alone.
“Oh, this is nothing.” Geto comments, sipping on some fruity punch that you are almost sure contains alcohol. Both of you watch as Gojo tries to tie a conical party hat on Nanami’s head, while the boy in question puts up a valiant fight to try and keep his upperclassman at bay.
“He once had a crush on the daughter of some prominent gang leader in Tokyo. Almost landed himself in jail with the kind of stunts he pulled.”
You blink at him, watching as he brushes some strands of black hair off his face. “Seriously?”
He nods, smirking at your shocked silence, watching the gears in your head turn. “Don’t worry, he won’t do that to you.”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “What makes you sure of that?”
Geto shrugs, watching the way Gojo’s eyes flit to you every now and then. You fail to notice it, too caught up in making up scenarios in your head where Gojo does something potentially illegal and lands both of you in serious trouble.
“You’re different.” Is his simple reply. It does nothing but confuse you more.
Later in the night, Shoko forces you to down an alcoholic drink. You sputter on the horrific taste of it, trying to get out from under her hold as she laughs at your reaction. Haibara enjoys your misery just as much, while Nanami’s face is blank. You are sure he is trying to erase tonight from his memory entirely.
The night is cold, but your hands are warm and your head is buzzing with happiness. Your cheeks hurt from the constant smiling and laughing. Every now and then, your eyes would meet brilliant blue ones. You are so cheerful that you even giggle when Gojo makes some lame pun at Geto’s expense. So cheerful, in fact, that you don’t protest when he decides he wants to walk you to your room.
You hum the song you had sung karaoke to, walking without so much as a thought in your head. Gojo is munching on a mini chocolate bar, one hand in his pocket. For once, he is silent.
When you stop at your door, you turn to look at him, trying to search his eyes. You find nothing, and you feel the sudden urge to know more about him. Geto’s words roam through your head.
“Senpai,” You whisper. “Why am I different?”
He smiles then, not his usual toothy grin, but softer, kinder. It makes him look even younger than he is. Somehow, it seems he knows exactly what you mean.
“Because I’m in love with ya, sweetcheeks.”
He leaves it at that. And you don’t ask any follow up questions.
……………………..
Gojo’s love is loud.
He never says the word after that one night. But he never exactly negates his declaration. He continues to be around you as much as possible. He loves pinching at your cheeks until they sting, loves draping an arm over your shoulder and laying a sloppy kiss on it when he can get away with it. He is much taller and stronger than you, so pushing him away does nothing except spur him on even more. You realize that he is naturally a very touchy-feely person, so you dismiss his affection as just him being annoying as hell. Both of you settle into a strange dynamic, one where he teases you endlessly and you try not to appear affected by it.
It’s unconventional but it works. You will even go as far as saying that he is your friend.
When you refer to him as such, he stares at you mouth agape, before letting out a big whoop and crushing you into a hug. You protest his grip and try to free yourself, failing as usual. Deep in your chest, your heart stutters at his proximity.
Gojo Satoru doesn’t have a single subtle bone in his body.
He introduces you as his girlfriend to curses, claiming it doesn’t matter because they are all stupid and can’t understand him anyway, so he can say what he wants. Besides, he’s gonna kill them mere minutes later. You don’t even know where to begin to fight his logic on that, so you just facepalm and let him do it, provided he doesn’t say it in front of actual people.
“You say it like being my girlfriend would be so bad.”
“It would be the worst thing known to mankind. I would kill myself actually.”
That earns you a very strong pinch on the cheek, one that has you yelping and pushing him away. It leaves behind a red mark that makes you hold back a smile every time you see it in the mirror.
Sometimes you wonder how easy it is for him to talk to you like this. He seems to not have an ounce of fear of rejection, no matter how many times you have told him that you aren’t interested. Like he is confident that it simply isn’t true. He makes it seem effortless, to attach himself to you and declare that you’re his ‘favorite’ person and one day he would be your favorite person too.
You try to ignore how accurate you think that is. And how close he is to actually becoming your favorite person. You can’t possibly let him find that out. He would become even more unbearably smug than he already is.
And so you continue to bask in this…. strange limbo. You warm yourself in the glaringly bright light of Gojo Satoru. And you secretly pray that it never goes away.
When Geto defects, you almost lose him.
You find him on the steps of Jujutsu High, staring out at god knows what, completely silent. In your years of knowing him, you had never seen him sit in one place for so long. He doesn’t even budge when you sit next to him. You don’t say a word. And neither does he.
The wind moves gently through his silver locks. The blue in his eyes has dulled and darkened. You sit on those steps for hours.
Something changes between you two after that evening. Somehow, Gojo is more…. human to you now. You see him struggle to come to terms with what has happened, to truly realise the unfair responsibility that he bears on his shoulders as the strongest sorcerer in the Jujutsu world. You sees how that changes him, how it dims him, and how he matures in that time.
Yet Gojo is still Gojo. Even years later, he continues to love you loudly and proudly. He is still constantly attached at the hip to you, even more so in your adult years now that you live off campus. He is somehow always at your place, even after you take away his emergency key because he never uses it for emergencies. There is a ‘Gojo drawer’ in your storage closet, huge bathroom slippers and an extra toothbrush. His preferred brand of shampoo and conditioner are housing in your cabinet, spares that he keeps for when he crashes in your guest bedroom.
(Let’s be honest. It’s less of a guest bedroom and more so Gojo’s room at this point).
You commute to work together in the mornings, which you think is funny since Gojo can just teleport wherever he wants. He says it’s because he wants to spend more time with you.
Oh yeah, he still constantly says he is in love with you.
Years and years after his first declaration, Gojo has still not budged. At this point you are so used to it that it doesn’t bother you anymore. Like it’s second nature. Like Gojo is meant to love you. Like there was never any doubt about it. Your mutual friends have accepted it too by now. No one bats an eye when Gojo whines about missing you. Or when he waltzes into your on-campus office claiming “two hours is enough time for us to be apart”.
You don’t know when exactly it settles over you. How important Gojo is to you. How you can’t go a day without him. How you get pissy and irritable when he goes on missions overseas that take weeks at a time. The transition is so smooth that sometimes you think you were always meant to love Gojo, just like he was always meant to love you.
‘Senpai’ becomes ‘Gojo-san’. Which becomes Satoru’.
It never occurred to you that Gojo was still, technically, a friend. You were with him so often, bickering and snickering, cuddling and lounging around. He was a part of you, like you were a part of him.
Then you hear words that shock you to your very core.
“In my eyes, you two are already married.”
Never in a million years would you have expected Ijichi to say those words. Everyone else is one thing. But fucking Ijichi?
You stare at the back of his head when he says them, the silence in the car deafening. You know Ijichi well enough to be certain he isn’t saying these words falsely, even if he means them lightheartedly. If this is what Ijichi truly thinks, then….. Is it what things are actually like?
It takes only a few minutes of reflection for you to realise that he isn’t far off. Gojo is so deeply ingrained in every nook and cranny of your life that it is beyond irreversible now. There is no way to untangle your lives. He is part of you, just as you are part of him.
It’s almost as if the universe is nodding in confirmation when you open the door to your apartment and find Gojo sprawled on the couch, flipping through TV channels. He is wearing sweatpants and a black T-shirt that looks unfairly good on him, especially since he clearly isn’t trying at all.
He stands up and you notice on the coffee table before him that he has laid out a myriad of snacks, both savory and sweet to cater for your varying taste buds. You spot at least three of your preferred treats in them. Your heart beat slows down, settles. Like you are at peace again. You feel a warmth under your collar. One that you haven’t felt since you were a wee teenager just stepping onto the Jujutsu High campus. You eye the back of Gojo’s head.
“Hey.” He calls, barely glancing back at you, eyeing his treasured snack collection as if contemplating which one he should start with. “Some shitty American reality show is on. You wanna make fun of ‘em together?”
He turns to look at you when you don’t respond, raising an eyebrow. Brilliant blue eyes bore into you.
“You okay?”
You walk closer to him, still silent, until he is mere inches from you, craning your head up to look at him. The background noise from the TV gets tuned out.
“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”
Gojo blinks. “I’d kiss you back.”
Your breath hitches. The knot in your throat tightens. No hesitation. No shock. Not so much as a stir. It’s like you’re asking him what to make for dinner.
“Okay.” You whisper. And then you’re leaning up, pressing your lips to his.
His hand reaches up to cup the back of your neck. The other stabilizes you at the waist. His lips are soft and smooth, almost dainty, slowly picking up intensity as he presses closer to you. Your heart is racing a mile a minute, and as you press closer to him, you feel that his is just the same, the only indication that he is affected by you just as you are by him.
When your lips part, you don’t open your eyes. Your foreheads touch and you let yourself feel, truly feel, the effects of his touch on you.
“I love you.”
Gojo’s smile is soft. His touch is tender. Comforting. Familiar. “I know.”
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superectojazzmage · 1 month
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Just back from Alien Romulus and hoooo boy oh boy. Review/analysis.
Easily the best Alien movie since the first two, which isn't saying much, yeah, but it is legit a really cool and well-made movie, competing with Late Night With The Devil, Longlegs, and Cuckoo for title of my favorite horror movie this year.
In a lot of ways it's about harvesting the few good ideas from the post-2 movies that were squandered and doing them right, plus getting the series back to it's healthier roots, kinda the movie equivalent of someone doing physical therapy to get back in the saddle after an injury. This means it's not quite brand new ground like some may hope for and I've heard some people feel it gets a little derivative at points because of it. I can kinda agree and certainly understand that criticism, but I feel it does what it's aiming for really well and sets things up for future works to go in even crazier directions. Furthermore, it takes a lot of time to try and weld together the disparate post-2 movies in a way that brings the series back to a little coherency.
The atmosphere is really intense and cool, swinging between lovecraftian dread and build-up and high-energy chaos. The aesthetics and special effects are gorgeous, taking full advantage of the progress that technology has made since 2 plus really digging in to the used cassette future vibe of the older films. The characters are likable and actually intelligent (or at least understandable) in behavior like in the first two movies, so you care about what's happening to them instead of just waiting for them to get munched. The action and kills were really cool and creative, the cinematography in general was off-kilter in an awesome way - there's a definite attempt to make the movie feel claustrophobic and intimate. Fede Alvarez did a fantastic job in general, I'd love to see him do more with the series.
It REALLY cranks up the series' psychosexual, freudian, and sexual assault subtext, arguably to a point where it's just plain text. So if you're sensitive to stuff like that or if this is your first go at Alien, be warned for that.
More specific notes go under the header for spoilers. Highly recommend you go in as blind as you can.
Andy and Rain were wonderful leads, their dynamic was fantastic and Calie Spaeny and David Jonsson both turned in great performances. I direly hope they join the first two films' casts as "major" characters for the series going forward.
The effects to make Daniel Betts look like Ian Holms were quite possibly the one and only time the special effects failed. It looks very wonky, which is sad because Betts does a really good job copying Holms' mannerisms for Ash while still making Rook feel like a distinct character.
In addition to the usual themes of sexual unease, genetics, and parenthood, this movie adds in some really interesting themes of familial legacy, the rise of new generations, foundations, etc.. Andy and Rain are like Romulus and Remus of myth, orphaned and left to fend for themselves but growing into founders of a new age - both in-story with their carrying the XX121 substance and evidence of Weyland-Yutani's misdeeds to Yvaga and out-of-story with them being the protagonists of a new era for Alien. Likewise, the Offspring is the first example of an entirely new species, neither human nor alien but taking from the lineages of both through Kay and Big Chap, a Romulus-like founder of it's breed that will later bear fruit in Resurrection with the Ripley clone and Newborn.
I'm really not kidding when I say above that the psychosexual undercurrents are taken to the extreme here. This movie basically sees the ways the original film subtly pin-pricked at those themes, says "fuck that", and deliberately rubs it in your face in a way designed to make sure you can't ignore it. It wants you to be grossed out and to squirm in your chair and it knows exactly how to make it happen.
Alvarez noted in the lead-up to release that he took a lot of influence from Isolation and you can definitely see that in how he depicts the Xenomorphs and the general aura of the film. He further described it as a kind of halfway point between the first and second movies and you can also see that; it has the Lovecraft-style tension and horror of the first, balanced with the energy and action of the second, and it does a really good job finding a middle ground between Ridley Scott and James Cameron's styles while also doing it's own dance.
I mentioned way back at the start how the movie basically harvests the good ideas from 3, Resurrection, Prometheus, and Covenant and gives them the room they deserve while dumping the bad. It does that in both terms of themes/style and continuity/lore. Concepts that those movies bungled like xeno-human hybridism, the black goo, genetic engineering as a focus, and so on are done here more creatively and competently. Themes that those films tried and failed to tackle are handled with significantly more grace. It has the atmosphere and characterization of 3 but none of it's baggage and needlessly depressive tone. It has the body horror and weirdness of Resurrection without taking it to the zany, embarrassing areas that movie went. The effects and creativity of Prometheus and Covenant without any of their awful writing and clumsy messages. Alvarez takes on kind of an Al Ewing-esque "repairman" writing style here.
The Xenomorphs are absolutely deranged in behavior compared to most portrayals, attacking like either cruel sadists or raging chimps and rarely bothering to take hosts. I'm not sure if such a reading was intended, but I got the vibe that the idea is Xenos raised without a queen or hive grow to be basically sociopathic like how real world predatory animals grown without parental figures become feral and dysfunctional. Which would also explain a lot about how the Xeno in the original movie, Big Chap, acts there.
The Offspring's design is fucking wicked and I love it.
One of my few major criticisms is that Big Chap died off-screen instead of getting more to do. What was the point of having him be alive at the start if he wasn't gonna be used beyond a backstory point to set up the main story?
All in all, a very impressive effort and a great return to form for the series that I recommend highly.
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luveline · 1 year
Note
hey pookie bear❤️❤️ i was wondering if u could do james x reader but enemies to lovers/one bed troupe, i can’t find enemies to lovers with james very often and my mind is craving it. thank you ily❤️❤️
hey!! ily tysm for requesting!!! —you and co-worker!james share a hotel room for the night. fem!reader, 1.5k
James Potter is the most insufferable, arrogant, suffocating boy you've ever met in your entire life, so when you hear you'll be sharing a room with him tonight, you shut down. Total icy silence. If he wants conversation, he can ring one of his irritating mates. 
It feels borderline illegal to have your workplace make you share a room considering, but you're adults, and the trip was supposedly all inclusive. Not even the most luxurious per diem could make this worth it, though. 
James lays in the middle of the bed, arms behind his head, skin awash by lamplight and hair a dark halo against the crisp white linens. He grins at you and you despise how handsome he is. Handsome, and such a fucking prick of a man. 
"Won't you join me?" he teases. 
You've kept your vow to ignore him until that point. "Please don't lie on my side of the bed." 
He moves over, looking startlingly apologetic. You'd believe he was repentant, but he asks, "What's the point? You'll be in my arms sooner or later." 
You nibble the inside of your lip. He agitates you, he irks you, but you know James is a good guy. His irritating mates are the same. When you joined the office, he made sure they all remembered to celebrate your birthday though it'd only been a few weeks. When you fell up the icy steps on the way in one morning, James didn't take the piss. He helped you up into the doorway and frowned at your bloody knees and ripped tights like they physically pained him.  
"Do you want to shower first?" you ask. 
"I shower in the mornings. Thank you. But I can strip down now if you'd like." 
"James, please," you say, rubbing your eyes. You'd usually have something much more biting to say, but you're tired. At the last second, you summon the energy. "No one wants to see that." 
He glares at you like he's remembered he doesn't like you. 
"Cruel." 
He leans over the edge of the bed and pulls a book out of his suitcase where it lays in arm's reach. 
"I didn't know you could read," you add. 
"Points off for awfulness. Put your jammies on, shortcake, I wanna see what you packed." 
He's being a creep to annoy you. It's working. You grab your pyjamas and a change of underwear and leave his presence to the small bathroom for a quick shower. You take your time to dry off. It's too big a wish to have him be sleeping when you emerge, and sure enough, he's wide awake but changed into his own pyjamas, plaid bottoms and a white t-shirt. 
"Now I know you're obsessed with me," he says, raising his eyebrows over the pages of his book. 
You cross your arms self consciously over your near identical pyjamas, the bathroom door closing behind you. 
James waits for you to put your dirty clothes in your suitcase before piping up again. "You look adorable." 
"Fuck off, please." 
He snorts and kicks the sheets down the length of the bed. Stretching with a groan that makes your stomach hurt, he puts his novel tented down on the nightstand. His glasses are next. He looks different without them but no less handsome. If anything, the eagle shape of his nose is more pronounced without them, as is the little pink scar on his cheek, stark against his brown skin. 
"You're an awful roommate," he says decisively, "you use all the hot water, you leave the windows open, as now you're ogling me. I feel rather objectified." 
You avert your eyes guiltily. "You might want to take your temperature. You likely have a fever, considering how delusional you're acting."
"Ooh, burn." 
Face hot with spite, you push back the sheets on your side of the bed and turn off your lamp. After a second, James turns off his. 
"You're not brushing your teeth?" you ask. Your voice lacks a specific bite, fatigue kicking in. 
"Did while you were in the bathroom." 
"What'd you do with the toothpaste spit?" 
"Swallowed it." 
You laugh. It sounds much too friendly, and you hate it. "You're disgusting," you mutter. 
You slide down flat on your back and pull the sheets over your legs and stomach, more than aware of his nearness and the heat of his body already waiting for you under the thin quilt. He smells nice, this close. Like deodorant, mint, but something else that snags your attention. 
You hate him so much sometimes —he steals your pens constantly from your desk, he never offers you a cup of coffee even when he's making them for everyone else, and he's lazy. He doesn't do his third of the finances on time. He nudges his desk into yours to make your small figurines fall over and calls it 'earthquake training'. They're fucking plastic. James Potter drives you up the goddamn wall, and being close to someone like this couldn't be more awkward. You're stiff as a board. 
"I was only kidding earlier," James says. He's quiet, but so is the room. He might as well yell. "I wouldn't lay a finger on you if you didn't want me to." 
"You gave me a snakebite three days ago." 
"I thought you had a bug on you," he says furiously, having had this argument already. "That's not the point. If you want me to sleep on the floor, I'll do that. I have no intention of making you uncomfortable." 
"You've already failed, then." 
He sighs. "I can go sleep on the floor in Sirius and Remus' room." 
"They wouldn't have you in the bed?" you joke lightly. They have a close friendship. It's nice, even though you might pretend they're a throuple whenever single girls visit the office to ruin his chances. 
"Oh, they probably would." 
"It's fine. Don't… don't bother. It's not a big deal for me if it isn't for you. I know you wouldn't try anything." 
"Yeah?" 
"Of course. You're a bitch, but I don't believe you're that kind." 
James laughs loudly, his chuckles shaking the mattress. You swear you can feel his eyes on your face, though the room is bathed in darkness and the strings of scarce red light blinking from the alarm clock. 
"Good. I'm not that kind of bitch," he agrees. 
"Well. Goodnight." 
"Yeah, goodnight, shortcake." 
You roll your eyes at his nickname. Whether your short or tall isn't his concern, James calls you shortcake because he's very tall, and he holds that against you often like a schoolyard tease, papers held out of reach, your figurines hidden in alcoves or on top of cabinets.
You turn onto your favoured side and try not to care that you're facing him. James falls asleep first, his breath slowing until a snore emerges, his weight dipping the cheap mattress. Combined with your own, you start to slide toward one another. 
Fucks sake, you think, edging back. 
Space reestablished between you, you close your eyes and try not to think about what he looks like when he sleeps. As you nod off, you feel the soft skin of a hand curling around your forearm. A quarter circle rubbed into your pulse. 
— 
James wakes first, and he is Oh so thankful. He isn't a pervert, he swears, he has no idea why he's curled around you like this. Hugging your arm to his chest like a teddy, his face curved downward, his nose pressed to your forehead, he wakes and he panics hard. 
You aren't touching him back. Sunlight filters in through shitty translucent blinds and kisses your unassuming face, your lashes lightened, your lips pointed down in sleep. He worries something's upsetting you while you doze. He bites his tongue. 
It's none of his business. None of his business why you're having a restless morning. 
James twists and lets your arm fall naturally back onto the sheets, squinting in the sun at the alarm clock. It's barely five AM. You needn't wake for another two hours but you will, if you keep frowning. 
James holds his breath. Carefully, he settles back onto his side facing you and cups your face. It feels too intimate, too much. He pulls his hand away after half of a second, opting to take your hand again instead. 
He's seen you cry before. Bloody hands and knees, humiliated and cold, you'd sniffled on the steps leading into the office and asked him not to tell anyone. Remus and Sirius know everything there is to know about James. His genuine but waning dislike for you, his budding crush. And yet, after pretty much a lifetime telling them every secret he'd ever come into contact with, James didn't tell them about that. He gave you the packet of tissues from his pocket, and he told you a lie about falling in the exact same place a year before you started working with them. 
The expression you gave him then is the same you wear now as he rubs the palm of your hand with his index fingers. You're comforted. Your unseen unhappiness abates.
James falls asleep like that, drawing shapes into your hand. 
i love him i want him to be my office frenemy. ty for reading!! pls reblog if u enjoyed it means so much to me!
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acapelladitty · 5 months
Note
Cooper gives big sub energy if you open your eyes wide enough, don't you think ditty?
A/N: Maybe not sub energy but please enjoy this little thing where Cooper is forced to eat his partner out for being an ass. (1.7k words)
(tw: face sitting, orgasm, oral sex, dirty talk, threat of violence, biting, come marking, playful snark, mild violence)
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Call Out Loud For You
Link to AO3 series
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Standing at the foot of the large cot which you had both decided to claim as 'home' for the night, your hands felt heavy on your hip as you held your ground against the smug ghoul who lounged against the threadbare sheets.
It had been a rough day. A bounty hunt very quickly went sideways as an isolated raider turned out to be very non-isolated indeed. And his friends weren't willing to give him up without a fight. But, as always, when the dripping blood finally settled and the missing limbs had been counted, it was Cooper and yourself who emerged the victors.
But still.
He had been a prick about it.
"Apologise." You demanded, wounded pride making you determined to get at least that out of him.
Sucking his lips in to unleash a short whistle, Cooper was unrepentant.
"Ain't got nothing to apologise for, so I won't be wasting the words."
His arm is raised overhead, nude body laying out utterly shameless and reddened against the pale sheets. A rogue chain had caught him across the outer thigh and the marks there would take days to heal. Your efforts to help with the injury had been swiftly rebuffed as he realised you were still looking for an apology and he had instead elected to strip off and drop to the cot, claiming it as his own.
For someone who was so vilified and hated due to his appearance, it sure didn't seem to bother him when it suited his mood.
Deprived of your own clothes due to the sweltering heat of the approaching night, you stood before him with equal pride - refusing to back down.
He knew he was in the wrong.
Those little affectionate brushes against your back and casual grabs at your body that had punctuated throughout the day after the doomed raid had screamed his unspoken guilt. But his stubbornness was maddening.
As was how horny his little games had made you.
Fuck it.
You were getting yours, one way or another.
"You always told me that the only thing we get in the world is what we're willing to take."
Proclaiming the sage words from a scowling face, you throw the advice back at him like a horse kicking up dirt.
"That I did."
"Then lie your stupid ass flat out on that cot. Arms by your sides and legs straightened out."
Surprise crosses his face for only a moment before being swiped away by something lecherous as his right hand drops to cup at his cock, the thick length laying half-hard against his upper thigh.
"I don't see how riding this old stallion is going to get your point across but I ain't complaining."
Shaking your head as you climb into the cot, your body slithers up his own like a serpent coiling in the desert heat until you can straddle his waist - making a point to ignore his cock as you sit above it.
"I'm gonna sit on your face and you're gonna eat me out until I forget that I'm mad at you. You're going to treat my cunt like it's your last supper before they execute your stubborn ass."
Narrowing his brow, the missing hole where his nose should be flaring as he inhaled, Cooper shook his head with a somewhat playful defiance; most of his fire having been extinguished by your soft body atop his as his hands immediately flew to your hips and groped at the flesh there.
"The hell I am. That sounds like a sorry to me, darli-"
Your hand makes a resounding crack as it collides with his hollowed cheek. On a regular man, it would leave a livid mark, but on Cooper - his skin already a darker shade than anything you could accomplish - it is truly undetectable.
What is slightly more detectable is the sly smirk which curls at the corners of his ragged lips and the way his pupils seem to dilate as he inhales sharply once more.
"Oh, it's like that is it."
"Damn right." Running your thumb across the ridge of his cheek, neatly atop the area which you had just slapped, you enjoy the rough sensation of his skin against your own as his hands increase their grip of you. "And if I hear any more backtalk then I'll just smother you. End of all my problems."
A thoughtful hum rumbles past his throat, and you feel it through your palm as you spread your fingers across his chest.
"Not the worst way I've died." Cooper admits. "Alright, darlin', hop on. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Shuffling forward, your inner thighs burn as they swipe across his collarbone in their efforts to position yourself so that his face - eyes burning in the shadows of their sockets - was in a prime position to service your eager sex.
"Might be the last meal you get, handsome." Sighing out the words, you spread your knees wide as you take the time to ensure your own comfort. "So don't waste it."
His response is too low for you to pick up properly, the syllables more a growl than anything else, but you can hear the bitchy quality to his tone as he dutifully pushes his mouth up to brush along your cunt.
He immediately sets out to punish you for that earlier slap, sucking at your folds with his lips and teasing the skin with blunted teeth. It's a lot and your fingers curl against the wall which the head of the cot sits against as you resist the urge to press down harshly on his face.
He seems to be enjoying himself though, his tongue licking a sordid line from your hole to your clit in one solid stripe.
"Fuck, Cooper-" You whine, legs tightening around his shoulders as his tongue grazes your clit; a sensation which sends lightning up your spine as your body tenses involuntarily.
Knowing he hit a good spot, he repeats the feat. His roughened lips add a cruel intensity to his movements as he suckles at your most sensitive nerves. It's hot and intense and too fucking much-
Grinding your cunt down onto his face, you momentarily mourn his lack of nose as an amusing image of being able to swipe yourself across it for extra stimulation flits through your mind.
His tongue would do though and you press your cunt against his mouth with vigour, forcing him to abandon your clit and refocus his attention on your hole. You're already painfully wet, his tongue lapping up more moisture than it was providing, and you feel him growl against your sex as he tastes you properly.
A vicious cry slips free of your throat as he disobeys your earlier demands and his calloused hands wrap around your inner thighs, pulling your lips apart to allow him easier access to his apology. His skin is hot as hell, the leathered texture as delightful as ever as his mouth messily latches on to your skin - sucking, biting, licking, and teasing every possible inch of you until your words are broken and incomprehensible.
A sharp pain makes you cry out and you feel the full ache of a bite radiating from your inner thigh, the skin unbroken but no doubt soon to bruise due to the hard treatment. The dual sensation makes your head swim as the pressure of arousal builds in your cunt.
Discomfort and pleasure.
Ecstacy and pain.
Pure Cooper in his most concentrated form.
Nearing completion, you can't help the bucking of your hips as he struggles to hold you into place - your cunt grinding on his mouth and chin as you chase that high.
"Fuck, Cooper. Just so- so fucking good. Need to do this- FUCK- do this more. Put that mouth to good, ugh, use."
It's a babble and a mess. Words stuttering and pitching as his lips find your clit once more and his tongue flicks against the engorged nub, sending you careening over the edge of the abyss.
Hands scrambling against the wall as your orgasm hits, the hot pleasure cascades through your body in waves - tensing and relaxing your frame in sync as you press down on his face. Without much choice, he swallows everything, his busy tongue refusing to let up its devouring of your cunt as your thighs clench around his skull.
Earlier musings blown to the side, you take a moment to appreciate that his nose was missing as your frantic jerking across his face would have probably broken it in several places. You ride your orgasm out against him, allowing him time to breathe when he earns it as his face skilfully tilts to the side to pull in sharp intakes of air.
Eventually the tension in your legs dies out and your cunt grows too overstimulated to be fully enjoyable and you push your hands off the wall, forcing your cum-soaked thighs to slip along his chest once more as you collapse to the side of him.
His face is a sight. The raw-looking skin glistened in the low light as his mouth and chin remain covered by your mess. His eyes were bright, piercing through your relaxed features as you wrap your leg around his own - marvelling at the temperature difference.
"Not bad, old timer."
Blissed out by his efforts, your attitude was much more amicable and to show your forgiveness, you lazily grip at his cock; the length rock hard and visible leaking pre-cum due to his own untouched arousal.
Deciding that maybe he did deserve a treat as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his scarred hand - bringing the collected mess to his mouth for a final taste - you run the pad of your thumb across the flared head of his livid cock in a playful tease.
"Let's see if we can do something about this little problem here."
"Little?"
Cooper's voice came roughly, his own aggression mellowed out by how visibly pleased you were with his efforts.
Still, he couldn't resist the bait.
"Not that little, I gotta say." You reply. "In fact, maybe I should return the favour and-"
Trailing off, you wetten your lips with your tongue and make a lurid sucking noise, something obscene and nasty, as your thighs press together gently.
It's not really that much of a surprise when his hand moves like lightning, snaring around your neck and pushing your head towards his cock while a faint yet familiar smirk sits on the corners of his lips.
It was your turn after all.
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partycatty · 8 months
Note
Johnny cage and mayB some others being mind numbingly in love
Like they talk to reader and everytime just feel so stupid afterwards because theyre so in love and do stupid shit to impress
i love stupid men anon this works so well for me
johnny, raiden, kung lao, syzoth > stupid in love
warnings: big stupid hot sexy men (what else is new?), bojack horseman minor spoiler?? LMFOAMOF
+ bonus surprise character at the very end
masterlist
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johnny >
• have you guys LMAO have you guys seen the. DLGHSDKJ the episode of bojack horseman where bojack gives diane the D in from the hollywood sign?? johnny is SO extra like that and for WHAT.
• OR YOU GUYS KNOW WHEN TODDLERS LIKE REALLY WANT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING AND THEY JUST KEEP SAYING "LOOKIT" LMFAFOIFMOA
• "reader, reader are you watching - reader, reader watch -" as he's like about to absolutely FUCK UP a nerds rope or some stupid shit
• okay i'll be fr. johnny is by far the most concerningly extra of the entire group. he will put himself in stupid danger just to impress you.
• "watch me take on all these guys at once!" he'll call out to you during your time at the academy, surrounded by a dozen monks. he's in a sling and bandages the next day.
• "kenshi, i bet you sento that i can jump from the roof like bi-han did!" BAM.
• he'd randomly give you expensive gifts out of absolutely nowhere. or he'd give his one of many glasses away to you because he "has no use for them" or they're "out of style" (he's lying, he just wants to see you wear something that's his).
• oh? you briefly mention you're a tad chilly during training? oh no, johnny's top fell off, i guess he has to give it to you now. you know, to stay warm. oh, you don't want his top? okay, here's a comically fluffy, expensive coat! and it just so happens to be your size...!
• lowkey i headcanon johnny as, despite being an actor, pretty blushy if someone matches his energy or really gets under his skin. you'll pass by him with a witty comment about his fighting style, or even just to tell him he cleaned up nice after getting his ass kicked by raiden. johnny just stands there with steam spitting from his red ears, hand on his chest as he fights a stupid grin.
• he is down ASTRONOMICALLY. not even the elder gods can stop this man from being so drunk in love when you're around. he makes it everyone's problem.
raiden >
• we see how flustered he gets when he's called out by kitana. he's a grown man with dick and balls but he's also flustered very easily! he'll be decently vocal about his affection for you, but then word trickles down to your ear, at which point it's so over for him.
• walks into walls when he's so entranced by you training. like face first into a wall, his hat fluttering to the ground. kung lao loses it.
• he can't even hear what you're saying when you speak to him, it sounds like an angel muffled by the clouds of heaven. raiden's also not the greatest with his powers granted by the amulet. if you go in to touch his arm playfully, a jolt of electricity pricks your palm and you yelp. raiden can only sputter apologies as he bows down, his cheeks tinted.
• he's the type to do little favors for you, ones you barely notice. your spot at the table is tidied, the training dummy is prepped for your fighting style, or he's the first one to bring you something if you forget it. that, and tiny favors to butter you up to him.
• "reader, you said you were nauseous last training. i prepared you some tea," he'd slide the small cup over to you, fighting a goofy smile. he rehearsed his script a few times, so he sounded more static than intended.
• will ask you questions about training or the weather just to hear your voice. he couldn't even recall what you were saying, he just loved the way your lips moved.
• kung lao pokes at him for this often, nudging him or making comments about you being his partner when you're not. raiden will stomp on his foot to keep him from talking about his infatuation if you're around. as if you don't already know.
kung lao >
• he's totally the bouncing on his heels type of man. he'll stare at you with a stupid grin, like a kid in a candy store.
• "was there something you needed, kung lao?" you'd ask as you tended to your own duties, organizing various equipment into baskets.
• "ah, no, not at all," he'd wave you off with a grin. "just enjoying... the view."
• you cringe at his words, chuckling to yourself as he speaks you in a daze. his mouth runs off before his brain can stop it from happening, so his biggest downfall with his crush is yapping. he'll sit there and explain his family history to you, or how much he hated farming cabbage, or his favorite meal at madam bo's just to keep you around long enough.
• kung lao always has this desire to keep you close by, so he continuously does stupid shit to keep you by his side. including but not limited to accidentally slicing his hands on his hat, one that he swore was a genius idea. in concept, probably.
• he wants to impress you so bad. SO BAD. anything he does is deserving of a bragging right if he's the one to do it. lao would totally try to shrug it off so you could gas him up more. any compliment, forced or not, was music to his ears.
• "yeah, i totally beat raiden," he'll check his nails nonchalantly as he leans against the wall, telling you the story of the cabbage competition for dinner against his best friend. "really swept him."
• "that's just not true," raiden would try to interject when he heard lao's version of the story. kung lao just holds eye contact with you, grinning, as he shoves raiden aside by his face.
syzoth >
• im sorry IM SORRY BUT I JUST LOVE THE HC THAT HIS TAIL WAGS I KNOW THATS NOT HOW THAT WORKS JUST- JUST BEAR WITH ME.
• you hear thumping when you're around, though you're never able to find out where it's coming from, so you chalk it up to the monks landing blows against the wooden dummies.
• but the sound lingers when you're at dinner. the table is... rattling.
• you look up to see if anyone else notices or if you were hit too hard during training. but, you see everyone staring past you. just down the table, syzoth is sitting with a pile of bugs on his plate, his tail thumping in and out of view.
• "syzoth," kenshi will gently say, leaning into his ear to whisper something. syzoth flushes a green tint and tries to resume to his meal, the bugs scurrying out of his chopsticks as he struggles to keep it together.
• out of respect for his dignity, you hold your tongue at his obvious affection. syzoth tries to keep it under wraps but he can't help it when you're just so cute!
• he'll stand close by you, inching closer and closer until you notice. he'll slip you little trinkets and flora with a small smile. anything from a rock that matches the shades of your eye, to a flower he picked by the gardens, to a stick. a nice stick, to be fair! you wonder if this is zaterran courtship.
• "it reminded me of you," he'd lean into your ear. your bedside table is decorated with various... outside decor.
BONUS! kitana >
• kitana knew she couldn't get entangled with the umgadi after seeing how risky mileena is with tanya, but my god were you breathtaking.
• you would often accompany her in the carriages as she waved to her people, eyes transfixed on her. you're devoted to her protection. it is your god-given duty. your eye contact was too much at times, and kitana would often catch herself staring at you, her hand suspended in the air. she'd forget to wave.
• "is everything alright, my princess?" you would ask innocently, in a low tone to avoid raising suspicion. kitana's mind short circuits when you call her... yours. even if you're referring to the umgadi's worship. she shakes her head and clears her throat, pulling her mask up higher to conceal her blush.
• if she were to give speeches on her mother's behalf or otherwise, she'd find herself forgetting what the rehearsed, or hell, struggling to rehearse. you were the one she'd come to for help with speeches, yet you made things ten times harder when you'd lean in to listen to her better. it makes her mind absolutely numb.
• "and you tell me to steer away from the umgadi," mileena would rasp into her ear as the sister sat on their thrones, you positioned by her side and eyes forward. "it seems you picked a favorite, sister."
• "i'm not the only guilty one," she'd hiss back to her sister, nodding at tanya. "it won't get in the way of duties, as long as mother doesn't know."
• you'd fight to netherrealm and back for your princess. as you fight off intruders or threats, kitana forgets to escape, instead transfixed on the way your muscles would contract and flex with each blow.
• she wants to be the one to care for your wounds. the power imbalance means nothing to her, you're her equal.
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hirsheyskisses · 1 year
Text
OP Boys: Special Hugs (02)
Law & Ace
(Short Scenario)
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Trafalgar D. Water Law
♡ Another case of, seriously not the touchy type.
♡ the most physical contact he gives most people his brushing shoulders when moving past them on the submarine, and even that's rare seeing how careful he is.
♡ however, with careful comes attentiveness, and with attentiveness comes him noticing how strange you've been acting.
♡ the skip in your step slowly fading, your feet dragging, the diminished eating during mealtime, the bags forming under your eyes
♡ yeah, he noticed
♡ could this oh so possibly be because he actually liked your energy and missed it?
♡ of course not (it obviously is)
"Room."
"Shambles."
One moment, you were inching past him in the halls, the next you found yourself standing besides a bed. A bed that wasn't your own, with none other than the Captain facing you.
"We need to talk, and you're not leaving this room until we do. So sit."
He growled, and you laughed nervously, deciding it was better to listen than argue, so you sat.
"What's the problem, Captain?"
"You. You clearly have a problem."
Ow. Blunt as always.
"...will lying save me from this?"
He lifted an eyebrow, clearly not amused as he sat beside you, shaking his head in clear disbelief. "I have nothing against keeping you locked in here until you spit it out. Whatever wrong is clearly affecting your performance on the sub, which could in turn affect the entire crew."
Law's words came off harsher than he intended, he regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. Watching you shy away and shrink closer to the wall, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Sorry, Cap'n.. I can sort it out myself." You moved to stand up, angling your head away. But you weren't near as sly as you thought you were, he saw those tears pricking at your eyes.
So Law snatched your arm and pulled you back down, and into his side. "There's no need to do it yourself when I'm offering help."
"Don't wanna be a bother, it's not a big deal."
"Wouldn't have offered if it was a bother, and it's clearly a deal to you. I'm here for you."
If him saying that wasn't enough, he placed a comforting hand on the small of your back. It was like the dam broke, tears flowing down your face and you buried your face into his chest.
Well, shit. He wasn't expecting that-
He awkwardly placed an arm around you, holding you close to him, letting you cry. His tattooed hands rubbed circles into your back, sides, and shoulders, occasionally reminding you to breathe. He stared down at you, unsure of what to say.
You must've been there for forever before your tears subsided, and for the time, you threw away the Captain and Subordinate dynamic. And Law allowed it. Right now, he was a trusted friend.
Snuggling up closer to him, Law gently rearranged the two of you so you were laying, his legs wrapped sound yours, head buried into your hair, your arms wrapped around his torso.
No further words were spoken that night. You may have been the obvious one getting comfort but.. Law made a mental note to do this again, from time to time.
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Portgas D. Ace
♤ Ace may be a bit wary of hugs at first. He may be friendly, but he's not that friendly.
♤ But when Whitbeard kept sending you on duo missions with him, Ace grew to be absolutely in LOVE with you
♤ not that he'd ever show that.. seeing as he doesn't believe himself worthy of love..
♤ doesn't mean he isn't (wholesomely) touchy, however
♤ grabs your shoulder a lot, your ha d when his tipsy and bold, playfully bumps into you
♤ a lot
"Ace.. you've been awfully quiet. And you're staring again."
Your voice seemed to bring him out of a trance, and Ace quickly broke off into- a rather forced laugh. "Just- enjoying the view!"
"Oh? How romantic."
You teased, watching your freckled friend redden to his ears. "The- THE VIEW BEHIND YOU. idiot!"
"You're going to sit here and tell me a wall is more interesting than me?"
You caught him, watching his mouth open and close as he attempted to think of a defense. After a moment, Ace gave in, huffing like a child, crossing his arms and turning his head away.
"You're gonna have to look at me at some point. We're gonna be at the island in two days, we can't have you brooding about!"
"I am not brooding."
"You're pouting. It's close enough. Now talk. Or else."
"I am not pouting!"
You sighed, inching closer to Ace. The ship was small, and so was the indoors."hey.. what are you doing?" "Well if you're not gonna talk, I'm gonna have to.."
"Tickle it out of you."
You finished with a menacing grin, watching Ace immediately liven as he shot up, raising his hands. "Don't you DARE-" "Oh I dare."
You threw yourself at him. Ace didn't even have time to defend himself before you launched your attack. Your hands were everywhere at once, tickling his side, arms, neck. He couldn't hold back his laughter, desperately pawing at your arms,
"Pl-puh-lease- AAA- y-you devil!" He managed between fits of laughter, backing himself up, with you following, "I warned you! This'll end if ya just talk!"
"N-never!"
Ace yelled defiantly, his knees hitting the bed, and fell backwards. You were on him in an instant, straddling his waist, the grin on your face having yet to fade.
"One more chance. Talk."
"...TAKE THIS-"
Ace shot up, arms wrapping around you. He was just as fast as you, having you pinned underneath his body, chest heaving.
For a few moments, you both remained still, chests heaving, before a shadow fell over Ace's eyes.
"..'m not good enough. You're too good to me."
"Huh? ...Ace, what are you on about?"
"You heard me! You're always there to catch my ass when I inevitably mess up. I.. I'm so grateful to you, but i hate myself.. for never being able to return the favor."
"Ace.." You whispered, watching a tear roll down his cheek. Freeing an arm, you leaned up, wrapping your now free arm around him and pulling him close.
"You're amazing, Ace."
"You've been an amazing light.. you've saved my life more times than I can count.
"So don't ever think.. to you're not enough. You're my Ace."
You whispered into his ear, and you could feel it: tears now running freely as he pressed himself closer, hat resting at an odd angle on his head. Ace's body was heating up, though not to a dangerous point.
That night, you held onto Ace. Held him in your arms, whispering sweet reassurances into his ear. His tears soon turned into soft snores, and.. now that he knew he was allowed to, he'd be in your arms every chance he gets.
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midnightorchids · 6 months
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More soft Jason ideas since you deserve it and your wonderful and supper cool Girldad!Jason BRRROOOOOOO Oh my goddddddd ok like- - Jason is the kind of dad who always has music playing in the house, he mindlessly sways and hums along as he makes morning (or night-time) pancakes for you and his little girl. She'll come running up to him, her thick black hair tangled over her face, and pull on his pant leg. He'll sweep her up into his arms, her small head fitting perfectly against his chest as she watches him make breakfast, still somewhat asleep and aloof. He'll start bopping along to the music with her little hands around his neck, filling up the kitchen with shrieks of laughter and he peppers her soft cheeks with kisses. - I feel like you and him would like in a beach house, somewhere away from the city and his old job as Red Hood. Your daughter would bring home buckets of pretty rocks and sea glass that Jason keeps in jars along the living room windowsills. He has to dump some back onto the shore every time he sees her washing the new rocks and shells on the front porch. - After long summer days of playing and wrestling in the waves, you would all curl up for a post-beach nap. Smelling like salt with the prick of the sun settling into your tired bones. Your daughter would fit perfectly between you two. Jasons hand behind his head with his other wrapped firmly around you and his little girl. - Get's his daughter obsessed with reading just as much as he is. Would build her book-shelf after book-self as her collection of story-books and middle grade fairy books expands. - Helps his daughter roast marsh mellows during the beach bonfires you guys have when Roy and his daughter visit. Your daughter and Lian are best friends- playdates once a week kind of thing. - When she's little, he'll always have his daughter on his knee during big family dinners. He let's her eat anything off of his plate, keeping his arm around her as he talks with Dick. - Overall, just- every-time he falls asleep next to you he feels like crying into your shoulder, unable to thank you enough for bringing such a precious perfect bundle of laughter into his life. Huge 'my wife showed me how to love and my daughter showed me how to forgive energy lmao.
I want night time pancakes with Jason and my little baby girl wtf!!! Also, thank you so much for sending this in. I love it and I literally fail to understand how you pull up with the most amazing scenarios every time, I’m actually in love with your writing!! You’re amazing!
Anyways lol!! I’m gonna be honest, I don’t want to have biological children but for Jason… I’d do it, no hesitation. He’d be the most amazing girl dad, I love him so so so much.
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I’m not sure if people have already said this before but can you imagine him learning how to do your daughter’s hair!! He has a YouTube hair tutorial playing on the TV as your daughter sits in between his legs. He’s got bobby pins in between his teeth and hair ties around his wrist. He’s using a small comb to gently brush through her little curls.
He’s learning how to braid her hair and he’s having some difficulty, but he’s a persistent man, and like he always tells his little girl, practice makes perfect! He will sit there for days, hours upon hours, trying to make the most flawless set of Dutch braids. Once he’s succeeded at his craft, he’ll admire his work and will tell his daughter to go show you his skills. And oh my goodness, how adorable does she look showing off her father’s braiding skills!!
I also saw a quote on Instagram earlier today and it said that “tenderness is in the hands” and I immediately thought of Jason. There is no one with gentler hands than Jason. His fingers may be rough and his knuckles might be permanently bruised from his past, but when he interlocks his hands with his baby girl, they are the most delicate and warmest hands she has ever felt.
He will run his fingers through her hair, as she lays her tiny head against his chest and he’ll read her favourite stories. She’ll take his hands out of her hair and just play with his fingers. Trace little shapes on his palm, measure her small hand against his big, calloused ones. It’ll melt Jason’s heart and he’ll feel like crying. There will be days where he needs to stop reading and take a minute to appreciate the tenderness of the moment, without completely crumbling.
Also, I kind of hate to say it, but it’s so true. Jason would totally try to heal his daddy issues by being the best possible parent.
He’d treat his daughter like an actual princess and not just in terms of materialistic things. He’d be there for her in every circumstance; he’d be the best moral support and the best cheerleader anyone could ask for.
If your daughter plays any sports or plays an instrument, any thing really, he’d always be there to encourage her and comfort her when it started to become tough. He’d attended every game, every practice, every performance. Like I said, the best cheerleader.
Basically long story short, I’d die for soft, girl dad Jason.
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sugojosgf · 1 month
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let me feel your lips all on my skin !
﹒yaga ﹕☆ ﹟ gn · prns ㅤ࣭ ㅤׂ : ᯓ mbti ! blōwjōbs , teeny tiny hint of implīed cheating , being walked ōn! ﹐
yaga is stressed, gojo's an ass, his wife's leaving. you have to help him feel better yeah ?
"i can't stand that goddamn prick." you hear yaga slam the door as he walks in. you turn to look at him and the poor man looks exhausted.
his glasses hang low on his nose, eyes tired. his white button up crinkled and almost see through with his sweat. his spiky hair stands upright like the stress had created a field of static energy around his head.
"gojo again ?"
he drops the felt in his hand, a cat halfway made on the leather couch. his office was sparsely decorated, with the exception of you of course. you would spend all your time in there, acting as the sweetest assistant he could ever ask for.
"third time this week, he's twenty nine and yet he bails on our meetings like he's a student skipping class." he throws himself on to the couch, tired back supported with the sturdy leather. he manspreads, letting the tension in his legs fall.
you know what to do when he gets like this. stressed and high strung, desperate with a need for release.
you dim the lights first. the harsh yellows do no good for anyone. he watches you from the corner of his eyes. then, you put down the picture of him with his wife.
his lips flash a crooked smile. still so respectful.
you walk over to him and cover his eyes with a wet wash cloth, soothing the strain in his eyes. you worry about him often. he was a little too old to be taking such less care of himself.
you make yourself comfortable between his spread legs. waiting for his confirmation to begin.
"i was teaching the second years, im sweaty." he groused. "you don't have to."
you press your thighs together, you were so down bad for him. lips salivating at the mere thought of his unfiltered scent.
you don't reply with words. you press your face against the growing bulge in his pants. you nuzzle into the warmth and take in mouthfuls of his musky fragrance.
"you are so fucking nasty, goddamn." he places a veiny hand on your head, guiding you to his zipper.
you were well trained in the art of using no hands. teeth biting the zip, you drag it down. when his boxers come into view, you are quick to remove it.
his cock springs out, heavy and girthy as it caresses your cheek. his pre, enough to dirty your face almost instantly. sitting on the balls of your feet, you take him into your mouth.
he hisses at the warmth that envelops the length of his dick. his face contorts in pleasure even before you begin to suck him off.
you start off slow, tongue working the underside of his cock. you make sure to keep your teeth away as you work yourself deeper. he groans as you get closer to his abs, nose pressed against the trail of hair.
your mouth burns with the stretch. he was so girthy, your hands barely covering 3/4th of the circumference.
you pull off with a pop, growing cross eyed with his standing cock. it was just like him too, veiny and tall, tan with an angry purple at the tip.
you decide that's it's about time that you pay special attention to his balls. you drag your lips down to them and begin with kitten licks. for a man so big and powerful, he sure was sensitive.
"f-fuck...s-slowly!" he groans as you take one in your mouth, tongue swirling around. you continue with your ministrations as you suckle on him. you repeat the same on the other one until he's a twitching teary eyed mess.
the cloth on his eyes slips down and his eyes immediately zero on you. you look perfect for him like that, hands tucked under your knees.
you start kissing his tip, eyes fluttering coquettishly. you finally bring your hand up just so you can guide his own hand to your head.
he relishes in the control you give him, as he fucks your mouth. the only sounds in the room were his heavy breathing and the wet gurgle of your mouth.
"i'm close,... you are so good to me,,," he grits out. you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, trying to match the rhythm he set. he tries to pull you off before he cums but you strongly refuse, your eyes filled with defiance.
he gives up and shoots a warm load down your throat, you pull off his cock as streaks of his cum paint your face.
you look at him doe eyed, as you clean yourself up. you open your mouth to show him how good you had been, making sure to swallow everything.
"feel better?" you ask throat thoroughly fucked, your voice coming out scratchy.
before he can reply, the office door is thrown open.
"sorry for being late i guess i don't really—," the white haired sorcerer stops analysing the scene in front of him. his eyes widen in absolute horror, a sight that had never graced the strongest's features, "is this god's way of punishing me ??!?!?"
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splataii · 1 year
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wc: 1.3k
cw: dom top male character, sub bottom male reader, he/him pronouns, minor dacryphilia, breeding kink, cumming untouched, stomach bulge, minor cum eating, minor degradation, use of the words "boypussy" and "boycunt"
reader is a tease, but has met his match with ryusei shidou. its kinda drabbles, and fics mixed together.
shidou is always ready to match your energy which makes it literally impossible to tease him.
it was after dinner you first tried to mess w him, sliding past him while you grinded against his crotch. but before you could even fully pass him, he was grabbing ur hips and locking you in place while he pressed his hand on the small of your back, bending you over the table to hump against ur ass. he breathed heavy pornographic moans into your ear, driving you crazy till he finally finished in his pants, squeezing ur thigh with a grin before he was off.
you tried again another time by pressing a ghost of a kiss on his lips, pulling back before he could do anything, sly smile on your face. but of course that wasn't nearly enough for someone like him. his strong hand grabbed you by the back of your pretty neck, pulling your lips back onto his, as he shoved his tongue down your throat. you moaned, barely any time to process it all before he angled you right above his knee and pulled you down, making you pathetically rut against him.
this boy stays one upping you whenever he can, so naturally, you figured you had to try somethin different.
no sex, no jerkin off, no nothin for a whole week.
he was understandably confused. but you promised he could do anything he wanted to you if he succeeded, so he agreed to follow all your rules. or at least try to… you definitely wasn't making it any easier for him.
you start wearing really tight clothes at home more often, always asking for his opinion on the new outfits you buy.
and “accidentally” send him videos of you fucking yourself with another one of your toys, his name spilling from your lips.
he brings it up, but you always play dumb, swearing up and down you ain't up to nothing.
the whole thing makes him salty as hell, and he spends most of the week in a bad mood.
you notice him all stomping around the place and ask him what was wrong, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, knowing that you knew damn well what was up.
he just couldn't wait for the week to be up so he could replace that teasing smile with your pretty crying face, choking on his dick.
and the end of the week couldn't come fast enough.
he sees you first thing that friday and doesn't give you no “hi” or nothin. just scooping you up and over his shoulder so he can throw you on the bed.
you turn around on your back, propping yourself up on your elbows, and he’s already on top of you, biting your bottom lip as he lets his tongue slide into your mouth as he rips your shirt off of you.
he groans into your mouth as he ruts his cock against yours, already hard from just the sight of you laid out in bed underneath him. eventually he pulls back, giving you air to breathe as he angles his clothed dick over your dazed face.
“he missed you,” shidou grins as he fiddles with his waistband, his dick springing from the confines of his pants. your eyes widen as you remember just how big he is, drool pooling in your mouth as you take in his intoxicating scent, “why don't you say hi?”
<3
shido is hellbent on breeding your boypussy till youre pregnant, and you aint leaving that room till he’s absolutely sure ur stuffed full a his cum. he spends the least amount of time necessary to prep you before he’s stuffing you full. the stretch was so big, you were begging him to slow down. but your cries spurred him on even more as he bottomed out in you, moaning as your hole desperately clenched down on him.
tears prick his eyes as he cums just from being inside you, the warmth of your walls enough to send him over the edge. he hasn’t felt your tight walls in ages, you don’t know how good you make him feel.
when he finally starts fucking you in earnest, his pace is relentless, barely giving u time to breathe as he angles ur hips up, drawing every single moan and whimper from your pretty lips that he can. he presses his head to your chest as he whines before he's finally emptying balls deep inside of you.
he likes pressing down on the bulge of his cock on your tummy, and grabs your hand to make sure you can feel it too. your eyes roll back as you moan, feeling his huge cock thrust in and out of you. “fuck, can ya feel me in your guts baby?”
he has you bent in every position as he mindlessly fucks you, milking every last drop of cum from your aching cock as you shake from the overstimulation. but your fucked out face as he rips another orgasm from your body is always enough to get him going again.
he has you ride him while he jerks you off till your legs are jelly, and all that can come out of your mouth is shameless babbles and whines as you beg to be filled. he’ll wrap your arms around his shoulders, and grab your hips so he can fuck you on his cock himself, and fill his baby boy up just like you so prettily begged him to.
right when you think he's satisfied, shidou is pushing you onto your knees and making you clean off the cum on his dick w your tongue. he holds u back by the back of your head to tease you, laughing everytime you go cross eyed with your tongue hanging out your mouth trying to catch his cock on your tongue. when you’ve just barely got the head on your lips, he’s shoving himself in your mouth and using your throat like a fleshlight. drool dribbles down your chin as he nears his climax and you grab onto his thighs, silently begging him to cum down your throat. but he always pulls back and finishes all over your face instead, painting it white so he can make an absolute mess a you.
tears prick the corner of your eyes as he spills his cum on your flushed cheeks and not down your throat. he's quick to kiss your tears dry before planting his lips on yours so he can taste his cum off your lips.
<3
you barely have the strength to let out another whimper as shido fucks another load of cum in you, heavy groans in your ear dizzying as he bites your shoulder, leaving another mark.
“what's the matter?” shidou lets out a chuckle, flipping you onto your back and spreading your ass so he can watch the cum ooze out of your abused hole, “this what you wanted right? to be fucked dumb?”
“please..” you groan, breath hitching as he catches his tip on your puffy hole, painting your ass with his cum.
“looks like this little guy hasn't had enough yet, huh?”, he laughs as he watches your boycunt clench around nothing as he pulls your hips into the air, your tear stricken face still buried in the pillows.
despite how fucked out you are, your hips instinctively jerk up for him as he slides himself into you, the wet sound of his cum being pushed deeper inside your stretched hole making you moan.
your limbs feel like they're on fire as he starts rutting into your worn body, using you like a fleshlight. shaking, your hand stretches out, reaching for anything to ground you, but shidou is quick to lean down and pin your wrist to the mattress.
“don't get all shy on me now, pretty boy,” he smiles, spare hand grabbing at your soft thighs and lifting it up to expose ur cock as it slaps against your tummy with every rut of his hips, “we aren't finished having fun,”
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