#the domesticity of it all 😭
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ohnomalora · 2 months ago
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EarthMix - Ossan's Love Thailand
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wonderthor · 5 months ago
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dangerous and domestic sukunađŸ„șđŸ„ș
he’s a notorious man in the yakuza. always hunts and kills whoever his boss tells him to. everyone in the underground world is scared of him, and even those that are not usually are as well, with his tattoos all over his body and constantly bruised and scarred knuckles from beating information out of his victims.
but somehow, you’re not. although you’re so innocent you probably wouldn’t know a murderer if you see one. even though you know nothing about his work, yet notice the way others cower in fear around him. you’re not scared of him at all.
maybe it’s the way he comes home, quietly walking into the house and coming up to you. giving you a small, sweet smile as he ruffles your hair or pets your head. let’s out a gruff, “hey sweetheart,” before kissing you on your head. maybe that’s why you don’t understand how dangerous he is. i mean, how could he be? when he comes home and looks at you like you’re the sun that is the center of his world. even though he looks at everyone else like their existence alone bothers him sometimes.
and sometimes he cooks dinner when he comes home. you can’t argue with him on that, he’s surprisingly a great cook. you hand him the plates for him to put the food on and place them nicely on the table. and even though most couples like to sit across from each other, you like to sit next to him and eat while your head rests on his shoulder. when you sit next to him and place your silverware next to the plates, he looks down at you for a minute and grabs your chin to make you face him. for a moment, all you do is stare at each other, studying each other’s face.
“hey, you know you’re mine right?”
it catches you off guard, but you smile back up at him anyway.
“yes sukuna, i know. you tell me all the time.”
he chuckles down at you, moving his hand to softly rub along on your cheek.
“yeah well i just want to make sure you know it, and never forget.”
you kiss his hand when it makes its way to your lips.
“yeah well, i’ll never forget. i’ll always be yours.”
he stares down at you again, darker this time, before clearing his throat and moving to eat his dinner.
“alright baby, eat your dinner before it gets cold.”
you giggle and follow his actions, eating your dinner and dropping your head on his shoulder where it belongs.
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mxgyver · 8 months ago
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THEY'RE BACCCCCCCCCCCCCK!!!!!!!
I will NEVER get over how good you are at writing domesticity like... it's just so !!!!
"It felt like a fairy tale kiss, romantic and sepia-toned, and you loved it." SCREAMING
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your love is the love i need || chapter 4/4
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pairing: javy machado x femme reader (no y/n), callsign Cross
summary: Javy keeps his promise to feed and fuck Cross.
warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – y'all know who and how I am, so we have dirty talk, explicit PiV sex, f!receiving oral sex, overstimulation, truly just a smidge of body insecurity (like not even a full paragraph, just the natural ramifications of existing in the same space as Javy Machado), i don't even know the tag/tropey name for it, but he's too big/some discomfort/some coaching to fit? size kink of course follows, but that defs happens.
length: 6.7k
A/N: took me approx 900 years to finish it BUT WE DID IT thank you to everyone who cheered for, beta-ed, sent HCs, sent vibes, or anything else to make this fic happen. i'm so glad we all fell so hard for this version of Javy; I just adore him.
chapter one / chapter two / chapter three
The day seemed to last forever. 
Jake flew especially recklessly, Mav took personal offense at that, and everyone suffered the consequences. Hours of drills led to hours of debriefing, followed by exhausted locker-room showers and when you finally, finally, made it off base, you were almost too tired to remember Javy’s promise. 
Almost. 
Tonight, after I’ve fed you

You were cooking asparagus on the stove, and you snuck a glance at Javy, melting butter in a pan beside you. He’d followed you back from the base, and looked seventy different kinds of handsome, standing in your kitchen. An apron was stretched across his chest, covering his turtleneck and slacks, and you were glad you’d changed into a pretty dress. It wasn’t how you normally dressed off base, but you liked the contrast the two of you made–dressed fancy, barefoot in the kitchen, cooking. 
Every now and then, one of you would move past the other, and the lingering touches let you know you were both excited about the night. 
Dinner came together quickly – gnocchi and asparagus in browned butter and sage, and Javy made a show out of pulling out your chair for you. You pressed your lips together, trying to quell the sappy smile that threatened to overtake your face. Who pulled out chairs anymore?? Javy did – Javy who’d brought groceries, who looked like a GQ cover model, who listened when you spoke and made you feel like there was no place he’d rather be. 
A part of you had wondered if there’d be any lingering awkwardness after this morning, but that hadn’t been the case. You’d just fallen into a rhythm of being near each other that felt so natural, and you’d be nervous it was too-perfect, if you didn’t trust Javy so much. 
After dinner, you slipped into the living room to change the vinyl in the record player, and a moment later, you heard the tap in the kitchen. 
When you came back into the kitchen, Javy was standing at the sink, doing dishes like it was natural. 
“We can use the dishwasher,” you protested, feeling bad that he’d essentially made you dinner while you boiled water for vegetables, but he just shook his head. 
“Won’t take long,” Javy shrugged. “Might as well, you know?”
So of course, you grabbed a dishtowel. 
And this was the dangerous part: doing dishes. Because it didn’t feel like a date, it felt like everything you wanted. Because nights out were glamorous, but someone to clean a kitchen with? Someone who’d bump his elbow against yours, just to make sure you knew he was there, was curious how you were doing. You thought of what he’d said this morning, before everything, about how perfect waking up had been, and you shook your head at him, when he handed you the last plate. 
“I need you to ruin it,” you told him. 
Javy frowned, confused. “Ruin what?”
“Tonight,” you said. “It’s literally the perfect first date, and it’s setting impossible expectations.”
Javy grinned, a lazy smile that was just shy of proud. “Perfect, huh?”
You couldn’t even give him a hard time; it had been. You handed him the towel to dry his hands and started moving around the kitchen to put away plates. 
You didn’t hear him move, but after you’d put the glasses back in their cabinet, he was right behind you when you turned around. One of his warm hands closed around yours, and he pulled you into the middle of the room, shuffling slightly, and the music from the record player filtered into the room, now that the sink wasn’t running, and dishes weren’t clattering. As Jake Isaac sang about waking up to forever, you smiled against the front of Javy’s sweater. 
“This is the opposite of ruining it,” you said into the cashmere, and his chest shook as he chuckled. 
“That was kind of the point,” he said, his voice a soft rumble. 
Of course he was a dance-in-the-kitchen person. 
It wasn’t the most elegant, but it was sweet and gentle, and you loved that he’d made this moment for you both. After the frantic intensity of the morning, after the grueling longevity of the day, after the classic romance of dinner, this was just the perfect nightcap. 
The song faded into another, and Javy spun you slightly in his arms. You smiled to yourself when he twirled you back into him, you back to his front, his arms wrapping around you like a hug. It was the kind of dance that made you feel like you were on a film set in the 40s, all glamorous and elegant, despite what the stars of the time looked like. You swayed together, arms crossed in front of your chest, and you felt his head lower to rest his temple against the side of your face. 
The record faded, and Javy spinned you back. You went out, following his lead, and when he pulled you back to him, the kitchen was quiet as you stood facing each other. You tilted your head, looking up at him. So handsome, so perfectly beautiful, in the dim under cabinet lights. 
He stepped closer to you, moving slow because he was a tease and knew how close desire was lingering under the surface for both of you. His long fingers curled around the back of your neck, prompting you to come closer to him, and you did. He smiled just before he kissed you, something like relief in his eyes, and you understood when his lips brushed over yours.
He kissed you gently, like he was determined to enjoy it, like this was the indulgence he wanted for the night. You felt another hand settle on your jaw as he cradled your face, like you were precious, and your hand slid over the soft material of his turtleneck, resting on his chest. It felt like a fairy tale kiss, romantic and sepia-toned, and you loved it.  
When you broke apart, you were only breathing slightly harder than normal, it’d been that sweet. You looked up at him, your lips tingling and your heart beating fast, and you knew it was time–you wanted good on that promise. 
You weren’t sure what your expression looked like, but whatever Javy read on it had him pulling you back in. 
This kiss was different– charged, hungry. When Javy’s tongue swept over your bottom lip, you opened for him, and he hummed in approval. He deepened the kiss with a confidence that had your head spinning, and your hands crept up from his chest to smooth over his shoulders. His had fallen to your waist, and his big hands were holding you tight to him, and you loved that you could feel how close he wanted you. 
You didn’t break the kiss, but you did step back, pulling him with you. Javy followed you automatically, and you felt his step falter when you took another, walking backwards. 
“You sure?” he asked, his voice a whisper against your lips, and you nodded instead of speaking. You wanted this, and him checking in only confirmed that. Your fingers twined together and he followed you to your room; when you pulled him, he sat on the edge of your bed. 
You liked him here, his soft eyes and broad body taking up space that you always thought of as yours. You stepped between his spread thighs, close as you could get to him, and Javy’s hands trailed up your legs. His touch was light, almost reverent, and goosebumps prickled in his wake, as his fingers traced higher. When his hands trailed unobstructed to your waist, his breath caught, and his fingers traced back over your hips, double checking, before Javy’s hands gripped your hips loosely. 
“Are you serious?” he whispered, his voice almost gruff, and when you tipped your head to the side, shrugging lightly, and Javy groaned. 
Not wearing panties had apparently been the move. 
His hands spanned from your hips to the curve of your ass, and Javy leaned up to nudge the neckline of your dress down with his nose. Your head tipped back as he pressed wet kisses over the upper curve of your breasts, his hands gripping you tightly, almost possessive. Before long you were squirming, entranced by his soft touches, but needing more. 
You reached back to unzip your dress and Javy stilled, sitting back. You tried not to be nervous, but when the zipper reached the bottom stop, you couldn’t make yourself move to push the dress off your shoulders. You had a decent amount of self confidence, but Javy was
Javy. The kind of perfect that wouldn’t show imperfections if he were on a billboard in Chelsea, much less in the muted light of your bedroom. 
You looked into his eyes, read the desire and admiration there, and you bit your lip, suddenly shy. Javy sat up straighter, pressing his mouth to yours in a reassuring kiss. He was so sweet, his mouth felt so good, and you felt his kiss reassuring you. 
“Let me see you, gorgeous,” he murmured, and you nodded, shaking your shoulders so the dress fell. Javy kissed you as the dress pooled over his hands, still gripping your ass like he couldn’t let go of it, and you felt the last of your worries melt away. He wasn’t here because he expected you to look a certain way, but because he wanted you, period. 
He let go of you to let the dress fall, and the moment it was over his hands, he pulled you closer to him. His mouth trailed down the edge of your bra, his tongue teasing under it to lap at your skin, each caress a promise. The feeling of his tongue over, around, through, the lace was maddening, and your hands gripped his shoulders. Javy kissed between your breasts, and then he kissed you over the bra. You clamped your lips shut to trap a whimper as you felt his tongue teasing you through the lace, and you reached back to undo your bra as well. 
“Beautiful,” Javy breathed, and then his mouth was on you again. His lips moved over your breasts and his hands tightened on your ass, and you felt every touch, ever caress. His tongue flicked over one of your nipples, and you squirmed, lifting your head to look down at him. 
His eyes were closed.
As he kissed you, as he felt you, Javy’s eyes were closed like he was lost in the pleasure of pleasuring you, and your desire ratcheted higher. His teeth scraped over your nipples, and you were ready for more.
“Jay,” you gasped, and he made a sound low in his chest, like approval. 
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he asked, pulling back slightly to look up at you. Your heart flipped at the sight of him, his lips swollen from kissing you, his eyes hooded from his own desire.
You tried to think of a way to say ‘everything’ that wasn’t terribly cliche, but came up blank. Whatever was written on your face, Javy’s jaw clenched when he read it, and he smiled up at you. 
“Get on the bed then, yeah?” he said, and you scrambled to follow his ask. 
Javy stood up, pulling his sweater over his shoulders in a movement that looked like it should be in an Ambercrombie TV spot. You couldn’t believe this man was in your room, and you settled back against the comforter, 
“Jesus, baby,” Javy said, his voice lower than you’d heard it before, “What you do to me
” 
Your thighs pressed together tightly to hide your arousal, and how bad you needed him, just from some light petting and kisses. You didn’t even need to ask what he meant, you knew, and you felt the same. Javy undid his belt, holding eye contact as he pulled it from around his waist. 
You thought he’d crawl over you, but instead he closed a hand around your ankle, and pulled you. You squealed as he yanked you down the bed, and before you could register what he was doing, he’d knelt beside it, spreading your thighs around his head. 
“Been waiting all day for this,” he said quietly, more to himself than you, and you propped yourself on your elbows to look down at him. Not that he was looking at you, he was just staring at your cunt, spread before him, arousal pooling and he hadn’t even touched you. 
“Please, Javy,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered, before flashing up to you. His lips spread in a smile, and he held your eyes as he leaned into you. His breath ghosted over you and your mouth dropped open, you were panting, near breathless in anticipation, and you still weren’t ready for when he touched you.
Your head fell back against the mattress as Javy licked you. A moment later you felt his hands on your thighs, pulling you apart and holding you in place as he practically drank from you. His tongue spread your folds, traced over you and your back arched when he found your clit. He moaned, sending vibrations through you, and you shivered. 
“Fuck, honey,” Javy said, “You taste so good.”
You moaned at his words, and a moment later he was back between your thighs. His tongue teased, stroked, pulled, and when he sucked, your body keened. His elbow pressed across your lower stomach, pining you to the bed, holding your thighs apart with his shoulders as he ate you out. He learned the caresses that you responded to, and then you were nothing but responsive. He licked and you trembled, he kissed and you whimpered, he sucked and you moaned. He had no right being this good, but he was better, and your hips grinded into his mouth, needing him. 
“Javy,” you cried, squirming when he didn’t let you move. 
“Need something, baby?” Javy teased, and your eyes rolled back at the thickness in his voice. 
“Want to come,” you whimpered. “Please, you feel so good–”
“Anytime you want, honey,” Javy soothed, his voice muffled by your pussy. God, how were you gonna get through drills with him, now that you knew how his voice sounded when he was swallowing your arousal. It was so hot, he was so hot, and you felt restless, desperate. 
“Jay,” you whimpered, and his hands shifted. They slid up your thighs, wrapping around the backs of your knees and he folded your legs back, pressing you into the mattress. 
He had you practically bent in half, a position more a testament to his strength than your flexibility, and you felt your core tightening at the absolute power he had over you. You moaned as his mouth closed over you again, slurping obscenely, like you were a feast spread out for him and he was starving. 
And he was drinking from you like this was for him. Like burying his face in your pussy was all he wanted, all he needed, and he was just as desperate for it as you were.
“Come for me, baby,” he mumbled into your cunt. “Let me taste it, been desperate for it since this morning, but now it’s mine, let me have it–”
His tongue and his words pushed you higher and when his mouth closed over your clit, sucking, you shattered. Your orgasm swept over you, thighs shaking, mewling sounds falling from your mouth and Javy fucking groaned into your cunt. 
“Fuck, honey, you taste so good,” he moaned. “So beautiful, such a pretty pussy, and you did so good for me...”
You were obsessed with how he sounded, how he felt and your orgasm ebbed into a tide of needing him, more of him. You reached for him as your head cleared, pushing him away from your still throbbing pussy, and pulling him up. 
God, you loved how his shoulders felt under your fingers. He was so warm, supple, and you knew how good his hugs were, but you were ready for another kind of embrace. You reached for his pants with shaking hands, and Javy chuckled at your enthusiasm before helping you. As his pants slid down his thighs, he reached for the pocket, but you stayed his hand. 
“I’m clean,” you said, your voice hoarser than you thought it’d be. Maybe you’d been making more noise than you thought. If the way Javy’s eyes darkened as he heard it were any indication, he liked how you sounded like this. 
“Me too,” he said, after a moment. 
“Then I don’t need that,” you said, lifting your chin at the slacks, and the condom presumably in a pocket somewhere, “if you don’t.”
You hadn’t realized much Javy was a creature of motion until the moment, when he went completely still. 
“You want me,” he said, his voice so fucking low, so hot, “bare inside your pussy?”
The temperature of the room shot up 15 degrees, you were absolutely sure of it. 
“Please,” was all you could manage, and then Javy tackled you. 
You would’ve laughed, but you were too distracted by how much of his warm body was covering yours. Strong arms, broad thighs, tight stomach, all pressed up against you, as his mouth found yours for an eager kiss. 
You tasted yourself on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth, your hands covering as much of his skin as you could reach. You felt his muscles ripple under your touch–shoulders, back, abs–as you smoothed over his body, trailing down to his boxers. 
After the amount of time he’d spent with your ass earlier, you figured it was only fair to return the favor. Your fingers snuck under the edge of his boxers, slid around to push them over his butt, squeezing experimentally as you did. Javy’s hips slammed forward at your caress and you both gasped. 
He felt huge. 
Maybe it was the angle, him over you, maybe it was the fact that he was between your thighs, but you were breathless at how he felt. You rolled your hips and you groaned as you felt the hard, hot, length of him press against your core, even through the thin cotton of his boxers. 
Javy shucked them off the rest of the way and when he resettled between your hips, you glanced down. You could feel yourself salivating at the sight of his hard dick against your stomach. Everything about Javy was beautiful, you knew that already, but it was one thing to watch him take himself into his hand across a kitchen, and another to see his fat cock against your body. You felt hyper aware, needy, like your whole body was begging to feel the stretch of him, and when Javy pushed off of you to line himself up, it took everything in you to not try to work yourself onto him early. 
When you looked back up at Javy, you were breathless for another reason. He looked fond and smug and amused all at once, and you were just so infatuated with his handsome self. You were trying to come up with something snarky when he moved, his cock sliding between your folds, teasing both of you. Your eyes fell shut at the perfect motion. He was so thick, so hot, it was going to be a hell of a stretch, but you were desperate for it. 
He pulled back, and then pushed against you again, and you actually whined. He laughed, amused, and lined himself up, and then neither of you were laughing. 
When his cock breached you, you couldn’t lay still. 
Your hands scrambled over the bed, scratching sheets and needing to be grounded, anchored, something to help you take the gorgeous pressure of his hot dick. He felt so good, so big and so steady, and your mouth fell open as he pressed in. 
“Fucking Christ,” Javy swore, his voice sounding gone. “You’re so tight, honey, shit.”
You whined, trying to cant your hips to take him, willing your body to give. Your skin felt hot, feverish and you worked your hips for a moment, desperate. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with before, but you’d also already come, and surely it’d be fine–Javy moved again and you winced at the pressure.
This couldn’t be happening. 
You pressed your lips together, knowing you were wet, knowing it was going to be a stretch
but the discomfort only grew.  God, how was this happening? You wanted him so badly, you knew he’d feel good, but Javy pulled back to press into you again and your stomach dropped. 
“Wait,” you gasped, your hands curling into fists against his shoulders. Javy froze, immediately, and it only made you feel worse. You hated this, you wanted to be good enough, you wanted to feel him, why couldn’t you just take it. 
“Cross?” Javy asked, worry clouding his voice and you felt awful. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, embarrassed, covering your eyes with your hands. You knew it wasn’t your fault, or even his, but you still felt like you’d done something wrong, like you should be able to just take him. 
“Hey, hey,” Javy said softly, and he pulled out gently, but you couldn’t stop the wince when the pressure eased. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”
You felt the bed shift as Javy moved, settling to sit against the headboard, and immediately pulling you into his arms. You went easily, preferring hiding in his chest to hiding behind your hand, and Javy’s arms were reassuring around you. He was so warm, and you appreciated that he didn’t seem at all frustrated, only concerned that you were okay.  
“Cut that apology shit out right now,” he murmured against your hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
You knew he was right, but you hated that you felt this way. Your body was throbbing, desperate to take him, wanting to feel him, but you just
couldn’t. You felt yourself calming down as he continued to hold you, and you could tell Javy felt you settling too. 
“Do you want to stop?” he asked, and your heart thumped, knowing he would. God, he was such a good guy, to jump straight to suggesting you guys stop, rather than trying to find alternatives. 
“I don’t,” you said, truthfully. “I want to be able to take you, I want to keep trying, but I also don’t want it to hurt.”
“Baby
” Javy pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you hated that you could hear in his voice that he felt bad. 
“Can we try another position?” you asked, before he could start apologizing for something that was no more his fault than yours. 
“Whatever you want,” Javy agreed, and you pulled back to look at him. He meant that, he really did. You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his cheek, smiling sheepishly as you pulled back. 
“Why don’t I try being on top?” you suggested.
Javy’s eyes closed and he drew in a slow breath through his nose. 
“Have I told you lately you’re my dream girl?” he asked, and you smiled. 
“I don’t think you’ve told me ever,” you pointed out, not at all bothered by the fact, flattered by it, more than anything. You pushed yourself off his chest, swinging one leg to settle over Javy’s lap, and you were stilled by his hand on your chin. When you met his eyes, his expression was one of utmost sincerity. 
“You are my dream girl,” he said, and despite everything – the fact that you were naked, the fact his head had been between your thighs, the fact his cock was leaking precum between you – that was what made your skin heat. 
You reached between you, your finger running over the length of his dick. 
“Even if I can’t take this right now?” you asked, hating the uncertainty in your voice. 
“No matter if,” he corrected, “you can’t take this right now.” 
His breath caught as your finger traced a vein, but he didn’t look away. He meant it, you realized, and it only made you more determined to take him. You could do it. 
Javy leaned back against the headboard and you positioned yourself over him, guiding his cock to your entrance. You licked your lips and pressed down until it hurt–only a short distance, but it wasn’t as overwhelming this time, because you were entirely in control. 
Javy’s hands smoothed down your side, settling on your ass again, and your lips quirked into a smile, amused that Javy Machado was an ass man. You worked your hips slightly, trying to stretch yourself out, and reached between your thighs to play with your clit. 
Javy groaned.
You looked up at him, but he wasn’t looking at your face; his eyes were glued to where your hand was rubbing over your clit. 
“Such a pretty pussy,” Javy mumbled, almost entranced, and you smiled at his sweet admiration. You spread your fingers into a v, feeling around where he was pressing into you, smoothing back up to your clit. 
“Can’t believe–” he broke off, shaking his head. “I got to see you come this morning, and then on my face, and now I get to watch you work yourself onto my dick.”
He said it like it was an honor, like you weren’t working yourself onto the biggest cock in Uncle Sam’s navy, like it was his privilege. His admiration warmed you, worked through you as your fingers brushed over your clit. You felt your knees slide further apart as you were able to take more of him. The extra inch felt like yards, but it felt so good, so right, to take him into you. 
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he promised, and you realized his hands on your ass were lifting, helping. He was taking some of the weight off your thighs, literally holding you in his hands, so you wouldn’t be pressured to take him too fast. 
“So big, Javy,” you panted. “God, you’re stretching me so good.”
Javy’s hips pushed up slightly at your words, and it stung, but with your hand working your clit and the way he was holding you steady, it was more pressure than pain. 
“You can’t talk to me like that, honey,” he warned. “I’m trying real hard to be gentle here, you can’t talk dirty to me and not make me mess up.”
A part of you wanted him to mess up, wanted him to just ram into you, and you could deal with it later. Another part of you relished the stretch, accepted the slow burn of sinking onto him torturously slow. You felt hyper aware of him, of you, and every millimeter of him that you took, only made you want him more. 
“You talk to me then,” you muttered, and Javy huffed out a laugh.
“What do you want to hear, huh?” he asked. “How fucking good you feel? How hard I am for you, how I feel like I’m throbbing for you, how bad I can’t wait to be inside you?”
Your fingers worked faster, and you moaned, bearing down. “Yeah, that’ll do.”
“We’ll get you there, honey,” he soothed, his cock easing into you, slow and thick and fucking perfect. “With how good you feel around my dick? Honey, we’re not gonna stop. We’re gonna train this pussy, soon enough, she’ll be able to take me.”
You whimpered at the thought, at the mere concept of being so stuffed with Javy’s cock that eventually your body would just adapt to it. You shifted your hips on principle, determined to take more of him, and Javy chuckled. 
“And then can you imagine the hell we’ll get into? Quickies in the shower after a long day of drills, in the back seat of a car–fuck, baby, to think I could slide into this pussy whenever I want, ready for me, to take me–”
He pressed deeper, a motion that bordered on painful, but soothed by the sweetness of his words. You wanted that, so badly, for your body to always be ready for his. Javy pulled back, just slightly, rocking into you, and you whimpered. 
“Feels so good, Javy,” you whispered, feeling yourself sink lower. 
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward to brush loose kisses over your skin. “You’re so beautiful, so good, and working so hard to take my dick.”
His words sent goosebumps over your skin, and you wondered if you should be embarrassed by how much you wanted to be good for him. 
It took a while. 
You didn’t know how long, but eventually you realized that though you were still shaking, you were no longer hovering. You were in Javy’s lap, your arms curled between your bodies and your hips pressed flush against his, his cock entirely inside of you. 
He felt
unreal. Enormous, like you could only breathe when he did, but so fucking good. 
“I did it,” you breathed, and when you looked up at Javy, he was grinning down at you. He looked proud, he looked pleased, he looked so damn pretty you wanted to never leave his lap.
“How’s it feel?” he asked, and you took a moment to bask in his pride. 
“Pretty good,” you teased lightly, and Javy had the expected reaction of affronted indignation. 
“Pretty good,” he sputtered, like it was sacrilege. “Wanna try again?”
You shook your head, smiling, and it was knocked right off your face when he lifted his hips. It wasn’t a thrust, it wasn’t like he’d pulled out, but Javy pushed up into you like he was doing a hip press at the gym. Your jaw dropped open as his thighs flexed under your ass, pushing impossibly deeper into your cunt. 
“So full,” you gasped, and Javy grunted like that was an acceptable answer. “Fuck, Javy, you feel so big. I can’t– feels like you’re everywhere; I love it.”
“That’s better,” he muttered, his voice dark. “Because you feel like fucking everything to me, honey. So tight, and warm, fitting me like a glove after you worked so hard to stretch this pussy over me.”
You did feel stretched and his words sent pulses of heat through you. The burning stretch of him eased as your body tingled with arousal, wanting to feel him, needing to feel him. 
“Need you to move, Jay,” you whispered, and Javy’s hips punched up in response. 
“You need me,” he repeated almost to himself, and you both moaned when his dick slid out of you partway, before he fed it back to you slowly. “That’s right, sweetheart, first you were embarrassed because you couldn’t take it, but now that you have this cock, you just want more?”
“Please,” you whimpered, astonished to find you were actually close to tears. You wanted that, wanted him, wanted the stretch and the pressure and the motion of his hips. You tried to lift yourself off of him, but your legs were shaking so bad, so overstimulated by the fullness of him in you, but you were desperate for it. 
“S’okay, baby,” Javy practically purred, his voice sweet and dark and deep. “I’ll help you.” 
His hands closed around your waist, gripping you tightly. He lifted you off his cock, pulling his hips back and then bringing you back down into him. You moaned at the sensation, perfect and overwhelming and so strong, feeling every gorgeous inch of his cock. 
“Feels so good,” you mumbled, and Javy groaned. 
“Honey, you have no idea,” he grunted, and he lifted you again. 
It was slow, it was impossibly deep, but it was everything. You felt drunk on the deep stretch of him, the way you could feel his eyes on you, the way every breath he took you felt against your skin. You felt so connected to him, so overwhelmed by him, and the slow press of his cock. He pulled you forward, rocking your hips down into him and when your clit brushed against him, you jolted. 
“That’s it,” Javy encouraged, pushing his cock deeper, and you felt your body trembling. “Honey, you’re doing so good. You feel so fucking good around me, I can’t–”
He settled into a rhythm, pulling you up and bringing you down, bruising your clit and fucking you against gravity. He moved you over him like a fleshlight and you had no control over your body, the sounds spilling out of you. He felt so good, so slow and steady and deep; it was perfect and you were overwhelmed. 
“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, amazed to find it was true. Just from the steady press of him, the deep pressure, the teasing brush of your clit, you were somehow there again. 
“Ah, please, honey, let me see it,” Javy groaned, and he buried his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as he moved you over him, your body climbing higher. 
You felt him everywhere, like a heartbeat, like your pulse, and you crested before you could realize it was there. Your body felt liquid, like it would never stop shaking, like this was what you were made for, to take his cock like this. Your head swam as you slumped into him, your hips throwing your pussy at Javy as your orgasm worked through you, your body pulsing and sated.  
The room was a dreamlike haze as you came back to yourself. 
You were on your back on the bed, and Javy was hovering over you, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized his arms were shaking with the effort to hold himself still. 
God, he was so beautiful. 
His perfect body, his incredible strength, had nothing to the beauty of his heart, the way he had worked you through that and was now carefully watched you, smiling hesitantly when he realized you were back. Your throat felt hoarse and you swallowed slightly before lifting your hips weakly. 
Javy’s breath punched out of him and his eyes clenched shut as he dropped to his elbows over you. 
“Sweetheart
” he groaned, and his voice sent tingles over your skin. You loved how strung out he sounded, how he was holding on just by a thread, and you wanted him to come undone. 
“Fuck me, Jay,” you whispered, and his eyes opened, looking between yours. 
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice hoarse, and you needed it, suddenly. You nodded, pressing your lips together, wanting it more than anything. You knew you were adjusted to his size, for the immediate future at least, and you wanted to know how he’d feel finding his pleasure in you, driving into you when his release was the goal, wanted to be the reason for it. 
“I can take it,” you whispered, and Javy surged up to kiss you. 
It was messy, mostly gasping breath and clashing teeth, and then his arms wound under your back, and his hands wrapped around your shoulders as he settled into you. You were just about to think that it was a sweet embrace, when he started moving. 
Javy pulled out of you and slammed back in, and you cried out. 
Gone was the gentleness with which he’d coaxed you, gone was the steady control, the gentle pace. In its place was a gnawing, gaping desire, and you could feel how badly Javy needed this. You moaned with the thrust and it seemed to spur Javy on. He pulled back and pushed back in again, just as deep, just as strong, just as perfect. 
Fuck, he was so big, filled you so damn well like this, and how he was moving made you dizzy. He settled into a punishing pace that left you breathless, but who needed air, when you had dick this good? 
He was everywhere. 
Pressing you into the mattress, shoving his cock into your cunt, clutching you to him, overwhelming and everywhere and everywhere. You couldn’t tell where he stopped and you began, felt like an extension of his pleasure and the thought nearly sent you out of your mind. 
“How is it still so tight?” Javy grunted, and you moaned at the tremble in his voice, like he was just as awed and exhausted as you were. “Fuck, honey, you’re so perfect. Taking me so damn well, pulling me into this hot cunt, it’s so good–” 
His hips slammed into you, each stroke brushing your walls and making you feel so full. His body weight over you felt like the only thing grounding you, and you moved with him, for him, all for him. The room was thick with the smell of your shared sweat and your cum, and Javy’s panting breath in your ears was the perfect chorus. 
You could feel Javy getting close, could feel his thrusts go from determined to desperate and you were lost in it. For how well he’d fucked you, how carefully he’d held you, you needed him to come. Heat spiraled through you, your mind blanking as you realized you were whining with each sure stroke he made. 
“Need you to come,” you whimpered, breaking off when Javy’s hips stuttered. “Please, Javy, feels so good, need to feel you–”
Javy arched his back to kiss your neck. His teeth closed over your skin, his tongue laving over you, and you moaned. 
“You know how to make that happen, sweetheart,” he whispered against your neck, and you shook your head as his meaning sunk in. 
“I can’t,” you managed, even as your thighs started shaking. He’d pulled so much pleasure from your body, and you didn’t know if you could survive another wave
oh, but how he sounded. His soft grunts, the growl in his voice, the heavy sound his balls made as he pushed into you. 
“I think you can,” Javy said, closing his lips and sucking. You keened, your body overwrought and unmoored, just orbiting around him. His strong hands, the taste of his sweat, the rhythm of his hips, the only things that were real. 
His hands on your shoulders tightened, crushing you to him and something in the angle changed. He brushed a different part of you, deeper, softer, and your breath caught.
“Just there?” Javy asked, proud and breathless. “That’s the spot that’ll get this pussy to come again?”
“Javy–” you moaned, as he hit it again, and again.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Javy soothed, his dick driving into you. “You’ve done so good for me, this pussy has been so fucking good, and I know you can do it again. Let me feel it, honey, let me feel this tight pussy come for me one more time, fucking take it, come on.”
He was fucking you into the bed, his thighs and his words reorienting your world. You felt so full of him, so precious and receptive and you knew that you might never recover from it, but if he asked you to come again, your body would do it. 
“Baby,” you whimpered, and Javy groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. 
“I’ve got you,” he mumbled into the bed. “Ah, shit, honey, you feel so good. Like you were made for me, to take this cock–oh my god, yes, that’s it, just like that
”
“Take me,” you begged, “Please, Javy, I need–”
“Yes, fuck,” Javy groaned, his thrusts turning frantic. “Kiss me.”
You didn’t know where he found the strength but he surged up to kiss you, pressing your lips together as your bodies writhed together. You pushed and pulled together, breathing from each other and for each other, and the heat burned impossibly hotter between you. You felt light-headed, you felt close and Javy moaned as you tightened around him. You whined against his lips as you came, your orgasm cresting over you, and just moments later, Javy shouted as he came. He was so wonderful, his body thrusting into yours, his hips working you both through it, his groans growing louder as he emptied into you. 
It felt right, it felt final, as his warm cum thrust into you, and you turned your head to find him again. 
This was a lazy kiss. Indulgent and sloppy, exhausted and messy, and you smiled when you felt Javy come back to you, returning the kiss slowly. You liked that his arms were still around you, that his dick was still inside you. You felt held, treasured, at peace. 
You kissed Javy gently, another realization brewing in your mind. 
Here, with this man, you felt at home. 
//the end
taglist: @laracrofted @mxgyver @callsign-fangirl @cheekymcgrath @blowmymbackout @daggerspare-standingby @javihoney @sebsxphia @princessphilly @roosterforme @rae-gar-targaryen @hangmanssunnies @blckgrl-sunflower @beyondthesefourwalls @callsignspark @sushiwriterhere @taytaylala12 @katiedid-3 @stoptaking-the-good-names @passion-persistence-patienc-blog @hangmanbrainrot
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reunitedinterlude · 6 months ago
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lofi phantasy: the album
track 20: box boys
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crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington · 2 years ago
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ethan desrved so much betterrr ususghhshshsdaaaa
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feelingpure · 1 year ago
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Fellow Travelers will rip your heart out:
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(Ugh, ouch, pain; Tim's face in those shots...)
Then immediately cut to:
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(Heh, I wasn't expecting the old-married-couple levels of domestic bickering!)
Followed by:
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(Lmao, Hawk can be honest and funny?)
And this jab from Tim:
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(Oop-)
Tim (and me) at the end of the scene:
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fryday · 3 months ago
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I have a hc that Phil goes to bed earlier because he needs more sleep because of his migraines/dizziness but that after he gets ready for bed he always goes to wherever Dan is in the house to kiss him good night
Actually you could have just punched me and it would have had a less severe impact on me than reading this just did.
(Send me your domestic dnp HCs / observations!)
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thechibilitwick · 21 days ago
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the yaoi hype stayed !!
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ouh my god oh.Ohmygodn
.whwhswhhw WHATTTT!!!!! killed by domestic yaoi beam
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lavend3r-stardust · 9 days ago
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Kiss me softly on nape of my neck and wrap your arms around my back as you nuzzle your face against my shoulder <33
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soullessjack · 9 months ago
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Also just since my one jack-psychosis post made its rounds i’d love to add on these things for extra salt in the wound:
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-> “jack smiles, so happy to be so needed, so loved.”
-> “they’ll never want to be friends again.” [“and that’s important to you?”] “they raised me. taught me to be who i am.”
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skitskatdacat63 · 2 years ago
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POV: Mark Webber is your house husband
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scripturiends · 2 years ago
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two clips where jerome and joy weren’t even officially together yet but they were acting like they’ve been dating for more than a year 😭
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fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma · 1 year ago
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domestic zukka hc: zuko’s love language is physical touch & sokka loves nothing more than the shy surprise on zuko’s face whenever sokka gives him exactly what he wants.
sokka had his suspicions zuko was extremely tactile, but it took him a few months to compile a mental register of just all the ways zuko likes to be touched by sokka. Whether it’s a hand on his thigh, a thumb running over the back of his hand, or sokka’s fingers latched around his wrist when they’re walking; whether it’s a soft kiss on his cheek, his forehead, the nape of his neck, the inside of his knee; whether it’s their hands intertwining out of sheer habit; whether it’s the soothing feeling of sokka’s fingers gently scratching his scalp when zuko lays his head in sokka’s lap; whether it’s sokka tenderly cradling zuko’s face with overwhelming tenderness every chance he gets, because he knows that’s zuko’s absolute favourite; whether it’s sokka kissing the top of his head goodnight when zuko’s laying on his chest, caressing zuko’s cheekbone with a lazy thumb until his breath evens out and he’s asleep and safe in sokka’s warmth.
It’s the casual intimacy that always gets to zuko and reminds him hourly of just how much he adores and trusts sokka. It’s the physical manifestation of giving and receiving the kind of love he never thought he’d be able to experience. It’s the mute reassurance sokka feels the same exact way about him.
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hi what the fuck is this. HIGSHJBAJHBHJBABJHSBHJHJBSHBJABHJAHBJHBJSHJBSHJBHJBSHJBAJHKJKAKJAKKAJSJSKKA UMMMMMMMM???? E X C U S E M E????? this is tHE BEST THING. EVER???? So hahahaaaaa what iffffff I reread this one million billion times??? What then?? So franceblr how does a gift basket wrapped in silk and ribbons sound? With a lil sticky note and flower attached to it? You deserve it for this. How does it feel to be the flame that melted my cold, icy heart. How does. How do you feel after dropping this like it shouldn’t belong in a MUSEUM. THIS ASK IS A NATIONAL TREASURE 😭😭
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jessiesjaded · 1 year ago
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X files season 9 au where Scully still helps out on cases like she does but rather than being on the run, Mulder embraced being fired in s8 and is just happily being a stay at home dad and we get cute Baby William content
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 3 months ago
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How would satorus life be with his lover if he retires/quits sorcery hypothetically.. đŸ„č (or in a world where curses disappear like the prev asks you got :3)
HMMM
.. well, like i said in that ask, i do think this kind of shift would make gojo pretty miserable 😭 but if he had a partner by his side, then it’d work out better!! it’d still take a lot of getting used to, but i could see him indulging in all the things he never got to do — spending every hour of the day clinging to you, sleeping in until the sun sits high up in the sky, ordering a big breakfast and watching silly shows until you fall asleep again. a domestic, mundane life doesn’t exactly suit gojo, but i do think it’s what he craves. once he’s adjusted to his new life, i could see him enjoying it thoroughly :3 he also becomes your house husband. btw. i know and perceive the truth
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ridiculously-over-obsessed · 6 months ago
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I love that I finally got Beca and Chloe together but writing this cute domestic scenes takes FOREVER because I end up giggling and kicking my feet instead of writing
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