#they both look so good in scrubs
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
ellelans · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hi,Grant.You yell or make noise,I'll tear your trachea out and your last thought will be 'Holy shit, he really did it."
Reacher 2x07.
34 notes · View notes
lesbianraskolnikov · 6 months ago
Text
I hate when Crime Punishments 2007 Epilogue creeps into my mind i start coughing and hacking. THEY DIDNT HAVE TO EDIT IT LIKE THAT??? That's where all our budget went we couldn't make another episode I'm sorry.
0 notes
classyrbf · 2 months ago
Text
PART 2 OF PRISONER!GETO
Tumblr media
prisoner!geto who can’t stop thinking about late at night, getting so worked up and horny, the most horny he’s been in a while. He’s pulling his pants down, closing his eyes while he pictures the way your scrubs clung to your body and showed off your ass. He thanks god he doesn’t have a bunkie or else he’d be in a real awkward position. He purposely gets into another fight a week later, the wound on his lip opening back up. He’s smiling to himself as he gets walked to the infirmary knowing he’ll see you there.
“Not you again,” you sigh.
“Told you I’d see you soon, doctor.” He sits on the small bed, watching as you put on gloves and examine his busted lip. He can tell you’re avoiding eye contact with him, trying your hardest to ignore his stares and slight touches. “Have you thought about my offer yet?” He asks.
You gulp, blinking as you rub the ointment over his wound. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play stupid, but you remember your last conversation so clearly. It makes you nervous. All he does is laugh.
“Come on. I’ll even beg.” He grabs your wrist, slowing pulling it down, a smug smirk on his handsome face. “You telling me you haven’t thought about it once since we last seen each other?” He whispers. He parts his legs, pulling you in between them. And god, you smell so good. So sweet. He could just eat you up right here.
You stand there, unable to form words because as much as you want to say no, you want to say yes. He makes your heart race and your pussy wet. What a sly bastard. With his stupid tattoos, muscles, hair and chiseled face. You hate how much effect he has on you.
“Listen,” he rubs a hand down your waist, “meet me in the supply closet by the showers during lunchtime if you’re really down.” He flashed a smile before standing to his feet and walking out the infirmary. “Bye, bye, doctor.”
Come lunchtime, you walked through the halls of the prison, mentally cursing at yourself. It’s just one time, one time. You bet he won’t even be there, that he’s just playing a stupid joke cause he’s bored with himself. And as you reach out to open the supply door, your heart beats against your ribcage, looking around to find the halls empty. You step in, seeing him leaning against the wall, the faint rays of light allowing you to make out some of his features. “Well, look who it is,” he chuckles. “Came here to help me out, doc?” He walks over to you, trapping you between him and the door.
“Shut up already and let’s get it over with.” You smash your lips on his, kissing him with such urgency and fervor. His large hands grab at your ass, squeezing and groping it as he pushes you against the wall, knocking a few things over. You both pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen. “We gotta be quick,” you whisper, undoing his jumpsuit while he pulls down your pants.
“More eager than I am, huh?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “Come here.” He bends you over the small wooden table, snatching your panties off and getting a good feel of your ass. His dick jumps, pre cum already leaking from the swollen tip. He’s already so worked up, so ready to feel your wet and tight cunt. “Fuck,” he grunts, running his head over your sopping slit, nudging your clit slightly. “Already so fucking wet.”
He pushes his throbbing tip past your folds, a small gasp leaving your lips when you feel how thick he is. Inch by inch you feel the stretch, you mouth agape as you try and grow accustomed to his size. Geto’s entire body shivers, his fingers pressing into your skin so hard you’re sure he’d leave marks. “Ohhh shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. God, it’s been so fucking long since he’s had some good pussy and he can already tell he won’t last long. He finally bottoms out, feeling your walls clench around his length, sucking him in. “My god,” he laughs in your ear. “Lemme just enjoy this feeling—fuckkk—for a moment,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut.
He finally starts moving his hips, feeling his tip press against your cervix with each thrust. With each passing second, he gets faster, fucking your harder and rougher, your pussy has got him in a trance. “Pussy feels so fucking good,” he grips your hips, pulling you back towards him so you can meet his thrusts. One of his hands reach around your throat, gripping it just enough as he pulls you back against his broad chest. “Do you fuck all of your patients or am I just special?” He jokes.
“Mmmm…shut—ah—up!” You cry out, whimpering when he presses up against you, finding a new angle that makes your eyes roll back. “Just keep fucking me,”you say with a raspy breath.
“Doctors orders.” He can feel the way your pussy leaks, your juices dripping down his shaft and make his cock ache like never before. It almost hurts. He hold you tighter against him, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room. “You take it so well,” he breathes against your skin, pressing wet kisses to your neck. “So fucking well.” His thrusts grow sloppier, chasing his own orgasm. But in the distance, he hears the guards walking down the hall. “Shh, shh, shh.” His hand covers your mouth, his thrusts becoming slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock, every vein, every pulse before hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.
Your eyes squeeze shut, trying your hardest to keep quiet, the guard getting closer and closer. Their keys jingle with each step and their voices grow louder. “Atta girl. You feel how fucking deep I am…shiittt. Keep fucking squeezing me like that—yeah, yeah you’re gonna make me fucking cum.” His brows furrow as he bites down as his bottom lip in attempts to contain his moans, but his abs tense up and his entire body shakes before he’s filling you up, stuffing you with his sticky, hot cum. “No, no, don’t you dare move. Just like thattt, oh yes!” His eyes roll back, still cumming. His pushes his cum deeper inside of you, feeling it leak back out before he finally pulls out.
Geto truly wishes he could’ve had more time with you. His mouth drooling over the mere thought of how you taste, wanting to make you cum on his tongue, but for now he’ll have to settle for this. “You came inside me, asshole!” You pull your pants back up, turning to face him.
“Couldn’t let it go to waste.” He reaches out and stroke your cheek. “Right?”
“Whatever.” You swat his hand away. “Where are my underwear?” You look around the dimly lit room before realizing he was holding them.
“I’ll be keeping these for later,” he swung them in your face before stuffing them in his pocket.
“You’re such a pervert.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“You have my cum running down your leg right now.” He places a finger under your chin, tilting it towards him as he leans down and kisses you slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before catching your bottom lip. “Mmm, thank you, doctor.” He smiles before kissing you once more.
You push him off of you, trying to process everything you just did right now. It was so wrong but it felt so right, so good, so intoxicating. “If it makes you feel any better, I get out in six months.”
“No. This was a one time thing.” You place a hand on his chest, shaking your head.
“Was it? Cause I don’t think it was. Not with the way your pussy was squeezing around me. It was almost like she was made for me.” He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes searches yours, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Yeah…it definitely isn’t the last time.”
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
bruhstories · 5 months ago
Text
sweet like honey ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚
summary: logan ended up spending his evenings in the bar across the street from your bakery, watching you do your job. he never approached you, never talked to you, but he always kept an eye on you, until he has a bad feeling. pairing: logan x fem!reader warning & content: swearing, violence, reader almost gets assaulted (but logan saves the day), she/her pronouns for reader, wade being wade, unprotected p in v, fluff, angst, lots of baking and mentions of food, slightly ooc logan (if you squint), slow burn, sex in a bakery wc: 6k
a/n: i don't always write, but when i do, it's a fucking thesis. unedited.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
Logan was never a fan of sweets. He hated chocolate, cheesecake, gummy bears — literally anything sweet. The only thing he could barely stomach was tiramisu, and only because it had coffee in it. Other than that, he steered away from sweets like they were the fucking plague.
Yet despite all that, he found himself enjoying the smell of freshly baked croissants, custard donuts, brownies, and whatever goods you baked in your little bakery, conveniently situated across the street from his go-to bar.
Cleverly named Flour Power, it was all pastel both inside and out, with little pots of hyacinths hanging from its window and a big sign above the entrance. Not that Logan ever went there, but he always walked past it when he went for a drink. Flour Power stood out from all the shops with its baby blue windowsills and bubblegum pink door. As much as he disliked vibrant colours, his eyes were always drawn to the bakery. But not because of how it looked or the way it smelled.
No, Logan strategically sat down by the window in the bar to see you. Every evening, he watched you sell everything you had on display, from wedding cakes to éclairs, greetings customers with a warm smile on your face. He watched you turn the sign from open to closed, lock the door, clean the display shelves, the counters, the only two tables and four chairs inside, and sweep and mop the floors. Then you disappeared in the back for a while, perhaps doing the dishes or preparing dough and frosting, before you walked out, locked the door again, pulled down the blinds over the big window on the right side of the door, and left.
It became a ritual for Logan to watch you. In a way, it brought him some peace, despite him never speaking to you. To him, you were innocence personified, the type of girl who made others feel better simply by being there, and he didn't want to disturb that peace.
Tonight was an ordinary night for the 200 year old mutant. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, drank it all, then went to the bar to ask for another round, killing time until you closed the bakery, then he could finally go back to the apartment. You closed at 7 for clients and left at 8:30 every evening except for Sundays, when you didn't work. Logan knew your schedule a little to well, even knew you opened for clients at 8 in the morning, but you were there much earlier, because he could smell the pastries at around half 6. This time, however, you seemed to have a bit more work. It was past 9, it was dark, and you still hadn't left, and Logan was slightly concerned.
He watched you like a hawk, how you tucked rebellious strands of hair behind your ear when you mopped the floor, how you wiped your hands on your cute little apron after you finished scrubbing the countertops. Logan thought you had extra orders from customers, perhaps a wedding cake. He scrunched his nose at the thought of having to try so many flavours only to pick a damn cake that he probably wouldn't enjoy anyway.
But finally, you were done.
It was almost 10 when you locked the door to the bakery, double checking to make sure it wouldn't budge. Then the blinds and off you went. Logan was satisfied to see you go, but the hairs on his back suddenly stood up, his nostrils filled with the scent of danger. Bitter, sour, it went straight to his brain, and so he finished his drink and left the bar, following you down the street but keeping a safe distance.
You walked past a group of drunk men, gripping your tote bag with your left hand and your keys with your right one. You've learned to place the keys between your fingers, like claws, in case someone attacked you. Going home at that time wasn't something you enjoyed, and you always tried to avoid working late, but sometimes that was inevitable. When you heard footsteps approaching you, you picked up the pace, but paranoia kicked in, and you didn't want whoever was following you to find out where you lived, and so you took a detour.
Logan was like your shadow, going everywhere you went, until he heard something drop in a dimly lit alleyway and he sped up, finding you round a corner, pinned to a wall by a man while another guy had his hand up your dress. It was too dark to see, but Logan didn't need eyes to know that was you. He could smell the vanilla extract and icing sugar and fear.
"Take my wallet!" You told the men, but they weren't there for the money. They wanted something else from you.
"Nah, doll, I'll take something else from you. Somethin' more precious than money." One of the men said, his breath reeking of alcohol, the cheap kind.
"Hurry up and fuck her, bro, I need my turn-"
Something flashed, then a shadow lunged at the second guy who couldn't even finish his sentence before he was struck down.
"Mike?" The man who pinned you against the wall asked, his hands trembling on your body. "Stop fucking around."
But Mike was seeing stars somewhere on the alleyway. It happened so quickly you couldn't understand what was going on. When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, you saw him, rough, handsome and very, very angry.
"Who the fuck are you?" The man asked, but all he got in response was a guttural growl. "Hey, man, I don't want any trouble. My girlfriend and I were just talking. Stay out of it." He grabbed you by the neck, dragging you away from Logan.
You seized the opportunity and wrestled out of his grasp by biting your assaulter's hand, dashing behind a bin.
"Ow! Fucking bitch!" He lunged at you, but Logan was quicker, piercing his claws through his shoulder and holding him in place.
"That's no way to talk to a lady." The mutant snarled, and you watched how his claws retracted before he punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him down.
He was the Wolverine. You had seen it all over the news, how he saved your universe, how he came from a different world. You couldn't believe he was the one helping you when you thought no one would save you in that moment.
"You alright, kid?" His raspy voice startled you and you barely nodded, still too shocked to move or speak. "You sure?"
You shook your head and tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally started to process what just happened. Logan scrunched his nose — comforting someone wasn't his strongest skill — and instead he picked up your bag and keys from the pavement.
"Shit, um, don't cry." He handed you your belongings, and you looked up at him with a frown.
How could you not cry when you saw your entire life flashing before your eyes? Logan swallowed a lump in his throat and offered his hand to help you stand up. You looked at his hand, reluctant to grab it. The only thing he could compare you with was a cat — cautious, yet curious.
"No claws." He said when he understood the meaning behind your eyes. "Come, I'll- um, I'll walk you home."
The invitation had you perk up and gain courage, and you quietly took the bag from his hand. He walked with you in complete silence, until you stopped in front of a building. You lingered, unwilling to go in. Logan asked if that was your place, and after you nodded, he offered to take you all the way to your apartment, which made you feel relieved. He could see it on your face when you sighed. You guided him up the stairs, constantly looking behind you to make sure he was there.
You stopped in front of a tall wooden door, keys in hand.
"Go on. I'll wait until you lock the door." Logan encouraged you.
"Can you stay?" You finally spoke, and your voice was sweet like honey, fitting for a baker.
"I don't know, kid-"
"Please." You looked at him with glossy eyes, pupils blown from the fear that hadn't left your body yet. The fear he could still smell.
"Yeah. Okay, I'll stay."
"Thank you."
Logan followed you in, and you flipped the light switch on before locking the door behind him. He looked around and, just as he expected, the apartment was a direct reflection of your bakery — clean, colourful and calm. There were recipes stuck to the walls with pink pins, and between them little paintings of sunsets, skies, flowers, cats. All things cute. They weren't framed, and so Logan figured they were hand-made, his assumptions confirmed by the easel in the corner of your living room.
Of course your sofa had to be colourful, too — mustard yellow with sage green cushions and blankets. Even your curtains were sage green. Despite the explosion of colours, Logan found himself enjoying being there. Not everything had to be brown, black and grey, he thought. Probably the only vibrant thing in his life was his suit, since the only people that brought colour were his friends, and they were gone.
"Drink?" You cracked the walls he put up around his heart with that sweet voice.
You shook a bottle of gin to get his attention and he nodded. Logan wasn't a fan of gin, but he didn't expect you to have any hard liquors. He watched you pull out two blue glasses from the kitchen cabinet, and of course they had to be funky, with white flowers on them.
"Where'd you get these?" He asked, swirling the drink in his hand.
"I made them. Kind of." You said. "Bought them from a charity store and painted the flowers. Do you want some tonic water?"
"Fuck no." Logan choked on his gin when you asked him that question. Simply being in a place so... colourful was enough. He didn't need a girly drink.
"I'm Y/N, by the way."
"I'm-"
"The Wolverine!" You cut him off a little too eager.
"-Logan. Call me Logan." He cringed when the beverage tickled his taste buds. It wasn't bitter enough for him.
"Logan. Thanks for tonight. Is there any way I can repay you?"
The question was riddled with innocence, but he couldn't stop the degenerate thoughts that popped in his mind when you asked him that. You were just so pure that he wanted to both protect you and ruin you.
"Don't mention it. I couldn't just walk past without doing anything." Logan lied, because, really, he wasn't just walking by, was he? No, it was downright stalking.
"I could bake something for you." You offered and he shook his head.
"I don't like sweets, kid."
"What?" You were baffled. "Everybody likes something sweet."
"Not me." He shrugged. "All I like is tiramisu and only if those biscuits are doused in coffee."
"Ladyfingers." You corrected him with a chuckle. "They're called ladyfingers."
"Bullshit."
"I'm serious! Here!" You rushed to your pantry and pulled out a whole box of them, showing Logan the name.
"That's just stupid." He shook his head. "Who calls them ladyfingers?"
"Uh, everyone?" You laughed at his surprise, and the thoughts of your bad evening slowly dissipated, like a bad dream.
Logan truly was clueless about baking, but spent hours listening to you talk about types of sugar, extracts and their uses, and the difference between baking soda and baking powder in cooking. You rambled on and on and not once did he get bored. He could listen to you talk for hours with your voice soothing. Logan thought about it, and he genuinely never met someone like you before. The women in his life were all so different, but you took the cake. You were special in ways he couldn't understand. And he was just so drawn to you.
"I'm sorry, I haven't stopped talking once!" You apologised, realising how safe you felt with him there. You would never let a stranger inside your house, let alone talk about baking while having gin. But Logan wasn't a stranger. Not after he saved you.
"'s alright. It's not every day I learn about baking." He chuckled, finishing his drink. "Listen, I should get going."
"Right." You sighed, eyes darting at the floor. "No, of course. I've kept you too long."
Logan got up and you walked with him to the hallway. He was slow to put his leather jacket on, as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything, but when you didn't, he unlocked the door and opened it.
"Hey, Logan?" You tugged at his sleeve, whispering so you wouldn't wake your neighbours. "Are you sure I can't bake you something? Not now, I mean. I really want you to try something besides tiramisu. And that way I can repay you."
"Hell, why not?" He shrugged.
"Great!" You beamed at him like a child on Christmas day. "Stop by my bakery tomorrow at twelve. It's on Granville Street."
"I thought you didn't work on Sundays."
"Oh, how'd you know?" You quirked a brow at him.
Caught red-handed.
"Educated guess."
"Fair enough." His answer satisfied you. "Be there or be square!"
Sleep was for the weak. All night, Logan tossed and turned and abused his poor pillow with with punches. The mere thought of seeing you, no, interacting with you, had him wriggle like a worm on the mattress. It didn't help that Wade instantly noticed something was up.
"Oh, my, did you shower, peanut?"
"Not today, Satan." Logan poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Mmm, and what do I smell?" Wade sniffed the air. "Wait, is that my perfume?"
"Forgot to pack mine when I swapped universes." The Wolverine barked back.
"Hah!" Blind Al chimed in from the living room. "I think tall, dark and handsome here has a date!"
Logan rolled his eyes while Wade pouted, plopping on the sofa next to Al.
"You never called me that."
"That's cause you’re a degenerate." The woman snorted.
"Takes one to know one, doesn't it- ow! Stop hitting me with your cane, I know where you hide your nose candy!" Wade fought back.
"Touch it and I'll bust a cap in your ass!" Al scoffed.
"And I'll regenerate."
Logan used the opportunity to slip into the hallway, but his roommate was quicker, and blocked the door.
"You're not going anywhere until we have the talk."
"The talk?" The Wolverine snorted.
"Ah, they grow up so fast." Wade told Al. "Now, son, when a man and a woman love each other-"
"I'll give you three seconds to fuck off."
"Oh, but I need to know everything! Who is he?"
"She." Logan rolled his eyes.
"Oh my god, is this you coming out to us? Al, he's straight! I promise we love you anyway." Wade went for a hug and all Logan could do was accept it. He learned to live with Wade, even though he dislocated his jaw a few times after he moved in.
"Alright, that's enough."
"Nooo, we're just getting started. Name? Age? Occupation? We could do a double date with Vanessa-"
"Absolutely fucking not." Logan pushed Wade off of him.
"Okay, okay. Just make sure you wrap your willy, and if you need any advice, daddy's here." Wade opened the door for his roommate.
"Actually." Logan lingered in the hallway. "What kind of flowers do girls like?"
The blinds to the bakery were closed but you were inside, pastries in the oven and dessert in the fridge. You couldn't help yourself and prepared something savoury as well, in case he didn't like the lemon cake. A knock on the door startled you, and you rushed to check who it was.
Logan stood there, a bouquet of peonies in his hand. You welcomed him in with a smile, but he could tell it was different than the one you flashed your customers. It seemed more genuine. And it felt like a date.
"These are for you." Logan handed you the flowers, taking in the scent of pork pies. "I thought you were gonna bake something sweet." He flared his nostrils.
"I did, I just thought I should have a plan B in case you didn't like my cake." You placed the bouquet in a vase on one of your tables. "How did you know I liked peonies?"
Logan couldn't believe Wade was right about those damn flowers. And there he was, thinking roses would be better. Maybe the Merc with a Mouth wasn't so bad after all.
"I had a hunch." He shrugged. 
"Well, Logan, I love them! Now sit, sit!" You ushered him to his seat. "I hope you're hungry, because there's a lot for you to try."
"A lot? I thought you'll make me a cupcake or somethin', bub."
"A cupcake?? Don't be silly." Just as you said that, the oven made a loud ding sound, and you turned on your heels, heading in the back.
Logan waited patiently, observing every little detail from the front of your bakery, from the spotless display shelves to the neatly organised paper bags, to the fairy lights around the window. It was obvious to him that you had put your mind, body and soul into this bakery, and his expectations were quite high after all the fuss you made. But he decided to be nice not matter how the food tasted. He couldn't bear seeing you upset if he didn't like what you made.
You reappeared with a tray in your hand, and on it two plates, one with a small pork pie, one with a croissant, and a cup of coffee. Hell, even the cutlery was cute, with swirls engraved on the handles of the fork, knife and teaspoon.
"I decided to leave the cake for last." You said, placing the tray in front of him. "This is a simple pork pie, start with that." You urged him. "Careful, it's hot."
The Wolverine struggled with the cutlery, too small for his large hands, and the brief thought of slashing the pie with his claws crossed his mind, but he decided to be civil. You watched him butcher the food, eager to see his reaction, but he was taking his time.
"I'll let it cool off a bit."
"Ooh, that's probably a good idea." You nodded.
"Aren't you having some?" Logan asked.
"Noo, no. I like to bake for others, not for myself."
"So what do you eat, then?" He sipped on the coffee.
"Instant noodles usually. I'm too tired to cook when I get home. I do occasionally have leftovers, but whatever isn't sold I take it to the local shelter." You explained.
Christ, you couldn't be any kinder. Logan was stunned by your beauty and your soul, which was why he decided that after today, he will stop any interaction with you. He couldn't ruin you, not with his lifestyle, not with the danger that followed him everywhere.
The only problem was that the conversation flowed naturally, and he felt safe with you, just as you did with him. Like you were the missing piece to his puzzle. Logan pushed away those thoughts and decided to try the food. He took a large mouthful of the pie, chewed and swallowed, and you waited expectantly.
"Shit."
"What? Is it bad?" You jumped from your seat.
"Fuck, this is the best pork pie I've ever had." Logan wiped his mouth with a tissue you provided. "I'm serious, kid. Did you put drugs in it?"
You laughed, shaking your head as he finished the rest of the pie. He truly seemed to enjoy it, and you felt so satisfied. But the real test came after.
"Pistachio croissant." You said. "I thought about making almond ones, but I figured pistachio wasn't that sweet."
"Right, let's see." Logan took a healthy bite out of the pastry, and lo and behold, he closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. If heaven had a taste, it would be that damned croissant.
"Is it good?"
"Good? Jesus, this is the best one yet." He finished the rest of it, the pistachio cream tickling his taste buds in all the right ways. "Who taught you to bake like this?"
"My grandma. She was the best cook I knew." You smiled.
Logan noticed your use of past tense, and he didn't want to bring up any bad memories. He wasn't the nosy type, but something possessed him to ask you about your life, your family, your favourite colours. He needed to know more about you, and you answered all his questions, opening up to him like a flower in bloom. But when it came to him talking about himself, Logan was reluctant.
Talking to Wade was easier, because Wade didn't take anything seriously, nor did he ask personal questions. Well, he did, but in his own stupid way that provided Logan some distraction, as well as a reason to punch him. But with you it was different. He felt like he owed you serious answers that he wasn't yet ready to tell a stranger who made a mean pistachio croissant.
"The cake!" You spun on the chair, changing the subject when you saw Logan dodging your questions like bullets.
Although he didn't say it, he was grateful that you didn't put any pressure on him to talk. He wasn't a talker. That was definitely Wade. You came back with the whole cake, and it looked so good that Logan didn't want you to cut it. Perfectly round, a layer of cream in the middle and white frosting on top. You even went so far as to decorate it with all kinds of yellow flower petals and what seemed to be mint leaves.
"Alright, hit me. What's this one called?"
"I call it the Mojito Cake. The sponge cake has lemon zest, the cream is made of lime, mint and rum syrup, and the frosting is buttercream with a dash of actual rum." You explained.
"Shit, I can't tell if that sounds disgusting or incredible."
"Only one way to find out." You cut him a thick slice, and Logan wasted no time trying it.
"I think you found yourself a new customer."
"You're too nice."
"I'm anything but nice, kid." He took three more spoonfuls. "But I ain't a liar. This is delicious." Logan spoke with his mouth full and it made you chuckle.
"Oh, there's a bit of frosting on your face."
"Hm?" He used the tissue to wipe his chin. "Did I get it?"
"No, it's still- here, I'll get it." You leaned forward and delicately ghosted your thumb over the corner of his mouth, eyes locked with his.
Without thinking about it, you dragged your tongue over the frosting, and Logan couldn't look away from you even if he wanted to. A gesture so innocent, but it destroyed any form of restraint. He pressed his lips onto yours, tasting the rum and the cream, but before you could kiss him back, he pulled away.
"Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have-"
You gave him no time to finish his sentence when you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him with fire on your tongue. God, he hated being touched, but when you did it, he melted in your hands. Lust battled reason and prevailed, and you found yourself straddling Logan's lap, arms around his neck and chest pressed against his.
His large hands found their way under your dress, fingers digging in the plush of your thighs until a moan escaped past your lips. Logan could've sworn you were pure in all ways — a virgin — so, naturally, he was surprised to see you eager to jump his adamantium bones.
With the last shred of reason left in you, you glanced at the door and window to make sure they were covered, and pushed Logan's jacket off his shoulders, peppering his neck with soft kisses. He wasn't the gentle type, no matter how hard he tried, and he didn't need to be when he felt your hips grind in his lap. It was more than obvious that you wanted him then and there.
Logan lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and slammed you down the empty table. His roughness sent a chill down your spine, because you really wanted him to manhandle you from the moment he stepped foot in your bakery. He kissed you again, pressing his whole against yours until your back hit the table. You felt like a cornered animal with nowhere to go, and the thrill of it turned you on.
"Are you sure you want this?" Logan asked despite you unbuckling his belt.
"I don't want this, I want you. I need you to fuck me so hard I can't walk." You unzipped his jeans, and although he was taken aback by your sudden use of filthy words, he couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing that side of you.
"Greedy little girl." Logan's hand slithered between your legs, fingers rubbing circles over your clothed clit. "Shit, you're soakin' wet. Can feel it through your fuckin' panties already." He flared his nostrils, taking in the scent of your arousal.
With his jeans loose around his waist, you palmed his cock through his boxers, and it didn't shock you for a second that he was rock hard. What did shock you, however, was the size of it. It was probably the biggest you've ever taken, and you didn't want any other man anymore.
You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, making it clear that you didn't want to waste any more time. Not that you didn't want to suck his dick or explore every inch of his body and worship it the way a man like him deserved it, but you were impatient.
Logan got the hint when you whined and scoffed, and he tore the pink panties off of you, tossing them on the floor. At least he had the decency not to put them on the table, which you were going to disinfect anyway. He pushed his boxers down, and you propped yourself on your elbows to look at him, and it was a sight for sore eyes indeed. He had perfectly sculpted abs, you could see them under the half-lifted t-shirt, but it was his cock that made your mouth water.
"Like what you see?" Logan was smug, confident in his good looks.
"I need to permanently imprint this image on my retina." You told him, and he couldn't help the chuckle.
"Likewise. Now spread 'em."
"Yessir!" You very quickly obeyed, parting your legs for him, and Logan couldn't deny that he enjoyed being in control.
He wasn't one to take orders, nor give them, but watching you comply scratched an itch he couldn't get rid of. Logan pressed the tip of his cock against your slick folds, earning another whine from you. You bucked your hips, craving more, and he scoffed.
"That desperate, hm?"
"You have no idea." You dug your manicured fingernails into his shoulders, bracing for temporary pain, because you knew damn well it would hurt.
"I don't know, I didn't hear you say please." Logan frowned, and you understood what game he was playing. A game you yearned to be part of.
"Oh, please, please, please fuck me, Logan! I'll be so good for you! I'll do anything you want." You clung to his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. "I'll even take it in any hole you want." You whispered, dragging your tongue over his lips.
"Shit." Logan was weak in the knees from your words, and the worst part was that he believed everything you said. But there was a time and place for everything.
You were the perfect mix of sweet and spicy, and you begged so nicely that the Wolverine just couldn't say no. You felt the leaking tip of his cock push past your folds and you audibly gasped at the size of it, drawing blood from his skin with your fingernails.
"It won't fit-" You whined with lust in your voice.
"I'll make it fit." Logan promised, painstakingly slowly thrusting into you.
He gave you time to adjust to his girth, constantly checking if you were alright, if you wanted him to carry on or stop, and while you loved that he was so caring, you needed him hurry up and fuck you.
To assure him that you would survive his monstrous cock, you planted a soft kiss on his nose, and there it was again, the change in your personality, from sultry to innocent. It was as though you embodied everything he ever wanted, and his desire to never contact you again went down the drain. How could Logan ever leave someone like you?
"I'm ready." You nodded, and he pressed his forehead onto yours, slowly rolling his hips.
You weren't ready, because it hurt like a bitch when he stretched out your velvety walls. But the pain was soon replaced by pleasure, and Logan picked up the pace when your whimpers turned to moans, and the slight frown on your face disappeared.
"So tight." He hummed, forehead resting against yours.
Were you tight, or was he just so incredibly big? Either way, you were a panting mess already, clinging to him for dear life, and Logan forgot his worries, even if it was just for that one moment. You were too good to be true, with your parted lips and glossy eyes — a beautiful sight for his sore eyes.
"Fuck, I- fuck!" You wrapped your legs around his waist, the table screeching under you. Not a single coherent sentence could come out of your mouth. "Logan, shit, I-"
"What's the matter? Need something?" He cooed, fingers bruising into your hips. "Use your big girl words."
"Need it ha-harder!" You cried out but he slowed down, confusion written all over your face.
"Where are your manners?"
"Please, daddy, please give it to me harder!"
The term of endearment had Logan quirk a brow at you, but he wasn't surprised in the slightest that you had a daddy kink. And he basked in being called that.
"Are you sure you can take it?"
"Yes!" There was no hesitation in your response. "Fuck, yes!"
Logan growled when he felt your pussy clench around his cock, and he delivered, thrusting deeper, harder and faster into you, until the sound of skin on skin echoed in the bakery, and your breathing became heavier.
"Fuuuuck, I can feel it in my gut!" You threw your head back when the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix.
"Filthy. Little. Slut." Each word came with a thrust and a groan, and he filled you up so good, you became addicted to him.
Your toes curled up, and your legs began to twitch when you felt your orgasm build up. Each push and pull made your vision blurry, and Logan's grip on you tightened as his hips stuttered. He was feral, and he was close, you could feel it in your bones.
"Fuck, Logan, do- oh- don't stop!" Words spilled from your mouth incoherently, and after a few more thrusts, pure bliss rushed through your body.
"That's it, let go." Logan buried his face in the crook of your neck, slamming hard into you until all you could do was chant his name like a prayer.
You felt him fill you up, pussy hot and sticky and sore, and he slowly pulled out, eyes darting at the tissues on the table. He grabbed them, gently cleaning you up, and you couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was just something about a man like him be so gentle. And you were absolutely delighted to have him take care of you.
"You know," Logan said licking his lips, "I'm beginning to think you didn't want me to just taste your pastries."
"True." You told him smugly. "But you liked them."
"I like you more." He blurted out without thinking.
You felt your cheeks burn at his sudden honesty, and after sliding up your underwear and fixing your dress, you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
"I like you too, honey badger."
"Don't ever call me that again." Logan chuckled.
"Not happening. Now, could you pleaaaase help me clean up this place? The last thing I need is a surprise hygiene inspection tomorrow."
He couldn't even imagine what the inspectors would do if they found out you had sex in a bakery, and with a nod, Logan zipped up his jeans and began disinfecting the tables and chairs while you swept the floor.
In less than half an hour you were done, and the shop was squeaky clean. You were satisfied with the end result, and told Logan that you wanted him to have the rest of the cake, pies and croissants. He thought Wade and Al could eat something, and decided to accept your offer.
"Can I come with you? There's quite a few boxes of food." You told him, a sheepish grin on your lips.
"Is that your way of finding out where I live?"
"Maybe. I'll go home if you don't want me with you."
"No, you're good." Logan assured you. "Besides, I'm sure my roommate's gonna devour everything. He'll probably lock you up in our apartment and force you to bake for him."
"I don't know if that's a threat or a promise." You laughed.
"Both. It's both."
You walked with Logan down the street, boxes in your arms, and you were surprised to see him open up to you more. He answered almost every question you had, and you felt him more relaxed. And he was. Logan forgot how much he needed that kind of connection with someone. You were so easy to talk to, you didn't judge him, and most importantly, you listened.
He guided you up the stairs to his apartment and knocked on the door, because he couldn't reach his keys with so many boxes in his arms. You baked for a damn army.
Wade opened the door, and you were taken aback by his appearance, but it didn't scare you. Instead, you introduced yourself as Logan's personal baker, earning a chuckle from him.
"Come on in, Martha Stewart." Wade opened the door enough for you to walk through it with the boxes and not drop them.
"Wade." Logan came back from the kitchen with a croissant. "Eat. Seriously, eat."
You watched Wade wolf down the pastry without hesitation and his eyes lit up. He chewed and swallowed, then moaned, eyes rolling back. The look of disgust on Logan's face was priceless.
"Holy fucking shit, Y/N, what the fuck did you put in this?" Wade grabbed your shoulders, giving them a good shake. "It's so flaky and creamy and buttery, like a bunch of unicorns came in my mouth."
"I'm glad you like it." You giggled. "Try the cake."
"There's cake?!" He ran to the kitchen, leaving you and Logan in the hallway before coming back, a slice of half-eaten cake in his hand. "I am officially impressed. Can you make Rocky Road?"
"Yes."
"Dulce de leche?"
"Yep."
"Baklava?"
"Uh-huh."
"Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte?"
"Yes, Wade!" You rolled your eyes, then turned to Logan. "Sugar rush?"
"Oh, you have no idea. And this is him on a good day."
"Listen, sweet cheeks, if old man fuckface here won’t marry you, I will. Just don’t tell Vanessa." Wade whispered.
"Don’t even think about it, you degenerate limp dick."
"Ugh, fine. And here I was hoping all four of us could be a happy dysfunctional family. Five if you count Al. Six with Colossus. Wait, actually, eight with-"
"Wade, have you tried the pork pies?" You asked, effectively shutting him up.
Yeah, Logan could definitely get used to being around you from now on to sweeten up his life.
3K notes · View notes
luludeluluramblings · 13 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
The Tape
Reader and Conner’s sex tape gets leaked…
Based on this…
Warning: Fem!Reader, NSFW themes, no actual smut, pure crack nonsense, fake Twitter post
A/N: @fanfictionlover277353 Heard you wanted some more! Here’s some of my nonsense!
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
"Come on, Babs. Please. I'm begging. Just for a few hours. Two tops." Dick's whining could be heard through out the entire cave. The vibrato of his voice echoing off the rocky walls and stalagmites as he leaned over Barbara's shoulder and played with her hair.
She was currently sitting at the Bat Computer, looking over anything related to the family or incidents in Gotham with strained eyes and an exasperated look on her face.
"I told you, I'm busy-"
"You need a break." Dick interrupted, playing the hypocrite with a grin. "Come on, two hours. We'll watch a movie, you can even pick. No sappy Rom-coms, anything you want. All your choice." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Admittedly, Barbara was tempted, but she let out an indulgent sigh.
"Fine. I'll set up notifications to alert me if anything that needs to get scrub gets posted." She quickly type out a few things on to the computer, having it connected to her phone before Dick whisked her off with way too much excitement.
It was a simple notification system. One that would alert her if anyone's vigilantes identities were mentioned in the media. Unfortunately, it wasn't set up to alert her if anyone's civilian identities were mentioned. That included the family's only civilian member as well.
And, a lot can happen in two hours with the power of the internet and a very interesting topic.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You were having a good day. A very nice day. You had gone out into the world, enjoying the sights and sounds of a mid-morning Gotham. Ignoring the wailing sirens in the distance, by now you had grown used to it.
Dick, Babs, and Alfred where in the manor doing either Bat stuff or sleeping. Damian was visiting Jon. Duke was on patrol. Cass was at dance practice. Bruce was at the Watchtower. Tim was at the Wayne office. Stephanie was your chaperone (stalker) of the day. And, Jason was fuck who knows where.
A peaceful, calm day.
Until you got a Twitter notification and you realized...
"Oh, that's not good. That is really not good." You mutter, watching as the internet burns while you drink your coffee. Not like you could do much else. You still sent a quick text to Conner, just to prepare him while you mentally packed.
You warned him when he suggested filming the two of you making love in the Wayne manor parlor right in front of the fireplace.
You had suggested you’d both go to the mountains and fuck in the wild, but he just had to be kinky and want to do it in the manor. Better lighting he said.
If it wasn’t for the fact that it had been your anniversary and he had pulled out all the stops, you would’ve said no. (It doesn’t matter that he had you literally crying from the pleasure when the two of you had finally finished filming. Nope. Not at all.)
However, that mountain sex might still be on the table. You didn't want to be around when the rest of the family saw that video, so a remote location in the mountains sounded like a decent idea. You’d been wanting to runaway from the manor for a while anyway.
“Hey, Steph, hand me your phone real quick…” Best to probably by yourself some time.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Conner had a tendency to mute his notification on all his socials. Not that he didn't look at what people tagged him in or mentioned him in. He just find it easier to manage.
So when he got a text from you saying to check Twitter, he was a bit puzzled. But, he figured you had seen him tagged in something funny and wanted him to see it too.
Only for the record in his head to scratch when he realized what he had been tagged in.
"SHIT! Shit, shit, shit, shit." Could he get off planet fast enough? This was bad. Not the video. That was good. He may have thrown extra fuel on the fire by liking it and retweeting it on to his official account, but, damn it, was he proud of that. Probably shouldn’t have hired that rando to edit it for him though.
But, yeah, he was about to possibly be the only man ever murdered in cold blood by Batman. It was one thing to fuck his civilian daughter, but filming it in the man’s own home? Yeah, the kryptonite was definitely coming out and getting stabbed into his skull.
"JON! Distract Damian!" Conner yelled out before taking off, knowing that Jon's super hearing would pick up it up. Best get to Gotham and grab you before Batman came after his ass.
There was a nice planet a few solar systems over that you two could have some fun on. Maybe if he was lucky, you could visit that spot in front of the fireplace on last time. He doubted the two of you would get another chance to do it there again.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Jason had actually been at Roy’s that day, having finished some Outlaw business from the night before. Only to be interrupted when Roy suddenly choked on his drink and sprayed it all over him from across the table. Soaking Jason and the papers on said table.
“What the fuck?” He muttered in disgust whipping the dripping liquid off him.
Roy, however, was still choking. Wheezing as he clutched his phone like it was the most precious thing in existence.
“Nothing! Nothing!” Instantly, Roy was trying to back the video up the Cloud and his back up phone. He’s paid for porn with less quality than this and he was not wasting this opportunity before it was scrubbed from the internet.
“Let me see that.” Jason pushed the table and slammed it into Roy’s gut, causing the phone to clatter on to it. A video silently playing on the screen.
A video of two people in a fancy parlor. Doing very intimate things.
Two people Jason knew. In a fancy parlor that Jason knew.
A parlor that Jason had literally sat in three days ago watching the fire in the exact same fireplace.
“Did you fucking save this, asshole?”
“Dude, that is ART!”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Back in the BatCave Alfred had come down to tidy up after resting a bit only to look at the screen in horror. Despite his many skills, socially media escaped him at times.
However he did manage to learn one thing…
“That was what was on my bloody carpet?!”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Tim had been in his office, going over a couple charts when his secretary burst into the room. Stumbling and falling on the floor panting. One of her heels broken.
Normally she was a serious and composed woman, not tolerating any nonsense from him. So this behavior was unexpected and worrisome.
Tim rushed to stand up at help her when she suddenly blurted out, “Leaked sex tape!”
That made him panic. Before confusion hit him.
“Wait, did I film on of those? I don’t remember filming one of those-“
“Your sister! Superboy! PR is going fucking nuts and getting calls. Share prices are fucking increasing because of this!”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
The Justice League Watchtower was in a meeting. Quite a long one judging by the way most of it’s members sitting around the table seemed to be drifting off or subtly scrolling their phones.
Oliver Queen, Green Arrow was one of those people scrolling. Checking over twitter, catching up on the latest gossip. Only to nearly fucking scream in the middle of the meeting when he realized what Superboy had shared on his official account.
Forget man of steel, the kid has damn balls of steel.
Worst yet, the video had been posted for over an hour. A full hour. Almost two. There was no way that was going to be getting scrubbed and forgotten. He’d bet it was in a military archive already with a team of scientist documenting the half-Kryptonian’s dick size right now.
It was an impressively long video. One that Oliver was sorely tempted to watch. But, he didn’t because he knew Batman would actually rearrange his face if he did. Like fist and plastic surgery rearrange it.
So, when he heard Batman’s voice ring out in the meeting, he broke his phone in half to hide the evidence of his discovery.
Only, Batman hadn’t been calling for his attention. He was calling for Booster Gold’s.
“Booster, focus on the meeting. Put that away—“
It was amusing to see Booster get caught with his phone out watching him scramble to shut it off in a panic. Only for it to fall to the ground.
And, the sound to turn on at full volume.
Moans to fill the silent void of the room.
Oliver could only look on in horror when he realized just what Booster had been watching, during a Justice League meeting, and across the table from Batman himself.
“Conner, please, p-please, stop teasing.”
“No, I don’t think I will. You look so pretty like this. All nice and—“
No one moved. Not as they watched Batman literally work through every emotion under that cowl of his and Superman’s face went as white as it possibly could, anguish washing over both their faces when they realized who was in the video booster was watching.
Diana was the only one that stood up and moved to pick up the phone. Everyone held their breaths when she slowly looked down at the screen.
“Quite impressive. You both must be proud.” She said with a slight hum.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I apologize so much for this, but I just was cackling the entire time I came up with this and wrote it. Forgive me y’all! 🙏🏻
A/N: All the Twitter stuff was randomly generated and picked! I’m not good with it, but I added it for giggles!
1K notes · View notes
xetlynn · 1 month ago
Text
Arcane Imagines- Vander
It’s Quiet
Tumblr media
⚠️WARNING🔞: SMUTTTT IF THERE WAS EVER SMUT
[arcane] [main page]
Prompt: it’s grown so quiet since the kids have grown… (not requested, did this at my own free will. Also happy universe WITH VI because I can do that.)
Containing: thigh riding, multiple orgasms, fem!receiving oral, male!receiving oral, hike position, voyeurism, exhibitionism, praise, slight degradation.
“And that’s the last drunk of the evening.” You wipe your hands together after slamming down your rag on one of the tables you had just finished cleaning, going over to the door to turn the open sign to closed. Vander chuckles, cheering as he washes the last few glasses. You go behind the counter to join him in wiping everything down since it gets pretty sticky especially behind the bar. 
“Gosh it’s been so busy these last few days.” You huff, putting your body into the scrubbing. Feeling all the sweat that drenched your back, neck and face. You felt disgusting to say the least. “Mm yeah but think about that early retirement.” He jokes causing you to laugh in response. “So true!” You perk up, glancing behind you, his eyes already locking with yours. 
He places his glass down and scrummages over to you. His hands snaked around your waist. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses the back of your head. You would normally lean into his touch but the sweat that enveloped all over you. You swiftly move away from him by turning around and taking his arms off of you. “I feel gross, babe.” You shake your head at his intentions.
“How come? You look ravishing.” His eyes darken along with his voice that laced with lust. “I’m so sweaty.” You whine, walking out from the bar to sit on one of the stools. “I feel like I just got dragged through mud.” You muster out, finally getting to sit down for the first time in 12 hours that day. 
“You’d still be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on covered in dirt head to toe.” He leans over the bar as you scoff, rolling your eyes at his cheesy choice of words. “It’s the truth.” He puts his hands up in defense. You sigh. “I would like a shower first.” You mumble. 
He observes you as your eyes wander around the building seeing if there was anything else for you to do before the both of you chose to go home. “It’s so quiet in here.” You suddenly mention the lack of noise. “Well it’s just the two of us in here.” He shrugs his shoulders. You give him a dirty look. “I mean the fact that there’s no little Powder running around here with Ekko. No Mylo antagonizing his siblings. Claggor just being along for the ride. Violet attempting to show Mylo how to flirt.” You explain with sadness traced in your tone of voice. 
“Hmph,” He snorted out a laugh remembering the children as young teenagers. “They were something.” He shakes his head. “I miss them living with us.” You pout, he groans at your words knowing what is going to be next. The both of you took the children in young. Felicia has Vi and Powder quite young. Being only 18 with little Violet and 23 with Powder. 
Vander’s the same age as Felicia as you were two years younger than the both of them. You didn’t meet them until after Violet was two years old. Now Vi is 23 and Powder is 18. You are now 39 and Vander is 41. 
“I’m just saying! I don’t have much time!” You exclaim, grasping at his hand, practically begging for a child. “Zaun is good, better than it ever has been. Let’s dooo ittttt.” You bounce your legs for extra effect in pleads. “Love, you’ve never wanted children of your own. Why now?” He raises his brows, now fully enclasping your hand with both of his. 
Your stomach flutters at the size difference between the both of you. You could never get over it, not even with the nearly 20 years of being with one another. “I just,” you frown before continuing. “With the children being older and like I mentioned it being quiet… I want someone to depend on me again. Those sweet little eyes as they ask me to help them.” Your face grows sour, tears stinging at the brim of your eyes. “This could be my last chance to have that. And you’ve never wondered what our baby would look like?” You ask him with puppy-dog eyes. “I miss the old times. Not just with the kids.” You mutter. 
“Of course I have, but if that’s how you feel, love… I’m sorry to tell you but I just can’t give you that. A baby with the way we work. And if you need someone to depend on you, I’ll be that for you. I’ll ask for more help, meaning like little things at home that I know you miss doing.” He massages your hand, kissing at it a few times. You purse out your lips, knowing he was right. 
“Are you okay?” He tilts his head, a few strands of hair falling in his face. You nod your head, not verbally responding though. He lets go of your hand and joins you on the stools. “I’m sorry you’re upset, my love. I never want to see your lips fall downwards.” He pulls you onto his lap and you look into his eyes. 
“I’ll be okay, I guess I’ll just have to be patient until we are blessed with grandchildren.” Your head falls against his chest, wrapping your arms around his large torso. “Hopefully that’s not anytime soon.” Vander smacks your thigh and you snicker. 
“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, you always loved how protective he was over your guys’ family. You feel your arousal thicken in your gut. Feeling needier. 
You have to remind yourself that you need to take a shower first. That’s what you told yourself. Even though your husband definitely does not care about you being sweaty. You care. 
“We could always… pretend like I’m going to give you children.” He whispers in your ear, your body tensing up. It’s like he felt your pussy flutter for him even though you both wore thick clothing and it wasn’t possible. “Mmm, that’s an idea.” You watch his thick, large hand sliding up and down the outside of your thigh. “Gonna let me do it right here, right now? Just like the old days?” He questions, he was breathing heavily down your neck causing the hairs there to stand up at the feeling. 
“Remember how we’d pretend there were people still. Go behind that counter and I’d fuck you from behind as you ‘took someone’s order.’ huh?” He knows all the right buttons to push when it comes to you. He knew what you couldn’t resist. He knew how to get you riled up like no one else. 
Your face was flushed as he reminded you of those moments you had before you even took the children in. That was such a long time ago you were surprised he remembered. “How ‘bout we try that out again?” He nibbles at the tip of your ear causing you to whine. 
“Van- shower first. I told you.” You rub yourself against him, spite of what you were saying. “You were just saying how you miss old times… Let me help you relive a few things.” His fingers now dipping in between your legs. The seam of the jeans you wore were sitting in the right place too. It was too much. 
“Please~” You moan, gripping onto his forearm that held your form. “Please what?” He asks.
“I-I need you.” You moved yourself so you were now sitting on one of his thighs. Looking right into his grey orbs. “What about that shower though?” He teases you, watching you ride against him. Only to pleasure yourself. How selfish. “Fuck the shower.” You grab him by the back of his neck, forcing him into a deep kiss. 
He laughs into the kiss, amused by how turned on you got just by his words. He knew you too well. 
You go to stop your hips so you could get up but he stops you. “Uh-uh, ride my leg until you cum, love.” He holds your hips down. You give him a pout. “Do it or I'll have the night end right here and we can just go to that shower and right to bed.” It was an empty threat. You knew that but listened to him nonetheless. Your pelvis planting down on him. You roll back and forth on him. 
“Fuck, love. You’re so gorgeous.” He coos, getting your hair out of your face. You pant as you focus on reaching your high, hearing his words only drenching your already soaked cunt. Going right through those jeans of yours and onto his black slacks. 
Your hands were grabbing onto the top of his thigh, close to his cock that twitched as it was trapped underneath his now tight pants. Just begging to be free. “I- hah!” You grunted, squeezing your thighs against his. “What is it? What do you have to say?” He inquires with a hint of mocking you. 
“Mmngg, I want to kiss you!” You breathe out, eyes squeezed shut due to how determined you were to release on your husband's enormous muscled thigh. 
“What’s the magic word?” His hand goes to your neck, pressing lightly. “Mean, ‘s mean,” you whimper. “Not the answer.” He tsks, bouncing his knee a little bit to throw you off. You cry out, hands flailing to his shirt. Clutching it tightly in between your fingers. 
“Please let me kiss you, please! I just want to kiss my husband.” You sob, opening your eyes for him to see how much you needed it. He thinks for a moment but decides to give you what you want. 
The hold on your neck only gets tighter as his lips embrace yours. He bites at your lip producing a gasp out of you so he can roughly stick his tongue in your mouth. His tongue battling against yours. You didn’t even try as he had already invaded your muzzle, exploring it like it was his home. 
As you feel yourself get closer you weigh down further onto him, your hips at a lively, unyielding pace. You pull away as your attention needs to go back to your own core. His hand on your throat now gripping, helping you even more. The tension in your chest and head growing. “Fuck.” It was almost inaudible exiting past your lips. 
“Mhm, you can do it. My wife is so persistent. Such a hell-bent little thing.” He purrs in your ear. “Hah! Mmm.” You groan out, holding his wrist that clutched at your pretty open neck. 
And then that explosion of fireworks in your tummy at last comes. Your hole creaming, joining your arousal juices. Only wetting yours and your husbands pants 
His hand breaks free from your airway, allowing you to breathe once more. You pant heavily against him. “Shit.” Your legs shake underneath you. “You have fun there?” He pokes at you, you glare up at him. “Shut up.” You spit, weakly standing up. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Vander raises a brow, grabbing your waist, stopping you from crouching down. “I-I’m going to give you a blow job?” You said in more of a inquisitive tone, confused on how it’s not obvious. “I never said I was done with you.” He stands up from the stool, lifting you up with ease. You yelp from the sudden move. 
He places you on the counter. “I’d like dinner first.” Even being on a tall bar counter he was still wavering over you. “Where people drink?!” You utter out, reminding him what people do on this very countertop. “I’ll clean it up. No one will ever know.” He rolls his eyes. 
Before you could even argue with him his hands are back on you. You subconsciously lift your hips up helping him undress you. “Never get over the sight of this cute girl.” He compliments your pussy. Your thighs squish together, hiding yourself only to be pried back open. 
Your hands were behind you to keep yourself fully propped up. “This position isn’t really comfortable, Vannie.” You mewl, the top of your tailbone was slightly hurting. “I’ll have to make this fast then won’t I?” He asks, not even looking up at your face as he sits back down. Sliding your butt as close to the edge of the counter as possible. 
He adjusted the chair so he was at face level with that pretty little pussy. 
His face diving in but not doing anything so he can take in your scent. Feeling like a feral animal. You would’ve been embarrassed by this if he hadn’t done it almost every day for the past 20 years. You rest your legs over his shoulders, ankles crossed over one another, trapping his head at your core. 
“Stop teasing, Vander.” You sternly tell him, glaring down at him since he decided he was going to take his time. His dilated pupils lift upwards, mouth hovering over your clit. “Is that any way to talk to your dear partner who only wants to take care of you?” He asks, his facial hair tickling you down there. 
You lay your back down on the cold wood. Ignoring him. 
He snickers, now kitten licking at your clit. Toying with it until he hears the squelch after a few more. His tongue swirls around the nub, kissing it every now and then. His strategy was purely for his own enjoyment. Your moans filled the building, echoing and bouncing off the walls. 
“Imagine we didn’t lock the door.” He comments. “Imagine someone walks in thinking we’re open. And you’re getting eaten out right in front of them.” His mouth reattaching to your cunny. 
Ambushing every nerve with pleasure. 
“Fuck! I ho-pe someone doesss!” Your hands go down to his hair, pulling out the bun. “Yeah, you’d like the attention.” He mumbles into you, the vibration shooting through you. 
“Mhm… mhm!” Your chest jolts upwards as his tongue swipes over your sensitive spot. “I n-need your fiiingers!” You wail, playing with his hair so you have something to pull on. Not having anything else around you. 
Your head was upside down off the other side of the counter. “Need ‘em where, love?” He irritatingly asks you. “I-inside! Inside!’ You squeal out, toes scrunching and your calves stretching out at the same time.
His right hand joins his mouth, entering a single digit into that drenching, achy hole. 
His cock screaming to be let free now. His pre-cum drooling onto his boxers. 
You clench around the single but large finger. He enters another before pumping them in and out. Curling every so often to hit that perfect spot inside. Your moans and whines keeping him going. His jaw was certainly going to be locked after this. 
He says random compliments you can’t even understand against your pussy. You didn’t even care enough to hear anyways. Feeling his mouth along with his fingers abusing you. 
“I- how? Fuck!” You scratch as his scalp, bringing one of your hands to your shirt, ripping the buttons off to open it.  You had a few others. 
You own hand kneads at your breasts. “C’mon, make me cum, make me cum!” You pant, chest heaving rapidly. “Almost there?” He watches you grope yourself. He leers gleefully. “Fuck yes!” You nod your head only to let it fall back down off the counter. 
His fingers fucking your skillfully, your cunt splashing liquid on him along with the floor. 
“Close ‘s close!” You grit through your teeth, rolling your hips on his face, bringing him closer to you with the back of your calf. Shoving his head onto you. 
“O-ooohh… mmmm….” It hits you softer than the first time surprisingly, but your cunny still spurts into Vander’s mouth. Your thighs shake against his head, your feet dropping tiredly. “That was so good, love. So proud of you.” He kisses your soft skin, lifting your thighs off of him letting your legs fall on either side of him. 
You breathe heavily, now feeling all the blood that rushed to your head from it being upside down. You sit yourself up, using your husband's shoulders to keep you from slipping forward. He undoes his belt, unbuttoning his pants to take his cock out. Still keeping his clothes up though. 
“C’mere.” He huffs out a laugh, standing up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His hands are squeezing at the plush skin of your ass. 
He takes you to the inside of the bar, his cockhead poked at your entrance with each step. “Tired girl?” He hums out a question. You shake your head, disagreeing. “No, want more.” You rasp out. Humping your hips downwards against his dick. 
“Need you to help me first, prove how much you want me to fuck you.” He ambushes your neck with his licked lips. “I’ll do anything.” You whisper. 
“Good, here comes the guy who brings our stock.” Vander smirks, your eyes widen and you drop to the ground, hiding under the counter even though he already couldn’t see you by being down there. Vander steps as close as possible to you, his chest against the wood. 
His cock was free game to you. “Heyy Mick!” Vander cheerfully grins, not feeling you touch him just yet. He also knew that your pants and little panties were laid out on the ground, available for Mick to see. 
“Hey, hey, hey!” Mick comes into the bar with a dollie of alcohol boxes. “Where’s the wife?” He asks, coming over to the counter. “Oh, she’s a little bit under… the weather tonight.” Vander lies. 
Your heart was raising at the fact that there was now another person in the bar after you had just came twice. Your view trapped in darkness besides the little bit of light that snuck past your husband's legs. His dick still sprung out for you to play with. 
Your pussy clenches around nothing, another realization that your pants were where you two once were moments ago. You silently prayed that Mick didn’t notice it. Your husband’s and your guys’ stocker’s conversation was tuned out. You couldn't focus on anything that was happening. 
Besides the fact that you were going to now get revenge on the person in front of you. Your hands go around his thick member. Dry rubbing him at first. You hear his hiss and you smile mischievously. Your thumb swiping across the slit covered in Vander’s own goo. 
Your hands let him go, as Vander talks his shoulders dropped disappointed only momentarily before your mouth replaces where your hands once were. He bites his lip trying not to show his expressions. 
Your muzzle takes him in all the way, nose almost touching his pelvic zone. You let him go before you gag, sucking on his tip. Your hand massages the base of his cock. 
You hear his voice falter just a tiny bit. “Where do you want them tonight, boss?” Mick asks, talking about the boxes of glass bottles filled with booze. “Just on the counter, Claggor and Mylo are opening in the morning. Gonna have them stock up.” Vander chuckles. Doing his best not to let his voice waver in the slightest. You tried your damnedest too. 
“Arighty.” Mick lifts the boxes up, continuing to talk to the owner of the bar, not knowing he was getting his dick sucked so good his knees were about to give out. 
Your other hand began to fondle his balls, now all three stimulates attacking him at once. Vander lets out a low grunt that luckily wasn’t heard from either of the people in the building. 
“I gotta get going, now. Good seeing ya! Hope to see [Name] next week!” Mick kicks out his dollie, rolling it out as Vander waves him goodbye. 
And as that door shuts, his mouth opens, letting out all the noises he couldn’t before. “Fuck, I almost had to shout at him to leave.” Vander groans, taking a fist full of your hair to fuck himself into your mouth. You moved your hand out of the way, grabbing onto his thigh for support. 
“Shit, such a doll for me.” He drags your mouth down his member before pulling you away by your hair. He steps back. “Stand up.” He motions. You crawl out from your spot, standing up before him. 
“Turn around.” He spins his pointer finger. 
He watches your ass jiggle with each step, his hands roughly bend you over. Your hands hitting the floor. “Need this.” He puffs out, shoving his dick inside your hole without warning. 
“So perfect for me, after all these years. It’s like the first time all over again.” He ruts into you forcefully. Your fingernails claw at the ground as he fucks into you at an unfathomable pace. 
“Take it like the fucking champ you are.” He smacks your ass causing you to scream out a moan. “Fucking you stupid, ain’t I?” He laughs, holding your hips. Each time you try to lift your torso up he rams into you, watching you fall back down each time. It was amusing. He enjoyed it every single time. 
“I asked you a question.” He slaps your ass again. 
“Y-yes! ‘Stupid, ‘s ‘stupid!” You cry out, your head shaking side to side as tears brim your eyelids. “Gonna cum again!” You shrill. 
“Yeah you are.” He pants, finally helping you up by bending down to grab you by your neck. Your back up against his stomach. “Who’s making you cum for the third time?” He asks, your ass bouncing back on his black slacks. There were white splatters all over his pants from tonight. “Y-you a-re!” You seeth, sucking in your own drool. 
“What’s my name?” He tightens his grip on your throat, you gasp out for air. Not able to answer as fast as he wants you to. His cock pistoning in and out of you. 
“What’d I ask?” His other hand holds your lower stomach, the pressure now pressing on his cock through your tummy. “I- u-um! V-vander!” You choke out. “That’s right, doll.” He lets go of your neck but still keeping you close as he continues to fuck you. 
“Gonna fuck my seed into you, maybe there’s a chance you’ll get that baby.” He snorts out a laugh, thrusting into you. Your eyes roll back into your head. “Cummingggnghah!!” You shriek, your hands behind you, gripping onto his shirt. 
“H-huh- same.” He breathes heavily, getting a little slower and sloppier. His tip oozing out inside of you. Your walls spasm around him leading a domino effect, Vander fully plunged inside of you as he lets his semen shoot inside you. Your jaw slacks open at the feeling.
You wiggle yourself against him, trying to get as much of him as possible. He pushes the both of you forward, you lean over the wooden counter. A box hiding your face from the door. 
“Holy shit…” You quietly whined, your legs were shaking and very weak. Barely keeping yourself standing. His slips out of you, letting the mixture of yours and his cum drop to the ground from your cunny. 
“You took me so well. So good every time.” He praises you, rubbing your back. 
Afterwards he takes you to your shower, water already running. You sat on the floor waiting for him in the hot water as he cleaned up your guys’ mess the two of you made.
1K notes · View notes
i90o3 · 2 months ago
Note
hi!! i was wondering if i could request a little scenario/fic with mr crawling and just… pampering him? cuddles? maybe set after the ending where you take him home :3 i can’t explain how but he gives me major cuteness aggression…
Pampering.
context: post blissful love ending. You take care of him <3
Homicipher. mr crawling x reader. | Anypov. Fluff.
He also gives me cuteness aggression, like sometimes I just wanna squeeze him until he pops. HES SO CUTE!!!!!!! even if I kind of slandered him in this post..
requests r open !! (read rules)
Tumblr media
Few things you noticed about Mr. Crawling..he’s all bloody, dirty, and he SMELLS.
You couldn’t have him stinking up your house with his nasty odor, and you honestly smelt bad too since you haven’t showered..so, what’s better than a self care day? Take care and pamper your ..boyfriend? (I don’t think he understands labels..)
It was a little..complicated? first getting him out of his clothes. He was confused as to why you were taking off his clothes.. but I think after you running the bath and getting out of your own clothes he joins you.
He looovveesss the feeling of you washing his hair and massaging his scalp, literally in bliss. Your hands just feel so good! (pause-) Honestly even your hands scrubbing his body feels good—lathering him up with soap and giving him all the attention! Along with some head pats and kisses, of course. You even guide your hands and let him wash your hair and body, even if he’s a little clumsy.
After getting out of the bath and drying yourselves off, (he has to stay in his towel because you gotta wash his NASTY ASS clothes), you sit him in front of your vanity and start applying all sorts of face masks and stuff to his face, letting it sit while you brush (detangle..) his hair. Both him and his clothes are all clean! and he just smells and looks so much better. Although you really weren’t sure what to do about his eyes (or lack of therefore..), but he didn’t seem to want to wear a blind fold like Mr. Silvair..so you just let his hair cover it.
(now he’s allowed in your bed because he’s not STANK)
And for the best part of self care day, is spending the rest of the night cuddling in bed, your arms wrapped around him as he lays on your chest, your hands patting his head and kissing his face until you fall asleep, watching over you and admiring your sleeping features. His fingers will occasionally brush against your cheek or your collarbone, featherlight, not enough to wake you up. And he’ll even take your wrist and make your hand pat him on the head while you’re busy sleeping. He’s a little lonely while you sleep, but give him plenty of cuddles in the morning and he’ll be okay!!
Tumblr media
9:23 pm. 11/03/2024. @i90o3
1K notes · View notes
cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
shouto cannot, for the life of him, stop thinking about you washing his hair.
it’s been almost an hour, 45 minutes have passed since you’d helped him wash his hair in the shower, you’d already showered before he got home, but you still wanted to help him, you’d insisted. he found it a bit strange, but he’ll never say no to spending extra time with you.
except now he can’t stop thinking about it—them. your hands all up in his hair that’s been getting longer, scrubbing and scratching at his soapy scalp. globs of soap falling against his shoulders and your pants getting wet as you sat on the corner of the bathtub. he wished you’d just get in with him, but he worried you’d feel uncomfortable if he asked, so he’ll leave it for another time.
and besides, he doubted he could get any words out with how good it all felt. he’s never had anybody wash his hair like this, taking their time and softly humming a song stuck in your head, so gentle and with such gentle smelling soap. soft and melty and malleable just like his brain felt with your hands in his hair.
46 minutes have passed now, but he wants to take a shower again.
his hands are warm, a nice aftermath of the bath he’d just taken, his cheeks are too as they squeeze into your neck. when he’s relaxed like this, shouto forgets how heavy he is, like when big dogs forget they don’t fit into people’s laps anymore. his pro hero mass presses against you and you have to hold yourself up against the counter. a fond smile makes its way onto your face as your arm makes a way into his now fluffy hair, also a nice aftermath of his bath.
“hello,” you giggle. shouto huffs against your skin, nuzzling into it like a cat. he offers you a hum and you both stay there quietly for a few more minutes.
“i want to do it again.” he mumbles against you. you raise a brow.
“do what again ?”
his hair tickles your nape, it’s been getting longer again. he presses a kiss to your skin, then another one “ i want you to wash my hair again,” another kiss on your shoulder and his arms tighten around you as you stop scratching at his hair. “please ?”
“sho, it’s been less than an hour,” you snort, checking the kitchen clock to make sure, shouto lets out a noise similar to a little whine into the crook of your neck.
“..please ?” he tries again, you laugh. shaking your head at how endearingly spoiled your boyfriend was.
“how ‘bout this..” you start, “i help you wash your hair tomorrow, how’s that sound ?”
shouto sits unmoving for a few seconds, then he nods. his nose runs against your neck as he lifts his head up to look at you. “will you come in with me ?”
you splutter. head whizzing to look at him slowly blinking at you. his hair hangs and falls in front of his eyes as he stares expectantly. you clear your throat before responding with a somewhat stable sounding "sure, okay." stable sounding enough despite the slight tremble in your throat and fingertips. shouto smiles up at you softly nuzzling into you again.
"i'm looking forward to it." he sighs.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
starkeyisthelastname · 7 months ago
Note
dealer!rafe x reader when he gets out of jail😵‍💫
get ready to get pounded 😜
Rafe had been in an out of jail many times, it wasn’t anything new to him. Drug trafficking, burglary charges, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder. Yet somehow him being Rafe Cameron, he got away with everything. His daddy was rich and powerful and so was he. He had the best lawyers and Ward may or may not have done some shady arrangements to always get Rafe’s charges cleared.
It was new for you though, and the last three weeks without him was starting to make you wonder if he was going to get out. You had only gotten to visit him once, wanting to cry at having to see your boyfriend wearing orange. He did make it look good though, white wife beater hung tightly against his broad chest and orange scrub pants that read Kildare County Jail in faded black letters, hugged his toned hips. He reassured you that he was fine and people knew better than to fuck with him in there.
After working some kind deal out with the DA, Rafe was a freeman again, and oh was he showing you just how much he missed you. Laid back against the king size bed, you were getting the best dick down a girl could ask for. He had had your legs bent back, knees nearly touching your chest as he pounded into you. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure was almost too much to handle. Almost 4 weeks without sex for the both of you, and the two you had a lot of making up to do.
“Daddy…” You mewled, a kitten like whine leaving your sparkly lips as your baby pink nails dug into the expensive sheets. He felt so fucking good, quite literally fucking you numb as he fucked the built up tension after being locked in a cell surrounded by men for the last few weeks.
You felt his hand grab your chin, forcing you to bring your eyes back to him all while his thrusts continued to abuse your wanting hole. “Keep those eyes on me ma, daddy wants to see your pretty face while he fucks you.” He breathed out.
Your long lashes fluttered back open, focusing on your man. He looked too good with the pricy chain back around his neck, toned abs flexing with each thrust, his cheeks pink from the building heat he was feeling in his gut. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch him, your acrylic nails running over his muscular arms as he held your curvy hips firmly. “Missed you… missed daddy’s dick.” You mumbled, earning a small laugh above you.
Rafe looked down, watching your pretty soaked hole creaming on his dick as he slid in and out. He had never had a girl to come home to after jail, always settling for some random hook up to get his nut in. But you were his princess, the same one that had the house cleaned, fresh clothes picked out for him, a meal cooked knowing he had only been eating shitty jail food for almost a month. Here you were making love to a thug, taking his pipe like a good girl not asking him shit about what he did or the kind of person he really was. He planned on making you his wife, you just didn’t know it yet.
“What the fuck have you done to me, baby girl.” He whispered, a low groan coming from his throat as he felt you clench down onto him.
2K notes · View notes
pirateprincessblog · 8 months ago
Text
outlaw
Tumblr media
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
Tumblr media
"another one, sweetheart."
i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.
"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.
your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.
if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.
"you're quitting school."
just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.
"hey, bitch, over here!"
monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.
reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.
the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.
sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.
you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.
a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.
the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.
"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"
you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.
"hungry?"
this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.
"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."
he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.
"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."
charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.
"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."
but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.
"clumsy girl," he teases.
you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.
"wyatt," he calls.
the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.
"you go on. i'll catch up with you."
without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.
you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.
the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.
"if you're done staring, you can join me."
caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.
"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."
and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?
you should really get home.
thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.
"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.
it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.
"i'll take you home."
"no!"
the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.
you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."
"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"because."
"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."
if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.
fuck.
"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.
"lies."
"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"
"does he beat you every day?"
he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.
"or only when you do something wrong?"
"i don't see how that's any of your business."
"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."
you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?
"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."
you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.
when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.
he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.
"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.
"i'll be fine." you lie.
you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."
he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.
"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."
he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.
Tumblr media
weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.
you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.
the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.
"what's wrong, boy?"
denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."
"who is?"
"the stallion."
you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.
your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.
"good day, darling."
your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."
"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.
"uh, yes-"
"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.
the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"
"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."
the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."
you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-
"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.
"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"
defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."
alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.
"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"
you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.
his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"
you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.
"that's okay."
his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.
he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.
realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes. 
as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."
hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.
you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.
and you don't even know his name.
"did he touch you?"
"what?!"
"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"
"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"
he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"
"like?"
"anything."
"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."
smack.
nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot  cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.
"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."
"but it's dinner time-"
"judith will help me. go. now."
not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?
you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.
"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.
"oh." is all you manage to say.
"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."
"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.
"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"
no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?
"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"
you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.
"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."
other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.
"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."
you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.
"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."
his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?
"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."
"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"
"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."
"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"
"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."
"i didn't want to-"
"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."
"no."
the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.
your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.
"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."
tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.
"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"
his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.
"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."
you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?
"let's get you washed."
after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.
you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.
if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.
the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?
for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.
saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.
"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."
"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"
"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.
they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.
but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.
slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.
"gin."
"right away."
the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.
"say, when are we going to have fun again?"
"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"
yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.
"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.
he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.
"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.
"what?"
"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."
"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."
"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."
great.
you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.
he is so manly, so handsome, and so...
"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"
he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."
you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?
"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."
"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.
you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-
"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"
"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.
"give yourself some time to think."
the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.
"uh... can you sit up straight?"
yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.
"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"
"right away, darling."
he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.
"you missed a spot."
"huh?"
"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.
"oh, sorry."
he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.
"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.
"but-"
"i'll finish up. go."
Tumblr media
coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.
yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.
you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.
"i can't do it." 
"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."
"i need time."
jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?
"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."
"what, he spoke to you about me?"
wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.
"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.
you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"
the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."
"what do you mean? yes or no?"
"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.
"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."
you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."
"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"
"jongho. shut the fuck up."
"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."
the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.
the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.
how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.
it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.
the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.
"aren't you cute?"
your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.
"moonshine."
click. click. click.
"come on, girl."
the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.
"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"
your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.
"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."
his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.
"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"
the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.
"heavens." he exhales.
you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.
"darling?"
his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?
you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.
"had a good nap?"
"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.
"that's no place to sleep, dove."
"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."
he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.
"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."
"i'm not sure-"
"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.
the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.
"go on, climb her."
"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."
"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."
with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.
"is she fast?"
"she can be. want to see?"
"i don't know. i might scream."
he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?
"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.
you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.
you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.
his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.
"you alright?"
"yes!"
"how do you feel? scared?"
"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"
his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.
"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.
"a bit."
this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.
you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?
"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."
and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.
"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."
"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."
"take it."
"no."
"take it."
"i don't want to."
yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-
"why would you do that?!"
you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.
"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."
"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."
his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.
"you know my name."
"yeah."
"how?"
and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.
"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."
you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"
"a psycho."
"oh."
"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."
he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."
"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."
"then... why did you keep it?"
"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."
"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."
he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."
so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?
"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"
"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.
"he stole your first kiss."
"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.
"what- what are you doing?"
"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."
you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.
you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.
he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.
"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.
"like what?"
"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."
"maybe i do."
"you're saying risky things, sugar."
seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.
"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.
he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.
"what is it?"
"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."
the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."
"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.
"like a feast."
with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"
"sit."
"what?!"
"sit."
you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.
"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."
you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"
the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.
"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.
deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"
"yes, please."
"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."
he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.
"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."
you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.
"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."
he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?
"this good, darling?"
"yes."
"yes, what?"
"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.
he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.
"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"
"what?"
"do you wish to be mine?"
do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:
"yes, sir."
"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.
"yunho."
he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."
"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.
"again."
"yunho-"
"more."
"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"
he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.
"does it hurt?"
"no," you reply.
"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."
that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.
"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."
"me too," you moan.
his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.
"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."
"so sweet"
"even your moans are so beautiful"
"use me for your pleasure, darling"
you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.
"yunho..."
"yes, my love?"
"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."
"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."
you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.
"let's try this."
he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.
"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.
"wait, what about you?"
"i'll just- i don't know."
his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?
"are you sure?"
"positive."
"absolutely sure?"
"yunho?"
"yes?"
"please cum in my mouth."
and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.
"you are just perfect, aren't you?"
Tumblr media
in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.
upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?
he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.
"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.
"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.
you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.
"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."
"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."
blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."
"he shot her."
"you shot my father!"
"he deserved it!"
"no, the fuck he didn't!"
you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?
"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.
"don't touch me."
"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."
he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.
"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.
"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."
he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?
"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."
"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."
yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?
"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."
and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.
why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?
"you're all mine now, sunshine."
Tumblr media
feedback greatly appreciated! <3
2K notes · View notes
trivia-yandere · 11 months ago
Text
dilemma
Tumblr media
being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected - especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63
word count: 4.063
warning: drug dealer yoongi, oral (m receiving), kissing, smut, praising, weed smoking, unprotected sex, dirty talking, cumshot,
valentine's day masterlist | part 2 (coming oct 14)
“Suga…” you murmur to the phone pressed to your ear. The sound of the shower is loud in the background as you wait for the water to turn hot. 
“Y/N.” the voice on the other side murmurs, voice deep and a little raspy. “You know you don’t have to call me that. I’ve known you for years now.”
You touch the water and hum. “I know. I like saying it, though.” you respond to the man on the other side. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you from anything. It is Valentine’s Day afterall.”
You hear a chuckle on the other side. “Nothing at all. I was just dozing off when you called.”
You lick your lips. You texted first, asking if he had your usual - nothing but an eighth of weed to hold you off. When he didn’t respond, you called.
You knew Yoongi way back from your High School years that then rolled into college and even now, as you worked at your big girl job. His product was good, affordable and he always threw deals for clientele such as yourself - loyal, as he calls them. There’s been times in which Yoongi would add extra to the bag he sold you just because.
“That’s sad. Figured a guy like you had someone to spend the day with him." The shower water is now hot. “I guess we’re both lonely on this holiday.”
You hear a grunt come from Yoongi. “I guess we are.” There’s silence for a moment from the both of you. “What do you suggest we do about that then?”
You lick your lips, your heart pumping at his sudden choice of words.
Another reason why you liked Yoongi - he always flirted back, no matter how subtle. You ponder if he was like this with all his clientele - but you understood that with you, he was. It never went past light flirting and lingering eyes, but it’s fun to engage with, nonetheless. 
“How about I drop off your usual and then we can smoke together?” Yoongi questions, a coolness in his voice. “I have a new strain you can try.”
“A new strain?” you open the shower door and get inside. The water hits your back and you lowly moan at the nice sensation of it. “That would be nice, Yoongi. How long do you think you’d be?”
“Not long. Are you in a rush?”
“No. I’m just showering.”
Yoongi is silent for a moment and you lick your lips in anticipation. 
“Getting pretty for our smoke session, I see. How nice.” there’s shuffling in the background as you laugh at his response. “I’ll be there in around 20.”
“See you.”
You scrubbed your skin furiously as if it was covered in the most dirt and grime ever. Your showers lasted longer than 10 minutes - especially when it was an everything shower. How you managed to do everything in 10 minutes was beyond you, but you managed. You still had to get out and make yourself look good without appearing as if you were trying too hard.
You tilt your head in the mirror, mind wandering. 
What if Yoongi was just a natural flirt? You were probably thinking far too into the flirtings - here you stood in front of a mirror pondering on what lingerie to wear for a man that sold you weed. Could you get any more pathetic than that?
Then again, what exactly did you have to lose?
You sigh. Your dignity was one - and so was good weed for the low if Yoongi decided to deny you.
“Fuck it.” you shrug away your nerves, deciding that even if Yoongi denied you, that wouldn’t stop you from at least attempting.
You knew Yoongi likes black - it’s all you ever truly see him in. You decided on a lacy black one you only ever wore once - for pictures - and covered it with a long t-shirt that stops at your thighs. 
Your phone sounds and you exhale a breath. You place the phone upon your ear and murmur a soft hello. “YN…” you feel the goosebumps of hearing your name come from Yoongi’s lips. “...I’m outside.”
“Coming.” you sing-song. 
It’s evening in February and that meant it was a bit chilly out, but you’d choose to ignore the piercing feeling of the cold breeze against your legs.
Yoongi’s car matched him, you thought. It was a black sedan with the darkest tint of windows you’ve ever seen. It stands out in the driveway of your way - your own car wasn’t as new as his nor was the surrounding ones belonging to your neighbors. 
The car is still on, but Yoongi assures that the lights aren’t. You got into his car swiftly, admiring how clean it was and how him it felt.
“You look nice.” Yoongi comments, flickering on the light.
“In a big ass t-shirt?” you snort, but even your heart is pounding from the compliment. If he thought you looked nice now, you wondered just how he’d like your lingerie.
Yoongi chuckles. “Yeah.” he nods. “You smell nice, too.”
You bite your lip, glancing at Yoongi's way. 
“This is a nice car.” you had to change the subject. Yoongi was such a smooth talker and everything he said had a tone of seriousness to it. It was hard not to be tongue tied around him. “You can’t get all your money just selling weed.”
Yoongi knits his brows. “Sounds like you’re fishing for information.” he murmurs. 
“Just an observation.”
Yoongi grasps a small rectangular box. He opens it, revealing pre-rolled blunts wrapped in paper. “You’re correct. It isn’t all I sell.” he says. “But, Y/N…ignorance is bliss.” Yoongi lights one of the blunts and hands it to you. “Ladies first.”
You gently grab the blunt, trying to ignore the way Yoongi’s eyes watch you. You feel nervous underneath his intense stare, contemplating how you would make your move upon him.
Yoongi licks his lips, eyes trailing down to your exposed legs. They appeared soft and smooth and he wanted to test the theory, but he held himself back.
Yoongi blinks when your hand comes into his line of vision. Yoongi shakes his head. “You can keep that one. I’ll light another.” he says, opening the box once more and grabbing yet another blunt.
You giggle. “That seems excessive.” But you take Yoongi’s word for it and continue to smoke as Yoongi lights his own. “Isn’t there a rule for using your own supply?”
Yoongi chuckles, taking a drag of his blunt. “My supply would be fine, trust me.”
“I feel bad though.” you murmur, glancing out the window. It’s hard to see with the tint and you just thought that was perfect. “I made you come all the way here for nothing.”
Yoongi is intrigued. He watches as you slowly turn towards him, body facing his way now in the large seat. He wants to tear his eyes away from the way the oversized shirt rises up your thigh, but it takes him a whole ten seconds to do so - and yes, he did count. 
“How so?” Yoongi swallows, finally lifting his eyes to reach yours. He continues to smoke as he awaits your response. 
“I don’t have any money.” your blunt was smaller than his now as you take a few puffs before continuing. “I should have told you once I realized. You know, bills, rent and all.”
Your throat feels dry. Yoongi slowly nods his head before releasing a laugh. 
“That’s fine. You don’t have to pay me.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “You’ve been a loyal customer for years.”
Your eyes watch Yoongi inhale the smoke and exhale it through his nose. Your legs clench, finishing the blunt that has grown small.
“That would be taking advantage of you. I don’t want to do that.” you shake your head. 
“I consider you a friend of mine, Y/N.” You feel the jolt in your heart that tells you that your plan was going to fail. “You’re the only one that I would give such luxuries to.”
The jolt is back, but this time your plan was back in action. “Oh?” you ask, opening the window and flickering the small bud out of it. “I consider you a friend of mine, as well. But still…”
Yoongi blinks, tilting his head. 
“...I don’t just want to leave without offering you something.”
Yoongi’s unsure if he’s completely understanding what you’re speaking but he doesn’t have a moment to digest, either. You’re fast and swift, swinging your leg around and sitting completely onto his lap. Yoongi gasps when he feels you directly on him, the oversize shirt riding up your thighs once more.
There’s an open water bottle in the cup holder and Yoongi is quick to drop the rest of his blunt inside of it, not caring if he has wasted the rest entirely because you were in his lap. Yoongi is hesitant to touch you - he wants to feel the softness of your thighs. But he allows himself to slowly, telling himself that if you didn’t want him to, you wouldn’t be in his lap now. 
“You don’t have to offer me anything.” Yoongi murmurs, leaning back into his seat and looking up at you. 
Yoongi’s hands are big and they feel nice on you. You’d recall often staring at them whenever you and he were together - usually when he was bagging your weed. 
“I want to.” your hands send electric shocks through him when he feels them onto his neck. “You’ve been good to me after all these years. Always giving me deals, supplying more than what I ask for.”
Yoongi grunts when he feels you begin to grind against him and he is but a man, and within seconds he’s painfully (and embarrassingly) hard. 
“You even used to listen to my drunk ramblings when I’d call for weed.”
Yoongi snorts. “They were entertaining.” he admits, recalling the time you’d call him in all hours of the night back during your college days, ask for your usual, then completely change the topic of conversation. He never told you to shut up like you would have in his position.
Your hands slide down from his neck to his chest. You then grip the hem of your shirt and begin to lift. Yoongi watches in a trance, eyes slightly widening. In his eyes, you move in slow motion, taking off the oversize shirt.
Yoongi feels a lump in his throat and he tries his hardest to swallow it. His eyes are fixed on you - the black lingerie you wore that hugs you perfectly. It leaves little to the imagination, a lacy material covering your skin. He can see the outlines of your nipples - aroused and hardened for him.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Yoongi manages to swallow, eyes glancing up to look at you. You’re smirking down at him, satisfied that he was tongue tied. 
“You knew you were going to come out here and do this to me.” Yoongi presse you firmly against him, hands roaming up your sides. “That’s why you smell so good and your skin is so soft.”
Yoongi doesn’t intend to hold anything back now - not as you sit in his lap and allow him to touch you freely. He leans into your neck and inhales the sweet scent of your natural aroma mixed with perfume, a scent he’s sure he smelled before. He doesn’t want to think too much into it (or admit that he has smelled you when he’s given you your usual because he wasn’t a creep).
“Guilty.” you mumble, lowering yourself so you’re a few inches from his face. 
Yoongi places his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss. It catches you by surprise for a moment, but then you melt into him. His hands roam your body, palms feeling what skin you have exposed.
Your teeth sink into Yoongi’s bottom lip, lightly tugging it. Your palms slide into the back of his neck just as Yoongi’s begin to cup your ass.
“You want to do this here?” questions Yoongi, a dark look in his eyes. He isn’t opposed to it, however, the way he wants to have you would be quite difficult in his car.
“We can go inside.” you murmur, lips kissing down his jawline. 
Licking his lips, Yoongi nods. “You know you don’t have to do this if you think you need to pay me.” he has to be sure that it’s something you truly want to do - ignoring that you did come out here in lingerie and willingly sat in his lap after he stated you didn’t have to pay him.
“Maybe I just want to fuck you.” was your response and now, Yoongi is sure that tonight you’d get exactly what you were asking for.
The next is a blur. You managed to put your shirt back on while Yoongi gathered his own belongings and getting out the car. He keeps his hands on you as he follows you back inside your home and once the door is closed, you’re on him once more.
There had to be an attraction prior to this - between the both of you. You’d notice oftentimes that Yoongi’s eyes would wander when he thought you weren’t looking, and he also noticed how you’d become so giddy or flushed when he was around. This was bound to happen sooner or later - but never Yoongi leading it. 
So you had to.
“Do you have a condom?” you ask Yoongi, possibly far too late. “I’m not on any birth control.”
Yoongi nods his head, glad that he left condoms in his wallet with him.
“I’m clean.” Yoongi mentions, a dust of crimson on his cheeks. 
You smile. “So am I.”
You then fall to your knees, lifting the oversize shirt over your head. You then place them on the belt of his jeans, eyes glancing up at him.
Goosebumps run through Yoongi’s skin at what you’re trying to do and he’s quick to help you. He loosens his belt and you do the rest.
Yoongi’s already hard from seeing you on your knees and the thought of what's about to come next. He watches with his mouth agape as you take his cock out of his underwear, licking your lips.
It’s a rush going through you right now and for an odd reason, you feel yourself clenching around nothing just at the sight of Yoongi above you - and the thought of pleasuring him. 
“Shit…” Yoongi murmurs to himself, swallowing once his mouth becomes dry. You’re pumping his cock gently, eyes admiring at how pretty it looked. He was cleanly trimmed, cock erect and twitching in your hands.
You place a kiss on the tip of Yoongi’s cock before your tongue dips out and licks a single stripe upon it as if it was a lollipop. You can hear Yoongi’s breath hitching, and it’s what motivates you to continue.
Your tongue twirls around the tip, sucking it completely into your mouth. Your eyes glance up at the man, satisfied when his eyelids are closed and he’s beginning to pant.
Yoongi tries his hardest to remain upright, but then he feels your mouth more. So wet and warm and inviting - you take him into your mouth fully, continuing to suck as if your life depended on it. Yoongi leans against your front door, the back of his head pressed against it.
Deeper and deeper, you take Yoongi in your mouth. You rarely found your own pleasure when it came to pleasuring men - but this is different.Yoongi is hot, you’d admit, and even hotter when he’s moaning and panting because of you. You find yourself cleaning your own legs for any friction.
Managing to open his eyes, Yoongi looks down at you. Your cheeks are sucked in due to all the sucking you’re doing and wet slurping could be heard. Yoongi groans again because, damn - “You’re so pretty.” he grumbles, embarrassed because he didn’t mean to say it aloud and sound so damn whipped.
Your heart jolts at Yoongi’s compliment and it only causes you to suck harder, your jaw beginning to hurt but you refuse to stop because Yoongi (your weed dealer at that) called you pretty.
Yoongi pushes himself out of you - he’s unsure how he managed. His hand grasps your chin as he pants out a pathetic, “I don’t want to cum yet.”
There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to Yoongi’s cock and it breaks when you slide your tongue over your lips.
“Okay.” you nod at Yoongi. “Maybe next time.”
Yoongi swallows and for a moment closes his eyes. You were a vixen - someone sent by the universe to fuck up his life. And most important, he was willing for you to do so.
“Y-yeah.” Yoongi mentally screams at himself for stuttering. “Next time.” He was known for his cool demeanor, a complete nonchalant person. You were breaking down walls he was certain wouldn’t bulge. 
You grin, small and cute, and nod back at him. “Next time you can return the favor, too.” you suggest. “Now I just want to ride you.”
Yoongi shudders. He’s certain now. The universe sent you indeed. It sent you to humble him, telling him that there was someone out there who could break down the walls he placed.
Your bedroom is far while the living room is a few feet away. You lift to your feet, waving at Yoongi to follow you. He does, awkwardly, lifting his pants just so they aren’t dragging across the ground.
You push Yoongi onto your couch, enjoying the sight of the man. “Condom?” you knit your brows.
“Right.” Yoongi mumbles, cheeks tinted red. He goes through his pockets and gets out his wallet. The condom falls out smoothly, a small, square black package.
You watch as Yoongi places the condom onto his cock and soon, you’re hovering above him. 
“Crotchless.” you giggle to Yoongi, who appears confused when you don’t remove the lingerie.
Yoongi gulps, nodding his head. You don’t allow him a chance to process, you’re already centering yourself and slowly engulfing him fully. 
Yoongi shudders at your warmth, even through the condom, of your pussy. He bites his lip, hands immediately on your hips as you begin to rise and fall. You’re so beautiful, his hands slide up your sides and then cup your breasts. With the lingerie you’re wearing, your breasts are seconds from falling out and he decides to speed up the process. 
“I’ve wanted you for so long.” Yoongi muffles himself between your breasts, large hands squeezing them. He kisses them, his tongue poking out to lick a nipple.
“Me, too.” you huff, your nails digging into the shirt of his shoulders. You imagined far too many times what Yoongi’s cock looked like and what it would look like inside of you.
Yoongi begins to thrust with you, his left holding the flesh of your ass. His tongue continues to twirl on your nipple in utter boyish bliss. He ponders while fucking you what you’d feel like raw - he imagines how tight you’d be around him, how wet and even warmer than you are now
“Shit…you’re so tight.” Yoongi kisses up your neck. “All for me.”
There’s a change in Yoongi’s tone of voice, no longer a stutter or a tint of uneasiness. You feel it in the way he begins to thrust harder, no longer allowing you to take control. So this was the Yoongi you knew (now know sexually) - cool, nonchalant and dominant.
With each thrust Yoongi hits a sweet spot and you moan with pleasure. His eyes continue to watch you contort with different emotions at what he’s doing. “You’re moaning like you’re in love, baby.”
You suck in a breath at the pet name. Fuck Yoongi, seriously, because you probably did look that way. But it wasn’t your fault - you don’t get fucked this good often and when you do well…
“You haven’t stopped moaning either.” you retort, somehow managing to find your words. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, your lips close to his ears. “Almost like you’re in love.”
Yoongi feels it - your tongue. It swipes at his ear teasingly and that’s all he needed to flip you onto your back, hitting the couch rapidly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and lifts his shirt a bit so he can continue to fuck into you. The position allows him to go even deeper, hitting that spot so sweet that you’re wailing.
“So wet. Wish I could feel you.” Yoongi says more to himself than you. There’s a creamy wetness wrapped around the condom, your pussy leaking with pleasure. 
You begin to pant, eyes snapping shut. You were beginning to think that maybe you were becoming dick drunk, because your next words surprise you just as it does him. “If you can pull out, you can take off the condom. Cum on me, too.”
“Shit, baby, really?” Yoongi halts his thrusts. Did he hear you correctly? “You can’t be that high.” he jokes.
“Fuck you.” you hiss low. “Just take it off and fuck me, Yoongi.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Yoongi does as he’s told, quickly getting up to undress his bottom half. He removes the condom and looks around.
“Just throw it-”
“I’m not throwing it on the ground.” Yoongi raises a brow. “I’m not a caveman.” He was far too respectful and sanitary for that,even if it was just for a moment.
You huff and nod, pointing behind you to the direction of the bathroom. 
Yoongi dashes down the hall, discards the condom, and rushes back. He kisses your cheek quickly, centering himself back at your whole.
Yoongi winces, then shudders.
You felt better than he’d imagined - warm, wet and still tight. He’s slow at first, trying to collect himself. Your legs are over his shoulder again, and he reaches inside of you deeper and deeper. 
“You look in love.” you joke, mocking him. Yoongi hasn’t looked away from your pussy since he started. 
“Maybe I am.” Yoongi’s nails dig into your thighs, his thrusts picking up the pace. The sweet sounds of your moans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy hit his ears. “You’re clenching around me so tight.” his eyes flicker to you, and he smirks. “Like you want me to cum in you.”
Yoongi pounds inside of you, each thrust aggressively deep. You don’t mean to say it - but Yoongi was playing a dangerous game as if you weren’t already high and horny.
“Maybe I do.”
Yoongi grumbles something inaudible. Indeed you were sent from the universe - he’s read about nymphs and you’re beginning to fit the description. 
“You do, huh?” Yoongi opens your legs and marvels at the sight of your pussy, his cock being milked with your essence lovingly. His thumbs place itself onto your clit and he rubs. “You’re just talking. Good weed and dick would do that to you.”
Cocky Yoongi is back and damn was it hot.
You opened your eyes to see Yoongi in the act. 
A mistake.
Yoongi’s looks completely feral, eyes dark with lust. His hair sticks to his forehead and his mouth is slightly agape, panting to himself. His eyes are fixed to your pussy and you decided to see just what he saw.
You were cumming now - Yoongi circling your clit just as rough as he was fucking you. His cock fits perfectly inside of you and watching the way he fucks you just sends you completely over the edge. 
“There you go, baby.” chuckles Yoongl raspily, witnessing you cum for him. “You look pretty cumming on my cock.”
A few more sloppy thrusts and Yoongi’s certain he’s near. He bites his lip, pulling out of you abruptly. His cum spills on your clit, warm and slippery.
You huff, shaking your head. “You managed to pull out.” you murmur.
Yoongi falls back against the couch to catch your breath. “Almost didn’t.” he admits with a laugh. “You hungry?”
You nod your lazily, the side effects of the weed coming to you. 
“I can get us something to eat.” Yoongi offers. “Free of charge. You don’t have to fuck me-”
You kick Yoongi, a rush of hot embarrassment running through you, but all the man does is laugh, gummy smile on full display.
part 2 (coming oct. 14) | teaser to part 2
2K notes · View notes
genderqueerdykes · 7 months ago
Text
please for the love of god, if you are someone who creates videos or know someone who does, PLEASE include a voice-over warning with your on-screen text warning when it comes to epilepsy and photosensitivity. it is DANGEROUS to force the person to look at the screen in order to see the warning. what if they look away just long enough to miss it? what if they left the video playing and left the room for a few to get a drink?
a text warning is great for deaf and hard of hearing people, but a voice over alongside it is also needed alongside it. BOTH are needed to ensure that all photosensitive people are given proper warning. also please make sure the text stays on screen long enough for people to actually read. if you don't include a text warning that is actually readable you are putting deaf/HoH epileptic people at risk.
photosensitivity is triggered by someone LOOKING at the flashing lights with their eyes. please do not force people to have to scrub through a video visually in order to find a warning. this is so dangerous. please research epilepsy and photosensitivity if you are a video creator. i'm serious. you could injure or kill someone by not giving a proper warning. photosensitivity isn't just someone squinting because the lights are irritating. this can and will cause an episode that could mean people end up in the hospital. take this seriously. people's health and safety is on the line. people shouldn't have to worry about getting triggered into a seizure for the sake of entertainment.
a few seconds of voice over does not take that much time to include when voiceover is half of the video. you're going to be talking for a while anyway. just include a simple "Seizure warning: This video contains flashing/strobing/etc. lights that may trigger seizures in epileptic and photosensitive individuals, viewer discretion is advised." please. i'm begging you on behalf of one of my good friends. take this seriously.
1K notes · View notes
bakugoushotwife · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!
warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.
summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!
Tumblr media
it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 
satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 
he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 
he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?
that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 
this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.
your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 
“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 
“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 
you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 
but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 
“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 
“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 
“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 
“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 
he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 
you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 
“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 
“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 
he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 
“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 
“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 
“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 
you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 
“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 
no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 
“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 
“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 
“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 
you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”
“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 
your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 
“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 
but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 
you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 
though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.
his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 
“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 
“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 
in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 
“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 
your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 
you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 
“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 
“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 
your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”
“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 
“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 
“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 
“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 
your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 
you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife. 
3K notes · View notes
flowerbetweenfangs · 8 months ago
Text
A Lesson In Discipline
Warnings: Breeding/Mating/Use of Pheromones
When you had brought the jars of pheromones, there was a bit of doubt lingering in the back of your mind. After all, plenty had taken advantage of the werewolf pack moving into your city. While the identities of the members were a secret, they were always skulking about on the full moon, picking their mate for the night.
Those who were chosen said it was the best sex of their life, raw and primal. Bowlegged walks and the scent that clung to them gave credence to their claim. And for the remaining cycle of the moon, they would have good fortune and preferential treatment as the packmember’s mate.
You dabbed a drop behind your ears. While your nose couldn’t pick anything up, you hadn’t expected it to. Hopefully, you hadn’t been duped with just plain water.
The next day while out, you caught a few people looking at you with hunger. Glazed over eyes, lips parted slightly as drool seeps out just enough to moisten lips, some stand up taller, muscles taut as they look ready to pounce on you, a slight rumble in chests and throats as they look you over, nostrils flaring as they drink in your scent.
Even when you washed behind your ears in the public bathroom at university, you could see the few who let their gazes linger just a little longer. The glimmer of hunger was there, but restraint had returned. It figured college students would be a prime pick for the pack.
During your latest lecture, a few stragglers seemed to paying more attention to you than the professor. Tight fists gripped pens and pencils hard enough to snap, fingers pounded on keyboards despite the owners not taking their eyes off you. The overwhelming scent of musk quickly filled the air as condensation formed on the large windows facing the courtyard.
When the bell rang, a sense of relief washed over you when the professor clapped his hands together.
“Class dismissed!” His normally monotone voice boomed through the classroom. The lookers slumped and slunk out. If they had tails, they would be between their legs.
“Except for you.” The professor pointed right at you.
As you walked closer, you noticed his nails seemed to be a little longer than usual. Or maybe they had always been that way? He leaned on his desk, but still towered over you.
“What were you thinking?” He hissed. His canines were slightly elongated, the rest of his teeth tapered. “Wearing something so potent?”
“Sir?” You asked. You swallowed hard, a quiver in your stomach.
“There are less disciplined wolves out in the city.” His nails scraped against the top of the desk, small shavings curling under the tips. “If you wander off campus, then you’ll be putting a target on your back.”
“I tried to scrub it off.” You confessed, not even trying to feign ignorance or innocence. “I thought that—”
“Less disciplined wolves wouldn’t give you a warning.” He growled, his muscles audibly straining as he gripped the desk tighter. Even as he spoke, there was a shift in his pants’ fabric as his erection grew. “Fortunately for you… I’m far more restrained.”
“Thank you for the warning.” You managed to stutter out, although you could feel the desire starting to fan to life inside you. He was an older man, but remarkably handsome, silver hair and a beard, with caramel colored eyes that looked almost amber. His dress clothes were tight against his body. Strong, and big. Both wide and tall.
Your face burned, and you hoped he didn’t see it. Actually, a small part hoped he did.
“You’re in no danger as long as you remain on campus.” He assured you, finally letting go of the desk and closing the distance between you. The scent of his cologne was strong. No, not cologne… Musk.
“We deal with unruly pack members diligently.”
The windows seemed to fog up more when he leaned down to your neck. Warm breath rolled over your neck as he panted, taking in your scent.
“That includes mates.”
(Part 02 is here!)
1K notes · View notes
cumironi · 3 months ago
Note
i LOVE your works and i was wondering if you could write their ( toji, nanami, geto and gojo) reaction to you refusing to let them shower with the reader on purpose? if not that’s fine too! have a great dayyy.
Tumblr media
SAVE THE WATER, SHOWER TOGETHER !’
you refuse to let your boyfriend join you in the shower, featuring. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna.
Tumblr media
GOJO SATORU!’
as the warm steam curled through the bathroom, you were about to step into the shower when you caught movement from the corner of your eye. there, leaning casually against the doorframe, stood gojo with his arms crossed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. his eyes sparkled with that usual mischievous glint, and you knew exactly what he was about to suggest before he even opened his mouth.
“soooo,” he began, his voice light and teasing, “need a little company in there? you know, someone to scrub your back?”
you sighed, not even glancing back as you adjusted the water temperature. “you know, you ask this every time,” you replied, your tone flat but laced with amusement. “and every time, the answer’s still the same.”
gojo pouted at your reply, moving into the bathroom and leaning against the wall near doorframe so that he blocked any escape. “oh, come on,” he whined, his bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated frown, “it’s not like i’ve ever been boring.” he stepped closer, his arms uncrossing as he reached out and tugged gently at your towel. “besides, showering alone is so lonely. i could make it much more… enjoyable.”
you turned to him, one eyebrow arching as you met his gaze. a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you crossed your own arms over your chest. “oh, babe, i don’t doubt that,“ you said, your tone teasing, eyes narrowing slightly. “i’m sure you'd make it very enjoyable.”
gojo’s grin widened, thinking he was getting somewhere, but before he could celebrate, you added with a playful roll of your eyes, “but you’d also waste a ton of water. and we both know you’re just going to end up making a mess.”
gojo’s grin faltered for a second, but it was quickly replaced with a mock-hurt expression. “oh, come on now,” he protested, placing his hand over his heart in a melodramatic gesture. “don’t insult me like that. i’m perfectly capable of controlling myself, thank you very much.”
he moved closer, his hands now resting on your hips, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin. “besides, do you really think i care about wasting water when i could have a nice, steamy shower with the most beautiful woman in the world?”
you shook your head, biting back a laugh as you placed your hands on his chest, gently pushing him away. despite the firm rejection, your eyes gleamed with mischief, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “no, babe. absolutely not.”
he gave you that charming smile, eyes twinkling, as if expecting you to give in any moment, but you raised a brow at him. “do i need to remind you what happened the last time we showered together?”
gojo blinked, his grin faltering again as you continued, “you broke my shampoo bottle, knocked over everything on the shelf, and somehow managed to flood half the bathroom.” you smirked, leaning closer, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “so, no. i’d rather not have a repeat of that.”
gojo let out a dramatic huff, his hands still resting on your hips, thumbs now tracing along your sides. he knew he was not winning this argument, but he always had to try. “hey, that was not my fault,” he protested, looking for all the world like a scolded puppy. “the shampoo bottle just... slipped. and the flood was a complete accident.”
he leaned in closer, his gaze sultry, as he tried once more to sway you. “how about i promise to be good this time? no mess, no accidents. just me, you, and a… very pleasurable shower.”
you laughed softly at his persistence, unable to hide your amusement, but you weren’t giving in that easily. you knew exactly what ‘pleasurable’ meant when it came to gojo, and you had no intention of letting him get his way. “and how many times have you promised that before?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
gojo chuckled sheepishly at your callout, his fingers still playing with the edge of your towel. “maybe a few times,” he admitted, a sly grin on his face. “but come on, you know I mean it this time. pinky promise.” he held up his pinky finger, wiggling it at you in a playful manner, as if sealing the deal.
you laughed again, shaking your head as you stepped forward, placing your hands firmly on his chest. “no,” you said, your voice playful but final. with gentle pressure, you started pushing him toward the door, slowly and playfully, until he was backed out of the bathroom.
gojo allowed himself to be pushed back out into the hallway, a hint of amusement in his eyes. he knew he was not going to win this time, but he wasn’t going to give up that easily.
“you’re missing out, you know,” he said, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes roamed over your figure, still covered by the towel. “a shower with me is a damn good time.”
you rolled your eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. gojo’s relentless charm always had a way of getting to you, even when you were determined to be firm.
“oh, i’m well aware of how good a time a shower with you can be. but i value my sanity and a non-flooded bathroom more than that,” you mumble, leaning closer to give him a quick kiss.
GETO SUGURU!’
you casually draped your towel over your shoulder as you headed toward the bathroom, fully prepared for a peaceful shower. your mind was elsewhere, already focused on the warm water that awaited you, when you heard a sudden shuffle from the bed. geto, who had been lounging comfortably moments before, was now instantly on his feet, following closely behind with a wide grin on his face.
feeling his presence just a step behind, you furrowed your brows and glanced over your shoulder, catching his mischievous gaze. “why are you following me?” you asked, confused but already knowing the answer.
he shrugged casually, his grin never faltering. “wherever you go, i go,” he said, voice smooth and teasing. you raised an eyebrow, stopping just outside the bathroom door. “oh, really? and what do you plan on doing in there?”
he chuckled at your question, leaning against the wall next to the door. “oh, you know. i was thinking of lending you a hand in the shower,” he said, his eyes glimmering with mischief.
he moved closer to you, his body towering over yours as he placed a hand on the doorframe, effectively blocking any escape route. “after all, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to make sure you’re thoroughly cleaned,” he teased, his voice dripping with innuendo.
you raised an eyebrow at him, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “oh? extra service, huh?” you tilted your head, feigning thought for a moment. “well, i don’t think i paid for that today.”
geto’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying your playful resistance as he leaned even closer, still blocking the door. “don’t worry, babe. this one’s on the house,” he whispered, his tone dripping with flirtation. you chuckled, shaking your head as you lightly pushed against his chest. “tempting, but no thanks. i’ll manage just fine on my own.” you slid past him with a grin, slipping into the bathroom.
geto let out a mock pout as you slipped past him into the bathroom, his arms crossing over his chest. “aww, come on. you're no fun,” he called out, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
he leaned against bathroom doorframe, listening to the sound of the shower starting. he let out a small sigh, a smirk forming on his face as a mischievous idea came to him. he waited for a moment, counting the seconds in his head before he spoke up again. “you know, it’s dangerous to shower alone...”
you turned toward him, already knowing where this was going, a sly smile playing on your lips. “oh, is it?” you called out as you casually started stripping, tossing your clothes to the side without a second thought. “and what kind of danger are we talking about here? other than a perverted boyfriend lurking around?”
a soft laugh escaped his lips as you teasingly discarded your clothes, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin before meeting your gaze. “oh, you know. the kind of danger that comes with not having me there to protect you,” he replied, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.
he pushed himself away from the doorframe and started to saunter towards the bathroom, his footsteps slow and deliberate. “and we can’t have anything happening to my precious girlfriend now, can we?”
you met his gaze, smirking as you stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over your bare skin. “i think i'm perfectly fine,” you said, your tone light and teasing. “pretty sure no one's gonna jump me while i’m in here.”
the water kissed your skin as you turned your back to him, enjoying the sensation of the steam filling the air. you could feel his eyes still on you, but you refused to let him win this round. “besides, the only danger i see around here is you,” you added with a playful glance over your shoulder.
he chuckled, the sound low and deep as he leaned against the tile wall, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes roamed over your wet, exposed body, appreciating the view before him. “oh, really?” he drawled, his tone dripping with challenge. “and why is that?”
he took a leisurely step closer to the shower, his eyes never leaving your back. “i seem to recall you liking the danger i come with,” he continued, his voice lowering to a seductive whisper.
you felt his gaze burning into your back, the heat of it nearly as warm as the water cascading over your skin. his words hung in the air, tempting and teasing, but you weren't about to let him have his way so easily.
without turning around, you whispered, “i think you should leave,” the playful edge in your voice is unmistakable.
with a soft chuckle, you slid the glass door shut between the two of you, the faint smirk on your lips not hidden from him. you heard him let out a mock sigh, but you knew he wasn’t going anywhere. “good luck with that,” you muttered under your breath, enjoying the feeling of having the upper hand for once.
when you slid the glass door shut, separating the two of you, geto let out an exaggerated sigh, feigning disappointment. “aww, come on,” he called, his hands landing on the glass as he pressed up against it.
he could see your silhouette through the misted glass, the sight of you naked in the shower only fueling his desire. he let out a low chuckle, a knowing smirk on his lips as he leaned against the shower door. “you really think a little glass door is going to keep me away?”
NANAMI KENTO!’
you were nestled comfortably against nanami’s chest, his arm wrapped around you as the soft glow of the movie flickered on the screen. the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing had lulled you into a sense of complete relaxation. but suddenly, you shifted, trying to pull away from his embrace.
“i’m gonna take a shower,” you murmured, starting to sit up. nanami’s arm instinctively tightened around you, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced down at you. “right now?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with mild confusion.
“mm-hmm,” you replied, a soft smile tugging at your lips. you wriggled a little, but his hold was firm, clearly not ready to let you go so easily.
he sighed, leaning his head back on the couch as if accepting defeat but keeping his arm loosely around you. “can i join?” he asked, his tone teasing but with a subtle hint of hope. you chuckled softly, glancing at the screen and then back at him. “noooo.”
he sighed softly in mock disappointment, his hand now resting on your hip, his touch both possessive and tender. “you’re being quite the tease, you know.” he teased. he slowly pulled you on top of him, his hands sliding down to your thighs to keep you in place on his lap.
his fingers absentmindedly traced circles on the bare skin of your thighs, his eyes never leaving your face as he continued his playful banter. “showering without me… what am i supposed to do while you’re gone?”
you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, your eyes flicking from the screen back to his face as you tried to stifle a grin. “i don’t know,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes, “watch a movie, maybe?”
he let out a dry chuckle, his lips curving into a half-smile as he arched an eyebrow at your cheeky response. “ah, yes, because that's exactly what I had in mind.” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcastic annoyance as he rolled his eyes dramatically.
he slid his hands up to your hips, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he pulled you closer, the heat from his body meeting yours through the thin fabric separating you.
nanami's dry chuckle softened into something more playful as his hands rested firmly on your hips, pulling you closer until your bodies were almost pressed together. his half-smile deepened as his gaze locked with yours, his eyes flickering with just a hint of mischief.
“you know,” he began, his voice smooth and steady, “being the gentleman that I am, it’s only right I join you in the shower. can’t have you slipping and falling without someone there to catch you.”
his tone was persistent, but there was a teasing edge to it, as if he already knew the answer but enjoyed the game of wearing you down. his hands slid gently up your waist, fingers grazing your skin as he added with a smirk, “besides, i’d hate to miss the opportunity to ensure you’re... properly taken care of.”
his words hung in the air, and though his expression remained calm and composed, there was no hiding the playful intent behind them. you raised an eyebrow at his words, your lips curving into a smirk as you playfully rolled your eyes. “properly taken care of?” you repeated, the sarcasm in your voice evident as you leaned in just slightly, your breath ghosting against his lips. “and here i thought you were just worried about me slipping.”
he chuckled again, the sound low and rich as he let his hands wander leisurely over the curves of your body, his touch both deliberate and tantalising, as if he was in no rush.
“you caught me,” he murmured, the corners of his lips curving into a half-smile, “i couldn’t possibly allow you to shower all alone. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” he paused for a moment, his fingers tracing a lazy path along your skin, “plus, i’m quite looking forward to helping you… soap up.”
you hummed softly, pretending to consider his words as your hands slowly slid across his chest, your touch featherlight. his muscles tensed slightly under your fingertips, but his half-smile never wavered.
“hmm,” you mused, drawing lazy circles on his chest, “as tempting as that sounds, i think i can handle ‘soaping-up’ just fine on my own.”
your voice was teasing, playful, but firm enough that nanami could tell you weren't about to let him have his way this time. your lips curled into a smirk as you leaned in just a bit closer, your breath warm against his neck. “besides,” you added in a whisper, “you wouldn’t want to get distracted from the movie now, would you?”
with that, you gently pushed away from him, stepping toward the bathroom, glancing back over your shoulder with a mischievous glint in vour eye.
he watched you with a mix of amusement and frustration as you slowly disentangled yourself from his lap. his gaze trailed over your form, taking in every curve and contour, as if trying to commit your figure to memory. his expression was a mixture of playfulness and annoyance, clearly not appreciating being denied.
he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest as he let out a sigh of fake resignation. “oh, fine. go ahead and deprive me of the chance to witness your ‘soaping up’. i guess i’ll just have to sit here and suffer through the rest of the movie alone.”
TOJI FUSHIGURO!’
your head rested on toji’s broad chest, rising and falling with his steady breaths as the aftermath of your intimate moment lingered in the air. the room was thick with warmth, your bodies tangled beneath the covers, slick with sweat and the remnants of your passion.
you sighed softly, feeling the stickiness of your skin against his, a slight grimace tugging at your lips. “i need to take a shower,” you mumbled, half to yourself, your voice lazy and tired. “i hate feeling all sticky and clammy after... well, this. especially when i’m about to sleep.”
toji grunted in acknowledgment, his hand lazily running down your back. he didn’t say anything at first, just hummed as if he was contemplating letting you go. his grip on you tightened slightly, as if unwilling to let the warmth of your body leave his just yet. “a shower, huh?” he finally muttered, his voice gravelly and deep. “you sure you don’t wanna just sleep it off?”
you shook your head, chuckling softly. “no way. i’ll sleep better after. plus, you’re the one who’s all sweaty too,” you teased, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.
he let out a soft huff of laughter, his chest rumbling beneath you as he rolled his eyes playfully. “yeah, yeah, ’m sweaty too. but i don’t mind it as much as you do,” he teased back, his fingers tracing light patterns down your spine. “you’re the one who always complains about feeling sticky and clammy. you’re such a princess.”
he shifted slightly beneath you, as if debating whether to let you go or not. “lemme join you, doll.”
you let out a sarcastic chuckle, the sound soft but filled with playful mockery. “oh, you’re funny, baby,” you mused, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze with an arched brow. “but no.”
you slid out of his hold slowly, feeling the cool air hit your skin as you sat up on his chest, straddling him. turning your head down slightly to glance at him, you added with a smirk, “besides, i can handle a shower on my own, tough guy. you can enjoy your sweaty self right here.”
toji's hands immediately found your hips, his grip firm as he chuckled at your cheeky rebuttal. “oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” he drawled, his eyes filled with amusement as he looked up at you. “you’re a tease, doll. you’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?”
he lifted his hips up slightly, his body pressing up against you, his desire clear against your thighs. “you sure you don’t want me to join you, princess?”
you nodded slowly, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as your fingers lightly traced the firm lines of his chest. “pretty sure,” you murmured, leaning down just a bit, your breath warm against his skin. “besides, i already know exactly what i do to you.”
your body, still bare, sat poised on his chest as you held his gaze with a teasing glint in your eyes. “but i’m still gonna shower alone,” you whispered, your hand pressing gently against his chest as if to keep him in place. “so, stay right here and be a good boy, yeah?” you added playfully, sliding off of him slowly, feeling his eyes on you as you stood up.
he watched you closely, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and playful annoyance as you slid off him. he let out a huff of resignation, reluctantly obeying your command and staying right where he was.
“you’re a cruel little thing, doll,” he muttered, his body relaxing back into the bed as he watched you. “but fine. i’ll be a good boy and wait for you.” he let his eyes roam over your naked body unabashedly, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“hurry back though,” he added, his eyes lingering on your curves as you started to move towards the bathroom. “don’t keep me waiting too long. the sheets are lonely without you, y’know.”
596 notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 22 days ago
Text
tw// slllllightly suggestive for the point of comedy, rintaro being goofy, children arguing lol
——
Akito, Kaiya, and the terror twins haven’t touched one dish in forty minutes.
There’s a lot of fighting happening in the kitchen, about who’s going to scrub and who’s going to load the dish washer, and from your twins, who’s going to wash their hands first.
Akito, at the ripe age of 15, is having absolutely nothing to do with Kaiya’s scrubbing, complaining it’s not “good enough.” Kaiya reminds him that she does not care.
Rintaro knows you’re tired. Exhausted even, the kids have all been at each other’s throats all week, and he watches your eyes flutter shut to try and block out the arguing, only to open and finish packing the leftovers, trying to be strong and let them figure it out for themselves.
Your shoulders start to shake from anxiety, hands stalling, and Rintaro feels his heart breaking.
He’s got to step in, be a firm dad, even if his kids don’t always take him seriously.
“Alright, enough,” Rintaro growls, making his way over to the four kids in the kitchen. You turn to face him too, a brow quirked in wonder for his new attitude. “Listen to me; your mother threw her back into dinner, I did all your laundry, and now you want to whine about dishes? We all help with chores, tonight is no different. What is the hold up? Why the fighting?”
“Wouldn’t have to if Kaiya knew how to scrub the dish before passing it to me!” Akito hisses.
“Does the dishwasher not do that for me!” She grumbles.
“Sachie pushed me out of the way of the sink!” Sachiko whines.
“She usin’ all the soap!” Sachie complains.
“Okay, that’s it!” Rintaro bites. The room goes quiet. You stop putting away left overs and turn to face him, a smirk slowly growing. His eyes look to yours, and he watches your teeth sink into your lip at his display of authority.
God, how he loves that look on you.
…..an idea pops in his head.
“From now on, you all want to give me attitude and fight with me on chores? I’m flirting with mom in front of you.”
“WHAT?”
There’s a chorus of confusion that breaks out over the kitchen, Akito pulling a face of disgust while Kaiya groans in disbelief. “That’s right,” Rintaro continues. “You want to whine about doing dishes, or cleaning your rooms, or folding your laundry, I’m going to hit on mom!” His head turns to you, a smirk in his features, “hey there, sugar.”
You start to giggle nervously, warmth spreading over your face as your hands come up to hide it, “rinnie!”
“God, you’re so pretty,” he rasps, and in the background, Kaiya wails in agony. “How’s about you and I uh… get to know each other-“
“Oh my god dad, please-“ Akito begs.
“We get it, you’re obsessed with mom,” Kaiya manages behind her hands.
Your five year olds, however, giggle at the displays of affection, watching your body language tense up in embarrassment for Rintaro’s sudden display. It’s something all your kids used to do, growing up watching Rintaro be all over you. As they’ve gotten older, their excitement to watch their parents love on each other has turned into embarrassment, but there’s no doubt in any of the kids’ minds about how in love you two are.
And at the end of the day, that’s all you both want.
Rintaro smirks and rests his hands on your hips, big hands splaying over the bones, “man, you drive me wild, you know that? Makes me wanna give you another baby-“
“NO!” You wail, interrupting whatever he was about to say.
“DAAAAAAAD!”
“WE’RE SORRY!”
“Wait, so where do babies come from?”
“From now on,” Rintaro continues, looking at his four kids over his shoulder (and purposefully ignoring the last question). “You wanna be brats? I hit on the mom. This is not a democracy nor a negotiation. The more you complain, the more mom’s gonna blush.” He looks back at you and smirks, “because holy cow do I love to make mom blush.”
“EUGHHH!”
The only sounds for a moment are giggles from Sachie and Sachiko, everyone holding their breath to see if Rintaro will continue with his affections, or if he’s already thrown in the towel.
“I don’t hear any dishes or hands being washed!”
Immediately, all four kids spring into action, dishes softly clanging while Akito and Kaiya whisper among themselves in embarrassment over what they just witnessed. Sachie and Sachiko take turns pumping the hand soap for each other, making the plastic bottle covered in sticky soap, but at least the fighting has ceased.
Rintaro sighs and puckers his lips out for a kiss, which you offer him excitedly. “Thank you,” you murmur against him.
“Welcome, babygirl,” he says back.
“I HEARD THAT!” Akito wails.
-
HEHEHEHEHEHEHE
489 notes · View notes