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#Damn there's a few misses looking into it
candycandy00 · 2 days
Note
congrats on 2k!! Character: Gojo AU Setting: Mascarade Level: NSFW Mood: Writer's choice Kinks: Praise and Spanking
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Once Upon a Time - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic Part 1
Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! First up is Cinderella starring Gojo! You met Prince Gojo as a child and fell in love, but you’re sure he doesn’t remember you. When you’re forced to take your stepsister’s place as his “pleasure” for the evening, you’ll get your reunion, but it might not be what you hoped for. 
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Fairytale AU. Gojo as Prince Charming. Reader as Cinderella. Dubcon. Coercion. Oral. Spanking. Rough sex. Light bondage. Mentions of abuse by the wicked stepmother and stepsisters. 
Any and all feedback would be appreciated so much! There will probably be three parts. Dividers by @benkeibear.
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The crowds are bigger than usual today as you walk along the cobblestone street, carrying a bag of items you bought at the local market. You’re in a hurry to get home and start dinner before your stepmother gets angry. If you’re even a few minutes late, she’ll either take the rod to your arms or not allow you to eat. 
Someone in the crowd calls out, “Look, there he is!” Another voice, feminine, excitedly yells, “Prince Gojo!”
The sound of his name stops you cold in the middle of the street. You look out across the river of people, across the roadway reserved for carriages. On the opposite street, flanked by guards in crisp uniforms, you spot him. 
He’s difficult to miss. Taller than everyone else nearby, with stark white hair, flawless skin, and crystal blue eyes brighter than the sun. He’s smiling and waving at the people as he makes his way down the street. 
You can’t help stopping to watch, dinner be damned, because you and the prince have history. Even if you’re certain he doesn’t remember it.
You were ten, he was twelve, and you didn’t even realize he was the prince. He’d introduced himself as Satoru when he found you ducked behind a set of stone steps leading to a flower shop in the town square. You had run away from your house after the first time your stepmother used a rod to beat welts into your arms and hands. You were crying, covered in marks and bruises, still grieving over the recent loss of your father. 
That’s when a radiant boy with an angelic smile appeared, asking you what was wrong. You were embarrassed to be seen that way, so you wiped your face and said you were fine. 
“You don’t look fine,” he’d said. “Want me to help you?”
You couldn’t fathom how a boy so close to your age could help you, but you were glad that someone wanted to. Soon after, you heard voices calling out the name he’d given you, and he blanched. “Ugh, that’s my nanny,” he said with a grimace. Then he looked straight at you with those beautiful clear eyes and said, “You ran away from home too, right? Let’s run away together!”
Satoru took your hand and pulled you out from behind the steps, dragging you along with him as he ran down the street. As a child, at that moment, you thought you were actually free of the abuse you endured at home. Satoru was going to take you far away, and you’d never come back. 
Of course, you were both children, so running away together meant making it to the edge of the woods and playing among the trees for a few hours. You held hands and danced beneath the shade of the forest canopy, chased a rabbit that refused to let you pet it, pretended to be a princess that he rescued from an imaginary ogre, and laughed together under the setting sun. 
It was the most wonderful day you’d ever had, until you both got hungry. When he suggested going back, your heart sank, but even at that age you understood the reality of your situation. 
Back in town, you stopped in front of a fancy boutique and looked through the display window. It was full of dazzling dresses, hats, and jewelry. But what drew your attention most was the pair of delicate glass slippers, with their shiny inlaid stones and lovely shape. 
Satoru stood beside you. “Do you like those?” 
“They’re beautiful,” you replied, staring at them longingly. You’d seen them there many times before, and you spent every available moment standing in front of that window, enjoying the view. 
Satoru disappeared, and a few seconds later a lady came to the other side of the window and retrieved the slippers. You watched in shock as Satoru walked out of the boutique with a package in his hands. He reached it to you. “Here. We probably won’t see each other again for a long time, but maybe these can cheer you up when I’m not around.”
You opened the package, already knowing yet not believing what was inside. Those beautiful shoes were in your hands! Even though you didn’t fully understand how valuable they were, you did grasp that not just anyone could walk in and buy them. “But… they cost a lot of money, don’t they?” 
He grinned. “That’s no problem for me. And I know they’re too big for you now, so when you’re older, and they fit you, come see me. I’ll make sure you never cry again!”
You hugged the shoes to your chest as you looked up at him. “How will I find you? Do you live nearby?”
He laughed. “Oh, you’ll find me. Trust me.”
At that moment, a royal guard appeared, looking a bit frazzled. “There you are! The whole castle is in a state of panic, Your Highness! Where have you been?”
Satoru shrugged. “I was just playing with my friend.”
The guard called to another passing guard, “I found Prince Gojo!”
Your eyes went wide as you realized exactly who you’d been playing with all day. As the guards led him away, he looked back at you over his shoulder and winked.
From that moment on, you have been deeply, madly, in love with Prince Gojo. 
When you got home that night, you managed to hide the shoes before your stepmother found you and punished you severely. You knew she would either take them for one of her own daughters who were slightly older than you, or sell them. 
Occasionally, when you’re certain that no one will see, you pull the shoes out and admire them. They make you think of Satoru, of his beautiful crystal eyes. You’ve been trying them on for years, and now that you’ve grown up, they fit you perfectly. 
He told you to find him, but you know exactly where he is. At this very moment, he’s only feet away from you. But the reality you’ve come to accept, one he probably didn’t realize himself as a child, is that someone like you could never approach the crown prince. You’re the daughter of a minor lord who died years ago, leaving his meager fortune to his wife, your stepmother, who only shares enough with you to keep you alive. You have nothing but shabby old dresses to wear, and you smell of sweat and hard work. 
No, best to simply love him from afar, to long for him, ache for him, but never reach out to him. 
As you watch, he disappears into a cafe, two of his guards following and the rest remaining outside to keep the crowd from storming the place. Prince Gojo is extremely popular with the common people, especially since his father has basically turned most of the ruling duties over to him. Poverty is rare, crime is even rarer. Prince Gojo’s policies have benefitted everyone. Add to that his otherworldly beauty and his friendly personality, and you have a monarch that’s beloved by all. 
A few times a month, he comes to the small town surrounding his castle and spends all day and evening there. He interacts with the people, hears their concerns, and patronizes local businesses. You’ve heard whispered rumors that he invites pretty young noblewomen to his room at the inn. Your heart burns to think of him with other women, so you try not to think about it at all. You’ve also heard that he’s being encouraged to take a wife soon. You try to think even less about that. 
In the end, you make it home ten minutes late, and your stepmother gives you ten lashings across your extended arms with the rod. You barely flinch when the rod connects with your skin. You’re used to it by now. Even though you’re an adult now, you have no means of surviving without her support. She controls your father’s estate after all. You have no choice but to endure her abuse. 
While you cook dinner, your two stepsisters sit at the table, demanding to know when you’ll be finished. 
“Just a few more minutes,” you tell them, stirring the pot of stew on the stove before checking the bread in the oven. 
“It better not be longer than that,” one of them says, “or we’ll tell mother you’re slacking off!”
The other laughs loudly. “So hurry it up, Cinderella!”
You wince. Cinderella isn’t your name. It’s a cruel nickname your stepsisters gave you after you cleaned the fireplace one day and emerged covered in dirt and cinders. 
Without another word to them, you finish dinner. When your stepmother joins them at the table, you serve all three of them bowls of soup, along with fresh buttered bread, and then take your much smaller serving to your tiny bedroom to eat alone.
*************************
Prince Gojo is sitting in one of the finest restaurants in town. The food doesn’t compare to the luxurious dishes he’s served at the castle, but he enjoys trying new dishes. He smiles to the cook who brought out his plate. 
“It looks delicious!” he tells the elderly man. 
The man beams with pride. “Thank you so much, Your Highness! We’ve prepared a special dessert for you as well. Please let us know when you’re ready to try it.”
Gojo grins at him. “That sounds great! I appreciate your kindness!”
Once the man walks away, Gojo looks across the table at his friend-turned-advisor. “So? Do you have things lined up for me tonight?”
Geto Suguru smiles as he takes a bite of his own meal and slowly chews, then wipes his mouth. “Not yet, but I will by nightfall. Just enjoy your dinner and stop being horny for five minutes.”
Prince Gojo laughs. “You know I can’t do that! I don’t know why you don’t pick a girl for yourself. I see the way they look at you. They’d probably rather sleep with you than me!”
Geto shakes his head. “You bring enough drama to my life already. I don’t need romantic entanglements making it worse.”
Gojo lowers his voice. “Romance has nothing to do with it. Just unmarried adults enjoying each other’s bodies for the evening.”
“Regardless, I’ll pass for now,” Geto says. He takes another bite, swallows, then asks, “Do you still want the lady I bring to wear a mask?”
“Of course. When I’m in town looking out over my loyal subjects, I don’t want to be recognizing faces and remembering fucking their brains out.”
Gojo says it in an airy, careless way, but it’s important to him. It would be too awkward to climb out of his carriage and see a dozen faces he’s covered in his cum.
He’s been inviting ladies from town to visit him at the inn for a few years now. When he first came of age, he started going to high end brothels. But his presence in such places caused a scene every time, and he felt too exposed to try some of the more… daring activities he was interested in. The last thing he needed was a bunch of vulgar rumors going around about him.  
It had been his friend Geto’s idea to invite noble ladies to privately visit his room at the inn. Being a rich, handsome prince who is actively searching for a wife means there’s no shortage of women throwing themselves at him. But he had stipulations: no women under age twenty, no married women, and no women who were not excited to be there. 
Geto does the selecting and vetting, keeping a keen eye out for any hints of someone being pressured or coerced. If he gets even the faintest whiff of something like that going on, he shuts it down immediately. That’s why Gojo can relax and enjoy himself, even if the ladies pretend to be shy or reserved at first. 
Prince Gojo signals for the old man who owns the restaurant. “Sir, I’m ready for my dessert now!” he calls, then he gives Geto a sly grin. “At least my first dessert of the evening.”
*************************
Later that night, after you’ve cleaned the kitchen, tended the fireplace, and sewed a loose button back onto your stepsister’s coat, you finally sit down for the night and pull out a tattered old book to read. You’ve read it dozens of times, but it’s one of your favorites. 
You only make it a few pages in before your door bursts open. Your stepmother gives you a stern look and says, “Come to the kitchen. Now.”
This is somewhat unusual for her, as the woman is normally in bed by this hour. You wonder what’s going on as you walk into the kitchen behind her and find both your stepsisters sitting at the table. One of them looks upset and the other looks worried. 
Your stepmother walks over to stand behind them. She puts one hand on the shoulder of the one who looks angry. “We have a situation that needs resolving,” the older woman says, lightly rubbing her daughter’s arm. “This little fool volunteered to go see the Prince at the inn tonight.”
You feel like you’ve been punched in the chest. Your voice sounds tiny and hollow when you say, “What?”
“Obviously she’s not going,” your stepmother says, and you feel a sense of relief. 
The stepsister turns to look at her mother. “But I want to go see the Prince! He’s so handsome!”
There’s fury in her eyes as your stepmother says, “No daughter of mine is going to be a whore, even for the Prince.”
Your stepsister frowns. “I’m an adult! I can do as I please!”
“Not while you live under my roof!” your stepmother says firmly. “Now we have to do something to fix this. Changing your mind suddenly would anger the Prince, and we do not want to risk his wrath.”
Without really thinking, you speak up. “I don’t think he’s the kind of person to get angry about that.”
Your stepmother glares at you. “Stupid girl! What would you know about the Prince? He’s a man, and they’re all insatiable beasts! No, the only way to salvage this night is to send someone in my daughter’s place,” she says, looking at you pointedly. 
No. No no no. She can’t be thinking of sending you, can she? You don’t know which scenario is more horrific: your abusive stepsister being intimate with the man you’ve loved for most of your life, or you having to be intimate with him while he doesn’t know or care about you at all. You’ve never even been touched by a man before. “I can’t,” you say weakly. “Please don’t make me do this.”
Your stepsister looks between you and her mother. “You’re going to send her?! Cinderella?! That’s not fair! I want to be the one who goes!”
An outburst like that from you would have earned you at least fifty lashes, but your stepmother merely gives her a warning look and says, “Think about what you’re saying. The Prince will sully her, use her up, and then toss her aside. She’ll be forgotten by morning. Do you really want that for yourself?”
You feel tears in your eyes, and your heart is pounding wildly. Is that really what will happen? You’d rather die. You’ve dreamed of the Prince making love to you since you were a teenager with blossoming desires, but if it’s just hollow, loveless sex from his perspective… you can’t imagine anything more unbearable. 
“I won’t do it,” you say, surprising yourself. You’ll take however many lashes you have to. You can’t endure having your heart broken in such a way. 
Your stepmother looks at you with cold eyes. “You’ll do it or you’ll get out of my house. Right this minute. I’ll cut you off completely.”
You’re stunned by the threat. This is your house! You were born here, all your memories of your father are here. You sometimes go into his untouched study just to feel his lingering presence. The thought of being locked out, with nowhere to go, while these people lounge around in your family home, fills you with both sorrow and rage. 
“Alright. I’ll do it,” you say, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. 
You’re given one of your stepsister’s dresses to wear. It doesn’t fit perfectly but it looks much better than the rags you normally wear. Before dressing, you wash with rose-scented soap, fix your hair as best you can, and even dab on a bit of your stepsister’s lip color. Before leaving, you glance at the small cupboard in your room where the glass slippers are hidden in a brown cloth bag behind some books. 
Would he remember you if you wear them? Would the sight of them stir some distant hazy memory of a pitiful little girl he was nice to once? You open the cupboard and pull out the bag, clutching it in your hands. If they could make him feel anything at all for you, even just a tiny spark of nostalgic affection, maybe you could endure this. 
You carry the nondescript bag with you as you walk out the door, not wanting your stepmother to see them. There’s a carriage waiting for your stepsister outside, but you’re the one who climbs in. You change out your plain satin slippers for the ones made of glass, praying they will give you strength. 
When the carriage arrives at the inn, a guard helps you out and directs you to go inside. Your heart is like a hammer in your chest. You’re finally going to be face to face with the man you’ve longed for all these years. 
And he’s going to have no idea who you are. 
The inside of the inn is cozy, not too lavish, but clean and comfortable. There’s a welcome room, with a desk set up to accept guests. There’s a set of wooden stairs going to the upper floor, which itself creates a balcony over looking the welcome area. You can see rows of doors from down here, and you wonder which one Prince Gojo is waiting in. 
Another guard ushers you up the stairs. You walk very carefully, afraid of damaging the glass shoes. At the top, a door opens and you see the Prince’s advisor, Geto Suguru. You’ve seen him often in town, almost always by Prince Gojo’s side. He gestures for you to come inside, so you do, finding yourself in a room much larger than you expected.  There are two chairs, and Geto takes one while telling you to take the other. 
As you walk across the wooden floor, your shoes make more noise than you intended. Geto looks down at them. 
“Glass slippers? How unusual,” he says before his eyes flick upwards to study your face. “What’s your name?”
You feel a stab of panic. Should you give your stepsister’s name? Or would you get in trouble for lying? “Um, would it be alright if I use a nickname?”
“Of course.”
You swallow the lump in your throat. “Then call me Cinderella.”
He raises his eyebrows at this, but says nothing more about it. “I’d like to discuss some rules before you go to see the Prince,” he says. When you nod, he continues. “You are not to discuss anything that happens in the Prince’s room, with anyone. Even your family. The Prince has some rather… eccentric tastes, so some of the activities he engages in might seem strange or perverse. You are welcome to refuse these activities if they make you uncomfortable. If at any time you decide you don’t want to do something, simply tell him to stop, firmly and clearly. Our Prince may be a ravenous beast, but he’s still a gentleman. He will treat you as a lady and respect your wishes.”
You feel a bit of relief to hear that, though you wonder if word would somehow get back to your stepmother if you refused to sleep with the Prince.  
“Do you understand?” Geto asks, watching your face intently. 
You fidget in the chair. “Yes, I understand.”
He’s quiet for a moment, staring at you. Then, “Did you come here by your own choice?”
You look up at him in alarm. Does he know? How could he? You have to cover for yourself somehow. “I want to see the Prince,” you say, and the honest emotion in that statement gives your voice an earnest edge. 
“I see,” he says, then he stands up. He pulls something from a pouch and hands it to you. It’s a lovely silk mask in the shape of a butterfly. “The Prince insists you wear a mask to protect your own identity. It’s to help you feel less self conscious.”
You hold the mask in your hands for a moment before pulling it on, tying the ribbons behind your head to secure it. You’re not sure how you feel about it. He definitely won’t recognize you now, but there was almost zero chance of that happening anyway. 
When ready, Geto opens the door and leads you out, then to the next door over. He knocks three times, then opens the door. “Go on in,” he tells you with a charming smile.
You take a deep breath, willing your hands not to shake and your heart not to race. Then you walk into the Prince’s room, Geto behind you. 
Prince Gojo is sitting on the bed, but he stands up when you enter. Here in front of him, you can see just how tall he’s grown over the years. With a start, you realize this is the closest you’ve been to him since that day when two children held hands and danced in the woods. His face is even more beautiful up close, his eyes even more striking. And he’s wearing that same easy going smile you loved when you first met him. 
“Allow me to present Miss Cinderella,”
Geto says. 
“Cinderella? That’s a unique name,” Gojo says, those eyes you love so much looking right at you. 
“Th-thank you, Your Highness,” you say, lowering your head in a tiny bow. He spoke to you! And you spoke to him! 
Looking at the floor, you notice that the room is covered by an ornate rug. That’s why your shoes made no noise. You hope he notices them, but so far his eyes seem to be drawn to your chest and your hips. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Cinderella,” he says, looking at your eyes through the holes in your mask. “Let’s enjoy each other’s company tonight.”
You nod, too nervous to speak again. Beside you, Geto laughs breezily. “Don’t be so shy. The Prince does bite, but I’m told it feels marvelous.”
Prince Gojo frowns at him. “Suguru! Don’t say things that might give her the wrong idea!” 
Geto shrugs, then says, “I’ll take my leave now. You two have fun.”
Prince Gojo is smiling at you. “We definitely will.”
Before leaving, Geto’s eyes shift to your feet for a moment, then back to your face. He leans closer to you and says in a quiet voice, “I hope your Prince is everything you’ve dreamed of.” And then he’s gone, sweeping out of the room and shutting the door behind him.  
Now alone with the Prince, you feel your nerves becoming increasingly frayed. He steps closer to you, probably eager to begin. He’s a healthy man in his prime, after all. You’re still looking down, afraid to meet his gaze. His eyes are so piercing, they scare you. 
Suddenly you feel his hand on your face, and he gently tilts your head up so that you have to look at him. “Are you actually frightened?” he asks, the self assured grin from before gone. “Or are you just shy?”
“I’m just shy, Your Highness,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice from quivering. “I volunteered of my own accord.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says. “Now just relax, and I’ll take you to heaven.”
You blink up at him, feeling heat spread over your skin. “O-okay.”
He leans forward, and you think he might kiss you, but instead his head dips and he kisses your neck. “Take off your clothes,” he murmurs against your skin. 
You shiver at his touch, your nerves practically on fire now. He steps back to give you space, and begins unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. With a feeling of defeat, you step out of the glass slippers and sit them aside. You glance over to see that he didn’t even seem to notice them. He’s too busy pulling the belt off his pants. 
With his shirt now open, you can see his finely toned chest and abdomen. He looks like he was carved from stone. You blush furiously as your fingers fumble with the buttons and ties on the bodice of your dress. You’ve never worn it before tonight, so you’re unfamiliar with its various closures. 
Prince Gojo steps close again and helps you with the dress. You can’t help noticing that his hands seem practiced and skilled at opening women’s dresses. When he’s done, you’re left in your thin but modest slip, feeling more exposed than you’ve ever been. The fabric is white, nearly sheer, with thin straps at your shoulders. It hangs to your knees, and beneath it is only a pair of panties.  
He doesn’t remove your slip right away, perhaps giving you more time due to your shyness, but his large warm hands glide over your body as he kisses your throat again. 
You can’t keep yourself from trembling at the feel of his soft lips pressed against your skin. He draws back to look at you, at what’s visible of your face beneath the mask. His thumb traces over your red lips, painted with your stepsister’s lipstick. 
He wears the most angelic expression as he looks down into your eyes and says, “I’m gonna cum in this pretty little mouth.”
You draw in a sharp breath, your heart pounding so hard you’re certain he can hear it. Before you can say anything in response, he’s tugging your arm to pull you toward the bed, where he sits down. He spreads his thighs apart, gives you a sultry look, and says, “Kneel for your Prince.”
Part of you wants to flee from the room and never look back. But another part wants to do literally anything he says. Caught between these two urges, you ease yourself down to your knees before him. He opens his pants and reaches one hand in to pull out his stiff, hard cock. You stare at it, comparing it to all the silly daydreams you entertained over the years, trying to imagine what it looks like. Somehow, it’s even more magnificent than you pictured in your mind. Tall and pale and beautiful, like him, with a tip flushed slightly pink. It’s much bigger than you thought it would be, though it’s also the first one you’ve ever seen outside of crude drawings.
He reaches down and takes one of your hands, then pulls it to his thick shaft. Your fingers curl around it carefully, and he moves your hand up and down. “There, just like that,” he says, releasing your hand so that you’re stroking him on your own. It feels strange. You assumed a cock would be a bit more delicate. You’d seen boys fall over in pain if they were hit there, after all. But Prince Gojo’s is sturdy, firm, strong. You notice the tip is glistening, and you lean forward slightly to get a better look. 
“Why don’t you have a taste?” he asks, staring down at you, a casual smile on his lips. 
Your eyes shift nervously from his beautiful face to his leaking cock. You lick the edges of your lips, forgetting the lipstick you’re not used to wearing. Then you extend your tongue and flick it lightly over his tip, smearing some of the clear fluid. It tastes different from what you expected. Not bad or gross at all. It simply tastes like him. You give another feathery lick, then another, and then you feel his hand on your head, patting it. 
“You’re adorable,” he says, smiling sweetly at you. “Now open wide and take my cock down your throat.”
You flinch at the words. Hearing such vulgar things being said in his lovely, pleasant voice is making your head spin. But you do as you’re told, opening your mouth widely. And as he pulls your head forward, you feel his hard cock slide between your lips and rest on your tongue. 
Yet another act you imagined countless times. And now, you have the cock of the man you love in your mouth, so instinct takes over. Your tongue moves, licking the meaty shaft and drenching it in your saliva, helping it to ease further in. Your lips finally reach the base, creating a red ring there as you struggle to breathe through your nose. He fills your whole mouth, and much of your throat. It’s uncomfortable, but you’ve dreamed of having him in your mouth for so long, you don’t mind the ache. 
You feel confused as you begin bobbing your head, moving up and down his length with your lips. The Prince you’ve longed for is using your mouth for his own pleasure, not really caring who you are. But this is your only chance to touch him, to taste him. Should you just let go of your romantic dreams and let yourself enjoy the physical sensations? Can you even separate the two? 
After a while, Prince Gojo takes hold of your hair and pulls your head back, not harshly but firmly. “Mouth open, tongue out,” he says, “and don’t spill any, Cinderella.”
On your knees in front of him, you open your lips and let your tongue hang partially out of your mouth as you look up at him. Your lips are quivering, your eyes glassy, as he strokes himself a few more times before shooting ropes of sticky cum onto your tongue. Most of it slides into your open mouth, but some drip down your chin. Reflexively, you catch some of it with your fingers and lick them clean. 
This cum is precious to you. It’s proof you pleased him, and it comes from your beloved. You feel the need to savor it. You glance up to find the Prince staring at you with slightly widened eyes, lips parted, a pink tint to his face as he watches you enjoy his seed. 
For a moment he doesn’t say a word, seeming almost transfixed, but then he laughs and says, “Oh no, you spilled a few drops. Looks like you disobeyed your Prince! How shall I punish you?”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” you tell him, still licking your lips to gather any cum you missed. 
He stands up, then helps you to your feet. “To start with, let’s get rid of this,” he says, sliding your slip up your body and over your head. His eyes move to your bare breasts, making you blush again, but then he reaches forward and pulls your panties down to your ankles. You step out of them somewhat clumsily, trying to keep your legs together. 
Taking his seat on the bed again, the Prince takes a moment to look you up and down. Your face is burning with embarrassment. The Prince is seeing every inch of you! 
After a moment, he takes hold of your arm and pulls you toward him. He’s still wearing his unbuttoned shirt and his pants, making you feel even more exposed. You allow him to move and maneuver your body however he wants, and soon you’re in the most humiliating position of your life: lying face down, your naked body draped across his lap.
He pulls your wrists together behind your back, holding them in place with just one hand while his other hand rubs over your ass. When he squeezes the flesh there, you give a tiny squeak of surprise. You can’t see his face from this position, but you hear him laugh. It’s a sound you’ve always adored. Then you hear his smooth voice, a little deeper than usual, say, “So cute and helpless. So many things I could do to you.”
The words make you squirm a little in his lap, and to your horror you realize you’re wet. You can feel a slickness between your thighs, and you pray he doesn’t notice. 
His hand leaves your ass, and then suddenly comes back down in a slap that makes you yelp and jerk. His other hand is still firmly holding your wrists, so you’re still in position as his hand comes down again, making a loud sound that reverberates around the room. 
It doesn’t really hurt, just a bit of a sting. You have plenty of experience being hit by someone who actually wants to hurt you, so you can tell the difference right away. No, what makes this so bad is the embarrassment, the vulnerable position, and the fact that you can feel your arousal smearing all over your thighs. Should you tell him to stop? He would, you know that. But your heart is so conflicted. You want to be with him, in any capacity, but simply being used this way is emotionally damaging. 
He gives a few more slaps to your ass, then rubs it again. When his hand slides down between your legs and his fingers reach the wetness there, you freeze, going still as a statue, barely even breathing. You feel his fingers part the damp flesh and then stroke the sensitive little nub inside.
“Ahhh!” You let out a shameful cry, trying to jerk away from him, but he’s still holding you in place. 
He withdraws his hand. “You’re drenched, Cinderella. Do you like being at my mercy? Restrained and helpless?”
Your mind races. Do you enjoy it? Of all the scenarios you imagined with Prince Gojo, this one was never part of it. But you can’t deny the thrill of being held down by him.
He gives another slap, and you cry out again. There’s a pause, where he doesn’t move or say anything, then his hand releases your wrists. You feel him rub gently over one of your arms, and remember the welts covering them. 
Suddenly he turns you over in his lap and pulls the both of you up. “Let’s do something else,” he says, for the first time seeming a tiny bit awkward. He directs you to lie down on your back while he pulls off his shirt and pants, finally standing fully nude in front of you. 
It’s a glorious sight. Every single inch of him is truly beautiful. His clothes had made him seem thinner than he actually is, and now you can see the taut muscles along his arms and torso. He notices you staring, and grins. 
You blush and look away, but it does you no good. In the next second he’s climbing onto the bed and pushing your legs widely apart. You gasp in surprise, mortified, but as he stares down at your dripping, bare pussy, there’s a hunger in his eyes. 
“I told you I’d take you to heaven, remember?” he asks, and then his head lowers, and you feel his lips on your delicate flesh. 
Your body jolts, but he has his arms around your thighs, holding them apart while his fingers open your folds. His tongue glides over your swollen clit, coating it in his saliva. You begin to tremble, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as his lips close around the little bundle of nerves, suckling gently. He pulls away, only to press his tongue inside you as his thumb rubs circles into your clit. 
You cry out, over and over, your back arching off the bed. You love him so much! And he’s bringing you such pleasure! You think your heart might burst. 
Something is going to burst. You feel something building, like pressure inside your core. His thumb is relentless, becoming more aggressive as his tongue gathers your wetness and slurps it into his mouth. You’re so sensitive, the stimulation almost hurts. 
But he keeps going, his thumb only moving faster, applying more pressure, until finally the dam breaks. Pleasure washes over you like a flood, your body twitches and shakes, and Prince Gojo’s thumb slows to languid, soft motions while you ride out your first orgasm. 
You’re left panting, dizzy, your skin flushed and dewy. You look up to see the Prince raised up on his knees, staring down at your spread open body, licking his thumb. 
If you can burn one image from this night into your memory forever, this is it. He’s never been more gorgeous. But then your eyes move down and you see that he’s fully erect again, his cock somehow looking even bigger than before. 
He slips his hands under your ass and lifts your hips from the bed, pulling you to him. You almost panic. You almost tell him to stop. You wanted your first time to be with the Prince. But you wanted it to be romantic, full of love. Now, he’s about to take your virginity, but he doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even know your name. 
You close your eyes, deciding to let it happen. You suppose you should consider yourself lucky to be deflowered by the man you love. 
You feel him push into you, slowly, and you’re shocked by how deep he goes. You feel yourself stretching, maybe even ripping, as a small amount of warm fluid, probably blood, leaks out around his cock. He’s clearly trying to be careful, but he’s just too big, and his fast breathing indicates he’s having a hard time holding himself back. 
You feel his hand on your face. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice strained. You nod, then you hear him say, “Look at me.”
You open your eyes, only to be met with his stunning eyes boring into you. “I’m gonna start moving, okay?”
“… okay,” you say in a tiny voice, feeling like a small prey animal beneath a giant wolf. 
He begins thrusting then, slowly at first but going so very deep. At some point he picks up speed, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Soon he’s practically slamming into you, grunting each time his cock buries itself to the hilt in your aching pussy. 
You feel so many emotions, you can barely make sense of them. 
The man you’ve loved for so long is inside you! 
He doesn’t care about you at all. 
He’s enjoying your body, you make him feel good! 
He’s done this with countless other women. 
He made your body come alive with pleasure! 
He’s being too rough with you. 
That roughness, that pain, is somehow turning you on. You’re practically gushing as he pounds into you! Your body is as confused as your heart. You can’t even tell what hurts or feels good anymore. Then you realize with some alarm: you don’t care. You don’t care if he hurts you. You only want to feel him. 
Completely overwhelmed, you feel tears flood your eyes, and you can only hope the mask hides your face enough, that you can hold back your sobs, so that Prince Gojo doesn’t realize how you feel. 
***********************
Prince Gojo grunts when he feels Cinderella clench his cock tightly, like her pussy doesn’t want to let him go. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this riled up. 
At first, he thought she was just putting on a shy act to tantalize him, but when he thrust into her for the first time he realized she was a virgin. Probably not an act then. 
That probably should have concerned him, but she’s so wet and so tight, the little moans and cries she makes are so sweet, that he’s losing control of himself inside her. 
He hasn’t missed the way she looks at him, even through the mask he can see there’s something beyond the usual admiration or shallow crush on a popular figure. And the way she licked up his cum as if it were her last meal… he literally felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 
And so he shoves into her as deeply as possible, loving the feel of her around him, and when he looks down at her face again, he realizes she’s crying. Tears are dripping down her cheeks, under the mask, and her body is shaking. It’s almost enough to make him stop. Almost. 
Instead he leans down over her, pulling her upper body up and into his arms, cradling her. “You’re so pretty,” he says in his softest voice. “You feel so good. You’re taking my cock so deep…”
She sniffles, burying her face in his shoulder, her hands clutching his arms. Then he hears her voice, so quiet yet so clear, say, “Satoru…!”
He freezes, his eyes wide. Her face is hidden from him, but he heard her clearly. None of the women who visit him at the inn have ever called him by his first name. It’s always “Your Highness”, or if they’re the bold type, “Prince Gojo”. 
But the way she said it, as if it was natural to her, surprised him. His name, a personal, intimate thing for him, reserved only for those closest to him, spilled from her soft ruby lips like a prayer. The sound of it, somehow familiar, sent a shiver rippling through his body. 
He pushes in deeper, his fingers digging into her skin, and she cries out, clenching him even tighter. Her whole body quivers as she cums again, little sobs wracking her form. The feel of it is enough to push him to his own climax, and with a groan of pleasure he cums, realizing a moment too late that he came inside her instead of pulling out. 
He holds her as they both come down from their shared high, her warm walls still clamped around his throbbing cock. After a long while, much longer than with any other woman, Gojo separates from her and they both get up from the bed. 
They both dress in silence. He’s usually chatty at times like this, but his mind is elsewhere, still in those moments when he was inside her, when she said his name. 
He glances over to find her back in her dress. She reaches up toward her mask, probably to remove it and wipe her eyes, but he stops her. 
“Don’t take it off until you’re out of the room,” he says, though part of him wants to rip it off immediately. 
She looks at him then, and gives a small, uncomfortable smile. “Of course, I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
“This way is better for both of us,” he tells her, though he feels conflicted. He wants to ask her name, her real name, but that would defeat the purpose of the mask. Instead he says nothing as she gives a small bow and leaves the room. 
Gojo flops across the bed and sighs, his thoughts still full of Cinderella. After a moment, he notices a sound coming from outside his room. Perhaps on the stairs?
Click, click, click. 
Over and over. The sound calls to him. He stands up and crosses to his door, opening it slowly and listening. 
Click, click, click. 
What is that? It stops, then starts again but softer. He walks out and looks over the railing, down to the first floor. Cinderella is walking toward the door. The light glints off something on her feet, and he focuses on her shoes. 
Are those… glass slippers?!
It can’t be! 
Suddenly everything snaps into place. The familiar welts on her arms. The way she looked at him as if she knew him. The way she called him by his first name. 
The way tears spilled from her eyes. 
It’s her! The girl he’s been waiting for all these years! 
He runs toward the stairs, shouting, “Wait!” but she’s already going through the door. 
By the time he runs down the steps and flings the door open, she’s gone. He looks both directions on the street, but it’s dark, and there are still crowds of people moving about. She’s nowhere to be seen. 
Cinderella has vanished into the night. 
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leafington · 23 hours
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𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝘆! 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗺𝗲!
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content warning !! - penetration, heavy mentions of breeding/knocking up etc, creampie, ZERO protection, pregnancy, reader is on contraceptives but is implied they stopped, overstimulation, mating press, mommy kink(???), gn!reader but has female parts, cervix kissing
MEN WHO love watching the sight of his seed seeping out of your hole in all its glory. You're prescribed birth control but you still ask if he pulled out because you have zero clue after the mind-blowing experience of rough-affectionate pounding into your cunt that was just enough to knock the knowledge out of you. He grunts out a "yes", knowing damn well your entrance is overflowing—a pornographic sight if you will—filled of his cum. And by god does it look good like that.
MEN WHO relish and gush at the idea of having you nice and round with his kids, so it's become a recurring routine for him to make at least some attempt to watch the loaded white essence drip out of your pussy. Condom? Never heard of it. It'll come off mid-session, break due to his brutal thrusts where his tip is abusing the edge of your cervix, or he won't even wear one at all (with permission of course).
"Please baby, gotta fill you up so good." He groans, flicking at your clit after your third? fourth? orgasm, you're not quite sure. You whine in response, you're too tired to go again, but the ache between your legs are contradicting your own wishes. "Wanna make you a mommy, that okay? Just this once? One more time." He's already fucking his fist, basking in the feeling of your slick on both his hand and dick.
Oh what the hell. It won't kill you, and besides, his cock looks way too pretty for it to not be pistoling in you right now. With the last bit of remaining dignity, you mew out a small "Yes please.", and he gets right to work. Legs over your chest and on his shoulders.
It's just a matter of time before MEN WHO fuck you with full intentions of knocking you up get ahead in buying all sorts of parenting books, looking at baby items, etc. It's not his fault! You'd just look so good chasing after miniature versions of the two of you.
Before you knew it, you're surprising your husband on father's day with a fake reciept made with the help of your mother reading "Newborn baby x1", he's more than just happy, now he's got something else to care for the rest of his life.
The entire journey consists of him watching over you like a hawk, carrying all things over ten lbs, massaging your swollen ankles and feet. He doesn't complain at all when you hit him with your strangest cravings! Nine months later, you're greeting your beautiful baby girl into the world! He insists on you holding the baby first, you've done all the work so he thinks you deserve to enjoy the first few moments of this new life with your daughter.
When it's time to leave, MEN WHO helped pack your hospital bag prior to this are carrying that and doing the dad walk out of the maternity ward.
He's an amazing father too, the little girl's got him wrapped around her finger at just a few weeks old. You'll get up to pee and find your sleepy husband and fussy daughter in the kitchen as he preps a bottle for her, he hates when you wake up in the middle of the night to take care of her when he can just do it himself.
Once your husband is back to work in the office, he feels like he's missing so much of his baby girl's life! Lifting her head? He got called in. Rolling over? Night shift. Crawling? Overtime. Saying 'dada' as her first word? On a business trip. (He was beyond pissed about it.)
After your tired, clingy, and... needy husband returns. He's snaking his hands up your nightgown, buttering you up in compliments while praising you for being such a great mom to his daughter and him. Rambling about how you guys' little girl has grown up so fast and pouting over how much important milestones he wasn't there for. "How about another one, hm? Get you all round and swole again one last time." And while his words shocked you, you weren't exactly opposed to the idea.
MEN WHO have a breeding kink.
— ukai, akaashi, makki, hear me out.... ERWIN., nanami tbh (my office sirens), ayato, wriothesley (was picturing him doing the dad walk no joke), dainsleif, jean kristein, geto :((, + ur favs <3
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©2024 leafington dont steal please!! :)
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abiatackerman · 3 days
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Everything for peace, for humanity
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Warnings: Angst
"You look.... Nice."
You smile sadly as you watch Levi in his wedding suit.
"You'll scare the guests off if you're gonna keep that scowl on your face. Try to smile. It's your wedding day. Don't ruin your soon to be wife's day at least."
You say as Levi’s eyes flicker to meet yours, his usual stoic expression unwavering. That is a look you know all too well. Still, you know you are right, he has to at least try to look the slightest bit happy, even if he clearly doesn’t want to.
"I actually didn't want to come here today... To your wedding."
You chuckle as you speak even though your heart is bleeding.
"But we're colleagues, we've been working together for a long time. As a member of the Survey Corps, I had to come."
You smile as you look at him dreamily, leaning on the door.
Oh how bad you imagined that how he would look on his wedding day. You knew he would look handsome. And he's looking handsome too. More than you imagined.
But the difference is he's marrying a beautiful girl from a powerful family of Marley instead of you. To make a truce between the Paradise island and Marley.
For peace. For humanity.
Levi slowly takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes fixed firmly on yours, his voice is low and rough.
"And yet, you still came here."
The sight of you leaning against the door, smiling at him with that look in your eyes, is too much to handle. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest, a feeling he knows all too well.
"I just wanted to see the grumpy-rude-scary captain, who is known as humanity's strongest soldier, to get married."
You say still smiling as your eyes tears up.
"Anyway... You didn't want me to come?"
You say blinking your eyes as Levi’s expression hardens. At the sight of the tears beginning to form in your eyes, his jaw tightens. He can practically feel his heart beginning to crack.
He can’t stand the sight, nor can't he stand the thought of you thinking he didn’t want you here. Which is true... He didn’t want you to be here. It hurts to see you.
"Of course I don’t want you here."
He says, his voice is cold, harsh. You chuckle sadly.
"Don't worry, I'll leave before you get married then. I was just hoping to see you in your wedding dress actually. I wanted to take a peek at you."
You try to sound funny like you always used to. You point at his tie.
"You're used to wearing cravats. You shouldn't be wearing a tie. Look, it's messed up."
Levi’s eyes flicker down to look at the messed up tie, the tie that his fiancé and her family had insisted he wear for the occasion. He hates it. He hates the way it feels around his neck, he hates the way it looks like it is being strangled around his throat, he hates to wear it. He lets out a quiet scoff.
"I’d much prefer to wear a damn cravat but apparently this is what she wanted."
You feel jealousy hitting you like a brick of a truck. You never once told Levi to change his appearance or anything just because you thought he'd look good in that way. You never wanted him to change. Now he's already changing himself for another girl... Who's not you?
"You should have told her to teach you how to wear it then. It's messed up."
You say in a jealous tone as Levi's chest aches in response. He knows this is difficult for you, he knows you are unhappy with his decision, but what can he do? The deal had already been done. There is no going back now.
Everything is for peace. For humanity.
"She did teach me, but it doesn’t matter."
He says, his voice comes out as a grumble as he undoes the tie, tossing it on the nearby desk instead.
"I hate these damn things. Stupid useless pieces of fabric."
You smile softly hearing his curses.
You'll miss it. You'll miss his grumpy behaviours, his rude-insulting words... His glare to the every male cadet who wanted to be close with you. His scent, kisses, touches, bites, thrusts, whispers, "I love you"s.... Calling you doll, Y/N, brat...
You'll miss him... Everything about him.
"I have one final request."
You clear your throat to prevent your voice from cracking and speak professionally.
"And that is?"
Levi looks at you, his expression is cold and stoic as usual but his eyes are filled with pain.
A part of him is selfishly happy to see you suffering, the other part of him wants to pull you into his arms and never let you go, to tell you that he wants you, he loves you. But that isn’t something he can't do now. He has to watch you walk away.
"I want to be your child's godmother. And I want your wife to be my patient when she gets pregnant. I want to be the doctor and the first person who'll pull your child out of your wife's ovary into this world."
You say calmly as Levi’s eyes widened. Not only do you want to be the godmother of his child with another woman who isn’t you, but also you do want to be the one to deliver his child.
A pained expression crosses his face as he realizes what you are asking for. He takes a step towards you, his eyes searching your face.
"You’re asking me... To let you witness me having a happy family... With another woman?"
You roll your eyes, desperately trying to stop your tears from falling.
"I just want to see your kids growing up and want to be the first person who'll see your kid's face. That's it."
Levi is silent for a few moments, his eyes never leaving your face. Despite how badly he wants to lash out, to be angry, he can’t. The way you are looking at him, the raw emotions behind your words... He can’t be angry at you. With a sigh, he takes another step closer to you and slowly reaches out and grabs your waist, pulling you closer.
"You’re masochistic. You know that?"
You pull yourself back from him, pushing his hand away.
"The last thing I want you to be a cheater, Levi."
You say with a soft tone as you look up to him. Levi’s eyes flicker over your face as you pull his hand away from you, his fingers slightly curled as he tries to reach out for you but manages to restrain himself. He wants to reach out for you, to take you back into his arms but he knows he isn’t allowed.
"Watching me raise a family, watch another woman have my children, you truly want to subject yourself to that kind of torture?"
He tries to keep his expression neutral, but the coldness of his eyes fades slightly. You shake your head.
"No... It definitely won't be painful for me to watch your kids growing up."
You smile softly looking up at the ceiling as you lean on the door completely.
"I just want to be a part of their life. That's it. Though it totally depends on you to accept my request."
Levi’s gaze softens slightly at your response, his eyes watching as you look up to the ceiling, he wants to reach out for you, to grab you and pull you into his arms, to lean his head down and press kisses along your neck and whisper soothing words in your ear.
But he can't....
He lets out a soft sigh, his expression darkens again as he spoke.
"Of course it depends on me to accept your request, you idiot. And you’re crazy if you think I’m going to say yes to you basically being the third wheel in my family."
You feel his words stabbing your bleeding heart making you hurt more. Bleed more. Third wheel? Your face twitches at his insults.
"Ok... As you wish."
You smile fakely as you open the door.
"Congratulations to your marriage, Levi Ackerman. I hope you'll have a happy life."
You say smiling softly as you take your last look at him again. Last look at him as "Your Levi" And everything starts to flash in front of your eyes.
Your first meeting, funny fights, him saving you from death, you treating his wounds, your first kiss, first confession, first time making love, the amazing time you two have spent with each other.
Tears start to fall on your cheeks as you close the door slowly. You sigh as you start to walk away with heavy breaths.
But if you would have looked back once again.... Maybe you could have seen the drop of tear falling from his dry eyes.
Just like you, he's not happy with his marriage. He never will.
But both of you are the previous members of the survey corps. You guys know very well what the pain of sacrifices is... You all have sacrificed a lot. And that's why neither Levi or you opposed to this marriage.
Because humanity means everything to you. If peace will be ensured by sacrificing love... You both will gladly accept that. No matter how much that's gonna hurt you both.
Everything is for peace.... For humanity...
Masterlist
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pupyuj · 10 hours
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The nation needs more Older G!P Stepsister Yujin 🗣🗣🗣
i actually don’t remember if i’ve written stepcest w yuj before and if i have it must’ve been forever ego so here’s a little food for ya’ll, courtesy of vexie 💕
annoying older stepsis yuj x spiteful bratty younger stepsis reader… well yes! 🥴 you and yujin hating each other the moment you met 😭 only playing nice when your dad and her mom are around bcs they want nothing more than to see their daughters getting along despite this odd situation they’ve put the two of you in ☹️ but as soon as they leave for work… yujin would spend the entire day annoying you, pulling pranks, insulting you, and sometimes even slutshaming you bcs she knows about your reputation in your university… which just so happens to be her own university’s nemesis in terms of sports (since she plays for her uni’s women’s soccer team and all) 🤓☝️ but sometimes you get the upper hand! there are days where yujin is too exhausted to bother you, merely giving you a dirty look before dissolving into the soft couches and watching her favorite shows for hours on end… and that was where you got the wicked idea to play into this whorish reputation your fellow schoolmates have given you!
see, ahn yujin may be to worst thing that has ever happened to you but she also just so happens to be criminally attractive so as messed up as it was, considering that you’re technically family, you were super into her! bcs come on! pretty, tall, hits the gym regularly, and is also very obviously interested bcs she was never at all subtle when staring at your ass while you walk around the house?? yujinnie was basically asking you to seduce her.. and that you did! coming down from the stairs wearing the nastiest pair of booty shorts and a thin tank top that you owned and having to hold back a triumphant smirk when you spotted yujin physically perking up at the sight of you… like a puppy that was eyeing her newest toy 🤭
gosh you did every cliche seducing tactics in that living room it was almost embarrassing 😭 bending over at the right angle for yujin to stare at your ass while you take the remote control from the coffee table, making sure that you have to walk in front of her before sitting down on the empty spot beside her, letting one strap of your tank top to fall down your arm and making sure your top was loose enough for yujin to see the slightest bit of your tits… well, suffice to say you were successful! and you knew bcs yujin immediately put a pillow on her lap to cover up her crotch as soon as she felt her jeans tightening up 🫣🫣 you would’ve loved to tease her more since it felt so so good being the one who was doing the tormenting for once but you were just a girl! you needed your holes filled and yujin had the right tool for that!
she was hogging a bowl of popcorn allll the way to her other side so you had to reach over just to steal a few, and ofc you didn’t miss the way yujin’s eyes flickered down from you lips to your breasts,, she immediately looks away though! swallowing hard and pretending like she’s not at all bothered 🤭 on a normal day where you weren’t dressed like a common whore she would actually argue with you over getting your own damn bowl of popcorn but not today! she was now thinking with her dick and you couldn’t fucking wait to make fun of her about it 😝 tomorrow. after she’s done breeding you tonight 😋
“being called a slut in campus not good enough for you? you have to look like this at home too?” yujin asks just to get some sort of control over the situation but it was too late 🥺🥺 sitting closer, blinking your eyes with faux innocence and saying, “seems like you like it though. don’t you, unnie?” well fuck! you never call yujin ‘unnie’ unless you’re talking with your parents and in this situation, there was nothing pure about the way you said it so yujin was just a fucking mess 😭 she doesn’t know what to do with herself! you almost pitied her—you just knew that her poor cock was begging to be free from her jeans… and ofc you promised your dad that you would be a good stepsister to your yujin-unnie and you wouldn’t dare break that promise! 🫢 putting the bowl of popcorn away and having to rip off that damn pillow from her lap, you straddled yujin and… well, the rest, as they say, is history! 🫣
one minute the two of you were messily making out and touching each other everywhere with clumsy hands and the next she has completely (and literally) ripped your tank top and pulled your shorts off, pinning you down the couch and what surprised you was how yujin didn’t even bother to take your panties off… she decided that the pair looked way too good on your skin so she merely pulled it to the side before ramming her cock inside you, and now both of you were thinking about nothing but each other! 🤗💕 thank goodness your parents were not home and your neighbors on either side as well as across were away bcs the two of you were so fucking loud and the curtains were not at all closed!! like fuck, it’s almost as if the two of you jumped straight out of a porn video 😭
one would think that people who hate each other as much as the two of you did would be cursing the other even at this moment where you were fucking like rabid animals but nope! both of you were too lost in pleasure to have anything that ain’t moans leave your mouths 🤭 it only drove yujin even more crazy when you wrapped your legs around her waist, encouraging her to fuck your harder… the wet noises of skin slapping against skin pushing you closer and closer to your climax… yujinnie’s bites and little whines making you fucking wish that your parents get home late bcs fuck, you need to hear more of her like this! 🥴
it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum.. but what bothrred you is that yujin fucking pulled out! however, she does notice your annoyance… way after she has spilled every drop of her cum on your stomach and thighs.. “later.. in my room… i have condoms.” poor baby was too tired to even speak! 🥺 “no, idiot. don’t wrap it up. fucking cum inside me.” you demanded 😭 ofc yujinnie folds bcs who was she to deny a pretty girl of her seed, yk!? “fine! but don’t fucking cry to me if you get pregnant.” oh she was pissed at being pushed around but literally the next second she rests her head on your chest and snuggles into you for warmth ☹️💞💞
when your parents came home, they spotted the two of you cocooned into a warm blanket in the couch as you watched a fun movie together, cuddling like the sweet ‘sisters’ they always saw the two of you as 🫢 but as soon as they busied themselves in the kitchen, your hand slides inside yujin’s boxers and her own cups your ass… nothing innocent about the two of you at all 😭
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99woez · 2 days
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crush ᰔᩚ l.sh
warnings. smut, best friend!sohee, childhood best friends to lovers, oral (fem receiving), making out, ethel cain inspired so obviously mentions of cannibalism as a metaphor for love, no actual cannibalism lmao, mentions of poverty. heavily inspired by "crush" by ethel cain. i think that's it but if i missed something please let me know! enjoy <3
part one || part two
wc. 4.4k
summary. the only escape from this deadbeat town is your best friend, lee sohee.
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“You know, my brother was the valedictorian.”
“Yeah, your mom yells at you about it all the time,” You deadpan, eyes shut behind your heart-shaped sunglasses as you lay out in Sohee’s backyard. One thing about Sohee’s mother is she didn’t give a damn about who was around; she was going to remind Sohee he should be more like his brother. She was a rough woman, but you figured she had to be with a husband on death row. She raised two boys alone in this good-for-nothing town you so desperately wanted to get out of but were trapped in. Like a fly stuck in the sticky yellow paper curling up in the corners of Sohee’s kitchen, you think with a huff as the sun beats down on your skin, leaving it hot to the touch.
Sohee looks down at you and pushes out a chuckle.
“She does yell about that a lot.” It sounds like he’s never thought about it before. He probably hasn’t. Sohee was an optimist, kind, and smart despite thinking he was not. He could’ve gotten better grades in school if he tried harder––That was his problem. He was a people pleaser and started pleasing the wrong people. His friends moved dope, so Sohee did as well despite never trying a drug in his life, even to this day. 
“You going to the Pecan Festival?” Sohee asks after a passing moment of silence. You open your eyes at the mention of the event. There were very few things to look forward to in this town: The flea market, the Wet Leaf ball you and Sohee were too poor to get invited to, and the Pecan Festival. Everything else fun was a trip out of town on a highway you’ve grown fond of. Still, you love the Peacan Festival. You’ve been going since you were little. Tickets were cheap, the food was greasy, and the rides looked like they failed several safety tests but you loved it. It was one of the few things that kept you here.
Besides Sohee, of course.
You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at Sohee, tipping your head down so he can see your eyes over the thick red rims of your sunglasses. He smiles softly when he see your eyes, a crooked smile that only he possesses and makes your heart stutter a bit. There’s no one like Sohee, you think as you feel your own lips begin to turn upwards in a smile of their own.
“Of course I am,” You quip, “I was the Pecan Princess, you know?”
Sohee laughs at that, head tipping back as his laughter fills the sky.
“Yeah, when you were, like, ten. You’re too old to be a princess now.”
Your jaw drops in faux offense, putting your hand over your heart.
“Well, if I’m not a princess, what am I, Sohee? An old hag?”
“You’re a queen. Real royalty,” He jokes, making you click your tongue at his poor attempts of flirting, rolling your eyes. Sohee inhales sharply through his teeth, turning his face away from you when he realizes the joke didn’t land like he wanted to, embarrassed chuckles leaving his lips as his cheeks get even more pink.
You still smile at him despite his flubbed joke, reaching out and pinching his warm cheek. He squeezes his eyes shut with a whine but doesn’t move away from your touch, making you coo playfully.
“Come on, jester. You’re going to get a heat stroke,” You tease as you push yourself to your feet with a grunt. Sohee lingers in the dying grass for a moment, looking up at you for a beat too long. You put your hands on your hips, raising your brows at him to silently tell him to hurry his ass up. He takes the silent command with a sigh, pushing himself up to his feet and nodding towards his small house.
“Mama has lemonade in the fridge.” 
“Did she make it, or was it store-bought?”
“Made it, of course. You know she’s scared of artificial sugars,” Sohee reminds you as he opens the screen door that hollers when it’s pulled open, then pulls hard on the actual door into his rickety old house to open it for you. You do a small skip at that news. As crazy as she may be, Sohee’s mom could tear it up in the kitchen if she wanted to. Most of the time, she didn’t want to and left the cooking to Sohee. He’s become a better cook over the years, but there was a time when you were over every night either cooking him dinner or making sure he didn’t burn the house down.
You sip the perfectly tart yet sweet yellow liquid through a red and white striped paper straw, sitting in the corner of the green velvet couch in Sohee’s living room as he begins flipping through the channels from the other side of the couch. The sounds of the channels blend in a dull symphony as you look at the white front door with a slight hum.
“When does your mama come home?” You ask, turning your attention to Sohee’s side profile as he shrugs.
“Late. She has a night shift.”
“Think I can spend the night?” You wonder casually before taking another sip of lemonade. Sleepovers were common between the two of you. You’ve been having them since you were kids though when you were younger, you would sleep in separate sleeping bags in the living room. His sleeping bag was big and green, like a soldier, he would say, and yours purple and had a faded picture of Cinderella on the front. The memories are fond. You always smile when you remember how long Sohee has been in your life.
Sohee shrugs again, turning to look at you as he pauses his channel search. It’s on some local channel; a woman with too much lipstick on talks excitedly to a sunburnt man about the Pecan Festival, but you barely hear her. You’re too busy focusing on Sohee as you wrap your lips around your straw again and sip down the final sips of your drink.
“Don’t see why not,” Sohee says softly, big brown eyes flicking to your lips and then back in your eyes. You watch as he dampens his lips by sticking his tongue out just slightly, causing heat to spread throughout your chest. You have to turn your gaze away from him, watching the TV with a knowing smirk. You shake your cup to jiggle the ice cubes inside it around before reaching in and plopping a cube into your mouth, keeping you preoccupied.
You can feel Sohee’s gaze on your profile for a few moments too long before he turns back towards the TV, awkwardly clearing his throat and shifting in his seat.
“Are we going to-”
“Do what we did last time?” You finish for him, shaking your cup again as you crunch down on the hard ice cube in your mouth, cooling your body down instantly. Sohee’s gaze is back on the side of your face, but it’s more intense now, making your heart beat faster. You play it cool. You always play it cool with Sohee, which isn’t hard to do since Sohee is so easy to please more often than not.
“We can,” You hum, looking at the boy beside you with a sly smirk as he stares at you with the biggest, most desperate eyes you’ve ever seen. You pout playfully at him, reaching out and grazing his cheek with the back of your fingers. “You want me to suck your dick again, pretty boy?” You ask as if you’re asking what he wants for dinner, grabbing his chin gently and shaking his face barely. 
You didn’t mean to suck Sohee off––You swear, it just happened. He was the one to bring up how he still hasn’t fucked anyone, droning on and on about how he craves to be touched by someone, anyone, at this point. You were just doing him a favor. It didn’t mean anything.
But the kiss you shared most certainly did. You haven’t stopped thinking about kissing Sohee since it happened, your gaze lingering on his lips longer than they should during conversations, or your hand working yourself to an orgasm, thinking of how good his soft lips would feel wrapped around your clit. You have to contain yourself to not bite your lip at the thought of leaning in and kissing him right now. You don’t dare look at his lips, knowing you’ll lose self-control if you do.
Sohee inhales deeply through his nose, watching your face closely, eyes trained on your lips as he wets his again. He nods before giving a nonchalant shrug. You notice the tips of his ears are already red. He’s so cute.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind. ‘Totally wouldn’t say no,” He laughs, making you smile and inch towards him. Sohee leans back slightly, making you pull back, but he shakes his head. “I just…You know, that’s not all I care about, right? Like, it’d be cool to do all that with you, but I don't…We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. We’re friends before anything. Always.” 
Then his pinky is out between the two of you. You look down at his hand, chuckling softly before looking back at his face. You never thought otherwise, but you suppose it’s sweet. Sohee wanted to assure you of that. Again, you know Sohee and know yourself at this point, so you didn’t need the assurance that he wasn’t using you as a fleshlight.
You hook your pinky with his, shaking his hand firmly with a smile.
“Always.”
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Sohee’s room is such a wreck.
He climbs on his bed, lying across it to push open his window just enough to let some air in. The AC unit in his room blew out about a month ago when the heat started to kick in. It was only a matter of time. The thing had been running since Sohee was three. You’re shocked it lasted this long. You go to the white box fan in the corner of his room, sitting on a chair as you click it onto the highest setting. The hum instantly fills the once-still room, and warm air circulates throughout the stuffy room.
Sohee sits up on his bed, leaning his back against the wall his bed was against with a hand behind his head to act as a cushion. His big brown eyes watch as you go to his dresser, opening it to dig for your favorite shirt of his. You can feel his eyes on your back as you shuffle through his drawer, making you smile faintly. You always liked having Sohee’s attention, but having him look at you like he wanted to eat you whole was a new kind of rush. You craved it more than you had for any other boy in your life.
There were only two before Sohee if you’re being honest. This town didn’t have the best selection of men to pick from. First, there was Wonbin, your first boyfriend. He was beautiful, stunning, striking even, with pretty long black hair and a nose you memorized the shape of a thousand times over. You suppose you loved him and his gentle ways but always wanted more from him. It’s not like it mattered; you two broke up a week after graduation when he was accepted into Yale. You don’t exactly blame him. He was going to fucking Yale, and you were going to the community college in the neighboring town. You hope he’s well.
Then there was Eunseok. You’re shocked you remember his name. After you two met in a bar, he was a hook-up in the back of his car under the underpass. He was driving through on “business,” at least that’s what he told you. Easily, it was the best sex you’d ever had. He was way more experienced than Wonbin had been and rougher. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. You had to appreciate that about him. Plus, he was gorgeous. You still follow him on Instagram just to never forget what he looked like.
And now, there’s Sohee, and Sohee is so different from the first two. You know it, he knows it, everyone knows it, but no one says it. 
His eyes are still trained on your back, practically burning holes into your skin as you slowly peel your own shirt off and over your head. You let a beat pass to feel his gaze on you a few more seconds before you pull his shirt over your head and let it drape over your frame. You hear him clear his throat, causing you to turn around to face him with a kind smile and tilt of your head. He blinks at you with a crooked smile that seems to keep growing the longer he looks at you before patting the spot next to you excessively.
You skip a bit as a big smile takes your face, rushing over to his bed, jumping onto it, and landing on your knees next to him, bouncing a bit when you land thanks to the springs in the old mattress of Sohee’s bed. You curl your lips in when you look at him, watching his eyes scatter across your face with that same smile on his face. You both can’t seem to stop smiling; both of you are giddy but too unsure to make the first move. You giggle quietly at the silence, leaning closer to him to bump your forehead against the side of his head. 
"Nervous?" you tease, and Sohee chuckles in response - a sound so sweet it makes your heart flutter. His large hand reaches out to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his touch light and careful. This simple act sends an indescribable shiver down your spine.
"Not nervous. Just…" He hesitates momentarily, glancing away as he searches for the right words. But then he's looking back at you with those warm brown eyes full of nothing but love. "Just wanna make sure this is what you want," he finalizes, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek.
His concern is touching, but also slightly amusing. And it only serves to deepen that heat building up in your chest - this feeling so different from anything you've ever felt. Everything feels new with Sohee but also so familiar.
You take in his worried expression before giving him a reassuring smile, reaching up to cup his face with both hands. "Trust me," you state firmly, pressing a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose for emphasis. "This is what I want."
His pretty eyes blink at you once, twice, before his lips stretch into another one of his adorable smiles, crinkling up into crescent moons at the corners. As always, it's contagious, and you can't help but smile back at him.
He leans in first, slow and careful, like he's afraid he might break you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as your eyes flutter close, the anticipation almost unbearable now.
Then, finally, his lips meet yours softly, gently, almost like a breath against your skin in the beginning. It sets you ablaze. Everywhere. You can feel the heat pooling low in your stomach instantly, spreading through your bloodstream as he leans into you further. His fingers lace with yours, his hand resting on your lower back as he opens himself up to you more, asking you to deepen the kiss. And when you do, it’s perfect.
Soft and slow, his lips pressing against yours in a familiar rhythm. Sohee tastes of sweet lemonade and mint gum as they move against yours. You don’t know how much of it is real life and how much is a dream because Sohee’s lips seem to mold to yours so effortlessly that you forget everything else but his warmth, the smell of his breath on your face, and the taste of his mouth.
You moan softly into his lips, feeling him curve into the touch, nudging closer to you until their bodies are pressed together from shoulder to thigh. Your fingers dig into his arms, not wanting to lose this contact for one second as your free hand lingers at the hem of his t-shirt. You both sigh into each other’s mouths softly before pulling away just enough to suck on his bottom lip softly, feeling him whine in response.
“So cute as always,” You whisper against his lips before pressing them together once more, feeling him moan into your mouth at the mere touch of your lips against his. It still boggles your mind that he’s never done stuff like this before. When you asked him why he never just got on a dating app, he told you he tried, and it wasn’t as easy as it sounded or that none of the people he found on there were his type. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense that Sohee never had sex before last weekend. 
Sohee didn’t talk to a lot of girls. He was shy, very sweet, but very shy. It wasn’t that girls didn’t like him. Plenty of them did. He just couldn’t talk to them for long. The longer you thought about it, it was a miracle he had managed to kiss a girl before you blew him. To be fair, they were both drunk, and at a party the cops would end up showing up to. It’s not like it mattered now, but it plagued your thoughts, knowing you’re the only one he’s had like this.
His hand finds its way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as his other hand traces a slow path down your side. The feel of him, his closeness, and the pure 'Sohee' of him is intoxicating, and you can't get enough. You angle your head slightly to deepen the kiss, feeling his grip on you tighten.
There's a slight rustle of fabric as Sohee shifts closer, and what was sweet and gentle heats up to an intensity that takes your breath away. He pulls back ever so slightly, but before you can protest, he's claiming your lips again with a fervor that makes your heart pound even harder.
You gasp into his kiss, feeling it wash over you like a wave. His hands are on your waist now, pulling you closer as if there's not already enough heat between the two of you. There's a sudden boldness to him that sends a thrill down your spine. This is Sohee - sweet and shy Sohee - who has somehow managed to transform into this passionate, assertive thing that has you pressed into his sheets and kissing you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.
Suddenly, he pulls away from your lips and starts trailing kisses down your neck. You reach up to his hair, tugging lightly at the strands as he moves further down. His hands roam over your body, tentative but becoming more confident by the second. 
“You okay?” he whispers against your skin. His voice is unsteady, revealing just how much he’s holding back. Your heart tightens at his concern, making you want him even more.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, “More than okay.”
That seems to be all the encouragement Sohee needs. He pulls away to tug at your clothes, looking up at you for permission before slipping them off entirely. Now, nothing but bare skin and the dim light that filters through the room.
His eyes never leave yours as he moves lower, pressing a kiss just above your belly button. The anticipation of what’s to come has you trembling. It's as if his shyness is melting away and being replaced with something raw and hungry.
“Sohee…” Your voice is barely a whisper as he hovers above you. His gaze is intense, full of questions that he doesn’t need to ask because, yes, of course, you want this.
His fingers trace over your thighs before spreading them apart gently as if he's afraid you'll break. His eyes flicker up to meet yours once again, and his head dips down.
It's clumsy and awkward at first. Sohee has no idea what he's doing, and it's as clear as day. But something is endearing about his determination to make this good for you: how he tries different movements until he finds one he likes. More so, he likes the reactions you give him.
His lips brush against you, soft and warm, like a feather on your skin. It's electric, and you let out a tiny moan, more surprised than anything. Sohee's fingers curl into your thighs harder, his nose grazing the patch of hair below your navel. That tiny touch sends shivers down your spine. He continues his exploration, kissing and licking upwards until he reaches the sensitive spot between your legs. The feeling is unbearable, and you gasp for air as he finally settles there. His nose moves softly against your folds, taking in your scent. You feel him inhale deeply, almost like he's absorbing you into his system.
"Sohee," you whisper his name against the pillow, unable to form any other words as he parts you with his fingers and dips his head lower, pressing another kiss there before swirling his tongue around your clit. You can feel yourself melting under his touch; it's almost too much. Sohee's hair tickles against your inner thighs as he burrows deeper this time, tasting you properly. Every pulse of pleasure that goes through you spurs him on, making him suck harder on your clit as one hand moves across the sheets to intertwine with yours. You whimper at the feeling of his palm against yours, squeezing tightly as you watch him with heavy-lidded eyes.
You buckle beneath him, crying out his name, feeling each breath he takes against your skin. His lips dart in and out, tracing circles with his tongue as he grazes over your clit. You grip the sheets tightly, arching your back and moaning into the pillow. Sohee's fingers squeeze your hand while the other hand continues to explore every inch of you he can reach from his position. You can feel every shudder run through him as he takes you into his mouth, tasting you, teasing you mercilessly with gentle sucks against your folds.
You open your eyes to look at him, seeing the concentration on his face as he lavishes attention on you. His free hand traces your inner thigh, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. He licks and teases, sucking softly at your clit as you squirm underneath him. The bed creeks with every move he makes, adding another layer of stimulation as your moans become louder and more desperate for release.
Your hips rise off the bed a little before coming back down hard onto the mattress as you let out a long, low groan. Your fingers dig into his hair as Sohee's tongue darts out to flick across your entrance – a taste test that has your toes curling in response. He hums around you, smiling against your skin as he takes you deeper into his mouth. The vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure through you, making it harder to keep quiet. You bite down on your bottom lip as pleasure builds within you, feeling so close to the edge but not quite there yet.
You feel your walls start to tremble and quake as you near your peak, your hips bucking up and forcing him deeper into your mouth. Soon, he's sucking at just the right rhythm, sending waves of pleasure over you that build and crash with each passing moment. Your fingers dig into his hair, holding on for dear life as he moans around you, encouraging him to continue. He does so, pushing you further and further until your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, crashing through you in waves. Your body tenses, and your breath quickens as your muscles contract in ecstasy. A tight moan rips from your throat as you reach the peak of pleasure, waves of bliss pulsing through every inch of you.
Sohee doesn't let up, swirling his tongue around your entrance until the last shudder passes through you. Then, he slowly pulls away from you, giving your clit one last lick before looking up at you with those brown eyes that hold nothing but love and adoration. His hands smooth over your stomach before gently kissing the skin, lifting his head, and colliding his full lips with yours. You taste sweet against his lips, moaning against him as your arms drape over his shoulders, grabbing his shirt by the back of the neck and pulling it over his head.
He breaks from the kiss to let you take his shirt off, but he’s dragging himself back to your lips, moaning when he crashes into you. “Always wanted to do that,” Sohee pants against your lips as he ruts his hips against yours, making you whimper up at him as the fabric of his basketball shorts brush against your sensitive folds. 
“You’re-You taste so good. Fuck, every bit of you tastes so good. I just want to eat every part of you.” His breathless confessions make you moan quietly, nodding along in agreement as your breathing begins to pick up again. Your heart is pounding in your throat like you just ran a marathon, your hands scrambling to press against his chest. When your palms press to his chest, you hear his heart pounding against his ribcage.
“I’d let you eat me,” You tell him breathlessly, feeling him smile against your lips. “Want to live inside you forever. ‘Don’t ever want to leave you.” Sohee groans at your dragged-out words, ducking his head into the crook of your neck where his lips attack the skin there, nipping and sucking to leave bruises, marking you as his for everyone to see.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me, baby. Please,” Sohee whispers into your skin, his words sinking into your bones and carving themselves into them. You nod without hesitation, digging your nails into his back. Your brain is too clouded to think rationally, to remember how you hated this town, to remember the dozens of out-of-state college applications you sent out to rid yourself of this place, even to contemplate how you would leave Sohee one day. Not now, it doesn’t matter now.
“I promise. I swear, Sohee,” You whisper, turning your head for your lips to brush against the shell of his ear. He moans, body trembling against you before lifting his lips to collide with yours again.
Beneath the hum of the box fan and squeaks of a mattress with every move you two make, you can hear the cicadas sing.
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xan-izme · 2 days
Text
Double Life 8 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)
Summary: A little trip to New York with not only Damian and Bruce. But the three other boys. Jason, sadly being one of them.
part 7
You were pretty excited about Damian Bruce coming, happy about Dick and Tim coming along as well. You were very, very reluctant on Jason coming. But if Jason was left in the mansion alone, your pretty sure he would ransack your room for the case. The case was of course not in your room anymore, you're not that stupid. But if Jason kept thinking you were that simple minded, then it buys you enough time to work things out.
The ride to New York wasn't that bad. Jason didn't talk much. You just answered a few simple questions the others would ask.
As for Daimian, he was very unhappy with EVERYONE coming along at first. But then he realized that maybe he can get enough info from your mothers' side of the family. This boy had everything planed out.
Once the limo was parked, and you stepped out with the help of Bruce. You let out a small nervous sigh. You're not sure how things are going to go down.
Bruce rested his hand on your shoulder, he sensed you were nervous. You look up at him. He gave you a small smile and you did the same.
Miles was at school, in his dorm room. His roommate Ganke, was not in at the moment. So, he had some time to do some more research and try to see what was in the chip you sent him.
Yes, the chip from the Alchemex case you had to fight Redhood for. You sent it to Miles a few days ago. And you felt like it wasn't smart for you to do it with Jason around. So, you had Miles take care of it.
So much has been happening. More and more anomalies are showing up. It's getting dangerous for him and Uncle Aron every day. He honestly doesn't know how you did it. How you handled these crazy villains on your own. Of course, you have super strength and have abilities similar to a damn spider. But this is very stressful.
Hiding things from his parents hurt, and it was hard to explain why he was late for events or where he got bruises from. Why he hasn't been sleeping well. Why eating is somehow harder to do. Arguing with his parents about his behavior.
Now that he thinks about it, these were the exact things you went through. No?
The messed-up sleep schedule, the amount of food he sees you eat just get smaller and smaller. The unexplained injuries. And arguing with your mom. Yeah. He remembers those arguments. Never pretty. It was rear you ever disagreed with your mother, nor did you act out on her. But he remembers around the time when your hero life was clashing with your personal life began to take effect.
He was only there a few times when you argued with your mom. And damn did it get heated between you two. You would just sound so angry with her. You'd storm out of the house and disappear for hours. Till you come back with a Boquet of your mother's favorite flowers as some form of apology.
And of course, your mother always forgave you. You were her little girl after all.
Miles sighed as he shook his head, rubbing his hand against his face. He's tired but can't find it in himself to sleep. He just misses you. Misses hanging out with you. The two of you are barely texting and calling anymore. He understands, you're grieving and needs some time away. But he just wants things to go back to normal. He wants his favorite cousin back.
back at the party. You got everyone introduced. Tim and Dick were just enjoying the food and small talk. Bruce was chatting it up with your Uncle Aaron and Uncle Jeff. Damian was just sticking close to you as you were speaking with different family members and friends.
He got a lot of cheek pinching and being called cute when you introduced him as your little brother.
"Hey cupcake. How about you go and mingle with the other kids. Their playing some fun games." You say with a small smile. But Damian's face scrunches up in distaste at the thought
"I have no desire to do such a thing. What, do you not want me to be around you?"
"I just want you to have fun." You gently ruffle his head.
As you did that, you hear your aunt call out to you. You turn your attention to her and see her walking to you with a smile and her arms open. You smiled back and greeted her, the two of you sharing a hug.
"Oh, mi amor! it's good to have you home." your aunt squeezed you and kissed all over your face. You became a little flustered from her actions.
You seemed more better from the last time she saw you. The two of you talked as Daimian just stood closely behind you. gripping onto your shirt to try and get your attention again.
But you just rest your hand on his head. A small signal for him to wait.
Rio noticed Damian. She gave a small smile and bent down a little. "And who is this?". Damian looked up at you than to the woman in front of him.
"Tia, this is Damian, my little brother. Damian this is my aunty. Say hi." You nudged Damian to stand in front of you now. Damian cleared his throat and introduced himself. Rio pinched and cooed at Damian. She thought it was cute at how mature he was acting.
"Tia, donde está Miles, no lo he visto." You questioned about your cousins where abouts as you glanced around the crowed.
Rio let out a small sigh. "Ese chico Ha estado portándose mal, ¿sabes?. He got a 'D' in Spanish. A 'D'!"
You couldn't help but chuckle as you held Damian by the shoulders to keep him close to you. "Es un chico inteligente, tía Pero sigue siendo humano Cometerá errores" You spoke with a small smile. Trying to ease your aunt. And silently hopping Miles hasn't done anything ass-whopping worthy yet as you said this.
Your aunt sighs. "I know. He's just worrying me you know? Sus calificaciones están bajando No me hablará a mí ni a tu tío. He doesn't even have friends to hang out with."
"What about his roommate, Ganke?"
"He doesn't count." Your aunt was quick with that one. "Oh. . . well. If you want. I can talk to him maybe."
Damian was just silently listening to the conversation. Annualizing the way you and your aunt interacted. Now he has noticed, how everyone you spoke to and interacted with. Always had something to say about your cousin Miles. And how you seem to justify or excuse his behavior to others.
But to your aunt. You offer to fix. Or try to fix the problem.
"That would be great." Your aunt seems to calm at your words.
The party went on. And it was now time for Jeff to give a speech. It was a heartwarming speech. Your uncle Jeff gave thanks to his wife. His brother, and his son, who. . . was still not here.
Finally, he mentioned you. You were standing with the other Wayne's as you were surprised that you were mentioned
"To my niece. Who always was there for my son. Made sure he didn't get into any trouble and making sure he knows who was in charge." A few chuckles came from the crowed around you.
"We actually, have a little surprise for you. Miles was uh- supposed to be the one to reveal it. But it seems he's running late."
Your brow raised as you turn your head to Aaron who just smiled and turned you around to face a building with a large tarp over it.
You were, still confused. Until the tarp came down.
"Miles stayed up a few nights to get it, just right." Aaron spoke softly to you.
On the building. Miles had graffitied a large portion of it. Of your mother. And he got every detail down. To her smile down to her beaty marks. Looked so realistic. Like, she was really there. Smiling at you. God have you missed that smile.
This, made you really happy. Nothing could really put you down now.
Miles came rushing onto the rooftop. Trying to make it through the crowd of people. Soon reaching his parents.
"Ma! Dad! sorry I'm late. I got the cake. Is Y/n here?" Miles was a little out of breath as he stood in front of his parents.
"Where have you been? Y/n was looking for you and you missed your father's speech." Rio had her hand on her hip as she had a deep frown.
"And the surprise for your cousin." Jeff piped up. Rio slapped her husband's chest at the mentioning of that.
"And the Suprise for her!"
"I know, I know. I'm sorry." Miles tried not to show how irritated he was at getting scolded at the moment.
"No, you do not know Miles. Your cousin has been going through a rough time. We need to show her we are here for her. That she still has us to count on. We are family and you know if you were in her position she would be by your side 24/7!" Rio went off on Miles who was getting more frustrated by the moment.
And with a roll of his eyes Miles spoke. "Okay okay. Whatever. . ." Miles froze as his eyes widen. realizing his words
'shit.'
"Whatever. . . whatever??-" Before Rio could say anything else you spoke up and stepped between Miles and his parents
"Miles! where have you been? come here!" You rushed to hug your cousin "You almost died there." You mumbled into your cousin's ear. You pulled away with a smile.
"Sorry, can I take Miles away for a bit." You say with a hopeful look. They both sighed and let you take Miles away. Saving him from their wrath.
You dragged Miles towards an area on the roof for you two to talk privately. And have a good view of the art Miles made.
"You made this. For me?" You kept Miles close as you spoke. Miles let a small smile grace his lips and gave a small shrug. "It's nothing really. I took it from one of your favorite pictures of her."
You smiled down at your cousin fondly and hugged him. Squeezing him tightly. Smiles smiled. He missed your hugs. He hugs you back just as tightly. The air around you two was peaceful. You pulled away a little and ruffled his head
"Thank you. . . for everything." You spoke softly. Miles could see your eyes water up just a bit. Miles rolled his eyes as he playfully punched your arm. "Don't get emotional on me now."
the two of you laughed and just silently stare at the graffiti art of your mother.
". . . You miss her?" Miles suddenly spoke. You were, a little taken aback by his question. You turn your head to look at him. You can tell by his expression. He wanted this conversation with no masks. And just the truth.
"Everyday." You respond. Your tone, a little sad.
Silence falls upon you two once again. It was a peaceful kind of silence.
"Miles?"
". . . Yeah?"
"I love you."
Miles lets out a small smile.
"I know."
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sophrosynesworld · 2 days
Text
Pancakes and Extra Bacon
Can we imagine a cozy morning with Bakugo for a moment?
I wake up slowly, feeling the warmth of the early morning sun streaming through the curtains. The first thing I notice is the steady rise and fall of Katsuki's chest beneath my cheek. I snuggle closer, savoring the rare moment of peace. Katsuki's never been the soundest sleeper, but sometimes, he's able to relax.
His arm tightens around me slightly, and I look up to see him blinking sleepily, his eyes half-open.
"Morning," I whisper, smiling.
"Morning," he mumbles back, his voice rough. Katsuki stretches, his muscles flexing with each movement, and I can’t help but admire him. His blond hair is tousled, sticking out in every direction, and he looks so adorably different from his usual self.
"You sleep okay?" I ask, tracing a finger along his chest.
"Yeah," he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Better with you here."
I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks and bury my face in his shoulder to hide it. Katsuki isn’t one for grand declarations of affection, so moments like these are precious.
"What about you?" he asks, his hand moving to gently stroke my hair.
"Best sleep I’ve had in ages," I reply honestly. "You make a pretty good pillow."
He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that makes my heart skip a beat. "Don’t get used to it. I’ve got hero work later today."
I sigh, the reality of our lives seeping back in. "I know. But we have this morning, right?"
"Yeah," he says softly, pulling me even closer. "We have this morning."
We lie there in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth and closeness. Eventually, Katsuki speaks up again. "You got any plans today?"
I shake my head. "Just a few errands. Maybe a coffee date with Ochaco later. What about you? Other than saving the world, of course."
He smirks. "Just the usual patrol. Might swing by the gym afterward. You know, gotta keep these babies in shape." He flexes his arm, and I laugh, swatting him playfully.
"Show-off," I tease.
"Damn right," he says, grinning. "But seriously, if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"
"I will," I promise. "You always take such good care of me, Katsuki."
His expression softens, and he cups my face in his hand. "Because you mean everything to me, you idiot. I gotta make sure you're safe and happy."
My heart melts at his words. "I love you," I say, feeling the words swell in my chest.
"I love you too," he replies, his voice tender and sincere. "
He leans in slowly, his eyes locked onto mine, and I feel a familiar flutter in my stomach. Our kiss is soft and tender, his hand cradles the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair.
I respond in kind, deepening the kiss, savoring the warmth and the taste of him.
"Come on," Katsuki pulls away, sitting up and stretching again. "Let’s make some breakfast. I’m starving."
I laugh, following him out of bed. "Alright, what do you feel like eating?"
He thinks for a moment. "How about pancakes? With extra bacon."
"Pancakes and bacon it is," I say, heading to the kitchen with him. As we start cooking, I can’t help but feel grateful for these simple, cozy mornings.
"Just admit it, you're secretly addicted to my pancakes."
I raise an eyebrow at him. "Addicted? I don’t think so. I just tolerate them because I like you."
He smirks, flipping a pancake expertly. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that. But we both know you can’t resist my cooking."
"Oh please," I shoot back, rolling my eyes. "I only pretend to like them because you look so proud of yourself when you cook."
"Is that so?" he asks, arching an eyebrow. "Then why do you always ask for seconds?"
"To make you feel good about yourself," I reply with a grin. "You know, I gotta boost that fragile ego of yours."
He laughs, a genuine, hearty laugh that fills the kitchen. "Fragile ego, huh? Keep talking like that, and you'll be making your own breakfast."
"Promises, promises," I tease, sticking out my tongue. "you'd miss me too much."
"Yeah, yeah," he says, shaking his head but still smiling. "You’re lucky I love you, brat."
"And you’re lucky I love you back.”
We finish making breakfast together, the playful banter continuing as we move around the kitchen. It’s in these moments, filled with laughter and lighthearted teasing, that I feel the happiest. No matter how hectic our lives get, we always find time for each other, and that makes everything worth it.
85 notes · View notes
nattheother · 2 days
Text
[22:47]
820 words; fluff, awkward blorblos, tension, yearning, introverts at their very best, can you tell how self-indulgent this is
“I’m right around this block,”
You point out as you take a lead making a turn. Wonwoo follows a little behind you, not sure if the distance was any nuisance to you, except you noticed. His head jolts at you when you look back at his face. Oh, right. Why did he do that? Obviously you are shorter than him, having someone to look up and behind at the same time while walking isn’t the best gesture to do to a… smaller person.
He quickly takes longer strides to walk beside you as a sheer cloud forms whilst you laugh at the gesture, you gently elbow his arm. “We’ve been having a great conversation, why do you seem unsure?”
Wonwoo scratches the back of his head, “I wasn’t sure if it’s okay to take you right to your door,” his finger pushes up his glasses as he’s been looking down to look at you.
You pause at his reply, appreciating his concern because one; it’s the first time you’re together alone, and two; well, you guys barely really talk ever since the first time you meet, and the few meetings after that. It’s always you and your friends, and, him and his friends. You know and notice damn well how the both of you get a little fidgety around each other, despite how natural you try to act. So you let him walk a little more.
“Alright, since you're considerate about it, I assure you it’s fine," you continue to walk towards a small stairway, "because we’re already here.” You take one step up the stairs to a doorway to your housing (the additional height from the stair and your shoes doesn’t help, you’re still shorter).
His eyes and mouth went wider, cloud of fog coming out of his lips as he breathed a chuckle, “here?” You nod your head, humming in correction, “Not far from the stop like I said, right?” He nods.
In the midst of the awkward pause, you lift one leg behind to walk one more step up, “I’ll leave once you’re inside,” said Wonwoo.
You nod, "Thanks for walking me home, Wonwoo," and wave him goodbye, “see you again sometimes,” and turn around after he waves back a little.
Or…
Nah, I gotta let him know.
Like a lightbulb just popped out of the top of your head, you spin your heel one-eighty and step off the stairs right after your door, “sorry, I…” you chuckle.
He raises his eyebrows, corners of his lips still curled like it’s glued, “something the matter?” You shake your head,
“No, I just… I forgot this for you,” you take your hand into the pocket of your coat. His lips turned into a sly grin, “you left something?”
“Well,”
“Well?” He teases.
Shut up. You chuckle, still trying to find the item in your pocket. “Give me your hand.” You order.
You take one of his hands with yours that’s outside of your pocket, in intention to hand him directly the item you were fiddling in your pocket, smiling at his now curious face, staring at his hand in yours (more like, curiosity and anticipation). So clueless.
When in fact, nothing was inside the pocket, nor was the inside of your gently balled fist.
Instead, you pull his hand, shoving his body towards you before quickly planting a kiss right at his cheek. This time, you had to lean down from the stairs to reach his face, not to forget his small “ah?” right when you pull him.
It was nice finally seeing the elegant design of the metal piece on his glasses, as well as his slightly crooked and pointy nose right up close as you pull away from the kiss. Not to mention his eyes who suddenly went round unlike his usual calmer and softer gaze.
You didn’t miss the way his eyes dart a second towards your lips as you mirror the gesture, “good night, Wonwoo.” Too fast. Not now.
He squeezes your hand that was on his as you straighten your back, now taller than him. He nods, “rest well.”
You gently let go of his hand, memorizing every sense of touch until the very tip of his fingers. You wave him back one more time before actually fetching your keys in the pocket of your coat.
After successfully (frankly a little clumsily) unlocking the door, you give him one more smile before closing the door. Surely not forgetting to cringe at the adrenaline you just felt, to pull him for a chaste smooch. Oh...
...how cold his cheek was.
He stares at your figure engulfed behind the door. He feels pale. It’s like he’s going to explode. His scarf warmed him for the past ten minutes on the subway and twenty minutes walking with you. But his heart isn’t calming down at any moment. The flush on his cheeks and ears were just from the winter chill right? It’s gonna be February soon.
He didn’t leave, now crouching down, head buried to his lap with fingers threading through his own hair right in front of your doorway instead.
guess who's hopeless, depraved, and desperate for love (me. its me, sir.)
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marxo-fm · 19 hours
Text
Mild Sweet
✯ Joel Miller x f!reader
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Summary: Your dad hosts a welcoming party for a good friend who’s coming back from Seattle after quite some time. BBQs, drinks, dancing, and a good ol' time. Until you realize the friend, is your secret crush. A silly little crush that turned into something more, but you've kept it a secret most of the time. What happens when you two rekindle and talk, and that secret is unable to be kept in for any longer?
Warnings: MDNI+18, mentions of adult themes and language, mentions of alcohol and swearing, smut with slight plot, afab!reader age gap (reader-late twenties, Joel-early forties), praising, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, talking you through it, oral!f-receiving, fear of getting caught, no descriptions of race/ethnicity, skin color, hair type/length, or body type.
Words: 1.8k
A/N: Long awaited, I apologize, but I hope that with this fic--you can forgive me. Life has been hectic, but I am on break finally, so I chose to use this time to feed my deprived peeps. I hope you all enjoy reading this, just as much as I enjoyed writing this. Thank you!
Update: This has been sitting in my drafts since the dawn of time, I’m not on break anymore, I GRADUATED, I have all the free time now. Just wanted to clarify if I go missing again, it’s going to be because of college. That’s all, thank you, you may continue. -if this is bad, I’m sorry, this was from months ago. Go easy on meeeee.
“Well yeah hun, I sure am hosting a barbecue party. I don’t care if it’s damn near hot enough for my skin to fall off, I am going to host it.” Protested your dad as he chugged his second can of beer. He won’t tell you further details, which confused you since you had every right to know. Not only because you’re his daughter, but because you’d like to know who the hell this mystery friend is that your father keeps talking about. Says it’s to be kept a surprise until he finally makes it to San Antonio. Which, by the way, you don’t even know when that’ll be either.
“Is this barbecue party even going to happen? Or are you just going to pass it off to someone else in this neighborhood?” The two of you stood eye to eye in the agonizing heat of Texas. Hell, you’re used to it, but it sure did make you frustrated. The humidity didn’t help either. Flies were everywhere and yellow grass that used to be bright green surrounded your home, it used to be a shade of green similar to a green highlighter—in spring that was. You look at the grass and back at your dad, who left the conversation and went to his truck. He opens the passenger seat and shouts, “Get your butt in here, we gotta get the supplies ready for this damn barbecue!” His country accent cuts through sharper than any knife.
It’s hard to take him seriously sometimes.
--
“Remember when you told me you didn’t need my help?” 
Your dad looks at you with an eyebrow raised and back at the road.
“Kid, don’t make me rethink my choice now. I only said that because sometimes your ol’ man likes to do things his way. Cause’ you see, back in my day-” 
“Back in my day, my daddy made me do all the hard work. Dad, I’ve heard this story many times growing up, I know.” You mocked, chuckling a little under your breath carefully trying to not chuckle too hard. 
“Well, in that case, you’re right. But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Your eyes widen in surprise, carefully leaning over the console of your dad’s truck. What could this darn secret be?
“Remember my good ol’ friend, Joel Miller? That good-looking pal who’s just a few years younger than me? Well, he went over to Seattle with his kid, Sarah. Ya know, family bonding time and whatnot.” Your dad lost his focus looking at his rearview mirror and blindspots before turning left, then continued, “Fortunately, he’s coming back to San Antonio and I’m throwing this barbecue party to welcome him. I’m sure he’d love it, his kid too, and well of course–all of our friends included.”
Joel Miller. A name that went through your head a million times. Over and over.
A man you have had a long and forbidden crush for, a feeling that grew intense over time.
The feelings died down for a bit when he was gone for God knows how long, but they came back. And you don’t know how to feel about it.
--
“Okay, everything’s ready y’all just gotta set em’ up now. We don’t have much time.” Instructed your dad to his fellow friends and a few relatives. Other relatives were far too busy for the welcoming party. Out of all the other days your dad chooses to throw this party, it just has to be on a Sunday.
A few of your dad’s friends were preparing the meats, Joel was going to be here any minute now, and you grew hot. Unsure whether it was this agonizing heat of San Antonio, or if it was just you. Something about the way he walks, talks, looks, is what gets your gears moving. His gray hair, his voice, his body. Hell, at this point you’d rather have Joel for dinner rather than that damn barbecue. But you swore to keep yourself sane and still, especially in front of your dad. He’d surely laugh if he found out about your crush towards Joel, then switch to being confused…and finally, angry.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Your dad walks up to you, handing you an apron. What in God’s earth is he making me do? Surely he wouldn’t make you prepare meats and have you cook them, after all, you just want to impress and look good for Joel. You bought an entirely new dress just for this damn welcoming party, hoping to somewhat catch his attention.
A short and light purple dress that reveals just enough.
God, this is pathetic. Dressing all pretty for man who wouldn’t even bat an eye at his good friend’s daughter. Or maybe, if you’re lucky enough, he might. You still have to greet him, so yes, you’re going to talk to him. It’s to respect him and it’s common sense since well—it is a welcoming party…
“He should be here any minute now hun, just put this apron on and go help out.”
“Do I have to? I mean, your nieces and nephews are over there sitting doing nothing. I’d rather prepare the table.”
Your dad looks over at your cousins then back at the table you insisted on doing. The table didn’t have any plates on it, nor did it have decorations.
“You’re right, the table does need some…stuff on it.”
You walk on over to prepare the table, when you a truck pull up from behind the fences of your backyard. That’s when you feel yourself sweating gallons and breathing heavier. You thought maybe it was just a neighbor, but you were proven wrong.
Joel Miller is here.
“Dad, Joel is here. I think.” Your dad looks at your in a state of shock, only because everything hasn’t been prepared yet and well, everyone is supposed to be hiding to surprise Joel.
“Y’all needa hide, Joel’s here. Drop everything and hide somewhere before he sees us!” Everyone—including yourself—go in hiding. You choose to hide under the table you were planning on finishing work at. Y’know, decorating it and all. But you were too late. You see everyone smiling or giggling in excitement, ready to surprise Joel. He hasn’t been in Texas for God knows how long; would you blame him?
You hear footsteps inching closer and closer, and that's when you hear him say, "anyone here?"
You and everyone else jump out from your hiding places, the word surprise didn't leave your mouth, your jaw just hung open instead.
He changed, looks more grunt than usual, but also happy because of the welcoming party. It irked you, but you ignored it.
The black shirt he wore fit nicely on his body, he must've worked out or something, his shoulders are broad. It gave you something to think about, and your face reddens. He finally looks at you, Joel was more focused on your face rather than your dress. He did acknowledge it, though, but...you looked different. Not in a bad way, just different. It must be the makeup style you chose to wear, or the purple dress that radiated your face. Either way, his look had you holding on to the table harder.
"Been so long pal, c'mere." People shared awkward glances, but it went away when Joel hugged your dad. They shared it for quite some time, but it was needed.
"m' I really this important that you threw a welcoming party?"
Your dad smiles, "sure is Joel, been so long ain't nothing for me to do other than drink my beers alone without ya. But you're finally here." He pats your dad on the shoulder with a smile, continuing their small talk before Joel greets the others.
--
You wondered why Joel hasn't greeted you yet, you felt as if you maybe did something wrong. Surely not, you scoff, as if he was here for anything like that. You don't know, but your head kept pestering you about it. His daughter is at a table full of friends and cousins, "at least his daughter greeted me." You innocently whispered under your breath, unaware that Joel heard you just across the table. You sat by your dad, so Joel heard it, but was already making plans to greet you some other way. You just had no clue yet.
You catch him eyeing your dress, and he notices you looking. You quickly shy away, but he chuckles and goes back to eating his food. Lust and heat pumped through your veins, and your heart was beating a hundred beats per minute. At any rate now, you're sure you'd have a heart attack.
He wasn't even doing anything. All he did was look at your outfit.
You did a good job at catching his attention, but the tension was far too much. The sexual tension. Did he feel the same? Or was he innocently looking? You look up to see him manspreading from the fulfilling dinner he just ate, his shirt raised a little. You could see his tanned skin just above his belt. Unsure of what the hell that made you feel just now. Joel still craved something deep down, dessert, more specifically.
"Hey dad, may you excuse me for a minute. I need to use the restroom." He nodded and you hurriedly scurried off inside your house. Closing the door behind you shut, and you quickly catch your breath.
Everything intensified, everything from top to bottom. The heat between your legs, you're sure your underwear is soaked.
He didn't even do anything.
--
You locked yourself in the restroom. sort of trying to recollect yourself after your encounter. But what the hell were you even thinking? Where was the respect? No hugs, not a thank you, or even a hello?!
You were interrupted suddenly by a knock on the door. "It's occupied!" You respond.
Another knock.
"I thought I told you that this restroom is occupied?" You grew frustrated. One more knock and it sent you over the edge.
"What the hell do you not understand?"
"It's Joel, open the damn door." He ordered. His voice was huskier, angry and needy almost. Your heart pounds and you began to question your dignity.
"C'mon sweet cakes, open the door." You had no choice, knowing Joel, he'd continue with his knocks and the continuous, "let me in."
"Okay," you sighed, "I'll let you in, just gimme a moment."
There wasn't a word behind the door, just silence.
Deep breaths in and deep breaths out, you finally walk to the door and open it.
Joel greeted you with the hungriest kiss known to mankind. Like a predator to his prey. He shut the door behind him and managed to find a way to lock it. His hand immediately grabs the back of your neck, gripping your hair tight to get a better hold of you. All you felt was his mouth on yours, all thoughts gone. Out the window.
You struggled to breathe but your hands find their way on his broad shoulders, you held his shoulder tight to keep you from falling. Knees are weak and dignities are gone.
His tongue goes in deeper, and you do the same with yours, the sound of kisses filled the silence in the bathroom, but you didn't care. It was like a dream come true, kissing the man you've always felt something for. But has he felt the same? You know, following you to the bathroom to kiss you had to signify that.
You pull away, a string of saliva leaving both of your lips. His hand slides down your back, holding your waist and pulling you closer to his body.
You're both panting, trying to regain your breaths.
"We shouldn't be doing this."
"But you want to, don'tcha sweetheart?" He pulls you impossibly closer, "I saw the way you eye fucked me over there, doing that while wearing this little dress won't do you no good doll."
"Why won't it do me no good? And I wasn't eye fucking you, I was upset at the fact that you didn't even acknowledge me over there."
"Can't tell ya that." He smirks.
You grew frustrated, Joel loves the way your brows furrow. Thinkin' bout how your brows would be furrowing the way his cock rammed deep inside of you. "Y'know, I didn't have my dessert yet. You willin' to give me that?"
Your eyes widen, the knots in the pit of your belly only grew tighter. You knew very well what he implied, and you had no problem giving Joel this. Because as soon as those words left his mouth, he picked you up and sat you down on the cold counter roughly. Causing you to wince in response from the cold contact of the bathroom counter.
"Joel.." you breathed, unsure of what you're seeing is just a dream of if it's fucking real.
"Want me to make you feel good baby? I'll make you feel so good, I'll show you what it's like to be loved by me."
You pant in need and want, "y..yes, I want you to make me feel good, Joel."
"I'll make you feel good, baby." It took you a second to process, only because you can't believe this is about to happen. You're shy, it took a moment before Joel did it for you. His warm rough hands touching your knees and spreading your legs made you moan in response.
"Look at ya, already moaning and I haven't even done nothing."
He pulls you closer, your legs beside his waist as he goes back in for a kiss. This time, it's gentler, softer. It was all sudden, and new. Just a few minutes ago, he was eating your face.
He groans in your mouth, you taste too good to him. He can only imagine how sweet his dessert would taste. This was only a sample, a fraction of what he's about to go in for.
He gives your jawbone peppered kisses, all the way down to your neck, then your collarbone. You hold on to the counters as he made his way down, pushing your purple dress you wore specifically for him.
Then he gets down on his knees, sliding your soaked panties off. You watch as it makes way down to your ankles. "Oh doll, you're so wet for me. That's my girl."
Hearing him call you his girl sure put you in a haze, it all felt unreal.
His head is now between your thighs, and the sight alone makes you close to finishing already.
His tongue brushes against your aching clit and your head tilts back, your thoughts are literally everywhere. Puzzle pieces waiting to be solved, yet you're focused on Joel's head in between your legs.
Your legs spread further once Joel drags his tongue along your throbbing, cunt. Groaning as he's savoring the taste of his dessert. You squirm and move under his touch when his tongue rasps over your sensitive flesh. "Stay still sweetheart." He warned as his arms wrap around your legs to keep you spread open for him.
"Ah, Joel..." You pant, unable to keep it down. "Keep your voice down, unless you want everyone to hear how good I make my sweet girl feel." His dirty words and praises made it so hard to.
He flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth, giving everything he has. You bite down on your lips, "attagirl, doin' so good for me. 'S right."
You almost want to cry out as he devours you, your legs keep him in place as you feel the heat in the pit of you belly grow intensely hotter. You're so wet for him, and you can't help but roll your hips to get more. Watching his head buried into you was so illicit, so real.
"Joel, I'm so close-" you struggled to whisper or even say a full sentence. He continues, but this time, his tongue finds its way inside of your leaking cunt. You moan, he looks up at you. Eye contact was way too intense.
"Taste so fuckin' good for me, ya like watching me eat your sweet pussy hm?" His jaw works more, and you can't help but fight the urge to scream his name. Your chest rose with each stroke of his tongue on your cunt.
Suddenly, his hands leave the tight hold he had on you and hastily unbuckling his belt. He pushes down his jeans, along with his boxers, and the sight before you were everything and more.
You watched his cock spring up, and your eyes widen in shock. He's big, and you didn't know how the hell he is going to fit. Your cunt ached for him, growing more needy. You grab his hair and pull him closer, he hums with affirmation. Joel goes back down, this time to finish what he started.
His familiar touch sent waves of shock throughout your body. Mind clouded and head pounding, you grind into his mouth, chasing your orgasm like an owner chasing his dog. And finally, you explode into fragments of pleasure. Stars and colors were all you could see and hear.
Joel then licks his lips, looking down at your cunt before he inserts his cock slowly. Torture almost. Your eyes roll back and Joel groans at the sight in front of him, this beautiful and glowing woman in front of him. He never thought, at his age, he’d get to see this again. But he hopes he sees it forever.
He thrusts slow and then fast as he listened to your melodic moans and whimpers. It only made him want to go faster and faster, and the coil in the pit of your belly finally snaps and you shake. His thrusts become sloppy, “fuck, you’re so good to me, hun.” He praised as he too followed after you.
“Want me to come in this pretty pussy? Hm? Talk to me.” He ordered. You nod, unable to form words. “Talk.” He demands, “yes, Joel, fuck yes.” And then he lets go of himself, his head placed on your shoulder and he groans as he comes inside of you. His cock twitching, the two of you are still regaining your breaths, you’re still trying to collect yourself.
“We gotta get cleaned up, but we’ll start with you first, how bout’ that?” He smirked and you nod. If this happened to be just a dream, then it was the best fucking dream ever.
92 notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 6 hours
Text
Title: accidentally kidnapping the mafia boss
Fandom: haikyuu
Characters: kuroo, bokoto
Fic type: fluff
Pairings: kuroo x reader, akaashi x bokoto
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, slow burn, readers oblivious, choking, threats, bleeding
Notes: want bam
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
(Name) Hummed as he dragged a cool vintage luggage chest home on his dolly-- an amazing investment he will always treasure-- having seen it on his way home and running to grab his dolly to get it "damn this things heavy..." (Name) Grumbled as he pulled it carefully up the stairs as to not damage the stairs or break the chest though it seemed sturdy.
"Ok... And into my apartment..." (Name) Mumbled unlocking the door and bringing it in excitedly before moving it to the ground "easy..." He whispered to himself and marvelled at the amazing chest "let's see what's inside" grabbing his trusty chain cutters he kept after neighbor put a lock on (name)s mailbox-- he was still mad at that old fart.
Cracking it open he carefully lifted it to see... "Holy fuck that's a person" (name) noticed the stab marks in the side for air as the man was sweating and exhausted "sir?!" He panicked as he noticed bruises "fuck..." The black haired man was disoriented before looking at the man before him and immediately (name) was on the ground with a hand around his throat "who fuck are you?"
"I... Can... Ask the same..." (Name) Wheezed as he gripped the man's tattooed arm desperately to get it off and the man glared but loosened his grip and (name) gasped "where am I?" The man seethed, looking around the room at the tiny apartment "my apartment, I thought this was a cool trunk and took it home... Wasn't expecting you"
"Shit..." The black haired man stood up slowly and hissed in pain, (name) looked alarmed "dude you're bleeding! Let me get my med kit!" (Name) Immediately scurried off to grab said item as kuroo stumbled to the couch, brief thoughts about its comfort as he rested a bit and tried to sort his thoughts. "ok, so I have hello kitty and pokemon gauze, which one you want" (name) asked and kuroo looked confused "what? Regular gauze is lame"
(Name) Helped him remove his sweaty and tattered shirt before beginning to clean his wound "thankfully they missed any important bits, I can stitch you but you may need a shot of vodka or something" (name) teased as he began patching him up the best he could with the finite skills he had, humming softly as he worked. Kuroo was staring at him intently, why was he so calm? He just found a dude in a chest he brought home! "Aaand there!" (Name) Seemed pleased with himself as he patched up the other, a grin on his face "you should rest for a bit, do you have anyone to call?" (Name) Asked while getting up to walk to the kitchen only a few feet away "uh, yeah..." Kuroo was awkward to say the least.
(Name) Put a few rice balls on a plate and a cup before walking back, setting them infront of him. Pulling out his phone he pulled the call screen up and handed it to kuroo "here, to get your strength up"
Kuroo quickly dialed his right hands number, tapping his foot as it rang a few times "speak"
"Bokoto, it's kuroo" the mob boss said simply and bokotos tone changed "where are you?! I have been looking for you for two days!" The owl like man yelled worried and kuroo looked to (name) "what's your address " (name) perked up at the question"(address)!"
"Who was that?"
"My accidental captor, don't worry the kittens as harmful as a daisy"
"That's good, we will be there in 30"
"Excellent, bring me a new shirt"
"On it!"
Hanging up kuroo signed and (name) let out a small laugh "what's so funny?"
"This is such a weird day!"
"Yeah... It is pretty weird" Kuroo chuckled lowly as he looked at the other "you're weirdly calm for finding someone choking you out" (name) shrugged "I would have been pretty hostile if I was stuck in a trunk for god knows how long and in an unknown place" kuroo looked at the bruising around (name)s neck and frowned, he was too cute to have bruises like that... Well at least in the context they existed in.
Kuroo leaned and gently touched (name)s Adams apple, the reddish bruise forming on his neck in the shape of kuroos hand "sorry about this" he whispered and looked into (name)s eyes as the other man looked back at him. The two were close, very close and kuroo decided he wanted to kiss his little kidnapper.
BAM BAM BAM
"YO KUROO, ITS ME!" Bokoto called from the apartment door, and kuroo grumbled and pulled away "One minute!" The buff man got up and walked to the door, swinging it open to reveal another buff man. "Whose this?" Bokoto asked seriously as he nodded to the cutie on the couch "oh this is... Fuck I forgot to ask your name" kuroo said to the other who just smiled "I'm (name)! Sorry for accidentally kidnapping you!" Bokoto now understood why kuroo called him a kitten, sweet smile and no regards for the dangerous men in the room that could kill him.
"Would you like something to drink?" (Name) Offered and kuroo wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this all as bokoto shrugged and sat on a chair.
"Accidentally got kidnapped by a twink with a nice ass" bokoto teased as he looked at the man preparing drinks and snacks "better grab him before Akaashi spots him" his husband loved cuties like this, kuroo glaring at the concept of his best friend and right hands husband touching (name).
Wait what.
Why did he care?
And that grin on bokotos face said it all, kuroo was into the dumb pretty boy who came in with snacks and drinks.
Kuroo took a bite from his rice ball with a sigh, this was gonna be troublesome.
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fanaticsnail · 3 days
Note
Kissing booth Crocodile ♡♡♡. Have you seen those "mob wife" aesthetic tiktoks? Because I feel like it just screams Crocodile.
The Sir and Madame Crocodile.
Everyone knows not to mess with the two of them. Anyone who tries is either insane or has a death wish. Because even if you don't know what this couple has done (unlikely) who's going to mess with someone named Crocodile?
The Madame Crocodile, who always sits in on guild meetings. She may not say much, but her spot on the former warlord's lap speaks volumes. And don't underestimate her, because no one misses the way she'll whisper in her husband's ear just a few moments before he brings up a damning point.
The Sir Crocodile, who is known for his protectiveness. His wife may be able to take care of herself, but that won't stop him. If someone so much as breathes at her wrong, he needs to be all but held back.
The Madame Crocodile who loves unconditionally. Her husband is her love and she doesn't know what she'd do without him. They live dangerous lives and it can take a toll. She has been know to pluck her husband's cigars from him and take occasional stressed smoke, every time met with a hand running along her back, rubbing in a soothing motion.
The Sir Crocodile who loves fiercely. His wife has stood with him through thick and thin. He'd place the world at her feet, if she were to ask. He thinks this as they lay in bet at night, head resting on her stomach as her fingers card through his hair.
The Sir and Madame Crocodile, who would brave all the dangers of this world of pirates and marines if it meant loving eachother for the rest of time.
Oh god, oh my god, I am so sorry for this. This was just going to be that first paragraph, I swear. This wasn't supposed to happen, how did I get here? I feel like I just blacked out and now I'm here wtf. Send help, is this what fic writing feels like?
-♡♡ lots of love
I used to be on tiktok all the time, I have been meaning to go back to it. Here is the aesthetic I pictured immediately 😌
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And I made them a playlist too 🖤
Behold: The Reptile's Mob Wife
Honestly, I was keeping this in my ask box because I loved it so much and wanted to get the aesthetic down right, and I have a feeling @indydonuts might want to have a look at this little prompt you've sent. The way her Crocodile has me in a chokehold 🫠.
Indy's Masterlist is here - Her Mob-Wife fic for Crocodile is You Give Me Fever, and the Crocodile "Dress Code" (18+) fic is where I just immediately swooned for the hulking man.
♡♡ Anon, I love you. You have such beautiful ideas and I appreciate them all. Please never stop sending them to me so I can appreciate each prompt you throw my way - big or small. You're exceptional, and yes, this is exactly what fic writing feels like 🖤🖤🖤
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Surprise. Pt. 2 Post Azkaban!Sirius x Mom!Reader
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Estelle meets Snuffles, and Sirius finally gets to meet with you.
Link to Part One
Tags: @box-of-kinderjoy
After watching his daughter go back inside and you disapperate away, Sirius has a hard time deciding how to feel or what to do next.
He feels selfishly relieved you’re not married to another man, and yet he feels strangely guilty that you never moved on. Were you too busy being a single mother to date anyone? Or did Sirius hurt you so badly that you couldn’t trust anyone else ever again?
He feels excited to have a daughter, but anxious because he isn’t sure what to do with the information now that he has it. He feels guilty that she’s been raised without a father. He feels guilty that her father is widely known as a ‘notorious mass murderer on the run’.
And given Sirius’s reputation, he can’t exactly stroll up to your front door and introduce himself can he?
Sirius wonders if you’d believe him if he explained the situation to you. It seems unlikely as he’s got no proof to verify his innocence, but he has to try doesn’t he?
There’s no telling when (or if) Sirius will ever be a free man, and he’s already missed out on so much valuable time. What’s the worst that could happen if he tries to talk to you?
Well… you could refuse to hear Sirius out, curse him, tell him off for being a shit person, boyfriend, and father, then call on the ministry to come take him away—effectively breaking his heart and damning him to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban.
Sirius sighs. He can’t risk speaking to you with no proof. He’s anxious to see you and to meet his daughter, but he’ll be no good to either of you by acting recklessly and getting himself locked up again.
He’ll just have to be patient. As long as he’s alive and out of Azkaban, there will be more opportunities to prove himself and to make up for lost time.
Sirius’s ears perk up as he watches the front door of your home swing open. Estelle skips outside—a book in her hands and a little black cat at her feet—and goes to sit underneath a tree. The cat pounces around the yard chasing birds as Estelle reads.
Sirius wishes he could see the title of the book; he'd love to have even a small glimpse into her personality or interests. He wonders if she's reading for school or fun.
It suddenly occurs to Sirius that Remus must've had Estelle as a student last year. Sirius will have to write Remus to ask if he remembers anything about her.
Sirius briefly considers introducing himself as Snuffles, but he can't see much of an upside to doing that. For one thing, he might scare the living daylights out of Estelle the same way he did to Harry. And he imagines once you get home Estelle will tell you all about the ‘giant, scary, black dog’ she saw today. You’d most certainly recognize the description.
Just as Sirius starts to think it’s time to leave, the little black cat takes notice of him. With wide, unblinking eyes the cat slowly stalks toward his hiding place.
Sirius relaxes himself on the ground, trying to look as friendly and unthreatening as possible. The cat stops a few yards away, staring curiously.
Estelle is quick to notice her cat’s odd behavior, making Sirius’s heart beat a little faster. Maybe he will be meeting his daughter today.
“What’re you looking at, Toasty?” Estelle asks from her spot underneath the tree. The cat—Toasty, Sirius thinks with a smile and small eye roll—meows loudly and walks a little closer to Sirius.
Not wanting to seem too anxious and scare them away, Sirius lays his head down on his paws and waits for the cat to come to him. As Toasty doesn’t give up on his interest in the large black dog, Estelle gets curious as well and starts making her way over.
“What do you see—oh!” She exclaims as she finally spots Sirius. Estelle quickly scoops Toasty up in her arms and eyes Sirius cautiously.
Sirius, trying to show that he’s friendly, lifts his head and starts wagging his tail. Estelle still doesn’t seem convinced, but is forced to drop the cat as he scratches and bites her arms. “Ow! Toast, no!”
As soon as Toast is free, he comes closer to Sirius and starts sniffing his fur. Sirius wonders if Toast—like Crookshanks—can sense that Sirius isn't really just a dog.
Seeing that Sirius probably isn’t going to hurt her cat, Estelle slowly reaches out toward him. Sirius makes a small show of sniffing her hand, and Estelle crouches down to sit in front of him. Gently petting the top of Sirius’s Snuffles’s head, Estelle speaks quietly as if she’s trying not to spook him, “You are absolutely massive! Where’d you come from, hmm?”
Finally getting a closer look at her, Sirius’s heart swells. It may just be his pride talking, but Sirius starts to think Estelle looks more like himself than you.
He wishes he could speak to her, but he honestly isn’t sure what he’d say.
Sirius actually feels a little thankful he doesn’t have to show himself to her yet. He hates that Harry’s first impression of Sirius was to see him disgusting, still in his prisoner robes, and blatantly out of his mind with rage and grief. Sure, the interaction with Harry went as well as it possibly could’ve given the circumstances, but he’d rather his first face-to-face meeting with Estelle go a bit better than that.
“You’re so skinny…” She comments with a pitying tone, eyeing his dirty, matted fur and bones visible through his skin. “Mum should be back from the store anytime now; maybe she'll have something you can eat.”
Sirius sighs as that's his cue to leave. If you come home right now, you’ll without a doubt recognize him, and he doesn’t want to cause any trouble for either of you.
“I don’t know though; could be hours til she’s home.” Estelle shrugs, scratching the side of Sirius’s neck. “She said she was having lunch with Professor Lupin—wouldn’t tell me why though.”
Sirius’s eyes widen and his heart bursts. You’re having lunch with Remus?! He’ll surely tell you everything that’s happened! If Remus corroborates Sirius’s innocence, then you may believe him!
“Woah! What’s got you so excited?” Estelle laughs as Sirius jumps up, barks, and wags his tail. Happy to make her laugh, Sirius also puts on a little show of chasing his tail.
Sirius follows Estelle back to your yard to sit underneath the tree. Estelle gets Sirius a bowl of ice water and some deli meat that may or may not be going bad soon, but Sirius is grateful nonetheless.
Estelle doesn’t talk much afterward; she reads her book (a book on potions, Sirius notes with mild surprise) and occasionally looks up to make sure Toast is still within her sight. Sirius feels an odd sense of pride towards her. He doesn’t know much about her yet, but she seems like a sweet girl.
After an hour or so, Estelle goes back inside (“I’ll be right back, puppy, need the loo!”), and Sirius reluctantly takes his leave while she’s gone. He’s been here much longer than originally intended, and it’s time to go.
Sirius hides himself in a different spot than before and feels guilty when Estelle comes back outside to find him gone. She looks around for fifteen minutes before giving up and going back inside. Her slumped shoulders make Sirius’s heart feel heavy.
He wonders if Estelle’s ever asked about him, and what you’ve told her about him. Does Estelle think her father’s dead, or does she think he doesn’t care about her enough to be in her life?
Sirius sighs. He wants needs Estelle to know that he cares about her. He’s only known of her existence for a mere few hours and he’s already dying to learn everything he can about her.
Who are her friends? What are her hobbies? Interests? Favorite school subject? Favorite foods? What makes her happy? Or angry? Or sad? Does she like sports? Hate them?
He sighs again. The thought of Estelle thinking Sirius doesn’t care about her is heartbreaking.
A quiet crack lets Sirius know you’re home. He makes himself comfortable, deciding to keep an eye on your home until the lights go off and you fall asleep. He isn’t sure why, but it feels right.
He wonders if you believe Remus.
If you believe Sirius is innocent.
Sirius sits and watches the house for several hours. Through the window, he watches the two of you make dinner and sit at the table. After that, he doesn’t see much of anything. Soon enough all the lights are off and Sirius assumes the both of you are safe in bed.
He wonders if Estelle told you about the dog she met today.
Sirius turns back into himself again and stretches his muscles, readying himself to disapparate. He takes one last look at your house and is surprised when he sees the front door open. He stares as you step outside onto your front porch.
You seat yourself on the steps and stare silently at the ground. After a few minutes, you look up and glance around your house and at the dark woods in front of you.
“Sirius?” You ask loudly. “You still there?”
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withwritersblock · 2 days
Text
Love You, Miss You, Mean It
~Love You, Miss You, Mean it by Luke Bryan~
Author's Note: idk what this is but this song has been stuck in my head for DAYS Summary: Nate is still hung up on his first love, for good reason Warnings: swearing maybe? Word Count: 2,303 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader
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Everyone remembers their first love, the first person that made them feel special. It was hard to forget, nearly impossible to let go. Nathan has spent years trying to let go of his first love. But maybe he doesn’t have to. 
2011
“Nate Dog, how are you?” her father mumbled out, slapping his hand against Nathan’s shoulder. Nathan tilted his head back, smiling towards her father. His hands were absentmindedly running along her legs soothingly. Stopping around mid thigh every time. She was asleep, a bright pink wooly blanket draped over her frame. It rested just below her chin. 
“I’m doing good, sir. I was getting ready to head out, but she fell asleep. I know I’m past my curfew,” he explained rushedly. Her father chuckled as he walked towards the rocking chair. “I didn’t want to wake her,” he mumbled. He met her father’s gaze for a few seconds before he shifted his gaze back towards her. She looked so peaceful and exhausted. School was starting to overwhelm her. 
“That’s alright, did you tell your momma that you were still here?” her father asked as he brought the beer towards his lips. Nathan shook his head as he kept his gaze towards Y/N. Nathan slowly dug into his pocket, pulling his phone out. She stirred, adjusting the blanket closer to her chin.
His gaze landed on multiple text messages from his mom. He clenched his jaw as he quickly typed back a response. “I should probably get going, she’s not too happy with me,” he mumbled while he shoved his phone back into his pocket. 
Her father stood up from his chair, “I’ll let you say goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow probably,” he said with a dry laugh. Her father soon left the living room. Nathan ran his fingers through her hair.
“Hey sweet girl,” he whispered as she slowly woke up. She hummed as her eyes opened. “It’s past curfew, baby, I gotta go,” he whispered. She pouted as she sat up, swinging her legs off of his frame. 
“How long was I asleep?” she asked, running her fingers through her hair. He inched towards her, wrapping his arm around her waist. 
“Not long, forty minutes maybe,” he let out as she tilted her head against his shoulder. She took a deep breath, reluctantly standing up from the couch. She held out her hand for him. He gladly accepted it as he stood up. He let her guide him towards the door.
“Come on, boyfriend, let me walk you out,” she said while smiling. He smirked as he scanned her frame shamelessly. She stepped out of her house, the screen door slamming shut behind them.
The brisk Canadian summer air hit their skin as they walked towards her driveway. “You know, girlfriend, I was thinking of taking you to the lake behind my house, probably not entirely freezing to swim in,” he said while laughing. 
“I can handle probably not freezing,” she mumbled as she leaned against the driver side door. 
“Yeah?” he mumbled as he ran his hand from her shoulder towards her hand. She hummed as she met his eye. She smirked as she scanned his features, “What’re you thinking gorgeous?” he mumbled. 
“I’m thinking it’s about damn time you kiss me,” she said as she delicately ran her manicured fingers along his chest muscles. He chuckled nervously before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. Always conscious of her family being around. He raised his hand and delicately took a hold of her cheek, his hand slowly gliding from her cheek to the back of her neck. 
He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, “I have to get going,” he mumbled before he pecked her lips. 
“You don’t have to,” she said as she met his gaze, giving him puppy dog eyes of desperation. 
“I may not be alive, if I wait any longer to get home for curfew,” he teased as he chuckled, “Which was thirty minutes ago,” he raised his eyebrows while smirking. She rolled her eyes as she kissed him for a few seconds. 
“If you must,” she let out dramatically, stepping away from the driver side door. He bit his bottom lip as he tried to avoid the smile forming to his lips. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, baby,” he mumbled as he opened the car door as he climbed inside. He shut the door as he watched her cross her arms over chest. She began walking towards the house. He turned the car on, but waited for her to walk  back inside her house before he began pulling away.
The popular country radio began to play as he drove down the street towards the main road. He was humming along to the Blake Shelton song as his phone started to ring. He glanced down towards it seeing Y/N was calling him. 
He laughed as it wasn’t even ten minutes since he’s left her house. Lowering the stereo, he brought the phone towards his ear. “Hi Gorgeous,” he mumbled, a toothy grin on his lips. 
“Hello,” she said quietly, “What time do you want me to come by tomorrow?” she asked in a sing-song tone. He smirked as he shook his head. 
“Probably around ten?” he mumbled as he took a left turn. 
2013
Nathan stood on the frozen lake while he stick handled the puck. He would skate back and forth tossing the puck towards the center of the lake. He would skate towards it at top speed, practicing stopping abruptly. 
“Nathan!” his mother shouted. He spun around, smiling towards her. It was a scene she’s gotten used to for the last fourteen years of his life. She waved him towards her. He quickly leaned down, picking up the puck before he sprinted towards the edge of the ice. He reluctantly stepped off onto the snow. “Dinner’s ready, and Y/N’s almost here,” she said smiling. 
Nathan leaned down and started untying his skates quickly, “Y/N’s coming to dinner?” he asked, his cheeks flushing red. 
“I invited her, she hasn’t been around much. Everything alright with you two?” she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. 
“We’re good, great actually, just been avoiding the conversation,” he mumbled as he ripped one of the skates off of his foot. He stepped into the boot that was beside him. 
“The draft is only a few months away,” she let out as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You guys haven’t talked about it?” she questioned. Nathan shook his head as he stood up straight, his skates in his hands. Alongside his stick and the puck in his pocket. “Anywhere you’re going Nate will be far,” 
“I know, Mom, I know. That’s why we haven’t talked about it,” he said as he licked his lower lip. He met his mom’s gaze, pursing his lips forward. “I can’t talk about it with her. Not yet,” He shook his head as he walked towards her. She nodded.
“Come on, I made your favorite,” she mumbled as she started walking towards the house. Nathan soon followed after her. He stopped into the garage first, dropping off his stick and skates in the back corner. It was starting to get dark, the sun was creating a beautiful orange glow over the snow. He spun around to see headlights pulling into his driveway. He smiled as the familiar car turned off. 
She stepped out of the driver seat, locking the car in the process. He smiled a toothy grin as he walked out towards her, meeting her halfway between the garage and her car. “Hey beauty,” he let out. Her gaze softened as she continued towards him. 
“Were you out on the lake?” she asked him as she held her arms out towards him, pulling him into an embrace. He pulled her tightly towards him. 
“Yeah, sorry-bit sweaty,” he mumbled, as he pulled away, “Didn’t know you were coming,” he said. 
“It was last minute, hope that’s alright, my love,” she mumbled as he guided her towards the entrance through the garage into his house. 
“Of course it’s alright,” he said happily as he pulled her towards his side.
~~~
She sat with her back leaned against the headrest of his bedroom. His head was in her lap as he caressed the inside of her thighs. There was an old episode of Friends playing on the screen.
He tilted his head back as she ran her fingers through his hair, “We have to talk about it,” she expressed barely above a whisper. He shifted his gaze back down towards her legs, staring at the skin of her inner thigh as he ran his fingertips along the skin.
“About Joey and Rachel? Yeah, they definitely should’ve had a chance together,” he deflected.
“Nathan,” she let out. He swallowed hard before he spun around, wrapped his arms around her stomach as he rested his head onto it. He shut his eyes as he took in a deep breath. She continued running her fingers through his hair soothingly. “We have to talk about it,” she repeated as she tilted her head to get a better look of him. “We’ve avoided it long enough,” she whispered. 
He took another deep breath as he propped himself up and hovered over her. He scanned her features for a few seconds before he leaned towards her. “Can we avoid just a little bit longer?” he said quietly. Her eyes widened as her eyes darted towards the wide open door. He slowly leaned towards her, delicately brushing his lips against hers. 
She leaned towards him, kissing him softly for only a moment. “Nathan Raymond Mackinnon, we cannot avoid this conversation,” she said before she pecked his lips once more.
“You’re so stubborn,” he said as he plopped back down onto her body, his head resting on her chest as he snaked his arms around her body the best he could. He sighed. “I don’t know how to do life without you anymore,” he mumbled as she ran her hand up and down his back.
“You won’t be without me,” she reassured, “We’ll be in different time zones but I’ll still be here because I love you. I’ll miss you like fucking crazy but I’ll still be here if you need me,” 
“I’ll always need you, baby,” he whispered as he pressed his lips against her collarbone. 
“And I’ll always be here,” she whispered. 
2017
It had been two years since they broke up. It was hard, nearly impossible to move on. His thoughts were consistently consumed with her. He was convinced that she would show up to his doorstep one day and say that all was right between them. 
Long distance was harder than either of them imagined. She was incredibly focused on her studies while he was trying to help turn the organization around. Their phone calls became less and less with fewer words shared. 
She would always end the call with “Love you, miss you, mean it, I’ll see you in my dreams, my love,” It was something she would say after every phone call since the beginning of their relationship. It never seemed to not be genuine, every time she would say those words she meant it. 
He struggled, his team was struggling. This year has been exhausting and embarrassing. He was tired, exhausted. It was impossible not to think of Y/N. She always knew what to say to help him and guide him through the issues he was having. 
Though it's been two years since they last spoke, he hasn’t stopped thinking about her. Even after many one night stands, all across North America. His thoughts were still consumed with his first love. His soulmate, perhaps. 
He sat in his stall, one of the last guys in the locker room. He was still wearing half his pads as he stared blankly towards the floor. He needed to get out of the locker room, the staff were definitely waiting on him. He wasn’t ready to leave, turning his back on the season that probably will haunt him for years to come.
He made a vow to himself. In that moment of silence, in that moment of defeat, that they would never be that low in the standings again. They will reach the playoffs for years to come. He stood up, quickly finishing getting his gear off.
It had been thirty minutes since then and the boys were on the bus to the airport, to take a disappointing flight back to Denver. His phone was resting on his lap, he watched the screen light up with an old photo of himself and Y/N. It was taken the day he was drafted. 
He froze for a moment, the memory of their last conversation entering his mind. The tearful words leaving her lips, the heartbreak in her voice. The heartbreak on his own. 
He pulled the phone towards his ear, his heart fluttering at the idea of both of them at the same moment. Pausing, nervous as they wanted to speak.
“Hi,” she mumbled. His eyes shut at the sound of her voice.
“Hey,” he choked out, glancing towards Gabe who was giving him a puzzled face. 
“I don’t know about you but I fucking miss you,” she said, her voice cracking as she spoke. Nathan tilted his head back, feeling his eyes fill with tears for the first time that night.
“I miss you too,” he mumbled, he forced out a quiet laugh.
“I still love and miss you so much, Nate,” she let out.
Nathan smiled to himself as he dropped his head, “Mean it?” She chuckled as she was smiling widely. “Seriously though, I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently,” he forced out. He could hear her smiling.
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greeniegaes · 2 days
Text
JiuYuan au
Basically when SY goes into pidw SJ switches bodies with him! Cool fine whatever right? Not long into it they both discover they can see each other in their dream realms, which have collided into one.
At first it’s SJ being like “damn bro, you live like this?” And SY being like “damn bro, isn’t the sect so much nicer when you’re not being a cunt?”
Basically bickering until they realize the other isn’t that bad. SJ reads the webnovel and is like “this is fucking awful.” And SY just bonds over shitting on it.
As they talk and bond over a few years they start to actually kinda like each other like “wow maybe this guy isn’t awful *all* the time” and they get into a truce telling each other about their original worlds and stuff.
One day SJ is looking at old swords and finds Xin Mo, which shouldn’t be possible? Oh well, it is! And being the Rich Boy TM he is he just buys it from whatever museum or collector has it.
After a bit of discussion SY is like “what if you brought my body here and we swapped back to our originals?” And SJ is so game, he misses cultivation no matter how cool the modern world is.
So during the Jin Lan city arc they figure out how to swap bodies, SY immediately going into his but SJ accidentally getting stuck and being in a coma. Eventually when he wakes up he’s like “shit, why am I here…. Why am I naked?” And he escapes from Huan Hua palace only to get caught up in the fighting between CQS and Binghe’s people.
And Shen Yuan ex machina(+Xin Mo) come to take him away!
Obviously SQH is confused (that looks like the mushroom body but it’s not and he doesn’t know why it looks like that elusive third son of the shens) and LBH is even more confused because “hey now! That’s my sword! Why are there two?” And in the confusion SY fuses both the Xin Mos, purifies LBH, and gets the fuck out of there with SJ on his waist.
YQY: Shidi?! What’s going on, where are you going
LQG: If that man can control the demon sword he can’t be good, what are you doing!?!
SJ; this is my husband now
SY: we did not discuss that but sure (may as well because our consciousnesses are linked)
SQH never figured out what’s going on, JiuYuan go off and have a happy life on a tea farm and hunting monsters.
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atomicbland · 2 days
Text
Just A Mirage Pt. 3
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Sorry this took so long yall! Anways here's part 3, my first ever spicey scene. did i mention i have an intox kink (this fic is practically dedicated to the gorgeous @ghoulphile at this point)
pairings: cooper howard x fem!reader rating: 18+ MDNI! warnings: bondage, degradation, pet names, mentions of age gap (obviously), Cooper Howard being a jackass in general, canon typical chem use, smoking AO3 Link
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Golden morning light pours through the dirty filter of the windows, stirring you awake. As sleep left you you could feel the weight of Dogmeat curled up atop you. You pet her, forgiving her for scratching you, after all, she was too damn cute to stay mad at. You shift to see that the Ghoul was still sound asleep, his hat had fallen to the floor during the night, the scarred skin of his head on show for the whole world to gawk at. You decide to leave him be as it had been a long day yesterday and this was the first time in a while the two of you had safe lodging to relax in.
As quietly as possible you rise from your makeshift bed and creep past the sleeping ghoul, cautious not to let him stir or else you’d have a man and his dog up your ass all day earlier than you would’ve preferred. You gather your bag, holding it to your chest to muffle the rattle of contents and tiptoe your way back towards the glass house. Dogmeat follows behind you as if she were taking over the cowboy’s guard duty shift. 
It’s much easier to see in the glass house in the morning, you find a table next to the door stacked with boxes- something you hadn’t seen in the dim light yesterday. Nosey, you pilfer through the stack. Your years in the wasteland have taught you to never leave any box unchecked, loot was anywhere if you were lucky enough. The first few boxes were filled with faded papers, letters, diary pages, and some newspaper clippings with coupons for Nuka Cola, nothing really special or too important. In the next box, you find a small square tin, rust spots freckle the red lacquered surface, when you open it you’re rather surprised to see it half full, with a pipe nestled in the dried tobacco. You stash it in your bag, half considering giving it to the Ghoul in hopes he’d lighten up around you. Rifling through the rest of the box yields you some more canned water, Nuka Cola, and some nudie magazines filled with scantily clad women gardening. While you rather keep going through the boxes you didn’t want the Ghoul waking up to you missing lest you end up back on his leash. You found some more straw-berries closer to the entrance, picking some in hopes it’ll deter your greedy travel companion from breaking into your stash of food. Dogmeat, who had been in full guard mode sitting facing the door perked up when you moved toward the exit,  you tossed a straw-berry her way as the two of you walked back to the living room. 
“Had fun without me darlin’?” The Ghoul is upright on the sofa. his cheek was fat with his bullets as he spit-shined the barrel of his gun. He looks up at you through his lashes, spitooning a bullet in the palm of his hand before reloading. You’ve noticed his nervous habit, his mouth needed to be busy. If he wasn't using it to talk shit it was doing something else, smoking a cigarette, huffing chems, chewing on a piece of ass jerky, or sometimes sucking on the sweet lead of a bullet. And while you would think twice to put any form of ammo in your mouth -considering in the wasteland some people’s nervous habit involved stabbing- you didn't have much grounds to judge him.
“I was searching that place where I found the berries. Here.” You pull the red tobacco tin from your bag and hand it to the ghoul. 
He opens it and smiles, removing the pipe from the tin to examine it. He sticks the cavity of his nose into the tin, taking a sharp inhale. His exhale laced with excitement. “Now that's some top-shelf shelf dumb luck you got there sweetheart.” 
You ignore his backhanded compliment, fidgeting in place. You muster the courage to ask him to help you harvest some of the apples from the trees. You hated asking for help when it came to reaching anything since most men took it as an invitation to show off their size compared to you. The Ghoul stood a good foot over you, often having you hide behind him in sketchy situations knowing any foe would attack the smaller target first.  
“There’s more stuff back there,” you clear your throat, “I just can't reach everything.” 
“Well,” he spits the last bullet straight into the chamber with skilled accuracy, spinning it closed and returning the gun to its holster. “I ain't never been one to turn down a damsel in distress.” 
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Dumb luck my ass. You think to yourself as you hold your breath to avoid inhaling the dank moldy air of the storage room. You could hear the Ghoul’s heavy footfalls from behind as he slowly scanned the shelves of the room, able to see much better in the dim light that poured through the door to the oasis.
It's almost blinding when you break free into the glass house, the morning light a gleaming beacon of life among the wasteland. You drank in the picture in front of you, it was a lush paradise filled with shades of emerald, and more plants than you had ever seen in one place threatened to burst through the windows. 
A low ragged chuckle from behind broke your stupor. You turn to look at the Ghoul, his hand habitually placed on his holster the other gripped the bandolier that slung across his shoulders a large grin plastered across his face. "Well, I'll be fucked." 
Ignoring him, you make your way to one of the closer apple trees. The bark was as warped and pockmarked as your cocky companion, branches splayed in every direction and littered with supersized apples ever so slightly out of your reach. Too engrossed in sizing up your woody opponent you don’t hear the gravel crunch behind you, the large gloved hand that claps down on your shoulder, startling you.
 “Ain't you the luckiest lil lady this side of the wasteland.” His hand slides down to rest on your hip, pulling you close as if to comfort you. The heat from his hand finds its way from your hip to your core, pooling between your thighs as you long for his touch to become more. You tilt your head up, meeting the rich hazel eyes of the monster behind you. You watch as his free hand reaches up into the branches, leaves rustling in protest as he plucks an apple with ease. 
“Two hours. Be back at this spot.” He mummers, sliding the apple into your hands. His palm lingers at your hip, and it may have been your imagination but you swear you feel his fingers curl ever so slightly as if to pull you closer. 
You break from his touch, your body on fire from where his hands were. Embarrassingly frustrated you venture into the foliage of the glass house, willing your mind to focus on finding supplies rather than linger on the fantasies the Ghoul kept dangling in front of you.
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You had managed to make it to the other end of the glass house without coming across even a stray radroach. Alive at least. The remains of the beasts were still fresh, and Dogmeat, who continued to serve as your dutiful guardian while the Ghoul was out of eyeshot, lapped up the viscous bug goo like a hot meal on a cold night. The back end resembled a small study, short bookcases filled with tomes in various states of decay.
Withered crates, that had long been looted lay scattered around an ancient desk consumed by overgrowth. Despite the empty state of the crates, the desk remained untouched, drawers swollen shut with time and humidity. With some effort and prying with your knife, you break open the drawers of the worn and misshaped desk the contents spilling out onto the ground with a plume of dust. A rather large book sat atop the pile the worn cover read “Victory Vick’s Garden Guide: Sowing the Seeds of the Future!” Thumbing through the pages, each one contained illustrations of all sorts of plants with long blocks of text describing everything you could ever need to know about it, which plants would survive or even thrive in nuclear fallout, how to grow crops in artificial light- a section marked “Sponsored By VaultTec”- and towards the back were some recipes. Your body hummed with excitement at the discovery, a wealth of pre-war knowledge now at your fingertips. Encouraged by the find you bust open the rest of the desk, watching the junk spill out in hopes of striking gold. 
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You had made yourself comfortable under the canopy of some large leaves, the dirt was a soft cushion beneath you as you curled at the base of the tree with your treasure trove of a book. Aside from Dogmeat's furious digging in the earth for monstrous worms, you were isolated from the world outside, unaware of the passage of time. You hugged your satchel of goodies close to your chest, as you became engrossed in the pages in front of you, determined to find information on some of the items you had found after searching the bookcases.  
A whistle breaks the peaceful silence of the oasis. Stubborn, you ignore it, convinced that the answer you’re searching for is just on the next page.
Another whistle rings out this time ripping Dogmeat from her worm hunt, head popping up, ears high and alert waiting for an order. The gravel crunched under the Ghoul's boots, his footsteps soft as to not give away his location.
 "C’mon now girlie, I been awful nice lettin’ you make your mudpies and flower crowns while I’ve been bustin’ my ass.” You can hear him circle in on your location, spurs clinking against the rocks. On instinct, you tuck yourself further under the brush you'd do anything if it meant more time in your paradise. 
He takes your silence as a challenge, you hear him suck his teeth as he mutters something under his breath. A long high whistle pierces your ears and makes your skin crawl, Dogmeat shoots out from your hiding spot to the origin of the noise. You scramble for your bag, shoving the tome inside and clutching it close.
 Dumb bitch. Cursing the dog as she’s given away your location to the Ghoul.
The familiar hiss of his inhaler can be heard next to you, a peak through the leaves reveal his dusty boots confirming his whereabouts. Lightening pain shoots through your head, a tight grip on your scalp tears from your little slice of heaven and into the icy glare of the Ghoul. ���Gotcha.” He growls.
 A squeak escaped your lips and your eyes grew like saucers, your mind raced as to whatever punishment he had in store for you. The leash was uncomfortable, but it was better than being hogtied and hauled over his shoulder like a sack of scraps- and that was for running ahead of him and into a bunch of feral ghouls. His grip on your hair reminded you of the way his hand held your ass so tightly that you had bruises there for weeks. 
You could see something in his eyes, a dark carnal desire. His lips twisted into a smile as his grip tightened releasing another small squeak from you. "Ain't anyone teach you that you’re 'sposed to come when called."
You cursed yourself, his domineering touch never failed to turn you on.
“Sorry…” Your voice falters, hoping and praying he’d spare you the lasso if you looked pathetic enough.
“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it no matter how much you pout them pretty lips o’ yours babygirl.”  He pinches your cheek, patronizing you further as if the stupid pet names weren’t enough. "And to think I was fixin' to give your ass a treat for findin' this place." Removing his hand from your face, he pulls a jar of golden liquid from his pocket. "Somethin' sweet for bein' such a good girl." His words were a deep, hungry growl that twisted at the tension in your core. 
Your face grew red upon realization. He could smell you, every wastelander knew a ghoul’s sense of smell was heightened, however, you assumed that applied only to the feral ones. When he had you tied over his shoulder he could smell how wet being helpless had made you. He only released you from the hogties because the scent of you damn near made him disregard his bounty and take a bite, opting to squeeze a handful of your ass as a means to cope. And right now he could smell your drenched cunt. 
"I don't want any of your stupid chems," you spat, the feelings from his rejection bubbling back up. You felt stupid for letting him toy with you like this for so long all the while he got to have his fun. 
"Oh sweetie, this here's better than any drug you'd ever had.” He releases your hair and pockets the jar. “Now c'mon girlie." He grunts as he tosses you over his shoulder effortlessly, a familiar firm grip on your ass.
He had carried you all the way back to the living room despite your protests of being capable of walking yourself. He tosses you onto one of the battered couches, stealing your bag in the process. Not wanting to push his buttons further you sit quietly watching him meander to the firepit and kneel before it, Dogmeat follows him briefly before stealing a sofa for herself, exhausted from her worm hunting and uninterested in the foodless firepit. The Ghoul is quick to light a fire, taking his time to carefully pack the pipe you’d given him with tobacco in the bright amber light. He then takes to searching through your bag, your stomach drops knowing he’s discovered your stash and will more than likely pocket the items for himself, selling off anything else for caps. But a light wave of relief washes through you when all he takes is your matches, using one to light his pipe, and pocketing the tattered cardboard book.
"Now tell me lil' lady," he spoke, puffs of thick smoke rose around him as he came back to his feet. Each step he took towards you was accented with the creak of the floor, plumes of smoke crawled from his nose with every raspy exhale. "Why'd you go an' hide the best stuff for yourself?" His tone similar to scolding a child as he waves your prized book in your face before tossing it onto the cushion next to you. 
“I-” You’re cut off before you can manage another syllable, the older man not finished grilling you.
“And, I hadn’t forgot ‘bout your lil’ stunt back there. You damn sure know how to make my job extra difficult don'tcha sweetheart?” He flips your bag upside down, emptying the contents onto the cushion on the other side of you; another pipe, a jar of fuzzy green herb, a pair of shears, some caps, and two packs of RadAway. He knelt to your level, face dangerously close to yours, picking up each cap one by one as he watched you looking for any opportunity to further scold you. 
"Now sweetheart," He started, planting a hand on either side of you hunching over to meet your eyes and effectively cornering you between him and the tattered upholstery. "Best answer me this time 'round. I ain't one for repeatin' myself." He leaned in, narrowing the space between the two of you. The heat radiating from his body nearly unmatched by what welled between your thighs. Daring to close the gap you lean towards him, causing him to stiffen at the unexpected challenge. 
"Wouldn't have to hide it if someone wouldn't take everything for himself…” You pout, avoiding his burning gaze. Any bravado you had to stand up to him like last night has been stripped away leaving a flustered, sexually confused mess.
He smiles, eyes dark under the brim of his hat. “Not everything darlin’. After all, you’re still in one piece. Ain’t you?”  His question is punctuated with a cloud of smoke in your face making you sink back into the sofa your face burning hotter than the heat radiating off the Ghoul.
“Oh come on now, don’t start acting all shy on me. Don’t tell me this lil’ bitch is all bark and no bite.” The leather of his glove is cool against your flushed cheeks, forcing you to look back at him. “Now speak.” The command is low and gritty, his hand tightening on your cheeks.
“The stuff looked like it was worth the caps. I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you! And maybe I didn’t feel like being pushed around for a few fucking hours and wanted to be alone. The whole world doesn’t revolve around you jackass!” You can’t stop the words from flowing from you, overcome with the nauseating mix of every flavor of frustration the damn finally broke and you wanted to give the Ghoul a piece of your mind. 
Your withered companion smiles, his pipe balanced between yellowed teeth, completely unphased by your lashing. He releases his grip on your face, as if pleased with your answer and grabs the jar of green herbs, rolling it over in his hand, examining it.
"Dont’cha know what'd happen to ya' if you got caught alone with this?" He asks, dodging any of your accusations. Despite the rusted lid he manages to unscrew it, a pungent unreal smell pours out, a blend of peppercorns, old wood, and earth.  A low growl of approval roused deep from him, ripping the now exhausted pipe from his mouth. 
“And what is it exactly?” You cross your arms at the Ghoul’s obvious deflection.
 He plucked a small cluster from the jar, crumpling it into his pipe. "Ain't seen any of this shit since New Reno." He mumbles, transfixed on the herb, ignoring your question. 
You lean towards him flicking his hat back pulling his attention from his newly packed pipe and back to you. “What is it?”
"Mary Jane." He spoke low and eyes lidded sparking the pipe and taking a long drag, the cherry glowing like a small sun. The cowboy savored the draw, holding the smoke in as long as he could, choking down a cough. On exhale, long tendrils of smoke pooled from his lips as he spoke. "Sweet, sweet Mary Jane." 
The Ghoul moved to sit next to you, his long legs kicked out in front of him as he reclined. As he took another long, greedy drag you couldn't help but watch, studying the way his marred lips perfectly sat around the mouthpiece of the pipe. The sickly sweet smell of the herb made you awful curious if it tasted anything like it smelled. After all, you had never seen the Ghoul this visibly distracted by anything besides his vials that kept him alive. 
 Curiosity is getting the better of you as you watch him take a draw. "Can I try?"
A deep rumble of a laugh reverberated through you. "Thought you ain't want none of my stupid chems." Pitching his voice higher mockingly. He adds to his teasing by directing the pungent smoke to your face, enveloping you in a musky haze.
You look away in embarrassment never once interested in the plethora of chems available in the wasteland yet here you were entranced by this sickly sweet smoke that came from the ghoul's pipe.
Another crackle of the pipe as you hear your companion take a long, slow draw. Gloved fingers find their way on either side of your cheek as he gently pulls you close to his lips. A small gasp escapes you, allowing a stream of earthy smoke to dance across your tongue. Heat races from your core to the tips of your ears. Your head swimming from the taste of Mary Jane dancing in tandem with the Ghoul’s softer, intimate touch
You tried hard to ignore your arousal. You are fighting off the desire to close the small gap between you and the monster but to your disappointment, he pulls away before you can act on your hormones. Instead, he places the tip of the pipe between your parted lips, the taste of him lingers on the wood. Strong arms swing your legs over his pinstriped lap forcing you to pivot your body to face him.
 "Now take a big long breath for me darlin’." He stares deep into your eyes, hunger still there as he watches intently ensuring you’re following his directions. The smoke burns its way down your throat to your chest, the taste is acrid adding to the unpleasant feeling. A gloved hand gently pulls the pipe away from your mouth deeming you’ve had enough. 
“Now hold.” The Ghoul’s hand moves to the small of your back, rubbing small circles. Your head grows fuzzier with every passing second that you hold your breath. 
“Breathe out.” He gently instructs, you listen eager to rid the burning smoke from your lungs.
"Good girl." It's damn near a whisper. The words travel down your body settling into your needy heat. 
The pipe meets your lips again, and you quickly pull more smoke into your lungs, igniting the bowl of the pipe to a cherry red. The sharp inhale shoots smoke to the back of your throat making you choke. Plumes pour from your nose and mouth setting your airway on fire. Your pathetic sputtering for air is greeted with a gentle hand rubbing your back. 
“Easy now darlin’. Don’t need you passin’ out on me.” He says, placing the pipe between his teeth, leaving his hands free to caress your thigh and back as you catch your breath. Whatever Mary Jane was made you feel warm and fuzzy, your eyelids fall a bit as you cradle into the feeling and sink into the Ghoul’s broad chest. Your head moved with the rise and fall of his chest as he smoked, enjoying the impossible closeness and reveling in his tender touch. One hand held onto your waist working to keep you upright and balanced in his lap, the other hand lazily kneaded the softness of your thigh. 
Touch starved, and dazed you spread you legs ever so slightly in hopes of a wandering hand. The warmth brought on by the Mary Jane mingled with the growing need in your core, your threadbare underwear soaked. A pitiful whimper escapes your lips when a hand dips lower, brushing your achingly still clothed mound, and your hips roll desperate for more pressure. 
"Feelin' alright there sweetheart?" The question punctuated with another plume of smoke. 
You don't bother to look up, yet the words to express your need are fleeting, swirling around in your mind, your tongue dumb. All you muster is another whimper. He tilts your head up and you greet him with a lidded dopey smile, taking some pleasure and pride in feeling his cock harden under you. 
"Now darlin', I need you to use your words." One evil, teasing finger trails the damp cloth of your pants, lingering on your clit in small circles. “If there’s somethin’ you’re wantin’ you just gotta ask.” The Ghoul’s voice is low and warm. He watches you writhe under his touch, soft pants leaving your lips as he continues to torture your needy cunt. 
Wordless, you take his hand and guide it under the waistband of your pants, cursing the barrier your underwear still posed. You could feel how hot his hand was even through the leather of his gloves as he cupped your soaked mound. His heartbeat picked up in your ear from your bold request, and much to your disappointment he removes his hand. Your eyes shoot up to glare at him and you watch as he sets the pipe aside before taking the tip of his glove between his teeth, pulling it off with ease to reveal his scarred hand which quickly returns to its place in your pants. The waistband of your underwear tightens as he wraps the fabric tightly around his fingers, threads popped in time with the crackle of the fire as the time worn fabric gave way. Dutiful fingers now at your bare wet slit worked their way up and down, teasing at the entrance to your needy hole. Marled lips find their way to your neck, peppering your sensitive skin with featherlight kisses pulling whisper like moans from you. Your hands slither around his neck creeping under the collar of his duster, nails digging into thick, pitted skin pulling him closer, swimming in the intoxicating scent of Mary Jane, tobacco, and leather. The kisses move up your neck, tracing your soft jawline up to your ear his breath warm against you.
“You smell like a bitch in heat.” The Ghoul growls in your ear, a rough finger dips into your entrance slowly drilling away at your sensitive spot. “Best keep quiet darlin’. Don’t want somethin’ findin’ us in such a compromisin’ position don’t we?” He nips your ear as a second finger joins the first, stretching you and pulling a loud moan from you. His fingers work at the soft spongey spot, your core twisting and flipping from every coax of his digits. Your legs are unable to still themselves as each motion brings you closer and closer to the long needed release your hips writhe in his lap unintentionally grinding on the cowboy’s achingly hard member. You don’t even notice his low groans of pleasure, enraptured in the intense euphoria he’s working you towards, your needy cunt tightening around him, as your pleasure reaches a crescendo, crying out in wanton ecstasy from the gunslinger’s skilled fingers. He moves his roughened hand to your clit, rubbing tight circles as you ride out your orgasm, head fuzzy from the chems you shared and drunk on orgasmic bliss. Your head falls into the rad-warm crook of the Ghoul’s neck, eyelids heavy and breathing shallow. 
‘Th-thank you, Sir.” You murmur nuzzling into him. 
“Call me Coop darlin’.” He says, planting a soft kiss on your head. He pulls his hand away from your pants inspecting the glistening mess on his fingers in the firelight. “Only makes sense, considerin’ our proper introduction.” Coop mutters to himself, licking your slick off his fingers, tasting his hard work. 
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candycandy00 · 3 days
Text
Extended Preview of my Gojo Cinderella fanfic (part one - it’ll probably have three parts). No smut in this preview but there’s definitely a lot in the actual fic! I’m aiming to post the first part tomorrow! Please let me know what you guys think!
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The crowds are bigger than usual today as you walk along the cobblestone street, carrying a bag of items you bought at the local market. You’re in a hurry to get home and start dinner before your stepmother gets angry. If you’re even a few minutes late, she’ll either take the rod to your arms or not allow you to eat. 
Someone in the crowd calls out, “Look, there he is!” Another voice, feminine, excitedly yells, “Prince Gojo!”
The sound of his name stops you cold in the middle of the street. You look out across the river of people, across the roadway reserved for carriages. On the opposite street, flanked by guards in crisp uniforms, you spot him. 
He’s difficult to miss. Taller than everyone else nearby, with stark white hair, flawless skin, and crystal blue eyes brighter than the sun. He’s smiling and waving at the people as he makes his way down the street. 
You can’t help stopping to watch, dinner be damned, because you and the prince have history. Even if you’re certain he doesn’t remember it. 
You were ten, he was twelve, and you didn’t even realize he was the prince. He’d introduced himself as Satoru when he found you ducked behind a set of stone steps leading to a flower shop in the town square. You had run away from your house after the first time your stepmother used a rod to beat welts into your arms and hands. You were crying, covered in marks and bruises, still grieving over the recent loss of your father. 
That’s when a radiant boy with an angelic smile appeared, asking you what was wrong. You were embarrassed to be seen that way, so you wiped your face and said you were fine. 
“You don’t look fine,” he’d said. “Want me to help you?”
You couldn’t fathom how a boy so close to your age could help you, but you were glad that someone wanted to. Soon after, you heard voices calling out the name he’d given you, and he blanched. “Ugh, that’s my nanny,” he said with a grimace. Then he looked straight at you with those beautiful clear eyes and said, “You ran away from home too, right? Let’s run away together!”
Satoru took your hand and pulled you out from behind the steps, dragging you along with him as he ran down the street. As a child, at that moment, you thought you were actually free of the abuse you endured at home. Satoru was going to take you far away, and you’d never come back. 
Of course, you were both children, so running away together meant making it to the edge of the woods and playing among the trees for a few hours. You held hands and danced beneath the shade of the forest canopy, chased a rabbit that refused to let you pet it, pretended to be a princess that he rescued from an imaginary ogre, and laughed together under the setting sun. 
It was the most wonderful day you’d ever had, until you both got hungry. When he suggested going back, your heart sank, but even at that age you understood the reality of your situation. 
Back in town, you stopped in front of a fancy boutique and looked through the display window. It was full of dazzling dresses, hats, and jewelry. But what drew your attention most was the pair of delicate glass slippers, with their shiny inlaid stones and lovely shape. 
Satoru stood beside you. “Do you like those?” 
“They’re beautiful,” you replied, staring at them longingly. You’d seen them there many times before, and you spent every available moment standing in front of that window, enjoying the view. 
Satoru disappeared, and a few seconds later a lady came to the other side of the window and retrieved the slippers. You watched in shock as Satoru walked out of the boutique with a package in his hands. He reached it to you. “Here. We probably won’t see each other again for a long time, but maybe these can cheer you up when I’m not around.”
You opened the package, already knowing yet not believing what was inside. Those beautiful shoes were in your hands! Even though you didn’t fully understand how valuable they were, you did grasp that not just anyone could walk in and buy them. “But… they cost a lot of money, don’t they?” 
He grinned. “That’s no problem for me. And I know they’re too big for you now, so when you’re older, and they fit you, come see me. I’ll make sure you never cry again!”
You hugged the shoes to your chest as you looked up at him. “How will I find you? Do you live nearby?”
He laughed. “Oh, you’ll find me. Trust me.”
At that moment, a royal guard appeared, looking a bit frazzled. “There you are! The whole castle is in a state of panic, Your Highness! Where have you been?”
Satoru shrugged. “I was just playing with my friend.”
The guard called to another passing guard, “I found Prince Gojo!”
Your eyes went wide as you realized exactly who you’d been playing with all day. As the guards led him away, he looked back at you over his shoulder and winked.
From that moment on, you have been deeply, madly, in love with Prince Gojo. 
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