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weemssapphic · 1 year

Text

I desire. And I crave.

part three

Jane Murdstone x fem!reader

series page

summary: Jane's recovery is going well. You are ecstatic for her, of course - but what does that mean for the future of your relationship?

words: ~4.3k, ao3 link

chapter-specific warnings: fluff, not really angst but maybe angst-adjacent?, nsfw (brief smut) - tribbing, cunnilingus

the final part to my lil three part series! i hope you enjoy <3

Jane’s recovery continues to go well. You spend nearly every waking moment with her, save for mealtimes (though, on occasion, you claim you aren’t feeling well and bring your own supper up to Jane’s room so that you can eat together - these are the most joyous evenings for you, being allowed to share in something so simple and domestic with Jane). Sometimes you even sleep in her bed - you make love into the night, muffling the sounds of your cries into the pillows, then fall asleep with Jane’s arm slung around your middle.

It is when Jane seems to have fully overcome the disease that your heart is the lightest - and yet somehow the heaviest - it has ever been.

The lightest, because seeing Jane up and about - with boundless energy, with her appetite back and a healthy glow about her - makes your heart sing. She is healthy and alive and everything feels normal again, and you are relieved beyond measure.

The heaviest, because it means that the two of you can no longer hide away in her chambers, indulging in your secret affair whenever it pleases you. There are places to go and people to see (and prying eyes to avoid), and what had felt exciting and new and yours suddenly causes you a twinge of worry.

You miss being able to touch Jane whenever you like. You miss the random moments of intimacy, the stolen kisses - you have to be so much more careful now. You miss calling Jane, Jane.

It is late in the evening - everyone else in the house has long since gone to sleep - and you are in your own bedroom. It is dark and you are curled up under the covers, but you cannot sleep - ever since you’ve felt the divine comfort of falling asleep in Jane’s arms, it has become much harder to fall asleep on your own.

Tonight, the feeling of missing Jane, that longing feeling that gnaws at your heart, is stronger than ever, and you slip out of your own bed and pad lightly down the hall to Jane’s room, careful to be quiet so that you don’t wake anyone else.

You open Jane’s door and slip inside her room. You are expecting to find her asleep in bed - what you don’t anticipate is that she is standing at the window, and that she doesn’t seem at all surprised by your visit. She simply turns her head towards you, her lips curling up into a wistful smile. Her face is illuminated by the moonlight that filters into the room - it casts a silvery glow over her skin. She looks like an angel in this light, youthful and sweet - that sense of longing grows stronger and you take a few strides across the room until you are standing in front of her.

Jane reaches down, cupping your cheek with her hand - it is warm and you lean into the touch, turning your face so that you can kiss her palm.

“Hello, little dove,” she whispers, ducking her head and pressing her lips to yours in a tender kiss that makes your heart flutter.

“Jane,” you whisper back, loving the way her name rolls off your tongue. Jane seems to love it, too, for a grin stretches across her face from ear to ear and she rewards you with another kiss, longer and deeper than the last.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be awake,” you murmur. “Are you well?”

“I am very well,” she replies. Then her expression turns serious. “I have something that I would like to speak with you about.”

Your stomach churns at the solemn tone to her words, and you can’t help but chew nervously at your bottom lip. “Is everything alright, has something happened?”

“No no, it’s nothing like that. I have… a proposition, of sorts. Something that I value your opinion on.” Her tone has turned more gentle, which confuses you further.

“I’m not sure I should have an opinion on anything,” you start - you are still Jane’s maid, after all, and you cannot imagine her requiring the opinion of a lowly servant.

“Nonsense, girl,” Jane tuts. Her eyes flash dangerously, impatiently. “This is something that I very well require your opinion on - or rather, your consent.”

“My consent?” You furrow your brow - you are even more wholly confused than before.

“Come, sit with me.” Jane takes your hand and leads you to her bed. She sits primly at the edge, and you take your place beside her, wringing your hands in your lap as you wait for her to speak.

“As you are aware, I have taken a great liking to you-”

You cannot help but snort at the understatement of the century - the woman nearly died as a result of her love for you - then quickly cover your mouth in horror at having made such an ugly sound.

Jane flushes, briefly averting her eyes before continuing. “I have not felt this sort of affection for anyone in a long time. What we have goes beyond the bounds of a professional relationship. I have gathered that the feeling is mutual?”

You are sure she knows the answer to this question - she should know - so the fact that she is seeking confirmation amuses you greatly. You smile, suddenly feeling a bit shy, and nod - you still wonder where Jane is going with this.

“It has become… increasingly difficult, following my recovery, to carry on in a professional manner. I no longer wish for you to be my maid, nor do I wish to hide in shame in my own home.”

“I understand.” Your heart begins to pound - you somehow feel you are about to hear either the best or the worst news of your life, with no in between.

“I spoke with my brother this afternoon. We decided it best for my health that I move permanently to our summer cottage by Windermere, and that my lady’s maid accompanies me to act as a caretaker.”

You are still confused. “But you are fully recovered, are you not?”

Jane smiles wryly. “My brother is, fortunately, still unaware of what ailed me. Of course it would not be in anyone’s best interests if I were to fall ill again.”

Suddenly, it clicks. Jane has found a way for the two of you to be together - to live freely, bound by your love for each other. Butterflies spread out their satin wings in your belly, fluttering madly about, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

“Will you do me the honor of accompanying me?” Jane’s face is an impassive mask - she holds her chin high and gazes down at you with an expression bordering disinterest - but you can tell from the slight tremble in her voice that she is worried you will say no.

You won’t, of course. You could never say no to Jane - stubborn, brash, haughty Jane - beautiful, witty, thoughtful Jane.

“Yes, Jane,” you breathe out. “Yes.”

A smile breaks out across Jane’s face and she surges forward to capture your lips with her own. She deepens the kiss almost immediately, licking into your mouth - you let out a soft whimper at the urgency she shows. Her hands grasp your waist and she lays back against the pillows, pulling you with her. You rest on top of her - her arms are wrapped possessively around your middle, keeping you in place.

You pull back from the kiss to catch your breath, propping yourself up on your elbows so that you can look down at Jane. The way she is staring at you - as if you are the sole reason for her world continuing to turn - makes your breath catch in your throat.

“When do we leave?” you finally ask, playing with the loose plait in Jane’s hair.

“Edward is arranging travel for us for Saturday.”

Three days. Three days before you get to spend the rest of your life at Jane’s side, as her lover rather than her maid. Three days before you can cease to worry about keeping quiet, before you can steal a kiss whenever you wish and openly admire Jane as you please - the thought makes you light-headed and giddy.

Jane’s fingers curl in your hair, nails scratching lovingly at the nape of your neck, before she yanks your head back and attaches her lips to your throat. She kisses and sucks - gently, not hard enough to leave a bruise - you can tell she is holding back.

Her lips move lower, down your sternum, finding the hem of your nightgown. She unbuttons a few buttons then tugs it down, freeing one of your breasts - her tongue finds your nipple, soothing its velvety surface over the small bud until it hardens. You let out a soft moan of encouragement and Jane scrapes her teeth harshly over the bud, sending a shockwave of pain through your body that morphs into pleasure somewhere along the way.

Jane lets go of your nipple and her hands come to rest on your waist, flipping you over so that you are on your back and she is hovering over you. You yelp at the suddenness of the movement and there is a flash of warning in Jane’s eyes.

“If you aren’t quiet, I’ll have to punish you - no one will be able to hear your cries out in the countryside.” Her smile is dark, sickeningly sweet - you can tell she is picturing herself carrying out your punishment. Her hand taps your outer thigh, a warning - you feel heat pooling in your belly at the thought.

“If you’re a good girl, however, I will show you the greatest pleasure imaginable. Tell me, little dove, can you be good for me?” Her voice drops an octave as she speaks and you feel a knot beginning to form in your belly.

Your breathing stutters in response and you nod frantically - this earns you a light slap to your upper thigh, not harsh enough to really be painful (and Jane seems insistent on being as quiet as possible), but you feel a sticky wetness coat your inner thighs anyway.

“Words, girl,” Jane growls threateningly.

“Yes, mistress,” you breathe out.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I can be a good girl for you.”

Jane appraises you for a moment with a raised eyebrow. She seems pleased with your response and pushes your nightgown up over your waist, before hiking her own over her hips. She straddles you and you think she might crawl over your face and have you pleasure her from below again, but then she lowers herself onto your stomach, smearing her juices over your skin. You gasp - she is soaked, and your own arousal trickles down your thighs.

She rolls her hips, looking down at you with dark, hooded eyes - her gaze is piercing, filled with lust - you cannot tear your eyes away from hers. There is something deeply erotic about the way that Jane meets your gaze as she pleasures herself on your stomach, and you rest your hands on her waist, feeling each thrust and roll of her body against yours.

Her lips part to let out shallow breaths - she is getting closer - and she smiles wickedly as she maneuvers herself further down your body, rubbing herself against you. You watch her questioningly - then you feel her spread your legs and rub herself against your clit and you have to bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep from crying out.

Jane bucks her hips erratically, holding onto your waist to steady herself as she comes - a soft, strangled cry leaves her lips, then her jaw goes slack. She looks so beautiful - there are beads of sweat rolling down her forehead, her eyes are squeezed shut, her chest is flushed and heaving. She grips at your waist with surprising strength as she rides out her high, and you feel her arousal dripping out of her, mixing with your own.

“Sweet girl,” she rasps once she has stilled, her breathing still labored. She reaches between your legs, gathering up the mixture of your arousal - you squirm as her fingers brush against your heat, you are still very turned on - and bringing her fingers to your mouth.

You close your lips around her digits, groaning at the heavenly taste - your walls clench around nothing, desperate for your own release.

“Please,” you mumble. Jane smirks down at you, before sliding down your body and lining up her face with your cunt. You watch her, entranced - her eyes flutter shut as she inhales deeply. It embarrasses you a little, but she seems to be aroused by your scent - her eyes snap open and meet yours, and she looks starved. She nips at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, smirking when you flinch.

You writhe and push your hips towards her, and she relents, her tongue lapping at your folds before reaching your clit. Jane hums - the vibrations feel heavenly on that sensitive little bundle of nerves, and you swallow back a moan.

Jane is unrelenting in her devotion to bringing you to your peak, and your orgasm quickly washes over you. You work hard not to make any noise, tears spilling out of your eyes as your thighs tremble and wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

You barely realize that Jane has crawled up next to you until you feel her thumb caressing your cheek, her warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“Little dove.” The nickname makes you smile, and you reach out your arms. Jane looks confused for a moment, but scoots closer nonetheless. Wrapping your arms around the older woman, you pull her flush against you. The thin fabric of your nightgowns separates you tonight - that makes you smile, as you realize that in three days, you won’t need them anymore at all - it will just be the two of you, always.

Soon, Jane will shoo you from her bed. You will insist on helping her clean herself up, before padding back to your room, careful not to get caught - you will fall asleep, alone, in your own bed. Perhaps you will hug a pillow and pretend it is Jane. Then, come morning, you will pass by Emily on your way to Jane’s chambers - Emily will greet you, and you will smile back at her, making some remark about how you are running late and how cruel, merciless Miss Murdstone will have your head if you linger too long. You will enter Jane’s chambers and the older woman will be waiting for you - as soon as the door closes, she will pull you in for a kiss, and you will take your time helping her get ready for the day. You will go about your duties and nod courteously when you pass her in the hallways, until you are needed again.

It has been your daily routine for the past few weeks - a routine that, in just three days time, will no longer be necessary.

For now, you hold Jane close and stroke her hair, listening to the deep rhythm of her slow breaths - enjoying the peace that her presence gifts you with.

~~~

Jane has had enough - enough of carrying a secret around her own house, as though loving you is shameful, something to be disgusted by, rather than the most precious thing that has ever happened to her.

She is nothing if not determined, however, and she knows her younger brother has a soft spot for her. It is no surprise to her when, with little convincing, he agrees to allow her to move permanently to the family’s summer cottage, with her lady’s maid as a caretaker. She doesn't know if he is aware of the nature of your relationship - she has her suspicions, but as long as he keeps quiet then, frankly, she doesn’t care.

You show up in Jane’s chambers that evening - though unannounced, from the way that you’d looked at her when you’d finished plaiting her hair for bed, she had her suspicions that you’d stop by. She can tell you haven’t been sleeping well since you’ve been relegated permanently back to your own room following her recovery, and she can hardly blame you - she feels much more at ease with your steady breathing to lull her to sleep.

When Jane asks you if you’ll accompany her, she feels anxious - this is not something she feels often, and she loathes it. She feels as though her entire future rests in your delicate hands - it is an unfamiliar feeling to her, that another person may have this much power over her. She cannot help the slight tremble that laces her voice and it disgusts her so that she nearly considers taking everything back.

But then you say “yes”. The relief that washes over her in that moment is cathartic in nature - she feels almost childish in the excitement that suddenly buzzes through her entire body. Her lips find yours in an instant and she pulls you on top of her, an intoxicating sort of possessiveness clouding her mind as she wraps you in her embrace.

When you pull back for air, Jane can see the adoration and love written plainly across your face - she still doesn’t understand how it could be directed at her, but she has decided not to question it.

She wants so badly to mark you where everyone can see - to show the world that you are hers and hers alone. She shows restraint - she is proud of herself for it. Three more days - then she can litter you in black and blue marks wherever she sees fit.

The way the two of you make love this evening is different somehow - Jane feels as though she is baring her soul to you when your eyes meet as she rides you, but she finds she doesn’t mind as much as she thought she would. Instead, she feels exhilarated, able to express a yearning for intimacy that she didn’t know she possessed. She finally feels seen - and it doesn’t scare her. She doesn’t trust many people, but somehow she feels she can trust you, and it is that fact, more so than the steady grinding of her hips or even the slight power play, that brings her over the edge this time.

When you move to wrap your arms around her, she finds herself conflicted - a vulnerability is creeping up inside of her, and it makes her want to shut you out. But the craving for your warmth is too great and she gives in, allowing you to envelop her completely - it is a feeling that brings her great comfort, and she allows herself to drown in it.

~~~

Three days. Three days that pass in a blur - there are belongings to pack and loose ends to tie up: company calls and Jane finds herself exhausted and on edge as she fields questions about her health and her future. What gets her through is what waits for her at the end of those three days: the promise of a lifetime with you.

On Saturday morning, Jane is both excited and nervous - she is awake much earlier than usual and finds herself pacing about her room, jumping when your usual knock sounds in the silence of the space.

“Good morning, Jane.” You beam up at her with a smile so infectious that Jane cannot help but smile back. It assuages her worries a little bit - at least you don’t seem to regret your decision to accompany her.

Jane is silent as you help her dress. As she sits at her vanity, watching you pin up her hair (your brows furrow slightly in concentration, and Jane finds it so cute that she wants to kiss you senseless) the worries return - a persistent gnawing in her stomach, a constricting of her lungs. She wonders if you’ve only said yes because you are paid to assist her, if you realize that saying yes means you will be stuck in a cottage with an old spinster like her for the rest of your life.

You are taking your time with her hair this morning, pinning each wave methodically, allowing your fingers to dance along her scalp after each pin that you’ve placed - this makes Jane feel even more on edge.

“I’m not paying you to dawdle,” she hisses, immediately regretting her harshness when you jump back as if burned.

“I apologize, milady,” you say automatically, meeting Jane’s gaze in the mirror - your eyes are wide and your cheeks blaze scarlet. Her stomach drops.

“Jane,” she whispers. You blink slowly, and Jane is now certain she must look insane - she certainly feels it. Ever since you have called her by her first name, she no longer cares for the smug sense of superiority that milady or Miss Murdstone bring her - at least not from you. There is an intimacy in your use of “Jane”, a closeness that she has come to crave. “Call me Jane.”

You pause, and she hates the silence - she feels she may drown in it.

“Well then, Jane, what are you paying me for?” You raise your chin - your voice wavers slightly, but you glare at Jane and she feels a deep, burning shame bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

Another uncomfortable silence fills the room and Jane is left, for possibly the first time in her life, speechless. When she finally speaks, she can hear the uncertainty in her own voice and it makes her sick to her stomach.

“I… do not wish to pay you at all.” At your raised eyebrow, she takes a deep breath and continues. “I wish for us to be equals in our new home. I simply… wonder, whether or not you’ve put due thought into this decision. I do not wish you to regret your choice.”

Your face softens and Jane finds herself looking away. She has rarely afforded anyone such honesty about her feelings and it causes her great unease. Your hands rest on her shoulders and squeeze gently, causing a shiver to travel down her spine.

“I have thought about my decision, Jane.” The emphasis on her name causes her heart to clench, and she glances up briefly to regard you in the mirror. “Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than to accompany you. I would do so as your lady’s maid if it afforded me the chance to be by your side, though I would, of course, prefer to come as your lover.”

Your cheeks are pink but your voice is steady, and Jane feels her heart thundering against her ribcage.

“I love you,” she whispers - the words feel foreign on her tongue, and she realizes she hasn’t voiced them properly until this moment.

“I love you,” you whisper back, clearly trying to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your entire face - then, mercifully, you turn your attention back to her hair, pinning up the last waves before placing her bonnet on her head and tying it in place.

“There. It suits you, you know,” you say with a smile, and Jane waves a hand in front of her face, her cheeks warming. She is not accustomed to being complimented, and you do so often - it makes her go weak in the knees, and she is glad she is currently seated.

“You flatter me,” she murmurs, turning in her seat to cup your cheek and meet your gaze. “Will you give me a moment, little dove?”

“Of course. I’ll just take your things to the carriage.” You lean forward and press your lips to Jane’s - your lips are soft and warm and the kiss is chaste, and, for the first time that she can remember, Jane feels wholly loved.

You offer her a dazzling grin before taking her suitcase and exiting the room, giving Jane a moment to collect herself before she follows you downstairs. Her brother and the rest of the servants wait near the front door.

Jane watches you bid the servants farewell. She tries to hide the soft smile that threatens to creep up on her face - you are kind and sincere as you wish the others well, and Jane feels proud that, out of everyone in the world, you have chosen her.

She hums dismissively when the servants curtsey towards her - she is too busy watching you step into the carriage, and she has never cared much for them anyway. If anything, she is glad to be rid of their incompetence - she will fare much better if it is only you by her side.

Edward says he will visit soon, and she nods absentmindedly, saying goodbye and ducking her head to step into the carriage. The driver closes the door behind her and she glances out the window - the servants look happy to see her go, but she cannot find it in herself to care. Not when her own heart is threatening to burst at the seams with joy.

Jane finds any lingering doubts dissipating as she feels the carriage begin to move. She meets your gaze - you are smiling giddily at her and she feels her heart swell in response. You place your hand on the bench between the two of you, palm up, and wiggle your fingers. Jane offers you a small smile, barely perceptible - bordering on a smirk, really - she is unsure how to properly express her elation, but the giggle she receives in response indicates that you understand. She peels off a black glove and places her bare hand in your own, lacing your fingers together. The warm touch of your skin on hers grounds her as she looks out the window, feeling - for the very first time since her youth - euphoria at the thought of her future.

tags: @dianneking @yourlocaldisneyvillain @anti-bright-places @mrs-hilmarson @rainbow-hedgehog @s-c-rambledegggs @sapphicsbeloved @eveymay @scream-queenlover @orchidsshine @brienneswife

thank you for reading and sharing this series, i really enjoyed writing it and i hope you liked it as well <3 any and all feedback means the world to me!

#jane murdstone #jane murdstone x reader #i desire. and i crave.#i desire. and i crave. series #the personal history of david copperfield (2019)

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these-written-reveries · 11 months

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ok but like, the post you reblogged with the pics of ledger putting the makeup on,, imagine you and J getting ready for the day and sharing the bathroom together while he's putting his makeup on. idk just sounds cute and domestic uwu 💖

Omg nonnie, I was literally thinking these thoughts the moment I saw those pics! I knew I had to write them down, so here ya go! 💖

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Getting Ready With J (Headcanons)

*Inspired by this post

‣ Pairing: Ledger!Joker/Jack Napier x GN!Reader

‣ Genre: fluff, domestic bliss w/cute deadly clown man

‣ Warnings: None!

‣ Notes: Besides the rare occasion of J spreading some daytime chaos across the city of Gotham, most of his work would be done at night. Because of that, I don't think he would always feel the need to put on his makeup early in the day if he's just gonna be at home—especially after he's reached a point of being able to drop his mask around you (literally & figuratively). That said, I can see this situation playing out in 2 different ways...

L!Joker/Jack Napier Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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« Scenario 1: » ♡ He and you get ready together in the morning/afternoon.

‣ Maybe you have work or some errands to run, or you're simply getting ready to spend the day lounging comfortably at home.

‣ As for J, he has some important "business" to attend to.

‣ The two of you start by brushing your teeth together, J trying to make you laugh the whole time just to watch you struggle not to spit toothpaste everywhere. He gets a good kick out of this, a shit eating grin on his face as he continues to brush his teeth.

‣ You both share the counter space, your self-care items scattered around as you carry on with your routines. There are very little words spoken during this time, but you still communicate through your own secret language; sometimes being able to read each other's minds just by sharing a simple glance.

‣ You both know each other's routine so well that you hand each other the items you need next before either of you ask for it.

‣ On days where J is particularly clingy, he's glued to your side, having such a strong need to be touching you at all times—even if this means just barely touching arms while you get ready in the mirror.

‣ If your daily routine includes brushing your hair, he totally enjoys doing this for you. So much so that he's now in the habit of grabbing your brush and gently running it through your hair while you do something else. He often takes a little longer than necessary, but that's only because he loves to feel the beautiful texture of your hair.

‣ You sneakily give each other occasional kisses on the cheek or anywhere your lips can reach as you continue getting ready. You always love to see the small blush that creeps over J's bare face in the mirror after you've given him a smooch and maybe a gentle caress on his back that just happened to drift a bit lower 😉

‣ Sometimes you play music together while you get ready. A playlist of songs both you and him like. He loves it when you sing or dance to your favorite songs, or even to some of his favorite songs that have started to grow on you too. If you're quick about it, you might be able to catch him looking at you fondly through the mirror just before he looks away and pretends to be focused on something else. Depending on his mood that day, you might get to hear him hum along to some songs as well.

‣ If you wear makeup, you also do this part together. If not, you sit on the counter or hug him from behind while he does his own (he much prefers the latter).

‣ If you ask, he'll definitely let you do his makeup for him. He loves to just sit back, relax, and soak up your touch during this time. He particularly enjoys the part where you draw the smile over his lips and scars with red lipstick and the concentrated look on your face while you do it.

‣ Beware to makeup wearers, Jack will steal your red lipstick if he's suddenly run out or lost his! And he's definitely not gentle with his application. But it's alright, he'll steal buy you a new one!

‣ If you choose to sit back and watch, you'll witness him create his personal masterpiece with nothing but some lipstick, greasepaint, and his fingers. He only uses one brush and that is to dab on a little bit of setting powder at the end (a trick he learned, thanks to you), though if he's in a rush, he'll sometimes skip this part. After doing it for so long, it takes him less than 5 minutes. But he'll often go slower just so he can spend some extra time with his love.

‣ When he's all done, he chases you out of the bathroom, threatening to cover your face with sloppy red kisses. In the end, he settles for a small peck on the lips before the two of you part ways for the day.

« Scenario 2: » ♡ Darkness has settled over Gotham city, which means it's time for J to clock in.

‣ You're already settling down for the evening when J gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. You're right on his tail, following in his footsteps. He smirks when he realizes and playfully comes to a halt, just to get you to bump into him. When you whine/pout over this, he coos teasingly at you and gives you a kiss on the forehead before taking your hand and leading you the rest of the way there.

‣ You perch yourself on the counter or the toilet while he sits in a chair in front of the mirror. You watch him work, admiring the focused look in his eyes and the way he contorts his face to apply the paint to his skin.

‣ He occasionally glances over at you and scoffs at the heart-eyes you're giving him.

‣ Don't you dare give him a flirty compliment unless you want to see him roll his eyes and brush it off all while trying to hide his flustered smile (do it, do it, do it).

‣ The two of you talk about whatever is on your minds and J finds himself lingering on the black around his eyes for far longer than usual just to keep listening to your sweet voice.

‣ Once again, if you ask, he'll let you finish his makeup for him. This time he'll have you sit in his lap while you do it, giving your thighs a light squeeze and running his thumbs over your soft skin.

‣ Upon finishing, you press a little kiss to the tip of his nose and fix his hair a bit. He watches you with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, reaching up to cup your face in his hands. You stop what you're doing as he pulls you in for a kiss that speaks on behalf of words left unspoken.

♡ J loves you. And he cherishes these little moments with you more than you know.

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‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for L!Joker/Jack Napier, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

‣ Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @alittlesmartcookie

#ledger!joker #ledger!joker x reader #ledger!joker x y/n #ledger!joker fanfiction #ledger!joker fluff #joker x reader #joker x y/n #joker fanfiction #jack napier #jack napier x reader #jack napier x y/n #jack napier fanfiction #ledger!joker headcanons #jack napier headcanons #l!joker #k.answers #kalistawrites

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winterbanner · 2 years

Text

Bruce Banner SFW Alphabet <3

Hey there! This is for my fellow Bruce Banner lovelies.

Warnings: You Will Fall In Love <3

Tags: Lots of Fluff and Some Hurt/Comfort

A/N: Tbh this is a repost. I got sad because for some reason it wasn't showing up under the tags :/ Anyway I hope you enjoy and I plan to do Bucky's next :)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Bruce definitely isn’t down with super intimate PDA. The thought of drawing attention to himself in public makes him nervous, so when around others he prefers to keep things simple. He’ll almost always be holding your hand, especially when in large crowds. In private, however, Bruce is never one to shy away from affection.

I would definitely say that his love language is acts of service. He is constantly doing little things for you throughout the day, such as making you coffee when you seem tired, or running your towel through the dryer for when you get out of the shower. He also is never opposed to a good cuddle sesh.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

What Bruce looks for most in a friend in normalcy and understanding. There’s nothing that makes him feel more insecure than when those around him act as if they are walking on eggshells. He hates the thought of making others feel afraid, and when with those he is closest to he would prefer to be able to forget about the Hulk, even if just for a moment.

The friendship would probably begin with some sort of common interest/ activity. Maybe you are a fellow avenger or simply just a lab assistant working in the tower. Bruce isn’t one to go out of his way to socialize, so you’d probably approach him first. Honestly, all this man wants is some respect, and to see someone who treats him as if he isn’t some sort of ticking time bomb.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Before meeting you, Bruce was never one to go out of his way to receive or give any sort of physical touch. It was something he had deprived himself of ever since the initial accident, and the thought of somehow hurting someone he loved made him genuinely sick to his stomach.

When you began to initiate it, however, it was as if some sort of switch flipped. Bruce realized how starved he was for your touch, and now its as of he craves it. He genuinely melts whenever you run your fingers through his hair, or snuggle into his side after a long day. There is nothing else that makes him feel more loved, and more human. So, yes my boy Bruce loves a good cuddle session. (whether that be a as the big or little spoon)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Bruce is the male-wife of our dreams. Genuinely this man wants nothing more than to make a home with you; a safe place where he can spend the rest of his life. Even in the tower he takes on a more “homemaking” role. He is an excellent cook and baker, who is constantly trying out new recipes on date nights.

Kids, on the other hand, are a more sensitive subject. He wants to be a father; he wants to be able to have a family with you. When I say this man wants it, I mean he yearns for it. After his experiences as a child, however, he can’t help but be apprehensive. He is absolutely terrified of being a terrible father, but he knows deep down that he would never ever be able to hurt hs family the way his own father had.

In addition to that, he also infertile due to the radiation. He oftentimes gets pretty insecure about it; wishing he could provide you with a biological child. You reassure him, however, that you don’t want kids unless you are raising them with him, and that there are plenty of other options you can use to become parents <3

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would leave for your safety. It would be abrupt, as to not elongate your suffering. He would tell you face to face with tears in his eyes, before picking up his things and leaving without a trace.

Bruce wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he truly thought he was putting you in harms way. So, you would probably never see him again, mostly out of his own fear that he wouldn’t be able to stay away if he did. He’d spend the rest of his life wishing he could’ve had you, and that he could’ve kept you safe.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As I previously mentioned, Bruce loves the idea of having a somewhat “traditional” and loving family. He would 1000% want to make you his wife, but with his own insecurities surrounding the Hulk he would definitely wait a while. He isn’t the kind of guy to rush into things, but if he were completely honest, he would say that he wanted to marry you much sooner.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

When I say that Bruce is gentle, I mean gentle. I think this man would go into a state of pure guilt if he ever caused you some sort of physical or emotional harm. His words are always sweet and honest, and he absolutely never raises his voice. (A practice you repeat to him in return.) He is the kind of guy, to softly say your name when he walks into the room as to not scare you.

His touches are always very light and tender. He will oftentimes ask if he is squeezing you too tight, or if you’re uncomfortable. He loves holding you, and he loves being held in return. Everything he says and does is done with gentleness, especially when it comes to moments when he is comforting you. When you feel down or if you get hurt on a mission, I swear this man goes into caregiver mode asap. I’m talking constant check ins, bringing you snacks, extended cuddle sessions and so much more.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Although Bruce isn’t one for PDA, he is known to give you a quick peck on the cheek while out running errands or with friends. When alone, however, he is much more generous. In more simple (and less heated) moments he is prone to forehead and/or temple kisses. During make-out seshes, on the other hand… Let’s just say this man knows how to use his tongue. He holds your body close to his own, his calloused hands gripping your waist, or cupping your cheek. There’s never really any biting or teeth involved. Like I said earlier, everything Bruce does has a certain level of gentleness to it.

As for his preferences, I think Bruce would be one for cheek kisses. He likes the simplicity and the intimacy of them. There’s nothing that makes him feel more loved, than when you waltz into the lab to tell him something and give him a quick peck on the cheek; leaving his cheeks bright red in your wake. (Tony teases him mercilessly about it lmfao)

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Bruce is an absolute angel around kids. He loves talking with them; sitting in amazement as he takes in all of the ways in which they experience the world. He loves to teach them things, to admire their innocence.

When Morgan was born Bruce took to the role of “uncle” immediately. Spoiling her rotten, taking her museums, indulging in tea parties. He wanted to give her everything he never got as a kid. Besides, it’s good practice for the future ;)

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

My man Bruce is most definitely a night owl, so let’s just say mornings aren’t exactly his forte. So, most of the time he uses every ounce of energy he has to attempt to keep you in bed as long as possible. Every time you try to get up, he will just make his grip tighter, until eventually you just give in and spend the rest of the morning cuddled under bedsheets.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Bruce is not exactly skilled when it comes to keeping track of time in the lab. So, most nights you find yourself having to remind him to come to bed, his eyes weary from hours staring at screens and calculations. Before you came around he didn't even have a sleep schedule, he just worked until he fell out from exhaustion. Now, however, he wants nothing more than to fall asleep beside you, so his schedule has vastly changed.

He likes to be touching you in some form when sleeping. His favorite position is when your arms are wrapped around his waist with your head buried in his chest. Having you there keeps him grounded. So, when the inevitable night terrors do come, he wakes up knowing everything’s okay.

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

I feel like Bruce is definitely a more private person. He already feels a bit inferior to his coworkers/friends and in his mind piling on a sob story would just make things worse. So, instead, he just bottles it all up inside until eventually he can’t hold it in anymore. He has been through a lot in his life, so much that you didn’t even know about until you found him sitting in his lab with tears streaming down his face. It was then that he opened up, after he grew to feel so incredibly overwhelmed. You sat upon his desk, with him standing between your legs wrapped in your arms.

Over time he’s learn to come to you more often. When he’s had a rough day and finds himself in bed with his head resting on your chest. He’s learned to share his emotions with you, and it takes a huge weight off of his shoulders.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Due to Bruce’s intense level of emotional control he is extremely patient. His voice will never raise, and he certainly would never do anything to hurt you emotionally or physically. He grew up in a household where his father was constantly in a state of rage and his mother took the brunt of it all. So, when it comes to his own relationship you will often find that he is too passive, to the point where he won’t voice his own opinions just to avoid an argument. With time you both begin to value open communication. If there is an argument it is always calm, due to the fact that you know the other means well.

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

Bruce is observant as hell. He is the type to constantly be taking mental notes of your routine, people you mention, things you like etc. When it comes to being a good listener Bruce reigns supreme, and combining that with his superior memory he remembers everything pretty well.

If he ever catches you staring at something you like in the store, he oftentimes will go back to buy it for you. If you mention your favorite food, he will go out of his way to find the best recipe and make it for you. My boy just wants you to feel loved.

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

The morning after you first said the L-word. It had been an ordinary night-in; nothing extraordinary, but you said it anyway. Bruce could tell you meant it, the sincerity of it all bringing tears to his eyes.

While that moment may be another one of his favorites, the morning after still takes the cake. There was something about having you snuggled up next to him, the morning sun peaking through the window, illuminating your sleeping form. You loved him, just as much as he had loved you for months now. He felt secure knowing that this wouldn’t be the last morning he would have you by his side. This was a forever type of thing, and he promised himself he would never let you go.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Bruce is definitely protective. At first his main priority was keeping you safe from the Hulk; ensuring that you wouldn’t be victim to his destruction. Now, however, after a long period of self-reflection it became apparent that the Big Guy wasn’t a threat to you. In fact, he was obsessed with you.

Now, whenever you’re in a risky situation or around people Bruce doesn’t trust, he uses the Hulk as a scare tactic. All he has to do is keep you close to his side, flash his adversaries a green-eyed stare and watch them stumble away in fear. This is part of the reason Bruce has grown to appreciate his other half. He knows he can protect you; he can keep you safe from anything and everything.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Words cannot describe how thankful Bruce is that you love him. It’s a decision he vows to never make you regret, and so let’s just say he treats you like a fucking princess.

As I stated earlier, one of Bruce’s most prevalent love languages is acts of service. He is constantly doing little things for you, such as cooking you homemade meals after missions. In his lab, he keeps a little couch in the corner just for you, with snacks and books and soft blankets. This man just adores you okay?!

His gifts and dates are always super meaningful for big occasions, such as anniversaries or birthdays etc. Even on the most random days he will show up with some little thing you mentioned in blithe conversation, or he will set up a candle-lit dinner for the both of you to share.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Overworking for sure. He puts a lot of pressure on himself to succeed in his work, whether that be in the lab or out on missions. He works himself until he can’t physically work anymore. He still manages to find time to do things for you in the midst of it all, but oftentimes that means he is putting in even more effort and energy than humanly possible. He exhausts himself, and there have been more than a few occasions where you come in to pick up the pieces.

I think Bruce would also be a pretty insecure guy. I mean, he is constantly surrounded by billionaires, super-soldiers, and literal Nordic gods for fuck sake. He often feels a bit inferior, and adding Hulk to the equation certainly doesn’t make things any better. So, he will oftentimes make demeaning comments about himself, or shy away from public activities with is teammates.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Bruce likes to dress nice, but comfortable. While his hair may be a bit unruly at times, he likes to be clean-shaven and clean in general lol. It makes him feel more human, especially since his work requires him to be in less-than-flattering situations. He definitely isn’t vain, but he cares about his own basic upkeep.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. You’ve become Bruce’s refuge; a safe place away from everything life has thrown his way. When the accident first happened and Bruce was forced to go on the run, he has resigned himself to a life of pain and isolation. He never thought he would be able to reenter society again, let alone find love. He doesn’t want to go back into that dark place again. He loves being loved. More specifically, he loves being loved by you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Bruce is always the one to look after you after missions. Once arriving home you get a full-scale check-up in his lab, on your own personal exam table. While yes, there is in fact an entire medical wing you could go to; Bruce doesn’t trust it. He has to make sure you’re safe and healthy before he can finally breathe again.

Also, Bruce gets really upset when you cry. He is super attentive when it comes to your emotions, and he will genuinely drop anything to be with you. When he sees you upset its like his little genius heart shatters. If you were ever seriously struggling emotionally or with your mental health in general, he would be the most supportive, patient and wonderful boyfriend in the entire fucking world. He knows what it's like to feel low, and he would do anything in his power to help you not feel that way.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Rudeness in general. If you gave off a cold or unkind nature Bruce would be completely turned off. Enemies to lovers is not an option for him. If he sees you being rude to service workers, or making genuinely mean-hearted comments about his friends, he wouldn’t ever consider a romantic relationship with you. He sees enough of that bullshit on a day-to-day basis for his liking; he needs someone soft and kind to make up for that.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Hulk transformations take an immense toll on Bruce’s body. So, when he gets home from a mission, he feels as if he is on the brink of passing out from exhaustion. He can barely stay awake as he showers and gets the both of you checked over for injuries. Afterwards, he passes out on your bed, completely snuggled up, your arms wrapped around him tightly. He can stay like this for a full day if need be, sound asleep and safe with you beside him. After going through that all Bruce wants is to feel safe, small and human. And the best way to do that is to have you hold him close until he falls asleep.

#bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner fanfiction #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x you #marvel #avengers #tony stark #bruce banner appreciation #bruce banner fluff #hurt/comfort #sfw alphabet

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solitaireships · 1 year

Note

How about 🍬 for whoever you feel like writing for?

~ heart-of-aspiration 📖

Emoji prompts: 🍬 - something sweet

So this one ended up taking longer than I thought it would because I ended up getting carried away. It's about something sweet in multiple meanings of the word- both literally with Bruce doing some baking and emotionally with some cute domestic things

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1380 words

Divider by straywords

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” Alex asks from where she perches on one of the wooden stools in Wayne Manor’s kitchen.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Bruce asks, closing the oven door.

“Bruce, you are the love of my life and incredibly talented at so many things. But cooking has never been your strong suit,” she points out.

There’s a reason that Alfred used to do most of the cooking. With him gone, Bruce and Alex have both stepped up to do more, and for once in her life Alex is pretty sure that she’s a better cook than someone. Bruce can handle the simple stuff just fine, but somehow even with a recipe his meals always seem just the slightest bit off. And that’s assuming he doesn’t end up accidentally burning or undercooking anything.

“It’s not cooking, it’s baking,” Bruce corrects.

“Right. Two completely different things that you surely won’t have similar problems with,” Alex says.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “I have this handled, love, this isn’t the first time I’ve made cookies. And when they’re good, you can tell me about how sorry you are for underestimating me.”

“Alright,” Alex relents.

If nothing else, watching Bruce mix the cookie dough has been fun. Alex always thinks that he’s handsome, but there’s something about how he looks with the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up to his elbows. There’s a little bit of flour spattered against the black material of his shirt, an accident from him mixing the ingredients together a little too quickly.

It’s a good look for him. Maybe if these cookies come out well he should start baking more.

Though Alex still isn’t sure why Bruce decided to bake cookies today. He told her he was going to like it was something normal— like they’re a regular couple who does things like this.

It’s nice. But it’s also weird.

Alex knows that she’s not forgetting their anniversary or any other relationship milestones. It’s not anyone’s birthday. But there has to be a reason why Bruce is doing this. It's so peacefully mundane that it feels like there has to be some kind of meaning behind it.

The oven’s alarm rings before Alex can figure out why Bruce was in the mood to bake. He’s quick to retrieve them from the oven, and the smell of freshly baked cookies washes over them.

“Mmm. They smell good,” Alex comments, getting up from her seat.

“They should taste even better,” Bruce replies. “Once they cool down, you get first choice from them.”

Alex comes up behind Bruce, wrapping her arms around his middle. She kisses the side of his neck. “Thank you, bat.”

“You’re welcome.” Bruce leans back a little against her. “Are we going to stay like this until the cookies cool?”

“I think so. Unless you have any objections?”

“Hrn.”

Alex doesn’t need to see to know that Bruce is rolling his eyes. He pretends to be annoyed when she makes jokes around her being a defense attorney— though this one wasn’t intentional.

The cookies do look good from here at least. They're chocolate chip ones, and the chunks of semi-sweet chocolate dotted through them look like they’d melt in her mouth. Alex is tempted to reach past Bruce and grab one, but she knows to wait. She’s sure they’ll still warm in a couple of minutes, and there's no point in touching something too hot to handle right now.

What’s warm right now is Bruce in her arms. He always seems relaxed when Alex holds him like this. It’s nice to think that he finds her presence comforting, especially because she feels the same way about him.

“I think they’re ready,” Bruce says after a moment, turning his head so that his nose brushes against her temple. “Take your pick.”

Alex unlatches from behind him and grabs a cookie from the right side of the baking sheet. It’s warm to the touch, and she’s admittedly excited to try it. As much as she still doubts Bruce’s cooking skills, he seems convinced this will be good and she's inclined to trust him.

Alex takes a bite of the cookie, and Bruce’s attention is sharp on her.

She was right to trust him. This is a good cookie. The edges are a little crispy, but the middle is soft and the chocolate chips dotted through it melt in her mouth. It’s sweet but not overpoweringly so.

Bruce picks up a cookie of his own. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really good,” Alex says.

“I think you owe me a apology for doubting my baking skills earlier,” he teases.

“I was doubting your cooking skills. Like you said, those are two different things.”

Bruce takes a bite from his cookie, a wry expression on his face. He’s both cute and annoying when he knows he caught someone in something. “Ah, so you agree now?”

“You’re very lucky you’re pretty because you can be a pain to deal with sometimes,” Alex states.

“I know,” he replies. “But I think you’d like me no matter what.”

Alex would. It’s hard to imagine ever not adoring Bruce. And as she finishes her cookie and reaches over for another, she thinks that she’s lucky he loves her too.

“You know,” Bruce says after a moment, “I used to make these cookies with my mother.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he repeats. He nudges Alex’s arm with his elbow. “Which is why I was saying that I could handle baking these. Though I’ll admit that I’m out of practice.”

“Well, you did a very good job,” Alex compliments. "And I'm sorry about before."

“Thank you. But you don't need to apologize. You had reason to be cautious.”

They stand in silence for a couple seconds, Bruce reaching for another cookie.

“Is there any reason you decided to make them again now? Since it sounds like you haven’t made them in a while,” Alex says.

“Not really.” Bruce takes a bite, catching a couple of falling crumbs in his other hand. “I thought you’d enjoy them.”

“I do.”

Alex is pretty sure there’s more to it than that. But she doesn’t push. She knows Bruce well. Neither of them like talking about their feelings. It always feels awkward and too vulnerable. It’s easier to talk now— especially with the two of them having been married for years. But putting feelings into words is hard, and she isn’t going to force him to keep talking. That would only make him close off more.

So Alex waits. If he wants to say anything else he will.

Bruce doesn’t say anything else until he’s finished the cookie, going over to the sink to rinse any spare crumbs off of his hands. “Making these was something that we did as a family, even if my father didn’t usually help us make them. So I wanted to share this with you.”

For a moment, Alex isn’t sure how to respond. She’s never been good at emotional displays. That’s part of why she and Bruce work so well. They’re both awkward and have trouble with putting their feelings into words, but they can understand when the other is trying to show them they care in their own way.

But this is something special. She already knew that it was when Bruce said he made these with his mother, but this is even more than that.

They’ve been married for years now. Alex knows that Bruce loves her and that they’re a family. This, though, feels normal. Like something a family that wasn’t a pair of workaholic vigilantes would do. It’s soft, and it’s sweeter than the cookies themselves are.

“Thank you so much. I love you,” is all that Alex can think to say. She’s not sure that it’s enough to show just how important this is to her, but this should do the job well enough.

“I love you too,” Bruce says.

“Maybe next time we can make them together,” Alex suggests.

He gives a dry laugh in response. “You hate cooking with people.”

“It’s baking, remember?” She moves to give Bruce a quick kiss. The taste of chocolate lingers on his lips. “And if it’s a family tradition, I’m willing to give things a shot if you are.”

#my writing #asks #heart-of-aspiration #🦇 batrimony #♠️ alex #🦇#thanks for the ask!#i think this might be the longest thing i've written for here so far #safeship #selfship #selfship fic

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kakusboyfriend · 11 months

Note

Psimon HC anon here! I can’t think of any particular headcanons right now so anything generic you have would be perfect. I’ll probably think of something specific in a bit 😁

GOD tysm for giving me an excuse to write for this little guy. I love him dearly and wish he'd gotten more screentime - hes So cute I love him

I'm basing myself off of the tiny interactions we saw between him and devastation. God, hate her to death, but at least she made him act a bit lovey dovey and it's all we have. Also I barely watched young justice aside from his eps and like 2 others for lagoon boy bc i don't care about it too much - so it's more about him and his interactions with you. Hope that's ok!

Ps I inserted my brain damage hc near the end. Hope I wrote that alright b/c I'm always nervous when it comes to this sort of thing.

• first off Psimon is a sucker for praise and compliments, through and through. If you tell him he's pretty, or that you like his voice, that he's smart or even just that he smells nice he's already obsessed with you. Not really out of insecurity, it's just that he doesn't hear this often, so when he does it's Special to him. He'll be thinking about it all week.

• if he has a crush on you, he's subtle about it. if you're on the same team, all you'll notice is that he's a bit more protective now, and that he seems to praise you more often than anyone he works with. it leaves you wondering, but its not enough for you to say for sure that he's interested.

• despite the psychic skills, he wouldn't scout your mind to know how you feel about him. He might not have this respect for anyone else, but he believes it'd be a horrendous breach of privacy. He'll know your feelings when the time comes.

• speaking of, when it comes to confessing, Psimon is succint and to the point about it. Not to say he's blunt or callous - he's just not the type to do anything too over the top, at all. A simple "I need to talk to you in private", taking you somewhere secluded, and stating his feelings is the most he'll do about it. He's sweet and direct - there's no reason hiding his feelings anymore, is there?

• looooves using pet names like "beloved", "my dear/my love", "darling/dearest" and so on. Fitting with the rest of his personality, he's a bit formal and old fashioned when choosing what to call you. He already sounds like an old man–might as well act like one. Play the cards you were dealt etc

• not the biggest on PDA and isn't very touchy feely in public, but that doesn't mean he'll shy away when you hold his hand – that's mean! He lets you do what you want, but might complain if you get a little Too affectionate. He's not rude, just establishing his boundaries.

• but when you're in private? He's all over you. He loves being held, physical touch means the world to him. Going against his detached and intimidating persona, Psimon just Loves peppering your face with kisses whenever you're alone (and loves it when you do the same to him!), cuddling, and just generally touching you at any given time. He's a sweetheart behind closed doors, it's a delight.

• call me an idealist or whatever, but I do think he'd like anything domestic. If he has a choice between going out and staying home, he'll prefer staying home. Loves it when you two cook together and try out new recipes you won't share with anyone else. There's much to be said about the simple pleasures of spending a rainy afternoon cuddling your boyfriend on the couch while you watch The Princess Bride for the 80th time, as opposed to the usual hectic life of crime you deal with every other day, and god he Loves those moments spent with you. You're all his for the day, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

• not one to argue if you do want to go out, though. Everyone gets bored of spending all day inside their own house, even if you're on break. Psimon prefers taking you to a modest restaurant -nothing too flashy, but nothing too simple either- since he can very easily use his powers to help you two blend into the crowd. However, he won't oppose too much to something like a visit to the local amusement park - just a warning that he gets motion sick quite easily!

• on a more serious note; despite his best efforts, Psimon still has memory and cognitive issues you'll have to get used to. It's nothing major, but it's easy for him to forget your birthday or anniversary, and certain things that felt like second nature now take a conscious effort, which is frustrating for him. Of course that's not to say I think less of him when writing this, or that you would, for that matter - but it is a source of insecurity for him. The environment and people he's surrounded with don't help, there isn't much space for special accomodations in his line of work, sadly. Either you're good at what you do or they get rid of you. I could go on and on about this specific headcanon but I'll cut it short here before I take too much of your time - just know that he's not 100% what he was in the past, and some things are more difficult nowadays. Please be patient.

God. I could go on and on about this guy despite, like all of us, having little to no material to base myself on. I'm just starving and spend too much time thinking about mr transparent brains kissing a weird lizard guy homosexually. It's all I can do to satiate my Hunger, and brother I am Starving.

#im so soft about him. oh i love him so #asketh #dc #dc prompt #ummmm how do i tag this. i dont think anyone other than me or anon would be too into this #maybe like 3 other people i have yet to meet. well come get your food if you exist outside of my wildest dreams #psimon #young justice #💜psimon #my writing #self insert #selfshipping #selfship #f/o #self ship #mlm selfship

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1d1195 · 1 year

Note

Hi! I have FINALLY found time to fully give my attention to Protection and read part 6! AND it was also a super nice surprise to see you posted another new piece today, which I most definitely read as well! So I’m going to talk about those two but if it’s too long you don’t have to read it, it’s okay!

Protection: Where do I even BEGIN!?!? Overall this chapter was perfection! I love how you give us glimpses of how domestic their dynamic has become and them getting to know normal little things about each other! The scene of them decorating a Christmas tree together was so adorable yet I felt so sad for her because of how much she was wishing her mother to be there so she could experience Harry :( But Harry comforting her and them having another vulnerable moment together warmed my heart! Now THEIR FIRST FUCKING KISS!?!? I GASPED!!! It was such a them moment, her being so cute and happy and rambling while Harry was just so in awe of her and proud, you painted the perfect scene!!!!(and it so so hot btw) He called her kitten while he was basically teasing her and making her talk… HES INANSE! especially when he was kissing her and telling her he wants her but it’s protocol yet he was all up on her!? He was so annoying, in a cute way obviously! Also him calling her out on faking it was so hot to me and it just something bodyguardrry would say lol I can only hope this man asks her out on his day off!

Right Here: OMG I LOVE THEM ANS I ABSOLUTELY WOULD LOVE TO READ MORE ABOUT THEM!!! You are absolutely a GOD meshing all of the favorite and classic tropes together and still making the flow of the story go so smoothly! The tropes fit SO well and they didn’t feel forced at all! Harry being “sunshine” and hopelessly in love with her from the start but with the “miscommunication” trope they were not able to express their feelings towards each other 😭 brilliant honestly! And I was so devastated that she experienced something so horrible due to the slide incident and honestly I can understand how much that affected her! And the fact that she was still made to feel like SHE was the problem and weird was just so sad :( But once they talked it out my heart leaped so much I was ROOTING FOR THEM! When Harry said “I had a feeling y’couldn’t keep it up forever. And I’d wait forever for you, beautiful”, I DIED! This is so simple yet I find it so meaningful because even after all this time he’s just being their for HER and just wanting to have her in her most raw and vulnerable self is just so wonderful too read about and it hit close to home! Also when he said “Your leggings?” He smiled mischievously. ‘M’almost jealous of ‘em touching all of your legs.’ I GIGGLED because it was good ngl! If any other man said this to me it would be gross but NOT WITH HARRY! I loved it so much and I hope if you ever feel inspired to give an extra please do!

Also I saw what that mean anon said, FUCK THEM! Yes constructive criticism is allowed and having their own opinion is valid but not when it’s laced with the intention to hurt the person, I genuinely believe that they didn’t even fully read it because it was no used too many times! I love love LOVE your nicknames in your stories! It has made me love nicknames more in general! Plus it’s unique to you and I come to your blog because of what YOU create and it’s just so beautiful-💜

Okay I've been anxiously awaiting to hear your thoughts 💕 There isn't an ask you can send that I wouldn't read, I don't care how long it is. You took the time to read almost ~10k of nonsense that I wrote, I'd read whatever you have to say 💕

I am SO glad you liked the next installment of protection! I really liked writing this part. I'm def a Christmas girl (and a momma's girl) so I gotta throw all that in at every chance I get. I couldn't make them wait any longer to kiss but I really, really truly believe Mr. Protocol wouldn't push too much further than they did (and I honestly had a nice long mental battle with myself that what he did was too much anyway!)

Of course I'm glad you liked Right Here too! I don't think there's anything Harry could say to me that I would find gross which is probably a problem but it makes for great writing. I think he could punch me in the face and I'd probably thank him. They were really fun to write about and I thought Harry was actually quite adorable if I'm allowed to say that about myself. I liked making her grumpy and nervous because I thought Harry would be a really nice balance--I thought of him jumping all around stage and it just made so much sense. I think I saw another request to hear more about them. I'll have to see what I can think of lol

Honestly, your other ask about me using kitten to signify they're soulmates (which I realize I didn't do in Right Here but we're going to pretend because obviously) was the first thing I thought of when I got that other message. But honestly I'm glad you didn't feel like it was used too many times. I went back and glanced it over and thought I actually might have but maybe it's because I was bummed about it.

Anyway. I adore you as always and I am SO glad you took the time to write this message <3

xoxo

#💜#protection #right here

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Note

👉🏻👈🏻

Domestic for Childe?

Ideally as a form of continuation of that post from a while ago where the reader babysits his kids and Childe is like “cool ur mine now”

Prompt: D for Domestic.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin Impact).

TW: Timeskip AU (About 20-30 Years Post Canon), Implied Non-Con, Abuse of Power, Mentions of Blood/Bruising.

When you were younger, your mother told you to smile at people with power.

Bad advice, in most cases. Your tutors always wrote you off as a willing pupil, but a dull one, and underhanded merchants took you for an easy mark, and when the seasons changed and the snow grew deep and thick, you were always the one sent to brave the snowstorm and deliver letters to the next town over, if only because the the leader of your tiny village thought it would teach you to respect your elders. It made things more difficult than they had to be, most of the time, complicating simple matters and making your reputation a matter of volatile discussion, but you smiled at the lost maid you found wandering through your local marketplace, and you smiled as you helped her find the rare herbs she'd been sent out to fetch, and when you were taken into a Harbinger's household, told you would care for the small legion of children he'd amassed, you smiled until your cheeks ached from the strain.

You smiled until the kids trusted you, until they confided in you, until it was like you were a part of the family. You smiled until you'd won their father over, too, until you'd convinced Tartaglia that it'd be better if you really were.

It'd been bad advice.

Bad, bad advice.

He was touching you, again. His hand on your hip, his lips ghosting over the dip of your shoulder, surrounding you, trapping you, keeping you pinned on the edge of his mattress, even if he was barely making contact. You were thankful you weren't facing him, anymore, allowed to stare absentmindedly at the scuffed floor of his bedroom, your lips only pressed into a thin, neutral line.

He was smiling, this time. You could feel it, you could feel him, pressing soft, fleeting kisses into your skin despite the way you shrunk away from him, despite how little of his affection you'd returned since he'd called you to his chambers and...

"Tartaglia?"

"Ajax." He was mumbling, half-humming. Your own voice sounded shrill, in comparison, too loud for a moment that's meant to be so delicate. "Ajax. Can you say that for for me, sweetheart?"

"Ajax..." You were supposed to go dress shopping with Amity, tomorrow. She was the oldest, barely fourteen, an orphan from a nation Tartaglia had attempted to burn to the ground (and partially succeeded). She'd be devastated, if you had to call off your plans. It'd take her weeks to forgive you. "How long are you going to keep me here?"

Another kiss. To the dip of your shoulder, this time. "What do you mean?"

Another, over the bruise he'd left just above your jugular. "I just want to know what's going to happen, after this."

It wasn't what you meant to say, not really, not with the bitter taste it left on your tongue, but Ajax laughed and wrapped an arm around your waist and you decided not to correct yourself. "We'll get married, obviously. I'll get you a ring in the morning, sign the paperwork. Make it official, and all that." Something twisted in your chest, messy and clawing. You wished he'd just go back to fucking you, biting into your throat until you could feel your own blood running over your chest. "The kids will be excited, too. You should see them on your days off, or when you go into town without them. Maria can't go more than an hour without asking where you are, and Artem won't even leave his room. They'll be ecstatic, when I break the news."

You wished his hands were still wrapped around your wrists, that he was still too manic to care if you tried to scream. You wished you hadn't smiled so much. "Just you?"

"Just me," He assured, as if it would be a comfort. As if that was what you wanted to hear. "Just for a while, I promise. Until I can trust you not to, y'know..." A small chuckle, a slight squeeze to your thigh. You wished you hadn't smiled so much. "...tell on me, or anything like that."

"I don't want to get married." He was pulling you towards him, into his lap. He was kissing you, again, focusing on the corner of your jaw. "I never have. I don't mind looking after your kids, but--"

"Our kids, now." He sounded giddy. "You'll get used to it. Nothing's going to change. We're just going to be a little closer than we used to be, that's all. I'm just going to take care of you, too, and you're going to keep taking care of me."

His teeth brush over your skin, his grin press into the side of your neck. Briefly, you wondered whether or not he'd notice if you never smiled again.

"You're just going to be a part of our big, happy family, from now on."

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere oneshots #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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obeymematches · 3 years

Note

If your hc requests are open, could I ask the brothers and new dateables reaction to mc laying their head in their laps, not to sleep but just for a comfortable rest. I just want some fluff if that's alright. 💗

yes they are open <3 thank you for sending in one, i love fluffy requests sooo much!! the format of this post is a bit messy but i hope thats ok

Lucifer:

OK he is going to give you a challenge he isn’t even aware of.

First problem is; the most common place you can find him sitting at is his office chair - obviously no space for you there. Second problem is; this man likes to cross his legs way too often. Which means you have to wait for the right moment to attack.

How fast the night changes when it happens though - his expression freezes for a hot second BUT he is definitely blushing. You know you got to him a little bit because he doesn’t even dare comment until you decide to browse your phone on his lap, as if it was a casual situation? As if you ever did this to him before?

“Using me as your pillow now, MC? How bold.”

Says that then he casually rests his arm over your chest as to protect you. Now you are not allowed to move unless he has to leave.

Mammon:

Unlike his older brother, he is an easy target. You can do it any day he invites himself to you room and decides to sit on your bed. You just have to be quick enough to do it before he wants to get more comfy / starts manspreading. Simple.

“MC, what dO yA thiNK ya’re DOING??? HEY???!”

Sighs in defeat and in love. A blushing mess for minutes. Once he accepts his fate he’d turn away from you, maybe be on his phone, but he’d softly stroke your hair, very gentle and very slow. Even a bit clumsy and slightly shaky at first. Thinking about when he’ll get his revenge.

Leviathan:

Again, not an easy target but at least he never crosses his legs, so all you have to wait for is him sitting alone in the common room (since in his room there is no space for all this).

When you finally do it he gets so nervous he unintentionally turns into his demon form.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MC?! ?! ?!”

Congrats boo now the others are all coming to check what is going on-

Hides his tomato red face under his palms. Doesn’t say a word to you but fires back at anybody who teases him.

Satan:

Rather easy target; can be found sitting in several rooms of the house and he also uses the common room often. I feel like he’d sit with his ankle over his knee which is going to be an obstacle; you need to wait until he changes position while being too caught up in reading, and then you strike.

Lifts his book up to look down at you puzzled yet blushing. You remind him of a domestic cat and he falls more in love with you-

“You look very cute from here, MC. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Would start petting your head and shoulders, both of you go through a very calming experience.

Asmodeus:

Second easiest target out of the brothers. Either happens in the common room or in your / his bedroom and there aren’t issues with the way he sits.

“MC? If you want to cuddle you just have to say so, you know?”

Not nervous at all but he is slightly blushing. Insists on cuddling until you give in. In the future he does the same to you and it becomes a regular habit when both of you want to stay close while checking your phone.

Beelzebub:

Happens in his room when you go over to hang out with the twins. He might manspead but it’s not too likely.

He is very used to Belphie doing this to him, so initially he thinks it’s just him.

Chuckles a little when realization hits him and starts petting you like it’s his duty to do so.

Doesn’t say anything, he just wants to enjoy moments like this. Belphie joins in when he notices.

Belphegor:

It’s usually him doing this to you, not the other way around - I guess it’s time for revenge!

Another easy target though, he sits so much, all you need to pay attention to is doing it before he lays down.

Comments about how happy he is with you finally doing it to him and how he doesn’t mind this situation at all.

Pets your hair for a while but as usual he isn’t awake for long. Don’t blame him though, especially in this situation.

Solomon:

It’s a challenge with him as you don’t really get lots of chances to hang out privately. Probably happens in Purgatory Hall when he is busy talking to you on the couch. So caught up he doesn’t even pay attention to how his lap is free.

Both you yearn for these moments which you hardly ever get so he does anything but complain.

“MC- What are- ... I love you so much.”

Might even tear up just a little bit. Very careful with his hands when he strokes your hair. Continues the conversation after a couple minutes of taking in the moment.

Simeon:

Similar to Solomon, it either happens in Purgatory Hall or never. His sitting isn’t going to be a problem at all. Simeon might decide to pull his legs up under him to get extra comfort, but for this scenario that can also work.

Has no idea how to react, his heart starts racing and now he is blushing real hard-

Nervous the entire time but manages to pet your shoulders or rest his hand there.

Savours the moment; he is going to think about it for the rest of the week continously.

Diavolo:

Diavolo is another challenge. First off, you need to be in the castle, in his private room for it to happen, which is rare because he is not one to be found there when he isn’t sleeping. Secondly, this man hardly ever sits down.

When that once in a blue moon chance arises though -

He is really happy and turns very soft, no matter what you were talking about he forgets it in an instant.

“MC how are you so adorable- have you been meaning to do this for a while now? Don’t worry, I don’t mind at all-”

Has no idea what to do or say. You’ll have to tell him that he can like. touch you, it’s ok.

Barbatos:

Oh boy. Not just that you don’t get to have privacy with him, it’s also the fact that he hardly ever gets to sit. If he does though he sits the boring way which is exactly what you want in this case.

Slightly chokes on his tea when you finally get to lay on his lap.

“I see how it is, MC. You’re welcome to rest on me, for now.”

Barbatos appreciates this extremely rare moment and probably thinks about it for a long time coming. Life is so peaceful when you are with him, why can’t you stay like this for just a little while longer-

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x y/n #obey me x gn!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me simeon #om! swd

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vendettaparker · 4 years

Text

Peanut Butter and Extra Jelly [T.H]

Summary: Tom’s long time crush on you becomes painful when you and Harrison are cast as love interests in a movie.

Paring: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning: Suggestive themes, fake smut (very light), jealousy, probably some typos, swearing

a/n: i have no idea how filming a movie, or auditioning for one actually goes so don’t crucify me for this. i’m pretty happy with how this turned out, especially considering that this is the most i’ve ever written for a fic. also, Burt Kreisher is one of my fav comedians in real life, he has 3 shows on neflix and a mini series.

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Tom was not a jealous person. At least, that's what he always told himself. He prided himself in thinking he was a very level headed individual who didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. That worked best for his job anyways; always being able to control his emotions and not get in his own head. That simple, pacifistic mindset seemed to change when it came to you.

You were one of the many actors Tom got the pleasure to help hone their technique and work closely with. You were new to the lifestyle of Hollywood and the only roles you had before were in small indie films that never garnered too much attention. The first major role that you landed, which also happened to help kickstart your career, was in the MCU. You played the secondary villain in the third Spider-man movie.

Meeting the cast was a dream come true; they were all extremely helpful and they provided tons of tips and tricks in navigating the hectic schedule required for such a huge production. By the time filming wrapped up, you were considered part of their little Spider-man family.

Tom was easily the most helpful. Whenever he saw you struggling with anything, he offered to help. You two spent hours upon hours together in his trailer, ordering take out and practicing lines. Some nights you two planned to work through your script, but inevitably ended up falling asleep binge watching The Office, and laughing about crazy shit that happened on set that day.

When the movie wrapped up and you went home for a month before the press tour, you were completely unsure and nervous about what direction your career was going in. You auditioned for a few new movies, but had yet to hear from any of the directors about casting decisions. You kept in touch Tom during the month you were apart and expressed your concerns.

“I don’t know, Tom. I’m just so sick of waiting around and hoping that some director out there throws me a bone, ya know’?” You said on facetime, while making cookies.

“Yeah, I totally understand that, (Y/N/N). I had that issue a couple years ago before the Marvel movies. Trust me, you did outstanding in that role and once it gets noticed I’m positive you’ll have directors calling you, begging for you to audition.” Tom smiled warmly into the camera as he walked around his apartment in London.

“Yeah, easy for you to say, movie-star.” You giggled, turning your face away from the camera in hopes that Tom wouldn’t notice the blush his compliments painted onto your cheeks

“I’m serious! You were outstanding! Like in that one scene where you—”

“Tom! Tessa chewed a hole in my trousers again!” A voice came from outside of the frame, “Mate, you gotta get her to stop doing that somehow.”

Tom sighed, and waved his hand dismissively at the figure, “Okay, sure. I’m busy right now.” Tom looked back to the camera, “anyways, as I was saying, don’t stress about not having a new project yet, (Y/N)—”

“(Y/N)?” The other voice whisper-yelled. “Let me say hi!”, suddenly the phone was yanked out of Tom's hands and the video shook around a bit as Tom wrestled to get it back. Finally, the camera stilled and Harrison was on the other end smiling. “Hi, (Y/N)!”

“Oh, hi Harrison!” You smiled back, laughing. You'd met Harrison a few times when he visited Tom on set. “How are you?”

The camera started moving around more as the background behind Harrsion whizzed past. You assumed Tom must’ve been chasing him to get the phone back.

“I’m good! I just auditioned for a new movie. You should audition too! The main female lead’s description looks just like you.” He exclaimed, running past the kitchen to his room.

“Oi! Give me my phone back you div!” You heard Tom yelling in the background, no doubt in hot pursuit of Harrison.

“I don’t know, I'm not sure I’m prepared for a lead role.” You sighed, “What’s the movie called? I’ll look into it.”

“It’s called ‘Collateral Damage’, it’s a spy movie.” Harrison said, shutting the door to his room, while Tom pounded on it from the other side. “Yeah, it’d be really fun working with you. Tom constantly talks about how much fun you are on set.” Harrison wheezed out, trying to catch his breath.

“Aw, that’s sweet of him.” You laughed. “Well I’ve got to go. Just tell Tom he can call me tomorrow or something.” You waved at the camera. “Bye!”

“Yup, bye.” Harrison said right before the video cut out.

Harrison finally opened the door to a seething Tom. Tom grabbed the phone back from Harrison and noticed that the call had ended.

“Dude! Why would you do that?” Tom whined.

Harrison just patted Tom’s back, “Sorry, mate. She said she had to go, though. I was about to give the phone back.”

Tom huffed and sulked for a moment. “Whatever, I’ll just call her later, I guess.”

Harrison nodded and smirked at how whipped Tom was. “You should just ask her out if you’re so desperate for her attention.” Harrison teased.

“Shut up. I’m not desperate for her attention, I just like her voice and her personality, and the way she talks, and her funny sayings, and how her hair looks when she just woke up.”

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It was only a few days later when you received an email from the director of the movie Harrison told you about, asking for you to audition. You were ecstatic, Harrison must’ve already sent in some things about you since the director seemed adamant that you were of high interest for the role.

You called Tom immediately to share the good news.

He picked up after the third ring, “Hello, darling! How are you?” he beamed when he answered your call. He usually was the one to call you so he felt a sense of pride knowing that you were calling him for once.

“Tom! The director of the movie Harrison auditioned for just emailed me asking for me to audition!” You squealed excitedly.

“Really? That’s wonderful, love! Harrison just got the part of the lead too, so you’d be filming with him if you got it.”

“That’s so exciting, I’m flying to London for the audition in two days. Are you still there?” You pulled the phone away from your ear and switched it to speaker. “I’m booking the flight right now.”

“Yeah, I’ll be in London for another week and a half. Then we have the press tour starting in Japan.” Tom said, also switching to speaker phone to look at his calendar. “You can stay with Harrison and I while you’re here. Since we have to go to Japan together anyways.” Tom offered nervously. He really wanted you to stay in his flat with him. It’d be all cute and domestic, and maybe, just maybe, he’d spend enough time with you to not feel nervous about asking you on a date. If he was lucky, that is, but awaiting your reply he was a jittery ball of nerves.

“Yeah, that sounds wonderful. I won't be intruding though, right?” You said, smiling from ear to ear. Thank god you weren’t on facetime and Tom couldn’t see the stupid smile adoring your features.

“No, of course not. Harry will be so excited to see you. And Tessa too, she really misses you.” Tom shuffled around with his phone, shooting a quick text to Harrison letting him know you were coming to stay for a week.

“Ok, thanks so much, this is really thoughtful of you. I absolutely can’t wait to see you!” You gushed, finalizing your purchase of a one-way ticket to London. “K, the flight is at 2:30 pm here, it’s about 9 and a half hours, but you’re also ahead of me, so I’ll be in around..5?”

“Yeah, that sounds right to me,” Tom chuckled, “I’ll come pick you up. I’ll wear my incognito disguise.”

“If you mean that stupid t-shirt you got that says ‘I’M NOT A CELEBRITY’, then maybe I’ll ask Harrison to come pick me up…”

“That’s cold (Y/L/N).”

You giggled softly, “I’m sorry, Tommy. If it makes you feel better, that shirt isn’t as bad as that stupid blue beanie that you never wear correctly.”

“How the fuck would that make me feel better? You’re killing me, (Y/N/N).”

You laughed at his over dramatic reaction, “Sorry that you’re a sensitive babe. I gotta go now, see you soon!” You hung up before Tom could respond with a sassy quip. Then immediately after you received a text:

Tommy: The second you get here I’m bout to 👊

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Tom called Harrison up after you got off the phone, he needed to make sure his best friend wouldn’t say or do anything to embarrass him in front of you.

“Tom, don’t you think this is a bit obsessive? I mean, she’s only staying with us for a week and you already know her so well from spending all that time filming with her.” Harrison sighed, sick of listening to Tom ramble about every possible embarrassing situation he could be put in, in the coming week.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It's no big deal. But don’t mention that time I accidentally shit my pants at the club, or that time I got hit in the head with a golf ball ‘cus I got distracted by a flock of geese, or that time a got chased by a flock of geese, or—”

“Geez, mate. At this point we might as well not even talk to her.” Harrison chuckled, thinking of all the stories he could bring up about Tom around the dinner table with you. Tom really was just a walking ball of embarrassing moments.

“Stoppp ittt,” Tom whined, “when we were on set it was usually just the cast and Harry around, but you? You could do some real fucking damage to my love life, Haz.”

“What love life?” Harrison barked out, laughing.

Tom then hung up and began praying to whatever god was out there that this week could go by without a hitch, and then you and him would be on your way, together, to Japan.

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The whole week spent in London actually went really well, especially the audition. Tom and Harrison both accompanied you for moral support, well Harrison actually had to be there to be your scene partner, but it was still nice knowing he supported you.

The director shook your hand and you went through the normal formalities before beginning your scene with Harrison. It was a quick scene with a monologue in it. The main premise of the movie was all about choosing love over work, especially in dangerous, life-threatening scenarios. The scene you used to audition with Harrison was the scene where the main character, Lincoln, and his lover interest, Mallory, were arguing, trying to push each other away to keep each other safe. The scene had a lot of raw emotion that you were able to tap into, and the directors gave your performance a standing ovation once the scene concluded.

They said that they’d get back to you within the next few days, but they also mentioned how the chemistry between you and Harrison was off the charts, leaving you hopeful. Tom and Harrison both gave you hugs and pats on the back. Tom had watched the whole scene unfold and he was in complete and utter awe of your talent. Part of him was annoyed that he didn’t audition for the movie and a chance as your love interest. But Harrison deserved this big break and so did you, so he was hopeful of the outcome being something that benefitted both of his best friends.

After the audition the rest of the week went by nearly perfectly. The real kicker was when Tom’s family invited you and Harrison to join them for dinner. Tom had not anticipated his mom asking you to come to family dinner, so he wasn’t able to stop the embarrassing anecdotes his mom told on his behalf.

“Tom had the cutest little tush,” Nikki exclaimed, placing the old homemade scrapbook in your lap and flipping through a couple of pages. “See look,” she happily pointed to a picture of Tom as a toddler in a bath, surrounded by bubbles, his little bum poking through them.

Tom sat uncomfortably on the sofa next to you, cringing at the now 21 year old photo of him. He expected you to also cringe along, or worse case scenario, get up and make a flimsy excuse to leave his crazy family, but you just chuckled along with Nikki and continued making your way through the scrapbook, making little comments here and there.

“Oh, and this one,” Nikki said, pointing to a photo of Tom crying and Sam holding up a superhero action figure triumphantly, “that was Tom’s favorite toy, but when Sam saw how much Tom liked it, he made an effort to always be playing with it when Tom came into the room and he wouldn’t share.”

You giggled at the little whiny face Tom made in the picture, and turned to him, replicating it on your face, making fun of him. Tom laughed along and playfully shoved you. He adored how well you seemed to fit in with his family and his feelings for you only multiplied.

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The week in London was one of the best in your life. You didn’t realize how much you missed Tom until you got to the airport and he was there waiting for you, unfortunately in his stupid blue beanie, and no, it wasn’t on right, his big ears poked out of it horrendously.

The last day you had in London before you and Tom went to Japan, you finally received a call about the audition. The director called you to congratulate you on getting the part, and he sent you numerous emails about scheduling, where to be, and when. Harrison was elated to have a familiar face playing his love interest on screen, and Tom was over the moon excited for you, this on top of the Spider-man movie coming out, you were certainly becoming a force to be reckoned with.

You spent the night celebrating at a club, Harry and Sam also showed up to party with you. The night was still young and the club was already packed and in full swing. Tom ordered two shots for each of you to start off the night before he was whisked away by a few fans to sign autographs. When he didn’t return you took it upon yourself to have his shots, giving you an extra edge to help spice up your night.

Harrison found Tom in the corner of the club talking to some fans. But throughout his whole time taking pictures with them, he couldn’t help but glance at you every once and a while. You looked so carefree and beautiful, dancing around in your shiny silver top and leather leggings.

“Tom.” Harrison interrupted Tom’s gawking and directed his attention to the small group of fans Tom was with.

Tom nodded and finished up his pictures and autographs before wishing them all a good and safe night. Once he reached you, you engulfed him in a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you for such a great time in London, Tommy.” you slurred, already feeling the impact of the four shots you took. “I had the best time of my whole life.” You pecked his cheek and pulled him close to dance with you.

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The following month or so on the press tour was a once in a lifetime experience. You travelled to more cities than you even knew the name of and you had all of your friends by your side. More so, you had motivation to remain approachable and well liked by fans considering that you were moving up in the industry. Some interviews were mostly for Tom, Zendaya, and Jacob. Your role in the movie was big enough for you to be needed for some interviews, and most people were genuinely interested in getting to know you, but there were also a handful of press activities that you weren’t included in, which you didn’t mind.

When you didn’t have anything to do for an hour or so, you would text Harrison and send him funny memes. He was quickly becoming one of your closest friends; you had already created a surplus of inside jokes with him just over the phone.

Tom noticed how you were always laughing at your phone or rapid fire texting. Even when you were being interviewed, Tom could faintly hear the buzz of your text message notifications going off.

“Tom,” you snapped in front of his eyes, “did you need something?”

“Huh?” Tom blinked a few times, “Uh—no, sorry.” Tom’s cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed for having been caught staring at you. He couldn’t help it though, you were dressed so pretty that day. You had your hair done up in two bubble braids and you wore his pink sweatshirt over your yellow sundress.

“Okay then.” You smiled at him. You went back to your phone, reading what Harrison had just texted you. “What was the name of that comedian we watched the other night?”

“The one on Netflix?”

You hummed out a yes, tapping away at your phone.

“Burt Kreisher, why?” Tom asked, leaning over to your chair to try and catch a glimpse of who you were texting. When he saw the contact name “Hazzy”, he couldn't stop the little angry pit of jealousy that started in his stomach. Sure, you were here with him now, not with Harrison, but when you two were apart you also texted him nonstop, and the texts seemed to all be inside jokes, which was something you also shared with him that he held near and dear.

“I made a joke referencing him to Harrison and he didn’t get it. Fucking nerd.” You chuckled, texting Harrison a link to the skit you were referring to.

Tom chuckled along, but he couldn’t help but frown slightly at how bright your smile was when Harrison replied.

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The press tour and premiere of the movie seemed to go by lighting fast. You’d never been to a premiere for a production this big, and your nerves for the red carpet were starting to get to you.

You and Zendaya were stuffed into a hotel room with both of your respective teams, both trying to rapidly get both of you ready for the event.

“So when do you start filming for your next project?” Zendaya asked, she sat in front of a broadway-equse mirror, bright bulbs of light giving a luminescent glow to her already near flawless complexion. She hadn’t even finished her makeup yet and she was so pretty.

“In a month, I have to go back to London next week.” You said, sifting through the opinions you brought for dresses. You brought three options, just in case you changed your mind after seeing yourself in the dress. “Harrison and I are going to go over the scripts together and we were also told to go out in public a few times; for press and whatnot.”

“That’s exciting!” Zendaya mused, she glanced at the clock and gave her hairdresser some instructions about how much time she had to do hair. “It’s a good thing you guys are already friends. I remember when I filmed ‘The Greatest Showman’ I didn’t know many of the actors personally, so we had to go out together and do press all while being almost strangers. It was a bit nerve wracking.” Zendaya smiled at you fondly, she was like an older sister to you during this whole movie-making process, she constantly had your back.

“Yeah, I mean I’ll probably be in a situation like that at some point, but for my first lead role it’s nice to be working opposite a friend.” You smiled back, finally deciding on the red, sequined dress.

You both sat and worked through the makeup process in comfortable silence.

“So you and Tom…” Zendaya broke the silence and looked at you with a smirk on her face.

“What?” You looked at her with a dumbfounded look, before nervously laughing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, (Y/N/N).” She poked your arm and laughed, “He’s literally obsessed with you.”

You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. A movie star, and very famous movie star at that, obsessed with you? You? Impossible.

“Yeah no, sorry but you got the wrong girl, babe.” You sighed, pulling out your phone to snap and selfie with her for your instagram story. You quickly snapped a pic of the two of you, her kissing your cheek, leaving a small, faint lipstick mark. “I mean it’d be nice,” you back tracked, “but I’m sure that’s just my wishful thinking.”

“What wishful thinking? I thought you were a pessimist?” Zendaya chuckled, taking her own photo with you to post later.

“I am, but I can’t help but indulge a bit.”

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Before you knew it, you were back in London, staying in a rented out flat for the next three to four months. Harrison was kind enough to come over to help you set up a work space, but he also offered you to spend most of your time at his place. Since Tom was in New York, doing interviews about the new Spider-man movie and having meetings with the Marvel Cinematic Universe team to try and gauge his future in the MCU, he wouldn’t be around for almost a month, so Harrison offered up Tom’s office when you needed to go over a scene by yourself and wanted a place that was already set up.

The days of filming seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Most of your scenes were with Harrison, and he was the perfect scene partner. He rarely messed up, but if he did then he was quick to use it as an opportunity to improvise. His skills weren’t as well honed in like Tom’s, but it was obvious that their style ranged from a similar source.

The main thing about this movie that you were excited, but extremely nervous for, were the two sex scenes. The first one is at the beginning, where the two leads give in to each other for a night, then there's some implied stuff in between, and the last one is when the two leads part ways for the final time at the end of the movie. The first one had to be rough, fast, and needy, whereas the second one was direct to be more slow, thought out, and sensual.

Both were extremely stress-inducing to film. Harrison had also never done any scenes like this before, so he was on the same boat as you. Thankfully you had an amazing director and stunt coordinator to work with and with the help of other crew members, the scenes were mapped out so that it wasn’t too much improv or guessing on your part.

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The first intimate scene you shot actually happened to be the one at the end of the movie. That scene was more tame and dealt with more emotional subtexts than physical. Since you filmed that one first, you went into filming the next one with more confidence. It only took a few days to get the first scene down to perfection, so with this newfound confidence, it shouldn’t take too long to get the next one done.

On the days you shot intimate scenes, you only needed to wear the costume you wore before the scene and then you changed into a robe with nude underwear underneath. The bits with the outfit on before were already shot, so the director called a 30 minute break until you could begin shooting the actual sex part.

You were standing by the snack table, eyes scanning the table for any more muffins leftover from breakfast. The robe you wore made your skin prickle whenever a draft came onto set.

Just as you had found the muffin you were looking for, a pair of warm hands covered your eyes.

“Guess who!” An all too familiar warm, British accentuated, voice called.

You turned around in his arms, effectively nudging his hands from your face, and soon you were met with the warmest hazel eyes. Eyes that you missed so much this past month.

“Tommy!” You squealed and thrusted yourself into him in a hug. He immediately reciprocated it and wrapped your body in warmth. “What’re you doing here?” You asked once you let go of him.

“Harrison gave me the location so I could come watch you film. I just got home, like, two days ago.” Tom eyed you up and down, not realizing what little you had on. “Um—are you wearing anything under that?” He pointed up and down your figure.

“Nope, today and tomorrow we’re scheduled to film the sex scene.” You said casually, doing a silly twirl. Tom gulped.

“A s-sex scene?” He choked, “I didn’t know you guys had one.”

“Yup,” you smirked, “two actually, this is my first one ever, Haz’s too, I think. Well actually, we filmed the sex scene at the end of the movie last week.”

“Yeah… t-that’s cool.” Tom smiled weakly.

Right as you were about to continue your conversation with Tom, an arm swung over your shoulder and pulled you close. Harrison smiled at the both of you. He wore a similar robe to yours, except he left the front open. His plaid boxers on full display.

“Don’t listen to her, Tom. She’s a natural.” Harrison pinched your cheeks. Tom clenched his jaw at the comment. He knew Harrison hadn't meant to imply anything with it, but he couldn't help but hear the hidden meaning behind the otherwise innocent compliment.

You giggled and pushed his hand away, “Only ‘cus my scene partner is so darn cute.” You retaliated, poking and tickling his pecs.

This kind of goofy banter was normal between you and Harrison, but Tom hadn’t seen either of you in so long. He also had never seen you two interact so fluently with each other. He watched the interaction with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along and shrugging every once in a while to seem like he was paying attention. In reality though, he couldn’t pry his thoughts away from how close you were to Harrison.

“Ok everyone! Places! Let’s wrap this scene up and put it to rest today!” Your director called. You and Harrison smiled and waved goodbye to Tom. Harrison pointed to a chair in the room that had a nice view of the set where Tom could watch. Tom nodded and walked over to the chair, enthusiasm for watching you work completely dissipating.

The scene started off rough right off the bat. The second the director said ‘Action!’ you and Harrison were practically pouncing on each other. Harrison had you pressed up against the wall and you were both breathing heavily. He was leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collar bones. Your moans, which Tom always imagined to sound like music to his ears, sounded too real for his liking. But no matter how much he tried to look away, his eyes were glued to the two bodies moving fluidly with one another.

“Cut! Cut!” The director yelled, effectively ending the scene. You and Harrison pulled apart and he gave you a peck on the cheek, as in saying ‘good job’. “That was good, but Harrison,” The blonde nodded, awaiting further instruction. “You gotta be a little rougher, hm?”

Harrison nodded along with the critique. “(Y/N)?” the director moved his attention to you, “would it be okay if Harrison marked you up? Just a few hickeys to really sell the illusion. We can do without, though, if you feel uncomfortable.”

Tom overheard the interaction and internally hoped that you were too uncomfortable for that, but deep down he knew you would do it. You were never the type to stray away from a challenge.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded, chest still heaving from the scene. You looked at Harrison. “Is that okay with you?”

Harrison nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. Yeah, you guys have been working at this scene for days now, but he’d never been rough enough to leave marks. He’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t invigorate him.

So the scene started from the top, you pressed up against the wall, all your weight shoved between the flimsy wall of the set and Harrison’s strong arms. Harrison did exactly as the director required, leaving noticeable dark spots across the top of your chest. Unlike your previous moans, which had just been for show, this new roughness in his actions tore real moans from your lips.

Tom sat uncomfortably in his chair, wishing he picked a different day to visit you on set. He shifted around, watching twin moans pull from both you and Harrison’s throat. He watched as you nipped at Harrison's ear as he faux thrusted into you. The jealousy that had pitted itself in his stomach soon turned to self-loathing. You looked really into the scene, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. He knew you were a great actress, but he couldn’t believe that this was all acting. In his eyes, he believed that some part of you must wish that this was real. And part of you did like this scenario, but you wouldn’t have picked Harrison to be opposite you in this little fantasy.

Your moans and Harrisons both grew louder, leading up to the climax as scripted. Tom, not wanting to watch anymore exited the set quickly before he could watch the scene end.

You and Harrison finished up, gaining applause and praise afterwards from the director and crew members on set.

“Where’s Tom?” You asked, scrambling back into your robe and smoothing out your now roughed up hair.

Harrison, now noticing the absence of his best friend, began to feel a bit guilty. He knew Tom had a thing for you, maybe he should’ve told Tom not to visit set today.

“Um, (Y/N)?” He mumbled, pulling you aside slightly.

“Yeah?” You still looked around for Tom a bit, heart sinking when you realized that he must've left without saying goodbye.

“I shouldn’t be the one telling you this,” Harrison began, drawing your full attention, “but Tom really likes you. He always downplayed it, so I didn’t realize how much, but I think watching this scene might’ve upset him a bit.” Harrison looked towards the exit, no doubtedly where Tom left through, out into the parking lot.

“Oh—oh!” You gasped, feeling terribly for having put Tom in such an awkward position. “I didn’t know he felt the same.” You whispered, smiling softly to yourself. Guess Z was right after all. You pulled away from Harrison, “I’ll go talk to him.”

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Tom didn’t go far. He still wanted to be there to support you; he didn’t want to come off as a jealous prick, but he couldn’t keep watching that intimacy between you and his best friend. He sat on the curb outside of the building the set was built in. A few people passed him going to their designated buildings on the lot, but he didn’t pay any mind to them, too lost in his thoughts. He needed to tell you sooner rather than later how he felt. No time to be a pussy anymore.

“Tom?” You walked up next to his sitting figure, still only in a robe, tightly wrapped around you. He looked up to acknowledge you, mumbling a soft ‘Hey.’ before looking back down, trying to collect his thoughts and courage. It’s now or never.

You sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder. “Harrison told me something interesting in there,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “about you.”

Tom’s head shot up, and he looked at you with frantic eyes, only imagining the worse. There were too many things Harrison could’ve told you about Tom to sully your image of him.

“Whatever it was, he's a lying prick!” Tom rushed out.

You giggled, lifting your head up to look him in the eyes, his dark hazel eyes boring into yours.

“That’s a shame then,” You shrugged, “considering I like you too.”

Tom breathed out a sigh of relief, before looking back at you, doing a double take.

“Wait, what?”

“Mhm, yeah.” You said casually, standing up. “But since Harrison’s a liar then I suppose he was wrong.” You teased.

“No!” Tom grabbed your wrist and pulled you back next to him, but his aim was a bit off and you ended up in his lap. “He lies about a lot, but not about this.”

You smiled at him, “I should hope not, considering I’m crazy about you.”

Tom couldn’t help the smile that beamed across his face, but then he noticed the marks left on you by Harrison. Remembering why he was insecure in the first place, he looked away.

“What about Harrison?” He asked. You looked at him utterly confused. Tom caught on and explained further. “You looked like you were really into that scene with him.”

You giggled and pinched Tom’s cheek, turning it red. “I’m an actress, you idiot.”

Tom scoffed, “I know that. It’s just— I didn’t realize you could fake that kind of love.”

You looked at Tom’s downcast face. You leaned in and kissed his neck, just under his jaw. You nipped and sucked softly, leaving a nice, dark pink blotch that would go away in a few days under his jaw and he whimpered softly.

“I’d never fake that kind of love with you.” You grabbed his face, holding it gently in your hands. “I’d never have to.” You whispered, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet.

Tom pulled you closer, resting a hand on the small of your back, kissing back fervently.

The short make-out session being cut short by the door to the set bursting opened. Harrison rushing out, now dressed in slacks and a white button up for the next scene you needed to shoot that day.

“(Y/N)! Hair and makeup need you.” You lugged yourself off of Tom’s lap, promising to talk to him after you finished for the day. You went back inside, jokingly blowing a kiss to Harrison on your way.

Harrison stayed outside and sat next to Tom.

“Did she confess first?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Yup.” Tom smiled happily, licking his lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick he saw you put on earlier.

“You owe me 10 pounds then, you wimp.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Tom groaned, promptly pulling ten pounds out of his wallet and handing it to Haz.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland smut #harrison osterfeild fluff #harrison osterfield #platonic!harrison osterfield

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citrinesparkles · 3 years

Text

patience, love.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 1317 words. notes: okay. maybe this got a little out of hand. maybe a simple idea grew legs and ran right out of my grasp. maybe i got carried away. i can admit that that may have happened here. (4 times he didn't say i love you. 1 time he did.) warnings: food, patching up wounds, bad self doubt. angst in the beginning.

♡ "i love you," you were warm and content from dinner, and the words slipped from your mouth and over his counter before you could stop them.

not because there was any doubt in your mind- there wasn't, at this point, you knew you loved him like you knew the sky was blue- but because you were afraid of how much doubt was in his.

but maybe that was why you said it.

the doubt in his eyes now, wide and almost fearful as he stared at you, felt like a punch in the gut.

"is that okay?" you asked over the sound of the forgotten faucet and steady drip drip drip off of the scrub brush frozen in his hand.

"you shouldn't." he croaked it out, voice scratchy and weak, viciously tearing his gaze down from your eyes.

you opened your mouth, protests on the tip of your tongue, but he only shook his head.

"please. just... not tonight."

♡ you found him on your balcony, leaning against the railing and staring at the horizon.

the sunset painted the sky pink and purple and red, vivid colors washing over him and catching in his hair and highlighting the scars visible around his t-shirt.

"whatcha need?" he asked gently, acknowledging your presence without looking back.

"you." it was the truth, even if you said it with a playful grin. he healed something in your chest, soothed every break and wound on your heart, quieted the noise in your mind.

a small huff of laughter escaped him, floating into the evening air, as pink and warm and beautiful as the sky. "you have me."

"good." you dropped your head against the doorframe, letting your features relax into a gooey, affectionate smile as you watched his hair shift in the breeze. "love you."

he tensed for a few moments, and you took a deep, silent breath to push your own nerves back down.

it was hard.

a not-so-small part of you hissed that you would scare him off, chase him away by admitting the depth of your feelings again. that despite him being by your side through thick and thin, your love of all things might be the final straw.

he did push back from the railing, sending your heart plummeting into your stomach.

but instead of brushing past you and walking out the door, his hands found your shoulder and your hip and delicately, slowly, cautiously pulled you to his chest.

when you almost immediately melted against him and tucked your chin into his shoulder, his arms slid around your back and held you as close as possible. held you as though you were the most important thing in the world.

he couldn't say it yet, but maybe this was his way of saying it anyway.

♡ "i'm heading out, jase." you leaned over the back of the couch to kiss his cheek. "be good, okay? love you."

he hummed, eyes trained carefully on the tv. "just be safe. and don't forget you're out of pickles."

♡ it had been a very, very long day.

you were very, very tired.

and, as shuffling into a freshly cleaned apartment that smelled like your favorite meal reminded you, very, very attached to jason todd.

you stood silently for a moment, taking note of what all had been swept or dusted or vacuumed, how the blanket you'd left haphazardly on the couch was now folded neatly, and the old lopsided chair you kept meaning to fix was now sitting at attention.

just- seriously, this man was going to be the death of you.

you set your stuff in the corner by the door, neatly kicked your shoes off against the wall, and followed your nose into the kitchen.

his back was to you. he was swaying gently to the jazz playing in the background, hands busy in front of him, and he looked relaxed and happy and the domesticity- the simplicity- of it all was enough to make tears prick at your eyes.

(maybe the ache in your head and feet and- well, okay, all of you- had something to do with that, but he was much nicer to think about.)

"the chair, huh?" you greatly enjoyed the way his motion stuttered for the briefest of moments at the sound of your voice. "you get sick of looking at it?"

he turned to face you, his brow furrowed and cheeks dusted with pink. "i- maybe. maybe a little."

"dinner, too, huh? what'd you do, break something?"

"what? no, i didn't- i'm just-" he stopped, eyes narrowing at you. "you're messing with me."

"maybe. maybe a little."

he groaned, turning back to the counter and grumbling playfully. "i try to be nice and this is the thanks i get."

you chuckled, moving forward to slip your arms around his torso and lean into his back. "sorry, sorry."

"no no, by all means, keep making fun of me. i know it's your favorite hobby."

"i'd make fun of you less if you weren't so cute when you get all pouty about it, y'know."

"i do not get all-" another groan escaped him, and he dropped his head forward into his hands. "would you please just go get into some pajamas so we can eat? stop trying to give me a migraine?"

your laughter was muffled slightly by his t-shirt. "fine." you reluctantly pulled away from the most comfortable moment of your entire day and headed towards the doorway, pausing for a moment just inside of it. "hey, jay?"

he dragged his hands down his face dramatically, looking over his fingers at you. "hm?"

"i love you too."

the soft smile he gave you was worth every single minute of frustration and exhaustion that had led up to it. "yeah, yeah, get out of my kitchen already."

"it's my apartment-"

"gooooo."

♡ your bathroom was bright, cold, and smelled like hydrogen peroxide and blood.

his blood, mostly, but you really didn't think he'd take well to being asked for details just yet.

plus, you weren't totally sure you wanted to know.

regardless of where it came from, the truth was the red liquid had soaked through his shirt and coated his gloves and you were pretty sure some had gotten on your cheek, somehow, before you'd managed to get him cleaned up and bandaged.

now, he rested on the edge of the wet tub and let you gently work a towel through his freshly washed hair that smelled like your shampoo.

you could feel his eyes on you as you stepped back to grab a comb.

"hey, baby?"

stepping back into his space, you hummed in acknowledgement.

"i..." he cleared his throat, inhaling sharply. "i love you."

you froze, eyes snapping down to find his trained carefully on the ground in between the two of you.

you could see the tension in his jaw and shoulders, the way his hands were gripping the wall of the tub. the way he was avoiding your gaze like it would burn him.

"i love you too." you knelt down in front of him, fingers tracing his cheek and jaw and falling to where his neck met his shoulder, gently hovering over his pulse. "you know you don't have to say it, right?"

he nodded sharply, slowly softening under your touch. finally meeting your eyes. "i want to. you deserve to hear it. you deserve a lot more than that."

"you deserve to be comfortable, jason."

a small heh escaped him. "i don't know if i deserve it, but if there's one thing you do, it's make me comfortable."

"good. that's more important to me than hearing you say a few words, okay?"

"okay." he leaned forwards, dropping his forehead against yours and wrapping his fingers around your wrist, cradling it against his collarbone. "as long as you... as long as you know."

"i know, handsome, i promise."

#citrine writes #jason todd #buries my face in my hands #don't look at me ok #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #dc #dc imagine #dc imagines #food cw #medical cw #imagines

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

I propose slow loving sex with Gojo thank u for ur time

propose and you may receive

prince charming - gojo x reader (2.5k)

[comments and reblogs are much appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

warnings: afab reader, no pronouns. not sfw. minors dni! light fingering, piv sex, coming inside, soft. . . soft . . .

Most people who know Satoru Gojo would tell you that the man has two modes. Two ways of being. There is the way that he is from day to day; the laugh, the shovelling of sweets into his mouth, the constant stream of upbeat nonsense and jokes that few people are able to keep a proper track of. This is the Satoru Gojo he is with his students, you think – when the weight of being the strongest does not weigh so heavy on his shoulders.

Then, there is the Satoru Gojo in battle. There is the lift of his blindfold, the way that his blue eyes bore into his enemies – the self-assured way of talking, the ruthless precision with which he deploys his skills. This is the Satoru Gojo that does bear the weight of all of his strength; but his lips still quirk at the corners, he still cracks a joke sometimes though his tone is steely. They have shades of one another, those two personalities - but still, they are the two personalities that he chooses to show the world.

You, however, are permitted to see a different side than most people do.

You see Gojo now, with his body over yours, his soft lips brushing your jawline. You see him with his big hands, cupping your face so he has more access to your neck and your ear, the kisses coming slow and soft and relaxed. He is a large man, despite the fact that he is tall, lithe muscle as opposed to pure brawn – he cages you beneath him like he never wants you to be able to escape him.

You do not want to escape him. Not least when you finally manage to capture those lips in your own and you taste sugar on his tongue. As his teeth nip gently at your lower lip and a breathy sigh is transferred into his mouth; as his long fingers run down your body, appreciating you with a soft hum.

“I’d ask what I did to get so lucky,” he murmurs, voice low and throaty, “but I think I deserve you.”

Some things do not change; Gojo’s arrogance is always there, beneath the surface. He is lucky you find his self-confidence charming, your lips sliding into a smile as your own hands gently push up the shirt he’s wearing. His skin is warm and soft beneath it (you dread to think how expensive it was; Gojo spends money like it’s going out of style, and you have a myriad of gifts to prove it).

“You don’t shut up, do you?” You ask him, mildly, your smile not leaving your face. He laughs softly, and it feels like wind blowing through a field of flowers.

“You love me for it,” he says, all fondness, and he’s right. His shirt is parted from his top half and you admire him; unmarked skin (you suppose his technique means he’s free from the scars so many other jujutsu sorcerers learn to live with), the lean but taut muscles of his abdomen and shoulders. You run your fingers over him and he sighs, leaning into your touch like a cat. Your thumb brushes the hollow of his throat as you take a handful of his pale hair and drag him down into another kiss.

If nothing else, it occupies his mouth.

You can feel his hardness straining in his ripped jeans (pre-ripped for his convenience, with an eye-watering price tag, but even you have to admit that they make his ass look rounder and cling to his thighs and crotch in a way that makes you needy and heated if you stare for too long) as he moves his body against you, half-grinding.

You’re on the couch. You really should move to the bed – heaven knows Gojo’s is big enough for both of you – but there’s something domestic and sweet about Gojo kissing you here, amongst the remains of the sweets he’d been feeding you and with a romantic comedy neither of you are watching any more playing on the screen.

It’s so easy to feel like everything with Gojo is a life-or-death situation – to ascribe more meaning to a brush of his fingers on your shoulder or a murmur of ‘I’ll be home later tonight’ than you really need to.

This, though - this is simple, and easy. It lets you forget the world outside, just for the moments in which Gojo’s body is pressed against yours – lets you think of yourself as a normal couple.

There is nothing more romantic to you than the thought of you and Gojo being able to be just anybody.

So you spread your legs further apart so he can settle between them, sighing as his mouth moves from your own to brush kisses over your cheeks and the bridge of your nose instead.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he tells you, as he pulls back and tugs on your own shirt – you allow it to be removed, thrown onto the ground where you may never see it again. Much more interesting than the lost shirt are Gojo’s hands, large and warm, sliding up the expanse of your stomach and to your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. He undoes the catch of your bra as if the motion is as easy as breathing – and maybe to him, it is. Upon your flesh being newly bared, he sighs, leaning down to kiss the swell of the curve. To find your nipple with the warmth of his tongue and tease it to hardness as he flattens his tongue against it and laps at you, the motion sending little electric shocks of pleasure to the place between your thighs. You sigh and squirm, and he gives the hardened bud a gentle graze of his teeth as he pulls back to look at you.

The sight of his blue eyes concentrated wholly on you and all of the distilled starshine contained within always makes you lose your senses for a moment. It should be unfair, you think, for him to look like that. For those wide blue eyes to seem so innocent when you know that he is not--

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you. You know that he’s telling you the truth; Gojo is not the kind to mince his words. His hands rest on your waist, curving down over your hips to tug at your bottoms and make short work of those too. You lift yourself slightly to allow it, Gojo wriggling so that he can get them off without ever having to really move from between your legs. The bottoms go the same way as your shirt, and you are below him now in nothing but your underwear--

Though that’s barely covering anything. Gojo sighs to see the pale white of the piece you’re wearing has gone translucent from the gush of your slick, clinging to the outline of your folds and showing him just how needy the kissing and the touching and the groping has gotten. He trails a finger down and brushes your mound through the fabric, ghosting over your clit.

“This is for me, doll?” He asks you, a smirk on his face that you want to kiss off.

“You know it is,” you breathe, lifting your hips – and the smirk softens into a smile.

“Maybe I like hearing you say it,” he murmurs, increasing the pressure of his touch so he is rubbing you through the cotton; his big fingers pressing against your clit, making your hips jerk. You don’t know if you want to jerk away from the sensation of the fabric pressing against your swollen nub, or jerk into the pressure that you want so badly – so you settle for circling your hips, panting soft little noises.

Gojo smiles at you and the expression on his face is dazzling. Your heart skips a beat; he’s so beautiful. You’re so unbelievably, amazingly lucky--

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, leaning and kissing your cheek, burying his face in the crook of your neck to kiss and lick and suck at the skin there. Your back arches as his attentions send yet more shivers down your spine, set you aflame even further. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear his face was warm – is he blushing? “If you could see yourself, you’d understand--”

“If you could see yourself,” you tell him, through the pounding need in your chest, “you’d understand exactly why I’m looking at you like that--”

“Oh, I know,” he preens, though his face is still warm. He hooks his fingers into the wet underwear and pulls them over your thighs. “I know why you’re looking at me like that! I’m gorgeous-- but . . .” He seems to stumble over his words before he manages to get a good hold on them again, before he pulls back and the flush on his cheeks is only barely there. “You don’t know how gorgeous you are, and . . .” He places a hand to his chest. Your underwear is dangling from his thumb, though you’re not entirely sure how he fully tangled you out of him in the position the two of you are still in. “It breaks my heart!”

You smile despite yourself.

“You’re being too romantic,” you tell him, though your insides are secretly all aflame and bubbling. “It’s not like you.”

“I’m wounded,” he says. One hand lands on your thigh, drawing circles and patterns on the slick skin – his middle finger gently nudges the very outside of your sex, teasing the puffy lips apart so he can brush your clit. Your gasp dies in your throat. “I’ll have you know I’m an absolute Prince Charming, baby--”

And he’s giving you that charming smile, even as that same finger presses deep inside you in one swift movement and your knuckles clench on the couch cushion. You groan aloud, lifting your hips to allow him deeper, to make you feel fuller--

Your eyelashes flutter, eyelids somewhere between open and closed, but you still see that Gojo’s own gaze is fixed on you. It’s tender. Loving. You feel strangely exposed beneath it – but at the same time, you feel warm and comfortable and right as he adds another finger and stretches you out on it, scissoring them apart. He brushes the spongy spot of your walls that always hits different and you sigh, murmuring out his name--

“Satoru,” you’re practically whining. “Satoru, faster, please—”

“Prince Satoru,” he corrects you, with a grin that’s slightly crooked to one side and more charming than it has any right to be. He pumps his fingers in and out of you a few more times, until they are thoroughly coated in your wetness, until the fire inside you has been suitably kindled and your breath is uneven and your face is hot – and then he pulls them out.

You don’t have time to whine.

Not with the sound of his zipper, the sound of him kicking off his expensive jeans – the heat of him settling over you on his knees and taking your hips to slide you easily onto his cock.

He groans out your name like it’s all he ever wants to say.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he says, and you reach up and grab a handful of his hair again. He lets it be pulled with only the softest sigh – lets you bend him over you so the two of you are cheek to cheek, chest to chest, so close that you can feel his heart beating. “Fuck, doll--”

He’s right. He fits inside of you like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle; warm and tight and perfect.

It’s a triumph, for Satoru Gojo to be lost for words – but he stops speaking as he fucks you slow and soft. It’s not that you and he only usually fuck hard and rough – but his job is stressful, and he is teasing and smug, and it’s more usual for you to be bent over on his bed as he pulls your hair and runs his mouth than it is for anything like this to happen.

He doesn’t seem to have any complaints about it, though – and neither do you. How can you complain when he holds you so gently? When he kisses you like he’s savouring the taste of you instead of devouring you?

He’s not speaking, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t noisy – he’s panting, groaning, moaning. He’s always loud in bed – he has almost no self-control when it comes to pleasure, you don’t think – but the noises also go right through you in only the best of ways, making you shiver and shudder. It’s unfair that his voice should sound so good. It’s unfair that he should have almost no flaws--

Some people might say his personality is a flaw, you suppose, but you unfortunately find him charming.

You wrap your legs about his waist and his cock hits deeper, brushes that same spot inside of you – but you find you do not care so much about the orgasm as you care about having Gojo in this embrace.

Not caring about it, though, doesn’t mean that is not going to happen – not with the slow thrusts of his hips, or with the sight of him with his lip bitten and his hair all mussed up from your tangling.

You’re not sure if Gojo has ever found something that he isn’t good at, and fucking you is no exception. His cock hits every spot inside of you and seems to find new nerves you didn’t know would feel so good when stimulated; your entire abdomen (hell, your entire body) feels like it’s on fire. You were slick enough before he’d entered you, but now you can feel your own arousal pooling on the couch cushions beneath you – you can hear how wet Gojo’s cock must be, on the push-pull of him fucking into you. The glide is slick and silky and searing, and your fingers flex on his back, as the tight string inside of you readies to snap.

“Sat-- I’m-- ‘m gonna--”

Your words are lost to the feel of him, to the haze that seems to descend around you whenever you and Gojo are together. You see the curve of his smile, hear him softly whisper;

“S’alright, baby--”

A stroke of his hips that has the flat plane of his pelvis pressing against your clit and you let yourself go, tumbling into the bright lights of your oblivion, your thighs tightening reflexively about him as if you want him to drown inside of you. Gojo sighs, groans, moans out your name as your cunt milks him for all he is worth, squeezing around him – and, he, too, lets go. Heat. Warmth. Gojo’s cock, twitching, heavy and perfect and right inside of you.

“I love you,” you whisper, against his collarbone, in time with the beating of his heart – and Gojo looks at you as his hips continue to roll slow and leisurely, eking out the final drops of his release as it settles inside of you like a claim, and he smiles slow and soft like honey or syrup.

“I know,” he says, quietly. “I love you too.”

He stays inside of you, on top of you, in the embrace, even as his cock begins to soften. Enjoying your warmth, your presence, your closeness.

Maybe he is a Prince Charming.

You’re not going to say that aloud to him, though.

He’d never let it go.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #writing #jjk posting #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #not sfw #jjk writing #afab reader #neutral pronouns #Anonymous

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smoochkooks · 4 years

Text

—christmas cream(pie) ; (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: established relationship, smut, fluff

⟶ word count: 3.6k

⟶ summary: a day before christmas dinner with your boyfriend's parents, you discover another alternative way to use the chocolate cream you’re making. jungkook is more than willing to indulge in your little fantasy.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, food play, finger-sucking, spit kink, dirty talk, oral (f) receiving, slight choking but nothing too extreme, unprotected sex, creampie, jungkook being the sweetest boyfriend on the earth and your emotional support, tooth-rooting domestic fluff:(

a/n: hi!! this is my little christmas present for you. hope you enjoy what my brain came up with yesterday<3 ps. i also dont know what kind of fic title this is.

Christmas secure a top spot on your own self-made list of holidays. You enjoy practically every aspect of it. The food, decorating your house, songs, movies, the whole magical aura of warmth and love – you name it.

But this year though, you're fiddled with anxiety because it's the first time you're going to celebrate with your boyfriend Jungkook and his parents.

You've been dating for two lovely years, living in a shared apartment for almost six months but somehow you've never spent any major holiday together. Until now, it actually felt like a step bigger than moving in. Choosing to be with your families and celebrate separately was never an issue for both of you.

And foolishly, you thought this year would be no like the other, that you'll kiss your sweet boyfriend goodbye before Christmas Eve and reunite after the whole shenanigans would end. But to your surprise, Jungkook had different plans for you.

“Y-your parents did what?”

“They invited us for a Christmas dinner.” he repeated calmy, completely unfazed by the pure shock marring your features.

He was sprawled on the couch, hair messy and falling onto his forehead because he had been avoiding barbershops lately (it wasn’t like you minded it–if anything, it made him look even sexier). He was wearing your favorite pair of sweats that had a soy sauce stain on the left knee and a simple black t-shirt, yet for you he looked like an angel sent from the above and devil reincarnated at the same time. So deliciously domestic and soft it almost made you wanna jump him right here and there, if it wasn't for the more nagging matters that you had yet to discuss with him.

“But,” you stuttered, brain too consumed by nerves to help you formulate coherent sentences. “I was visiting your parents in Busan over summer.”

“Yeah, but it's been a while and they really want to see you again,” he said, raising from his spot. He came up to you, his tall, lean body towering over your form. The moment you saw his sparkly doe eyes boring holes into yours, you knew you were approximately twenty seconds from giving in. “Pretty please.” he tried again, palms cupping your flushed cheeks until you had no choice but to agree.

“Okay.”

Jungkook grinned in response and leaned to press a chaste kiss onto your lips. “Love you, baby.” He tasted like spicy noodles and soda but you ignored it, mustering a small smile.

“Love you too.” you said, always meaning those three little words because truly, you could never resist Jeon Jungkook and his charms. He had you wrapped around his finger more than you'd ever admit and you'd simply do anything to make him happy, even if that meant stressing over a Christmas dinner with his parents.

“They really like you, ___. You have nothing to worry about.” Jungkook murmured upon kissing your nose, and then forehead. “My mom is already so excited to see you. She said she would make an apple pie because you once mentioned you liked it.”

You leaned into his touch, slightly less angry you had been surprised with a revelation like that but at the same time still apprehensive and filled with nerves. “You aren't making this easier, you know?” you asked.

Jungkook sent you an apologetic smile. “You're amazing, baby. You don't need to convince my parents again that you're the right person for me,” he said, hands finding purchase on your waist and pulling you closer to him. “All you have to do is smile and compliment my mom's cooking skills. And maybe ask dad about fishing. You know he's been crazy about it lately.”

Easier said than done, you thought to yourself. Jungkook was a natural when it came to bewitching people. Your parents adored him because he knew all the right words to make them fall for his charms. He didn’t have to try hard or pretend to be someone else in order to be accepted as their daughter’s partner.

You, on the other hand, were on a different side of the spectrum. No matter how many times Jungkook reassured you of your worth, you still had a lot of insecurities to deal with. That was just who you were as a person. Maybe it was why you clicked so well together. You needed someone to be your second Sun.

“You got his.” With a final kiss onto the crown of your head, Jungkook left you standing in the middle of the living room, and all you could think about was a fricking apple pie and finding new ways to impress your boyfriend's parents.

Hence way you're currently in the kitchen, blender in your right hand as you mix the ingredients for the most extra chocolate cake you've ever made, determination written all over your features like you’re competing in the final Bake Off episode.

And why is that? Because your brain couldn't let you sleep peacefully at night if you didn't decide to bake your own cake for Jungkook's mother. It started innocently, slowly getting information out of your boyfriend about his parents' favorite food. Of course, you had to be clever about it, so he wouldn't suspect anything too early into the game. That's why after asking a round of rather specific questions you lured him into a blowjob because you know he usually loses his goddman mind after a good dick sucking.

Content with your plan, you're now a day before the Christmas dinner, Jungkook's mother's beloved cake almost ready to be put into the oven.

“Babe, I'm home!” you hear Jungkook calling from the corridor. You sent him to do some (un)necessary grocery shopping so you could have a time for yourself to prepare the cake without him looking over your shoulder and analyzing your every move. You really hate when people do that because you’re more likely to screw something when you’re being watched.

“Let me taste it then,” he says, grabby hands reaching for the bowl but you quickly swat them away.

“I'm here!” you shout back, unplugging the blender once you're satisfied with your chocolate cream.

“What is the smell?” Jungkook asks, entering the kitchen. “Oh,” he quips, placing grocery bags on the floor. “You made this?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, dipping a finger into the bowl and then putting it into your mouth. It tastes good, not too sweet but at the same time it still has a strong chocolate flavor. Perfect.

“Wash your hands first.”

“Wait,” You can almost hear the gears shifting in his brain. His grip on your waist tightens as you desperately try to stifle the laugh babbling in your throat. “This is my mom's favorite cake.”

Jungkook dramatically salutes you, even though you see him smirking under his breath. Once his hands are all clean and dry, you feel his arms encircling your body from the back. “Is this for me?” he murmurs, obviously referring to the cake.

“Nope. It's for tomorrow's Christmas dinner.”

That’s why you break into a smile, pulling him for a quick peck. “You can taste my cream now.” you say.

“Great observation.”

“And you said you were making it for the Christmas dinner,” Jungkook continues, “Which means you did this purposely.” he finishes, twirling your body so you're now facing him.

“You said she would make me an apple pie so I thought I could reciprocate the kindness and do the same,” An innocent smile tugs at your lips. “Besides, the more food the better.”

Jungkook snorts. “So here's why you were asking me all those weird questions lately.”

Your eyes widen. “You paid attention to that?”

“Babe, I might be a simple man who enjoys seeing his girlfriend sucking his dick but it doesn't mean I don't listen to you,” he says, sounding slightly offended but you know that deep down he's amused by the whole situation. “You didn't have to do that, you know?”

You let out a long sigh. “I know but... I just felt so weird. Your parents are so happy to see us, they are doing all those preparations and I couldn't stop thinking about doing something to impress them in return,” you murmur. “So they wouldn't think it preparing a whole celebratory dinner for their son and his girlfriend was actually pointless.” you add in a smaller voice, dropping your head down. 

“Baby,” Jungkook coos, fingers grasping your chin so you could look him in the eye again. “You're an amazing person. My parents know that too. You don't have to prove them your worth. Ever.”

His words make you relax visibly. You don’t know what you would do if you didn’t have Jungkook by your side. He’s just being himself, showing you his extremely caring side as he usually does when you feel down but somehow you’re more thankful for this now.

You dip your index finger into the cream. Then, making sure his eyes are trained on your face, you bring your finger up and envelop with your lips, purposely sucking on it obscenely. “Mmm,” you nothing but moan. “It’s really good.”

“That sounded awfully sexual.”

“No, it did not! You're just perverted.”

“But you love me anyway, don't you?”

You snort at his stupid remark. Suddenly, a not-so-innocent idea pops in your mind and you wonder who’s actually the one with more inappropriate thoughts running through their head. Jungkook might enjoy teasing you on daily basis, but a girl can have her fun too, right?

Jungkook's eyes darken seeing your little stunt you’ve decided to pull today. He bites the inside of his cheek, before saying,”’I know what game you’re playing.”

“I’m not doing anything.” you respond, feigning innocence. Before you can dive for more cream, Jungkook grabs your wrist and stops you.

Bingo.

When he takes his two fingers and plunges them into the cream, you know exactly what’s coming next, the adrenaline and excitement pumping through your veins. He brings his fingers up towards your face and you have to fight an urge to stay still, waiting for his instructions like the good girl you obviously are. “Open up, baby.”

You oblige immediately, mouth falling open and tongue out. He pushes his fingers inside, sweet, chocolate cream filling your taste buds. “Suck.” he says simply, eyes fixated on your lips. You do it without a second thought, swirling your tongue around his digits and making sure to lick every last drop of the substance.

When he decides he can't take it anymore, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and before you can even blink, he crashes his lips onto yours; fast, messy and unforgiving, thrusting his tongue inside to play with yours. His motives are clear: you aren’t leaving the kitchen without getting properly fucked.

“So sweet,” he murmurs against your lips, the hand around your waist pulling you flush against him. “My cute girlfriend thought she could tease me and get away with it.”

He bites onto your lower lip as to prove his point and you whimper. “It’s not like that,” you manage to say, grinding yourself against the evident bulge in his pants. “I didn’t expect to get away with it.”

Jungkook's hands travel to the backs of your thighs and he lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the counter. You’re sure there are traces of flour still on it but you couldn’t care less right now, not when a pair of hands roughly nudges your legs apart so he could stand in between them.

“So you did it purposely,” Jungkook leaves your mouth in favor of tracing kisses down your neck. Careful not to marry your skin with hickeys because you would beat the shit out of him if he did bruise your neck a day before the dinner with his parents. “Naughty girl.” He punctuates his statement with a bite to your earlobe, his next words being whispered directly into your ear. “What should I do with you, then?”

You whimper, your thighs pressing together just hearing the tone of his voice. You lace your fingers through the locks at the back of his hair and place a kiss against his lips. “Fuck me?” you ask in a saccharine-sweet tone.

He chuckles in response, fingers grasping your t-shirt and pulling it off you, revealing your bare chest to his hungry eyes. He wastes no time and latches his mouth onto a nipple but as soon as his tongue meets your hardened bud, he retreats. Confused, you watch as he reaches for the bowl once again and dips his fingers into the cream. He then smears it all over your nipples, a proud smirk caught on his lips when he leans back to admire his art work.

“Kook,” you mewl, too pathetically for your liking and you know how much it’ll stroke his ego. “Please, touch me.” you plea, one of your hands reaching to pull him closer to you.

“Yeah?” His chuckle is almost sinister. “Look at you, all dirty and begging me so nicely. Not that smart with your mouth now, are you?”

All you manage is a nod and meek “Please,” that quickly morphs into a drawn out moan when he finally dips his head to suck your nipple into his hot mouth. You never could have guessed that the idea of food play would be so arousing to you but here you are, pussy clenching around nothing when your sweet boyfriend licks chocolate cream off your boobs.

When he’s done and satisfied with the result, he grabs your sweatpants and pulls them down along with your underwear in one go, your bare ass meeting with the cold marble of your kitchen counter. Jungkook wastes no time and spreads your legs apart, not giving you a second to shy away from his burning gaze before he dives in to lick a stripe up your slit.

You cry out in pleasure when his tongue finds your clit and gives it a sharp suck, his hands grabbing your ankles and bending your knees so he could have a full access to your glistening core. You’re absolutely drenched, dripping down your thighs and making a mess on Jungkook's face but he doesn’t mind it a bit, eating you out like a champ you know he is.

“So wet,” he rasps against your cunt. “Messy girl.”

To make matters worse (or better) he takes his sweet time and lets a glob of his spit mix with your arousal because Jungkook, much like you, enjoys giving a head more than anything in the world and makes it his priority to see you lose it on his tongue. You’re positive you will come like this if he keeps continuing abusing your clit just right. He knows your pussy like the back of his hand. Knows what makes you keen, how to make you eyes roll to the back of your head. It fuels his ego to see you like this; helpless and utterly devoted to the pleasure and you don’t even mind when he brags about it later. How could you if you benefit so much from it?

Suddenly, he grunts into your cunt and your brows furrow because it’s not the sound you’re used to hearing during sex. You look down to check what’s wrong but he’s already up and in level with your eyes, a sheepish smile adoring his features.

“Neck cramp,” he explains, his palm massaging the back of his neck. “Eating pussy is easier on the bed.” You can’t help but giggle, replacing his hand with yours and providing him a temporary relief. “I’m sorry. Were you close?” he asks.

There he is. Your sweet, caring boyfriend who never forgets to ask for consent before railing you into the mattress and always putting your pleasure before his own.

“Mhmm,” you hum, grasping his t-shirt and lifting it off his body. It should be considered a sin to look like this, you think to yourself. “But I want to come on your cock instead.”

Jungkook grins, quickly pulling down his pants and underwear. His cock slaps against his stomach, pride swelling in your chest because you know you can make him this hard without your touch. “How do you want it?” he asks, guaranteeing himself a moment of relief when he gives his cock a few pumps, spreading precum all over his length.

“Like that,” you answer, gesturing at your current position on the counter. “Wanna see you.”

“Anything for my pretty girl.”

If you weren't already red, you would have blushed at his cute words. The sentiment doesn’t last long though, your face twisting in ecstasy when he lines himself up with your entrance and starts pushing inside, the stretch deliciously burning. “Oh my god, Kook,” you whimper, hand clutching onto his biceps for support. “So big. You feel so good.” He groans, slithering himself deeper. His forehead rests onto yours, few ragged breaths before you murmur, “You can move.”

He sets a punishing pace from the beginning, fucking you hard and fast; wet, slapping noises filling the kitchen. You’re a blubbering mess, moaning incoherently as he splits your pussy open, thrust after thrust. “Yeah, fucking take it,” Jungkook rasps, grabbing your hips even harder, no doubt leaving there marks. “Cream my cock like a good girl.”

You mewl in response, your eyes focusing on his parted lips. “J-jungkook,” you stutter, head completely deprived of rational thoughts. “Spit in my mouth.” It’s almost a breathless plea on your tongue.

He curses, his right hand squeezing your cheeks. “Open.” You do it right away, nearly moaning when he purses his lips and spits, eyes almost bulging out of his head when he sees you swallow it greedily. “Dirty fucking girl.” he growls.

“B-but you love it, right?” you whimper, eyes glossy because he's hitting that spot inside your pussy that makes your toes curl. “L-love when I’m like this just for you.”

“Fuck, yeah I do,” Jungkook says, placing his hand around your throat. He doesn’t apply pressure and simply rests it there, urging you to look directly at him. “I love when my pretty baby becomes a dirty slut for me.” He punctuates his words with a harsh buck of his hips that makes you cry out.

You can't take it anymore. “K-kook,” you whine, grabbing his wrist and urging him to squeeze your throat. “I love you.”

Despite his hand around your neck and cock abusing your cunt, he breaks into a smile. He leans down to kiss you on your putty lips. You try to keep up with him but there’s no use for that, so you just open your mouth and let him slither his tongue inside. When he pulls away, your lips are wet with saliva. Messy, but you wouldn’t exchange it for anything less. “Love you too, baby.” he groans in a strained voice, dragging his cock fast through your walls.

As if reading your mind, his thumb reaches to rub fast circles on your clit. “’m so close,” you mumble, thighs shaking.

“C'mon, pretty. Wanna see you come around me.” Jungkook murmurs, gone is his dominant aura, it’s now only his gentle voice coaxing you into an earth-shattering orgasm.

When you come down from your high, you’re swatting his fingers away from your core. Normally you would probably indulge into it more, but oversensitivity seems to be too much to handle for you today. Jungkook thrusts his hips a few more times and follows right after you, groaning your name and spilling himself inside.

“That was nice.” he comments breathlessly and you can’t help but chuckle, widing your arms around his neck and pulling him for a well-deserved kiss.

“I’m too tired to move my legs and somebody needs to finish the cake,” you pout, not an ounce of exaggeration in your statement because that’s utterly true–you’re always too spent after a round of fucking with Jungkook to even go to the bathroom on your own. He gladly carries you there in his arms bridal-style every, single time.

“It's okay, sweetheart. I’ll do it.” he says, making you giggle under your breath triumphantly.

You might be willing to do everything for you boyfriend but if anything, you’re equal in that department.

“I’m also pretty sure there’s flour on my ass.”

Jungkook raises his brow at you. “That I’m not going to clean.”

“Fine. But next time I'm putting whipped cream on your dick.” you decide.

When he pulls out of you, his cum spills out of your hole but he's quick to catch the droplets and push them back inside you with his fingers. “You’re a little minx, you know that, right?” he says and then licks his digits clean.

“You love me anyway.” He grins, leaning to kiss you but he stops mid-way. “What is it?” you ask, raising your brows.

“Since I came inside you, we can call it a creampie, right?”

Still slightly dazed after sex, you’re not quick enough to realise what he implies before it’s too late. “I mean yes but–oh my god. No, no, no! Stop!”

“Cream-pie!”

“I hate you!”

“And I love you too.”

After all, you were worrying about the dinner too much, as always.

Everybody complimented your cake. Jungkook's mother was delighted. His father talked about fishing for almost an hour.

But your sweet boyfriend's smirking face as he ate the cake was telling you were in for a long night of sinning in your bed as soon as you went back home.

And he obviously didn’t disappoint.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #bangtanhq

1K notes · View notes

echo-of-sounds · 4 years

Text

smut alphabet - fatgum

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After sex, Taishiro enjoys a nice, warm bubble bath to unwind and clean up. As you relax, preferably with you resting against his stomach, he’ll run soap all over your sweaty skin then gently massage your lower back. When you’re bent over the bed, your back takes a lot of the stress with him pounding you from behind.

Following your bath, he’ll take as much skin-to-skin contact as he can get. It doesn’t matter if you’re lounging on the couch or laying in bed. He just wants to enjoy you. Feeling your body safe in his arms puts him at ease. And he’s super warm, so he’s the best to cuddle with during chilly nights.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Oh, he adores your tummy. All of it. Any surface, from your collar bones to your hips, he’ll kiss and lick and tickle and worship. Anything you consider a flaw or ugly, he commends. It’s not an exaggeration. You’re an icon. He’d kneel before you, honoring each stretch mark, revering every scar, bumps, or ‘defect,’ whispering into your skin as he kisses the whole of your stomach. If you’re ticklish, be prepared for him to blow raspberries.

On himself, he’s fond of his hands and smile. His smile attracts people. It’s big, friendly, and bright. His hands, though often used for maiming, are delicate and graceful whenever they glide over you. They’re strong, broad, heavy, and thick. Those apply to his fingers as well.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s flavorful, to say the least: rather bitter with salty undertones. Most of the time, he uses condoms as he enjoys cumming inside you, but he also doesn’t want to risk pregnancy when you’re not planning for it.

It’s thick, and he loves watching it ooze out of you. Once his orgasm builds, he withdraws so only his head remains inside and pumps himself, cumming near your entrance. He’ll stroke your lower tummy, whispering how beautiful you are, singing praise after praise when you push his cum out. He’ll probably lick it up too.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t really have a dirty secret. He’s quite open about what he likes and wants, and what he’s done. Regardless, he fantasizes watching you play and suck on a lollipop, occasionally using it to pleasure yourself, then lick your wetness off of it. But he knows that isn’t healthy. Food, as good as it is to eat, shouldn’t be going inside.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

While Tai may not be a Casanova, he knows how to pleasure someone. Oral is where his confidence lies. He can easily move your body around, sucking soft skin, dragging his tongue over wherever you need. He also has enough experience to know how much he needs to prepare you for penetrative sex. Making sure you’re stretched, lubricated, and ready is one thing he does without fail.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He isn’t picky. If he’s having fun and you’re having fun, it’s a splendid position. In doggy-style positions, he fancies the view of your hips wriggling and ass bouncing. And in missionary/right angle positions, your moaning face is a delight to see. Your legs will be held against his stomach as he’s thrusting into you, watching your breasts and mouth. He’ll occasionally open them to fondle more of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Despite his normal, feel-good, cheerful mood, he becomes a bit serious once in the moment. That doesn’t mean he won’t laugh, joke, or smile. Because he absolutely does! But his general feel is more acute, focusing on your body, praising your mouth and skill to hell and back.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

There’s a tuft of hair down there with a little trail leading up to his belly button. It’s a sandy blond that darkens to dirty blond around his base. He doesn’t shave: it makes him feel weirdly naked. He may trim after a while, but he typically keeps it at a manageable semi-long.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You won’t have to ask for flowers, a candlelit dinner, and soft music. One random day, you’ll open the door to all of that and more, and your smiling boyfriend holding a present. It’s a cute, new teddy he wants you to wear. After dinner, he whisks you away to the bedroom, continuing the romance for the rest of the night.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It happens more than Tai cares to admit. A Hero’s job isn’t easy. Masturbating works excess stress off. And he gets more adrenaline boners than others. He doesn’t know why. He’s been that way since he was a teenager. In the wake of a fight, he hurries home, jumps in the shower, and relieves himself. It’s over pretty quickly. However, if you’re home, he’s very willing to receive a blowjob. You know… if you want.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s very vocal. Not in the constantly moaning way. He just talks a lot, worshiping and praising your body and everything you do. It’s natural to him. He only wants you to know how good you are at sucking him and how beautiful you look gasping at the sheets and how stunning your slightly teary eyes are each and every thrust.

Going off that, it may not be a kink per se, but it arouses him seeing your eyes water. It’s not sadistic. He’d hate to bring you genuine pain. It’s about seeing you so horny, captivated, passionate, and immersed in all the pleasure to the point you can’t contain it, so it comes out as tears, floods his heart in love and warmth. He’ll do anything to see you like that every time.

Some softer kinks are anal and toys. He enjoys exploring your body and finding fresh ways to have fun. Anal isn’t one he partakes in a lot because of his size. It’d take much more preparation, and he worries about hurting you.

Being a Daddy is another thing he enjoys. It’s not his primary interest, and he can certainly live without it. He just likes being a protector, a comforter, keeping you safe from the world as you cuddle on the couch. He’s open to having rules, punishments, and willing to explore the overall lifestyle.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Not only is Taishiro incredibly tall, but he’s also strong and heavy. He’s broken more than his fair share of furniture. And yes, some of that was because he was screwing his partner over a table, putting his entire weight behind each thrust. Considering this issue, he tends to stick to the bed, couch, and sometimes the bathtub (really just any place that he won’t break).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you’re licking a popsicle, slurping the drippings, he’s interested. When you’re sucking on a lollipop, twirling your tongue around it, he’s very interested. He simply approves of you using your mouth in domestic-yet-arousing ways.

Overall, it doesn’t take much to work him up. You can just ask for sex, and he’s down. Lingerie is cute, especially if it’s a simple matching bra and panty set with some frills. It’s basic yet endearing. It also lets him appreciate your tummy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s open to trying most things once. He wants to experience something before deciding his stance on it.

Sex in public is the main one. He’s a Pro Hero. Public indecency would ruin his career. And he’s a huge guy. He can’t exactly hide. So even if he wanted to, it’d be incredibly hard to fondle each other while in public.

He won’t ever put your or his health in danger. The extreme side of BDSM (blood, CBT [not the therapy], and whips) and any sort of bodily fluid/waste are off-limits. Those hold no interest to him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Tai eats… everything. You’re no exception to his hunger. He’s a firm believer in going down on his partner. His tongue, like his fingers, is broad, thick, and heavy. Because of his size, he’s become quite proficient at giving oral to prepare others.

He starts with feather-light kisses along your thighs, getting you excited before even touching you. When you’re shaking to his liking, he removes your underwear to continue his kisses, gradually increasing in pressure. His first licks are around where you want them. Only when you’re moaning from that does he finally lick along you, pushing his tongue inside, sucking your clit in between his lips. He likes you orgasming at least once before he fingers you.

To treat him, oral cock warming is the best option. While he’s watching Tv, just plop down between his legs and keep him in your mouth, sipping on all his precum. When it’s time to move, lick under his foreskin. It causes the loudest groans.

Unlike some guys, he doesn’t like it when you gag on him. It doesn’t make him feel big. He knows he’s big. Because of that and his size, he never grabs your head. He won’t force you any lower than you choose.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He fluctuates between slow-and-hard and fast-and-flattering. Sometimes he prefers measured thrusts, taking his time pulling out, watching you stretch around him, then intensely sinking inside so hard your whole body shakes. Other times he enjoys holding your hips at the perfect angle, thrusting quick, complimenting how well you’re taking him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies don’t bother him. They happen. And he certainly won’t turn one down if you happen to get all riled up in the kitchen. Just make sure you’re someplace he won’t break.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Again, Tai will try most things at least once. And he’s game for any experimentation. If you have a new trick or toy, he’s open. But risks? He isn’t as interested. He’s a Hero. He doesn’t want to jeopardize his career for an alleyway blowjob.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

One round is his normal. He isn’t some sex god. Since he focuses so much on preparing and stretching you in the beginning, one session usually lasts a good forty to fifty minutes.

If he’s worked up over something, or it’s just a highly horny day, he can go for two rounds. That easily lasts for over an hour. You’ll definitely need some rest after that. Take three ibuprofen and relax in the bath together.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any despite enjoying them. He hasn’t been in a relationship long enough to buy sex toys together. If you have any, he’d love to incorporate them. If you want any, he’ll look for some online and surprise you with the toy one day.

He’s interested in a few BDSM toys to use on you, mostly nipple clamps, furry wrist cuffs, and a paddle with little heart cut-outs so they get imprinted on your ass. Purple is his preferred color, particularly lilac or lavender. No matter your size, skin color, and scars, purple looks downright gorgeous on you. Almost too much so because it gets him riled up and thrusting gasping-bed-creaking-and-toe-curling deep.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tai will tease you to tears. He just loves the sounds you make when you’re desperate: whining for his fingers, fussing for his mouth, begging for him to finally touch you, and, most importantly, how you cry for his dick, how you whimper when he first fills you, then your gasps from his thrusts. He can’t get enough, and he’ll do damn near anything to hear more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His noises are moderate in volume and perfectly handsome. His groans are deep and exciting whenever you suck him just right. Although, if talking counts, he’s on the higher end of the spectrum because his mouth just keeps on moving.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When people are only attracted to him when he’s skinny, he feels weird. He’s not sure if it’s insecurity, uncertainty, or something else. He hardly recognizes himself when he looks in the mirror and sees a six-pack. That’s not his body. His quirk relies on fat. His body’s supposed to be fat. Those stares and giggles he receives because of his abs don’t flatter him like it may other people. He wants his partner to love his body for everything it is.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Just like the rest of him, Taishiro is big. And thick. And heavy. The corona of glans is the widest part. So much so, his foreskin has trouble retracting past it. Don’t worry. It’s not phimosis, and it doesn’t pain him in any way.

When he’s entering, his head pops inside suddenly, stretching you for his near 8-inch length. You’ll undeniably feel its weight inside you. The middle of his shaft is quite wide as well, covered in an array of veins.

Hence why foreplay is always a must. No exception. He needs to stretch you plenty and apply enough lube because it’s a lot. If it’s too painful, or you just don’t want him to push all the way inside, he understands. Halfway is more than enough for him to feel pleasure.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It fluctuates. Most of it depends on his quirk and work. If his energy/fat is depleted, so is his sex drive. His body mainly focuses on restocking what it’s lost instead of unnecessary matters. During his good weeks, it’s fairly high, especially at the beginning of your sexual relationship. It wants to get as much of you as possible in the shortest amount of time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

While Tai has built up plenty of endurance from his career, something about sex tires him out. It could be the drained hormones and bliss-filled afterglow. It could be the gentle and loving feeling that floods him after watching you orgasm. It could be seeing you so spent and weak that he wants to do nothing but hold and protect you. It’s probably all three. After cleaning up, he loves laying down, cuddling naked while you both drift off to sleep.

#fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #fatgum smut #fatgum headcanons #smut alphabet #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha headcanons #bnha

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mellowswriting · 4 years

Note

2, 3, & 48 with the least expected choice: JAVI BB! 😭 Please I just starve for domestic!Javi a lot

Second Chance

pairing || Javier Peña x F!Reader

summary || Javier comes back to the U.S after taking down Escobar to find you - and what he finds changes his life forever.

word count || 4,824

warnings || angst with a happy ending, soft dad Javi, allusions to sex

a/n || This was so interesting to write, because Javier as a dad??? Yes please! Also because I’m so used to writing mainly fluff that angst can get a little tricky for me. Thank you for this little writing challenge, anon!

Main Masterlist | Join the taglist!

Two years. It had been nearly two years since Javier had seen you - correction, since he had watched you walk out with tears in your eyes and did nothing to stop you like a fool. It was one of his biggest regrets, and that was saying something coming from a man whose job required him to make hard and fast decisions that often left people dead. All he could do was hope and fucking pray that you wouldn’t slam the door in his face.

Even if he did deserve it.

A drive that typically would’ve taken only an hour from the airport took nearly double that, Javier’s hands shaking and stomach turning the entire time. He should’ve done this sooner, should’ve followed you out that door or hopped onto a plane and met you back in the States. Nothing felt right without you, the world around him slightly distorted by your absence. An absence that was entirely his fault.

He shouldn’t have snapped at you. All you had wanted from him was the promise that he would try to play it safer. It was a simple reassurance that he could have given you if he hadn’t been such a moron and snapped at you that if you couldn’t handle the realities of his job, you had no business sticking around. You were scared, worried for him after one of his harebrained plans nearly got his head blown off.

And all Javier had done was make you feel stupid for caring about him. It didn’t help that he did nothing to try to fix it the next day; he was embarrassed, ashamed of his immaturity. And you left because of it. He hated himself for it. He would only hate himself more if he didn’t go to you now that he had taken down Escobar. Better late than never, right? He was back in the states and could’ve gone anywhere, done anything, especially now that he was so well known for his hard work in Colombia. Instead, he used that new status to find out where you ended up and scribbled your address onto a crumpled piece of paper.

It was a nice house. The kind he always hoped you would get, picturesque with the neatly trimmed front yard and picket fence. The sun had just risen enough to tint the sky by the time he pulled up and killed the engine, his millionth cigarette of the day perched between his fingers. You were home. Tiny movements that he could see from the windows and the car parked in your driveway told him that much.

The love of his life was right there. Less than twenty yards away, practically nothing separating the two of you after so long. That realization had Javier finally shoving the car door open and stepping out - and damn near getting himself run over in the process. In his haste, his excitement, he didn’t even glance around himself enough to see the car approaching and… pulling into your driveway?

A spike of fear shot through him. Please, fuck, don’t let that be a man. Don’t let that be some man who is going to walk through the door and kiss your cheek as you welcome him home from work and…

No. A woman, brunette. Launching herself out of the car and practically skipping up to the door. She didn’t bother knocking, just walked right in and closed the door behind her. Something familiar about her tickled the back of Javier’s brain, the hazy memory of a polaroid of her next to you wearing matching goofy grins. Ah, your sister. Amelia, if he remembered correctly.

Javier hesitated at her appearance. He didn’t want to interrupt something. God knows you were already going to be pissed enough at him. So he leaned against his door and puffed on that cigarette like it was his only lifeline, ready to wait for however long it took.

Just his luck that he wouldn’t have to wait long. The door reopened not fifteen minutes later and the two of you both appeared on the porch and holy fuck, Javier’s heart was ready to fly out of his chest just at the sight of your smile as you chatted with your sister. He watched, enraptured, that damn cigarette damn near falling from his lips, his heart leaping at the way your head tilted back with a big laugh. God, he missed that sound.

You turned and poked your head back into the doorway and called something that he couldn’t hear, pausing before rolling your eyes and walking back inside. You appeared again a second later with -

A kid? Propped on your hip with your arm propped under them with ease.

Javier’s heart dropped. Of course. He should’ve known that someone would have scooped you up the second you returned home. If he hadn’t have been such a fucking idiot, that could have been him building a home with you and fuck, he had to leave. He needed to get in his car and fucking go before you -

“Javier?”

It had been so long since he heard you say his name. Even when it was layered with surprise, his name never sounded better than when it was falling from your lips. Javier froze with his hand on the handle. He could hear your sister’s ill attempt at whispering, the harshness of “Wait, the Javier? The one that -” that you cut off before she could finish.

Javier turned, his heart flying in his chest, and started walking up to the gate. The shake in his hands was undeniable when he lifted the latch. Your mouth hung open, chest rising and falling rapidly with your almost frantic breathing, the little girl perched on your hip seeming confused. She was yours, that much was obvious. Her nose, her lips - that little girl was your daughter.

Something in you snapped back into place, your mouth closed and a fake smile quickly replaced it as you turned your softening gaze to your little girl. “Okay, you have fun with Aunt Amelia, okay? Mommy loves you.”

Javier watched the exchange with a heavy heart, watched as your daughter gave you the tiniest kiss on your cheek with a small ‘pop’ of her lips, watched as your sister took her and gave him a wide berth as she went to strap her into the carseat in her car. The moment she was out of your sight, the warmth from your eyes fell away and regarded him with something colder, something angry and sad.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked.

“It’s done.” He mumbled, his fists clenching at his sides. “All of the bullshit with Escobar, it’s over.”

“Yeah, I know.” You scoffed at the surprised look he gave you. “What, you think I didn’t keep track of you after I left? Just because I wasn’t around doesn’t mean I stopped caring about whether you lived or died. That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I never should have let you leave. I… I shouldn’t have driven you away to begin with.” Shame flooded him for the millionth time at the flash of hurt in your eyes before you looked away from him, your eyes falling to the ground. “The kid… uh, congratulations I mean. I didn’t know you started a family, I never would’ve shown up like this. I’m not a homewrecker.”

“The kid?” You repeated, your voice incredulous, and Javier cringed. Yeah, not the most eloquent way to put it, but he was never good with words.

“Yeah, uh, she’s a cute kid. You and your… husband or whatever, you got lucky.” Every word that fell from his lips, he regretted. They were true, sure, but holy hell did it sound so awkward coming from him.

“The kid.” You scoffed again, a sound he hadn’t realized he missed so much. You finally locked eyes with him, somehow even more guarded than before. “She’s yours.”

Javier blinked. The words didn’t compute, his brain falling blank at the very thought that he… no, no fucking way. He took a half step back, his mouth falling open. He watched you watch him, watched the way your eyes studied his every movement. Air rushed in and out of his chest rapidly, black spots blinked at the edges of his vision, and suddenly his ass was hitting the hard stone of your porch.

He barely heard the rough, concerned way you said “Shit, Javi!”, barely noticed you disappear from his side. No, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t accept that. There was no way in hell that his stupid fucking mistake deprived him of this, of his family. Of watching you bring his child into the world and watching her grow, teaching her how to walk on unsteady feet and picking her up when she cried. Of you teaching him how to gently pull her pretty brown hair into the little sprigs of pigtails, just like she wore when he caught a glance of her before she was whisked away.

The cold, wet feeling of a cloth dragging across his forehead made his eyes refocus and there you were. Your eyes, once cold and hesitant now tinged with concern as you gently drug a washcloth down each of his cheeks, trying to pull him out of his panicked state. You were murmuring something to him, something he couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Javier’s hand grasped at yours, pressing it against his cheek tightly.

“Name.” He rasped. “What’s her name?”

You paused, a small smile perking up the corners of your lips. “Elianna. We call her Ellie.”

Ellie.

Javier had a daughter.

“I have a daughter?” Javier needed to hear you say it again.

“You have a daughter.” You nodded and pulled your hand away from his cheek, much to Javier’s disappointment. He missed your touch. You patted him hard on the shoulder before hauling him up. “Come on, we have a lot to talk about. Might as well do it on the couch where it’s comfortable.”

The inside of your home was just as picturesque as the outside, but in a completely different way. Colorful toys were strewn about the living room, a few soft baby blankets crumpled on the couch. It was comfortable, lived-in. Happy. Javier sat heavily on the couch, mind almost on autopilot as he gently touched the blanket next to him, his fingers barely grazing the fabric like he was worried his touch would somehow taint it.

You handed him a cold bottle of water that he accepted graciously and sipped as you sat next to him, a foot-wide war zone of space between you that felt like a stab to his heart. If only he hadn’t fucked everything up. You would be curled up right against him, your head on his chest as the two of you watched the little girl you created together babble over her toys.

“Tell me about her?” Javier asked tentatively, his voice uncharacteristically small.

“What do you want to know?” The hesitance in your voice made him feel even worse.

“Anything. Everything.”

And you did. Javier watched and listened, enraptured as you gushed about little Ellie. At nearly fifteen months old, she was damn near running and constantly getting into everything. She was curious and bright and laughed like she couldn’t breathe when you would roll around on the floor and play with her. Just the sight of the happiness and light in your eyes when you retold the first time you heard her say ‘mama’ made pride swell in his chest.

The intense urge to have her here with him pulled at him, but he knew better than to ask. You were already indulging him by bringing him into your home and answering his questions. Hell, he was lucky you told him to begin with. He could feel the intensity of your gaze on his face as he tried to absorb all of the information that was dumped on him. Silence filled the living room when you trailed off, a few heavy moments where he didn’t know what to say.

“I know you have questions, Javier.” You said, your words slow and deliberate. Clipped, like you were terrified he was going to disappear once again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Javier whispered.

“Well, I didn’t know I was pregnant when I left.” You began with a sigh. “I thought that the nausea and the missed period were from stress, because god knows I was wrecked. I found out a few weeks after I got back to the U.S and… I just didn’t see the point to tell you.”

“Didn’t see the point? Of telling me you were having my child?” His voice rose with his anger, his frustration and he watched as those walls slammed down, your vulnerability hardening in less than a second. He took a deep breath before continuing, trying his damnedest to soften his voice. “Do you really think so little of me?”

“Are you kidding me, Javier? You had just told me to leave. Was I supposed to think it would change anything?” You deflated into the cushions slightly and the sight of the exhaustion and pain in your eyes made some of his anger fall away. You rubbed a hand down your face. “Was I supposed to hop back on a plane back to Colombia? Put myself and my baby in danger? Or maybe I should have just called you. ‘Hey, Javier, I know you just told me to get out of your life, but surprise! I’m carrying your child!’ How would that have gone over?”

“But after? How could you not…” Javier choked up, unable to finish his sentence. You were right, he knew that. But he was grieving the loss of everything he had missed out on. He couldn’t blame you, not really. It was an impossible situation.

“I wanted to. There were these moments that… it took everything in me not to call you and beg you to come to me like some pathetic little…” You trailed off with a shake of your head, your voice cracking. “But I couldn’t. The closer you got to catching Escobar, I just… I couldn’t pull you away from the fight when you were so close to winning. The past few weeks, though? God, I almost called you at least a dozen times. The second I heard about it, I wanted you here, but I was so… so scared, Javi.”

And there it was. Javier’s heart snapped in half. He broke your heart and you managed to still prioritize his career, his fight against Escobar, while you brought his child into the world and shouldered that responsibility on your own. He cleared his throat harshly and squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to hold back those traitorous tears that threatened to fall.

“You don’t have to be scared. If you’ll have me, I swear to god, you will never do this alone again.” Javier whispered, his eyes still closed. Debilitating fear kept him from looking at you, afraid to see the rejection on your face. “I want to be here, I want this. I want my family.”

“Do you mean that?” Your voice trembled with disbelief.

“Of course I do, hermosa.” He insisted. “Please, give me the chance to show you.”

The small, relieved sigh that came from you made something tight ease in his chest and Javier hesitantly brought you into his arms. You relaxed into his side with your head propped on his shoulder, the both of you taking refuge in the familiarity of the touch that was missed for so long. He felt you look up at him and met your eyes, hoping you could see his sincerity. Words had a tendency to fail him but he still had his actions. He absentmindedly licked his lips before asking, “Can I kiss you?”

You smiled at him, a small smile that was still a bit sad, but a smile nonetheless, and nodded. “I've missed your kisses. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He confessed and finally kissed you. After two years, Javier felt the softness of your lips against his and finally felt like he was home.

----------

Javier’s knee bounced rapidly as he sat on your couch hours later, his nerves bounding untethered and desperate for any outlet. Just on the outside on the porch, you had stepped out to greet Amelia, who had brought Ellie home.

His daughter was on the other side of the door and he was about to meet her, for real this time. Excitement and fear warred with each other, neither able to win out over the other in their rising volume. Excitement at getting to hold her, maybe even make her smile. Fear over the possibility of hurting her or being too rough - he didn’t have much experience with babies, after all.

The door pushed open and he heard you call his name softly. “Can you grab these bags for me?”

He was on his feet in an instant, glad to be of help and already jumping at the chance to start proving himself to be a good father. A mess of brown curls poked out from the baby blanket you had draped over your chest where Ellie was apparently still fast asleep, distracting him slightly as he grabbed the bags from Amelia. She… did not look too happy to see him. The hardness in her glare told him something that didn’t need to be vocalized: if he hurt you or Elllie, his body would never be found.

Javier nodded slightly at her. He couldn’t blame your sister. If he were in her position, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would be breaking noses. At your request, he set the bags on the kitchen table before walking back to you - and the sight of you swaying in the middle of the living room with Ellie knocked out against you, your cheek propped against the top of her head, took his breath away. The smile you gave him brought him closer, his hand settling on Ellie’s back softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Do you want to hold her?”

It took a moment of maneuvering, but the second you settled Ellie against him chest-to-chest, his entire world came into focus. Her cheek pressed against his chest just so, making her mouth form the tiniest little ‘o’ that he had ever seen. She was so calm, sleeping so deeply, and Javier couldn’t fucking believe his luck. How could he have had any part in creating something so perfect?

He had to sit down. He didn’t trust himself to hold her with unskilled hands while standing. She harrumphed slightly when he eased down onto the couch, but other than that, his little girl stayed off in her dreamworld, content and safe in her father’s arms for the first time.

“Just be careful not to touch the bottoms of her feet even a little bit, it wakes her up every time. She’s just like you with that.” You said, your voice lowered as you sat next to him much closer than before. He preened under the idea that any part of him was reflected in Ellie, even something so small and silly.

“She’s so warm. Is that normal?” Javi asked. He hoped she didn’t have a fever, he knew that a fever could really hurt a baby even with his limited knowledge. You reached out to gently feel her forehead and cheek, smiling after a moment.

“No, she's just a little furnace.” You settled against the back of the couch with a content smile. God, this just felt so right. Having you so close and smiling, having his daughter asleep and safe against him. He could feel the pieces snapping together, could feel himself becoming whole. “Yet another thing she has in common with you.”

“What else?” Javier whispered, desperate to hear everything.

“Hmm, let’s see. You have the same grumpy face.” You laugh when he glanced up at you, his eyebrows ticked together and lips pursed slightly. “Mhmm, that’s the one. Plus she hates carrots. Acts like I’ve personally offended her if I even offer them.”

“That’s because carrots are fucking disgusting.” Javi grumbles goodnaturedly as he gently rubs Ellie’s back. She’s so small, such a tiny, delicate little creature, and he can’t believe it. Any of it. You let him in after everything, took him in and introduced him to an entirely new world of possibility, one where if he was smart and did right by his two little ladies, he would get the life he always dreamed of.

Your fingers brushed an errant lock of hair from his face and Javi sighed, his eyes falling closed as he leaned into the soft touch that he missed so much. He hummed happily, practically purring like a pleased cat, when your fingers buried further in his hair and massaged over his scalp. Heaven. He was in heaven.

A gentle stirring against his chest made Javier glance down at Ellie and that first glimpse of her big brown eyes only confirmed what he already felt deep in his soul - this little girl was his everything. It was the most basic, simple thing he had ever felt, no question to be had about any of it.

Ellie wiggled against him, trying to get herself upright, and Javier immediately held her under her arms to sit her on his thigh. She looked inquisitively up at him from his lap, glancing over at you to confirm that you were nearby before staring at him as if he was the most interesting thing he has ever seen. Her little hand reached up to tug at his mustache, giving him a toothy grin at the way he laughed.

There were tears in his eyes and he couldn’t even deny them, couldn’t pretend they weren’t there. Javier could see them mirrored in your eyes as you watched Ellie stand in her father’s lap and try to balance herself with her hands on his shoulders.

You cleared your throat. “She’s about to start bouncing.”

“What? Whoa!” Javier exclaimed at the sudden feeling of what seemed like Ellie falling in his lap, his hands rushing for a firmer grip only for her to pop right back up and do it all over again. All three of you cracked up, your melodic laughter mixing with Ellie’s high giggling in the most beautiful way.

That night Javier got to cut up his daughter's food and help spoon bites into her mouth, sat at the table with Ellie and the love of his life, eating dinner like a family. He could picture this for the rest of his life. Eating breakfast and dinner together. Kissing the both of you goodbye in the morning and returning to his daughter running down the hall to wrap him in a hug. Chasing Ellie around a park and helping her down slides and pushing her on the swings.

This was his second chance, and he was going to do it right. God help him, he was not going to miss out on anything else. So when he saw the hesitance in your eyes that night after putting Ellie to bed, Javier settled himself on the couch with nothing but a gentle kiss to your forehead. There was no reason to push you. He wanted you to be comfortable, he owed you that much.

A week went by like that. Javier would rise in the morning to the sounds of you coming downstairs with Ellie on your hip and stretch, realigning his spine and pulling the tension from his sore back. He offered small pieces of affection and grinned every time they were accepted - a small peck on the lips here, his arm raised for you to curl closer on the couch there. Little Elianna was all too happy to join in on those little couch cuddle sessions, too, clambering into his lap or yours and snuggling close.

It seemed like the more Ellie warmed up to him, the more you did as well. Javi caught those small smiles when you watched him help ease his little girl to sleep for a nap. The more he proved himself to be a good father, the more comfortable you were letting him in, and it felt like progress. You laughed openly at his stupid jokes, reached out for him for affection of your own volition - kisses over coffee, holding hands as he pushed Ellie in the stroller - and it felt so good.

Javier fluffed up a pillow before tossing it against the arm of the couch, but before he could collapse his exhausted body into the cushions, he felt your hand curl around his bicep. The look in your eyes was almost afraid and worry clenched his stomach, but before he could spiral, you pulled him close and leaned up to kiss him.

A surprised sound hummed against your lips but Javi quickly regained himself to kiss you back. There was something softer about the way your lips pressed against his, something that had been absent from the quick, nearly chaste kisses you shared since he returned. This time you parted your lips and licked along the curve of his bottom lip, your hand coming up to press against his jaw and pull him even closer.

“You aren’t sleeping on that couch anymore.” You whispered against his lips.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Javi grumbled as he pressed even closer and kissed you again and again, slowly guiding you back to your bedroom.

He woke up the next morning with his bare chest against your back, his face buried in your hair, and he didn’t think life could get any better. His arms tightened around you as he gently rubbed up and down your side, the soft touch easing you out of sleep. The way you groaned made him smile; it was a sound he missed, even if it though was grumpy. You rolled over in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck to drag him over you, smiling sleepily at him before kissing him.

“My thighs are fucking aching, Javier.” You grumbled against him as you pressed a line of kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

He shivered at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. “Mm, yeah, and you love it.”

You giggled in that way that made his stomach flip. “Fair enough.”

The door pushed open suddenly, almost hard enough to crack against the wall, and Ellie appeared on your side of the bed, her arms raised as she waited impatiently to be picked up. Javier happily pulled her up onto the bed. Scratch his earlier assumption - now his life couldn’t get any better. He watched Ellie jump and tumble around the sheets with happy squeals and that’s when he heard it. At first, he thought maybe he was hearing things until he saw the way your mouth fell open into a big grin, your eyes flitting back and forth between father and daughter.

“Papaaaa!” Ellie called out, her hands opening and closing rapidly, reaching for him from the other side of the bed. She kept saying it, repeating the two syllables over and over until it all bled into one long call for her dad.

Javier pulled her into his arms and squished her to his chest tightly, his eyes on you as his heart fluttered high in his chest. He couldn’t find the words, his voice choked out by his overwhelming love for the little family he had. He watched as you shuffled forward to kneel next to him and kiss the top of Ellie’s head, then his lips, pride shimmering in your eyes.

“Marry me.” Javier said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your jaw dropped. “Javi… you don’t have to do this. I - I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Are you kidding me? I want to grow old with you, have kids with you, even have a fucking white picket fence.” It was as if the faucet was turned on and there was no stopping the words he so desperately wanted to say. “None of this is out of obligation, hermosa. I want you to be my wife.”

“Yes.” There were tears in your eyes as you listened to the words you had longed to hear for far too long. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Javier surged forward and kissed you again, and in that bed with the precious little girl the two of you created together and the promise of being yours forever, he knew he was right where he belonged.

{Taglist}

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