#I work hard on learning how to put it up in buns

[inkchwe]

high & dry | 𝖍𝖛𝖈

➸ First story in the @hogwartsaltior universe! ୨୧ pairing: chwe (vernon) hansol x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 4.5k ୨୧ genre: fluff ୨୧ tags: hogwartsaltior!au, dj!vernon, gardener!reader ୨୧ synopsis: Vernon is good with his words behind a microphone and with hundreds of students listening to him. Why is it so hard to talk to one girl in the gardening club?

“Thank you for listening to Chwe’s Power Hour sponsored by Hogwarts Altior. Have a good day and night folks.” Vernon puts the headphones down on his makeshift desk, surrounded by studio equipment and paperwork that he always neglects to turn in on time. His homework also sits unfinished in his backpack, but he’ll worry about that later. His focus is on looking over the stats for his latest stream.

Dokyeom, Vernon’s roommate and fellow Gryffindor, gives him a thumbs up as he scours the laptop screen in front of him for the numbers Vernon’s after. “Best show so far man.”

“But do the views say that?” Vernon looks over Dokyeom’s shoulder, anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

“Read it and weep, kid.” To his surprise, his best friend is actually right for once. Almost two hundred students listening in, both on and off campus. The outreach Vernon’s radio show has gotten so far is something to be incredibly proud of, but he wants more. Maybe if he can prove music is not a waste of time, his parents may take him more seriously when he talks about switching majors.

“Holy shit,” Vernon says out loud, smiling at the evidence.

“I know.” Dokyeom closes his laptop and begins getting his stuff together. “Listen, I gotta head to Combat Training, but we’ll go over the next show tonight.”

They exchange handshakes as Dokyeom exits the tiny office space the university gave them as a studio, leaving Vernon alone with his thoughts to ponder during what remains of his lunchtime.

Astrology isn’t the worst degree in the world, not by a long shot. He likes to learn about the constellations, the stars, how the planets moved in tandem with one another in a symbiotic pattern. And sure, being in one of the longest educational tracks seemed daunting, according to his friends, but it’s interesting to look up at the sky and know there’s a system up there that needs to be understood and appreciated like everything else.

But does he love it? After a year of studying, that remains to be seen.

What he does love, though, is his Power Hour.

It gives him a zest to his daily routine that didn’t exist before. His schedule had just been friends, Quidditch, and studying. It was fine at first, but being without something that truly drove him to do more, be more, had become taxing after a while.

Walking out of the building, he decides to go home and eat lunch in the comfort of his bed before his next class, Star Charts.

Vernon loves to take note of the greenery as he passes the gardens towards the student quarters. But he knows it’s deadly to step foot near the many plants and flowers, not just because of his allergies. He doesn’t want to smell like a joint if he steps in the wrong spot thanks to Josh and Jeonghan’s extracurricular activities in the horticulture club.

What does make him stop today, however, isn’t just the plants. It’s mostly the girl plucking weeds from the ground at the entrance of the courtyard, stealing his breath in a way pollen never could.

Face caked in soot and a messy bun at the top of your head, you know a steamy shower is in your plans as soon as classes are over. You loosened the yellow tie around your neck hours ago to focus on the gardening work in front of you, but it turns out to be a bad decision due to it flopping around in the wind. If only the last root could give…

You look up to see a guy facing your direction, mouth lightly agape and seemingly looking directly at your spot on the ground. Was something or someone behind you that you failed to notice? You turn your head to look over your shoulder, finding nobody down the path or coming out of the greenhouse you were in prior to your work outside.

You look back in the guy’s direction, but he’s gone. He’s speed-walking up the path to the student quarters when you do catch the image of him, his back quickly going out of sight.

Shrugging, you go back to the stubborn weed that has taken up too much of your time. Maybe you’ll cut it at the base and call it a day.

Vernon scribbles the score of the student’s assignment on the front of the paper, relieved it’s the last in the stack. TA duties have been completed to fruition, possibly for the first time in weeks. He wishes him and Wonwoo got to switch TA positions, but Vernon’s aware that it breaks all kinds of moral codes for a TA to also be a student of the very professor they’re assisting.

At least Vernon gets to see the architecture of the Law building for reference in his drawings. He didn’t have any painting classes yet, but the more he could practice now, the better. If he was to ever become as good as his mother, anyway.

The tall doors of Professor Sung’s class open, and Vernon almost can’t believe his eyes.

It’s you. You’re not covered in dirt but still entirely breathtaking, holding a large potted plant in your hands. As you walk closer, careful not to bump into the desks on your way towards him, he is unsure what to say for the first time to capture your interest.

You smile and set the pot down on Professor Sung’s desk. Both of you speak at the same time, words blended on top of each other’s.

“Sorry to bother-“

“I’m allergic to pollen.”

Your face morphs into confusion, but you laugh all the same. Vernon wants to immediately crawl into a hole. Why in all things magical did he just let those words come out of his mouth? 

“Okay, noted.” You point to the plant. “This is for Professor Sung. It’s asphodel. No pollen, I promise.” You look over the graded papers on the desk. “You must be his TA.”

Vernon nods immediately and stops, feeling ridiculous again for being so eager and forthcoming with information. What was wrong with him? You were just a girl. A beautiful, cute, hardworking, breathtaking girl, but still a girl!

Your mouth goes slack in recognition, eyes suddenly widening. “I remember you now! You were outside of the student grounds the other day.”

Vernon laughs nervously. He puts the papers in front of him into a neat pile, trying to stifle his panic. All he remembers from that day is you and trying to run from the fact you caught him staring. The cringe he feels is excruciating. “Yeah. I like to look at the plants on my way to my room. You guys have done a great job with the…selection.”

You laugh again and bite your lip. “Yeah, it’s mostly me and Jeonghan. You probably know him.”

He nods again. “We practice together on the Quidditch field. Well, us and my roommate Seokmin.”

“I know Seokmin! And forgive me, I forgot to ask your name.” You hold your hand out politely and give him your name in turn.

How can a person be so gorgeous and nice? Vernon thinks maybe it has to do with your Hufflepuff placement, but he has a feeling the evidence lies in your personality. One he wants to get to know now as soon as possible.

“Hansol,” he replies after placing his palm in yours, your soft skin making him weak in the knees. “Most people know me as Vernon or DJ Chwe or Chwe but y’know—what I’m saying is, my name is Hansol.”

You smirk. “Nice to meet you, Hansol.”

You play on Vernon’s mind in a loop. The feeling mimics the visual graphic Dino made for Vernon’s radio station icon, the turning CD adorned with the words “CPH.”

“Alright, listeners, I hope that music mix brightened your day and leaves you in anticipation for the next one. My name is Hansol Vernon Chwe. Thank you for another installment of Chwe’s Power Hour, once again sponsored as always by Hogwarts Altior. And you have a good day and night. Peace!”

Dokyeom and Vernon take their. headphones off at the same time, Vernon’s best friend blowing out a breath. “At this rate, man, you’re going to be turning discs all over the world.”

Vernon chuckles. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, bro.”

“C’mon! You talk about it all the time. Pull the plug. Chase your dreams.” Dokyeom knocks Vernon in the shoulder with his fists multiple times, turning the younger boy into a heap of laughter. “And, maybe before that, let in the girl you’ve been talking about?”

Dokyeom motions for Vernon to look towards the clear windows of the station. When he does, he finds you there with a smile on your face, an entirely new plant in your hands. It’s smaller than the asphodel you harvested for Professor Sung. The plant, like its pot, is in an assortment of bright colors, mostly teals and greens.

Vernon motions for you to come inside, so you do. You greet Dokyeom before Vernon. “Seokmin and I share a free period, and he told me he helps you with your station stuff.” You smile and put the plant on Vernon’s desk near his headphones. “Don’t worry. No pollen.”

Vernon inspects it with his eyes, unfamiliar with the plant in front of him. His brows narrow in pure curiosity, and you answer the question that sits on the tip of his tongue.

“Muggles call them succulents. They’re really easy to take care of. Just a little sunlight and watering once a week should be enough.” You laugh to yourself and glance around the office space. “Thought the place could use some color.”

“Thank you,” Vernon says. His heart can’t help but be shaken up even more by your presence in his sacred space. He barely knows you, yet he’s so enraptured at your mere existence.

He used to make jokes about his friends when they were down bad for girls, ones that they knew were out of their leagues. Now, he feels like an asshole for doing so. Clearly the workings of the heart are something out of a person’s control.

Vernon isn’t idiotic enough to call it love, but it’s as intense as infatuation can be.

“I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you guys later.” As Dokyeom’s leaving, he raises his arms in the air in a silent chant for Vernon. Thankfully, you don’t notice Vernon’s idiotic best friend and roommate, entirely focused on him.

You stand there, unsure what to do now, but Vernon fills the space with the dumb courage he musters. “I was just on my way to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to join me?” 

He stutters, suddenly trying to play it cool. “I mean, unless you have a meeting or something with the gardeners. In which case, I don’t want to intrude—“

You raise your hand to shut him up, giggling. “I would love to, Han.”

The nickname on your lips makes his heart stop and start again in a millisecond. He could get used to that. Definitely.

On the brink of midnight, Vernon gets a text from Jeonghan.

[YJH]: Got party favors in the greenhouse. U in?

Vernon groans, stuffing his head in the pillow. Should he smoke when he has an early class tomorrow and another Power Hour special? Probably not.

But the second text that pops up makes Vernon sit up straight in his bed.

[YJH]: Your missus is our DD, if that changes your mind ;)

Lunch a few days ago had been a success. You laughed at all of his jokes and even took his hand when he offered to help you up from the picnic table. Although you exchanged numbers at the end of the “date,” he hadn’t found the nerve to text you.

But now, he won’t waste the opportunity to see you.

Vernon puts on his old Quidditch hoodie and a bit of cologne to mask the odor. The next step after he sees you is to do his laundry to avoid smelling as much as possible. Homework sits somewhere in the middle of that plan.

He closes the door to the greenhouse behind him, the smell of the herbs hitting his face immediately. It wasn’t a mystery how Josh continued to supply himself and his friends with…supplements. As the president of the Horticulture club, he can access any specimens at any time. Surely it should been you, your care for plants and flowers not going unnoticed by him and probably your other classmates. Pretty privilege has to apply, for sure. But you’re much prettier than Josh, too, so what the fuck’s up with that?

You smile when you see Vernon enter the greenhouse. Your new friend skates by the stoned, giggly man-children sitting in the lawn chairs and passing their joint around. Hoshi is practically asleep, eyes almost closed and chuckles leaving his lips at the speed of a young schoolgirl. Vernon has the passing thought about how ironic it is all the Slytherins he knows take up their efforts with “gardening” yet probably know only a handful of plants.

“Hey, flower child,” Vernon says, sitting next to you on the workbench.

“Oh, spare me. Is that my nickname now?” You jut out your bottom lip, pouting.

“I think it’s nice. It fits!” Vernon motions with his hands to the surrounding vines and other foliage within the greenhouse. 

You nod in agreement. “Okay, point taken.”

He looks over at the assignment you’re doing, some form of chemistry if he had to guess. “What’re you working on?”

“Lab stuff. If I want to be a herbologist, I have to pass this class,” you say with a groan.

“Wait, you’re telling me there’s actually something you’re not good at?”

You stick your tongue out at him, threatening to poke him with your pencil. “Just wait, you’ll see I have many flaws.”

He knows that can’t be true. To him, even the most minute flaw of yours is impeccable.

“But yeah, just balancing equations and the like. I know astrology is more metaphysical stuff, but—“

“I love chemistry,” Vernon says, standing up and grabbing leaves from random plants between his fingers. Strangely, the more he walks around and steps into your world, the more confident he feels. “Speaking of that, I wanted to ask—“

“Hansol, watch out!”

Little does Vernon realize his back is perfectly positioned in front of an adult sprig of venomous tantacula, the plant ready to spring for the sight of prey. In an instant, Vernon sees your wand appear from your side and ducks out of the way to avoid the impending spell.

“Diffindo!” The venomous tantacula shrivels as soon as its body is separated from the base of the plant. You breathe in a sigh of relief at the fact your friend has not met his demise at the hands of the creature. However, Vernon’s quick dive turned out to be a bad choice. He managed to drop into a large pile of terracota plant pots. Some of them cut up his arms and a small part of his face in the process of his crash landing.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask, bending down to inspect his face. You touch a hand to his cheek, moving his face in your direction. Vernon responds with a gummy smile.

“Nothing a bandaid can’t fix.” Vernon releases a breathless laugh.

“I have a medical kit somewhere around here.”

You run to find it. Vernon’s just dumbfounded and pleased he got so close to you on a technicality. Yes, his face is probably bleeding a good amount, but he knows it’s worth it to see your pillowy lips and doe eyes up close and personal.

When Joshua stumbles up to Vernon on the brick floor of the greenhouse, stoned out of his mind, he laughs like a madman. “Did you fall or something?”

Vernon smirks, resting his head happily on the ground. “You could say that.”

The collection of vinyls, CDs, and musical content in Vernon’s room is a marvel. The piles are mixed in with the typical items in a guy’s room, socks strewn about the floor and star charts leaning against the wall. When you call Vernon a slob in a playful tone, he can’t deny it.

“I have to be in the mood to clean,” Vernon says in his defense. 

You roll your eyes. You’ve met messier guys, but Vernon’s definitely making his way to the top of the list. “If I had to be in the mood to garden, half of the greenhouse would be withering away as we speak.”

“Is that how Josh keeps his presidential position, by only doing half of the work?” Vernon smirks, running his hands over the map in front of him. The homework needed to be done yesterday. Calling you as a reinforcement to make him focus is his best chance at getting it done.

Then again, seeing you now, he thinks that was a mistake. How can he focus when you’re in his room, chastising him to work and clean his room in such a cute way?

You may just be the end of his academic career as he knows it.

“No. Josh is a good president, and he really stands up for us with the student government. If he hadn’t advocated for muggle flora imports when they wanted to put more money in the Quidditch reserves, the greenhouse wouldn’t look half as good as it does right now.” You snap your fingers together. “Like the succulent in your radio station! Josh is technically to thank for that.”

“Don’t let him take the credit. I bet you put in a lot of effort growing that thing.”

You scoff and go back to inspecting his music collection. “Have you listened to every album you own?”

Vernon nods, smiling. “Some more than once. But that’s because some of those are my folks’ copies.” He gets up from his bed to stand next to you, tracing the outlines of the vinyl jackets with his fingers. “Like this one? Stevie Wonder’s In Square Circle? One of my favorites.”

The corners of your mouth turn up. “Surprises me you’re not a music undergrad. You already know so much.”

He chuckles sadly. “My parents thought it would be best to find something more practical to study.”

“Astronomy is practical?”

A smirk appears on his lips. “Point taken.”

You huff. “Anyway, it’s your life. It should be about what you love to dot. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer, but herbology’s my calling.”

“No kidding, flower child.”

“You know that nickname is cringe!”

In the midst of your banter, Vernon was unaware how much the distance between you closed. He can smell the perfume lingering on your neck, the scent of moondew driving him insane. His better impulses tell him not to stand so close. He should avoid inching further towards you. It’s wrong to focus on the look in your eyes that tells him not to stop.

Your breath hitches just a touch, and that’s his signal to throw all of his reservations out of the window. He presses your back to the vinyl player, caring little for the scratch of the record at the sudden movement. He can buy another one later.

He captures your lips with his and instantly feels every worry sap out of his being. You wrap your arms around him, hands firm against the back of his neck and fingertips grazing the ends of his hair. Magic in his world is not just exclusive to charms, potions, and cauldrons anymore.

He has you to thank for the definition expanding.

When a moan slips out of his mouth, you pull away breathless.

“Sorry if I was too forward. I—“ Vernon blurts out.

“No, no, don’t apologize.” You smile shyly. “I wanted you to.” You press your hands to his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palms. “Just don’t want to rush into anything.”

He nods without a second thought, hanging onto your words with glee. You’re into him. Enough to want him to kiss you, at least.

“Does this mean I can ask you on a proper date? Not just lunch after CPH?”

You giggle into his neck. “Yes, I would love that.”

After a month of secret kissing behind corridors, study dates in the library, and even Vernon helping tend to pollen-free plants in the garden with you, he may have to admit he’s fallen into the deep end.

But how does one say that, especially someone as terrible with non-lyrical words as him?

So, he decides the perfect way to tell you isn’t in the standard sense.

He writes.

He writes down his thoughts and feelings to a random beat that popped into his head, the rhymes that show up on the notepad in front of him exactly what’s inside of his heart. He makes final touches, moving a word around and then repeating some others. It’s not a full song, just the idea of one at this point, but it says what it needs to, and that’s more than enough.

Vernon texts his parents about his next special, and this time, they promise to listen. Maybe now he can prove to them it isn’t a fruitless endeavor not worth pursuing.

He puts the headphones over his head, one half of his mind occupied with a million thoughts and the other half excited to see what will come after the special. Dokyeom counts him in, mouth in a thin line from focus.

“Welcome to Chwe’s Power Hour, everyone. I’m Chwe Hansol, the man himself behind this lovely hour of music, and I thank you all for tuning into this special episode of the show.”

They go on as usual, answering user-created questions from the last stream and also playing a couple of requested songs. When they make it to the ten-minute mark, Vernon sees Dokyeom’s cue.

“So, recently, I met someone who has quickly become a very important part of my life. So, today, I want to share something that was on my mind with all of you.”

Vernon nods his head to Dokyeom who begins playing the backing track for Vernon’s song. Some guitar strings and a welcoming beat begin to play. The confidence suddenly rises out of Vernon, taking on its own life as he begins the song. The words come out of him effortlessly, the poetry he wrote for you synchronized with the music in a way that has even Dokyeom swaying in his seat cheerfully.

Flower child,

Why can’t I keep my thoughts off of ya?

You grow in my chest without my consent.

Please help when my heart’s under arrest.

Flower child,

I always recognize your steps

When you walk around my head.

The path you have to be familiar with.

Don’t tell me your interest’s a myth.

Flower child,

Is this garden ready to bloom?

You drive me wild.

Can I grow with you?

Flower child,

Can I show you?

You’ve left me beguiled,

Flower child.

The guitar and beat of the song fade out gradually. Dokyeom can’t help himself when he claps his hands together and cheers for his best friend, the sounds coming through in the stream. Vernon laughs and clears his throat.

“As you can hear, my co-host DK seems to have enjoyed my song.”

“Are you kidding?” Dokyeom says, mouth agape. “Best thing we’ve played on this show, no doubt.”

Vernon chuckles heartily, his chest filled with pride. Not just for himself, but for this creation he’s found enough conviction to share with the world. 

“Thank you again for all tuning into this episode of Chwe’s Power Hour, sponsored by Hogwarts Altior. I cannot wait for the next episode and your thoughts on this one. It was without a doubt my favorite special so far. To all of you listening, have a good day and night.”

When the stream comes to a close, Dokyeom grabs Vernon in a tight bear hug, screeching in glee for the younger one’s success. “That was fucking incredible!”

Before Vernon can reply, he feels the buzz of his phone in his back pocket, your name lighting up his screen.

Meet me in the greenhouse? x

Vernon walks through the greenhouse. The foliage and flora he’s encountered many times in the past since meeting you and beginning your love affair greet him. He hopes the flowers he picked up on the quick run from the radio office to the courtyard capture your heart in the same way the plants in the greenhouse do.

Even if they make his eyes itchy around the eyelashes, he will deal with it. No amount of pollen could ruin this day.

You’re working on some homework at the gardening bench when he comes in. You drop your pencil immediately when you spot him out of the corner of your eye. You smile at the bouquet in his hands. “Usually I’m the one bringing you plants.”

Vernon grins as well. “Thought I’d return the favor this time.”

You leave your stool and walk towards him. Pecking his lips, you grab the flowers from him. “You know zinnias have pollen in them.”

He shrugs, taking no stock in the stuffy feeling in his nose. “You’re worth all the allergies in the world.”

Your cheeks turn a deep shade of red. Pressing your nose into the flowers, you take in the smell with a satisfied hum. “They’re beautiful.”

“They represent long-lasting affection, according to Joshua. But he might’ve been stoned when he said that.” Vernon smirks, grabbing onto your free hand.

You giggle. Staring deep into his eyes, your expression suddenly becoming serious. “Speaking of that, I listened to your show.”

Taking a deep breath, Vernon hopes he can find the same courage he had in the studio then now to use exclusively for you. “Since the second I saw you, I was drawn to you. And all the feelings I’ve had since then I put into that song to express just a fraction of how amazing you are. And I know it’s cheesy, but I meant every word, and I hope you feel the same.”

You step away from him, letting go of his hand and walking back to the gardening workbench. Vernon’s anxiety spikes, unsure what your next step will be. Would you say what he wanted to hear, or would you tell him something that would break his heart altogether?

You drop the bouquet on the table and run back to him, knocking all the air out of Vernon’s lungs with a sudden, soul-encapsulating kiss.

In the pressure, movement, and heartfelt nature of your lips against his, he feels idiotic second-guessing you for even a minute. 

You both separate, lips still inches away and smiles abound. Despite your actions saying everything he needed to hear, the words leaving your mouth just confirms every emotion in his heart. “I love you, too.”

[princessbrunette]

thinking about bunny being in a slightly difficult mood, grumpy, huffing and stomping her foot around tannyhill. rafe’s trying to let her have her temper tantrum since they’re a rare occurrence. but after a few hours of her sour mood not letting up, he manhandles her rove this lap to put in her bunny plug and finger her till she cries and he’s cooing at her about how “only dad can fix that little attitude huh, bun?”

oh my god??????

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

he can handle the grumpiness, stomping around in little heels and huffing at minor inconveniences. sour moods never last too long with you, so having to deal with you isn’t exactly something that concerns him. however, he is a little surprised to learn that after a few hours — you’re carrying that same amount of aggression, manicured nails digging into your palm as you storm around with clenched fists, shrugging carelessly to whatever rafe asks you and bottom lip permanently jutted into a pout.

the final straw is when you go to pull your shirt from your dresser where it was folded, tugging a little too hard and hearing a tear. usually, this wouldn’t bother you. you knew deep down that it was no biggie to get something like that fixed, and rafe would never let you walk around with holes in your clothes — but the simple act of it happening sent you over the edge, screaming at the top of your lungs and repeatedly beating the shirt on the dresser, kicking your kitten-heeled feet against the wood of it until the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend had arrived behind you.

“the fuck is —” he cuts himself off, seeing the scene before him, taking in the dramatics before instantly doing what he knew should have done hours ago. in seemingly one quick movement, rafe yanks you by the arm out the way while opening the drawer and pulling out the clean bunny buttplug just waiting for usage. “alright, alright — alright!” he yells over your fussing until it was just broken whines and cries, the boy forcing you over his lap on the bed.

“its broken—” you go to yell once more as rafe yanks up your skirt, but he cuts you off quickly — asserting his dominance in hopes you’ll simply relax.

“lower your voice kid, won’t ask you again.” he commands sternly, and luckily you don’t bother again, sucking in short breaths and sniffling into the bedsheets as he works your panties off completely, knowing you won’t be needing them anymore.

you groan when rafe slots his hand beneath your throat and lifts your head with his grip, bending as much as he can to crane over you and hold the plug to your mouth. “c’mon. get it wet. don’t waste my time.” he taps your bottom lip and you sniffle, drooling until not only the metal was coated but his fingers were too from the run off. “shit, crazy girl.” he tsks as he leans back, touching the tip of it to your puckered hole. “you’re gonna calm the hell down. alright? once this is in you’re gonna chill out. i know you need me to fix that little attitude, okay i know. but you gotta use your words and not freak out on me. daddy can’t help you otherwise. yeah?” he talks to you as he pushes it in, feeling relief in the way your body melts on his lap, still sucking in harsh breaths but slower.

“yeah.” you repeat, knowing you had to say something but your brain was in melting mode, not capable of thinking of much else.

“alright. good. now, look at me — m’gonna ask you something n’i want an answer.” he demands, slowly helping your trembling body to stand between his legs. you clutch his white shirt in your fists, grounding yourself as your tearful eyes flicker over his face. you make a noise of acknowledgment so that he can continue. “what do you want? i— i can’t fix it for you baby ‘cos i don’t know what it is.” he flings out an arm, gesturing the shirt you left strewn on the floor. “is it that? do you want me to look at that? do you need a nap? food?” he shakes his head in exasperation, wide eyes searching yours with parted lips like he was really trying to figure you out.

you sniffle, shuffling on your feet as you stand inbetween his legs, his arm around your lower back keeping you leaning on him — and you’re not saying anything. he blinks, before speaking once more. “its dick. you want dick, huh?”

you didn’t know you did. truthfully, you’d been in a god awful mood all day, feeling like everything was going wrong — and in that moment things became just a little clearer as to why that might be. rafe hadn’t fucked you all week, you’d been out and about doing your own things — which is normal and okay in every relationship — just not in yours. you needed rafe to remind you who’s boss, because you didn’t wanna have to think anymore.

“please.” you nod, fiddling with his shirt button and the hand around your back slides down to beneath your skirt, tugging at the tail before massaging his fingers over your empty hole, feeling the way it gets sticky around him.

“hm. i should’a known.” he drawls, eyeing over you before plucking at your clothes. “gotta take this off, yeah? lemme see you.”

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

[bouncybongfairy]

Could you do a live action Zuko x reader, they were betrothed to eachother before his banishment. They frequently had visits and got along really well. First time they met he saw her creating a blue butterfly from her fire bending. The reader can produce blue flames but is a gentle, kind person. Zuko is reading the latest letter she has sent him, praying for his safety and health. How does he feel about them after all this time? Maybe this fuel his fire to complete his quest and get home.

See You Soon

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader

Summary: Both Zuko and can't stop thinking about each other, after reading the most recent letters you sent to each other.

Word Count: 2.0k

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It’s been some time since the last time you’d seen Zuko face to face. Ever since his banishment, so about three years. You’d think those wounds would have healed, a betrothal that was nothing more than a concept faded in time. Anyone who’d know you would say you were well past it, those people obviously weren’t paying close enough attention. Sending each other letters, drawings and pressed flowers. Detailing everything unfolding in his quest to find the Avatar. Her day to day life with school and helping your mom with all the tailoring for the Fire Lord’s family. A very important part in your life considering your family had been tailoring in the palace for generations. Every once in a while you’d send him an embroidered Lion to represent power and leadership, hiding his name tiny within the mane. Although you found comfort in the words of reassurance he gave through ink and paper, it only made you long for something more. Reminiscing on all the precious memories that now feel like they were taken for granted.  

The two of you met by chance, your mother worked in the palace. She made all the clothes for the royal family. Often having you assist, holding her pin cushion or any other request she may have. At first not paying each other much attention, one day Azula came in, berating both your mother and self like she did to all other staff. Hearing horror stories from others in the palace made you terrified of her. The last thing you wanted was to get your family banished for looking at her wrong. Zuko noticed this, and nudged your arm; looking over at her and then rolling his eyes. Giving you a reassuring smile, Azula then nudged your shoulder with hers as she walked out. 

“That girl may be a princess by blood line but not respect from her people. She rules with fear when it should be grace,” you mother grumbled as you walked into the house. 

“That may be true but it must be hard, growing up competing for the throne. Having your entire life mapped out for you even before you’re born. That must be so hard on someone so young, I think I'd break,” pulling your hair out of the tight bun. Your mother smiled, setting the bags on the table. Cupping your face in her hands,

“I love that in a nation so pitiless and jaded that you have kept your soft spirit. You know that, but that girl spoiled down to the soul,” your mother laughs before turning back to her bags.

You laugh and walk into your bedroom to change before heading back outside. The weather was perfect to practice your fire bending. One of the perks of having a mother who worked in the palace was better education for you. Now that you had been learning to bend from a master, you were able to do more than you could ever imagine. At school all you learned was combat or defensive bending. At home, you liked practicing making different shapes. At the beginning it was simple stuff like circles or hearts, with time they were getting more intricate. Being able to make things like flowers, birds and even butterflies. You were in the empty field behind your family's home, working on your bending. You’d finally learned to make the butterfly flap its wings and fly around for a couple moments at a time before dissipating. Taking a deep breath and creating the flames, putting all your focus into manipulating its form. Holding your breath nervously as you watch it fly around you. The blue light glowing off the flame lit Zuko's face up, where he was watching from a couple feet away. You gasped out of surprise and backed away. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to- when Azula nudged you, this fell off your top. I just wanted to return it,” he said, holding out the embroidered patch of a crabapple tree that was pinned to your top. 

“Oh, thank you. Wow I'm really surprised you took the time to return it, as someone with so much responsibility; it’s an honor,” you say, giving him a quick bow out of respect. 

“I’ve only seen masters create such detailed shapes with blue flame, can I help?” he asks, you nod in agreement as he comes closer. He stands behind you, pressing his chest against your back. Nudging your arms up with his hands telling you to create the flame before continuing, 

“Holding your breath limits the amount of time your fire can stay in the air. Like suffocating a candle with its lid. Fire can’t be without oxygen, can you feel my breathing against your back? Match it to yours then try to make the butterfly,” he said. 

You were so nervous but took a deep breath in before matching the rise and fall of his chest. Immediately you could feel the difference, like you had more control over the flames. Being able to make the wing movements sharp and clean. Making the flame circle around the two of you, forcing your bodies closer together. 

“See, isn't that so much better?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I never thought I could have so much control over my bending,” you said, moving to face him. 

“I have to get back but i’ll see you around?” he asked, as he took off in a rush which made you chuckle. 

After that night, it was like fate just couldn’t keep the two of you apart. He was getting fitted more often for leather armor and things like that. Noticing each other in lessons and sneaking glances. This progressed until eventually Zuko became unbothered with who saw the two of you interacting. One day he slipped a note into your bag, wanting to meet later that night. Your heart skipped a beat of course, and for the rest of the day it was all you could think about. The day seemed so much longer now that you had something to look forward to. Practically skipping home from lessons, even though you still had a couple hours before dark. You were happy to be home daydreaming. Your mom was home, cooking komodo chicken. Giving her a kiss on the cheek before heading off to your bedroom. Originally you were going to wear what you always did but part of you felt like the night was too special for your everyday attire. Normally keeping your hair up in a tight bun, you decide to let it down. It took you a while to convince yourself to leave it down but eventually you did.

Everyone was finally asleep, the house dark and quiet. You sneak out the window of your bedroom. Zuko was waiting for you right outside which made you gasp, not seeing it was him at first. He had a big smile on his face, which was refreshing considering he’s been going through alot lately. On a night with such amazing weather, the main city and markets were busy with life. Zuko and you however prefer the peacefulness of looking over the city from the peak of a hill not too far. Zuko was pointing out different constellations in the sky to you. Or showing him new little tricks you were learning with your bending. He always acted really impressed but you knew he was doing it for your benefit. You loved that about him, that he cared so much about your confidence. 

“You know, my father says it’s time to start looking for a girl to betroth,” he says. 

“Oh? Any girls you had in mind?” you ask playfully. 

“No,” he says back in the same playful tone, which makes you elbow him in his ribs. 

“In all seriousness though, how do you feel about that?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

“I think I'm waiting for you to ask me properly,” you said chuckling. 

Zuko also felt like he took all these moments for granted. He was currently in his room on the ship. Looking around at all the notes and drawings he’d pinned to the walls. They’d just left where he and his crew were docked, following a lead on the Avatar. Reading the most recent letter you’d sent him, it pained him to know you were feeling the same grief he was about feeling apart. He never really talked about it to his uncle or anyone but it was one of the main reasons he was so motivated to complete his quest. He felt like he was missing out on the most important years of his life. Uncle Iroh always talks about how memorable his late youth was, before he had real responsibilities as general. He missed everything about you. Especially how sweet you were, always finding the good in people. Even finding beauty and grace in Azula; his own mother couldn’t find that in her. 

Often when Zuko was anxious he would think about you comforting him. He knew he could be hot headed both emotionally and physically. This never phased you, even when he was in full blown flames. Always finding a way to calm you down. Somehow reassuring him without making him feel small or stupid. You always used to tell him that anger is a form of passion. That you loved the passion and resilience he had, and that one day he’d be able to channel it without anger. He found so much comfort in you so being ripped away was hard but reading your letters helped. Made him feel like everything wasn’t as impossible as it may seem. Like once he returns home he’ll know you’ll be there to support him. 

He laid back on his bed, your letter on his chest. Worried that you’d grow tired feeling his love through paper and ink. That you’d yearn for love that’s more present in your everyday life. This fear was doubled by the fact that he assumed telling you about this fear would make him come across as insecure. Maybe he was but he didn’t want you to know that. He hated being seen as weak, you were too kind to admit but he knows that exactly what you’d think. Currently thinking about one of the last nights you had together. In Zuko’s old room, laying on the bed together. You were playing with his hair and he had his arms wrapped around your waist. Both of you were pretty tired from training and school. Just melting into each other, enjoying the comfort you gave him. There wasn’t any talking but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. You’d kiss him on his forehead every once in a while, finger combing his hair. Taking in your smell and leaning into your touch. He never felt so vulnerable in a comforting way with someone. 

Iroh came into the room, making Zuko jump up. Clutching onto his letter, immediately his uncle sensed something was off. His eyes were dark and puffy, not to mention quite red. The bruise on his face appeared to be swelling and it was obvious that he was beyond his limit. Iroh set down the wooden tray he carried in, handing him a cup. 

“I know you don’t want to hear this but mentally you are being strained. Bending and combat is easy for you because you’ve done it your whole life. Emotionally, some of your muscles are weak but I can see your slowly strengthening them. It’s important that you get lots of rest while you-” he went to look over at Zuko and stopped talking once he realized the boy was asleep. Iroh held back a laugh before taking the cup and letter out of his hands. Zuko gripped the paper and woke up but settled down once he realized it was him. 

“Rest now, and please truly let yourself rest,” he said, pulling the blanket over him and he laid down. Folding the letter gently and leaving it on the nightstand.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Satoru Gojo trying to make a bun with his daughter's kinky hair

Pairing: husband!Gojo x black!reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: It always looked so easy to him, the way you put your thick hair into the most breathtaking hairstyles. But when his daughter asked him to do a sleek bun on her, he was confronted with the stinging fact how difficult styling kinky hair can be. But that doesn't stop the dad of the year from learning...

Warnings: This is the first time ever I'm writing a black reader and I'm beyond excited 😭 I'm hoping with all my heart that you guys like what I came up with! I'm not a poc myself so if this offends you, don't read this work. Also, I'm writing from the point of view of my own research and the tellings of my beloved moot @almostshinymiracle. As usual, there's many ways to do your hair and this specific one might not be yours 🤍

Comments, likes and reblogs are so appreciated, I'd be more than thankful for you guys telling me what you think - THANK YOU 🤍

Your eyes widen when the loud shriek of your daughter echoes through your house. What’s wrong? Did she hurt herself while playing? As fast as your feet carry you, you run down the hallway and open the door to her room.

But no, your daughter didn’t fall, she didn’t hurt herself. She sits in front of her dad who holds a brush in his hand.

“Hey honey, is everything alright over here?”, you question softly while kneeling down next to both of them.

“I’m so sorry. She said she wants a bun like the one you wear so often and I thought it can’t be that hard. But the brush doesn’t even get through her hair…”, your husband explains, bright blue eyes fixated on his daughter’s hair.

“It’s not that simple with kinky hair, babe. Look, the bristles of your brush are way too tight to get through her hair. That’s why I’m having a special one.”

Oh, how absolutely adorable he looks with his face visibly in guilt, still holding onto the brush that seems to be his while visibly pondering about your soft explanation. Making your daughter’s hair as a dad without experience has to be difficult already, but a girl with black roots and a hair structure completely unknown to him? You chuckle to yourself, remember the countless times he observed you doing your hair already.

“This seems so damn exhausting, babe. Can’t you just…brush it?”

“If I just brush it, I’ll look like a mop. That’s the price I have to pay for having kinky hair I guess.”

“But you look like a princess. My princess”, he purred into your ear while his long fingers tried to brush through your thick hair.

“She just asked me and as her dad…I just wanted to help, y’know”, he mumbles with a pout.

“And I’m so proud of you for trying, Satoru. It’s just an art itself and if you didn’t grow up with it, it’s quite difficult. Sometimes not even hairstylists are able to tame my and her hair from time to time. No worries, I’ll do her hair and I’ll show you how it’s done when there’s enough time, okay?”

You can’t help but give him a kiss on his cheek, letting yourself fall into his arms.

“Mommy, can you do my hair?”, your daughter interrupts your way too short cuddle session.

“Of course, angel. We’ll be ready in 10 minutes, Satoru. Don’t worry about it-“

“My name is baby”, he corrects you before leaving the room, his shoulders almost hanging to the floor.

This doesn’t sit right with you. It shouldn’t hurt him like this that he wasn’t able to do his daughter’s hair when it’s absolute not comparable to his very own. Mindlessly, you run your fingers through her thick mane that is so similar to yours, so familiar that you’d be able to make a sleek bun with eyes closed. You’ll definitely show him how to take care of his daughter’s hair when there’s more time than today.

“Is daddy sad?”, your daughter asks innocently while you apply gel.

“He was so excited to do your hair, honey. But with kinky hair like ours, this can be really difficult, you know?”

“It hurt…”, she admits shyly.

“Did it hurt as much as doing braids?”

Your little daughter chuckles while you tickle her playfully on her neck.

-the next day-

The heartfelt laughter of your daughter makes your eyes flutter open. What time is it? Given the fact that the sun already rose, it has to be late in the morning. Your naked feet meet the cold wooden floor, carry you to her room on their own. Satoru’s side of the bed was already cold when you woke up. Did he have to leave for a mission? Or is he the reason why his precious little daughter laughs?

“Okay, let me remove the scarf from your cute little head. Is this how mommy does your hair?”

You stop in your tracks, already grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. A scarf wrapped around her daughter’s head? You know exactly what that means.

“That tickles!”, your daughter shrieks.

“Shhh, don’t you wake up Mommy before I’m done here, okay? I want this to be a surprise.”, Satoru whispers exaggeratedly mute.

It takes all your strength to not break out in laughter, to stay hidden behind the slightly open door.  

“Okay, now let me wrap this around it…and…Fast, I need a bobby pin, honey!”

Your heart almost overflows with warmth. When did he learn how to do his daughter’s hair, what steps it takes to create a sleek bun with kinky hair? It’s hard to keep you from entering the room, to keep your composure. The urge to see what he’s doing becomes almost unbearable-

“Did you hear that daddy?”

“Yeah, that sounded almost as if someone behind that door stalks us!”

With a swift motion, your husband exposes you to his bright blue orbs. Your heart skips a beat. Is he mad, disappointed? The look on his face is rather amused, calms down your tingling nerves.

Until you look at your daughter.

Your precious little daughter with a perfect sleek bun.

“Oh my”, you breathe out.

Instantly, you kneel down in front of her, eyeing her from every angle. He really managed to put all her unruly hair in one of your afro puff hair ties, the whole package covering the floor along with multiple tubes of different gels and countless diverse brushes. It looks like an absolute mess around her room, different brands and tools clustered around. But you only have eyes for your daughter and beloved husband.

“This looks absolutely stunning!”

“Do you…really think so?”, Satoru mutters while scratching the back of his head.

Is the strongest jujutsu sorcerers of your time really…blushing? Immediately you grab his hand covered in dried gel and press a passionate kiss against his cheek.

“She looks like a model, I couldn’t have done it better! How did you do this? Only yesterday, you didn’t know what to do!”

“I did some research…”

“The whole night?”

“The whole night.”

“This looks fantastic!”, your daughter cries out when seeing herself in the mirror, twisting and turning herself in order to soak in her gorgeous bun.

“You always make it look so easy. Sometimes I forget how much skill this requires”, he mumbles against your ear, dragging your body onto his lap.

“I hope you’ll remind this when you ruin my hair next time”, you playfully reply.

“Want me to ruin your hair right now?”

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part seventeen

authors note: hi! this one isn't as long as some of the most recent, but it is fluffy! well, for the most part. next one will probably be a lil longer and def not as fluffy.....

also, ya'll fake asf for not telling me i put 'simone' as reader sister's name when it's 'bianca' at the end of the last update. i may or may not watch crime docs sometimes while writing......

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @msbigredmachine @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns

You don’t typically get nervous.

It’s just not a trademark of your personality, but for this….for this, there’s definitely a fair amount of trepidation. For one, outside of the fact that most of your favorite outfits suddenly seem too unflattering or fit a bit too snug. For two, you can’t seem to get your hair to cooperate with the same updo you’ve done since you were in your teens.

Not to mention the fact that you were so in your head about this damn lunch during your shower that you weren’t paying close enough attention as you were shaving down there and nicked yourself. On a fucking lip of all things. So now you walk with a bit of limp because that fucking cut keeps brushing, burning, against your underwear.

Truthfully, all of this just feels like a sign that you shouldn’t be doing this. That you should text Bianca some excuse as to why you can’t make it to lunch.

But, it’s the image of Callie’s sweet, smiling face and ardent excitement as you told her Bianca was coming in town and bringing Taylor that you realize you can’t do that to her. She’s so excited about seeing and playing with Taylor again that it feels almost cruel to take that away from her.

So pushing aside your injured pussy lip, crooked bun, and unflattering outfit, you do what needs to be done for the sake of your daughter.

And yourself, really. 

Of course, you got Callie ready before yourself, as she’s much much easier. So, it’s nothing to grab her once you’re done overthinking to head out and go. But not before snapping a selfie of the two of you and sending it to your close friends story and Joe. Cause God forbid this man learns what Stories are and how they work. 

You may not be thrilled with your appearance, but Callie is just too cute to not photograph.

You two arrive at the restaurant before Bianca and Taylor, which you’re mostly grateful for. It allows you to work through the remnants of your anxiety and catch up on a few texts. The first thing you have to reply to though is Joe who texts you in response to your snap.

Joe: Why does it go away so fast?

Joe: Just text me the photo.

His messages make you laugh aloud, forcing you to smack your hand over your mouth not to draw attention to yourself. Joe’s paltry skills with social media, or just Snapchat, really is both comical and sad as hell.

You shake your head, typing out your reply. 

You: babe, how many times do i have to tell you? just screenshot! 

Joe: That’s too much work.

Laughing again, you see Callie briefly look your way before she focuses her attention back onto her tablet. She’s been using it a bit more often than you’d like, but considering everything ya’ll have been through the past couple weeks, it’s hard to put limits there.

It is something to be mindful of though.

Hell, maybe she can help her dad learn a thing or two about how to work technology. 

You: i’m signing you up for some type of tech class or shit for your birthday, cause this is ridiculous. 🥴

Joe: Lol.

A thought then crosses your mind as you shoot him another text.

You: what do you want for your birthday, btw?

You: and remember, only one of us is rich. 🙃

Back when you and Joe were dating, the most he’d get from you is a birthday text or maybe some baked goods if he happened to be visiting near the time of his birthday. But, this is obviously very different. You’re now in a committed relationship, about to move in together to raise your daughter.

And with all Joe has done for you these past months, both financially and emotionally, it would be almost criminal to not get him something.

Of course, you also know that your man is just about as stubborn as you are, hence your expectation that he’ll simply say nothing or find some bullshit reason why you shouldn’t or don’t need to.

If only you actually planned to listen to him. 

And it’s also only March, giving you like two months to wear him down into just accepting your gratitude. 

Joe: Just say yes when I ask.

Reading his message makes you frown, your nose turned up in confusion. What is he talking about?

Joe: That’s all I need. All I want.

He’s successful in providing a nice distraction, sure, but this man is also confounding the fuck out of you. He’s always on some elusive, coy bullshit. 

You: what? what kind of man code speak shit is that? yes? yes to what? anal? 

You: we been over that shit. you’re too big. i’m down for anything but that.

Then again, Joe does have an uncanny ability to make anything feel good. And comparing a sexual experience with Amir to Joe is literally fucking apples and oranges. Much like his wrestling persona, Joe is on some ‘god mode’ type shit when it comes to sex.

Joe: Shut up. You’re gonna make me hard in this fuckin meeting thinking bout that pussy….

Naturally, you angle your body away from Callie a bit to ensure she has absolutely no way to see your phone, to see that message that has you pressing your thighs together. It’s definitely been too long since you’ve had him inside you, and him being nasty right now isn’t helping that. 

You: stop being nasty, please. callie is literally sitting next to me, and i don’t feel like soaking my panties.

You don't need your daughter knowing her parents are freaks.

You: i’ll see about when’s the next time we can come visit though 👀

Joe is hella deep in WrestleMania season, so it’s virtually impossible for him to get away, hence you needing to be the one to take her to go see him. Granted, you’re also busy as hell, trying to wrap up things at home, gradually transitioning to the house in Florida.

The house that you and Joe now officially own, because true to his word, as always, your name is on everything. You attended the signing with him which made it official. It’s also when you got to see just how much Joe spent on said house, the number nearly making you pass out in your seat.

Even more, to speed up the process and ensure you could move in much sooner than what’s typical when buying a house, he paid over the asking price. 

Cash.

It’s most definitely not possible to love this man more than you already do.

He follows up with another text shortly after, respectfully changing the subject in a way that makes you smile warmly. 

Joe: Don’t be nervous. 

It’s a bit unreal how good he is at reading you, even through texts.

You: lmao how’d ya know?

Joe: Cause I know you. 

Joe: You two already connected before you even realized who she was. Lean into that. Try to take your father out of the equation. This is about you and her. Not him.

Reading over Joe’s message once, twice, three times really does something to help your anxiety. He’s right. If you had never even known who Bianca really is, you guys would probably be even closer now, chatting it up frequently. There’s so much more potential there than there is danger.

You: thank you….i love you ❤️

Joe: Love you too, baby. Text me when ya’ll finish. 

Switching threads, you send out a few more texts and work out a date and time with Kaylah for her to accompany you and Alexis furniture shopping when Callie’s sweet, excited voice pulls you from your phone.

“Taylor!” Callie swiftly pushes her tablet to the side and climbs off the bench you two were waiting on when she sees Taylor’s smiling face.

“Callie!” 

It’s with an absolutely full heart you watch the two run to meet each other for a big hug, embracing like they’ve known each other for years.

Like they’re family.

“Hey….”

Your attention switches to Bianca who’s standing just a few feet away from you, clearly torn on whether to offer her hand, initiate a hug, or what.

Remembering Joe’s words of wisdom, you take a deep breath and hug her. “Hi, Bianca.”

You can literally feel the anxiety melt off of the both of you as you pull back and see she has unshed tears in her eyes. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

You’re able to offer a smile, a genuine one too, especially as you glance over at the girls who are now sitting on the bench, looking and talking over Callie’s tablet. “I think it’s worth it just for that alone.”

Bianca looks and laughs. “She’s been asking about Callie.”

That dims your smile a bit, a strange sort of sadness. “Callie has been asking about her too.” You feel bad depriving the girls of seeing each other, scheduling out this meeting so far in advance, but it wasn’t entirely of your choosing.

The past three weeks since you found out Joe literally bought a house for three of ya’ll has been filled with nothing but preparing for the move. Working as much as you can, trying to transition your students as best as possible. Trying to figure out who to hire to move you all, flights back and forth from your town to Florida as you work on things for the house like getting the lights and water turned on and in your and Joe’s name.

Just a lot of shit.

So while you weren’t itching to pencil this in ASAP, you also would have been okay if it happened a bit sooner and closer to when you finally responded to Bianca’s text.

The four of you are escorted and seated in the restaurant, you and Bianca having Callie and Taylor sit in the booth across from you. 

This isn’t a conversation they need to overhear, not that they’d want to. They’re in their own little world.

After ordering and making small talk over your meals, Bianca is the one to make the first move. “I guess it’d be remiss of me to not start off with the big elephant in the room.”

There’s an unfamiliar sense of anxiety that starts to stir in your stomach, but you push it away, joking, “just one? I think we have a couple.”

She laughs and then starts off with, “I remember that day, you know.” Your confusion must show because she adds with an almost gentleness. “That day in the police station.”

And the anxiety is back, your eyes dropping to the plate of food as you try your best to keep your shit together. “Oh…that.”

“This probably sounds crazy, but….there was something about you that seemed familiar almost. But when I asked dad who you were….well…..”

“What did he say?” A part of you wants to know, but a large part of you doesn’t. So whether she answers or not, both are okay with you. 

There’s clear hesitation but she still answers, nonetheless. “He just said you were a troubled teen.”

You scoff, shaking your head. Typical. That man is bottom of the barrel trash, and if not for Bianca probably thinking decently of him, you’d say as such. “Of course he did.” 

“When I first asked him about you, he lied. He said he had no idea who you were, but I refused to let it go because…..because I could see the hurt in your eyes that night. I knew there was a story there, and I wasn’t going to give up until he came clean. And when he did…..” She shakes her head, tapping her fork against her plate. “We haven’t spoken since.”

That surprises you. You’d take a guess that Bianca and that man were close, or at least semi-close, so the fact that they haven’t spoken…..you feel bad. Not for him. Fuck him. But for her. “Bianca, regardless of what happened between me and….him…that shouldn’t get in the way—”

“I always wanted a sister, Y/N,” she interrupts, and you can hear the emotion arriving in her voice. “I begged my parents for years when I was a kid for them to give me a sister. And he knew. They both knew about you. They knew about you, and they kept us away from each other. He kept us away from each other.” She angrily wipes at her eyes. “I–I don’t know how to forgive that.”

Her emotions and feelings are valid. You feel the same way just for slightly different reasons, though forgiveness isn’t even something you’ve thought about. There is no forgiving that man for what he did.

But, just because that’s your story doesn’t mean it has to be Bianca’s.

“You need time to sort through it all,” is the best guidance you can give her. Anything more would be the emotionally blind leading the emotionally blind. “The same way I needed time before reaching out to you.”

She nods, sitting on your words. “And I really do appreciate you giving this a chance, Y/N.”

You’re starting to as well, but before things can move forward, you feel the need to set some ground rules. “I’m open to this….to getting to know you more, to letting the girls continue to know each other more, but…..I have a stipulation.”

Bianca swallows. “I’m listening.”

“Anything I share with you regarding myself and my family, I need it to stay between you and me. Your husband is fine, but your parents and brother…..I don’t want them knowing anything about me and especially my daughter.” Fingers nervously tapping against the table, you disclose, “I just had a really messed up situation happen that I’m still trying to fully process, so I’m even more protective of Callie and myself at this point in my life. And I like you, Bianca, but this isn’t something I can compromise on.”

“And you shouldn’t.” Her initial response surprises you a bit. A part of you was worried she’d try to convince you that you should at least be open to the possibility of getting to know the rest of the family. But given she’s not even speaking to her parents right now, your stipulation must not be a hard sell. “I completely understand, and I’ll respect your wishes. It’s probably better this way, actually.” 

Her agreeing and being respectful really means a lot to you, and you express as such. “Thank you, Bianca.”

Her smile is warm and welcoming as the both of you happen to glance over at the girls at the exact same time while they’re in the midst of a giggle fest. It makes you laugh as she asks, “so, you mentioned something about moving?”

“Yeah, umm, we’re moving to Florida with Callie’s dad.” For a brief second, you second guess telling her this information. Second guess how much you want to disclose. But, you decide that if Bianca is willing to meet you halfway, you need to do the same.

“Seriously?” you nod. “You know we live in Florida too, right?”

Yes and no. You remember Bianca telling you she lived further down South, but it isn’t until this very moment that you recall Bianca lives in Florida. You ask where and realize she’ll only be about 45 minutes out from your house.

Callie and Taylor are going to love this.

“So…..” She starts off, facial expression giving away that she has a question she’s burning to ask but is trying her best to keep to herself. “Callie’s dad…..”

Instantly, you’re laughing. It’s comical seeing her try so hard to be respectful. “You wanna know how we met.”

She releases a heavy sigh, planting both hands on the table. “Girl, you cannot just have Roman freaking Reigns fine ass be your man and daughter’s father and not expect me to ask.” Your laughter increases as she adds on, “respectfully, of course. I’m happily married. But, I still have eyes.”

Fair. Very fucking fair. “It’s….a bit of a complicated story.”

She darts her eyes over to the girls who seem like they’re still only in the first stages of play. “I think we have time.”

She’s not wrong.

Leaning a bit closer to her, extra mindful of your volume, you start of this wild yet epic love story. “So it all started at a Smackdown show….”

—------

“Alexis, why the hell is your mugshot your instagram profile pic?”

It’s a question you never thought would leave your mouth, nor something you thought you’d ever see. 

You still feel bad about that, about Alexis getting arrested for assaulting Mariah. Granted, it’s obvious Alexis doesn’t. Not one bit. She’s said as such to you, that she would do it all over again, arrest and all.

And it does help, slightly, that just as she predicted, the DA chose not to pursue the case on the grounds of lack of evidence. How much of that was Alexis being rich working in her favor vs there not being enough concrete evidence to sustain a case is beyond you. Regardless, you’re just happy she’s not in any major legal trouble because of you.

She looks over and flips her recent sew–in over her shoulder. “I look cute.”

She’s not entirely wrong, but Alexis looking amazing at any point and time isn’t a hard thing in general considering she’s naturally fucking gorgeous. “It’s a mugshot, Alexis.”

“And? Booking or not, I look cute.” You can see her observing some of the living room sets you two pass while making your way back to Kaylah and Callie from your bathroom break. Your bladder has been freaking irritating, with you needing to pee more than usual. And of course, Alexis couldn’t turn down an opportunity to snap bathroom selfies. “What about this?” 

Sliding your phone back in your purse, you see it’s a bedroom set, immediately reminding, “I’m waiting for Joe, Lex.”

“Girl, isn’t WrestleMania in like three weeks? You can’t wait that long to get a damn bed.” Before you can protest, she lifts an acrylic stiletto nail to silence you. “How you gonna be sleeping in a million dollar house on a damn air mattress, Y/N? You suck at this rich bitch shit.”

“I’ll be fine. We just need to get Callie something today. That’s the priority.” And it’s the truth. Callie having at least the essentials in her room is why you’re perusing this fancy ass furniture store in the first place. “As long as my baby is good, I’m good.”

“Whatever, but do you at least like it?” Her question is valid, so you observe the bedroom set. It’s a seven piece, dark wood, silver accents. “It is nice. Looks like something for a man too.”

That’s the thing though. You feel a bit wrong buying a bedroom set that’s for two people when only one is present. Joe made it clear he’s cool with whatever you get, but considering he’s paying for it, he should have a say.

Alexis then points out. “It even includes a full body mirror that way ya’ll can watch yourselves fucking.”

“Alexis!”

“What?” She smacks her teeth, hand on her hip. “Is it a lie?”

Your mouth opens and immediately snaps shut. She’s right. It’s not a lie. Joe loves making you watch him fuck you, finger you, eat you out. You name it. And it’s not like you object either….

But, that doesn’t mean you need it pointed out in a damn furniture store.

“Let’s just get back to Callie,” you murmur, certain that your cheeks are tinged red. Thank black Jesus for melanin to hide embarrassment in moments like this. 

Callie spots you before you can even catch her attention. “Mommy!” She runs over, taking your hand as she guides you over to a display. “Look!” Immediately, you can understand why she wants you to see it. 

It literally looks like something out of HGTV magazine. White bedroom pieces adorned with pinks, purples, yellows. All of Callie’s favorite colors. The bed is actually a bunk bed that’s designed like a castle, the larger bed on the bottom and the spiral staircase leading up to the second bed a bit smaller.

It’s so excessive and so Callie.

Kaylah comes beside you with a knowing smirk. “I think she’s found the one.”

“Can I get it mommy, please!” Callie is peering up at you with those big brown eyes, holding onto your legs. “We can ask daddy!”

That last part makes you chuckle. You already know that man would have his card out by now, signing for the transaction. Whatever she wants, he makes it happen.

You do ask though, looking for a price tag or something. You know it’s gotta cost a pretty penny with how excessive and grandiose it is. “How much is it…..”

“Who cares?” Alexis suddenly sounds, walking over with an annoyed expression. “You know Joe is good for it. Time to pull out one of those fancy new cards he got for you.”

She’s referring to the new set of debit and credit cards in your wallet, all the result of Joe adding you on as an authorized user on all of his accounts. For some reason, you’ve hesitated to actually use any of them, regardless of the fact that all of the shopping you need to do is for the house you’re all living in together.

Kaylah gently bumps into your side. “You already know what he’d say.”

His deep voice is in your ear as if he’s standing beside you. My little girl gets what she wants.

“Girl, he’d be at the register by now.” You laugh, looking down and bopping Callie’s nose. “Daddy already said you can get whatever you want, Callie Bear” Wanting to be sure, you lean down, asking, “is this really the one you want?”

“Yes!” She cheers, jumping up and down and hugging you. “Mommy! I’m gonna be a princess!”

Rubbing her cheek, you lean over to kiss her forehead. She’s not entirely wrong. Especially when she sees the surprise Joe is working on for her new bedroom.

Feeling slightly ganged up on but also content with making a purchase that will make your little girl happy, you stand up, announcing, “then let’s get it for you, baby.” Callie continues to celebrate at the pending purchase of her new bedroom set as you grab your phone to check the time. The OB-GYN happened to have a cancellation today, which works perfectly cause the initial appointment they gave you wasn’t until the end of April. So, you snatched it up. “Come on, let’s go use one these fancy new cards.”

Alexis nods with such pride, giving a fist pump and high five to Callie after Kaylah does the same. “Let’s fuc—”

“Alexis!”

—---------

After purchasing and arranging an expedited delivery date for Callie’s new bedroom set, the three of you head back over to the new house. Kaylah leaves shortly after, needing to go pick Ellie up from school. 

But Alexis stays and keeps Callie company while you shower and get ready for your appointment. Callie asks if she can come with you, and you explain that you’ll come right back home after, which seems to somewhat settle her. But, you can tell she still doesn’t like the answer. 

It’s something you make a mental note to discuss with Joe. 

She’s been asking a lot of questions like ‘when are you coming back,’ and ‘can i come with you?’. 

You’ve noticed an increase in her separation anxiety since the whole DCFS nightmare. Not that you can blame her. You also have a small amount of anxiety any time you have to “leave” her, a brief irrational thought that they could take her away from you again.

Yeah….definitely something to discuss with Joe.

The doctor’s office is only about a 15 minute drive from the house, which is super nice and the office atmosphere is automatically welcoming. Right off the bat, you feel comfortable. Approaching the receptionist who offers a kind smile, you provide your first and last name, explaining you’re here for a new patient appointment.

She types on the computer, asking in a kind voice, “were you able to fill out the paperwork?”

“Uhhh, no, I’m sorry. We’re in the process of trying to move here, so I’ve been back and forth, and it just slipped my mind.” You’re probably offering more information than what’s necessary, but as someone who gets heavily annoyed when people don’t follow through on tasks, you can understand if there’s irritation on her part. “But, I came a little early to see if I can just fill it out now?”

“Of course, honey.” Her voice is honey sweet as she rolls in her chair, grabbing a clipboard that has paperwork attached. Handing it to you, she explains, “just answer as best you can and be sure to signature and initial when it asks for either. If you don’t finish by the time they call you back, don’t worry about it. You can finish it with the nurse.”

“Thank you so much.” As she hands you back your drivers license and insurance card, you place both back in your wallet and find an empty seat in the waiting area. Using the pen attached, you start to complete the paperwork, unsurprised by how thick the packet is. Specialty doctors typically have a lot of information they need. Unfortunately, some of it requires you to pull up your phone to log into your MyChart. This makes the process take even longer, so much so that you’re only about halfway done when an older black woman, probably around your mom’s age, calls you back.

Seeing so much melanin instantly puts you at so much ease. You can see why Kaylah highly recommended this practice. You haven’t even met the doctor yet, and you’re already sold. 

The nurse, Helen, as she introduced herself makes nice pleasantries with you as she takes your blood pressure before directing you to stand on the scale.

It’s one thing to suspect that you’ve gained weight but another to actually have it confirmed. And that’s exactly what the scale does.

It’s nothing major, but definitely something to monitor. You’ve never been super anal about your weight, but you also know you have to keep an eye on it, to some extent.

Helen takes the incomplete paperwork from you, kindly explaining that she can just take the information from you verbally as she types it into the system. You’re grateful because your hand is already cramping.

Her questions are mostly easy, some requiring you to use the MyChart as well as dig deep into your long-term memory to retrieve those long forgotten tidbits of information.

But, it’s one question in particular that changes everything. 

“And what was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

Naturally, you unlock your phone again to open Flo, but your finger is hovering over the pink icon when it slams into you. A whirlwind of little things that create a much bigger, life changing picture.

Nausea. Vomiting. Emotionality. Breast tenderness. Weight gain. Frequent urination.

No cycle.

“Oh my god…..” Your phone drops in your lap as you bring your hands to cover your mouth, eyes wide and focused on nothing in particular. “Oh…..” How you didn’t put the pieces together much sooner is a bit beyond you. A large chunk of it, you’d guess, was because you chalked it all up to the high stress you’ve been under the past few months. Many people would react the way you did, but this isn’t just that.

It’s more.

So much more.

Helen is suddenly crouched in front of you, hand on your knee. “Is everything alright, baby?”

Watery eyes snapping to her, you nod fervently, starting to wipe at the tears that have already started to spill. “Yes. I’m sorry. It’s just—” You get choked up, releasing a perfect mixture of a sob and laugh. “The last time I was in this position, I sat in my doctor’s office bawling my eyes out because I was so scared and nervous and just not in a good place mentally. But now…..” It’s hard for you to fully explain all of the wonderful emotions coursing through your body. “I’m doing the same thing but for entirely different reasons.” Your hand goes to your stomach as you look up and tell her with the happiest voice. “I’m pregnant.”

————

It’ll take a couple days for the results of your pregnancy test to come back, as explained by Dr. Young, whom you already love and trust to assist you through your pregnancy. 

But, you don’t need test results to confirm what you already know.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that you’re pregnant, and that thought alone is enough to bring you to tears. It’s why you’ve been sitting in your car for almost half an hour just crying. Tears of joy, of course.

The first and only thing you want to do is call Joe. You want to tell him with everything in you.

But…..

You can’t.

Not yet anyway.

He was deprived of so much with Callie, lost out on so many special moments. You can’t do the same with this pregnancy. You need to make this as special for him as possible, from the moment he finds out to the moment he holds this new baby for the first time.

It’s why you know that you can’t tell a soul. Not Alexis. Not your mom. Not even Callie. 

Joe was the last to find out before, but he’ll damn sure be the first to find out this time. 

It’s also why you make the somewhat difficult to keep Callie out of the loop too. A part of you thinks it could be sweet to have her help you break the news to him, but you also don’t want to deprive him of telling Callie with you.

So, you decide that this has to be a solo venture.

The first thing you need to figure out is the timeline. Figure out when you can go see Joe to tell him in person, because with WrestleMania right around the corner, there’s no way he’ll be back here before then. You and Dr. Young predict you’re about 10 weeks along, which means you’ll be hitting three months in less than a month. That works out good, because you were about four months pregnant with Callie before you started showing, so there’s some grace there.

Granted, it is a little odd that you’ve already gained the amount of weight you have given you’re not even three months along…..

The phone ringing pulls you from your thoughts. The ringtone tells you it’s Alexis before you even look at the phone. 

It takes a second for you to gather yourself, knowing her perceptive ass will pick up on something right away if you don’t. Three deep breaths help you to feel adequately prepared before you hit answer. “Hey girl. I’m on my—”

“I swear to God, Y/N, I’m literally going to kill that bitch! I don’t even fucking care anymore! I’m going to prison!”

You’re used to Alexis being dramatic and over the top, but there’s an unfamiliar level of alarm in her voice. “Lex, wait, slow down. What are you talking about?”

She pauses on the other end of the phone. “Fuck. You don’t know yet, do you?” She curses. "Damn, I figured you did by now, considering my phone has been going off with notifications from all the major news outlets the past hour."

Your throat suddenly feels dry. “Know what?” She doesn’t say anything, so you snap, “know what, Alexis!”

There’s a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone followed by her directing, “go to TMZ. Right now.”

Your panic instantly melts away. Alexis and her damn obsessiveness over pop culture. 

Sucking your teeth, you laugh and shake your head. “Girl, you are so dramatic. Had me thinking something happened.” Switching to speaker, you open up your browser and start to type. “This better not be about the housewives, cause…..” Your voice stops and stomach drops when the splash screen loads, allowing you to read the headline.

A headline that includes a picture of you and Callie. 

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: WWE SUPERSTAR ROMAN REIGNS LONG-TERM MISTRESS AND ALLEGED LOVE CHILD 

Click for pictures and videos! Read the scathing story and watch the exclusive tell all interview with mistress childhood friend!

[notjustjavierpena]

Reunion - Part II: Clamp

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This started out as a collection of a few requests. Then it became feely instead. Then a second chapter to Reunion. Read the first part here.

Summary: Homemade nipple clamps, toast for breakfast and a sudden confession. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dad’s best friend joel miller, daddy kink, innocence kink to some extent, homemade nipple clamps, nipple play, PIV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, possessive sex, reader has post-sex feelings, joel does too. 

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49869355/chapters/125892349

Clamp

Joel’s stomach growls loudly underneath you as you are cuddling in bed. He tries to deny it when you start fussing, but the way the noise repeats itself, traveling all the way up to your ear as you rest your head on his chest, makes him capitulate quickly. You get out from underneath the covers.

“Come on, I’m hungry but…” he says with a tinge of the stubbornness of a teenager as if eating is only an inconvenience and not a way of staying alive as well as healthy. He’d go hungry to touch you, and it’s almost sweet but you’d rather feed and hydrate him so he can go again sooner. 

You can feel it as he watches your ass when you move to the dresser in his room. There are a few pieces of clothing sticking out, and you yank at what you correctly assume is a t-shirt. Pulling it over your head, you are encapsulated in the smell of Joel’s fabric softener, a hint of his cologne too that doesn’t seem to want to come out completely. 

“I’m going to make some toast,” you say just as stubbornly, bending over to tie your hair up in a messy bun despite knowing you are not wearing any underwear. Joel groans behind you. 

“Ain’t playin’ fair,” he mutters bitterly, “Look at you. No panties and my shirt? Diabolical.”

You hear shuffling behind you but you actively ignore the footsteps coming up behind you. Instead, you secure a few stray hairs with the hairpins that you took out last night, trying to look busy when hands settle on your hips. 

“Turn around,” he tells you. You smile to yourself. 

With a few seconds delay, he adds a threatening ‘young lady’. You put on a pout and then face him, “Just wanna feed you, Daddy. Look at you. You’re already skin and bone.”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” he argues.

You shake your head, allow him to kiss you longingly for a little bit, “No, I like your tummy. You’re soft. Like you soft.” 

“Soft,” he repeats with a scoff, “I ain’t soft.”

And then, “And I always get what I want.”

Suddenly, his hands reach up to find the hairpins at the back of your head. He pulls one out, makes you furrow your brows as it tugs a little at the sensitive baby hairs there. 

“Ow, what are you doing?” You ask as he removes the second one. He holds them in his large palm, big enough to hide them completely from view. 

“Do you trust me?” He questions. He looks into your eyes expectantly, waiting for confirmation before he continues. You nod. He doesn’t go on.

“I mean yes,” you quickly add.

“Good girl,” he smiles at how well you are learning. Then he reaches for the bottom of his shirt that you are wearing, pinching the hem with his thumb and forefinger now that he has the pins in his palm. He yanks the shirt up until it rests above your breasts, “Hold this up f’me.”

You do as he says. The fabric skimming over your chest and the anticipation that is hanging in the air has made your nipples hard, standing in peaks and waiting for what is about to happen. You know exactly where this is going yet it still hits you when one of the pins clamp down on your sensitive nipple. 

You half-moan in beautiful pain, half-chuckle in surprise. It stings and pinches, but despite never having done this before, your body reacts a whole lot more by pulsing between your legs than by triggering your fight-or-flight response. 

Joel studies your face but you don’t give him any indication that you want to stop. He tugs a little on the pin to make sure it is secure and elicits a little sound from you. You’ve noticed his boxers are already starting to tent. 

“Next one,” he informs as if performing a mediocre task, his voice having dropped an octave. He sounds breathier, aroused. You don’t jump half as much when your other nipple is painfully pinched too, but the feeling of them burning together is so intense that slick has started to smear your inner thighs. 

“Now,” he yanks your shirt down, makes your arms fall to your sides and your toes curl as a pin nearly catches in the fabric, “Go make me some toast. See if you still think I’m soft then.”

“But…” you try. 

“Go on,” he says and crawls back into bed before you can play dirty and touch him on the front of his underwear. 

*

Making breakfast has never been harder. 

You are in a world of hellish lust as you enter the bedroom again, holding a plate with buttered toast in your hands. There is a slice for you too, but it’ll take a whole lot longer for you to eat your way through it than it will take Joel to wolf down his own two pieces. 

He sits on the bed in silence, chewing quietly and occasionally brushing a few crumbs off the top of his chest. You hope that he doesn’t see the way you try to rock down on the foot you have tucked underneath yourself because he’d laugh straight into your face. 

“Don’t start without me.”

You sit up straight at being called out and the shirt tugs at your tits. You hiss loudly, “Please.”

“In a moment, just gotta get clean first. Sit against the headboard, ‘n take off your shirt,” he leaves the bed to go wash his hands. He is painfully hard at this point. You nearly break the plate when you move to place it on the nightstand. 

“What’re ya doin’?” He calls over the tap running from the master bathroom. 

“Not getting fucked,” you quip. 

“Watch it,” he replies back as if unaffected. God, he is so much better at this than you.

You are completely naked as he reenters the bedroom. You’ve stuffed a pillow behind your back, halfway to lying down with your ass scooted downwards on the bed a little. Your pussy is flushed pink and glistening, presented, and your nipples are a good amount of shades darker from the blood flow having settled there. The burn is exquisite, but it’s the sight of Joel’s eyes going dark that makes you whine.

“Jesus,” he laughs quietly as he crawls between your legs. Even the weight of him on the bed makes a sound slip from your mouth, “Ain’t ya just an obedient little thing?” 

You blink up at him almost teary-eyed. He takes pity on you. 

“Let’s get these off,” he promises, kneeling to free his hands from having to support himself. He removes one homemade clamp, making you whimper in relief at the ceiling. The blood flow makes your heart pound, slamming painfully against your ribs whilst you anticipate the second clamp being removed.

Joel flicks your abused nipple instead. Your head snaps down to his grin, betrayal visible on your face. Your cunt reacts immediately, feeling too empty and fluttering as it tries sucking in something that isn’t there. 

Joel looks down between your legs. He smiles affectionately, creating an obscene contrast to what he is doing to you. He coos softly at your facial expression, it having turned pained and horny, “Shh… I’ll kiss it better, baby.”

He finally removes the second hairpin. There’s a second where he lets you cry weakly at the new sensation, but then he tugs at both of your nipples to the point where you don’t even have the brain power to say a sound. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

“Good,” he praises, relenting but only to rub the sensitive nubs with his thumbs in clockwise motions, “Don’t think about anything. Just think about this, princess. Feel good?”

It does. You nod. The gentleness behind the touches is soothing you more than you thought it could, the pads of Joel’s fingers bringing your heartbeat down a notch. He traces your areola, breathing a little more erratically at seeing your pussy jump without being touched. 

He tugs again, soothes again until your nipples are red and swollen underneath his fingertips. The clamps have done a number on you because you start to think you might be able to come like this, a growing pressure starting between your legs. 

But Joel isn’t going to let you. He straightens until he is upright again, swallowing thickly as he focuses his attention on your neglected cunt. He runs a warm hand down over your mound, your hips twitching in response to finally being touched. Joel’s breath hitches in his throat as he stares down at his shiny palm, “Why didn’t you say anything? Look at her. She’s weepin’.”

“Just needs you,” your doe-eyes are on full blast. 

“Mhm,” he agrees, lazily running two fingers through your slick folds until you sigh, “You took a lot last night. Think you can handle it?” 

“Want you to keep me sore, Daddy,” you push into his touch again. He swears under his breath, teasingly dipping his digits into your cunt but making no suggestion that he will follow through on what they’re doing. You bat your eyelashes, “Please.”

It does not take much more convincing. He calls you princess again but this time it is with a frustrated sigh. He yanks his boxers down over his hips to let his cock spring free, kicks his underwear all the way off, and lets them fall to the floor of the bedroom in record time. 

He is fully erect. Hard and beautiful. The head of his dick has turned a dark red from having been seeking your attentive touch since he watched you put up your hair. The tip impatiently weeps precome for you. You consider a blowjob for half a second because your mouth waters at the idea of tasting his salt and musk. 

Later, you think, some other time. 

He strokes himself a few times until the bead at the head spills down over the length of him. Your eyes never leave his cock, especially not when he slides it through your glistening folds to coat himself in your arousal. 

“Could come just like this,” you tell him and finally dare to look up into his eyes. He smiles back at you and it tugs at your heartstrings. You reach out to hold his elbows and lift your legs to wrap them around his waist. 

In one smooth motion, he positions himself and rocks into you without stopping until he has bottomed out. The girth of him never ceases to amaze you. It’s the same each time; he stretches your walls painfully until you whimper and tells you that big girls can take it. Ain’t you a big girl? You nod with your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it to suppress the pathetic little noise that’s bubbling up in your chest. 

It works for a moment but only until Joel tells you to breathe. The noise finally comes out and it becomes wanton when he starts fucking into you. He pounds you like yesterday and you can barely contain yourself anymore, whining and groaning as he gives it to you with the intention of making you sore all over. Your walls are already sensitive, and you hate to think that you haven’t actually been out of your state of arousal since you knocked on his door. It’s embarrassing. It’s infatuation. 

You let out a high-pitched squeak as he bucks up his hips, nudging at the front of your walls and searching for that little spot inside you that belongs to him by now. He finds it expertly, fits inside of you like you were made for each other. 

“There!” You plea whilst arching your back, “Daddy, it’s right—“

“I know where it fuckin’ is,” he leans down to kiss you, breaths coming out through his nose as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. You dig your nails into the back of his arms, making an attempt to move with him and oh God, you kiss him so deeply. 

“Say I’m the best you’ve ever had,” he growls when he pulls back for a breath that he can barely catch, sweat threatening to drip down from his brow. He has one hand on the headboard, making the bed rattle underneath the both of you, and the other lays over your heart. He applies just the slightest pressure to your chest. 

“You’re— baby, please,” you can barely find the words, gasping out into the room. The only thing you can think of is how important it feels to hold onto him as he drives into your cunt, scared that if you let go you’ll melt into the mattress and never see him again. You never want that to happen. You want to drown in everything he is. 

“Say it,” he gives you a particularly hard thrust, managing to put the hand on the headboard behind your head before you bang it into the wood. You don’t even think you would have noticed it if it had happened since you are so delirious already from being so fucked out. 

“Best— best I’ve ever had,” you stutter out between loud moans, the pleasurable tightening in your belly soon reaching a crescendo, “I’m close, oh f— I’m so close.”

“Careful, princess,” he notes as you almost swear at him, “Don’t make— shit, don’t give me a reason to stop.”

He wouldn’t, you think, he is as lost in you as you are in him. 

“Never,” you pant, noises climbing in pitch, “I’m gonna be so good for you, Daddy. Gonna come— oh God, please, gonna come on your cock!”

“Yeah,” his thighs flex, your legs squeeze harder around him, “Oh fuuuck, I can feel you— come on my dick, sweetheart. You can do it.” 

The tightening releases into sweet clenches. Your vision blanks for just a moment, your brain unable to focus on any other of your five senses except touch, and Joel touches you deep inside as his hips stutter and your walls milk everything he has to give. 

He fucks you through it, bucks his hips upwards to prod at your g-spot whilst you shiver and moan from the heat of your climax. It may be even more intense than yesterday despite how many highs he pulled from you. 

Everything stills. Time passes while you pant. The windows must be foggy by now. Joel slips out with a soft groan and kisses away the pained moan you let out when emptiness hits.

You are sure you are experiencing heat stroke as you try catching your breath. There are small beads of sweat scattered all over your chest and stomach, some collecting in the dip of your belly button. You feel like you are floating in the Sunday afternoon silence. A bird chirps outside of the window, and you catch yourself wondering why you haven’t heard it until now. He is too important, you think, so important that you filter out anything that isn’t him until he leaves you in this state of clarity. You love him.

Joel is staring down at you and you can see yourself in the reflection of his brown eyes. He glows just like you, filled to the brim with dopamine. His skin burns as you rub his arms where you have been digging your nails into them moments before. You wonder if he feels the same as you; like someone who is seconds from evaporating, bursting, something, unable to move, in love. 

You pull him down into yourself. He sticks to you in a way that would normally have you scrunching up your nose, but you don’t care about it right now because his cheek is pressed to yours. You giggle softly with post-orgasmic excitement. 

But then a thought reluctantly worms its way into your head. Why isn’t he saying something? You know why you aren’t, but why isn’t he? 

“Joel,” you say in confusion as he suddenly starts to break free from your embrace. He moves to sit up next to you, eyes the plate on the nightstand, and practically launches himself up from the bed so he can take it to the kitchen. 

You crawl across the bed without thinking as if you have the speed to catch his wrist before he is out the door, “Joel. Fuck, Joel!”

That catches his attention. Joel turns in the doorway. He sets the plate down on his dresser instead, “You know I fuckin’ hate that.”

“Well shit,” you continue and he visibly flinches. 

“Don’t say anything,” you don’t think you have ever warned him as he repeatedly does with you, “Don’t say anything, just come here.” 

You hold out your hands, still on your knees at the edge of the bed. You grab at the air, and after a brief pause, Joel gives in. He steps forward until you can hold onto his wrists, “Remember that time you wiped away my tears? The first time we… doesn’t matter. Point is I was sad and you were there.”

Joel avoids replying. He swallows thickly, jaw muscles tensing. 

“I just mean that you can talk to me,” you finish your speech which is barely a speech with a beating heart. There are so many butterflies in your stomach that they are making you slightly nauseous. You look at him expectantly, watching his eyes skim over your face, scanning for what you assume is genuineness. You won’t ask why he needs reassurance that you are telling him the truth. 

“I’m falling for you,” he breathes out. 

Of all things, you do not expect this. 

“Ditto,” you say back, eyes widening when you realize that it’s the word you have managed to blurt out. 

“Ditto?” Joel furrows his brow. 

You slap his arm, “Shut it. You know what ditto means.”

But then he bursts out laughing and your heart swells. He leans down over you, naked and vulnerable right there in front of you, and kisses you gently. 

He inhales deeply afterward, then asks the question that you want an answer to as well: “What in the world are we going to do?”

*

It comes out of nowhere a few weeks later when you’re home again. 

“You know Joel?” Your dad asks as if you have never noticed him in the many years he’s been your father’s best friend. You try not to freeze. 

“Yes, I obviously know Mr. Miller, Dad. What about him?” You sip your coffee, eyeing the crossword on the back of the newspaper that your father is holding up in front of himself. 

“Think he’s seein’ some new lady,” he replies but there’s no tone to his voice. 

You tense in your seat, setting down your mug to avoid dropping it if the news is about to break, “Why do you think that?”

“Don’t matter why, but she’s good for him, I can tell,” your father is still oblivious, “Just smiles more.”

“Ah, well good for him,” you pause briefly, “Can I get the crossword puzzle?”

“Sure, honey.”

As he rustles the paper to pull out the page, you stand with the excuse of getting a pen, but when you have your back to your father, you grin to yourself and don’t mind the butterflies that seem to have moved into your body.

Joel is right. 

What in the world are you going to do?

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[kolyubov]

sigma nsfw hcs

Sigma nsfw headcanons! + short scenario.

✧ pairing: Sigma x fem!reader

✧ word count: 1.4k

✧ contents: nsfw, creampie/unprotected sex, praising, brief manhandling, soft!dom sigma.

✧ author's note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG NONNIE 😣😣 I'm veryvery sorry, I'm kissing your forehead as an apology. btw, I'm very shy to post this idk wWHY if this is not the first time I'm writing nsfw lmao.

I'd say Sigma is soft!dom. He can be submissive if you want to, or when he's too tired after a long day of work and lets you take the lead as he lies on the bed, but he prefers to be the one worshiping you and making you feel good while his hands caress every inch of your body.

Definitely was a virgin before meeting you; that doesn't mean he doesn't know what sex is, he probably learned a few things about it and even masturbated before.

Sigma is sensitive— like, you sitting on his lap innocently usually gets him half hard. The feeling of your soft ass against his crotch awakens something in him, and he's a bit ashamed that he gets aroused easily but that's because he loves you so much and his body cannot help but react at your touch.

When he makes out with you, he usually gets too caught up and starts grinding against your body until either of you decides to pull away with flushed cheeks and heavy breathing.

Gets turned on by seeing you wearing his shirt and nothing else.

Sometimes he ties his hair up to eat you out because he knows he's going to be at least ten minutes licking your cunt even after you climax (He could keep going for longer but his jaw needs a break). Other times he's too desperate and forgets to put his hair in a bun or a ponytail and you have to hold his hair up for him.

Like I said in this, he likes creampies. Filling you up and seeing how both of your combined fluids slip out of your pussy gives him satisfaction.

He could probably just cum from hearing you call him a “good boy” or telling him that he's “doing so well” with a breathy voice as you ride him.

Making love should be comfortable for both of you; so he's not a big fan of quickies, let alone in risky places where someone could find you engaging in such activities. But, If he's too needy he'll accept you stroking him or sucking him off in his office or somewhere he's sure no one is going to catch you.

Secretly enjoys the hickeys he left on your neck or shoulders even if he denies it and apologizes to you with puppy eyes for it. Sigma knows that anyone who sees those purple or red hues in your skin is going to know that you belong to him.

Also secretly likes the idea of sitting on your lap and nuzzling against the crook of your neck as you wrap your hand around his shaft, stroking him and whispering against his ear until he cums all over your palm like a good boy.

Sigma loves you so much inside and out, but if he has to choose a favorite part of your body it'll be your breasts (no matter the size) and your waist. Under a sexual context or not, he likes kneading on those spots.

He doesn't like it rough, but when he's too desperate he'll unintentionally scratch your skin with his pretty lilac nails; could it be your hips, waist, ass, or thighs. Or he’ll force your head to take him deeper if you're sucking him off. (Apologies a lot after and feels bad)

He doesn’t have any favorite positions, as long as he's able to see the pleasure in your face, that's enough for him.

Whimpers and moans, no matter if he's sub or dom, but he bites his lip to hide them, although when he's close to cumming he'll be all loud without even realizing it.

After the sex ends, he likes to stay inside of you as his cock softens before actually pulling out, then he presses kisses all over your face and chest before helping you to stand to take a shower together… which could maybe lead to another round.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“You're so pretty… My precious girl...” Sigma's hands grip your waist tighter, squeezing your skin as your hips bounce up and down his cock— skin slapping against skin. His head is thrown back against the headboard as pleasure curses his body; your warm walls feel like heaven even if he has already felt it multiple times before.

The room was filled with wet squelching noises and moans that neither of you noticed were escalating louder with each thrust— Luckily, the walls were thick enough so the sounds escaping from the two of you were not heard by other people.

Sigma nuzzles his face in your chest, white and lilac locks of hair tickle your skin as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his warm body and keeping you still with his cock buried inside you.

Both of you —now completely unmoving— were recovering your breaths, panting heavily.

As you run a hand through his hair, making him look up at you, Sigma’s cock twitches. Seeing such a gorgeous woman in front of him; hair messy, lipstick smudged that probably stained his lips as well, hickeys that decorate your neck, shoulders, and chest… How could he not feel like he was in heaven?

“Darling, could you please lie down?” He whispers with heavy breathing, pecking your chin before you slowly pull away from his arms to lie on the mattress.

Sigma smiles softly at the sight, his delicate fingers push away any lock of hair that's covering your pretty red face that he loves so much. Then, he places his hands on your knees, spreading your legs further before sliding his cock inside again, groaning at the tightness surrounding him.

His hips began moving slowly, choosing to admire how your face contoured in pleasure. Butterflies fluttered on his tummy when his eyes met with yours, looking at your pretty lips parted and your perfect breasts jiggling as his hips slammed against yours.

Sigma's heart was beating too fast, not only because of the pleasure of making love with you but also because of his adoration for you.

He notices the way your body squirms and the way your walls contract around his cock— he's good at memorizing things, and the reactions of your body are something he knows very well.

“Are you close, princess?” He asks, and you nod eagerly, wrapping your legs around his hips.

The hand that was on your breast moves to one of your hands, locking your fingers with his and brushing his fingertips over the back of your hand in a soothing way.

You felt loved by his sweet caresses and words— he was so sweet and delicate with you, despite sometimes getting too engrossed in the moment and leaving a couple of marks on your body, but that's just proof of his love for you, so you don't mind.

Sigma's forehead lies against your shoulder, and you can clearly hear his breathy whines as he nears his orgasm. His hand tightens around yours as his thrusts get faster until he eventually stops when the tip of his cock nudges your womb; spurts of white fluid paint your insides.

The moans and whine you let are music to his ears and he'll never get tired of hearing them, it's proof of how good he's making you feel.

“God… Oh my god…” He hisses out, lazily moving his hips back and forth, driving his orgasm longer until you tap his back for him to stop, too stimulated to continue.

Sigma is quick to cup your cheek and press slow and gentle kisses over your face, moving down to your neck and finishing at your chest. His lips tickle you, making you giggle and squirm.

“Hey…” You whine, looking down at his puppy eyes.

“What's wrong, angel?”

“Tickles.”

He snorts, pulling away and placing his hands on the mattress as support before slowly pulling out of you while biting his lower lip, and muffling a moan.

His hands carefully grab your waist, helping you to sit up on the messy bed that feels a little bit too comfortable right now— You want to just lie back and sleep with him in your arms.

“I'm too sleepy to take a shower now…”

Sigma chuckles, pecking your nose before scooping you and carrying you like a damsel in distress. Your protests fall on deaf ears.

“Don't worry, I’ll clean you while you sleep in the bathtub, how does that sound?”

A smile spreads across his face as you nuzzle against his neck and close your eyes— Your expression is so peaceful that he can feel his heartbeat slowing down just from seeing how peaceful you look right now.

Sigma will do anything for you. He loves you so much.

© 2024 pinklacydovey

[snakewithawitchhat]

Sm♡t Alphabet

Featuring Wukong

I saw some people doing this and thought it was fun! So, for the record, THIS IDEA ISN'T MINE. I WISH I COULD GIVE CREDIT, BUT IDK WHO STARTED ITTT :(((

Tw for… well… smutty themes (stay safe! <3)

Aftercare— He's amazing at it. He'll give you kisses, praises and compliments, ask if you're okay and if he was too rough, and even rub your back. Heck, he'll cuddle you for as long as you want. He'll treat you like you're his queen/king/ruler

Body part— Wukong's favorite body part of yours is your thighs and neck. He loves covering them both in bite marks and hickies. Plus, your thighs make such a nice pillow. And he loves the way you sound when he touches them both.

Cum (anything they like to do with it)— He hates using protection. He will if you want him to, of course, but he doesn't like it. He wants to be as feral and close to you as possible. If you're fucked too dumb to protest against it, he's most definitely cumming inside you. After, he'll probably apologize, though.

Dirty Secret— He loves it when you take control and degrade him. He'd hate to admit it, but when you're bouncing on his hips, panting out dirty things and insults into his ear, it makes his body all tingly and hot.

Experience— He's, like, a bazillion years old! Of course he's experienced! Well… more so in self pleasurable sex, but he's learned a lot and knows how to pleasure you, too.

Favorite position— Anything where he presses against you. He doesn't know any names of them, so you'd have to help him with that, but he loves it when his chest is pressed against your back, your ass up as he pounds into you from behind and buries his face into the back of your neck.

Goofy— He does make the occasional pun or two, but otherwise, he's completely serious. Most of the time, his mind is so fuzzed with need that he rarely even speaks.

Hair (carpet match the drapes?)— he's very well groomed. He showers often, thoroughly brushes his fur, and makes sure he's completely clean before and after the deed.

Intimacy (romance)— He's not very romantic. Not at all. He's often too in the moment and hazy with lust to do anything like that. He will try, though.

Jack off— Whenever you're not there, he'll relieve himself. Most of the time, he buries his face into your sweatshirt or an article of your clothing to finish. He can't without your scent.

Kink— He keeps these completely secret, but it's easy to see he has them. He has a thing for degradation, of course. As well as breeding and primal play. He loves the idea of hunting you down and putting a bun in the oven.

Location (favorite place to do it)— Anywhere he can get away with it, he'll do it. Even in public. As long as no one sees you in such a position, he's happy. Most of the time, it's in your or his house, though.

Motivation/turn ons— Just you in general. Your scent, your clothes, your touch. Anything. It happens randomly, most of the time. Although, he loves it when you start up something. If you say something suggestive, he'll be so impatient he can't even wait until you're done with work.

No/turn offs— If anyone gets hurt enough to cry (mentally or physically), he's done. He doesn't want to make you hurt. Unless it's to mark you.

Oral (receiving/giving)— He sucks at giving. Most of the time, he's used to people giving everything to him and begging to. With you, though, he really wants to give you whatever pleasure he can. You'll have to teach him a few things, though.

Pace— Wukong is rough and hard. He'll try to start off slow—He really will—but in the end, he always loses control. You're so soft and perfect and noisy. He can't help it.

Quickie— He hates quickies. He wants to last as long as possible with you! He wants to fuck you for three days straight. Not three minutes!

Risk— He's fine with trying something new. As long as you are, too, of course. You'll have to convince him, though, because he'll hate any position that doesn't include you pressing flush against his body.

Stamina—It's Sun Wukong. He's going to last a VERY long time. He can go for several hours. Probably even days. He'd hate to break you, though.

Toy— Funnily enough, he's jealous as hell about any toys you own. He could do just as much, if not more than those silly things! He likes the vibrator, though. If you use it on him, he'll be a mess in seconds, and if he uses it on you, he loves the noises you make! That's the only toy he can stand. (To my afabs out there—He'll probably let you peg him, though hehehe)

Unfair/teasing— He hates teasing you. He wants to make you cum as much as possible. Over and over. As much as he loves your needy sounds, he loves the screams and breathless gasps that bubble from your throat as he fucks you dumb.

If you tease him, though… oh, he loves that. He can't wait to absolutely demolish you for it later, too.

Volume— He is loud. He'll snarl and grunt and huff and whine. Half of Fruit-Flower Mountain can probably hear him.

Wild Card— He's into thigh-high socks and anything lingerie. Especially if it's something cutesy with bows or animal ears.

X-ray— 10 inches. That's all I'm going to say. Heheh

Yearning (sex drive)— It's high. Very high. It's a shock if he goes without it for a whole day. Now that he has you, he's trying to make up for all those days he didn't.

Zzz (how fast he blacks out)— He doesn't even have to. After one or two rounds, he could still keep going through his day like nothing happened right after. He'll probably sleep beside you, though, because you'll probably be spent.

I should write more smut of this man. I still haven't :,)

IMA DO THIS WITH MACAQUE NEXTTT HEHEHEH

[cod-dump]

Braid (teen!Ghost au)

___

It wasn't often that Nik was home alone. Well, alone without any human residents. The fur children flocked to him when it was just him. Riley following his every step, Smokey stalking from a distance, sometime choosing to lay on his lap when he was sitting, and Small Fry insisting sitting on his shoulder to supervise whatever task he was doing.

The boys were out with their own respective friend groups, Gary was spending quality time with Phillip, John was working, and Farah was at her own job. So, Nik was alone, entertaining the animals he brought into the home. He adored them but their clinginess was making it hard for him to work. He could put Small Fry up and Smokey in Kyle's room, but Riley wouldn't be put up quietly. He cries... loudly.

"Children, I need space."

At least Smokey didn't require to have physical contact with him at all times.

"I'm home!"

Riley ran from the room as soon as they heard Farah. Nik sighed and abandoned the radio pieces on the kitchen table, he'll have to deal with that later. He sat back against the chair as Farah walked in.

"Wow. Did you break it again?"

"I did not... it was Piotr."

"I don't think your tech guy would appreciate you blaming him for everything."

"He knows what he did."

Farah snorts before he sits across from him and slumps down. She looked drained, hair falling from it's bun. She was working retail at the moment, getting some pocket money before she fully committed to an university. John and Nik were helping her whenever she allowed it, neither daring to cross her clear boundaries.

"Thought you liked your hair braided?"

"Didn't have the energy for it this morning. Sometimes John will French braid it for me but he was ready to leave when I got up so I didn't ask."

Nik hums, "Maybe I could help..."

"Do you even know how to braid?"

"I could learn. Just need a good tutorial. I'm a visual learner."

Farah huffs with a small smile, "You don't have to do that."

"But I want to."

"... You're going to make me cry, Nik."

"It's just hair!"

The girl stares, Nik knew what John and he did for her meant everything. She lived in their house rent free, Nik helped her get a decent starter car, and they helped her get a job while also helping her get into a good university. She wasn't used to such help, their willingness to do whatever it took to make sure she had a comfortable life.

"Come. I'll find a video and I can practice on the couch. You want pizza?"

Farah quietly nodded and Nik got his phone out to order. He put the order in on the phone, resuming silence after he asked what she wanted and she answered. Nik could see that she indeed wanted to cry so a hug might be a too much for her.

"I... I talked to Hadir yesterday."

"Oh? How is he faring?"

Farah's older brother didn't come around. He didn’t know what the young man was up to or if he needed help, and neither did Farah. He was the one part of her blood family she could talk to and he was never around.

"He's... alive. I keep trying to meet up with him but he won't come around. Nik... could you see if you could find him for me?"

"You want me to find him?"

"I just need to know if he's okay! I'm worried about him."

Nik frowns, "I'll get my guys looking."

"Thank you..."

He really wanted to hug her but he restrained himself.

"I'll put Small Fry up and then we can settle in the living room."

"Okay..."

Farah left first to go change, Nik wishing he could make all her troubles disappear. Sadly, it was unattainable, so he will settle for at least locating her brother and making sure he's alright.

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Yuji's picked up skating and Choso wants to as well - problem is, he's got two left feet. And that's where you, Yuki's extremely good-looking friend, come in. A/N: SINCERELY SORRY IF YOU GUYS CAN'T SKATE ice skating is a pastime of mine and grrrr Choso skating was doing things to me. Requested by the lovely @ash4ree, I hope you like it! WARNINGS: GN reader, modern AU where Choso and Yuki run a tattoo parlour and no swears this time I swear (whoops, one right there)

“…Kamo, I think you better let me take over the cashier. You’re really spacing out hard.”

“Huh - what - oh, sorry, Yuki.” The man shook himself out of his daze, running a tense hand through the untidy strands falling out of his two spiky buns. He takes the proffered thermos and downs a gulp of coffee, grimacing and opening his mouth to fan his tongue. “Crap, I forgot it was hot.”

“Case in point,” the blonde announces, gently elbowing him away from the counter. “Go get your lunch break, dummy. You’re not helping sales if you just stand there staring out the store like a creep. Did something happen?”

Choso reluctantly peeled himself away and began looking for his packed lunch. “Not really.”

“Not sleep well last night?”

“No, no, I slept fine.”

“Well, you’ve been doing a pretty good job with latest customer’s tattoos, so it can’t possibly be work related…” Yuki tapped her chin. “Did you poke yourself with the a needle by mistake again?’

“It was one time.”

“You’ve got that constipated look,” Yuki hummed and wished she had a camera to capture Choso’s protesting, open-mouthed expression. “Wait, wait, I’ve got it! Yuji?”

“Well…” Choso’s face softened, as it usually did whenever someone mentioned his younger brother. It was usually followed by a long winded ramble about whatever Yuji had been doing yesterday, accompanied by aggressively showing photos and rhetorical questions. Yuki was sure this time he had something else to say so she stuck around, but if he was going to start she was going to exclaim that she had to go somewhere important or distract him with the ever trusty “have you put up the new tat designs yet?”.

“You remember his friend, Megumi?”

“Gojo’s kid? Yeah, I remember him; porcupine hair, grumpy face, about yea high?”

“That’s the one. Anyways, he and his sister - Tsumiki, I think - took up ice skating recently.”

“Rich people thing, but what does this have to do with Yuji?”

“Now Yuji wants to learn to skate as well.” Choso awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

Yuki raised her eyebrows. “If it’s about money I keep telling you you can take all the tips-”

“No, it’ll be unfair if we don’t split!” Noble as always was Choso. Sigh. “Money’s not the problem. Gojo’s happy to sponsor and all I have to do is send him off to the rink anyway…”

“So what IS the problem?” Yuki prodded.

“…I tried to go with him yesterday.” Choso groaned and put his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to skate. At all.”

“You can learn, it can’t be that bad.”

“It was. I fell down about thirty times, Yuji counted. I can’t believe even Megumi is doing better than me.” Choso’s face turned wistful. “Yuji said it’s okay if I didn’t go with him next time, but I do, you know?”

Yuki, unfortunately, did know. Choso was THAT dream brother, the one who enthusiastically got into everything you did. The one who never, ever missed a single important competition, performance or playdate in your life. The one who did his absolute best to never embarrass you (obviously he did sometimes, but only because he was so proud of Yuji). The one who if you said you wanted the moon to be hung in your bedroom, he’ll hang the moon in your bedroom.

No surprise he would want to try and bond with Yuji with his latest hyper-fixation.

No surprise either he’d worry that he’d be making Yuji embarrassed that his big brother was such a klutz in the ice rink.

“It’ll be cool to skate together,” Choso finished hopefully.

Briefly Yuki flashed back to the time Yuji wanted tattoos like his elder brother and she had to talk him out of actually considering giving Yuji real, permanent tats, compromising with those tacky but washable ones.

“But even the staff there couldn’t help me.”

Now, the imaginary commentator would bellow, may we be proud to present, Yuki Tsukumo here to save the day!

Yuki smirked and slung a hand over his shoulders, a grin too wide to not be sneaky. “Don’t worry, Kamo! Big Sis Yuki’s got your back - I know someone who’ll be more than happy to help you if I pull in a couple of favors!”

“Really?” Predictably Choso brightened considerably. “Woah, thanks-”

“But first.” Yuki pushed him away to loom over him at arms length, eyes narrowed, assessing. “You haven’t answered me. What’s your type?”

***

“Hi Yuji.”

“Megumi! Guess what! Choso’s going to be skating today!” Yuji nimbly jumped inside the car, practically vibrating with excitement as he plopped down next to Megumi.

“With us?” The dark-haired boy’s usual frown deepened slightly. “Doesn’t he keep falling though?”

Yuji smiles wide enough for everyone to see his missing tooth. “I know! It’s so funny! But-” he motioned for Megumi to come closer, cupping his hand to his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper. “Someone else’s coming to give him lessons. Yuki-san told me so!”

“Who? Choso only has two friends and none of them know how to skate.” If Mahito, the creepy blue-haired man that the older brother sometimes hung out with did know how to ice skate…well, neither of them knew, mostly due to the fact he was too creepy to talk to despite his outwardly friendly appearance.

“You only have one friend as well, Megumi, and that’s me,” Yuji said bluntly, blissfully oblivious to Megumi’s disgruntled attitude at that statement. “I don’t know who it is but he’ll be coming soon with them to skate! That’ll be so cool if Choso made a new friend!”

Megumi flashed back to the time Yuji attempted to have the grocery store cashier “befriend” Choso, namely by having the both of them go find him when he disappeared somewhere in the freezer aisle. It did not end well but apparently his myopic friend didn’t think so. “Whatever you’d like to think.”

“Aw, Megumi, play nice! I’m sure it’ll be sooo cool if Choso made a new friend!” Up front in the passenger seat Gojo cackled, long legs awkwardly propped up on the dash. “Heavens knows he needs some. He can’t keep babysitting you, Tsumiki, Nanako, Mimiko and Yuji and call you guys his friends.”

“Why not? I’m not his friend?” Yuji looks horrified.

“Technically you’re his brother - ow!”

Geto, the exhausted-running-on-only-caffeine driver, retracts the hand he used to rap Gojo’s head with. “Don’t act so energetic when you did nothing to help me send off all the kids.”

“Hey! I helped Tsumiki get her bag and made the twins put on jackets and literally everything else you told me to do!”

“You forgot to pack my gloves,” Megumi said flatly.

“I didn’t see you driving Tsumiki to her book club or volunteering to help at Nanako’s photography club event or arranging time for Mimiko’s ballet recital or helping get their snacks ready or go wash the dishes in the sink from breakfast, which not only did I tell you to do but it’s your turn.”

“Suguru, you really wound me.” Gojo pretended to choke on tears.

Yuji burst out laughing. “Woah, Gojo-san is really useless!”

“Is that any way to treat the man who assisted in opening your brother��s tattoo parlor, young man?”

“Geto made you,” Megumi said again.

“I’m not listening to a snot-nosed brat who can’t even tie the laces to his skates,” Gojo declared.

Geto steered the car into the drop-off point, clearing his throat to be heard as he unlocked the doors. “He’s your kid, Satoru. Anyways, kiddos, I’ll be dropping you both here. Be good, don’t do anything Gojo would and Megumi better be there when I come to pick him both up. If Choso’s taking you both out to eat though, let me know or tell him to give me a call.”

“Noted with thanks.” Megumi exited the car swiftly, but not before gesturing rudely at his guardian.

“Now where did he learn that, I wonder?” Geto muttered, side eyeing the passenger princess. Gojo ignored him.

“Bye Geto-san! Bye Gojo-san! See you guys later!” Yuji’s hand waves wildly as he hops off.

Gojo rolls down the window to catcall one more time, pushing down his sunglasses. “Hey, kid, hope you’re ready to get a new sibling~”

“What?”

“Sibling-in-law,” Geto corrected, and they drove off.

***

Yuki had told him some basic facts about you. Your name, your age, your job, for instance.

She completely neglected to mention how amazing you looked.

Choso was glad he had decided to throw in a little more effort into his wardrobe today, but he was still anxiously tugging at the collar of his black hoodie. Thankfully his hair was down as well today to hide his ears, which he had no doubt where even more pink than Yuji’s hair.

Because man oh man were you drop-dead gorgeous.

What you were wearing only enhanced what Choso was convinced was godly beauty. And damn, the way you walked with utter confidence as you approached him outside the rink, your smile brighter than the midday sun and and and - crap he can’t remember anything he could call bright now that he’s seen your smile. You’re going to put him in cardiac arrest or at the very least short circuit his brain when you walk right up and start talking in that sweet, smooth voice of yours.

What was his favorite type of music? He’d absolutely say your voice now.

“Hi! You’re Choso right?” You cover your mouth as you shyly laugh. Why’d you do that? Choso wants to see it. “Yuki told me to look for a tall guy with longish hair and a tattooed face who stands there like he got off at the wrong train station.”

Play it cool, play it cool. And because the people he mainly hangs out with are kids he says, “Yeah I’m Choso. I like your shoes.”

“Really?” You glance down and laugh again. “Oh, um, thanks, I guess.”

He kicks himself internally.

“So, Yuki said you wanted to learn how to skate to impress your brother?”

“Uh, yeah.” Choso nods. At least that didn’t sound too weird. “He picked up skating recently and I just think it’ll be nice if we could do it together, because all I can do right now is, you know, sit at the sidelines since…I’m really bad at skating.”

“It’s fine!” You said enthusiastically. “It takes a couple tries to get the hang of it, but I’m pretty hopeful I’ll get you skating by yourself in one lesson - um, not to sound arrogant. It’s pretty sweet you want to learn skating just for your brother, heh; you must really look up to him.”

“I do.” Yuji made friends so effortlessly and he was amazing at any sport he tried his hand at. Yuki could laugh at him all she liked but his opinion was his opinion. Choso shuffled his feet. “I’ll be really grateful if you can. I’ll even pay-”

“No, no, this is completely free, Choso! Don’t worry, it’s all on a favor to Yuki anyway, so if anybody pays, it’s her,” You joke, waving a hand, gratified to see him crack a nervous grin. “So…” You plodded over to the rink, so steady atop the blades of the skates. Choso takes a little while longer, wobbling uncertainly, but he thanks his lucky stars he managed to cross over without tripping like last time.

“Which one’s your brother?”

Choso proudly pointed at the kid with the fluffiest pink hair you’ve ever seen chasing his spiky-haired, brooding counterpart around the ice with the skill of an Olympics professional. “That one.”

“Oh my god.”

Choso panics when your hand slaps over your mouth and your eyes screw up closed. You sounded like you were holding back some really odd noises as well. Did he do something wrong? Oh no. “Are you okay? Are you cold or-”

“He’s a little silly.” Yuki leans across the table, with a sly look. “I’m sure he’s got a brother complex, actually. Don’t mind him if he gets really excited if you mention Yuji.”

“No, no, Yuki didn’t tell me you were this cute!”

“I-” Choso feels his face heat up like an oven and his mouth dries. “Um.”

You grab his hand and yank him into the rink. “Come on, we’ll get you skating in no time!”

***

Truly you meant what you said. Yuki didn’t tell you he was THIS cute and you were going to put her out of whack for it.

You had originally regretted bemoaning your fate of being single for so long already when you had met up with the blonde a week ago, because Yuki being Yuki she was going to grill you for a very detailed description of your type just so she could set you up with someone on a blind date. What a wicked friend - somehow she managed to set you up on one anyway, but you were going to let it slide on the fact that 1. he was really, really cute (not just in looks; so rare are grown men who want to do these things just for their little brother!) and 2. Yuki was giving you a chance to show off your stomping ground and potentially impress HIM, something you weren’t going to throw away to get back at her.

Stay calm, stay calm, you chanted to yourself as you led him out to the rink. Oh god he was so cute and anxious gingerly moving like a newborn giraffe it made you want to- Focus. Seriously.

“Try and skate, I want to see how well you can do,” you said in what you hope was a normal, level tone of voice and not a representation of how you feel when he grabbed your arm to steady himself.

“Um…I’m scared I’ll trip and take you down with me,” Choso confessed, tightening his grip just slightly (it sent you reeling). “I accidentally tripped up Yuji’s friend’s dad once.”

“It’s fine! It’ll take more than some ice to hurt me,” You assure him cheekily. “Go on, try. I’ll do my best to catch you if I fall!”

“Alright, if you say so…”

You glided closer to where he sat on his bum. “I mean, at least you managed a couple meters.”

“I did a split,” Choso groans.

“You’re quite the gymnast,” you agree and offer your hand to help him out. He catches your eye and it’s all over.

“OH MY GOD! I’M - S-SORRY, IT - IT WAS JUST - JUST SO - JUST SO FUNNY - I CAN’T - I SHOULDN’T - I SHOULDN’T BE LAUGHING BUT - OH MY GOD - YOUR FACE - “

“Stop! It’s not that funny!” Choso buries his face into his hands, pulling up the hood of his jacket. But eventually he succumbs to the humor of the situation as well.

The two of you garnered quite a number of stares as you both doubled over and laughed until you swore you needed stitches for your sides now. You both glance up, just for a moment and maybe sparks flew if Choso hadn’t lost his balance and would’ve face-planted into the ice if you hadn’t grabbed him in time.

Now you both were in a…questionable position, to say the least. He was half leaning on you, head smooshed against your side as you tried to maneuver him back to standing with suddenly stiff hands, like two waltz partners when one was dipping the other. Your heart was pounding and you wondered if he could hear it. His face was burning red; he prayed you couldn’t see it. Two pairs of eyes locked.

“Um. So.” You broke the silence first.

Choso hurriedly pushed himself away, waving his hands frantically. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It was a total accident!”

Then the laughter explodes out again.

The commotion seemed to have gotten the attention of Choso’s brother and his friend as well. When you finally straightened, wiping at your streaming eyes, you came face-to-face with two gleaming brown ones as the boy grabs your hand in a tight handshake. “Hi! I’m Yuji! You must be Choso’s new friend and the one teaching him to skate?”

If Yuji wasn’t on ice you’d bet he’d be jumping up and down from glee. “I can’t wait to skate with him! He’s so bad at it he can barely take a step without slipping!”

“Yuji!” Choso can’t believe it. His beloved brother. Betraying him. Exposing him.

“Yeah, last time he tripped up Gojo,” Megumi adds. Choso could cry. Instead he puts a hand on their shoulders (he can’t bend down without falling/being unable to get up again if he’s not holding something) and leans close.

“Taiyaki if you guys don’t mention this, please.”

Yuji blinks and nods seriously, before turning back to a bewildered but entertained you. “My bad! Choso’s really good at skating! He’s never fallen down before!”

Not like that, Yuji. Choso wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Since when were little kids this silly?

“Let’s go back to skating, Yuji. “ At least one of them feels bad for him. Megumi skates off, beckoning for his friend to follow. “We’ll leave the lovebirds to skate themselves.”

“Megumi!” Choso gasps. He took it back. All kids were merciless.

You seem more amused though, giggling. “Come on, they’re right. I said I’ll get you skating by today and skating you will be by today!”

“Alright!”

He couldn’t help but beam back. You had that effect. Addicting and contagious. Anything but detrimental though.

“Okay, let’s try that again, but this time I’ll be right behind you, so grab me if need be.”

Choso nodded. “Got it.”

You watched carefully as the man slowly struggles to skate a little distance. He nearly falls, but steadies himself quickly. After a while it’s easy to spot the problem, so you reluctantly pull yourself away from admiring his form, however shaky.

“Wait, wait, hold up here.” You skated in front of him a bit and pointed down. “Skating isn’t walking. Try imagining a scooter or a skateboard, where one foot remains unmoving while the other propels you forward. It’s not really an accurate way to skate but it worked for me on starting out.”

Choso tried not to get distracted by the smell of you and your clothes, concentrating on his feet. Think about other things, not the extremely good-looking person in front of you. Other things - don’t fall - other things…

He flashed back to the time he tried to teach Yuji to use a skateboard and fell into a ditch. Um, probably explained why he was so bad at skating.

“Hey, I’m doing it!” Choso excitedly let go of your arm and pushed himself forward a little more. “I’m doing it! I’m skating - oh woah - never mind - ouch.”

“Well, almost!” You cheered, clapping your hands and mimicking confetti falling as you skated over to help him up. “You did it! Now we just gonna work on your falling problem - I think it’s because you’re trying to go faster than you can right now.”

“It’s progress,” Choso says hopefully. He tries to get up.

“No, don’t get up like that, you’re gonna fall right down again. Put up one foot like you’re kneeling and use it to push yourself up.”

And so it went on, you directing instructions, tips and corrections to Choso while he did his best to follow them, occasionally sending your heart fluttering and your stomach twisting every time he grabbed your hand to steady himself. It was like your hands were molded to fit each other perfectly, you thought giddily, then shut off that train of thought. No! You both had just met! You were just here on a favor to Yuki! Nothing more!

“Lean forward a little more - wait, no, not that much, don’t fall for me again, haha.”

“Just relax your hands, don’t keep flailing them.”

“Come on! Go, go, go, you got this! No! Don’t look back! Pretend I’m in front of you!”

But still, you couldn’t help but flush pink at the jubilant grin decorating his face as he zipped back to you, hyped over his newfound achievement.

“I did it! I skated a whole round!”

“I know you did, congratu- oof!”

He tackled you in a tight hug, crushing your arms and your head underneath his chin but you didn’t mind. Choso was warm, awfully so after you both had spent so much time in the freezing rink, but maybe that was just his personality. You melted, and it was like gluing a cracked vase back together again - a perfect fit.

Then Choso froze and let go, pushing back. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, no worries, don’t sweat it!” You tried for a smile, even though the sudden loss of his hold left something aching in you.

He smiled again and you decided to be bold.

You spread your arms. “Can I get another one, maybe? Just to celebrate.”

***

“So, it’s just you and Yuji right now?” You took a lick of your ice cream, eyes never leaving Choso’s face. He was enjoying his own cone, although his gaze was trained on the two kids running up in front. “Man, that must’ve been rough.”

“Well, not too bad.” Choso wiped a smudge of chocolate off the corner of his lip. He didn’t quite get it, so he tried to use his tongue to lick it off. You snorted at his expression. “We’ve got an uncle - my dad’s brother - Sukuna, he’s not around much but he sends us money so financially, we’re okay. He’s a pretty busy, bigshot businessman anyway.”

“THE Ryomen Sukuna?” Your mouth fell open as you pictured the scowling, towering, tattooed man you had seen in newspapers. “Oh, wow, you just keep getting even more interesting, Choso.”

He shrugged, awkwardly smiling at the compliment. “Heh, not really. I didn’t even know we were related until like after our grandfather died. Then he showed up. He’s like the family black sheep or something, but Sukuna’s pretty okay.”

After Yuji and Megumi had finally gotten bored of the rink they had ran up to the two of you and immediately pestered Choso (mostly Yuji, Megumi just sort of tagged along) to get them food because they were going to die from hunger apparently. Choso had turned to you, with that eager puppy dog look and asked if you wanted to stay, ice cream would be his treat? Who were you to turn him down?

So that’s how you all ended up in front of the toy store now, as Yuji dragged Megumi inside while you and Choso just sort of lingered around the front, poking through the products, getting to know each other better and wistfully remarking on the joys of lost childhood.

(He was such a gentleman - offering to throw the cup your ice cream was in for you, opening the door and even - gasp - helping you remove the straps from your skates.)

“Pretty okay? He looks terrifying from his pictures,” you laugh. “I guess there’s a reason they call his business Malevolent Shrine though.”

“Don’t even get me started on-”

“Choso! Choso! Check these out!”

The two younger boys burst through the racks, Yuji grinning and Megumi not quite scowling as they held up two matching wolf plushies, one white and the other black. The Divine Dogs line of toys, if you remembered correctly. They were pretty cute, you had to admit.

“Oh hey, you two are back.” Choso took a quick look at the plushies and raised his eyebrows. “Do you want them or something?”

“Nope! I think you should get them!”

You nearly spat.

“…what? And…why?”

“So you can match with my new sibling?”

“Sibling?!” Poor Choso looks confused.

“Sibling-in-law,” Megumi corrects blankly, and points at you.

At once the two of you suddenly found the floor really interesting. My, my, who knew the cracks in the tiles would make such beautiful patterns. Hmm, a speck on your shoe as well.

“But I think that's for after marriage,” Megumi continues like absolutely nothing happened.

Yuji frowns, then lights up again before shoving the plushies towards Choso. “Then you gotta marry them quick, Choso, before anyone else does! Maybe you could get matching tattoos or something, after the plushies! You guys were so cute skating around together, like a real coo-ple!”

“Couple,” Megumi corrected.

“We’re not-!”

“Um, what-?”

“Hey, can I be best man at the wedding?” Yuji waved the plushy at your face.

Choso wanted the floor to swallow him up. You decide to save him and yourself.

“…it’s too early for marriage,” You begin before Choso’s panic instincts kick in.

“I’m so sorry! I apologize on their behalf, it must make you uncomfortable! Yuji, Megumi, don’t ever say that, we just met and we’re just hanging out like friends-”

“Hey, let me finish!” You lightly dig your elbow into his side, the corner of your lip tugging up. “It’s too early for marriage but I wouldn’t say no to a date, if you asked.”

Choso bough the plushies after he finished fainting.

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild romance AU -

Buggy makes his own explosives, which doesn't sound all that important until you sit back and think of the ramifications and knowledge required for that. Buggy is damn good with chemistry, math, physics, and I bet he was the brain to Shanks's brawn on the Oro Jackson; he'd probably have been all over Crocus whenever he could to learn more about anything and everything.

Crocodile and Mihaw don't really put the two together, given that they see Buggy primarily as an idiot and coward. It's when an epidemic spreads on the island that some odd things click into place-

Buggy has forgone the big costume, is in comfy and sturdy clothes. His face is painted minimally, hair tied into a tight bun, bandana on, and he's working side by side with the medical professionals. He's elbows deep in checking vitals, organizing charts, and even synthesizing medications. More members are sick than not, and they go under a near-quarantine lock down to handle the illness. Between working in the medical tents and taking care of his people, Buggy has also had a hand in organizing for resources to be sent and delivered.

Neither Croc nor Hawk had even considered some of the balls Buggy has gotten rolling. They both have very strong immune systems, so they rarely face or think of illness or sickness as something to prepare for or to account for, but this just exploded one day seemingly without warning, and the clown had a plan in motion by eevening.

It's at this point that they begin to wonder if maybe there's something more to their Chairman than they first thought...

((Bonus points, they catch Buggy coming back from a long shift at the medtent, sent off by the other's to get some rest, so he's just at that sweet spot of tired enough to lose filter. They ask about the medicines, and Buggy goes on a mini infodump about chemicals, hormones, enzymes, antioxidants and antibiotics, mentions that he and a few others already have a few batches baking, and sleepily chuckles about how "the simpler ones seem to work well so far, thank goodness. I was worried... *yawn* that I'd have to dip into my supplies for my testosterone... *falls asleep at the table*.

Croc just becomes the Spiderman meme of "TRANS???" when Buggy wakes up))

I LOVE this is an understatement, this is so good!!! I love Competent!Buggy so much!!! Why can't the clown be a fucking genius while being clown-failure babygirl he is?

Buggy having a plan by evening is because he has so much anxiety, I mean, look at the poor clown! It's always the things that he didn't think of that happens that gets him in trouble. But this, he can do this. I also love the headcanon, that Buggy learn a lot of things from Crocus, so he has this in the bag!

It would be funny if Buggy could be fine in a really bad pandemics, but the flu and whatever the happened near Laugh-Tale is his biggest sickness problems. What am I saying, back to this cool ask!

Buggy being competent because he doesn't want his crew to die or get really ill, not because he needs them to work, but because he wants them healthy and happy. Buggy forgoing the pillow onesie for something better, and not taking that much time on his makeup is so good, that just shows how he priorities his Nakama before himself is so cute! I have a headcanon that Buggy has a least a Field Medic degree or a Nurse one. Mihawk and Crocodile watching at the sidelines is what I see them doing, because like the clown's being competent and they see there's not much they can do in this.

Yes, on Buggy rambling on and on about things he does, I want Buggy to infodump so hard. Like really really hard, Buggy could go on and on about things that interests him for a while.

Buggy is every gender and nothing at all to me, and the spiderman meme with Crocodile is the only one pointing at Buggy while Buggy is confused and sleepy, while Mihawk is just there on the sidelines. Is really funny to me.

[killxio]

dinner and dessert | e. yaeger

word count: 1,150 [4 min 10 sec read] | ✪ content warning: porn w a plot, medium-slow burn (?), p in v sex, semi-self aware cringe writer, missionary, creaming, creampie

eren x black!latina!reader / afrolatina!reader

✭ eren appreciating his sweet lil’ wife

your girl ever put down a plate of food so good you just have to take her soul? eren knows what that’s like.

he had that happen today, when he walked in after a long day of work to a plate of hot honey tenders with a side of mac and cheese and hand squeezed lemonade.

his beautiful wife, y/n, having just wiped her hands on her apron smiled when she caught his gaze.

“welcome home papi. yo cocinado para ti.”

he’s learning spanish but didn’t bother to listen to the second part, completely zoned out with his focus on her lightly glossed brown lips moving, smiling at him.

“‘rennie? i have a hot meal infront of you and you’re just staring at me?”

“‘cause i can’t tell what’s sexier. you or that plate of food.”

she bursts into the most beautiful giggles he’s ever heard and he can’t help but return the smile she’s beaming. everyday he comes home and is reminded to just how good of a catch he made, how stunning and amazing his wife truly is.

and so, over some RnB, she and eren sit for dinner. she has her legs to her chest in the dining room chair, pedicured toes and anklet resting comfortably. she waits, satisfied at the sight of her husband filling his stomach, until he’s ready to eat her up too.

——

“the only thing i can feed you that’s better than that food is this dick, even then it still might not compare.” he compliments in between neck kisses, you playfully swat him away and cower away into the bed. eren has since taken his shirt off and changed into a pair of shorts, you two deciding on movie and a glass of wine for yourself.

a glass of wine that you're close to spilling if he doesn't lighten up on the smothering.

"eren jaeger! these are white sheets! compartas y sientate!" you scold, still giggling, swatting at his bicep.

eren scoffs at your tone and moves lower on your neck, from the spot that makes you giggle to the one that makes you moan. and you'll be damned if you break your favorite wine glass.

"eren. let me- ahh- let me put down the glass. or i'll have you buy me twelve." he takes the glass, sitting it down on the nightstand himself while his other hand pulls you down the bed a little bit. he's leaning over you, dragging his kisses from your lower neck to your shoulder blades while his hands travel under your satin pajama shirt. his kisses are sloppy and you can hear the smack of his lips everytime he comes up to go elsewhere.

"thank you, my love, for the food." he says, finally using his lips for things other than trying to suck your skin off. he pulls up your shirt to reveal your breasts, nipples hard and at attention for him.

"mmm," you purr out at the sensation of his tounge dragging over your nipples, licking and sucking passionately. your hand goes up to his sloppily done bun, gently scratching at the back of his neck in a silent praise. through his own light moans, his green eyes focus on yours. the eye contact drives you crazy, he keeps it no matter what he’s doing, switching from kisses to licks or sucking.

“reeeeenn. ren bebe please,” you plead, beginning to grind your hips onto his thigh.

“you want something, princess?”

“yeah. you.” you flash him a smile that makes his dick throb, clearly feeling the wine with that smooth response.

it triggered something in him, if he wasn’t on a mission to break your pussy in before he was now.

in an instant, he’s between your thighs and ravaging at you. you can’t tell if that’s his spit or your pre running down your slit— probably a mix of both, but he digs in like you didn’t just feed him one of the best meals of his life. his tongue switches between moving your bud in circles, and placing deep kisses up and down your pussy. if there was a way to give a pussy hickies, yours would be littered with them.

his shoulders are flexing under the dimmed lighting of the moon and the tv long forgotten, drowned out by your moans. years of eating you out has perfected his science to a t, so needless to say the sucking sounds he’s coerced from your dripping cunt are beyond sinful.

“i don’t think you’ll ever know how fucking hard your pretty sounds make me.”

“mmmmm.. s-show me instead?” you ask rhetorically, rolling your hips into his face.

he pulls away to sit up, tugging off his black boxers to reveal his cock, standing hard at your attention. you spread your legs to allow him space between, and eagerly stroke him after he’s lined himself up with your entrance. the precum coating his dick gathers around your manicured fingers and the web between your thumb and pointer with each pump. he stops your movements and while he pushes himself into your cunt, he licks it all straight off, circling his tongue around your wedding ring. both sensations make you cry out.

and while he starts off slow, his pace never gets too fast but it’s still rough, making sure he hits your g-spot with every thrust and dragging the apparent vein of his cock along your walls. the one that splits in two from the middle to the left of his shaft that you’ve dragged your tongue up and down so many times.

“papi.. oh s-shit please..”

the feeling leaves your hands scrambling to ground you, and eren can’t help but find it adorable how you loose it no matter how many times he fucks you.

“calm down princess. you’re too tight, don’t end this too quick now. relax.” he commands, his hips stuttering slightly.

“c-cannn’t ren, hhhhn,” you voice over the wet squelch of eren driving his cock in, knocking into your walls harshly, and slowwwwly back out.

plop, slap, plop, slap, as the squelching sound of him entering you and then the rough slam of his hips once he was almost all the way in interchange. soon, your eyes rolled back as you barely mentioned something about cumming at your husband.

“cmon baby, cum for me.”

your orgasm sent your back flying up off the mattress, arching you towards him. the sensation of you contracting around him while you creamed and cried out sent him over the edge,

eren’s letting the most desperate groans out right into your ear as he empties his cock in you. the load spurting quickly then oozing from his tip as he slows his thrusts to a shop, eyes screwed shut while he holds your hips down on his dick.

all is still as you catch your breaths until,

“now roll over and arch for me princess.”

[hyukakisses]

-emo txt dating an age regressor!

pairing: ot5 txt x reader

plot: separate headcanons of txt dating an age regressor

warnings: (this was a vv old request i got asked to re write on this account), english is NOT my first language, this is a SFW one shot. fluff, cg! txt & ag! reader

soobin:

• soobin who’s always patient and making sure his tone was gentle with you, knowing how scared of loud noises you were ):

• soobin never letting you do anything by yourself, from tying your shoes to mouth feeding you

• soobin always bringing you your comfort plushie <3 knowing how anxious you get once you’re in public

• soobin who knew exactly what to do/say to comfort you after a long day of work, rubbing your back in circles using the pet name ‘bun’ he had for you in attempt of calming down your cries

beomgyu:

• beomgyu who always held onto your hand everywhere you both went, insisting you’ll get lost without him “don’t let go pup beomie has to make sure you’re safe at all times”

• beomgyu who would let you play with his dimple, you babbling about how cute it looked. gentle poking your fingers on his cheeks

• beomgyu who always gifted you teddy bears, even though he whines about how you already have him ): he just can’t say no to you wanting more plushies

• beomgyu who would always put on your favorite animes/cartoons enjoying the gasps and ooo’s you’d make pointing at the tv screen

huening kai:

• huening kai who would stop everything he was doing the moment you got sick, his care giving instincts kicking in as soon as you complain about feeling sicky :( he hated seeing you in pain

• huening kai who would cradle you to his chest, you in fetus position as you weep about how hard college is to him

• huening kai who would always catch under the bed for any ‘monsters’. the boy was pretty fearless never really expressing any emotional distress when it came to scary situations and you liked that about him

• huening kai who would buy you coloring books <3 hanging up the colored pages on the fridge proud of his little baby :(

taehyun:

• taehyun who learned to have more patience for you; often reminding you to eat and not to run around the house since you were such a ditz

• taehyun who would bounce you on his thigh as he did arm lifts <3 basking in your addicting giggles and gasps as you ramble about whatever hyperfixation you had for the month

• taehyun who use his strength for you 24/7. carrying you in bridal style to your bed, lifting you in the air so you could reach for the cookie jar all by yourself. and opening it afterwards of course

• taehyun who wouldn’t hesitate punishing you with no kisses or cuddles if you were being a brat ): as much as he loved you he wanted to make sure you always knew your place around him.

yeonjun:

• yeonjun who would tuck you to bed, reading you a goodnight story in a attempt of luring you to sleep <3 kissing your face goodnight once your eyes fluttered closed

• yeonjun who would dress you up, and tie pretty ribbons in your hair <3 pressing light like feather kisses on your knuckles once he was done

• yeonjun who would play dolls with you ): not wanting you to be lonely, he’d always set up tea parties with all your stuffies present just for you both <3

• yeonjun who would melt at your drawings you’d make for him when he was away at work, kissing you repeatedly as the male head rubbed you as a thank you ):

[avonne-writes]

Happy birthday week, dear! I hope you have a wonderful and joyous week 😊

All of those prompts were just adorable and I had such a hard time choosing just one!

So of these three, maybe pick your favourite?SWAY, TUCK, TILT

Thank you so much, dear! 🥰 I decided to write this in my HS AU.

[ SWAY ]  sender pulls receiver into a slow dance in the living room / kitchen / bedroom

Gale smooths a hand down the front of his white shirt, then tugs his trousers a little higher up to make sure they sit right on his hips. He put some calming music on to ease his nerves but a part of him remains jittery because he knows Georgia and Neil are going to take photos of him and Bucky downstairs. He really doesn’t want to pose, he sucks at it.

Staring at his reflection in his closet door mirror, he sighs and ties his long hair up in a neat bun. He can’t believe it's prom already. His last high school dance. A sad, melancholic feeling aches in his chest when he thinks about it, but there’s some excitement behind it too. Soon, he won't have to depend on anyone or to fulfill their expectations - he’ll be able to do whatever he wants and take his life in whichever direction he chooses. He’ll be free.

He glances at the black tux draped over his bed. His mom bought it for him. His mom. She asked Gale to spend a Saturday with her and they went to the mall where they ended up buying it. Then she took him home - back to Bucky's place - gave him an awkward hug and asked him to send her a picture if he decided to wear it. Gale spent the rest of that evening crying in his room. He still wants to cry whenever he looks at it. But he wants to wear it nevertheless. He's used to the pain of knowing what parental love is but never getting enough of it. You treasure what you can.

He reaches for the jacket, but before he could put it on, the door of his room creaks open. He doesn’t even have to look to know that it's Bucky - he’s the only one who never knocks unless he’s locked out. He whistles when he catches sight of Gale and grins at him in the mirror. Gale gives him a small, amused smile and slips his jacket on.

"Well, hello there." Bucky purrs at him and wraps his arms around his waist.

Gale turns around in his embrace and raises his eyebrows at him. "General Kenobi!"

As expected, Bucky guffaws like an idiot at the joke. He always does when Gale quotes one of his dumb memes back at him.

"You look gorgeous." He says once he stops laughing. His eyes glittering half-moons, squinting at Gale in joy.

"Hm-m." Gale hums and drops his gaze to the floor.

There’s a beat of silence, then Bucky drops a kiss to the corner of his mouth as if to say, come on, don't be sad, let’s have fun. Gale turns his head to press their lips together properly, and by the time he pulls away, they’re both smiling. He doesn’t want Bucky to prod at him to say what's wrong, so he looks for a distraction, and his eyes land on the ends of Bucky’s tie hanging undone over his chest.

"Do you need a hand?" He asks, tugging on the silky fabric.

Bucky rubs the back of his head. "Yeah. I didn’t wanna ask Mom. God, can you even imagine?"

Gale makes a contemplative sound and starts working on the knot. He learnt it from his grandpa when he was still alive. He used to spend long weeks every summer with the old man. But Bucky, of course, never had much male influence in his life, and Gale doesn’t think he was ever super close to his grandparents, so it shouldn't be a surprise that he still hasn't learned how to do this.

"You could have asked Neil." Gale says as he adjusts the knot until it sits perfectly on Bucky’s collar.

Bucky doesn’t reply anything to that, which is odd enough from him that Gale looks up. Bucky's sad puppy eyes stare back at him for a moment before Bucky blinks whatever emotion he felt away and holds up a hand.

"May I have this dance?"

Gale crosses his arms and gives him an unimpressed look. He has a good guess what the hell that silence meant. Bucky's feeling clingy again. That’s why he came to Gale and not to Neil, isn't, that's why he’s right here flirting when they're literally about to leave to do this the whole night. But it makes sense if Gale looks at it from Bucky's paranoid eyes - another milestone gone, another step closer to their dreaded college decisions and the separation Bucky fears.

Gale thinks about calling him out on it. He considers giving in to the tinge of annoyance he feels, but he lets it go. Exhales it through a small smile. Tonight is for fun and love, not fights.

He takes the hand offered, and finds himself being spun immediately. It makes him laugh.

"What are you doing?"

Bucky grins at him and tugs him close, swaying with him in a clumsy slow dance through the room to the music coming from Gale’s phone. He squeezes Gale’s waist with his right hand. "Warming up. We'll have to make an impression on the dance floor, baby."

"You can go make an impression with Curt while I hang out with the rest of the guys."

"I can’t dance with Curt, he knows he’s gonna be Prom King and won't shut up about it."

"Always such a jealous boy, Bucky." Gale tuts and surprises Bucky by pushing back and spinning him in turn. It makes Bucky grin so wide that Gale can barely see the blues of his eyes.

"I'm not jealous." Bucky chuckles and loops both of Gale's arms around his neck to hold him even closer. They rock side to side together. It feels nice enough that Gale wishes they did it more often. "I made a deal with him. If he wins, he’ll adopt you. Then I can call you princess and you can’t protest."

For a moment, Gale just looks at Bucky and feels a rush of fondness bubble through his veins at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Then he bursts into a laugh. "All right." He finds himself nodding despite his better judgment. "I'll be your princess tonight."

"Yeah?" Bucky's smile wavers in his surprise, as if he thought he'd only tease and flirt, not that Gale would go along with it. But Gale feels good now. The nervousness is gone. He feels free.

He tips his head up to rub his nose to Bucky's. "For one night." He smirks and kisses Bucky's mouth.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Just- I’m tired of Steve having to have someone baby him and pull him to the side when the kids are being jerks or everyone is. (Robin also can be a jerk sometimes) but also when you’re mentally unstable sometimes everything seems like it’s coming at you for no reason. As much as I love the aus where someone brings him under their wing and snatches them until others learn how to behave I just want Steve to snap all on his own. To put his foot down, to get mean back when the kids are being assholes. Get into fights with Dustin over little shit but make up for it later. Though what could be his last straw is someone snapping at him and calling him bullshit and that he hasn’t changed at all. Just having him packing his shit, because there is no reason for him to stay in Hawkins. Him and Eddie aren’t a thing, and just have him disappear. For a long time. He’s not mentally ok, he hasn’t thought it through but the second he finds himself in a possibly even smaller town then Hawkins, talking to a therapist, and working his way up to getting a decent job, and doing classes? Well he’s doing a lot better then what he had been in Hawkins and he’s sort of accepted this life. Where he doesn’t have to be reminded of the upside down every day. The government hush money helps, but he doesn’t touch it because he wants to save it for something big. He gets a decent pay check every-month that goes straight into his bank account and he’s being smart about this. Just him growing more confident, growing his hair out. It’s down to his chin, and his clothes style? Is all over the place. He mixes and matches with how he feels. He wears his normally bright colored sweaters and polos but sometimes he has a grunge day. Wearing something that reminds him of Robin. Wearing a coat that goes all the way down his body and he feels unstoppable. Some days he wears glasses that are circle framed, with a button down shirt that tucks in his pants. Hair down in honor of max and eleven. And so on and on what he hadn’t expected was to fall in love with this specific Ozzy shirt. This 1984 bark at the moon tshirt that is sort of styles like a baseball t with blue sleeves. Of course he has other band t’s he wears but this one is his favorite.

So when it’s unavoidable that he has to go back to Hawkins, to go help his parents move it it’s no shock that someone sees Steve Harrington and the rumor train goes flying. Him with his brighter smile, hair pulled up in a bun, wearing skinny jeans, his favorite Ozzy shirt, with a ring that someone got him from work for his birthday, and nails painted white. A strange color to want your nails to be. His parents are annoyed as they realize he hasn’t been living here for years. Just him carrying everything out, doing the hard work. He has a tattooed demo bat that goes up his spine covering his scars and one wing protectively wraps itself around his side to cover any scarring. His neck has a few chains on it, all given to him as a joke for the bark at the moon shirt but ended up sticking because he pulled them off. Not him noticing the small crowd of people gathering across the street watching him out of shock. He doesn’t notice them until he hears a loud yelp when he pulls his shirt off revealing his body and catching the face plant of one Eddie Munson.

[krypticcafe]

Hi! I love your writing sm!!! Could I request how the boys + könig would react to a reader with curly hair? (We’re talking tight, kinky coily curls)

COD:MWII Boys w/a curly-haired partner

rating: PG-13

character(s): GN!Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, König, Hound

warning(s): none

a/n: aw thank you! And I love this request!! I'm not someone with curly, kinky hair, but I hear a lot about how they're super underrepresented. Even I'm tired of the "brushed his hand through your hair" or the "y/n with a messy bun/straight hair" bc PLEASSEE, my hair is a rat's nest, this would not work 💀 Anyways, I hope I did you justice and lmk if I got anything wrong!!

Gaz

Let's be honest, it's nothing new to him. He's experienced with coily, kinky hair, whether it be himself or his family or a friend.

I actually like to think he experimented with longer hairstyles before cutting it for military.

He gets you the most out of all of them, honestly. Knows exactly what you mean when you need a certain product or talk about maintenance, doesn't belittle you when you get upset over your hair, and helps a lot, too.

He doesn't have to do as much maintenance, so he doesn't use too much product, but sometimes he'll eye yours and make a note to try some for himself.

Since you and Gaz can trust each other, you sometimes have nights where you help style each other, just to spend some quality time.

Also yes, you guys have matching bonnets, it was actually his idea. You guys take so many pics together, too.

Gaz will notice if your hair looks healthier or fresher, and while he always thinks your curls are beautiful, he'll make extra compliments so that you know that he pays attention.

Oh, and if you do something special with it? He's all over you, all like, "What's the special occasion? Or am I just lucky today?"

Price

Your hair was one of the many reasons Price had noticed you so much, particularly because the military didn't really allow room for soldiers to do much with their hair and most have to gel it down if necessary.

When you tell him about the amount of care that goes into it, he starts thinking that his facial hair routine isn't so bad after all.

Once you get together, he starts looking into the product you need to get.

Unfortunately, he will have a bit of a hard time, so it's probably best if you show him the ropes for stuff like oils for protective styles, specific tools you use, etc. Otherwise, he'll be wandering around the aisle for a while. Please.

Sometimes, there'll be days where both of you guys take up the bathroom and go through your routines together, it's a pretty good way for him to learn your process and for you to learn his. There's a mutual respect.

Realistically, I don't think you would let either party take over for each other. At least, not for a long time.

If you put on a real nice outfit and let your natural hair out, oh this man will be on his knees, so use that information wisely.

Soap

Ooo, he's obsessed, I'm telling ya!!

Definitely gets stunned at how much it takes for you to take care of those curls, but not surprised that it's so difficult.

He does kinda wonder how you deal with it if you're someone that's on the battlefield.

You definitely had to tell him off for toying with it once, and he has stopped, but it's taking every inch of him to keep his ADHD ass from mindlessly twirling one between his fingers whenever you guys cuddle. But he isn't gonna do it! Unless you let him, then he loves how the texture feels.

You won't admit it, but sometimes you only let him touch it because of how happy it makes him, and you know he's being as respectful as possible.

He'll always be your #1 hype man too! Loves it when you experiment!!

You've definitely caught him wearing your bonnet multiple times, too.

One time, you decided to tease him by guiding him to help you detangle your hair, and frustration was absolutely worth it.

He got so pouty afterward when he had to give up, but you let him know he did a good job trying.

Ghost

He doesn't mean to be rude but he's definitely like "Can't be that bad."

And then you show him your grocery list.

It is that bad.

He gets frustrated and just buys one of everything, walking out of the store with like a dozen bags. He memorizes the ones you pick so there's that at least.

Don't mind him, he's just a bit blunt because he'll then ask, "Why don't you just cut/gel it?". Just explain it, and he'll respect your choice, though it intimidates him a little.

At one point, you're actually the one that lets him feel your hair, so he knows what it's like. He would never touch it unless invited, he's got too much self-control. People also become too intimidated by him to try to touch your hair too, so that's a plus.

It oddly soothes him, he likes how the texture feels on his fingers and especially when it's softer than usual.

One time, you used your own hand to help guide his through your hair, and oh man, was he flustered. Mans was glitching out for a few seconds.

Roach

He thinks your curls are so cute,

Like he literally can't stop watching you because of how they move when you walk.

On occasions where you let him touch it, you'll find that whenever you both are close to each other and really deep in an activity or conversation, he'll absent-mindedly roll a curl between his fingers.

His hands are good for many things, signing, fighting, and other fun stuff. Styling your hair is included!

One of his favorite things to do is help you find and try new styles with your hair. Roach loves looking up and researching about your hair type and what you can do with it, he finds it all super interesting!

Often buys you clips, beads, or whatever he thinks is pretty so you can try it on!

Loves to kiss your head because of how your hair tickles his face a little. He's been tempted to just bury his face in the back of your neck just to plant a bunch of kisses on more than one occasion.

On days where you put extra care into your curls, he's absolutely showing you off to everyone! He wants others to know how hard you worked to look so damn good!! (Gary says it's a full-time job, really)

König

Expect to find him staring all starstruck a lot.

Like a lot.

When you tell him it's your natural hair, he's surprised, he thought you just did a lot of work to make your curls so coily.

He once asked (very) politely if he could touch your hair, and because he was (extremely) nice about it, you let him.

Only for him to panic when the velcro from his glove got caught and he apologized a dozen times over. Afterwards, he treated you like porcelain, keeping his hands straight at his sides around you and acting like a spooked animal.

It got to a point where you had to confront him and tell him it was an honest mistake, and he didn't have to apologize which made him apologize more.

On the other hand, König enjoys watching you do your hair, just sitting there quietly with the occasional question. Sometimes, he helps comb your hair, but that's the most he'll let himself do since he doesn't want to mess things up.

Really loves how your products smell.

While he thinks you look amazing no matter what, he likes it best when you go natural.

Hound

Knows a lot more than you expected. They aren't well-versed, but they know more than the average person when it comes to the deal with kinky hair.

They'll go out with you on shopping trips and often help you pick out scents, one that you like but one that isn't too sensitive for their nose, it's something you didn't expect them to enjoy so much.

You can trust her to always have stuff on hand for you if you live separately or in different quarters. Oils, creams, custards, moisturizers, a hair pick (all from your fave brands, of course), she's got you.

He surprises you again when you come home one day, way too tired to do your routine, so he offers to do it for you.

If this was a test, they passed!! They even knew how to brush your hair the right way not to damage it and had already refilled some of your stock.

After that, you often find him helping on wash days when you're far too exhausted, as his way of pampering you. His favorite thing is doing your edges.

Her scary dog privileges also help ward off weirdos trying to touch your hair, and much like Soap, she hypes you up regardless if it's a frizzy day or a special occasion.

Expect them to be mildly addicted to the way your hair smells, it's literally one of their comforts because of how much it reminds them of you.