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#a little relief goes such a long way
evelyn-art-05 · 5 months
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forever grateful to the exam proctor who, not only let me step out for as long as I needed during the exam, but also sent me a message to check on me when I came back (for context it was an online zoom supervised test) AND continuously sent me encouraging and understanding messages whenever she noticed I was especially struggling
like,,, yeah, it might not seem like much, some could even say that she was distracting me or whatever, but the relief that I felt just from knowing someone, anyone, was looking out for me even when they had no reason to, was immense
she kept an eye on me for the whole test, and when I was done and I asked her if I could leave, she said that she was proud of me for making it the whole way through, and that I did a good job. I genuinely hope that she has a fantastic rest of her life because even though that was one of the worst tests I've ever taken, she made it so much more bearable
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slugandthorn · 9 months
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The coolest gender thing in the 2009 Japanese video game persona 3 100% how hard they coded shinjiro as the dead mom
#.txt#i got soooo mad in the car driving home thinking about how his drug addiction is essentially the classic anime heart condition.#in that the only side effect of the suppressants is that they will kill him. like?#i realized for the longest time i had assumed the chest pain and sweating came from the drugs but thats. castor. obviously.#it doesnt affect his mood or his awareness its like a mood stabilizer pain relief pill?#its so odd that hes framed as like. being addicted to illegal street drugs. BY THE NARRATIVE.#when its more like hes on the most insane experimental medication that they wont even test on like. rats.#also im not fact checking any of this before posting. so i might be lying about things.#idk if it was all of strega that had trouble controlling their personas but like. chidori was because of the Experimentation.#and shinjis just like. mentally ill coded. in a bad way 😭#The inability to regulate a mood/stimuli to the point where he can be unsafe to himself or others.#broad ass symptom of disorders that are not treated well. its also interesting that its not brought on by a specific event.#like the childhood fire is there. but you have akihiko right there to directly compare it to. and hes arguably more effected by it all.#and he seems to be coping well 10+ years on like some coping mechanisms are kind of weird (protein) but nothing super out of the ordinary.#so the problem is really the october 4th incident which was just a pure honest to god accident.#the fact that it gets covered up as a car accident does feel like the best like. emotional equivalent.#because it being shinji being unable to control his persona his true representation of himself and it resulting in death is sooooo bleak#and it weighs on him for 2+ years of being suicidal and unhoused until finally he goes through with his suicide by martyrdom.#i lost the plot a little bit on the gender situation with the vague allusions to fraility when story convenient#acting as dorm den mother and cooking and sewing long hair jacket sillhouette reading like a dress#was referring to that before mental illness took over. woman under the influencing this anime boy.#long way of saying i think he should have a over the shoulder ponytail when hes older. and he should have a mood disorder.
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illmoraineakoi · 1 year
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Everyone out here giving Hollow cute moth partners, or pretty mantises or bees or whatnot.
Fuck that, where's the AU where Hollow falls in love with a massive feral Wyrm?
#*Long Sigh* I guess I'll have to Do It Myself then#Hollow Knight#Yall are sleeping on this and it's criminal#It's such a funny idea#Tiny quiet and kind Hollow seeing a massive Wyrm just fucking up another Higher Being and going like-#''Oh no she's hot.''#and then like ''whAT DID I JUST THINK?!''#And she's just like...''wtf is this tiny little toothpick doing staring at me? you ain't food gtfo''#Hollow's got the Wyrm Genes that make him think Wyrms are Sexy and he's CONFUSED#But he tries to court her anyway because he's caught the Stupid For Her sickness#And she's annoyed for soooo looong because he won't leave her alone and his attempts at courting her are pathetically laughable.#Until one day she realizes -- ''Oh fUCK I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS IDIOT''#Obligatory 'antagonist tries to hurt/kill Hollow and Wyrm Lady goes absolutely BERSERK on their ass.' idea#But destroying them kills her and Hollow has to watch her die bc Rule of Angst#(He can't heal her. He lost the ability to Focus from containing the Radiance.)#(But he remembers what the King did and tries to desperately get her to do that too. It doesn't seem like it works...)#(But he refuses to leave her body bc he can't bear to loose her so he's there when she violently claws her way out the side of it)#(She collapses-bloody and exhausted-into his arms and greets him with the derisive nickname for him that's turned into an affectionate one)#(And he laughs while weeping tears of void. he laughs in relief and gratitude and love)
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allinllachuteruteru · 11 months
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Duolingo is NOT what it used to be.
“Duolingo is ‘sunsetting the development of the Welsh course’ (and many others)”.
I’ve used Duolingo since 2013. It used to be about genuinely learning languages and preserving endangered ones. It used to have a vibrant community and forum where users were listened to. It used to have volunteers that dedicated countless hours and even years to making the best courses they could while also trying to explain extremely nuanced and complex grammar in simple terms.
In the past two years it feels like Von Ahn let the money talk instead of focusing on the original goal.
No one truly had a humongous problem with the subscription tier for SuperDuolingo. We understood it: if you can afford to pay, help keep Duolingo free for those who couldn’t.
It started when the company went public. Volunteers were leaving courses they created because they warned of differing longterm goals compared to Duolingo’s as a company; not long after it was announced that the incubator (how volunteers were able to make courses in the first place) would be shut down. A year goes by and the forums—the voice of the users and the way people were able to share tips and explanations—is discontinued. A year or two later, Duolingo gets a completely new makeover—the Tree is gone and you don’t control what lesson you start with. With the disappearance of the Tree, all grammar notes and explanations for courses not in the Big 8 (consisting of the courses made before the incubator like Spanish/French/German/etc. and of the most popular courses like Japanese/Korean/Chinese/etc.) are removed with it. Were you learning Vietnamese and have no idea how honorifics work without the grammar notes? Shit outta luck bud. Were you learning Polish and have absolutely no clue how one of the declensions newly thrown at you functions? Suck it up. In a Reddit AMA, Von Ahn claims that the new design resulted in more users utilizing the app/site. How he claims that statistic? By counting how many people log into their Duolingo account, as if an entire app renovation wouldn’t cause an uptick in numbers to even see what the fuck just happened to the courses.
Von Ahn announces next in a Reddit AMA that no more language courses will be added from what there already is available. His reasoning? No one uses the unpopular language courses — along with how Duolingo will now be doing upkeep with the courses already in place. And here I am, currently looking on the Duolingo website how there are 1.8 million active learners for Irish, 284 thousand active learners for Navajo, and even 934 thousand active learners for fucking High Valyrian. But yea, no one uses them. Not like the entire Navajo Nation population is 399k members or anything, or like 1.8 million people isn’t 36% of the entire population of Ireland or anything.
And now this. What happened to the upkeep of current courses? Oh, Von Ahn only meant the popular ones that already have infinite resources. Got it. Duolingo used to be a serious foundational resource for languages with little resources while also adding the relief of gamification.
It pisses me off. It really does. This was not what Duolingo started out as. And yea, maybe I shouldn’t get invested in a dingy little app. But as someone who spent most of her adolescence immersed in language learning to the point where it was literally keeping me alive at one point, to the point where languages felt like my only friend as a tween, and to the point where friendships on the Duolingo forums with likeminded individuals my age and other enthusiasts who even sent me books in other languages for free because they wanted people to learn it, the evolution of Duolingo hits a bitter nerve within me.
~End rant.
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gojorgeous · 8 months
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“heatwaves”
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pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k
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Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 
 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 
“Yes… Thank you.” 
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 
“Take care.” 
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 
“N-no–” 
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 
“‘M following your scent, baby.” 
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 
“You on birth control, baby?” 
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…” 
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
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leaderwonim · 2 months
Text
❀﹐𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖
pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis: in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.
genre: angst, exes to lovers + strangers to lovers (ynhoon are soulmates your honor!!) fluff
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“You are the most immature person I have ever met!” You shout, “I should’ve never married you in the first place!”
“Finally, something we can both agree on.” Sunghoon seethes, and you just know the taxi driver is uncomfortable by the way he’s awkwardly looking in the car mirror.
The both of you crossed your arms stubbornly, huffing like little children who just threw a tantrum.
The only reason why you and Sunghoon were getting a divorce in the first place was because he was so busy at his office, inheriting the CEO position from his father just months earlier.
You felt lonely, and it really didn’t help that Sunghoon didn’t give you any reassurance because he was too tired.
“Aish, why is this red light taking so long?” Sunghoon angrily mumbles underneath his breath.
“Well maybe it’s your negative energy.”
“Can you be mature once in your life?” Sunghoon snaps back.
The taxi driver, very annoyed with the both of you, continues driving when the light turns green.
Then all of a sudden, a car rams through the intersection, crashing directly into the taxi.
You scream, and Sunghoon instantly puts his arms around your frame, shielding you.
Then, all goes black.
For a second, you could see the day that you and Sunghoon got married.
It was a Sunday, at the beautiful church nearby Sunghoon’s parents house, and you were wearing what Sunghoon called the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It was plain white, but long and so beautifully designed that it didn’t need any other colors.
When you arrived at the altar, Sunghoon had bursted into tears. Some of his friends, Jake, who had traveled all the way from Australia to attend, patted the boy on back as comfort.
That day was nonetheless the happiest day of your life. You don’t know if Sunghoon feels the same, and looking back, it feels like such a shame that you’re throwing it all down the drain.
❀﹐
BLEEP. BLEEP.
Your body jolts awake, head practically killing you with the amount of ache it produced as you tried to sit up.
“Patient is up!” The nurse says before walking into your room with a tray. “Good morning, are you feeling okay?”
You raise your hands to touch your head, which was bandaged by some soft tissue material.
“Where am I?” You say, looking around the room. You spot a unknown man groggily getting up, and for a second, you can’t help but notice how handsome he was.
That was besides the point, though.
“You’re in the hospital.” The nurse says, smiling softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to this?”
“I.. I don’t remember anything, actually.”
The nurse still smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s alright lovebug, it seems as though you two have lost your memories.”
“Us two?” You question.
“Yes.” She points to the guy on the other bed right next to you who just looked like he woke up from death. He too looked badly injured like you, having a broken hand and bandage around his head. “Park Sunghoon-ssi was in the same car as you and got injured as well.”
Park Sunghoon. Why did that name sound so familiar?
“Well since you're both awake," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything Sunghoon-ssi?”
Sunghoon shook his head slowly. "No... I don't remember anything."
The nurse nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It's not uncommon for victims to lose their memories after a traumatic accident. Memory loss can be temporary. Just focus on resting for now.”
The nurse leaves the room, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.
“She said we were in the same car together,” you say slowly. “But I really can’t remember what you are to me.”
Sunghoon shrugs. “Me either. All I remember vividly is my parents. You must’ve been an acquaintance of mine, then.”
You nod, stretching your limbs. “You got more injured than me.”
He lets out an airy chuckle, lifting his broken arm which was in a cast into the air. “Yep, broken arm.”
You want to remember so badly what had happened leading up to all of this. What were you doing? Where were you going, and why were you with this Park Sunghoon guy in the first place?
“What did you get for breakfast?”
Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you, and you slowly look down at the tray in front of your bed.
“Uh, the nurse got me tiramisu and oatmeal.”
“Tiramisu?” Sunghoon’s mood automatically brightens up. “Can we please switch sweets? I really love tiramisu.”
You laugh at his childlike behavior, but nod anyway. “I’ll bring it to you Sunghoon, wait.”
You don’t know why, but it feels so right saying his name. Sunghoon must’ve felt the same way, because he swore his mouth went dry at you calling out his name.
You carefully make your way out your hospital bed, making sure not to accidentally detach any monitors that were attached to you. Grabbing the tiramisu cup, you make your way over to Sunghoon, who’s already shaking in excitement.
Then you make your way back, opening the lid of your oatmeal bowl.
“I may not know what happened in the accident,” Sunghoon says. “But I know this tiramisu is so fucking good.”
You shake your head, laughing at his words. “Yah Sunghoon, you think we were best friends before all of this?”
“Maybe.” He mutters, the mascarpone cheese of the tiramisu leaving a mark on the side of his lips.
“Well our humor is alike.” You say. “Would explain why we were in the same car together. Maybe we were going out to lunch.”
The rest of the day was spent with Sunghoon and you cracking jokes then and there, the awkwardness of the two of you being strangers quickly faded.
❀﹐
The next day, you were given tiramisu once again while Sunghoon was given cookies.
You descended from your bed, once again, and gave the tiramisu cup to Sunghoon while you grabbed his bag of cookies.
“You know what’s funny?” You say, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie.
“What?” He says, although it’s muffled from the amount of tiramisu he’s stuffed into his mouth.
“Yah, you gotta stop doing that, it’s gross.”
Sunghoon sticks his tongue out at you, which makes you giggle.
“We’re both Parks, isn’t that funny?”
“Huh,” Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a brief second. “Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N. That is funny.”
Maybe both of your humors are broken because you hit your head too hard during the crash, but even though you were at the hospital, you’re glad you have someone like Sunghoon to keep you company.
“Do you want to watch the stars with me tonight at the balcony?” You ask the boy, who nods softly.
“I’d love to, actually.”
And that’s what the two of you did. By the time it hit 10pm, you two tiptoed out to the balcony, making sure to not let any of the night nurses see you.
“Whoaaa, it’s beautiful.” Sunghoon says, letting his broken arm lean against the railing. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
You smile, leaning your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder.
“Sunghoon.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not sure what we were before the accident,” you stop for a second. “But I’m glad we knew each other.”
Sunghoon turns his head to look down at your face, his expression morphed into a genuine smile. “I’m glad we knew each other too Y/N.”
That night, you slept the most compared to the other nights at the hospital. In your dreams, you see Sunghoon—only instead of being at the hospital bed right beside you, he’s in the kitchen, wearing a black suit.
“You look nice today.”
“Thank you baby.” Sunghoon leans down to give you a kiss on the lips. “Is that tiramisu?”
You nod, your eyes full of love. “Of course, you’ve been working so hard so I decided to make your favorite.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, letting the two of you swing back and forth slowly. “Thank you my love, I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.”
You woke up in a cold sweat, the dream feeling all too real.
“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon says, and you swore your heart almost leaped out of your chest, not expecting the brunette boy to be awake.
“It’s 2am, why are you even awake?” You say croakily, hands coming to rub your tired eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Hey, I had a really weird dream just now.”
“Me too.” You say, “you were in it.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t further question it. “You were a lawyer in my dream, you just graduated from Seoul University. We bought a house, and you told me you wanted to continue with your career.”
At least his dream was somewhat normal, you think. I can’t just tell him I dreamt of us being together and being all lovey dovey. He’d be thrown into a coma!
“Ah, mine was similar.”
Nice save Y/N.
Sunghoon suddenly gets up from his bed, deciding to sit at the dining table the nurses had brought out for the two of you yesterday night.
“Come sit with me.”
You slowly creep out of your bed, sitting on the empty seat next to Sunghoon.
Suddenly, you’re hit with a sudden pounding headache.
“You’re the worst, Sunghoon!” You scream on the top of your lungs, “I hate you! I hate you!”
“Stop screaming!” He grabs your arms gently, eyes directly looking into yours. “Y/N-ah, stop it.”
“So I’m Y/N to you now?” Your voice breaks. “No more baby or love? Am I just another person to you Sunghoon?”
“Of course not, why would you say that?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep inhale. “Let’s just talk about this calmly, okay?”
“What’s there to talk about? You are never home, you’re always cooped up in your office! We might as well get a divorce!”
Sunghoon’s hold on your shoulder makes you snap out of your daze.
“Hey, you okay?” He says concernedly, “you were breathing heavily.”
“What?” You gasp. “Yeah—yeah, I’m okay. I just think I had a flashback.”
“Really? What was it?”
You don’t want to tell Sunghoon that it was the two of you fighting. Why did you even mention divorcing in the flashback? Were you and Sunghoon something more than just friends?
“Just the crash.” You say. You want to tell him the truth, you really do, but you’re not sure if these were hallucinations from how hard your head was hit during the trauma or if they were actual flashbacks.
“Well, I’m here.” Sunghoon whispers reassuringly. “I’ll always be here. We survived a car crash together anyway, we’re kinda bonded to each other.”
You laugh, smacking him on his shoulder softly. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
❀﹐
“Do you remember what your passion was before all of this?” Sunghoon asks, peeling his orange with his injured hand.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, “l think I really would’ve liked becoming a mother. I love kids, the thought of them makes me happy.”
“I think you would be a great mother.” Sunghoon says quietly. “Even though we don’t know each other much, I can tell you’re loving.”
You look down at your lap, trying to suppress the bright smile forming at the corner of your lips.
“Thanks Hoonie.”
“Hoonie?”
Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry! Did I make you uncomfortable? I should’ve not—”
“It’s okay Y/N,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I like it.”
You can’t help but laugh along with him. “Okay.”
The next few days go by quickly, with you and Sunghoon already warming up to each other.
You were both comfortable enough to speak your thoughts freely around one another, no matter how silly or ridiculous some of them seemed.
When the nurses brought you two breakfast, Sunghoon almost dropped his fork in shock.
“They gave me tiramisu.” He says, eyes glistening with joy. “They finally gave me tiramisu.”
“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” You snicker jokingly. “You’ve been eating my tiramisu this entire week.”
He turns around to look at your tray, which had a bag of snickerdoodle cookies on it.
With shaking limbs, he makes his way over, handing the tiramisu cup to you and swapping it with your cookies.
“I thought you hated snickerdoodle cookies, Hoon?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.
“I do.” He admits. “But you’ve given me your tiramisu all week, I wanted you to have mine this time.”
Your heart swells at that, and you point your spoon at him accusingly.
“Yah, is this because you want my chocolate pudding at dinner?” You joke.
“Pffft, what? Nooo.” He quickly defends himself. “But if you’re willing to share—”
“Shut up Park Sunghoon!”
“Yes ma’am!”
❀﹐
You don’t know why, but you’re starting to feel giddy whenever you talk with Sunghoon.
Your palms does this thing where it sweats profusely, and your tongue feels like dried sandpaper.
There’s no way you like Park Sunghoon, right? You’ve barely known the guy for two weeks, so why was the heart racing at the thought of him?
“I’ve convinced the nurses to get us two bottles of coca cola,” Sunghoon says, practically jumping up and down as he entered the room.
“Really? Out of all the drinks you could’ve persuaded them to get us, you got us coke.”
“Don’t diss Coca Cola like that!” Sunghoon says, crossing his arms.
Just like Sunghoon had said, the nurse approaches the two of you an hour later, 2 bottles of coca cola in her hands. She hands one to Sunghoon, then to you.
"Enjoy." She says, smile reaching her eyes.
Sunghoon's eyes light up when he opens the bottle and takes a sip. "Ah, for some reason, this feels so nostalgic."
A little memory pops up in his head, one of him playing at the park with his mom and younger sister.
"Sunghoon-oppa! Mom says she brought us coca cola!" The young girl, Yeji, says. "C'mon! Come with me!"
The young Park Sunghoon lets his younger sister take his hand, running towards their mom who was on the other side of the park.
"What's wrong Sunghoon-ssi?" You ask, noticing how his thick eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on the bottle had tightened.
"Huh?"
"You zoned out for a bit."
He chuckles nervously, glancing around the room. "Sorry, I think I just had a flashback." He says. "Park Yeji."
"Who?"
"My younger sister." He explains. "I could see her clearly. I wonder where she is right now."
You too wondered where your family was. Maybe they were too busy to come visit you. You could briefly remember having a younger brother. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.
"Cheers." He says, mood changing quickly. His canines shined brightly as he smiled, making him look all too gorgeous in your eyes. "To the car crash, for bringing me and Park Y/N together."
You giggle, raising your bottle in the air. "Cheers to the car crash, for bonding me with this weird guy named Sunghoon."
"Yah!"
❀﹐
"Is it weird?"
"Hm?"
It's 11pm, and you and Sunghoon face each other as you're both laying on opposite ends of the room.
"That we've known each other for only a few weeks and I already feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime?"
You smile at his words, shaking your head. "No, I feel the same way Hoonie."
"Would it be stupid to say out loud how much I want to kiss you right now?"
Your mouth almost drops at his boldness, but you quickly shake your head.
Sunghoon takes your silence as approval, sitting up to come over to your side.
He brushes the hair away from your face, leaning in to close the gap between your lips.
When the both of you pull away, you automatically lean in again, the feel of his lips on yours felt so right.
"I love you Sunghoon." You say as you cup his cheeks. "I don't want to fight anymore."
"I know," he whispers. "I love you. Cause even though we were both going down, we were going down together."
"I hate you." You say, a smile playing on your face. "I hate you for being the only person who I can't stay mad at."
"And I love you," he says. "For being there for me, always."
"Sunghoon."
"Hm?"
"I love you."
He smiles down at you, uninjured hand coming to hold yours. "I love you too."
❀﹐
"What?" You say flabbergasted.
The next morning was the date of both yours and Sunghoon's discharge, and both your families decided to come visit.
"You two were married." Your father explains, a bewildered expression on his face. "How could you not know? Was the Park Y/N not obvious?"
"I thought that was just my last name!" You say, defending yourself.
"Your last name is Yang, noona." Your little brother speaks up. It was Jungwon, the same boy you kept seeing in your flashbacks, only this time, his face looks more clear and matured. "It was before you married Sunghoon-hyung."
"You're telling me we got married and divorced?" Sunghoon says, stuttering over his own words.
"Yes son," Sunghoon's mother explains. "Well, not quite exactly. We don't know why you guys wanted to divorce, you kind of shut yourselves out when you were arguing. You didn't officially divorce yet, you got into an accident on the way to court."
That made so much sense now. The flashbacks of arguments between you and Sunghoon, the makeups after the arguments, the cute moments, everything. It started to all click in your head.
"You still share houses and everything, the lawyers had to put your case on hold because you were both hospitalized." Jungwon says. "We were here to pick you up separately, in case you weren't comfortable staying with each other."
"It's fine." You and Sunghoon both say at the same time.
"Are you sure honey?" Sunghoon's mom asks concernedly.
"Yes mom, I'm sure."
The drive home was awkward, you both drove in different cars but to the home you had bought before the accident happened.
"Noona," Jungwon calls out to you. Your parents are still in the car, looking at the scene in front of them.
"Yes Jungwon?"
"Listen, I may not know a lot about love," he says, "but I know what you and Sunghoon-hyung have is real. I could still see somewhere in his eyes that he remembers parts of you and he still loves you whether or not his memories came back or not. I could tell you love him too. I don't know why the two of you decided to divorce but I know you called me crying hysterically because of it. I just think you two needed to talk it out, without the lawyers, without the paperwork. You two are the two most stubborn people I know, but also the two most loving people I know, you wouldn't just leave each other like that."
You want to cry at your younger brother's words, tears already leaking from your eyes. "Thank you Won."
You reach your arms out to hug him, a hug that he instantly melts into. "I love you noona."
"I love you too."
❀﹐
"This isn't what we expected, huh?" Sunghoon says, leaning his head on the marble island in the middle of your kitchen. "This whole time I thought you were my best friend, turns out you were my soon to be ex-wife."
You laugh quietly at the irony of the whole situation. "Whatever we were in the past is in the past Hoon."
He nods. "I can't believe we were going to divorce."
"I can't believe it either."
"You know what my mom told me in the car?" Sunghoon sits up straight to look at you. "The reason I have a broken arm and you don't was because during the crash, I put my arms around yours to protect you. Isn't that funny? Even though we hated each other at that moment, my first instinct was to protect you."
You stay still at that, his words sinking into your brain.
"It's like the universe wanted us to be together." You say quietly.
"Hey Y/N?"
You turn around to face Sunghoon. "Yeah?"
"I'm glad I married you."
Even though you and Sunghoon aren't sure where you stand in terms of relationship, all you know is that you love him, and that is enough for the both of you.
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kiyinian · 6 months
Text
Part two
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
Ex-husband Simon who: Always does the month's grocery shopping with you, always coming up with lame excuses to spend more time with you. Always encourages your children to eat a lot, sometimes even more than they should, just to make sure the food runs out quickly and that you call him to help with the groceries.
Ex-husband Simon who: Never stopped wearing his wedding ring, even though you no longer wore yours. For him, you would always be his wife, no matter what, even if you refused to wear your wedding ring again.
Ex-husband Simon who: Is very attentive to the children, always picks them up from school when you can't, who takes them out every weekend, and on vacation, takes them on trips. And of course, always thinking about spending more time with you.
Ex-husband Simon who: Knows that divorce means divorce, but can't stop giving you Valentine's Day presents every year, even if you reject being his Valentine once again.
Ex-husband Simon who: Is always available when you need him, if something has broken in the house? Don't hesitate to call him. Need to buy something? Ask him and he'll sort it out. Want a shoulder to cry on? He'll be there for you.
Ex-husband Simon who: Always pays for things for you, especially when you go out with the children. He refuses to let you pay a single penny when he's around, even though he knows you have enough money to pay for whatever you want. Just as he won't stop sending you money, even if you work.
Ex-husband Simon who: Even though you live in separate houses, he always goes to the house where you and the children are living, the usual excuse being that he was passing by, so he decided to go and see the children. And you, too.
Ex-husband Simon who: Knows it's wrong to manipulate children like this, but he induces the little ones to dislike any other man you introduce to them. No matter how good your new romantic interest is, Simon can't stand the idea of you having someone else by your side. And the children think so too.
Ex-husband Simon who: Is happy when he hears that you haven't met anyone since you split up, that no other man had caught your eye. And he could only feel the relief and hope that this brought him.
Ex-husband Simon who: Tries to win you over again, always giving you presents, calling you to dinner, being the exemplary husband you needed. All the effort that was thrown away every time you denied him, he left with a heavy heart, but destined to try as many times as necessary. There was no other person who was like you, you were the only one for him.
Ex-husband Simon who: Almost felt his heart drop out of his mouth when he saw you all dressed up for your son's second birthday, you'd only prepared a small party, no big deal. But the sight of you was still breathtaking, even more so when you smiled so sweetly. He didn't take his eyes off you once that evening.
Ex-husband Simon who: Didn't hesitate to accept when you asked to spend the night with him, after the children were asleep. And you would have time alone after a long time apart.
Ex-husband Simon who: Made love to you as if it were the last time. He caressed every part of your body, made you feel butterflies in your stomach with every kiss he gave you. He pounded into you like a maniac, as if it were his last day on earth, telling you he loved you, calling you the nicknames he knew would make you weak in the knees. He made you see stars that night.
Ex-husband Simon who: Felt heartbroken when you said that everything that had happened was a mistake, and that it was a moment of weakness. It shouldn't have happened, that's what you said, but it all seemed so right to him.
Ex-husband Simon who: Didn't understand why you were distancing yourself from him after the night you shared together, that he felt he had done something wrong to you. Who didn't understand your nervousness, the way you stuttered and fidgeted next to him, he just thought he'd done something wrong and you were angry.
Ex-husband Simon who: Had no idea that you were actually nervous not because of some action of his, but because you didn't know how to break the news to him that you were pregnant, that your evening had resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. You were carrying twins.
Ex-husband Simon who: Almost fainted when you broke the news to him, he didn't know whether to cry with relief or joy. But in any case, he was sure that he would go through hell to get you back, he was going to do everything possible and impossible to make his family what it was before.
6K notes · View notes
reshinless · 7 days
Note
Can you write kinich x reader smut
──── i w'na ride?!
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𝜗𝜚 synopsis. whatever position he wants >_o
𝜗𝜚 pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader(?) see this however u want cuz in som of the bullets i use boobs or discreetly mention chests (kinich is also a lowk perv)
𝜗𝜚 director's notice. i'll explain why he'd like this trust me, !!nsfw content ahead!!
inspired by the moments where he kept hitting the pose where his hands behind his head plus the one scene where he sat in a tree with his hands behind his back (or maybe i'm imagining things.)
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kinich who reluctantly visits the beach(es) plus hot springs in the toyac springs region because mualani says you both need it, seeing as how much you both work beside each other, you'll definitely need a nice bath! especially the rumors of the heated conditions the springs seem to excrete.
kinich who no matter how long you and him have met each other, he'll never get used to seeing you in a bathing suit. even when you both were still kids fooling around on the beach with mualani. the atmosphere back then has almost never changed, walking along the sandy coast, feeling each little particle fall over your toes, the sun roughly about to set, the scenery was a sight to behold!
now that you both were older.. he would be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you, your way of fighting, your appearance, how well you compliment him, it was almost like a corrupt addiction. even ajaw mentions how cheesy it is each time he sees kinich looking at you, whether it be lust or love in his green eyes.
mualani was overjoyed to hear that you've never gone out to swim, especially in the temperature she's usually in. kinich decides to tag along, totally not because he definitely wouldn't mind seeing you in different swimsuits/trunks.
kinich who you didn't mind letting him stay outside the changing room while you put on different suits while mualani actually help you choose (unlike someone who just kept ogling his eyes at you)
mualani who chose something that revealed more than appropriate portion of your skin (which was a lot, and imagine this similar to the one lumine wore!!), kinich who couldn't stop eyeing you up and down, ajaw teasing with digital sunglasses over his face; "y'know sunglasses help cover up what you're tryna look at!"
cue kinich smacking bro away again :pray:
you only got more attractive in his eyes. watching how you walk up to him, holding out a bottle of sunscreen to him, asking if he'd put some on your back before you'd go surfing on mualani's shark.
kinich didn't wanna admit but he was a little more than just turned on while spreading the lotion over your shoulders and back down to your back, his calloused hands feeling you up and down..
kinich who felt a little guilty but couldn't help but always slowly let his view dip down to your ass. shit he could already imagine what it'd look like without that last piece of clothing. too bad he can't rip it off you right here and now.
kinich who ran his hands around your chest, your sides, every curve that you wouldn't suspect him from.. he could already feel the tent in his pants rise.
kinich who couldn't resist looking at your pretty body through the blurriness of the water, almost forgetting to swim back up from being a little more than distracted. only coming back up after mualani mentions he's the winner of holding their breath underwater challenge.
a sigh of relief.. or maybe pleasure rather remembering yesterday on how close he got to be to you, palming his erection with hurriedness, thinking of how soft you felt under his fingers, only a thin layer of sunscreen that wouldn't make it weird between you both, kinich catches himself moan your name quietly in the changing room before he goes back out to you and mualani for day two of your summer break of 5 days in total.
sitting under the comfortable shade of an umbrella he brought, putting sunglasses on to rest for a bit before going in the water, or at least that is what it looks like. in all real reality, he was taking sneaky glances at you from less than appropriate angles, he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.
kinich could barely hold himself back for the next 2 days, wherein you all toured around mualani's hometown (for the sixtieth time, but then again it never gets old seeing a different culture every now and then!)
on the last day of your adventures with mualani, she offers for you both to finally bask in the warmth of the hot springs! the natural wonder of her home! kinich was reluctant at first, but agreed seeing how you were just oh-so happy to oblige.
this time, mualani got you a different swimsuit, one muuuuuchhh more revealing this time. it's clear now that she knows kinich's little crush on you, and now she knew that you liked him back.
mualani who coincidentally forgot the milk, and silly snacks she baked earlier that morning, oh would you look at the time! i guess she has to go get them... kinich who lowkey panicks, he already is a little flustered from your new look (but manages to quickly cool himself down)
kinich who is gentle while letting you slowly dip your feet into the water, this wasn't his first time here but he knew it was yours, stepping into the water first while holding your palms softly.
you two finally both sit in the springs comfortably, right in front of him, talking about whatever you and mualani did while he sunbathed (under an umbrella). building sandcastles and such.
"ahhh... kinichhhh! you should've been there. i would've wanted you there at least, dunno about mualani-" it felt like almost immediately his trunks tightened.. maybe he got the wrong size?
oh but the sound of you verbally saying you needed him definitely is a huge turn on. well you didn't necessarily say 'need' but you definitely wanted him there, good enough.
kinich who already has you straddled on top of him, directly on his boner, fuck he could feel it already. his hands are already on your hips letting you grind over his erection, this felt better than he could've ever fantasized of!
kinich who lets you ride him, the water you both were already surrounded only made it sound all the more dirtier. it didn't help that the sly little smile on your face, all he could do was bury his face into an arm of his own, looking away from you.
kinich whose hands were in his hair, intertwining with every little strand, the flush on his face only worsened each time you bounced on it, he could barely make eye contact with you, not because he didn't want you.. ohh it was because he thinks if he did he'd come immediately!!
kinich who holds you close as his climax comes closer as well, holding you tight in his embrace, he could feel your warmth, your skin, your everything, all he could was quickly drift his calloused palms back down to your hips, making sure no drop of cum was waaaasssttteeedddd
you could see how good you made him feel, even with just a sneaky, yet lustful glance, yet plop plop plop is all you can hear echoing throughout the cave, your hands propped up on the wall as kinich pushed against your back, his grunts only getting louder, eager to please you. seeing how your eyebrows knotted
kinich who felt intoxicated as hell in your scent, almost breathless as his head fits into the empty slot right beside your collar, fire pooled down inside your abdomen as you slowly reached your peak, watching how beautifully your eyes rolled back, feeling warm semen shoot up in your stomach. holy shit were you a beauty to see.
the musky scent of sweat mixed with the warm water below you both, kinich could still feel you clench harshly on his cock, even after release, fixed & still processing what you both had just done.
kinich who brings you out the bath, wrapped in a towel, bridal style and all, before mualani can come back with the milk and snacks- "hey what is that white stuff mixed in the water- what did you two do?!"
kinich who holds your hand while you both stroll throughout the shops opened up at nighttime, the constellations in the sky connected like it was used to it, the fresh scent of grilled fish was clear in the air's aroma, filling everyone's noses, mualani couldn't just give all this fish just to you two anyway!
kinich who fully confessed his feelings to you, no sex no lust, just him wanting you to sense how much he's been longing for you, in hopes you'd reciprocate it. in which you did with open arms!
m: "aha! i knew it! you both finally told each other you like each other didn't you!!", k: "no need to shout.", y/n: "i suppose!"
mualani will stop teasing for now, and let you two be, just with each other as the stars reflect off the light you've shone into his life.
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kinda cringe might delete :100:
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dxxdhood · 2 months
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drains me slowly
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pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader
summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.
tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship
wc: 3.3k
a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.
No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse. 
Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.
He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.
But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.
That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.
But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?
And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.
So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.
“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”
“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”
“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”
“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”
It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”
You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”
And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”
The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?
Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.
You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.
Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.
“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”
Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”
He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.
He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.
But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth. 
What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.
Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.
Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.
Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.
“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”
He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”
His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.
“Hang-out.”
Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.
“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.
He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.
Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.
“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.
“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”
“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.
Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element. 
“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”
And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.
His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible. 
It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.
“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.
“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”
“Well, all you had to do was ask.”
And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.
“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.
“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”
“We do?”
“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”
“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.
“And why’s that?”
Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”
“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”
“You say that, but…”
“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”
Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”
“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”
No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”
Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”
And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.
It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible–  a big ask.
“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”
“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”
“When I get to feel.”
Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.
“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”
He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”
“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”
“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”
You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”
“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”
“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”
He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”
Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat. 
Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.
You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.
You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.
“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.
“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”
“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.
“Good, seems like you’re learning.”
You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.
He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.
While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.
Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”
Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.
“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.
You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”
“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.
He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.
“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s  powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.
“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.
“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”
At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs. 
“Not sure, umm, a little more–”
And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.
From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.
“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.
As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.
“Thank–”
You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up. 
2K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 10 months
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I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.
He’s selfish in giving and taking.
He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.
He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.
He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.
He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.
"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"
You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.
"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.
"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.
He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.
He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.
"Buck, you coming-?"
"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"
"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"
Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.
Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.
No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.
He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.
“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.
"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"
"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-
"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"
"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.
"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.
He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.
He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-
Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.
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luveline · 5 months
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Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!
ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k
cw reader has a concussion
Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 
You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 
He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 
“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 
Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 
“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 
He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 
“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 
Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 
You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 
“Hi Hotch.” 
“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 
“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”
“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 
“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 
Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 
“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 
“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 
JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 
He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 
You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 
She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 
“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 
Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 
You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 
Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 
“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 
JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   
Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 
JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 
He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 
You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 
You nod into your rubbing. 
“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 
“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 
“Do you need help?” 
“Not for the fruit.” 
“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 
“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 
He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 
“You could be a doctor.” 
“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 
“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 
“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 
You stare up at him. “You want to?” 
“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 
“My boyfriend might not like it.” 
Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 
“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 
You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 
That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.
You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 
“Sorry,” he murmurs. 
“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 
“Why not?” 
“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 
“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 
He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 
“Yes?” 
You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 
“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 
“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 
“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 
“Why?” 
“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 
You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 
Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 
“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 
“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 
“I’d like to go back.” 
“Home?” 
“For breakfast.” 
“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 
“What?” you ask. 
You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 
He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 
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yuuuhiii · 4 months
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≡ should we kiss ?
includes : asking bestfriend!tr boys for a kiss, fluff, suggestive, hinting for something more???
notes: haven’t posted in a while! I’ve have so many whips but I can’t finish them AGH!
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ken <𝟑
You’ve been hovering around Ken for hours. He said you guys would go check out that new fast food place that opened near his work. But he’s been tinkering with his bike ever since. You don’t know why you think of this and you don’t know why you tell him, but you do. You sigh for the millionth time and he smiles. “I’m almost done, I know you’re hungry.” He screws another bolt. “It’s not that.” He quirks a brow, “Then what is it?” You get up from your spot and plop down next to him, your hands resting on your knees. “Can I kiss you?” To his dismay, his cheeks redden every passing second so he turns away. “No!” He yells the tips of his ears and the nape of his neck flush red as well. “Jeez, you’d think since you’ve been raised in a brothel these things wouldn’t affect you.” You roll your eyes and he glances at you. Your lips are pulled in a pout and he can’t deny that they look so plump, so kissable. “Fine.” He mumbles, you hear him, but you tease him. “What was that?” You lean closer. “For fucks sake, I said fine.” He turns to you. He’s embarrassed but he looks cute like this. You lean in and place a peck on his lips, smiling against them. You pull away and smile widely again. “Can we go eat now?” “Y-Yea.”
takashi <𝟑
Takashi was your comfort person. In no way did you ever not feel safe around him or protected. He always attended to your needs and no matter how busy his schedule was, he always made time for you. As you walk into his studio, you’re rethinking everything all over again. However, when his eyes meet yours, your thoughts dissipate. At the sight of you, he immediately lightens up. He gets up quickly making his way towards you. “Hey you, I missed you.” He goes in for a hug, to which you gladly return. “I did too.” You smile and he gazes down at you with love . “Can you do me a favor?” You begin to blush and this interests him. “Of course, what is it.” His hands have drifted down, now clasped in yours, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. Maybe it was a little touchy for two best friends but neither of you minded it. “Can we kiss? I-I wanna practice, it’s been a while ya know?” You look down and he grins, it's a little unsettling. He seems amused and playful. “As long as you don’t kiss anyone else.” He whispers and when you’re about to question him, he kisses you. His lips are soft and he holds the nape of your neck with such gentleness. His lips move slow and agonizing against yours, leaving you wanting more. That’s when you feel his tongue prod at your lips making you jump back. “Takashi!” You squeal, red as a tomato. He laughs, swinging your intertwined hands, satisfied.
manjiro <𝟑
Now Manjiro has been your best friend for as long as you remember. Despite him going through a lot he had his moments where he’d be relaxed and not so monotone. Manjiro was a playful person at heart, you wanted to do something to bring it out. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him. See his face when you popped the question. The moment he sees you he sighs in relief. “Finally you’re here let’s go eat.” He moves to grab your hand and lead you out but you stop him. He turns around a little irked. “What?” He’s close to pouting. “Can I have a kiss?” You pucker your lips and he blinks. You didn’t even have enough time to register his lips on yours, the shock had you on autopilot. When he pulls away, you’re blushing. “You kissed me.” You say breathlessly. His brows furrow. “Yeah I was wondering when you’d finally ask me.” You’re still confused. However, he stands up straight, looking genuinely confused. “Are we not dating?” He blinks and your jaw drops. “D-Dating? You never asked me out? You never told me you liked me!” You flush and a small blush forms on his cheeks as well, more out of shame. “Shit, well I don’t know. Let’s go talk about this when we’re eating.” He rushes out, pulling you along with him. You both had a lot to talk about.
haruchiyo <𝟑
The line between best friends and something more was definitely thin for you and Haruchiyo. At least he’d make it thin. All of the time he’d make teasing remarks, and be touchy with you. You never questioned anything because you were comfortable with him. However, there was definitely something more. There had to be right? Why else does he stare at you with such admiration while you’re doing mundane tasks? You’re over at his house as he’s editing a YouTube video of his. You had just made him snacks and go to place them on his table. “Eat something, it’s been hours.” You swear you can see his eyes twinkle as he stares at you. Then your eyes glance at his lips, so pink and a little chapped. He notices your staring and blushes yet his brows rise. You bite your lip and break your gaze but he isn’t backing down. “Hey.” He calls out and you look at him again. Your mouth moves before you can think. “Can I kiss you?” He doesn’t hesitate with his answer. He pulls you towards him, straddling his lap. His hands rest on your waist as your lips connect, the both of you fitting like a perfect puzzle piece. Your hands embrace his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. It was a needy kiss like the both of you had been waiting for this moment. And maybe you both were.
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© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
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briefinquiries · 1 month
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Tyler Owens x Reader: You Look Like You Love Me
Request: "I wondered if you could do a Tyler Owens fic where it’s the end of the day and everyone’s exhausted from chasing all day and stuff. Readers just gotten out of the shower and is in her sleep dress, hair wet and decides to join all the storm chasers/ the team out by the bonfire so she throws one of Tyler’s flannels on, puts her boots on and goes to find Tyler and once she does there’s a slow song that comes on the speaker (I feel like they’d have music playing that the whole parking lot can hear) and it just ends with them slow dancing by the fire looking into each others eyes and talking about their future, JTyler just has this look on his face knowing he is going to marry this woman one day<3"
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: none
A/N: thanks for the request, this was such a cute idea / fun plot to write :) Enjoy!! 
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“You comin’?” Tyler asked, giving your hand a slight squeeze and nodding towards the group of people already clustered around the fire. 
You offered a small smile, which was about all you were capable of after the long day you’d had. 
“I’m really tired,” you explained. “Think I’m just gonna grab a shower then crash.”
You didn’t miss the look of disappointment that flashed across his face. But it was quickly replaced by a gentle nod. “Course, let me just grab our stuff, then I’ll head up.”
“No, you stay,” you encouraged him, nodding towards the group. “This is right up your alley, don’t miss out because I’m a tired slug.”  
Tyler tipped his head to the side affectionately. “You’re about the cutest tired slug I think I’ve ever seen,” he said in a tone that was far too serious for the context. 
You shook your head, lips tugging into a grin as you pulled your hand away from his to adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. “Shut up,” you mumbled adoringly before nodding towards the fire. “Look, they have music goin’. Why don’t you go slow dance with Boone or something?” 
“Yeah alright,” Tyler agreed, taking a step backwards. His tongue poked through his teeth in the same way that, even after almost two years together, still made your stomach flip. “I’ll be up in a little while.”
“Have fun,” you called before he turned and began walking towards where everyone else had gathered. 
Meanwhile, you had the pleasure of trudging up a flight of stairs to get to the room Tyler had booked for the night. After nearly eight hours of driving that day, the muscles in your legs felt wobbly as you made the ascent. But when you finally were able to climb into the room’s shower– the warm water rinsing off all the dirt and sweat you’d acquired for the day, you sighed out a breath of relief. 
Although you appreciated how good it felt, you didn’t waste time in the shower. Instead, you quickly lathered up your hair, rinsed it out, and scrubbed yourself clean before grabbing a towel from the rack and drying off. Before long, you had your wet hair combed out, pajamas on, and were crawling into the queen bed positioned in the center of the room. You climbed in with full intentions of passing out without a second thought. 
However, to your absolute dismay, that wasn't the case. Instead, you tossed and turned, almost nodding off– but then reaching for someone that wasn't there yet. Eyes snapping open, you sighed defeatedly. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have a hard time sleeping without Tyler. But with how exhausted you felt, you’d been hopeful. 
You laid there for about half an hour before giving up. You were just growing increasingly frustrated and knew that no amount of laying there without him was going to work. 
So instead, you climbed out of bed, grabbed Tyler’s flannel, which laid conveniently at the top of your bag and threw your boots back on. Your hair was still damp when you left the room. Luckily the June air was warm– even after the sun had gone down. As you climbed back down the stairs, noise from the fire and people gathered filled your ears. You heard music coming through a nearby speaker and the collective murmuring and laughter from each conversation blurring together in a loud hum. 
As you approached the crowd, it didn’t take long before you spotted Tyler and the rest of the crew. He was sitting back in a camp chair, dimples on full display as he laughed at something Lilly was saying in the chair next to him. Boone was crouched on the sand, knees tucked into his chest while he used a stick to poke at the fire. Dani was kicked back in an adirondack chair, sipping casually on a beer. Meanwhile, Dexter was nowhere to be seen– presumably already gone to bed for the night. 
Wrapping his flannel tighter yourself, you began weaving your way through the crowd of people and towards him. Tyler spotted you after only a moment, like his eyes were born to find you in a crowd. At first his gaze was worried, eyebrows knitting together in a look of concern. 
“There she is!” Boone announced your arrival like your own personal cheerleader. 
You offered a smile and mumbled a weak hello before heading right for Tyler. 
“Hey baby,” he said. He moved like he was going to get up, but before he could, you walked to his side and plopped yourself down across his knees. Instantly, his hand found your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck, nestling your face into the crook of his shoulder. 
“Everything okay?” he murmured, lips lingering along your hairline. He ran a hand up your back soothingly. 
You nodded, inhaling the scent of him. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
“Ah,” Tyler said, already knowing that what you really meant was, just couldn’t sleep without you. “We can head up, if you want. Let me grab my stuff.”
But you shook your head. Pulling away from him long enough to watch the scene around you. “No, it’s nice out here. Let’s stay a little longer.”
You felt his lips connect with your temple. “Whatever you want, baby.”
“Did you and Boone get to slow dance?” you asked, a hint of playfulness evident in your tone. 
Tyler snorted. “No, we hadn’t gotten the chance yet.”
“Shame,” you muttered groggily. “You’re such a good dancer.” 
“Well you know I’d much prefer to dance with you.”
“Hey,” Boone piped in. “Now see? I know y’all are the world’s cutest couple and all that bullshit. But that right there very much hurts my feelings, T.” 
You both laughed at his antics. 
“Sorry, Boone,” Tyler said. “You’ve got tough competition.”
“Aw, c’mon Boone,” Lilly said. “Don’t let them get to ya. Dani and I will dance with you– c’mon.” 
Together, the three of them got up and joined the crowd of people dancing, leaving you and Tyler alone. 
“Alright, Owens,” you said, mustering up the strength to climb off his lap. “Our turn. Show me what kind of dance moves you got.”
He let you drag him towards a quieter part of the lawn. Using one hand, Tyler gripped your waist and pulled you close. With the other, he cupped your hand to hold out from him. Gently, he began swaying you back and forth to the beat of the song. 
“I don’t know if you’ve ever told me who taught you to dance,” you observed. 
“My mom,” he replied softly. His green eyes sparkled– the same way they did anytime he talked about his mom. 
“I’d never wanted to go to any of the school dances– never had an interest. I was always workin’ the farm or out with friends. But in my junior year of high school, I was trying to impress this girl. Her name was Sally Wakefield– so, I bought us a coupla’ tickets to the prom without even asking her first.”
“What?” you laughed. 
“I know, I know–” he said. “I got the order a little backwards there. Anyway, I went to my mom and told her I had a date to the prom and that I had to learn how to dance before. So, we spent an entire weekend in the living room. She had me push all the furniture– the couch and table and all the chairs, to the side and make a little dance floor. She put her Elton John records on repeat and that's how I learned to dance.” 
“That’s really sweet,” you smiled, just imagining teenage-Tyler slow dancing in the living room with his mom. 
“Yeah, well it didn’t end so sweet. I asked Sally Wakefield to prom the next Monday at school and she laughed in my face,” he chuckled. “So all that hard work went right to waste.”
You scoffed. “Fuck Sally Wakefield.” 
“I actually ran into her at the market a few years back– she was really nice. She’s married, has a few kids now..”
“It was for cathartic effect, Tyler. But if you insist– fuck high-school version of Sally Wakefield.”
“Oh–” he nodded. “Right. Yeah, fuck high school Sally Wakefield.”
“Plus,” you added, melting a little inside as soon as your eyes connected with his. “I don’t think all that hard work went to waste. I, for one, really enjoy dancing with you.” 
His face beamed as he gazed down at you softly. “Remember that night we went line dancin’ when we were down in Austin?”
You let out a bubble of laughter as you leaned into his embrace. “Oh my God, and Boone slipped on the lemonade that lady spilled–”
Tyler chuckled. “Him and his beer went flyin’.”
“I swear I have never seen a human being hit the ground that hard,” you said through your laughter. 
“Me either–”
“Remember when we went to your cousin's wedding– and they had that live band and an entire dance floor and we were like… the only people using it? Everyone else just stayed at their tables.”
Tyler shook his head. “Still can’t believe that.”
“Yeah, I mean ninety-five degrees or not… if I go to a wedding, I’m dancing.”
“What about your wedding?” Tyler asked suddenly, gaze softening as he peered down at you. 
Something in your chest fluttered. It wasn’t the first time Tyler had mentioned weddings or marriage, but every time he did, it pleasantly reminded you that you two were in this for the long haul. 
“What about my wedding?” you said, trying to sound casual. 
“Will there be lots of dancing at your wedding?” 
You pulled back gently from Tyler’s embrace, just enough so that you could get a better look at him. You marveled at how handsome he really was– especially under the soft, flickering glow from the fire. 
“Of course there’ll be dancing– lots of it. I wouldn’t want all your mom’s hard work to go to waste now would I?”
Tyler’s swaying slowed as he took a moment to really study you. His gaze was soft and sweet and intimate all at once. Unable to help yourself, your face broke out into an even wider grin.
“What?” he wondered.
“Nothing,” you shook your head, biting your lip. “You’re just lookin’ at me like you love me. And that makes me smile.” 
Tyler beamed. “I love you so much– you know that, right?” 
Without even hesitating you nodded. “Course I do,” you replied, leaning your head against his chest and allowing him to tighten his hold on you. “I love you, too.”
For a few more minutes, the two of you swayed casually to the music. Tyler’s embrace was safe and warm and comforting, and the longer you danced like that, the more tired you became. 
“Think we’ll see anything tomorrow?” you yawned sleepily into his shirt. You felt his cheek rest on top of your head, nestling you into the crook of his neck.  
Tyler clicked his tongue above you. “I don’t think so. Dexter wasn’t tracking anything on the radar, but you never know.” 
“What if we just had a slow day tomorrow? We could just sleep in and hang out here for another day? I saw they had a pool out back– that’d keep Boone entertained.” 
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “I think we could make that work.” 
You smiled against his skin, eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Gradually, you began leaning more and more of your weight against him, until finally, he gave your back a gentle rub. 
“Let’s say you and I head up to the room, yeah?”
You nodded against him, too tired to reply. 
“There we go,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You leaned into his side, letting him guide the way. He called goodnight to everyone for you before practically carrying you up the flight of stairs towards the room. 
When you were finally inside, Tyler helped you climb into bed. You frowned when he didn’t immediately follow. Instead, you watched him head into the bathroom and close the door. 
With how tired you were– you were surprised you didn’t fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. But the longer you laid there without Tyler, the more awake you felt. 
After only a few short minutes, he emerged from the bathroom and crossed the room quietly. 
“You’re not asleep yet?” he asked, peeling back the covers and climbing into bed beside you. “Thought you’d be snorin’ by the time I came back.”
Without replying, you scooted across the bed until you were wrapped back up in his embrace. You felt arms wound around your waist, anchoring you to him. You smelled his aftershave and mouthwash as you nuzzled into his chest. You heard the sound of his heartbeat, even through the fabric of his T-shirt. His presence totally engulfed all of your senses– and you knew that was exactly how it should be. 
As you finally drifted off, all you knew was Tyler, Tyler, Tyler. 
And what a wonderful thing to know. 
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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months
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mean mouth
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foreword: and if I said Eddie liked when you talked a lil' mean to him. what then. n e ways. just a little exploration of his early-day sub tendencies. I generally write Eddie as older but since this takes place in some nebulous time before s4 u can think whatever u want +18. ‘unnamed freak’ is Jacob. punk band name was not thought of by me but isn’t it great <3
cw: gn!reader w/breasts + V, oral (R receiving), unprotected PiV, soft!dom(ish) R, Eddie subbing from the top 😎, gotta-be-quiet-when-we-fuck trope my beloved
wc: 3.7k
____
The first time it happens, it’s an accident.
Eddie’s a blur of motion in the little trailer kitchen, knocking against your knees where you’re propped up on the counter (not entirely helpful but, in his words, ‘much-needed eye candy for the chef’), closing cupboards with a bang and talking animatedly over the hiss of onions cooking.
Your boy is loud, always has been, and tonight is no different- he’s crowing and cackling, recounting a particularly genius foible that he’d orchestrated during last night’s campaign, wooden spoon dipping in and out of heated pots over the stove like some crazed frizzy-haired potions master. 
“And then.” He punctuates with a jab of the spoon towards you, a long drip of spaghetti sauce narrowly missing your leg- you flinch and squeak in alarm, but Eddie just grins wildly, eager to get to the punchline. “Red rolls a natural. Fucking. Twenty.” 
“Holy shit!” Your smile is wide, natural and easy for him- Eddie’s excitement is infectious. 
“I know!” Eddie spins back to the stove, plunking the wooden spoon back into the simmering sauce before opening the oven. Heat from the broiler rises in a mouth-watering cloud of herby smell, and Eddie reaches for the metal sheet of garlic bread, still talking. “Couldn’t fuckin’ believe it. And then I- shit!”
You don’t put the pieces together until Eddie’s spinning away from the open oven, whole body moving with the force of his hand being shaken in the air- he’d touched the roiling-hot metal with his bare hand.
“Oh, shit, babe-” Sliding from the counter, you nudge the oven door closed with a foot, reaching out to assess the damage- but Eddie’s a whirlwind, jumping up and down, swinging his injured hand around in jerky movements, howling in pain.
It’s kind of freaking you out, ‘cuz you can’t tell if he’s playing up or if he’s actually got a third-degree burn. The voice that comes out of you is commanding, one that you rarely use, firm and louder than his hollering. 
“Eddie, for fuck’s sake- stand up and let me see it.”
That seems to do the trick. Eddie’s eyes snap to you, pausing mid-hop, and you take advantage of his semi-stillness to snatch his wrist and drag him towards the sink. The water runs cool and you turn his palm over in both of yours, breathing a sigh of relief when the pink welt across the bridge of his hand doesn’t have any blisters.
“Under the water,” you instruct, pushing at his silver-link braceleted wrist until he gets the memo, letting the flow from the tap ease the burn.
Eddie hisses through his teeth, and then goes quiet for the first time in ages.
There’s a few moments of this strained silence as you watch his hand carefully, color leaching back into his palm until you notice Eddie’s looking at you sideways.
Your shoulders hunch in a bit, arms crossed over your chest as you take a step back, misinterpreting his look as wounded. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just-”
“Hey, whoa, no-” Eddie’s hand automatically reaches for you, dripping water on the floor until he remembers his injury with a wince and plunges it back under the tap. “You don’t have to apologize for that. At all. Um.”
His left hand, the uninjured one, braces against the linoleum, ringed knuckles creaking as he shifts his stance. He sounds uncomfortable, and you’re about to start apologizing again until he lifts his head, eyes twinkling- “You were so bossy. It was totally hot.”
A shocked laugh burbles out of you, unsure if he’s joking or not- when he shifts his weight again, your gaze flickers down to the zipper of his dark jeans- he’s fully hard. 
“Oh my god.” Split between amusement and mortification, adrenaline from seeing him get hurt fizzing through your veins, you laugh again- this time, sardonic, into your hands, shaking your head. “Jesus christ, Eddie.”
“Can’t help it.” He’s close to whining, hips pressing flush into the cabinet, partly to relieve the ache in his groin and partly to toy with you. “Goddamn. Sound so sexy when you tell me what to do-”
There’s a teatowel hanging from a nearby rack; you snatch it up and whip it at Eddie’s shoulder, playful and irritated as you snap, “Shut up.”
“Oh, yeah, just like that, baby-” Eddie’s fake sultry voice earns him another towel-whip, this time at his neck- he squawks, ducking to avoid another blow while still keeping his hand under the water.
“Ridiculous. You’re ridiculous,” you announce with finality, slinging the towel over your shoulder and turning on your heel. “I’m gonna get the burn cream. Try not to cum or die while I’m gone.”
His bright laughter follows you all the way down the hall.
___
The next time it happens, it’s sort-of on purpose.
Eddie’s glowing with a post-show rush- a local business convention meant Corroded Coffin got to play for a nearly-packed room. Nevermind the fact that their Bruce Springsteen cover was the one bringing in the most applause; Eddie’s always been able to feed off the energy of a crowd, and tonight was a riotous success.
The Hideout is loud but your boy is louder, as per usual. There’s sweat curling the baby hairs at his temples, bright spots of flushed pink in his cheeks from the round of whiskey you’d bought the band as a congrats. 
He’s making a toast to his laughing bandmates, to beautiful you, to any nearby drunk who will listen, proclaiming his lust for life with one boot on the well-worn table in noble pose.
“And to Bev, the best of us-” Eddie tips his half-empty glass towards the nearby bar, shouting over the din of the jukebox and lively chatter, “-may your sharp-tongued wit live on!”
Bev pauses service to flip him off, and Eddie collapses back into the comfort of your arm over the booth’s top, grinning when the band trio of Jeff, Gareth, and Jacob nearly fall out of their chairs with laughter.
It’s always hot to see Eddie in his element, and tonight’s not an exception. He turns to lean into you, looking down the slope of his pretty nose like he knows why you’re staring.
A charming wink precedes, “Come here often?” but his flirting is interrupted when Jeff gets up for another round and bumps the table- whiskey sloshes over the side of Eddie’s cup and coats his hand in stickiness. 
He swears viciously, yanking out his bandanna to wipe at the mess while you laugh over the rim of your own glass at him. “Real smooth, babe. Good thing you killed it on stage, otherwise I might not take you home.”
Eddie’s eyes light up, inhaling for another cheesy line to wow you with when his gaze flicks past you and his face falls. 
Across the table, Jacob mutters, “Oh, shit,” and Gareth glowers.
Following their eyelines, you look over your shoulder to see Nico Hawley, frontrunner of Hawkin’s own punk band (the Scumshots), enter through the front door in a cloud of cigarette smoke.
When you turn back to Eddie, he’s already twisting the damp bandanna around his rings. The usual softness of his doe-brown eyes are now flint-sharp, and with a rush of panic, you remember the last time Eddie and Nico ran into each other; the night had ended with you back at the trailer, holding a cold pack to Eddie’s split lip, which he’d received from engaging in what he referred to as “friendly fisticuffs”.
There was nothing friendly about the way Eddie stood, then, to his full height, dark and imposing with his big mane of hair and leather jacket. The other Corroded boys won’t start any shit themselves, but will absolutely back Eddie up (fearless leader, resident shit-starter, instigator extraordinaire). 
Time’s running out for you to get a handle on the situation, Eddie already moving to slide past you out of the booth when you snag his left jacket sleeve in a tight grip.
The first yank you give stops him in his tracks; the second, more intentional tug gets his face level with yours, Eddie’s hardened stare giving way to confusion as you pull him into your space. 
In that same authoritative tone, you pin Eddie in place with a fistful of leather and command, low, right in his ear to be heard above the bar noise, “Don’t. Sit down and be good.”
At first, you’re not sure it worked, because Eddie’s just staring at you- slightly slack-jawed, pretty pink o mouth as his gaze flickers to your lips, back up to lock in your gaze again.
And then, by some miracle, Eddie obeys. Like a well-trained, marvelously-behaved dog. He’s back in his seat with a jolt to the booth, hand curling around his whiskey again. 
Curls spill and shift around jacketed shoulders as he shoots the rest of the glass, adam’s apple bobbing, other hand slipping to cup your thigh hidden from view. “It’s not worth it,” he announces to the rest of the group, sounding strained, staring at the bottom of his empty glass, knuckles white with force.
Jake sighs, relieved, but Gareth scoffs, tipping the neck of his beer across the table to point, goading Eddie with  “Since when have you been the one to take orders?”
“Shut up,” Eddie shoots back, blood returning and redistributing enough from where it had all rushed south, enough to defend you and himself against his drunk bandmate. “We’re already on Hop’s shit list, asshole, can’t be catching any more charges for stupid fuckin’ bar fights.”
Nico had disappeared into the throng of people at the bar while your group has been arguing- probably for the best that he’s out of eyesight. Unperturbed by Gareth’s comment (he likes you fine, he’s just grumpy from the alcohol and itching for a fight), you sip your drink and give him a shameless wink. 
Underneath the tabletop, Eddie’s palm flattens over your jeans, fingers dipping to toy with the denim seam hugging the fatty plush part of your inner thigh. You shift your hips, subtly, feeling flush with heat and power. Just a couple of words and you have him eating out of your goddamn hand. 
Jeff returns, setting a handful of beers in the middle of the table. “Saw that shitstain Hawley at the bar. What’d I miss here?”
Gareth swoops in with accusatory explanation, seizing another bottle out of Jeff’s hands. “What you missed is Eddie’s balls on a leash-”
“Jealous you don’t have someone at home to tie you up, Emerson?” Eddie’s dig comes swiftly, lips quirked in a smile around the rim of his drink. 
There’s a raucous burst of laughter, Gareth’s curly mop of hair gets ruffled playfully, and everyone eases back into celebration, all while Eddie’s thumb edges closer and closer to the apex of your thighs.
___
The next time, though? Totally on purpose.
There’s a sliver of gold from the hallway light spilling under Eddie’s closed door, left on in case Jeff or Gareth needed to use the bathroom during the night. 
And despite the fact that two of his bandmates are passed out on the couch and floor just a short walk away, Eddie’s hands are exploring the length of your body under the sheets like he’s got plans to map you with his tongue. 
“We- ah- can’t.” Your whispering scold is interrupted with a sharp gasp when Eddie nips at your neck. “No fooling around. Not when we have guests.”
His left hand drips over the swell of your breast, squeezing and kneading, your nipples perking to attention (traitors) underneath the bra you haven’t yet had the chance to take off.
Eddie adopts your quiet tone as he speaks between kisses that trail further down your body, not outright ignoring your weak protests but not doing much to combat them, either. “Mmm. Got me so worked up. Been driving me crazy since the bar, y’know that? ‘S cruel, baby, can’t just talk mean and expect me not to act on it.”
“Wasn’t mean,” you counter, hands shifting automatically to wind through the soft locks of hair tickling at your stomach as Eddie continues his path downwards. “Didn’t wanna have to patch up a split lip. Had to make you behave somehow.”
The vibrating groan Eddie gives against the soft skin of your stomach tickles; when you squirm, shushing him again, his hands slide to your hips, pinning you in place. 
Nose to your navel, warm breath fanning across the strip of skin just above the band of your panties, Eddie sounds strung-out already, close to begging. “Please, baby. I’ll be good. Make it so good for you. I’ll be quiet-”
His head snaps up at your sudden gasping laugh, chin perched on your tummy as he scoffs. “What, you don’t think I can keep quiet?”
“Eddie Munson, you couldn’t be quiet to save your life.” Your hands migrate to his cheeks, squishing them together fondly as he grins around your touch, his thumbs working circles at your bare hips. 
“Ye of little faith.” In the dim light of the room, Eddie’s teeth are a flash of white before his mouth dips to press against the wet patch at your underwear.
“Fucking… shit-!” The expletives fly out harshly, only because you weren’t expecting the wet stripe of his tongue against your clothed folds. Head dropping back to the comfort of your pillow, you get one hand in Eddie’s hair again, the other finding its way to twist at the sheets.
You can feel his smile, equal parts smug and sympathetic as he coos saccharine to your inner thigh- “Now, now, angel. Gotta be quiet.”
Not willing to lose the fight, you focus on clamping your mouth shut, eyes closed in concentration- even as Eddie slides your underwear down and off, a quick flash of blue fabric before it’s swallowed by the floor’s darkness. Even as he seals his lips over your clit, sucking hard like he’s been deprived of your taste for too long.
When his tongue breaches your entrance, a soft gasp escapes, one that has your head turning sideways to grab some pillow with your teeth. 
Eddie brings the wetness from your entrance up again, spreading it over your pulsing clit, nerve endings fizzing bright and hot in your stomach from the attention.
On instinct, your right leg kicks out, jolting with the spasm of pleasure- Eddie’s quick, though, taking advantage of the movement to find a new hold at the back of your thigh; rings biting cold, he pushes until you bend for him, your knee now pressed towards your chest.
“Gonna make it so good for you.” Eddie’s mumbling pussy-drunk rambles into your cunt that’s now on display, dragging his nose through the slick that weeps out of you, all for him- “So wet for me, angel. Fuck’s sake. This all for me?”
As if he doesn’t know. The hand that isn’t busy holding you open trails up your thigh, middle finger teasing at your entrance before slipping inside, no resistance thanks to the river of slick that rushes to greet it.
There’s a soft squelching noise as Eddie adds a second, curling them up, stroking against that tender gummy spot that always skyrockets your pulse. 
The noise is almost enough to give you pause; feeling wild and flush with heat, your hand tightens in the crown of Eddie’s hair, eyes popping open as you prop yourself up on an elbow to give a strangled hiss of warning through your teeth.
Eddie senses your unease, pulls his fingers and mouth out and off (a travesty), softening the blow by giving a placating kiss to the top of your mound. “Shhh, sweetheart. S’okay. You hear that?”
Past the noise of nighttime crickets from the nearby cracked window, past the hum of the kitchen, you hear it as Eddie crawls back up- distant, tandem snores from the boys in the living room.
“They sleep like the dead. Like rocks,” Eddie promises, settling his weight into his hands planted on either side of your head, hair creating a curtain around your faces as he leans in. “So we can get our rocks off.”
“That was awful.” You kiss him anyways. He tastes like you, earthy and warm and wet, saliva mixed with your arousal as the kiss turns sloppy.
Eddie rocks his hips forwards, the friction from the fabric of his boxers making you both gasp into each other’s mouths. He’s achingly hard, cock leaking and smearing precum through the cotton; there’s a hurried, manic shift as you both work to strip the last pieces of clothing from yourselves, his boxers and your bra following your underwear from earlier into the dark of the room.
And then Eddie is sliding his cock through the folds of your pussy, slicking up the sizable length as much as he can before the tip nudges at your entrance; Eddie’s arms tremble with effort as yours wrap around his shoulders, soothing with a kiss to his cheek- “Lotta talk about keeping quiet, Munson. That’s all it was? Just talk?”
Now that his mouth isn’t intent on making you fall apart anymore, you’ve got some breathing room to tease. To be the one to work him up. Tucking a curly lock of hair behind his ear, your fingers trace adoringly over his temple before sliding to grip the back of his neck. “Gonna prove me wrong, hotshot?”
With this new proximity, you can see Eddie’s eyes- fixed intently on yours, black pupils nearly eclipsing the soft amber of his irises. He looks slightly feral, sweat sticking his bangs in place, lips parted, spots of pink staining his cheeks. 
As if he doesn’t trust himself to speak, Eddie’s near-silent as he slides himself in to the hilt, jaw dropping as the warmth from your walls encompasses him completely.
The chained guitar pick around his neck tickles between the valley of your breasts. He pants, chest heaving, not daring to move yet; your breath stutters. You can feel him in your throat.
“So big,” you murmur, an honest reaction but one that has Eddie’s brows drawing together, a little whine escaping as his hips jerk forward, reflexive to your words.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck.” 
Eddie’s voice, strained though it may be, is on its way to regular volume. At the back of his neck, your hand flexes, a warning as he begins to rock steadily into your tight heat. 
“Gotta be good.” Biting back your own groan, you sling your leg over his waist. At this angle, you can press your heel to the dip of his lower back. “Be good and quiet for me and I’ll let you come in my p-”
His hips snap forward, audibly, subsequent wet noise obscene, filling the room. Eddie moans into the curve of your neck before your sentence is even fully formed- “Jesus, baby. Oh my god. Can’t say stuff like that, gonna come too quick-”
His cock fits along the contours of your cunt like you were made for him, ridged tip dragging against that same sensitive spot of your front wall with each pull and thrust.
Eddie’s forehead thunks into yours as he rolls it back and forth, mindlessly. All the tease has melted out of his voice: it’s been replaced with a lust-filled rasp, rock-salt and deep. 
Your voice, however, is all tease, still hushed but laced with mischief despite your mounting pleasure. “Yeah? Gonna come in my pussy?”
It’s almost not fair and you almost feel bad, seeing the way Eddie fights to make his gasp silent as the channels of your cunt clench in answer to his fucked-out expression. With his next thrust, Eddie loses the battle- a hoarse, blissful moan much too loud spills over and out into the quiet room. 
Moving quick, your hand slips from the back of Eddie’s neck to his mouth, palm flat over the plush of his lips.. The commanding tone comes easy this time (with practice, you’ll surely be a natural).
“Eddie. Be. Quiet.”
Usually, Eddie’s got stamina enough to prioritize your pleasure, making sure you’re taken care of at least twice before he even thinks of himself. Tonight, though, he’s already been straining in his jeans for hours, unbearably turned on from your earlier sharp words, pushing the limits of desperation.
Your words, once again, do the trick. Eddie’s cock pulses, and he comes hard, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your hand, chorus of whimpers successfully dampened. His dark brows knit together, eyes pinched shut, nostrils flaring with each stilted breath.
He’s so fucking hot when he comes, hair a riot around stormcloud eyes that open to take you in. Even prettier when he’s coming down, leaning into your hand for support before you take it away, guiding and encouraging him to lay down.
Eddie collapses, carefully enough that it doesn’t jostle you, but still with his full weight. The crown of his head radiates heat against your chin. 
His arms wrap solidly around your middle as he whispers (he’s learning) in croaky fragments, “Jesus fucking H. I think you just broke my brain. Smashed it into a million little pieces. Never come so hard in my life. I’m in love with you.”
The laugh you give him is quiet but golden, the rise and fall of your chest causing his head to bounce a bit (but Eddie could die happy between your breasts so he doesn’t mind). “See? It’s worth it to listen to me, sometimes.”
“You’re so smart. Gonna do whatever you say, forever and ever. Cart-blank.” And then he’s pushing up onto his elbows, keeping his face level with your left breast so he can suck your nipple into his mouth, gently worrying his teeth over the peaked bud.
Previously tangled in the sheets, your hand flies up to grab his shoulder, nails digging in. “Fuck. Fuck, Eddie. That’s good. And- ah- it’s ‘carte blanche’.” 
He leaves the comfort of your breast with a sigh. “Whatever you say, princess. Gonna let me fuck you some more? Your turn to be the loud one.”
1K notes · View notes
urfavleo777 · 4 months
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the only thing i need in my life is soft morning sex with Joost and just being so needy and loving for each other🙏🙏 (praise kink makes my brain go brrr😩)
love your work!❤️
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lazy mornings
joost klein x fem!reader
warnings: face-sitting, language, smut.
your eyes open lazily under the influence of sunlight from outside the window. you mentally scold yourself and your boyfriend for not closing the curtains, but you were too busy with each other last night to even remember.
it’s quiet, save for the soft snores filling your ears. with the way your body is tangled with joost’s, you feel his steady breathing, his face happily buried in the crook of your neck.
this is one of the first times you wake up first. usually joost is the early bird who gets up just before the alarm goes off. the result of opening your eyes first was last night's drinking with friends. joost, well he drank way too much. so it's inevitable that he'll wake up with a huge hangover.
“god morgen, beautiful.” his morning voice is always so deep — raspy. you shut your eyes again, murmuring a greeting back at him as he props himself up a little to kiss you on the cheek. “ouch, my head.”
“do you need medicine, love?”
“no,” he yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. “i need only you.”
you laugh, starting to run your finger along jooste's tinted cheek. he closes his eyes under your touch, enjoying each new movement. a blissful little sigh slips from his lips, as he nuzzles into your palm. you lean forward to smear a kiss against his forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on his skin.
you admire every one of his features, ghosting your hand over his bare skin. he always looks beautiful, of course, but especially when he has his eyes closed. it is mornings like these you most adore — a quiet moment to contrast your loud, busy life. a moment alone with your lover, with your thoughts. when you stop the scratching, he grabs your hand and places a long kiss on it.
he hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “mh, continue.”
he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting. 
“i don’t want you to fall asleep again.” you laugh quietly, burying your hands in his messy blonde hair.
you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.
joost finally opens his blue eyes and, you take back your words, he is even more beautiful than ever.
being in joost’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.
“what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.
”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. “you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”
a pause. 
then, a chuckle bubbles up from joost’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.
”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. “don’t you have enough after yesterday?”
“never.” you shake your head, smiling deviously.
“sit on my face then.” he shuffles further down on the bed, lifting his head away from the pillow. “go ahead. make yourself comfortable.”
as you obey, you feel a tingling sensation down on your lower belly, butterflies awakening as you place your knees in between his head. “such a pretty look.” you squeal when he tugs your thighs closer, his mouth immediately attaching to your wet pussy. joost growls deeply, feeling the vibrations on your cunt.
your mind goes into a state of bliss, your hands grabbing his hair tightly. “that’s right,” he says between licking your cunt, “fucking grind yourself on me, mhmm…”
“oh, baby,” you whimper, closing your eyes as your hips unconsciously hump his face, “i think i’m gonna cum.”
he replies with a deep “mhm?” and doesn’t stop playing with your engorged, sensitive clit. he laps his tongue on your pussy like an animal, his big hands gripping your thighs so tightly that they might leave handprints.
your legs shake as you climax, your hands reaching behind you to grab ahold of his thighs. he licks all the cum spilled out of you.
but joost doesn’t stop.
your eyes expand when he continues to drink up all your juices, lapping his tongue against your throbbing bud again and again, nonstop. the overstimulation makes you pull away, but he stops you.
“we’re not done,” he grumbles, “not fucking done eating your pussy.”
joost’s mouth and jaw were soaked in your wetness, and that’s clearly what he likes. joost likes it messy, he likes to eat your pussy like it was his last meal. and seeing you on top of him like this — being a good girl to take his tongue, learning how to subdue the overwhelming sensations and instead take pleasure in them, he plans to reward you after this.
“i—i’m cumming,” you barely say in a whisper, mouth agape.
joost chuckles menacingly as you spill all over him once again. he watches in awe how your body trembles, struggling to keep yourself up.
“good girl,” he kisses your inner thigh. “you’re more valuable than all the medicines in the world.”
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ashhh-14 · 5 months
Text
Husband!Aventurine x Reader
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Synopsis: your husband came home after a month long work trip and you missed him a little too much. As an apology he offers to give you a part of himself for next time he goes away.
Warning: afab!reader, reader referred to as wife, breeding, hair pulling, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, talk of breeding, imagination of reader as a mother, degradation (use of the word 'slut' like twice), praise, gentle, rough, missionary, on all fours, face down.
A/n: went a lil overboard w this one but couldn't stop myself! Happy reading!
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"I missed you so much" you breathed as your lips parted from your husband's.
He didn't give a verbal reply as he kissed you again, his tongue exploring your cavern, running over the roof of your mouth as his fingers plunged deeper inside you.
"Yeah? You missed me, treasure?" He asked with a smile that spoke of his smugness, but that look quickly darkened as he dove into your neck, mouth sucking purple and red bruises.
"Mmh can't have your neck barren. The old ones faded." He moaned as he bit the junction between your neck and collar bone, rolling his tongue over the skin before sucking it. He released it with a pop, retracting his fingers from your pussy as he used his index finger traced around the outline, thumb pressing against your clit as you gripped the bedsheets in pleasure, arching your back as he looked down at you with a lust filled gaze.
"Even when I was surrounded by beauty all over while I was away, nothing could even hold a candle in front of my wife." He breathed, grunting as he unbuttoned the constraints of his pants, groaning in relief as his length sprang out, finally getting to breathe.
Your eyes fell on his shaft, nearly rolling back just at the sight of it. No matter how many times you saw it, felt it, let it inside, you couldn't get enough. It was always like the first time.
"Aventurine..." You whimpered in need, your hand reaching out as you unbuttoned his shirt all the way, leaving it on as he wrapped his hand with yours, climbing on top of you.
"I'm here my love" he kissed your jaw in reassurance, sliding off your bottoms completely as he gently pried your legs open.
You did it without complaint, complying as he settled in between your legs, his gaze sizing you up and down.
"You don't know how much I missed this sight." He marveled. Your hair sprawled across the pillow, eyes lidded and lips parted as you panted heavy breaths. Neck littered in bruises as your breasts heave up and down with each ragged breath you took.
You tugged at his shirt slightly, whining at your husband. "Need you. Been so long."
He chuckled, lips curving up in a sly yet fond smile. "Whatever my treasure wants, treasure gets."
You both moaned in unison as he slipped the tip in, your insides clenching so much that his tip was forced back out. You whimpered at that, looking at him with pleading eyes as he bent down to press a kiss to your forehead. "You have to relax or I won't be able to get in."
You did as told, trying your best as you took a deep breath. Aventurine straightened up, pushing your legs open further, lining his tip with your slit before plunging in with one single thrust.
He groaned at the sensation as you cried out in pain. Even if it's just been a month it was still so hard to get used to him.
He looked down at you, his thumb wiping the corners of your eyes before he placed them on the curves of your waist, placing a peck on your lips one last time. "I would have waited, treasure but I can't help myself right now."
With that he withdrew himself all the way out, Just to slam it back in once again. His pace was unforgiving as he opted for an animalistic speed, balls slapping against your skin each time he withdrew just to insert himself back in.
"Your insides forgot the shape of me. Have to remind them again who they're made for." He groaned as he threw his head back, the hands gripping your waist pulling you back down against him hips as he continued thrusting in, effortlessly making you bounce on his cock.
He halted for a moment but your soft moans didn't cease, his length throbbing violently inside you as he propped your one leg over his shoulder, kissing your ankle before he resumed his unforgiving pace.
Your moans turned to high pitched screams of his name as his cock tapped against your cervix with each thrust in this new position.
"mmh-Aventurine-" he looked down at you with his neon pink and blue hooded eyes, moaning his name oh so sensually. His eyes fell on where you two were joined which only urged him to go faster, wanting to watch more as your breasts bounced with each of his hard pumps.
"Tell me how much you missed me, Treasure" his eyes rolled to the back of his head when he heard your pathetic tone whimper in reply "So much-! T-too much! W-wwas so alone without you! Mmh~!! S-so lonely ahh-"
He urged his eyes open, gulping hard as he looked at you, his thrusts never stopping. "Let me give you a baby" He breathed.
Your eyes widened, the haze in your mind vanishing enough for you to coherent his words.
He bent down, his eyes in front of yours as he cradled your cheek in his hand, the other going to grip your thigh over his shoulder to keep it steady as to not hinder his cock from delving into your wetness. You don't know how much he'd give just to stay inside you.
"Yeah" he said breathless, kissing you with a vigour you didn't know was possible as he turned his tongue with yours, pulling away as the string of saliva broke, more drool, his drool dribbling out of your mouth. He didn't wait for a reply as his hips started slamming against yours relentlessly. "It's not fair that I have to leave you so often. Let me give you my child, an exact copy of me to keep you company while I'm away." His mind turned black as he said those words, your cunt clenching around him before releasing your essence on his dick, not being able to help yourself as you felt his words deep into your core.
His own dick throbbed as he pushed it inside your gushing cunt as deep as he could before he let go with a loud groan, his hot and thick cum burning its way inside your womb.
You laid there panting as he too struggled to catch his breath. He ran a hand along your curves as you reached up to brush his beautiful sandy locks away from his sweaty forehead.
Just when you were about to get up you felt him move again. You moaned involuntarily as you yelped in surprise "Aventurine-!"
He hummed mindlessly, slowly thrusting, feeling his cum sloshing around your insides. "Have to make sure it takes Treasure. Want to give you a family."
You moaned at that, closing your eyes and resting your head comfortably against the plush pillows as you gave in to your husband and his desires.
He slowly started picking up his pace again, putting both of your legs above his shoulders as his dick rubbed against your insides effortlessly due to his previous release.
A low growl left his throat as he saw his dick going in and out, imprinting on your lower belly on how deep he is inside you.
Placing a hand against your tummy he leaned down, his hips snapping forward as he stilled, his breath ghosting against your neck as he pressed down. "Soon there will be another part of me inside right here. I'll take good care of you and our little one." He started thrusting again. "Will nourish your insides every night with my cum. Will do my very best so that you birth a healthy baby." Your legs shook as his words snapped your last restraint, Cumming on his cock for the second time that night with a loud prayer of his name.
With a few more thrusts he followed suit, filling up your insides once more with his seed.
As a little clearing seeped in you felt that your husband was still hard...
"Aventurine.. " you said with a pleading voice, drool dripping down your chin as you looked up at him when he pulled out. Whether your tone was telling him for more or to stop, you didn't know as you were flipped onto your stomach.
His dick entered you once again, finding it's home as he gave you a moment to rest, Patting your back as he raised your ass up. "Aren't you my good little wife? Won't you do this for me?" He said with a sweet and needy tone as you buried your face into the pillow, sobs escaping your swollen lips as he once again started his abuse on your cunt.
He moaned loudly, closing his eyes. "Can reach so mmh d-deep like this. Best position to get you knocked up."
You pushed back in futile attempts to aid his thrusts, his speed was unforgiving, with the sole purpose to breed you.
He slowed down his thrusts in favour of feeling his cock drag slowly against your walls. Each thick vein ripping another whimper from your throat. He pulled back so only the tip was in, pushing back inside with such an agonizingly slow pace that you could feel him pushing his cum off the walls and inside your pussy, your womb feeling each spurt he pushed inside, your insides a little too happy at the opportunity to finally make a child as they gushed around his dick once more.
You fell on the bed with that, losing every bit of energy to keep you upright. Throat too scratchy to scream or moan anymore it settled with incoherent mumbles of your partner's name. "nnngh Avent-mh r-rine-"
As if breaking you into a dumb slutty mess wasn't enough, he started once again, plunging inside you like it'll be the last time his dick will get to seek refuge inside you.
He picked up both your wrists, placing them on your lower back and holding it in one of his large hands he started pushing inside with so much force you thought he'd rip you in half.
He groaned "My Treasure will give me a child to cherish. Will make me a father. Right my love?" He asked, his dick never ceasing its movement inside you.
When you gave no reply he looked down, fisting your hair in his other hand and making you look up at him with your fucked out expression.
"Right treasure?" He punctuated his question with the smacks of his tip on the entrance of your womb.
You nodded dubiously. But that wasn't enough. He pulled harder, making you cry out as you choked "y-yes Aven-!"
Satisfied he pushed your face back into the mattress, resuming his previous bruising pace.
He threw his head back as he felt himself get close again. "So good for letting me get you pregnant. Laying there and taking it like a good slut."
Sweat dripping down his face, his chest glistening with it as his hips moved, moulding your pussy to the shape of him. You were sure your cervix was bruised by now as you withered on the bed helplessly, incoherent and too fucked out to process anything.
He closed his eyes, the image of you welcoming him home with a big round belly, breasts too big and tender to touch as they threatened to slip from beneath the fabric flashed his mind.
That was enough to tip him over the edge, stilling his hips as his tip prodded an entrance so deep inside you that you didn't know was possible as a scream ripped out from your lungs, knocking every bit of energy out of your being as you reached the brink of passing out.
Aventurine gave a few more pumps with his tip still keeping the entrance open to make sure you took every bit of it inside.
He fell on you with an exhausted thud, slipping his arms beneath you as he rolled on his side.
Wiping his hand across your barely awake face he pushed some hair away from your forehead. Peppering your face with gentle kisses he whispered.
"I love you Treasure"
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Aventurine Masterlist
Masterlist
Written by yours truly
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