#maintaining a clean home with pets | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

archive-doll · 16 days ago

Text

Oh, sweet neighbour. III

Johnny Mactavish x f!reader.

SYNOPSIS: Johnny tries to be a gentleman, but god, you are so delectable.

MDNI 18+ ONLY CW: the military and inaccuracies. you're pregnant, that's a warning on its own. takes place in Scotland, AU where Johnny is forcibly retired and finds a new obsession. hints of dom/sub dynamic. Hints of child abuse/neglect. Kyle x Johnny is mentioned, if you squint. Slightly angsty. Mention of John. Pet names are used - hen, bonnie, lass. He gets a hard-on. FLUFF M'eudail means dearest/darling apparently. I hope so, at least.

Have mercy on my grammar, English is not my first language.

AUTHOR NOTE: we're getting there! some intimacy and vulnerability as you two progress in your fresh relationship(?).

PREV. MLIST

The rough knocks on your front door don’t startle you as you roam in your living room, unable to sit for long when you're on the phone. Leo barks once, the old dog wagging its fluffy tail behind him, while he raises his head toward the door.

You're not worried. You know who it is now. Johnny.

Your feet are kept warm in your slippers as you walk to the door, and you frown, listening to the employee on the phone. Your eyes flicker as you turn the key to the side before pushing the handle down to find him. That familiar twirl in your chest comes back to life, little thing, at the sight of him enveloped in his coat.

"Hey." You murmur, your phone sliding away from your mouth for a moment.

There is no thought in your head when you shift your weight onto your toes, lifting yourself enough so that your mouth can press a chaste kiss on his jaw. His beard tingles, and you fall back on your feet with a smile before turning away. Drew back by that damn phone call.

"So, you are telling me you cannot come today, yes?" You repeat, hearing the door being kicked back. You turn towards Johnny with a sigh as you listen to the older man on the phone, giving you his apologies. "No, it's alright, I - I understand. Goodbye."

Johnny's coat is resting by yours on the wall when you cut the call. It's not their fault, and you know that, but it doesn't mean it's not frustrating. A little family business was supposed to come and take a look at the electric wires going around your house, because the lights keeps flickering. But your appointment will have to be postponed. They were a strong thunderstorm yesterday, south in the county, and some roads are now flooded.

"Wha' is it, bonnie?"

"They can't come. Roads are not accessible because of the storm." You mumble, placing your phone down before pinching the arch of your nose.

Everything had been going so well for you in the last few days. Under Johnny's firm recommendation - ignored demand, really - you had someone come and check on your multiple fireplaces. Before the end of the day, they were cleaned and are now safe to use and well-maintained, and now, you know how to safely utilise them.

Then, due to Johnny's organisation and surprisingly wide knowledge, your kitchen seems anew. No squeak or screeching sounds can be heard anymore, and you even had the time to paint the doors blue while Johnny took care of the island counter, sanding and varnishing it clean.

You went, with your new shadow, to that damn slaughterhouse, and got two mares for barely anything. They were going to be slaughtered, and Mister Graham generously lended you his trailer for you to take them home. It's been three days now, and they are already growing comfortable at your presence, after long hours passed by their side.

Everything was going so well.

"Ey, ey now, lassie." Johnny hushes you at the first sound of your sniffle. It's impossible to miss it.

He had already seen the signs when you opened the door, the way your shoulders are curled forward as if to hide into yourself and disappear. That little crease in your brows, which means anxiousness. That little pinch in the right corner of your mouth, hiding your displeasure and gloom.

But he sees it. Johnny sees you. He barely makes anything sound, even though it feels like rushing through fire and swiftly comes by your side, before you can feel his hands settle on your shoulders.

"It's stupid, isn't it?"

"Nah, not stupid." He hums back to you, fingers gently kneading at your shoulder. Without another word, you're surrounded by his warmth.

You don't resist as he strokes his knuckles down your spine, making you nestle closer, deeper into him while you rest your cheek on his chest.

Your fingers curl at the edge of his jumper when he places his hand by your nape. Johnny does that often when you get overwhelmed or apprehensive. It helps in settling you, he noticed. His thumb caresses your skin, that little part right behind your ear, a soft spot, and you sigh, already feeling comforted by his simple sign of affection. You're not alone anymore. That's what he tells you.

"Let's go out, aye? Ye said ye need tae go buy some food."

"Mhm. And there's that thrift shop that I wanted to go visit."

He grunts in answer, his nose skipping over the crown of your hair. Your slippers move on the ground, settling in between his boots as you squeeze your arms around his chest, hands finding refuge on the slope of his shoulders. Eyes close, you bask in it - the security he offers you. The stability he brings into your life, someone to lean on. Someone to talk to when you worry, to share your joy with.

"Go into the car, a'right? I'll go get the bags for ye."

Johnny knows it unsettled you when you don't pipe up a word at his word. Usually, you tend to put up a fight or always think of something else to do before, so you're not simply sitting down while he does the work. Your words, not his. But you only give him a little shake of your head, accepting, and he feels his heart throb in reaction. He would rather have your banter and disapproving frown than this version of you. Dejected, and your pretty mouth curled down.

If it were up to him, you would always wear a smile. Probably nothing more, too.

"C'mon now, hen." His hand pats the end of your back, and you grasp at his shoulders one more time before moving away.

While that's inconvenient, it could be a nice change of pace for you. To go out for once, and think of yourself for a little bit. He pushes a few plastic bags into one, checking to see you putting the little yellow raincoat on, almost ready to go. His eyes find the silhouette of your handbag, and he grabs it before finding himself locking your front door.

You've finally taken up residence now. There are no more bags in your room. A few paintings on the wall of your staircase. Cooking books are well-ordered in a little library he found for you, close to your fridge and one potted plant. He can always see a novel on the low table now, in the living room. And, always, there's a pair of dark blue slippers waiting for him at the entrance. Your home finally looks like one.

It took a few words or persuasion, not that you're difficult to convince, and he even put more bolts on your front door and the back one. The 80s curtain went into the trash after you discovered some mold one morning. Not that you know, but his plan to make you change your windows is doing well. And, your stairs don't make a noise when he sneaks in.

You're sitting behind the wheel when he approaches the car, yours, and you can only laugh when he frowns at you, with his arm in a cast.

"You can't drive, Johnny, you know that."

"Dinnea need yer reminder." He grumbles, watching your joy bubble up when he circles around the car.

Before you could even roll out of the land, Johnny is fiddling with the radio. Your eyes flicker across his frame, still trying very hard to ignore how beautiful and kind he is. Your hands squeeze around the wheel when your eyes find his lap, strong thighs pushing into the jeans until it's tight. You never thought you'd end up with a lumberjack kind of neighbour, a retired military guy who grumbles, offended when you're trying to do anything by yourself.

You snort at the memory of him, almost gasping out loud when he'd seen you vacuum the kitchen three days ago. It was so dramatic how he stomped toward you and gently took your hands away before starting to do the household chores all by himself.

"Wha'?"

"Nothing. Just, for a big guy like you, you can be very - theatrical." You snicker, and he turns toward you, eyes sharp and pinched as he gazes you up and down as you accelerate.

"Wha' does tha' even mean?"

"What I just said."

"Dinnea be cheeky with me now."

Your shoulders shake as you giggle before a jolt take over you when his fingers pinch your thigh. Your eyes widen, indignant, and you gasp out his name in a whine before you strike at him, knuckles hitting into the broadness of his chest. He chuckles, catching your wrist easily and does that thing again, rubbing his thumb over your nail polish.

"Wan' tae stop and do yer pretty nails again?"

"Mhm? Oh, yeah, maybe. What will you do while I'm there?" You say, surprised by his proposition, feeling that tingle in your belly when you feel him fidget with your palm a little more.

"Wha' d'ye mean? I'll be with ye."

You blink his way, hearing the calm in his tone as if it's obvious, the only option, the only choice there is for him. To stay by your side and share the moment with you. You look forward again, shifting slightly the wheel of your car before your fingers curl around his hand. It's quiet, and none of you say anything about it when he circles his thumb across your knuckles, following the bones there.

The rest of the drive is filled with chatter, as it is usually between the two of you. He has been trying to teach you Scottish - even some Gaelic - but your pronunciation is deeply concerning, apparently. His face curls and recoils as if you've pained him each time you try to repeat the words. You find it absolutely delightful.

You barely have time to unclasp your seatbelt when he's opening your door. His palm finds your elbow, curling around it as you turn in your seat, feet finding the muddy ground. He fastens the zipper of your coat, using his casted hand under your disapproving eyes until you're warm and snug. Johnny shifts enough to cover you from the rain until you've put your hood on.

The motion is imperceptible, you don't even notice it, like a lot of other little things he does for you.

"Where d'ye want to gae first?"

"Thrift shop, maybe the library after?"

"Aye." He nods, a firm hand pushing the car door close before you lock it absentmindedly, eyes flickering around the streets.

You only came in passing before, not feeling quite like you belonged there, and barely understanding most people you'd cross paths with. You knew it would be hard, moving to another country and perfecting the language there while learning to decipher the different accents and slang words you come across. But you never thought it could make you feel so lonely.

But with Johnny by your side, it's different. First, because no one looks at you when this handsome man walks by your side, too distracted by his opalescent eyes and that swag he possesses with each step. And because you know no one will ever approach you when he glares at everyone like that. Not that they would try, anyway, with how intimidating he looks these days.

You stroll around the village quietly, Johnny taking position between the street and you. One hand lay on the roundness of your tummy, and the other grazed his own with every few steps, fingers twitching each time he traces his index along the length of your palm. It's soft, how he reminds you he's here, by your side. And he isn't planning on leaving either.

A little bell dings when Johnny pushes the door open, watching you step inside the warm place before letting it fall close. It smells a bit dusty and old, like your grandma's house when you were a kid. An employee greets you behind her desk, and you give her a little wave before disappearing between the aisles.

You didn't come to Scotland with a lot of belongings. Actually, most of your wardrobe was left behind; only keep what was necessary or items you had an attachment to. Like a majority of your possessions. Now that you're pregnant, you need some clothes, ones that you can actually wear. Your eyes flicker as you walk around, humming to yourself when you pass by the skirt aisle. There are a few that you like, either the pattern adorning it or the material, and place them in your little bag.

"Why don't ye go about, I'll hold tha' for ye."

"You sure? Don't you want to look around?" You ask, finding Johnny standing by your side as his fingers already curl around the handle, taking the bag for you.

"I am. Gae on, hen." He reassures you with a little tilt of his chin.

Your hand passes down his forearm, squeezing his wrist gratefully before you look back.

You find a few more long skirts before you move away. Each time your feet lift from the ground, Johnny copies your motion, following you around. Never allow himself to leave your side. The pants, well, that's another difficult task to complete. You place the hem by your waist and rub your fingers on the tissue, but you can't find anything you really like apart from two pairs of baggy jeans. It's probably out of style now, but that doesn't matter.

Johnny can't seem to look away for too long. He's battling between two instincts - one ordering him to stay by you and the other one prickling at his nape until he stares around, making sure the exits are free if needed. It's a habit he can not seem to shake, though he isn't trying. No one told him how alien civilian life would be when they forcefully pushed him out of the Army.

But his head always turns back to you. He feels slightly out of place as you give a once over to the dresses, but he takes a breath between his teeth and focuses on you.

You take one out of the aisle, turning it to find the back free, gently dipping down to what you assume would be your hips in a gentle curve. Another one you choose, a black little thing and a denim dress that will fall to mid-thighs at best. You consider it, lips curling in a pensive pout before deciding you'll take it.

"Wha' else d'ye need?" Johnny asks you, pushing the bag your way to discard you of the articles.

"Jumper, tee-shirt- all of it. I didn't take much with me."

His dark eyebrows curl down as he ponders your words, rolling them around in his head. You haven't spoken yet about your past, only giving information to feed his paranoid mind, but never more than what was needed. That's another intriguing piece of the puzzle that is you. One he is intent on resolving.

You don't think much of it as Johnny watches you fly around, the bag getting more and more heavy with each piece of clothing you want to take home with you. You even find a jumpsuit with a little heart on the back that you immediately fall in love with. He finds the sight of you, gushing about some clothes, very charming. But Johnny can't stop going back to it.

Why would you leave all that you know, all your friends and family, your house, your job, to come bury yourself in one little remote village in Scotland? Gods know he could barely consider the idea when he was in the hospital. And then later, when he wander around helplessly. It might be half due to his professional deformation and the other half because of his slithering fascination for you, but Johnny starts to get slightly apprehensive, not knowing.

"Did'ye left someone behin'?"

The question takes you by surprise, as you are looking into the coat section, searching for one that falls to your knees. Your hands still, as his soft voice twirls around the both of you, eyes staying right in front of you. Johnny can read you easily, of course, seeing the discomfort as your soft hands tighten and twist the garment.

"My mother." You finally give him, eyes fleeting over your shoulders to find him.

"M sorry, lass."

"It's fine. She isn't very good. Or kind." The hushed words escape your mouth almost out of your control, and you shake your head a little, thinking about it.

"Nah?"

"No."

You can see his hands tightening and let out a little sigh. Folding the jumper between your hands, then turn around until you face him. Johnny is surprised not to find any sadness or hint of resentment. Instead, you stand there, with your admission, in peace with it. With that other fragment of yourself hanging in the air that you give him. Sweet little girl, always so good to him, even in your vulnerability.

"I'll tell you more if you tell me about you." You propose, with a little glint of challenge in your eyes.

It's a well-intended proposal. One who's fair and incredibly tempting. Because, while Johnny could definitely find any, and more, information he could want in a simple phone call, that's not what he should do. Or want to do. Honest, he thought about it. There are a lot of people who owe him a favour all across the globe with interesting positions.

But today, Johnny has a plan. To show you that he's reliable, a person of trust. One you can share your pain with and your joy. A shoulder you can lean on, a hand you can reach to. Today, Johnny wants to make that step with you - and open himself.

He can not tell you all of it. There are things that, even if he wished to share, he isn't able to. Confidential. Restricted. He has knowledge that could topple an empire. Tear apart one of the most powerful countries in the world and start a revolution. The crown would fall, and the head that holds it, too.

He wishes to share. Johnny wants to talk to you, and silently warns you of what you will choose if you decide to keep him in your life. The consequences. And what he wants to - need. He never searched for a relationship, satisfied with the entertainment and the lightness of meaningless hookups. Faces that didn't matter. Arms he could disappear into.

Until, them, of course. And then, well, betrayal. Silence, not even hearing his side, without a goodbye.

But you, oh, hen.

He craves more. Johnny needs you like air. It's more devotion than love, really. Something that simmers beneath his skin and twists at his gut. And while he knows it's not right, that it isn't a good foundation for what he wishes to build with you, it's the truth. He wouldn't sit by your side when you sleep if it weren't. He wouldn't drink in the sight of you like air - unable to breathe when he's away, if it weren't true.

Therefore, today, Johnny will do it right. Show you what he has to offer, what it would be if you allow him to be more than a very nice neighbour. Today, Johnny will be a gentleman, like John taught him to be around a pretty bird like you.

The face of the old geezer flashes in his mind, and his jaw clenches for a second before he focuses back on you. They don't deserve his lamentations. Not after what they did to him.

"Dinnae think ye would want to know more 'bout me, lass." He tuts, strolling forward until the tip of his boots grazes your coloured sneakers.

"Oh, so sorry, Sir. Where are my manners?" You answer back with a grin, leaning forward like the little tease that you are.

Johnny can feel his breath halt in his throat and the groans that threaten to take its place and shatter the silence of the thrift shop you are in. You flutter your lashes at him, soft eyes glistening with mirth, and his attention leisurely hitches toward the silhouette of you, leaning closer. His eyes are dangerously tempted to stroke down the swell of your breasts. Bloody hell, you're a sight.

"Course, I want to know more about you, Johnny." The words are pronounced like a gentle confession, something precious only for him to hear. "I have the feeling you're not planning on leaving, so."

His fingers covered with calluses, come and pinch your chin at your little taunt. His eyes linger down the lines of your features, carefully memorising it, the moment you both are in where you make another careful step in your relationship. You're a little bashful, he can tell, but you're making great efforts. He'll have to reward you for it.

"Find yerself mor' clothes, hen; then we'll talk." He promises, trailing the first knuckle of his index along your chin.

He trails behind you quietly unless you ask for his impartial opinion. The bag is full long before you make your way to the cash register. Johnny gently coaxed you into choosing that skirt you looked at earlier, and you feel his approving gaze while the kind woman passes your articles.

Johnny has half the mind to pay for you, his eyes flickering from the blue card in your fingers to the lady, but reels it in the need to be a provider. He has to be patient, slowly making you lean on him. And make you think it's your idea, too, with a few words and a gentle caress of his hand. He's certain you wouldn't need much discipline on this matter, but for now, he has to make you accustomed to him first.

It's with a particularly satisfied glow on your face that you step out of the third shop. You put a bit more money into making your wardrobe substantial than you had planned, but well, you deserve a little pick-me-up after today's change of plan. And Johnny's contented grumble of approval helps in making your decision easy to accept.

"Where tae now hen?"

"Nails?" You hum, looking at him for his approbation. You still wonder how this can be interesting for him, watching you decide between clothes, change your mind, or try some new shoes on, but don't dare to speak about it.

Not with how pleased he had seemed each time you asked for his opinion.

"Aye, let's dae tha'."

Your fingers twitch at the first glide of his touch on your palm before his hand cradles yours, engulfing it in his paw. Your heart picks up slightly, but you don't fight the feeling and the gentle shift between you. Instead, you side-step closer, giving him a genuine, happy smile in response.

"What colour should I do this time?"

"Dinnae. Red suit ye." Johnny mules over it, keeping your soft fingers firmly intertwined in his grip.

"Mhm. I don't want red again. And I have to cut my nails, can't get any work done with how long they are."

"Shouldnae worry 'bout it, hen." Johhny huffs, giving you a firm stare as you continue your slow stroll back to the car.

"Yes, yes," you sigh with a little nod of your head, amused by how disturbed he always finds the thought. "Should only enjoy life, sip on tea, and look pretty."

"Aye, ye should." He grunts in affirmation, and you watch with great enjoyment how he puffs out his chest, looking like a peacock parading.

"Johnny... I came here to make a good life for myself." You gently remind him, not taking offence at his demeanour. You know he doesn't mean it in a diminishing way.

It doesn't mean you agree with it, though you find it rather lovely, how firm he is in his opinion. That you should have a good life, a life that doesn't mean waking up at the crack of dawn, blistered hands, or being faced with any troubles. You should have the opportunity to relax at any given moment and partake in your hobbies, or simply entertain yourself as you wish.

"I know, hen." He sighs, too, squeezing your hand firmly to reassure you.

Truly, he admires that about you. Your independence, how you always want to do it all on your own. You have a quick whip about you, finding alternative to every problematic situation. But Johnny is starting to think you didn't become independent because you wanted to, and leans more toward the hypothesis that you didn't have a choice. Especially after what you just revealed to him about your mother.

That greatly angers him.

You deserve to be able to rest once in a while. And understand that you're not alone. Not anymore. Not as long as you keep him by your side.

"So, not red, and short." You mumble to yourself, as you look forward.

You were still thinking about it when you both entered the salon. The hostess welcomes you, and her voice stutters once she finally raises her eyes from her laptop and finds Johnny standing behind you, in all of his glory. You try to hide it, your smile, but can't resist the giddiness it brings you, knowing Johnny wants to be near you. Even for something as insignificant as your nail appointment.

"You must be - " You have to bite down your bottom lip to avoid giggling when she utters your last name while flickering her surprised eyes once more on Johnny.

"Yes, I am."

"Well, Miss Mark will be your esthetician today."

The elegant sound of her stilettos clicking on the ground echoes as she guides you further into the little shop. You're eagerly welcomed by Miss Mark, an older woman with beautiful grey hair, and you settle down in front of her desk with a warm smile on your face. It's not long before Johnny is seated by your side, one arm resting on the back of your chair as you chat with the esthetician, going over your ideas.

"Okay, so short nails and some soft pink cherry picnic tip." Miss Mark repeats your final decision, turning slightly to the side before grasping a few boxes. "Do you want some charms?"

"I would like a few yes, flowers maybe?"

"I can do that. Here, tell me which you like most."

You take the little box she slides on the desk, and absentmindedly shift toward Johnny as you go over her collection. You feel him before you see him, his chest pressing into your side, and his hand falls on your arm as he gazes over your shoulders at all the accessories. He doesn't speak, not yet, as you purse your lips, choosing first what colour would complement the nail art best.

"What do you think, Johnny?" You ask, fluttering your pretty eyes up at him, finding him much closer than you thought. A shudder runs down your spine when your nose grazes his chin, and you stutter back a few inches.

His fingers pat your upper arm as he stares down at the charms there that you placed down on the desk after a first sorting. You try to keep your manners, really, but your lips part when you take in his scent. A warm one, smell of firewood and a cologne you don't recognise. And his full beard, which he started trimming since he moved down the river, is making you needy for a touch.

"Like tha' one."

"The orchid?"

"Suit ye."

You gaze down at the flower with a smile, strangely embarrassed at his words, before feeling his palm rest just beneath your shoulder. Johnny presses his palm there, on your flesh, until you're nestled into his side, his frame engulfing you in his embrace. A chaste adoring peck is left on your temple as you rearrange the accessories, and you feel the flames lick at your cheeks in reaction.

You know Johnny can be quite affectionate, but it never happened in a public setting before. You don't mind the attention, of course not. You simply are too conscious of his presence, is all. You're pretty certain you can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you present the charms to the esthetician.

It's with no surprise that you find Miss Mark smiling at both of you, almost swooning at the view you must make. You know how it might appear, a pregnant lady and a sturdy man by her side. After all, Johnny was called your boyfriend twice today, and one told you, you made a good choice in marrying him. You had never stumbled so harshly on your words before, hands moving as you tried to find an answer to that, but Johnny, well.

He was preening. He is too now; you can feel it in how his body straightens in his chair.

"It's a nice lad you have here."

"Yeah." You sigh, not having the energy to say anything else.

And you don't exactly want to, your eyes shifting to find him, eyes crinkling under a prideful smile as being complimented on how well he provides for you. He almost reminds you of a dog, one whose tail wags so hard his whole body sways under the motions. You move in your seat and lay a hand on his knee, attracting his attention as you give him a grateful smile.

You might have the arguments or vigour to deny it if only for your own self-esteem, but you know all that Johnny does for you. He might not be your lad or your boyfriend, but well, you are still very lucky to have him either way.

"We don't have many lads come here with their girls. It's nice for once."

A simple smile is your answer to that as Miss Mark starts working on your free hand.

Fingers start running through your hair, gently adjusting your hairstyle as you start to chat with the kind woman. It's the usual question: where do you come from, and why did you come here, but it's a nice change to your now daily routine consisting of chasing after chickens and chores that exhaust you.

Both hands now resting in the UV machine, Johnny goes back over the list of all that you wanted to do before going back home. You definitely have to pass by the store so you can have a full fridge for the next two weeks, and then, well, Johnny wants to pass by that dog breeding farm a little further in the lands.

"We should go to the store first." You decide, gently moving your fingers under the blue lights. "But didn't make a list." You add, knowing they were something that you forgot to do before leaving home this morning.

"Can dae it now, don't fret, bonnie." He shushes you, a warm hand rubbing your shoulder lazily as he tugs his phone out of his pocket.

"Okay, then, I want to cook us some chicken for tomorrow's lunch. So thyme, onions, and garlic." You start then, leaning until your chin is pressed up against his bicep, watching with doe eyes, Johnny writing it all down.

"Potatoes, veggies." He hums after you, already knowing about the recipe since you told him about it three days ago. "And pepper, aye?"

"Yes, one of each." Your voice is sugary as you confirm his words, body melting into him, seeing how effortless he makes it all to be, caring about you.

"Aye. I'll make us som' cranachan on Sunday." He grumbles, too, his thick eyebrows frowning under his concentration as he adds a few more ingredients.

It's tranquil. You exchange ideas on recipes, asking each other what they want to eat next week. Your cheek rests on his shoulders, his left hand leisurely trailing to your wrist, where his hand settles as he finds your precious pulse. Johnny, watch, when you add a few more things to the list, and you wonder why no one has ever done this with you before.

Why did no one deigned to sit by you before and storm ideas on something so simple as next week's dishes? Your eyes shine as you admire his profile, your heart squeezing half in despair that you've been neglected for so long, and half in gratitude. You never knew how it would feel to be listened to. To find someone who cares for every word you share with them. There is a little burn on the back of your eyes as you snuggle into him deeper, a bit overwhelmed by the realisation that Johnny will do it for you.

Johnny would do that for you. All of it. From giving you ideas on your nail art to helping you get your new mare comfortable in your stable. He will bake you desserts without you needing to ask and support you through every struggle and hard decision you have to make. Johnny will stroke your hair as you doze off on your couch and make sure the fire is full enough for the rest of the evening. He will massage your sore feet and remind you to drink water during the day.

And he makes it look so easy, too. Like, if listening to you doesn't bother him. As if remembering what you said is not a hassle. Johnny shows you, without trying to, how serene it is to help you achieve your lifelong dream. And he does it all without you ever asking for anything. Without making you feel stupid or small.

When you step out of the nail salon, it's you who takes his hand in yours.

With Johnny pushing the cart around, you both stroll around between the aisles of the hypermarket. You only came here a few times before, so while Johnny is telling you of the next thing you are searching for, you look around, trying to understand where to go now.

All of the vegetables have been taken, and most of the meat too - you're planning on freezing a few pieces, just in case you can not drive up here because of the weather. Johnny spent such a long time in the fish sections, chatting up the employee so well he even got a discount. Almost half a bag has been invaded by the fish, the shrimps, and other seafood.

Then, when you went to choose yourself some self-care product, Johnny disappeared. You find him easily after that, multiple products in hand, with him standing there hands on his hips while looking at the strollers. You press a hand against the cart, putting down your creams and other cosmetics before joining him quietly.

In all honesty, you will need to buy one soon. The nursery is bare, and the pretty paper wall you had chosen on the internet is dry and secured, thanks to the man who is circling your waist with a burly arm. You're missing a lot of necessities, and it would do you some good to buy a little today, so you can start somewhere at least. Before, you didn't have the courage to do it or look into the enormous list you made when you first knew you were pregnant.

Now, that you are safe and not alone, you feel ready.

"I want one where you can take the carrycot off the stroller."

"Tha's would be better, aye. And a good harness." Johnny is lost in his thoughts, comparing every stroller presented in front of him as if dealing with a bomb. It almost makes you laugh.

"Mhm. We will need a car seat, too." You sigh, raising a hand to his chest, starting to feel excited about it. "Oh, and a high chair. Little spoons."

He huffs happily, eyes finding your delighted expression and circles your hip in his hand before pointing at one stroller, which looks made of rather good materials. You leave him, not before patting his chest mindlessly and walking closer so you can look at the price and then the description of the product. It's a rather hefty price, but the explanation of all the options almost convinces you.

"Wha' d'ye think?"

"Did you try it?"

"Nah. Was waitin' for ye." He says with a gentle shake of his head, before giving you a little shift up of his chin. You know what that means now. Go on hen.

The plastic is firm in your hold, and you take a step back, testing the wheels on the ground a few times. Backwards and forward. On the left, and on the right. Then, Johnny read you the instructions as you try taking off the carrycot, and it is easier than you expected it to be. Next, you observe Johnny fold it in a few motions. It went all so smoothly, and you watch him adjust it a few times, one hand stroking down your belly.

"Let's take it?"

Your eyes are shining when he pivots to face you, still holding into the stroller to find you there, smiling. Happy. Hopeful, too.

"Aye, hen." He nods, his voice low as you take his breath away.

In a few moments, you have chosen a bed made of good, strong wood that you can adjust in height and adapt to the age of your child as well than a highchair. You're surprised to find such a good quality product in a hypermarket, but comforted, too. Now, it seems real. Now, you're in a place where you are secure enough, financially and emotionally, to welcome your child.

When, with one hand circling his wrist, you take Johnny to the child section, you have to wonder who is the one expecting. He looks everywhere, more serious than you are in the quality and all the different options there are. Even the feeder, Johnny mules over it for quite a while. You end up buying three different nursing bottles of different capacities. Though you've decided long before meeting him to breastfeed your baby, there is nothing wrong with being farsighted.

Your cart contains much more than you were planning for, but as butterflies erupt in your chest, you can't really mind it. Between the bibs, the clothes that you chose, and the rest of it, two entire bags are overflowing with baby stuff. You can find in you to care, and even less when hearing Johnny whistle so joyfully as he filled your trunk, triumph painting his face.

"Now, where to?" You ask him as you put on your seatbelt, hearing him approaching the passenger door.

"I'll get ye ther'. Just drive out of the lot." He tells you as you twist the key into the ignition.

Once more, Johnny takes responsibility for the radio. And while most of the songs that are playing are unknown to you, you must say he has good taste in music. Mostly rock and some punk here and there. You hum the melody as you follow his instruction, Johnny looking at the map on his phone in between your conversation.

"Should ask me mother if she still hav' some of my bairn goods." He says after a moment as you concentrate on the driveway, the turns becoming sharper.

"Yeah?"

"Aye. Dinnae know her number so, I'll hav' to ask around."

You blink at the information, giving him a glance to find him relaxed in the car seat, eyes staying on the road. As always, his lap is as inviting as ever, but you barely notice it as you repeat the words into your head.

"You never talk about your family."

"Nothin' to say, hen."

"You mean nothing nice to say?" You ask again, slightly pushing, seeing the dark veil taking over his beautiful blue eyes.

His hair sways when he rolls his head to gaze at you, remembering your proposition in the thrift shop. He already knows he will say yes and accept it. After all, it could only bring you closer, and that is his objective. While, too, making you think it's your idea. It will give you an impression of control, though, really, with how he bends to your every wish, you might be.

"Aye. Left home when I turn'd eighteen."

"To enrol?"

"Yeh. Tried at sixteen, but they holdnae hav' me. The base was warmer than the old hag." He grumbles, thinking back to the times when he had to buy his own food or clothes when his parents forgot about his existence. He'd rather not get into the details just yet. "Wha' about yers?"

"My mom?" You say, glancing his way to find his piercing eyes staring at you as if investigating. "Well, she raised me by herself. Got cancer when I was young, dad left us then. Breast cancer. Always blamed me for it."

"Fokin' stupid."

Your lips tremble before you let out a laugh at the very tempestuous groan he lets out at your explanation, watching him fold his arms across his chest. The subject of your childhood is never a tender one. It never brings anyone a smile or a sweet sentiment. Unless you lie, of course, which you do sometimes when you don't want to get into it, or are not ready to share that part of you with a mere stranger, or people you don't trust.

But Johnny, well, you want to tell him the truth. Little by little, sure, but still. You want to be honest and sincere, and you're ready for someone to know you and see you, just as you are. You're simply lucky it's with good-hearted Johnny that you're doing it.

"On yer right, hen. Almost ther'."

You slow down as you turn the wheel, driving into a muddy path in the forest. It only takes you two minutes to see the large house there and the rest of the place. As soon as you open the door, you can hear them. The dogs. They must be expecting you because one grey-haired man comes to salute you as you zip up your coat, Johnny sliding your hood over your hair as you shake the man's hand.

"Well, hello, lov'. And you must be Johnny. I'm Angus."

"Aye. Nice tae meit ye."

"Well, come on, then, let me show you the dogs."

Angus is very kind, you find out. You had a lot of questions, a lot of ignorance too, about what a breeding farm entails, but he answers all of them, glad that someone is asking him about it so kindly. You're not certain you agree with the fundamentals of it, but you forget about it all when you first hear the little barks of the puppies.

A gasp leaves you before you're slipping away from Johnny, uncaring about the mud getting in your shoes or the cold wind that is making your teeth shake. Your hands settle on the fence as you look at them, all the little ones there, running around, digging into the ground, looking uncaring about the harsh weather of Scotland.

"Oh my god, Johnny, look!" You squeal, fidgeting on your feet as you gather some attention from the dogs.

"Aye, lass, I'm her'." Johnny chuckles, pressing his form into your back as he feels you fidget around, almost as excited as the little one running your way.

"They're about six weeks old, right now."

"What breed are they? They're so big already." You fawn over it, giggling when some start trying to climb the fence to come to you, waving at them with a bright smile.

"Irish Wolfhound, Ma'am. Make a good hunting dog, or a fine guard dog, too. What you're lookin' for, righ'?" Angus tells you, slightly bending over the fence, to come pet the puppies as he reveals the information to you.

Johnny is already looking away when you turn to face him, his hands pressing into the fence around you. You have to tilt your chin slightly to find him, blinking away the rain as he pinches his lips. You let out an amused scoff as he badly pretends to ignore you before you slap your hand over his chest, your knuckles hitting his guts gently.

You don't know if you're feeling slightly annoyed by his overprotective nature, or melting because of how much he cares for your security and well-being. The adrenaline isn't helping your fluttering mind either.

"Bad dog, Johnny." You murmur slightly, mocking, your hands settling under his coat to shelter themselves from the cold wind.

You feel him tense, a shiver running from his tailbone up to his nape. How his muscles tense against you, curling into a thick knot ready to be torn apart, and you grin his way, leaning into your toes to nudge your nose into his jaw. Johnny doesn't find it amusing at all, feeling how tight his breeches are starting to become as you snuggle your sweet body closer.

"Bonnie." He hisses low between clenched teeth, his mind circling around as if he is lacking oxygen.

Which he could be. As he nudges you away, one trembling hand curling around your hip, you turn the other way with a smile, already focusing back on Angus. His boots slide on the ground as he grunts low in his chest, the delicious arch of your back grazing his groins, hiding his vehement attraction from unwanting eyes. Steamin' bloody Jesus, you're going to kill him. And sooner than later, it appears.

You are not angry at him. You can't be, not while looking at the awkward little puppies trying to run around, already imagining taking one home with you. You get what Johnny is trying to do anyway. You chatted about it multiple times, the both of you, in passing. Or at least you thought, because Johnny doesn't seem to forget anything you say.

Leo is old, eight years old now, and while he will probably live another few years, having a younger pup might do him some good. And for the farm, you'll need a guard dog, probably even plural. You listen intently as Angus tells you all you need to know about Irish Wolfhounds, how tall they get in a few months, what their needs are - a lot of stimulation and land to cover - and what type of education suits them best.

"Wha' d'ye thin', hen?" Johnny whispers, his mouth grazing the sheel of your ear.

"How much?" You settle on saying, turning so you can look at Angus, curling one arm to hold onto Johnny's strong shoulders.

"For you, Ma'am, one mile."

"I'll take two." You say, raising your fingers with a grin.

Angus let out a little laugh, clapping in his hands before ushering you his way. You lose your shadow, but without looking behind you, you know that Johnny is close, probably overseeing the surroundings by the fence as you enter the little puppy area.

You barely have the patience to walk as you first step towards your house. The puppies are heavy already, big babies that yap sweetly and try to lick at your mouth as you hurry inside under Johnny's gratified laughter. It's hard work to close the door of the living room while holding to pup, but you do it anyway, leaving Johnny to do the heavy lifting.

The pitter-patter of their paws on the ground provides you with great delight. When Johnny comes bringing the first two bags in one hand - such a strong one he is - he finds you running around, barefoot, with some wet strand of hair flowing with you're every movement; he cannot stop smiling. It hurt almost to see you squeal when one comes running between your legs, one barking happily as they circle around you.

He's done many great things since he enrolled, all things considered. He built himself a life that is respectable by most. He's well seen and appreciated, too, though it might be different now, with the strain of deception haunting him. He has medals to prove some of his bravest acts, and became a man he can be, and is, proud of.

But nothing, ever, brings him more pleasure than seeing you like this. You're blooming now, head thrown back under your joyful laughter, so much that breathing hurts.

As he starts tidying up the purchases in the kitchen, Johnny finds himself distracted. You took it upon yourself to rearrange the living room with Angus' advice in mind and make it a good home for your new little ones. The giant bed takes up some space, and you try a few dispositions before settling on the best one, where it actually broadens the room. Now the couch faces the fireplace too, which makes more sense to you.

"Johnny?" You call sweetly, holding the little furniture you bought for them that will hold the cups.

"Aye, m'eudail?" He answers, putting back down the bag of peppers and follows the sound of your tantalising voice.

"Where do you think is best?" You ask, turning around to find him approaching. The little furniture is placed in two different spots.

One is close to the entryway, where you definitely need to add a flap door for them. This means that you'll need to remodel a bit, maybe change the front door, actually. Put one with more personality, maybe in some dark colour? But that's a problem for another day. You flutter your lashes at him, not that you're doing it on purpose. Of course, he knows that, but it doesn't mean the consequences are any different.

You smile as he strokes a hand down your back, a bit further down than this morning, and let him think over it. Johnny doesn't take long, of course, the quick thinker that he is and points at the one by the living room.

"You think?"

"Best for 'em tae get cosy with the room before addin' the door into it, hen."

You nod, tilting your head back so it presses into his shoulder and hum. You're happy. It's been a long time since you've been this happy. Johnny comes closer, breaking the distance until he has you in his arms, the cast resting calmly under your faintly swollen belly. His fingers trail there, over your belly button, and you smile, hearing the little dogs sniffing around their new home.

His nose digs into your hair, groaning at the smell of your shampoo and how soft you are against his skin. Even Kyle, beautiful boy Kyle, wasn't as soft as you are. He remembers watching him rub oil into his skin and some in his hair, too. Ended up applying it a few times, for his own selfish delight. He wonders if you would like Kyle. He's surely the least fearsome of them.

"Ye know I'm military, aye?"

"Of course, I know." You answer, opening your eyes with slight confusion at the sudden change.

"Had a team. A good one." Johnny murmurs, his nose trailing along your temple as he presses a soft peck into your skin.

Your hand finds his hurting one, fingers holding onto him as you let yourself be swamped in his affection. There is that strange twirl again, in your chest, as his breath tickles your skin. Johnny groans your name, one palm slithering down your side as he nuzzles into your hips, finding that delicious swell of yours hidden in that traitorous pair of jeans.

You feel him, but don't comment on it. You've been rather daunting yourself and are too embarrassed to say anything about it, anyway. You don't dare to move, soft eyes following his every movement. Your nose presses into his cheekbone as you murmur his name, a soft melody that makes his heart stammer. It's reassuring how you let him take his time and gather his thoughts.

"Good lads, they are. Ye would love Garrick." He sighs before he offers you soft kisses, as much as he can muster gentleness in himself.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. He's the kind one."

You snort, remembering everything he did for you, and still do. If Garrick is the kind one, you wonder what Johnny is. You massage his fingers, passing your index on the edge of the cast as you relax into his hold. You can tell he's thinking about it. About them. There is a glint in his eyes when he does, between sadness and sorrow.

"Whatever it is, I'll be here when you're ready."

He huffs, how you always know what he needs, Johnny will never comprehend it. But you do anyway and give him what you do best, understanding and patience. His hand carefully pets your belly, finding that little expansion of flesh there that's so precious and places one last kiss on your cheek.

"Let's get som' food in ye, aye?"

"Mhm, I'm starvin'."

reblogs are appreciated!

line divider by cafekitsune

513 notes · View notes

margecouture · 3 months ago

Text

resetting and restoring yourself 🎧

hitting the reset button is essential to your life, allowing you to recharge, reflect, and realign with your goals and values. life can be hectic, stressful, and demanding leading to a wave of overwhelming emotions and an increased chance of a burnout. luckily, having the right tools can help you to keep going and maintain a healthy balance between self and life, so here’s how to properly reset and restore:

take an “everything” shower. engaging in this beloved self care ritual is a good way to hit the reset button and restore you back to normal. everything showers can include washing and conditioning your hair, shaving, exfoliating, double cleansing. when you do each of these tasks, it’s helpful to visualize all your burdens being washed away as you cleanse your body. you’ll feel fresh, clean, and comfortable. an everything shower is a wonderful way to refresh both your body and mind in a physical yet healthy way.

create a short list of good habits. to reset and restore, aim to create a list of habits that will leave you feeling good. this can include engaging in daily yoga, having a brewed cup of coffee or herbal tea daily, reading for 30 mins each day, creating art, and these are just the basics. these habits can create a positive shift in your energy and lead you to full restoration and recovery.

exercise, exercise, exercise. physical activity is a great form of self care and a great way to avoid frequent stress. while resting is essential for recharging, it’s not good to just lay around and constantly soak up any misery. get up and take a walk, get fresh air and feel the sun, go for a 15 min jog or run, do yoga poses, at home pilates, or even attend your local gym. getting up and getting active is a healthy and enjoyable way to clear your mind and reset your body.

disconnect and digital detox. scrolling, scrolling, and more scrolling can cause your brain to feel too heavy for your head. social media and our phones are filled with so much information, memories, words, opinions, and much more. it’s almost impossible to not become overwhelmed. digital detoxing has always been my favorite ritual when resetting. instead of mindlessly being on your phone, disconnect from the world & do activities like, stargaze or watch the clouds pass, read books, rearrange your environment, cook a new recipe, create journal entries. these are all very simple things that can restore you greatly.

connect with those who mean the most to you. spending time with family, friends, pets, lovers can provide emotional support and strengthen your relationships with more love. open up to those you love and care about. be a listening ear for them as well. engage in meaningful conversations or even just sit in comfortable silence. doing this brings you back to your essence and provides a healthy restoration.

get enough sleep. quality sleep is crucial for your overall health in all life’s areas. establish a regular sleep schedule and create a relaxing bedtime routine to help you get enough sleep each night. lack of sleep can lead to mood swings and increased stress which may cause a burnout. prioritize your sleep and aim for 7-9 hours a night for a beautiful mind, body and spirit.

resetting and restoring is not just a luxury, it’s a necessity for living a balanced and fulfilling lifestyle. take care of yourself because it is the foundation for achieving your dreams and becoming the best version of yourself! 😊

892 notes · View notes

aeristudios · 9 months ago

Text

Legal Briefs

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lawyer!Dokyeom x fem!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pwp, corporate au, 18+, non-idol au 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, riding, unprotected sex, cream pie, pet names, slight exhibitionism, oral (m. receiving), clit stimulation, squirting 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.1k 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dokyeom is stressed out over his case, and you use your brain in more ways than one to help him relax.

AN: Thank you to @miabebe for beta reading this for me at the last minute and @miniseokminnies being lovely. This is a repost, as this fic was originally written for another idol. I have decided to edit it and make it fit Dokyeom more. I hope you enjoy it <3. Also, tagging @onlyseokmins because that's your man, duh, lol. If you want to be tagged in future fics, sign up here🤎

Dokyeom is one of the most prominent corporate lawyers in your country, and you understand how hard he works daily to maintain that reputation. You were a lawyer when you met him, so you know the ins and outs of the legalities and how stressful it can be defending clients. Your first time seeing him was at a kickboxing gym you both frequented and then on the opposite end of the court, duking it out to protect your clients involved in a breach of contract. You may have won that battle, but in the end, Dokyeom won your heart, and you left the corporate life behind to be a housewife.

You walk into the swanky thirty-floor office building, and the security guard greets you as you approach the elevator. You are holding Dokyeom’s favorite lunch, pizza with cheese sticks, secured in a heated lunch box. You also brought fruit and juice, which he has been into lately. It’s a nice day outside, and what would be better than spending lunch with your husband?

You hum your way up to the 20th floor, greeted by the receptionists as the elevator doors open. The anticipation is building, and the excitement and butterflies in your stomach are brewing as you make your way to his office. You speak to everyone that makes eye contact with you. Everyone knows you as the boss’s wife, a hotshot lawyer, giving it all up for love.

“Hi,” his secretary greets you nervously as you approach her desk. “He seems a bit stressed out today. That case with the pharmaceutical company isn’t going well, and I’m pretty sure I heard papers flying around.”

This concerns you, as it is different from Dokyeom to lose his cool like that. You thank her and tap quietly on the office door, waiting to hear his voice before entering.

“Yes?” His smooth voice makes your heart jump.

You open the door, and your eyes widen at the scene before you. There are papers and folders all over the floor. Dokyeom is lying on the sofa, his suit jacket covering his face and his arms folded on his chest.

“I take it you’re having a bad day?” You ask gently, setting the lunch down on his desk.

His face lights up when he lays his eyes on you, jacket falling to the floor as he jumps up to greet you.

“I wasn’t expecting you here,” he replies before getting up and kissing your cheek. “I would’ve cleaned up.”

“And miss all this drama?” you tease him. “Come on, I’ll help you put everything back.”

You survey the papers and put the files back in their folders. You know where everything goes because you helped him set up his file system to make his life easier. You may not be practicing law right now, but it doesn’t mean you haven’t had to use your expertise a few times to help your husband win a few cases. You initially quit your previous firm because you felt burnt out and needed a break. Then, when you got married, you wanted to spend time being a new wife and try for a family. Dokyeom supported you in all of that. He never made you feel inferior or less than for stepping away from your career to be at home. Now, it’s been two years, and the children haven’t come yet, but maybe it’s just not time, as lately, you have been missing practicing law.

Dokyeom helps you and profusely apologizes. “You don’t need to apologize,” you wave him off. But this is not like you; what happened?”

His expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. He takes a deep breath before putting the last envelope into the bookshelf.

“I am missing a critical piece of evidence, a part of a contract that proves my client’s innocence,” Dokyeom begins, clutching onto the desk. “I know who to subpoena, but the judge is being a real asshole and won’t allow me to access those documents. So my client might lose, and then they’ll drop me, which means bye to our house.”

He removes his tie and takes a sip from his water bottle, his Adam's apple shifting as he gulps. Your very frustrated husband is also very hot, and it’s taking all your willpower to stay on task.

“Listen,” you redirect your focus to his problem. “There’s no guarantee that you will lose this case, and we definitely are not losing our house. Why don’t you eat the lunch I brought, and we will figure it out, okay?”

He nods and kisses you on the forehead, his way of saying thank you that still makes you feel warm inside. You watch him take out his lunch, and you start to eat yours, making small talk about your day as you dig through the cheese sticks.

“When did you order this, babe?” Dokyeom asks, mouth stuffed with pepperoni and cheese. “You were cleaning up when I left for work.”

“I ordered it right before I came up here,” you say proudly, feeding him some of your pizza. “I got tired of eating lunch alone and wanted to see you. Looks like you needed me too.”

He gives you a kind smile that soothes your soul like a warm hug. You talk more about the case as you clear out your food containers. Dokyeom mentions that he has been trying to get the evidence to no avail for the past week. Watching him stressing himself out bothers you, as you know how hard he has worked on this case, and you want to see him succeed. His eyes were glued to the papers in front of him, skimming over everything to find a possible loophole. You can’t help but take in how handsome he looks, focused on his work, his jaw clenching as his frustration mounts.

So, you came up with an idea.

“Hey, babe,” you get his attention, removing your cardigan. “I’m going to help you relax, okay?”

He nods, his shoulders still tense up from reading over the paperwork. You move behind him, relaxing your hands on his shoulders before you massage them, making him feel more at ease. You start unbuttoning his shirt, reaching down to rub his chest while leaving kisses on his neck.

“Well, this is one way to do it,” Dokyeom hums, setting down his pen. He moves his head and kisses you deeply, his hands gracing your face softly, pulling you deeper into his rapture of love. You make a move to sit on his lap, taking off your tank top and exposing your favorite bra that pushes up your breasts just right.

“Was this always the plan?” He smirks, leaving kisses down your neck. His lips suck on your sweet-tasting skin, his tongue trailing down to the valley of your breasts.

“And if it was?” You move in front of him, sitting on his lap, and your skirt hikes over your hips. “What are you going to do about it?”

He chuckles and kisses you more, removing your bra and throwing it across the office. You lift and reach down, undoing his pants and lowering his briefs, feeling the growing bulge hardening along your slit. “No panties? Aw, baby…”

“What?” You smiled coyly. “Do you want me to leave? I can just get up—”

“W-what? No, no, it’s not that,” his cheeks turn pink in a panic. “I hate to rush, but I have to be in a meeting in twenty minutes,” Dokyeom’s breathing hitches as his hand touches his manhood, stroking his thick girth to your naked breasts and exposed ass. You lower yourself until you are on your knees, moving his hand away as you take over. You kiss his dick just the way he likes it, his legs tensing up as you take him in your mouth. His thickness takes over your mouth as you suck him good, your free hand playing with your clit as you watch him cock his head back and curse softly.

“Baby, you are so good at this,” he murmurs. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He gently fucks your face, pacing himself so he doesn’t blow his entire load down your throat. Your eyes lock with his as you take him in deeper, drops of saliva spilling out of the corner of your mouth. Dokyeom is ashamed to admit it, but he likes it when you look like this: the makeup on your sweet face ruined with tears because you sucked him off so well. You would never tell him this, but you love how he tastes. The way his smooth cock hits the back of your throat makes you dripping wet, and if you keep up any longer, you will cum on this floor.

“H-honey,” he sputters. “I have 15 minutes. Get on top.”

You slowly take him out of your mouth with a pop, lifting yourself and positioning yourself to sink into him. You both groan in unison when you are entirely on his lap, your nails digging into the armrest of his chair.

“This won’t take long, I promise,” you mutter, giving yourself a few seconds to get used to his size before slowly grinding on him and enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you. His body tenses at your movements and his fingers massage your clit softly. You unexpectedly let out a loud moan, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“I know this feels good, bouncing on my hard dick, but you are going to have to keep it down, princess,” he grits.

Dokyeom knows what that does to you, calling you princess as he fucks you into an earth-shattering orgasm. You’re a squirter, and he knows that, so it was unsurprising that your lower halves were covered with your essence. Your eyes never leave each other, whispering I love you and trading meaningful kisses. Dokyeom’s head rolls back, whispering songs of praise as you continue to ride him on his office chair.

“Baby, I’m close,” he whines, his hands gripping your hips. You grind on him hard, finding your clit and releasing again shortly after. Dokyeom follows right behind you, spilling deep inside of you as his head buries deep into your neck. As he slows down, he kisses you lovingly, making sure your cunt is full of his cum before pulling out. You're still trying to catch your breath when you climb off of him to clean yourself up.

“Mr Lee?” His secretary’s voice booms through the speaker, startling you both. “Your meeting starts in five minutes.”

“O-okay.”

You can see the time on his laptop, and the 5-minute reminder before the meeting stops flashing wildly on his screen. You find your bra and hurriedly put it on, with Dokyeom already dressed and holding your tank top and cardigan.

“What?” You catch him staring at you curiously.

“You are so bad.” “Well, isn’t that why you fell in love with me? Aside from me beating your ass in court, of course.”

You finish getting dressed, helping him put his tie back on, and kissing him goodbye before heading out the door. You catch a photo you missed picking up earlier, and something catches your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Babe.” You pick up the photograph and inspect it thoroughly. “What’s the name of the judge?”

“Judge Choi,” he responds, preparing himself for his meeting. “Why?”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the judge in the 17th court, would it?

You pull out your phone and look him up, confirming your suspicions.

“Okay, I know that look,” Dokyeom comments, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s up?”

“This judge used to give me shit when I was practicing, but I always found a way to get around him,” you start. “There was talk about him being a crooked judge and being paid off by companies, but I could never confirm it until now. Look at the picture.”

You show him the photograph of the rival company at an event, pointing at the missing piece of the puzzle: the judge and the company’s CEO, arm in arm, taking a picture. “That’s why the judge is shutting you down, babe,” you confirm. “He has ties to the other guys. Judge Choi should have recused himself a long time ago.”

Dokyeom looks at you, amazed that his wife could figure out why he had this roadblock. “God, what would I do without you?”

“You’d still be losing to me in court.” You kiss him goodbye again, letting him prepare to attend his meeting. You close the door, and his secretary smiles at you and motions for you to come closer to her.

“You should be more careful in there, dear,” she advises. “The whole office heard you.”

1K notes · View notes

madaqueue · 7 months ago

Text

CARVE ME UP AND EAT ME

there was almost no information on the mysterious cult nestled into the mountainside near your hometown, with even less knowledge about its leader. curiosity sets you on your path to investigate, but something else manages to keep you.

pairing: vampire!suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: dark content (dubcon). smut. cult leader suguru, blood drinking/feeding, like mind control-ish? idk i was making up vampire rules here, pet names (little lamb), fingering (reader receiving), p in v (missionary). 18+, MDNI (wk: 7.6k)

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for getting freaky with me this month, it's been such a blast and i love you all!!!! hope you get to dress up and have lots of yummy candy tonight :) mwah!!!!!

quintober masterlist | main masterlist

People rarely came back from the mountains.

When they did, they were…different. Months, even years having passed from their disappearance, and suddenly returning with no memory of it. As though their time away suddenly ceased to exist. They couldn’t recall what they had done, who they were with, anything that could help the townspeople pin down the mysterious group making their home in the depths of the woods.

Any efforts to catch the so-called cult were obviously futile - the town lost enough soldiers that the leaders decided it was pointless to send anymore sacrifices.

So, there was a sort of peace. Well, less peace, and more a silent war, a battle of contempt, one that left everyone on edge. Whenever someone went missing, the entire village stood on edge, waiting but never searching.

But you were trained well, oh so well.

“Never go out at night.” “Never stray from us.” “Never get lost.”

“Never go into the mountains.”

They praised you for your obedience, feeding it to you from dirtied palms, making you kneel before them to drink from it. It felt good to be good.

Obedience is strength.

Their orders pulled at the strings of your muscles, dictating your actions, your movements, your very thoughts. They pulled and pulled and pulled until you were stretched taut, desperately tightening you into a form they deemed desirable.

It was only a matter of time before the strings snapped.

The fight was blurry now, nothing more than screams and tears and broken expectations so sharp you worried you may cut yourself. Your feet hit the ground outside your parents’ home faster than you could breathe in the burning air, cold in your lungs.

You had always obeyed.

So now, perhaps you could enact your final act of disobedience. The one thing that had been taught to you so deeply until it buried itself under your skin.

The path up the mountain wasn’t nearly as dangerous as others made it seem. Truthfully, it was shockingly well-maintained, the occasional branch snapping under your feet but no other obstacles.

What could even be so bad about this place, anyways?

The people who returned were never injured, always fed and clean and cared for. They always came back in a fresh set of robes draped over their skin, no signs of markings or damage painted across their bodies.

The options weighed heavy on your tongue. Either you’d reach the cult’s temple, or you’d die trying.

Either way, you’d be acting on your own. You’d be independent, free. With an exhale, you blew the remaining obedience into dust, joining the stars sparkling overhead.

The moon seemed pleased with your choice, at least, guiding your path clearly through the woods. Whenever the ground below your feet disappeared, you knew you had misstepped, returning easily to the worn-in gravel placed along the way. Eventually, the trees became sparse, no longer guarding you from whatever lays ahead.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust before focusing on the building before you, a gentle glow illuminating the temple through its exterior screens. It was certainly different than you imagined, expecting high stone barriers walling off a great fortress, leaving you to wonder: could masses of soldiers truly not pierce the paper screens protecting this deadly palace?

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel welcomed; it was unimposing, the warm lights flickering inside a definite sign of life. How many people call this their home? How many people serve here?

The wooden steps leading to the entrance creak slightly below your weight, palm hesitantly resting on the sliding door. Doubt flashes across your mind, the pull of your family threatening to tug you back home - should you turn around, forget this silly stunt and return to the life you had known?

Before you can move, the screen slides open in your grasp.

“Do come in,” a soft voice calls from inside as light floods your vision.

Your weight makes you stumble forward as your feet move on their own, carrying you into the room. It’s nice inside, the smell of sage lingering in the air as you make your way to the center. Before you is a man, his green and gold robes hanging loosely from his shoulders, the bare skin covered only by inky locks cascading down his back. His position looks almost leisurely as he kneels, his eyes scanning your figure.

“Sit.”

And you do - your knees buckle as you lower yourself to the ground.

A devilish grin spreads across his lips as he follows your motions. For a moment, his gaze locks on yours, deep purple eyes staring back.

“Quite an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” he purrs.

Air rushes into your lungs through a gasp, but you can’t stop the muscles in your neck from nodding.

What the fuck is happening? Why can’t you control your body?

As fear begins to course through your nerves, the stranger in front of you lets out a breathy giggle. “Good, that’s very good,” he muses.

When he rises to stand, your heart drops as you realize just how deeply you may have fucked up. He’s tall, easily towering over you. The bottom of his robes graze the floor as he circles you quietly - no, silently.

The sound of his humming vibrates in the air - you want to look at him, monitor him for any malicious intent, but you can’t bring yourself to turn your head.

When he’s completed his course around you, he returns to his seat on the floor. Perching himself on the balls of his feet, he leans forward. Cold fingers wrap around your face, pushing your cheeks together as he easily maneuvers you in his grasp. His eyes burn your skin as you realize:

He’s inspecting you.

With a pleased huff he releases your head, settling back across from you. That same smirk rests across his lips as he speaks. “Tell me, why did you come here, little lamb?”

The sound of your voice hits the air before you realize it’s yours. “I ran away.”

“Oh?” With a tilt of his head, his eyes crease. “Well then, I suppose you’ve found your new home. Welcome.”

Silently, he rises once more. This time, he extends a pale hand out to you. “I can show you to your room, if you’d like.”

At his words, the tendons within your body relax, more at ease. Finally under your own control, you raise a hesitant arm. Is this what you want?

Your palm rests lightly upon his.

He smiles.

“Good choice,” he whispers as you rise to your feet.

The temple’s grounds are beautiful, even in the dark. Flickering candlelight lines the stone paths as you walk through tended gardens, over wooden bridges and small streams. He guides you to a house near the back, tucked safely into the mountainside.

The paper slide shudders as it opens, revealing the outline of a bed covered in crisp white sheets.

“You can sleep here tonight. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to call for me,” he informs you, each syllable floating through the night air.

With one swift motion he turns, returning down the path you came from.

“Wait!” you call - as the command settles, you sheepishly cross your hands. Dark hair falls over his shoulder as he turns to face you. “How…how will I find you?”

His eyes close as he laughs. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll find you.” And with that, he disappears into the darkness.

–

The sun rises hesitantly here. It peeks its head through the translucent screens, barely illuminating your room enough to rouse you. When you finally wake, your thoughts swirl in confusion for a moment - where are you? what happened? - before you remember the previous night, the path beneath the watchful moon, the man who led you here.

Despite the unfamiliar environment, the warnings carved into your skin about the dangers of this place, you can’t bring yourself to feel afraid - after all, if he wanted to hurt you, he surely would have by now, right?

There’s an ache in your muscles as you stretch your arms overhead, bare feet resting upon the wooden floor, cool from the morning air. Idle hands begin searching the room as you open the hand-carved drawers, the scent of pine still lingering on them.

In the first, you find fresh sets of sheets. Below that, cleanly folded towels.

Moving to the next chest, your eyes widen as you scan its contents. Inside lie beautiful silks in every shade - your palms run over blues that mirror the sea, pinks the color of sunrise, greens brought from the forest floor. Each one feels more extravagant than the last, and as your awe clears, you suddenly feel ashamed to be holding them. They slip through your fingers as you shy away in embarrassment, your dirtied skin unworthy of touching them. They aren’t yours, after all - you’re nothing more than a guest here.

Turning to the closet nearby, you swing open the heavy doors, only to be met with even more luxury, this time robes hanging in neat rows.

You shouldn’t take them, but then again, the man did say anything you needed was yours…and you could use a new set of clothes after your travels last night…

Hesitantly, you pull one of the kimonos from the rack - in your hands, it catches the morning sun, small threads of gold reflecting across the room interwoven with the purple cloth. Sliding into it, you can’t help but notice the way it fits you perfectly, the length extending to just above your ankles, the sleeves resting gently along your wrists.

It feels foreign on your skin, surely you look like a fool, nothing more than a child trying on their parent’s work clothes. Glancing around the room, you search for a mirror to confirm your suspicions, but none seem to catch your eye. Oh well, you sigh, you’ll just have to face everyone looking like a stranger.

Stepping outside, a cool breeze brushes past your cheeks, your arms wrapping the robes tighter around your body as you fight off a shiver. It must be colder at this altitude, no longer afforded the protection of the very mountain you now reside on.

Small pebbles crunch beneath your feet as you make your way along the temple grounds. You try to retrace the path you took from the main house last night, but it quickly proves useless, your memory already foggy. Maybe it just looks different during the day?

Nevertheless, you don’t mind being lost here - the area is truly beautiful. Flowers fill the green spaces, ones you’d never seen before, shades of purple and red dotting the meadows. In the distance, tall trees poke against the horizon, leaves dancing in the wind.

As you wander, you pass identical buildings to the one you stayed in last night. Had you walked past all of these on your way there? Surely you would have remembered them, right?

This time, of course, the lights inside are off. There’s no use for them under the sun that’s now settling into the sky above. There are fewer clouds up here, you realize, perhaps another effect of the altitude.

By the time you find your way back to your new home (only able to identify it by the screen door left ajar), darkness has begun growing along the grounds, insects chirping their nighttime songs from nearby trees.

Sliding your shoes off, the smell of something tantalizing hits your senses.

You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until you’re suddenly faced with the most delicious looking meal sitting upon the table. Steam rises from the bowl of salty broth, and for a moment you overlook the fact that someone must have been here to deliver it as you hurriedly shuffle to sit down, scooping noodles into your mouth with the chopsticks resting nearby. Finally, the ache in your stomach eases as you slurp the remaining liquid, allowing it to practically dribble down your chin.

A long shadow is suddenly cast along your room from behind you.

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying dinner.”

Your spine shoots straight up as you turn, wiping your face with the back of a suddenly clammy palm.

“Y-yes,” you stutter, attempting to hide the utter lack of manners in how you had ravenously consumed the meal.

The man from last night stands in your doorway, leaning against the frame as he crosses his arms. That same smirk spreads across his features.

“Thank you!” you suddenly blurt, aware of your impoliteness. “It was…very good. Thank you.”

Another light chuckle dances across the air. “Please, no need for formalities. I’m simply glad you are enjoying the food. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had to make something for someone other than myself.”

Questions lie along the tip of your tongue, but before they can escape, he turns with a wave. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Wait!” You internally curse yourself again for the interruption, but one question in particular was burning its way through your throat. “I realized I never learned your name…”

“Oh,” he smiles through thin lips. “My name is Suguru, but most call me Master Geto. You can choose whatever name you like.”

Warmth floods your face at the title, and further at his informality. “O-okay.”

With another small flick of his wrist, he continues the path away from your room. “Anyways, goodnight,” he calls into the darkness ahead.

“Goodnight, Master Geto,” you murmur to yourself.

–

Your second day is all too similar.

You wake.

You dress.

You wander.

You eat.

This time, Master Geto does not stop by your room at all. You’re beginning to wonder what he does all day - hell, you’re beginning to wonder what anyone here does all day, not having seen a single other person.

All that free time leaves you to fester on your thoughts.

When you were a child, you heard the rumors of this place. At first, it was a sort of commune, a community where disillusioned and lost souls could go to find purpose. But when they stopped coming back, the stories twisted into more sinister adaptations. It was a religious group, who worshiped their leader as a false god. Then, it was a sex cult, who offered their bodies to him as a form of salvation. After that, it was a political power who strove to overtake all of society and enact his rules as law.

Time after time, story after story, it was always him at the forefront: some mysterious man who cornered and compelled his followers to obey.

And yet, you find yourself doubting it. How could he lead if he was never present? More than that, who could he lead if there were no loyal servants here to be led?

It didn’t add up.

The townsfolk were known for fear mongering - perhaps it was nothing more than a way to avoid losing any more citizens, to prevent them, too, from joining the strange man in the mountains.

But then again, you can’t quite shake the power you felt radiating from him when you were in that room, the way he so easily manipulated your body (and your thoughts) with nothing more than his words.

The thoughts string together in your mind as you pace the temple grounds during your walks, the only routine grounding you to the passage of time.

Today the sun struggles to shine through the clouds, a general greyness cast upon everything. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’ve barely seen him at all. Occasionally he’ll stop by your room, but only hover in the doorway, never entering. His voice always seems so calm when he speaks to you, offering simple observations about your meals, as though he was slowly investigating your preferences (not that he needed to - you were grateful simply to be fed - but he persisted nonetheless).

Tonight, you return to find the entrance to your room closed, the candlelight from inside casting a welcoming glow. As you slide the shoji open, a familiar scent fills the space. Your mouth waters as your feet carry you forward on instinct.

With the first bite from the bowl, you nearly moan in pleasure at the taste.

“Is it good?”

This time, you don’t jump at his silent approach. Glancing over your shoulder, you smile through a full mouth. “It’s incredible.”

“Good,” he laughs softly, “I’m glad. I was worried it wouldn’t be as good as you remembered.”

“Master Geto,” you swallow, “this is delicious.” Through another bite, your voice lowers, “It’s just like the oyakodon my parents used to make.”

“I know.”

The statement catches you momentarily off-guard, questions catching in your throat making you nearly choke.

He senses the change immediately as your shoulders close off, confusion building behind your eyes. “I apologize if I overstepped,” he begins, uncrossing his arms and allowing them to hang loosely by his sides in the slightly oversized robes, “I remembered that dish being popular in town, so I thought it might bring some comfort.”

“Oh,” you hum, tentatively chewing another bite. It’s a reasonable explanation, you suppose, even if it leaves more uncertainty swirling in your lungs.

After a moment of silence, his presence in your doorway begins to feel…awkward.

Normally by this point he’d have left with a wave, fading into the darkness outside. But not tonight. Tonight, he stays, swaying slightly within the entrance.

As your gaze covers him, the traditional robes remind you - perhaps you were being even more rude than you expected. You still knew very little about him, but maybe he abided by more traditional laws, one that forbade a man from entering a woman’s sleeping quarters without her permission.

(You always thought those rules were a bit silly, but now was not the time for debate - now was the time to learn more about the man lingering outside.)

“Would you like to come in?” You place the question into the air as you swallow the final piece of your dinner.

His grin threatens to tear across his cheeks as he nods politely. “Of course.”

As he approaches the table inside, his presence suddenly feels overwhelming. Even though he’s not physically much larger than you, something about him suffocates the space, his soul spreading out until there’s no room left. It’s stifling.

But when he sits across from you, it gets sucked back into himself. You can breathe again.

“How is the temple?” he asks easily.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse, “but…where is everyone?”

“Everyone?” He cocks his head to the side. “Oh! You mean the others. They aren’t particularly active during the day - you know how hot it gets here.”

In an instant, it feels right - the memories of the brisk mornings become hazy in your mind, replaced with the sun beaming overhead. Maybe you even returned to your room with sweat glistening along your skin after a particularly long walk.

Suguru notices the way your vision clouds over as the experiences rewrite themselves. If you were more present, perhaps you’d be able to decode the emotion flashing across his face as his nose scrunches and eyebrows furrow.

He stands suddenly, pulling you from your internal trance.

“Well, I suppose I should be going now,” he hums, gliding seamlessly to the doorway once again. “Goodnight.”

Before you can breathe a question, he’s gone, the rattling screen door the only proof of his existence.

–

You think you’re going insane here.

When you fled, you wanted to find something exciting, a new experience, an act of defiance. You wanted something to fill the emptiness in your soul and make you into something else, someone stronger, someone braver, someone more than the obedient little girl you left behind.

But now, with every repeated step through the temple grounds, you feel yourself collapsing inwards. The support beams inside you aren’t strong enough, cracking under the weight of loneliness.

Why wasn’t anyone here?

Why wasn’t anyone helping you?

Even Master Geto’s presence became desired, in spite of the slight unease that brewed within your stomach when he was around. It was like an addiction, as though he knew just how to feed you enough of him to keep you coming back, to keep you starving.

Ironic, isn’t it? That here, in a place with all your needs met, with delicious meals and extravagant clothes and plush beds, you find yourself destitute. Hunger pangs shoot up your chest as you eat alone, the robes begin stifling each breath, too hot even as the days grow colder. Every night you become increasingly acquainted with the wooden beams drawn above your bed.

You’re empty.

On your thirty-first night, after hours laying alone in the dark, you wonder if perhaps the moon would have any advice for you. She’s always watched over you, maybe she could guide you.

Outside, the gravel shifts beneath your feet. The candles are lit once again, lining the paths throughout the grounds. You’ve never seen anyone light them, and yet every night, their flames continue to burn (not that you need them, of course - you’ve grown accustomed to this place, steps tracing it like palm lines).

So you trust your legs when they carry you forward. Until you’re once again at the entrance of the main temple, the same warmth flickering from inside.

The door slides open easily, the hesitation that used to live in your muscles now replaced with tired indignation. You no longer have to wait for Master Geto’s command to enter (even though you want it, you want it so badly, to be told what to do and where to go and how to act and what to think until you’re nothing but his little puppet because then at least you could be something).

A part of you expected him to be in his chambers given the late hour. But a more possessive part hopes he’d be here, waiting for you.

Your lungs breathe a sigh of relief as you feel his gaze. He smiles as you stand in the doorway.

“What’s my little lamb doing up so late?” he coos, beckoning you inside.

Rubbing your eyes, you take your seat on the floor next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

It’s been some time since you’ve been here, you realize - perhaps since the first night you arrived - but it feels comfortable, the scent of smoke lingering in the air. And Master Geto is here, too - that surely helps.

“I see. Tell me, would you like me to make you some tea?”

Your head nods on its own, perhaps an effect of your recent insomnia.

Silently, he rises, moving easily through the room to collect his arsenal. Armed with a maroon teapot and a single cup, he returns to where you rest in the center of the room. Dark liquid pours into the mug before he places it in front of you.

The first sip burns your tongue slightly, but you avoid wincing - you wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful. You wouldn’t want to push him away.

Deep eyes watch your every move, drinking you in. That quiet discomfort is back, but you shove it down with a forceful swallow. After all, if you seem distrustful, it may make him unhappy, or worse, leave you. After so long without him, you’re content to sit under his blanket of silence.

“How are you enjoying your time here?”

Your throat catches for a moment. Should you tell him it’s killing you, eating you alive and breaking you down? Should you tell him how much you’ve missed him? No - surely he’d think you strange, you barely know each other despite the time you’ve spent here.

“It’s been…comfortable.”

He tilts his head through a thoughtful hum. He allows the quiet to choke you for a moment before he continues. “And yet, you’re here at this hour. Tell me, why?”

Your lips are moving on your own, fighting against your better interest. “I’ve missed you, Master Geto.”

“Oh?” He seems pleased with your response, letting out that tantalizing little chuckle. “What is it about me you’ve missed?”

This time, you’re able to stifle your voice before it betrays you. Through another sip, you let the words simmer on your tongue before he speaks again-

“Tell me.”

“I missed being told what to do,” you blurt, nearly spilling the tea that had been resting behind your lips.

Thin lips tug into a smirk as he eyes you, and you can’t help but feel you’ve answered correctly, even if it was against your will.

That fear bubbles inside your chest once again, but this time it’s tainted with something else, something hot. Something you would be tempted to call desire.

Adjusting his weight, muscled legs sprawl before him. “Come here, little lamb,” he purrs.

So easily he pulls your strings. In an instant you’re crawling towards him, until you’ve settled upon his lap, head resting on his shoulder. Perhaps a month ago you would have been scared at how easily he maneuvers you to his will, but after countless days left with only your own thoughts to drive you, it’s a welcome reprieve. A body is a heavy thing to carry alone; there’s no harm in letting someone else borrow it for a moment.

Slender fingers card through your hair, melting you beneath his touch. Until all that’s left is a fluid form in the outline of your flesh; it makes it all the more easy to shape that way.

“You must be tired, poor thing,” Suguru hums into the crown of your head.

“Mmm,” you hum in response, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Go on then, sleep.”

And your vision melts into his darkness.

–

When you wake, everything feels stiff. The room, your body, the blankets cocooned around you. Stale air sits in your lungs as you rise from the bed.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, landing on wood floors and drawn shades. Everything is covered in a fine layer of dust except you, the only living thing here.

Nothing moves except for your breathing, no sounds besides the mattress creaking as you stand. Your thighs are tense, aching with each step forward. At least your robe is comfortable, even if it’s not the one you remember falling asleep in.

That memory itself feels fuzzy - how long had you been here?

But the slippers on your feet are warm, and you don’t feel that gnawing ache inside your stomach anymore. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.

Sliding the bedroom door open, you wander into the hallway. At the end, flickering candlelight casts a glow across the familiar carpet, the same as in the main building. Oranges and greens blur in your vision as you make your way to it, and your heart picks up its pace as you walk, drawing you in.

It lurches when you see him.

Master Geto.

“You’re finally awake, my little lamb.” His voice is smooth like silk, softer than the sheets that had cradled you as you slept. “Come in.”

The room is beautiful, dark reds and browns lining every surface, especially the bed he lays upon. The material is cool on your skin, flushed from sleep.

“You slept for quite a while,” he hums, beginning to slowly run his fingers over your hair. “Do you feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Why thank me?”

“I think…I think it was because of you.” The sentence trails up at the end, leaving it a question. One he does not decide to answer.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Master Geto.”

His lips spread into a smile as he rises, silently moving to the teapot resting in the corner. With his back momentarily to you, it’s easier to remember all the questions you ought to ask - how long was I asleep for? where is everyone? why am I here?

But they’re too overwhelming, too big. You aren’t sure he’d answer them, anyways - you aren’t sure you’d want an answer. It’s easier to not ask.

“I’m not sure I should stay here anymore.”

His shoulders stiffen, just enough that the tea nearly spills over the edge of the cup. He sets it down on the table beside you.

“And why is that?”

“I just…” you trail off, holding the mug in your hands. It’s warm, making your palms itch. “I’m not sure there’s anything for me to do here.”

“You keep me company. Is that not enough?”

“It is, but I just…I guess I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job.” It’s easier to speak when you only have to face the steaming liquid held in your lap. “I feel lost without you. I don’t know what to do with my time. I mostly just wander around and hope I see you, or hope you give me something to do. I like that, but I’m not even doing anything. You’re never around during the day anyways, so then I end up festering with my thoughts and just feel worse. I’m losing my mind here.”

A slender finger traces up your neck, tilting your chin so you’re forced to look at him. His eyes hold a dark ice behind them, the kind that would slice open ships and kill sailors in the middle of the night, the kind the sea only makes when it’s craving blood.

“You have a purpose here, little lamb, you just can’t see it.”

You can’t hold his gaze, so you allow it to fall to the pink and red of his lips. “Then tell me what it is! I want to do something, please Master Geto.” Nails leave crescent-shaped marks in your skin as you grip the teacup.

“I can’t tell you, not yet.”

“Either tell me, or I’m leaving.”

You aren’t sure where the words came from, but they shock you as they land. Perhaps some deep part of your soul, some part the moon uncovered on your walk to the temple, growing brighter under her protection.

Fire, then ice flares behind him. He forces his shoulders back, cooling his tone. “Why don’t you drink some tea and calm down a bit, then we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want your tea! I want to know what’s going on!”

“I said, drink.”

The muscles in your arms tighten to bring the cup to your mouth. Liquid is forced past your lips through a choke. It burns your throat.

Once it’s empty, you drop it, the mug clanging against the floor. Tears prick the corners of your eyes in pain, and Master Geto seems tense. Lowering himself to the ground, he gingerly picks up the cup, allowing his palm to graze yours as he rises. Silently, he glides to the corner of the room where steam rises from the still-full teapot.

With everything in you, you force your mouth to move. “How do you do that?” Your voice is hoarse.

“Do what?”

“That,” you stumble, trying to explain. “Make me…do things.”

Six seconds pass before he answers.

“Do you know what obedience means?”

You nod.

“Tell me, what does it mean to you?”

“It means to do as another person says, always.”

Glancing at you from over his shoulder, his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Exactly.” He pours more liquid into your cup, a silent apology in his own misshapen way. “Some must be trained into obedience through leashes and chains, but others are born for it, their souls a softer shape, one that’s easier to mold.”

The mug is warm in your hands as your fingers wrap around the ceramic, accepting it from his grasp.

“Someone like you, for example, was made to obey. You feel it, don’t you? That emptiness when you aren’t being commanded?”

As you nod, something inside you aches, a hole where your autonomy should be. And here is Master Geto, so kindly offering to fill it.

“That makes it all the more effortless to follow someone, you see. I can sense it, the way your body practically begs me to control it.” He explains it easily with a wave of his hand, as though a few sentences could make you understand.

And yet, you do. It feels right to be led by him, molded by him, controlled by him. It’s the comfort you’ve felt, the warmth that clouds your thoughts whenever you’re near him.

“Is that…is that what I’m doing here?” A large hand reaches over to rub slow circles into your back through the robe - his robe, you now realize. “I’m here to follow orders and do whatever you say?”

“No, no, not at all.” A sound close to a laugh brushes through his throat at the thought. “You’re here for something else.”

You finish the second cup of tea - it’s easier to drink now that your throat has already been burned. “Please, tell me why. I promise not to leave, please, Master Geto.”

Dark eyes fall to the empty cup in your hands, then back to you. So powerless in his grasp, the smell of him lingering on your clothes, on your skin, on your breath. An impossible scent to lose, even if you were to run.

“Do you know what a vampire is?”

Confusion swirls in your mind at the question. “Yes? I’ve heard of them, of course. Creatures who live forever and drink blood to survive, right?”

“Exactly,” he smiles, voice smooth like the silk wrapping around your body. “There are other components too, of course. Other powers. The commands, for example. And you’ve heard of those coming back from my temple, yes? How they return with no recollection of their time here?”

“Yes.”

“They were ones who ran - who I allowed to run, of course. They didn’t please me, or they were too weak to keep my company. But as you can imagine, I couldn’t allow them to tell others of what they had seen here, regardless of how stupid some of them may have been. So, they may survive, but the memories must go. And that’s just a fraction of what I’m capable of.” His words rise and fall in pitch, the most visible sign of excitement you’ve ever seen in him, before it flattens again. “Many think vampires are dangerous, but they aren’t, not if they’re able to control themselves. It’s a matter of obedience, you see.”

“Obedience,” you whisper into the empty space.

“If one can stay in control of their desires, it’s barely any different than how a human lives.”

Your hands fiddle with the hem of the robe, teeth chewing on your lip. “Why are you telling me this, Master Geto?”

The finger on your chin trails up until his hand rests upon your cheek. When your eyes finally meet his, he smiles, a gesture you don’t return. Your heart beats loud, pulling you into him.

“You know why.”

And you feel it, in the depths of your stomach. The true weight of his horror, his power, settles like obsidian in your chest. A cough stifles from your mouth from the coal-black dust inside you.

His thumb runs over your lips, pressing down on the plump flesh. You should run, you should scream and beg for help and go back to your parents and pretend this never happened. You aren’t safe here, you shouldn’t stay a moment longer.

All your body can do is quicken your pulse, thrumming up your neck.

Your lips part. His thumb slides past them.

When he smiles, he seems pleased, and you feel warm like the tea spreading through your muscles with each breath. Flickering candlelight casts a shadow across his eyes, and they seem to glow with hunger.

“Are you scared?”

His skin tastes sweet as it settles on your tongue. You slowly shake your head, humming a soft, “No.”

A twitch of a smirk plays across his lips. He didn’t even have to compel you. They spread wider, allowing sharp, whitened fangs to poke through. Your eyes widen and pupils dilate as they dig into his lower lip, red blooming beneath the skin.

“You should be.” He’s leaning forward, until he’s so close you block the light from cascading across his face. In the shadows of your body, he looks monstrous, all flashes of black and white. “And yet, you stay. Tell me, why? What could you possibly hope to achieve?”

Air rushes through your lungs, and the words tumble out in a single breath. “I want to obey you, Master Geto.”

Tilting his head to the side, dark bangs obscure his eyes.

“Ah, I understand now. You really were made for this, weren’t you?”

Sliding his thumb from your mouth, he closes the distance between you. A long finger tilts your chin upwards, locking your gaze on him.

“You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

You nod. You can’t help it - you want to do anything he tells you; you will do anything he tells you.

“Good.” Pink lips brush against yours. His breath is cool as he whispers, “Then lay down.”

The sheets are chilled against your burning skin as your back rests upon them. It’s easier, now, the way you’ve accepted your muscles enacting his will. It feels right to let him pull your strings, letting him shape you into whatever pose he sees fit.

He doesn’t even need to command you to open your legs, large palms spreading your knees apart easily, allowing them to fall with the weight of his gravity. Your clothes are gone in an instant, laid bare before him, returned to your natural form before the god that granted it. It’s only natural.

Hot breath hits your core, cold eyes resting on your face. His thumb trails a path along your skin until it lands upon your clit, each slow circle another rotation around his orbit.

It’s almost too much, your body writhing under his touch, desperation making your hips rut uselessly into him. But he’s just…watching you.

“P-please,” you can’t help but whine, trying to grind into him for any additional ounce of friction. Master Geto simply continues his agonizingly slow pace.

Your gaze meets his for a moment, fire crackling beneath it as his lips tug into a sinister grin, a predator about to consume its prey.

Eat me, your body begs, I’m yours.

Oh, he knows.

His palm opens, sliding two fingers easily into your cunt. Just as he curls upwards, sharp teeth move from poking through his lip into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. For the violence crackling beneath his skin, he’s surprisingly gentle as his canines sink into you.

Because he doesn’t want it to hurt.

Not yet.

The prickling pain tingles your senses as he pulls your first orgasm from you, a faint moan humming in your throat.

When he rises from between your legs, red dribbles from his lips. He crackles with pride, completely unabashed; if anything, he’s proud.

Warmth blankets your body as he crawls on top of you, a wolf stalking a lamb. And you can’t bring yourself to run.

Muscled shoulders bare themselves under the flickering lights as he slowly sheds his robes, pale and morphing, too blurry to focus on. If you were more naive, you’d be tempted to call him an angel.

“You taste so sweet,” he purrs, his face now mere centimeters from yours.

When he kisses you, a mix of metal and cum tangles on your tongues, intoxicatingly you. Every ounce of his weight rests against you until you can’t pull in a breath anymore, your ribs unable to expand below him.

But like always, he grants you mercy.

He pulls back, just enough to let air rush in through your parted lips. Your skin burns where he places a gentle peck to the corner of your mouth.

Because now, you want it to hurt.

And oh, he knows.

That devilish smile curls upon his lips, no longer hiding the fangs behind it. Every beat of your heart makes you dizzy, your vision pulsing with each reverberating thrum. You wonder if he can feel it in your chest.

(He can.)

(He wants to claw it from your body and eat it.)

The remnants of blood lingering on his teeth are wiped away as his tongue swipes over them, an innocent white left in its wake. How perfect a sinner’s body can be.

He’s shifting his weight above you, but you barely notice, too enamored by him, too lost in his eyes, in his depravity. The moment your eyes flutter shut to protect your soul, he’s reaching out to you.

“Look at me, little lamb.”

And then, your gaze is locked on him.

And then, his cock is pressing into you.

Lips part, fire shoots up your spine, a cry dies in your throat. It’s burning and tearing and it’s death and everything is too hot and you’re staring into those eyes with flames behind them and you think you’d let him kill you if he asked.

Not that he needs to ask, of course.

Your back arches off the bed as your eyes nearly roll back into your head but they can’t - because it’s not what Master Geto commanded. Because you always do as he says.

Because you always obey.

Instead, tears prick at the corners and your entire body trembles and he’s staring down at you with pity.

“There, shh, that’s my girl,” he coos. He wipes away a tear with his thumb but he doesn’t stop, not until his pelvis is flush with yours and all you can feel is him inside you.

Ragged breaths rack your core, your walls clenching around him from his size alone.

“You’re being so obedient, so good,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. And the sun bursts through your chest.

A slack-jawed smile spreads across your features at his praise, cheeks warm and full of pride. You’ve done everything you were made for - you’ve made Master Geto happy. You’ve been good.

When he drags his hips from you, his tip catching and pulling and gouging any remaining shred of disloyalty from your consciousness, you know you’re his: your mind, your soul, your body. All his, in any way he wants it.

When he thrusts back into you, the emptiness inside you is filled with him.

Him.

Him. Him. Him. Him.

Master Geto.

All you have ever needed.

All you will ever need.

Master Geto.

Warmth blossoms in your chest as he fucks you into the silk sheets. You are his. You were always made to be his. There’s no pain in it, no uncertainty. It’s as things were always meant to be.

But there’s still something missing, something lingering in the droplet of red beading at the corner of his lips.

Eat me, your body pleads, I’m yours.

“Master Geto,” you whimper, “I…I want…”

As he gazes down at you, there’s a reverence behind it - not to you, no, but to your servitude.

“Yes, my little lamb,” he breathes through the sound of skin against skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“Bite me, Master Geto,” you cry, “please.”

And you feel him laugh, his breath hot against the skin of your neck. “Well, how could I deny my most devoted?”

First, it’s the searing pain of his fangs sinking into your skin. An instant later, it’s the burning pleasure of it.

A moan bubbles from your throat, allowing your head to fall back into his waiting palm, cradling you above the respite of feathered pillows. Because for now, he will hold you; you should be held by him.

Suguru is greedy as he drinks.

Grunts and groans echo from his chest, his body never stilling as he plunges in and out of you in pace with his tongue lapping at your pierced flesh. Just as his teeth pull away he strikes them into you again, and again, and again. Puncture wounds grow across your skin, blooming hues of maroon beneath them, stars decorating the sky, each one a burning supernova moments away from exploding.

They mark you for what you are: his.

“You taste,” he pants, “fucking devine.”

Nails claw at his back, your head lolled back into the sheets, limp beneath him. Of course, you’d move if he told you to - you’d die if he told you to.

Each racing heartbeat makes your vision pulse, head swimming as he drinks from you. Your body melts inside him, warm in his stomach.

The friction of his hips between your legs only grows, until it’s burning like the teeth in your neck. Red flames prick your skin, Suguru’s tongue chasing each one to put it out.

His grunts grow animalistic, a beast pulling muscles and tendons until it’s out of breath. Shoulders tense beneath your palms, and your stomach begins to tighten.

“Master Geto, I-”

“I know,” he growls into your neck. Arms tighten around your body, until they cage in your ribs, until you can’t breathe anything but him. “Cum for me, little lamb.”

Warmth floods your senses, numb save for his cock twitching. He bites down harder as his claim shoots into you, thick and hot.

For a moment, you wonder if he tore flesh from bone. When he removes his head from your collarbone, blood dripping down his chin in thick rivulets, it seems all the more possible.

Licking his lips, he groans at the sanguine flavor pouring down his throat, sweet like honey. When he kisses you, his tongue presses against yours until it lingers in the back of your mouth. Sweet like him.

Low eyes meet yours, a thumb stroking your cheek.

“Stay here, with me.”

And maybe, you will.

It’s easier like this, to be his.

It’s easier to obey.

660 notes · View notes

loafgeto · 1 year ago

Text

FANTASIZE — 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. gojo satoru

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ having sexual fantasies about your landlord seems illegal, but what can you do when it’s gojo satoru?

⌗contents ⤥ fem!reader, she/her pronouns, explicit language used, landlord!gojo, no curses au, gojo and reader are in their 20’s (range not specified), masturbation (gojo catches you), pussy hungry gojo, oral, unprotected p in v sex, orgasms, creampie, deep penetration, pet names, not proofread

⌗wordcount ⤥ 4.7k

⌗notes ⤥ i literally thought abt this while on the toilet

finally, after a long and exhausting shift, you finally arrived back home. you were standing outside of the gates that lead into the apartment complexes, showing the security guard your identification before being allowed inside. you were tired and hungry, thinking about what to cook once you got into your home.

just as you’re reaching your apartment complex, you pass through the play area built for the children, and you notice a tall, white-haired man standing by a bench while a young child is running around with another on the playground. your heart stops when you realize it’s your landlord, gojo satoru.

while he was on the phone, you notice another man sitting on the bench, his dark hair nearly blending in with the night. you gulped, hoping to walk by without getting caught by either of them. why? because— you haven’t paid your last months rent.

you promised satoru you’d pay, but the next rent payment was due in a week and you hadn’t even sent him money. satoru didn’t bother with it during the first two weeks, however— he became impatient and was slowly demanding you pay the rent. even the co-landlord, suguru, was reminding you but rather, in a more gentle manner.

as you quietly passed by, one of the children spotted your presence. “oh! miss [name]!” the young megumi shouts out, putting the unwanted attention onto you.

oh… megumi, why?! you cursed mentally at yourself and made a quick hesitating expression before forcing a sweet smile and turning around. by that time, megumi and the other child, yuji, had jumped off the playground to greet you. they both approached you with their cute giggles, each hugging one of your legs. “megumi, yuji! what are you guys doing out here?”

“gojo and geto-san let us play outside for a little bit!” megumi answers when looking up at you. nodding, you glance at the two other men, who were deliberately surveying you— especially satoru. you clear your throat and look down at the two kids again.

“can we come to your house on saturday, miss [name]? i wanna bake cookies and watch pokemon again!” yuji questions, jumping up and down slightly.

“o-of course.. just make sure you guys get permission from your dad’s!” you reply, maintaining your smile as they pushed themselves off your legs. “i have to get home super quick now, ‘kay? just let me know by tomorrow.”

“okay, miss [name]!” they both cheered happily at the same time before scurrying back to the two men.

therefore, you took that as an opportunity to leave quickly and back to your apartment. when you arrived, you quickly unlocked the door and entered, nearly sinking to the ground. a smile slowly crept on your face and you slipped off your shoes before walking further into your home.

you glanced at the ground, noticing your broken vase was still scattered to pieces. you sigh, remembering your purse accidentally knocked it over and since you were rushing to work, you decided to clean it up once you got home. grabbing a broom from the kitchen, you swept it to the side by the wall, figuring you would gather it into the trash later.

after changing into something more comfortable, you went to brush your teeth and get ready for the night. a smile was still on your face, and well, the reason was simply because of satoru.

three months ago, you were apartment hunting after saving so much money— one of your work friends suggested you to tour an apartment from a landlord named gojo satoru.

the apartments he owned were absolutely marvelous and in your price range. but what even tempted you to sign rental agreement was satoru himself. he was someone everyone wanted: he had handsome features, a perfect build, an alluring voice, and most all, earned loads of money. to others, it was obvious that you had a huge interest in him, but it’s gotten to the point where you began developing feelings— way too much feelings. so much that you began fantasizing about him everyday.

it started off as fantasizing going on romantic dates with him— eventually to getting married, having kids, being the mom to little megumi. eventually leading to fantasizing you underneath him, holding him as he fucks into you. most would think it was absurd— to be obsessing over your own landlord who dislikes you at the moment.

but you liked the attention you were receiving from satoru. you two interacted many times before, but that’s mostly because of megumi. the child often ran into you, eventually getting close enough to where satoru allowed him to go to your house to bake cookies or for you to babysit. however, when you missed your first rent, satoru had came to your place— which, caught you by surprise, you thought he’d bring megumi but he was all by himself.

therefore, you intentionally pretended to forget to pay your rent, even though you did actually have the money to pay. of course, you were going to pay eventually, just so you don’t lose your apartment, but you were keeping up the act due to satoru’s appearances nearly everyday— demanding you to pay your rent. he’s gotten slightly aggressive over the past two weeks, but it never necessarily bothered you.

you pretend to avoid him, while still try to be around him. it was weird, maybe, but when you have a crush on someone, you usually end up doing things you don’t normally find yourself doing.

after getting into bed, you relaxed and got comfortable— but you feel as if you needed something else to cool your mind: thinking about satoru.

you felt lazy to grab one of your vibrators, so you decided to use your hands, imagining as if it was satoru’s instead.

“gojo, gojo, can i pleaseeee go to miss [name]’s house on saturday? pleaseeee,” megumi was whining to satoru repeatedly as they were heading back to their home. after saying their good nights to yuji and suguru, megumi just couldn’t shut up about you.

satoru was helping megumi get ready for bed, but the kid just couldn’t sleep until he said yes. and if satoru didn’t say much less of a no, or a simple no, megumi would throw a tantrum. satoru honestly didn’t know how to calm the child down whenever that occurs, so he makes sure to answer properly.

“maybe if she pays her rent, you can go,” satoru smiles at the kid, realizing his words slipped out without care.

“she did pay it! you just don’t check!” megumi pouts.

“oh megs, please just go to sleep. i’ll think about it tonight,” satoru replies with a sigh as he stands from kneeling beside of the bed and walks towards the door.

“nooo!! i wanna go, please!!” megumi begs, nearly crying at this point.

“gosh.. why are you so stubborn at this age,” satoru shakes his head as he was about to walk out. “fine, fine! you can go! just go to sleep, it’s late and if you don’t wake up in time tomorrow, you will not go, understand?”

suddenly, little megumi’s demeanor changed completely. he was now bubbly, smiling like crazy before getting comfortable underneath his blanket. “thank you, gojo! can you please go tell her that you said yes! i will tell yuji tomorrow, i’m so excited!” and without anything else, megumi was able to fall into a slumber.

satoru sighs yet again, shutting off the lights of megumi’s room before closing the door. honestly, he didn’t know what to do anymore, but he was glad megumi found company in someone else other than him— not that he does. satoru decides to flip through files, rental agreement files.

and of course, he stumbles upon yours. along with the papers that wrote payment overdue. satoru was pissed, to say the least.

satoru was lenient the first time, almost to the point of considering to not have you pay the rent— because, well, he also has an interest in you. his feelings began developing the day you both encountered, and he remembers trying so hard to get you to like the apartment. you both exchanged contacts that day once you signed the rental agreement, but it was nothing more than that. it initially surprised him when megumi asked to go to your place the first time, he hadn’t known then that you two were slowly becoming close as you’re adjusting to the new environment. but he shortly felt as if this was an opportunity for him to get closer with you.

now, they’re are definitely times satoru wanted to straight up say he had a fat crush on you, keeping it behind his mouth felt as if he was in high school again— however, he just couldn’t get the courage. he didn’t understand why, and most of the time, megumi would be cutting him off and grabbing your attention.

a few weeks ago, satoru was coming home with megumi, after picking him up from school. carrying the kid on his shoulders, megumi was saying this and that about wanting to visit your place. satoru was going to say yes, until: he detected you with someone else.

and that someone else ended up being suguru.

you both were chatting casually, it seemed you had also returned from work and stopped by to chat with suguru while little yuji was running around the playground with another child. watching at how you two interacted triggered satoru— the way you two smiled and laughed together, the way you tapped his arm when he said something that made you laugh. suguru was much bigger than he was, and definitely had more of the ladies’ attention.

however, in hindsight, satoru mistook your gestures and friendliness towards suguru as having feelings for him instead.

therefore, satoru suddenly became harsher towards you— but only because he was jealous of suguru and believing you liked him instead. even though his best friend didn’t show any display of affection towards you, satoru remembered the first impression you gave to suguru: “she’s pretty,” he complimented, but nothing else.

honestly, satoru felt quite immature to act like this. you weren’t even his girlfriend and even if you did like suguru, there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

satoru walked to his room, feeling utterly exhausted but still reached for his coat. as megumi wanted, he was going to deliver the message about him being allowed to go to your house on saturday to you, as well as remind you again about the rent.

the walk took no less than five minutes, though satoru often paused his steps or made circles because he felt anxious seeing you. of course, earlier he did see you when the kids were greeting you, but you barely even looked at him: at least, that’s what he perceived.

and when satoru approached the front of your door, he began anticipating as he hesitantly raises his hand to knock on the door. he leans back slightly, biting his lower lips as he thinks about what to say once you open the door. ‘hey, just wanted to say that megumi can—’ no, that wasn’t a good idea, he thought. ‘it’s time to pay your rent—’ well, not that either.

satoru shook his head, trying to surpass the feelings of nervousness before knocking on the door. and well, he must’ve knocked way too hard since the door cracked open. he stood there puzzled, and for a moment, he thought you were already on the other side. but realizing it was silent, he pushed the door open.

the first thing satoru noticed was the broken vase on the floor, causing his eyes to widen. did someone break in? is someone threatening her, is that why she can’t pay rent? dozens of thoughts were processing through his head as he enters further into your apartment, swallowing hard as more anxiety crawled up his back.

“[name]?” satoru calls out, and when you didn’t answer, he panicked even more. were you hurt? did something else happen here that he couldn’t grasp? satoru knew you lived alone, often inviting several friends or family members over but there was never anyone who looked threatening or intimidating to cause harm.

your apartment was clean, even though there were boxes and other things stuffed in corners and shelves, and there were no signs of any other damage aside from the broken vase. pulling out his phone, he readied to dial anyone. satoru was approaching your room at that point, bottled in his own thoughts as he looked around— he stands ahead of your bedroom door, realizing it was slightly cracked open, enough to where you can see the bed.

however, what satoru’s eyes laid upon was something unexpected.

the sight of you lying back on your bed, thighs spread open with your panties and underwear pushed down to your ankles, soft moans circulating the room caused blood to rush quick to satoru’s dick. while you were in your own world, satoru had been worried that something terrible might’ve happened to you. but you were just.. masturbating?

“f-fuck.. satoru..”

satoru’s eyes widened more when he hears you call out his name, causing his heart to thump and cheeks to burn red. were you imagining him right now? were you thinking about him touching you like that? the tightness of satoru’s pants began to poke out, throbbing nearly in pain as he watches you pleasure yourself because of him.

“need you to fuck me.. please..” your pleas and whines reached satoru’s ears like a melody, and he swore he could cum just by the sound of your pretty voice.

was this how you sounded like? was this how you moaned his name? it was driving satoru mad, making him want to push that door open and fuck you just like how you wanted. but, he felt like a creep— just standing there and watching.

satoru continued to watch you pleasure yourself before getting lost in his own thoughts, not remembering his phone in his other hand and dropping it to the ground. the loud thud causes the two of you to snap back into reality— sending you into an alert state and satoru into a panicked one. he cursed himself under his breath as he tries picking up his phone to quickly scatter out, but by now, you were already by the door.

“who’s there—?!” you nearly shouted, ready to attack and defend yourself against the person. but you were caught by surprise when you made eye contact with satoru.

the room became silent, as you both awkwardly stood and stared at each other for who knows how long. the embarrassment immediately got back to you, causing your face to burn and you could barely even formulate a proper response as satoru rubs the back of his neck.

“g-gojo…” you anxiously let out, averting your gaze in another direction. you could barely look him in the eyes.

“i didn’t mean to watch- or, i mean disturb you. i came at a wrong time, i’m sorry,” satoru slips out the response, also looking elsewhere while glancing back at you several times.

“you were watching..?” your face shoots up and satoru’s face nearly went pale.

“i- i just wanted to let you know that megumi is allowed to come over saturday, he wanted me to deliver the message!” satoru switches the topic as you avoid eye contact with him again.

“oh… i see,” you reply. the atmosphere was severely awkward, and you both didn’t know what to exactly or utter. “guess—”

“need help?” he blurts, eyes lowering back to you.

“help?” your eyes remain wide in shock and you can feel your heart pulsate quicker, nearly making your legs weak. you try to avoid gazes with him, but satoru reaches for your wrist just to get your attention.

satoru can feel his dick throb knowing that your needy pussy was underneath those tight shorts of yours, being forced to act normal when rubbing your thighs together out of embarrassment. he only imagines how wet you are— no, to feel how wet you are, to really know what kind of filthy girl you are. it was turning him on, and it was obvious from the bulge in his pants.

“i mean, from the way you were moaning my name, i figured you did,” satoru replies in a hushed tone, sending chills down your spine.

the moment was cut short when satoru leans in to kiss you, shocking you even more, but you instantly melted into his lips. you kissing him back with immense passion drove satoru insane, now that he figured out he had been the one all this time. he pushes his tongue pass your lips and into your mouth, hungrily searching for your tongue. you both share several soft groans before satoru grinds himself against you, allowing you to feel his erected dick.

“feel that?” satoru whispers when he leaned his head back to catch a quick breath, only receiving a small nod from you. “‘m so fucking hard, just because of you. gonna do something about that?”

“mhm.. of course..” you shyly replied, looking up at him with those nubile eyes.

you eventually find yourself on top of satoru, completely undressed aside from your soaked panties. you were facing his hard cock that was still being suffocated underneath his pants, meanwhile, satoru was beginning to tease your clothed clit with his middle finger. it made you whine, since you haven’t felt another’s touch in so long.

satoru pushes the material of your underwear to the side, getting a good view at your soaking cunt just dying to have someone’s cock drilled inside. “so pretty ‘nd perfect,” he whispers, his breath softly blowing against your clit.

“o-oh.. satoru,” you moan, feeling his tongue lap over your slit.

satoru circles his tongue around your clit, sucking it several times before working around your wet folds and pushing slightly pass them into your sopping cunt. you can feel ecstasy pump throughout your entire body, all just from his tongue.

“fuck.. your tongue- feels s’good..” you utter through your soft moans. “always fantasized you eating my pussy out like this.. a-ah..”

“yeah?” satoru hums, bringing a finger to rub circles on your clit while his tongue messily explored your cunt, licking and slurping all of your arousal that gradually coated down to his chin. your words dumped roughly on him, making his dick throb. “fucking hell. suck me off too, angel. need to feel your mouth around me.”

you push satoru’s pants down, along with his boxers that immediately causes his cock to spring out. you hold a breath as you take his length into your hand, watching as his pre-cum leaked out. you start with a lick around his tip, gathering the pre-cum on your tongue and earning a soft grunt against your pussy from him.

pushing your head down, you begin winding your tongue around his girth, sucking several times while pumping the rest with your hand. satoru’s cock twitches several times, nearly becoming sensitive under your touch and warm mouth. he proceeds to fuck your pussy with his tongue, thumbing your clit that causes your moans to vibrate around him.

“mm- ‘toru-”

“hush, baby. ‘ts okay, don’t want ya to choke. unless you like that,” satoru whispers, sinking his tongue into your pussy again, trying to slurp up all of your wetness. his nose easily brushes against your aching hole, sending you waves of pleasure.

you push satoru’s cock further into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, trying to maintain a pace. you could barely focus due to satoru’s tongue lapping your vulva and folds, inching into your cunt as if he’s marking as his territory. the tip of his cock softly slams against your throat, slowly pooling your eyes with tears.

“don’t forget to breathe, baby. oh fuck- keep sucking my cock like that- mhm- good girl,” satoru praises, grunting as he feels your mouth taking almost all of him. you could barely even handle it, yet you’re trying so hard— it was amusing, in a cute way.

your muffled moans sync with the sloppy sounds of your cunt being lavished with satoru’s tongue, the pad of his fingers rubbing your clit faster and causing you to reach an orgasm. grinding your hips slowly on satoru’s face was enough to tell him that, and he uses his other hand to slap the fat of your ass, eventually gripping it.

“gonna cum, baby. s-shit, in your mouth?” satoru glances at you, noticing you were bobbing your head as a response.

when satoru’s warm cum shoots into the back of your throat, it causes you to orgasm at the same time. your legs twitch from the sensations, but capturing his load was the main thing occupying your mind. you’d never thought you’d be situated with satoru like this— it’s just as if your fantasies are becoming a reality.

swallowing his cum, you push your head away and inhale several breaths while coughing lightly. shortly enough, you feel satoru pulling you back against him and turning your head. after sharing a long and sloppy kiss, he pins you on the mattress, spreading your thighs apart so that he’s in between them.

from what you could see, he was still hard. very hard. his aching tip was pressed against your entrance, teasing your clit and making you whimper. glancing up at him, you could see his flushed face— full of energy, arousal, and passion.

“d-do we need lube?” you innocently inquired, which choked a soft chuckle from satoru.

“not at all, baby. you’re so wet. feel that? feel how wet you are?” satoru hums when he guides his tip along your wet entrance, hoping it’d be an enough of a satisfying answer. you only nod, giving satoru a look and he reassures you with another kiss. “i’m gonna put it in now. tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?”

“‘kay..” you nod, biting your lower lips.

satoru groans as he inserts his cock past your folds, pushing your walls apart that clenches around him each time he inched deeper. you gasped as both hands went around his biceps and your fingers press into the skin, notably marking the area. your walls fluttered around him, accepting his thick and hard cock so earnestly.

“feel okay, love?” satoru questions, glancing down at you.

“mhm.. i’m okay, ‘toru..” you reply, indicating for him to move.

satoru slowly begins to move his hips, groaning at the feeling of your pussy when his cock slips in and out. for you, his cock was already kissing your most sensitive places that had moans fall from your mouth constantly. satoru gropes one your breast, pinching the nipple with two fingers as he nudges your deepest parts.

“f-fuck! satoru- your cock feels soso good-” you cry out when his pace fastens, nearly having your eyes roll back.

so, this is how her pussy feels like? satoru was lost in his own mind, lost in the feeling of your pussy. he was already addicted, wanting to be inside you forever and be able to dump his cum into you. to him, you’re perfect: everything about you is. he loved the feeling of your soft and delicate skin rubbing against his own, aside from your pussy kissing around his cock.

“you fantasize about this too, angel? fantasize about my cock fucking into your pussy like this?” satoru huffs as his thrusts initially became quicker— rougher, nearly filling you entirely up.

“yes! yes, ‘toru. always fantasizing about it.. about you- ngh..”

you could feel a knot slowly forming in your core as his cock continues to stimulate pleasure to your pussy. you could care less about the neighbor’s ears, knowing that another tenant’s room was on the other side of your headboard. as of right now, your landlord was fucking you, just like how you’ve always imagined about. the fact turned you on even more.

satoru groans, now pounding his cock into you, deep to the point it’s kissing your womb. the sound of skin slapping circulating the air along with your moans, making the room scream perfect sex. satoru presses a finger against your lips, signaling you to lower your voice when loud knocks on the wall is heard, telling you both to shut up. but how could you?

“i can’t- ‘toru. feels so good- ‘ts too much-” you cry out, bringing his finger into your mouth and swirling your tongue over.

“naughty girl. you really want to get a noise complaint, don’t you?” satoru chuckles, before throwing both of your legs over his shoulders. well, since he’s the landlord he could just dismiss the complaint whenever it came through.

“want them to know- how good you fuck me.”

and how could satoru deny such request? wrapping his hands around your thighs and pushing them against his chest, he pummels his cock deeper into you, getting screams out of your mouth. your breasts bounced each thrust, matching the gentle slams of the headboard ramming into the wall.

the angle of the position allowed satoru’s cock to perfectly grind against your g-spot, which is already sending you towards your next orgasm. his balls slaps against your vulva as he penetrates his cock deeper and deeper, feeling your walls clench around him each time.

you don’t know how long it’s been until you’re on your knees and hands, ass in the air as satoru fucks you from behind after another orgasm. gripping onto the sheets, you repeatedly cry out his name, just to feel his dick twitch inside of you.

“you’re such a perfect girl, you know that?” satoru proceeds to blurt out compliments, caressing your skin and pressing soft kisses on your shoulder blades to your neck. right now, he was just grateful that it’s him— that he is the one able to do this with you.

“sa-satoru— ngh- i’m cumming-”

satoru was close to cumming too. he wanted to dump his next cum load into you, stuff you up to the brim and feel you milk him dry. “cum on my cock, baby. c’mon,” he encourages, pushing your hips back with both of his hands as you reach your climax.

“cum in me, ‘toru! pleasee!” you cry out next, turning your head to make eye contact with him.

satoru’s eyes wide at the sight of your lewd expression, telling him to fill you up. and so he does. he does a final deep thrust, dumping his heavy and warm load all saved just for you. satoru feels your walls pulsate around him just before he slips his cock out.

from there, you both remain in silence once more, catching breaths before satoru collapses on top of you.

“three months..” satoru whispers against your ear, utterly confusing you.

“what?”

“i’ll give you three months free of rent, maybe more if you go on a date with me.”

“that’s not fair to the other tenants though.”

“they don’t have to know.”

you giggle, turning around so that you’re completely facing him. cupping his cheeks into your hand, you lean in to give him a kiss— a more subtle kiss. “alright then. a date is settled.”

as satoru entered his apartment, he was surprised to stumble upon— a rather, agitated suguru. arms crossed over his chest, it seemed as if satoru had done something to piss him off.

“sugu—”

“do you know how many times i’ve called you? 17 times! i even messaged you and you answered none of them!” suguru rambled and satoru easily noticed fumes erupting from his ears. “you should be grateful that megumi can take care of himself.. gosh, he’s only what? seven? i can’t believe you left him home alone. what if something bad happened?”

“look— suguru—”

“ugh, whatever. i made sure megumi got to school safely with yuji. make sure you pick them up later and drop them off at [name]’s house, we have a meeting this evening,” suguru cuts satoru off again as he grabs his coat, not leaving any room for satoru to explain.

“suguru—”

“why do you look like you just..” suguru pauses once he got a good observation of satoru’s appearance. “did you drink last night?”

“wh— what? ABSOLUTELY not!” satoru defends himself.

“uh huh.. hurry up and get ready,” suguru dismisses it once more before leaving the apartment.

well, guess satoru didn’t really need an explanation after all.

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: me after using the word cock

1K notes · View notes

astrolook · 1 month ago

Text

💖🌸 Venus As Darakaraka - A Ceritified Lover 🌸💖

Read Mercury and Mercury Rx as Darakaraka!

Note: These are just my personal observations and recurring patterns I've noticed over the years from married clients, relatives and friends. Take what resonates with you and leave the rest. Feel free to share in the comments if any of this hits home. This post is based on Vedic astrology.

Venus as Darakaraka - When the cosmos says “you’re into vibes, not resumes.”

When Venus is your Darakaraka, your partner is likely to be romantic, artistic, and deeply invested in self-care. They take pride in their appearance, from skincare and haircare to choosing the right perfumes and clothing. Their aesthetic sense extends to everything they do, whether it’s curating their wardrobe, decorating their space, or engaging in creative pursuits like music, painting, or writing. Some may even enjoy growing their own veggies or gardening.

Your spouse will have big dreams of owning a beautiful home, ideally a spacious one with manicured lawns, a pet, and children. They are self-sufficient and willing to spend on themselves, whether it’s for beauty treatments, skincare, or perhaps even the occasional indulgence in luxurious experiences. Cooking might also be one of their talents, as they enjoy both creating and sharing meals.

Visually-oriented, they appreciate beauty in all forms, from movies and fashion to travel and cultural experiences. Expect them to love trying new restaurants, exploring different cuisines, and shopping for clothing from various cultures. Professionally, they may be involved in industries like media and entertainment, cosmetics, electronics, real estate, retail, hospitality, or consumer goods.

Their relationships with family are also noteworthy. They might have a sister they are very close to, who is more chatty and playful but equally supportive of you. Your spouse will take pride in a clean home and may get irritated by small inconveniences. If they are financially comfortable, they might hire a maid for cleaning and chores but still maintain high standards of cleanliness. However, when they’re feeling down or depressed, they may neglect themselves, possibly overeating or skipping meals, losing interest in personal care.

Fertility is strong with Venus as Darakaraka, so starting a family might happen sooner than expected. If protection was not used before marriage, an unplanned pregnancy could be in the cards. Your spouse (for husband) may sport either a clean-shaven look with smooth skin or a well-groomed beard, maintaining their appearance with pride.

For a wife, expect someone who is fertile, healthy, and carries a well-proportioned body, often with medium to long hair, fuller lips, and thick eyebrows. They might also be prone to hyperpigmentation and love receiving compliments about their appearance. They are not ones to shop at thrift stores as they prefer quality over quantity and are willing to save up for their favorite items.

When it comes to relationships, they have a high libido, and might either enjoy romantic movies or indulge in crushes, fantasizing about being the lead character in a love story. With their natural charisma, they tend to attract attention, and you might have to deal with that even after you’re together. If Venus is placed in the 6th, 8th, 10th, 11th, or 12th houses, be cautious, as they may be prone to extramarital affairs, particularly in fire or water signs.

Venus in the 7th, 9th, 11th, or 12th houses can indicate a partner from a different culture, someone you may not initially find your type, but who you feel an undeniable, fated attraction to. When Venus is in the 1st house, your spouse will likely treat you like a king/ queen or the other way around, making you feel like the center of their world and vice versa. Venus in the 2nd house will indulge you, sometimes to the point of spoiling you or encouraging excess, particularly in food and drink. Venus in the 3rd house loves taking you out on frequent dates and showing you off to their friends and family. If Venus is in the 5th house, you’ve found a perfect life partner like someone who could also be an amazing parent similar to 7th. Venus in the 8th house suggests wealth through marriage, possibly an inheritance, as your spouse is likely to be financially well-off and generous with their resources.

💫 Venus Combos and What They Say About Your Spouse 💫

💚 Venus + Mercury - Expect a younger, baby-faced spouse who may be significantly younger than you. They're witty, charming, and possibly into writing, painting, or other artistic hobbies. If Mercury is retrograde, they might be more reserved in love or less experienced in relationships, but still very talented and expressive.

☀️ Venus + Sun - Your spouse could have a higher social or professional status, admired by many and naturally stands out in a crowd. Think someone confident, radiant, and maybe even self-employed or entrepreneurial.

🌙 Venus + Moon - This combo? Literal beauty/ handsome. Your spouse will have a stunning face, glowing skin that reflects light, and lush, healthy hair. They're soft, nurturing, and emotionally in tune.

🔥 Venus + Mars - The chemistry is 🔥. Your spouse radiates raw sexual energy and may unintentionally turn heads everywhere. They're likely fit and active. In some cases, this combo can bring intense attraction and occasional temptations for them outside wedlock.

🌍 Venus + Jupiter - Foreign connection! Your spouse might be from a different culture, and they love the finer things in life like food, drinks, luxury. If Jupiter is retrograde, the foreign influence still stands, but you may be the one introducing them to indulgent pleasures or spoiling them with your taste.

⏳ Venus + Saturn - Age gap alert! Your spouse could be older, but there's definitely a maturity contrast. If this pair is in the 7th, 9th, 11th, or 12th house, a foreign or long-distance connection is likely. If Saturn is retrograde, the dynamic flips as your spouse could be child-like and laidback, while you take on the more mature, grounding role.

Next Post will be about Mars as Darakaraka!

Wanna dive deeper into your chart's layers? ✨🔍 DM me for a full astrology reading, a 5 or 8-year marriage report, or a detailed synastry breakdown 🌙💬 Check out my pinned post for pricing and more info 💫💸

Let’s decode your cosmic chaos together ⭐💖

166 notes · View notes

vbecker10 · 26 days ago

Text

Hi Neighbor (Part 5)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6 (in progress)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You offer to help Bucky plan his housewarming party then convince your friends they need to come so you don't spend any time alone with him on Saturday.

A/N: This is going to be a multi-part series with a bit of a slow burn between you and your hot new neighbor. I'm not sure how many parts yet but I already have the ending all figured out. I hope you all like it! 💚

"Thanks for letting me use the backyard for the party," Bucky says. He's standing at your front door with Alpine half asleep against his chest, Bucky's metal arm gently holding him in place. In his other hand is a small plastic bag with two full Tupperware containers he promised to return.

"No problem," you tell him with a smile and a light shrug. The duplex apartment you and Bucky live in has a fenced in backyard that's shared between both units. You can access it from your back door while Bucky has access through a gate in the fence. The apartment complex keeps it well maintained and you've always enjoyed spending time back there in the summer with your friends.

If anyone told me a few months ago I'd be helping a super soldier host Earth's Mightiest Heroes in my backyard, I'd say they were crazy, you think. Actually, this is still kind of crazy. "Besides," you smirk, "I don't think all of the Avengers will fit in your apartment. Some of you are pretty big."

He chuckles, "Ah, so you're just worried about us coming through your ceiling."

"Pretty much," you nod and giggle.

"Well I appreciate it anyways," he says when you open your front door. "I'll see you Wednesday, sweetheart," he winks when he steps out onto the stoop.

You roll your eyes dramatically, "Not if you keep that up buttercup." You hear him laughing at your new choice of pet name and empty threat as his key slides into his lock. Once it was decided that Bucky would throw a party like Sam insisted, you offered to meet him in a few days to help him plan it. Wednesday was cutting it closer than you'd like but you promised him it was doable and you both knew you'd never bail on him.

"Goodnight Y/N," Bucky tells you when he opens his door, you can't see his smile but you can hear it in his voice.

"Goodnight Bucky," you reply, closing your door quickly.

Once dinner was finished, Bucky helped you pack up the leftovers, most of which he took home, then he washed, dried and put away your dishes. You told him you could just throw them in the dishwasher and take care if it later but he wouldn't hear it. A part of you wondered if that was his way of getting you to let him stay longer, not that he needed an excuse. You would have gladly let him stay and hang out all night but that couldn't have been what he was doing. Guys from back then were supposed to be gentlemen right? you had tried to reason with yourself. It would have been rude if he didn't at least offer to help me clean up.

You shrug to yourself as you stand alone in your apartment. There's nothing left to do now but freak out over the upcoming party and you know exactly who you need to talk to. Grabbing your phone off the dining table, you head to the couch, your head falling in defeat on the pillow when you see your new lockscreen. The picture shows Apline asleep on your kitchen counter, a few small treats scattered around him. The white cat found the bag you completely forgot to hide and decided to snack until he passed out.

------------------------------------------------

"He's kinda cute when he's not clawing viscously at me isn't he?" Bucky says, looking at the picture on your phone over your shoulder.

You nearly drop the device when you suddenly feel his chest lightly press against your back. "He's absolutely adorable all the time," you force yourself not to look at Bucky when you talk. If you turn your head just a bit, you could easily kiss his cheek without even moving.

"If you say so sweetheart," he says, his lips close enough for you to feel his breath lightly on your neck. "What are you going to do with that?"

You feel him chuckle against your back after a moment of silence then blink as you focus on the fact that he said something after he called you sweetheart. "What?" you ask, taking a few steps a safe distance away from him before turning to face the super soldier.

He repeats his question but your original plan to ask for his phone number so you can send him the picture vanishes when you see his insanely cute smirk.

I have no doubt he'd give me his number if I ask but if I have it, what would I do with it? you think. I could send him memes when he complains about having a day full of boring meetings to see if it'll make him smile. I could call him so he can bring Alpine down and I'll have an excuse to see him during the week. I could text him in the middle of the night when I know he's still awake because I can hear his TV faintly.

"I'm gonna save it as my new lockscreen obviously," you tell him. That's the least complicated option, you think. No point having his number since I'd never be brave enough to reach out anyways.

"Aw, such a good aunt," he says with a laugh, remembering how you announced your title to him earlier.

"Yep," you force a smile to match his but it quickly becomes real when he leans in closer again to see the finished update. "Adorable right?" you hold your phone up for him to see better.

He grins at the image on your screen then looks at you, "Absolutely sweetheart."

------------------------------------------------

Y/N: HELPPPPPP!!!!

Soubi: What's going on?

Rose: Are you okay!?

Shivanie: What happened?

The three messages come back almost instantly in the group chat and you tuck the pillow under your elbows to be more comfortable, this could be a long conversation.

Y/N: Bucky and I were cooking dinner and he told me he's having a housewarming party next weekend. All the Avengers are going to be there and he wants me to come!

Rose: No way?! 🤯

Rose: So that means Steve Rogers is going to be there? 😏

Soubi: That's great! Why the panic??

Shivanie: I'm sorry, we're not skipping over you two making dinner together lol

Soubi: Oh right, what'd you guys make for dinner?

Shivanie: Not what I meant 🙄

Rose: OMG! Wait, was dinner a date!?

Shivanie: Did you cook at his place or did you finally get him into your apartment?

Y/N: It was NOT a date!

You sigh, rubbing your eyes and know you probably should have skipped over the dinner part.

Y/N: Can we focus on the problem??

Soubi: 🤷‍♀️ I have no idea what the problem is but sure

Y/N: I need you guys to come, it's next Saturday

Soubi: To the party?

Rose: I'll be there! I'm not missing a chance to see America's ass up close

You laugh, Rose has never hidden how big of a fangirl crush she has on the famous Captain America. The minute you told your friends Bucky moved in upstairs, she threatened to move into your apartment despite it only being a one bedroom unit. She probably would have followed through on it if Steve spent more time at Bucky's but they seemed to mostly still hang out at Stark Tower.

Shivanie: 🤦‍♀️ Are you sure Bucky didn't invite you so he could spend time with you?

Soubi: Good point, plus I don't like going places I didn't get invited

Soubi: Oh and I'd need to get him a gift cause it's a housewarming right? You bring gifts to those?

Soubi: Does he seem like a guy who likes candles? Or maybe something cute for his cat

Shivanie: The only gift he wants is Y/N 😏

Y/N: NOT HELPING

Rose: Lol idk I think Shivanie figured out the perfect gift

Soubi: We can get you a big bow to wear!

Shivanie: Yes!!

You groan loudly at their collective lack of sympathy and text back.

Y/N: I hate all of you

Soubi: Lies

Y/N: Please tell me you'll come Saturday. It'll be so awkward if I go alone, just me and a bunch of literal super heroes

Rose: Yeah, that sounds awful 🙄

Y/N: It will be, the only person I actually know is Bucky and I can't just follow him around the whole time. Please, you guys need to come

You plead with your friends, hoping they'll save you from the potential disaster that awaits Saturday.

Shivanie: Fine, but if Rose gets Steve's number before you get Bucky's I'm gonna be really disappointed in you

Soubi: You still didn't get his number!!? 😳😳😳

Soubi: How?! I thought you said you were gonna get it like a week ago

Y/N: 🫣

You cringe thinking about how you failed to get Bucky's number again tonight. It was the third time you've had an opportunity to ask and couldn't go through with it.

Rose: Ooh, I'm definitely getting Steve's number at the party 😉

Shivanie: Maybe Steve can get Y/N Bucky's number cause she is never gonna ask 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Y/N: I'll ask him if you guys come

Shivanie: Really?

Y/N: I swear

You bite your lip when you type out the promise you're not sure you'll be able to keep based on your track record.

Y/N: Just get here at noon, you guys don't need to bring gifts or food or anything

You make one final plea to your friends and cross your fingers as you wait for them to respond.

Shivanie: Of course we're coming 😊

Soubi: See you Saturday

Rose: I'll be there! ❤️

You toss your phone gently onto the coffee table and roll over to stare at the ceiling, briefly wondering if Bucky is in the space directly above you before you realize you now need to let him know you've invited all of your friends without asking him. If I hadn't chickened out of getting his number I could just send him a text, you think as you cover your face with your hands and groan.

(Wednesday)

You close your front door and kick off your heels, both excited and a little nervous about heading up to Bucky's apartment. You spent your last meeting of the day making a list of things you two needed to figure out for the upcoming party and it was a long one. Hopefully planning will go smoothly so you can follow it up with telling him you invited your friends without asking him.

You can hear Bucky's footsteps above you when you walk into your bedroom to get changed. Throwing a t-shirt and jeans on in place of your blouse and dress pants, you instantly feel more comfortable. The outfit is finished off with a pair of sneakers and a quick check in the mirror to make sure you didn't mess your hair up while changing.

After grabbing your phone and the list from your bag, you go back outside and ring Bucky's doorbell. You bite your lip, trying to push down how excited you are to see him when you hear his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs quickly. Without thinking, you fold and unfold the list until he opens the door wearing a dark sweatshirt and that smile you can't get enough of.

"Thanks for coming sweetheart," he takes a step back to let you into the small entry way.

"No problem pookie," you tell him with a grin and he chuckles lightly, shaking his head. You can't see his face when he turns to go up the stairs but you know he's rolling his eyes at your random new pet name.

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure your first party this century isn't epic?" you ask. You force yourself not to cringe at how much you dislike what calling yourself his friend feels like. Friend is better than neighbor, you think as you follow him up the stairs, but girlfriend would be even better and also completely unrealistic. Yay for being delusional!

He laughs which brings you back to the conversation as you both reach the top of the stairs. "It'll still be a disaster for one reason or another I'm sure," Bucky says. "Trust me, you can't get everyone on the team together without something stupid happening."

You barely notice his left hand buried in his sweatshirt pocket while he bends to pet Alpine. Instead, your attention is on how the cat accepts only two brief strokes along his back before wandering away to find something more interesting.

"It's gonna be great," you insist although you're not sure you believe that.

He walks towards his bedroom, leaving you standing in his living area, watching Alpine attack a stuffed mouse with a bell in it. "I'm gonna grab something from my room. I'll be out in a second, you can grab a drink if you want," he suggests.

"Sounds good, thanks," you make your way to his kitchen, giving Alpine a wave that goes completely unnoticed. "Do you want a drink too?"

"I'm good," Bucky responds and when you hear a chuckle from down the hall you know he's going to say it. "Thanks sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and try to ignore him, opening the fridge to grab a pitcher of filtered water then open his cabinet.

"Oh, cups are clean but they're still in the dishwasher," he calls from his bedroom and you wonder if he heard the soft squeak of the door.

"So you do remember how to use the-" you scream loudly in surprise then your hand clamps over your mouth as you take quick steps back, nearly tripping over Alpine.

"What happened?" he asks, his voice much closer but there's no concern is his tone. If you weren't so freaked out, you might have noticed he was fighting to keep from laughing.

Your eyes are still glued to the open dishwasher, Bucky's freshly cleaned metal arm resting on the top rack. You take a small step closer to get a better look then yelp in surprise when the wrist lifts and the fingers wave at you.

Bucky laughs as your back slams into his chest when you try to back out of the kitchen. "Sorry about that," he says but you know that's not even a little true.

You turn to face him and hit his broad chest in annoyance, "What the hell?"

"I told you that's where I clean it," he reminds you.

"Yeah but-" the words die in your throat when you watch him move around you. For the first time, you notice one sleeve of his sweatshirt dangles loosely at his side. You assumed he was wearing it because it had been a bit chilly today but apparently it was to hide his missing arm. "You did this on purpose," you put your hands on your hips.

Bucky grabs the arm, placing it on the counter then hands you a glass with a smile. "Not sure what you're talking about sweetheart," he insists innocently.

You open your mouth to argue with him but every thought leaves your brain when he pulls the sweater off over his head and his white shirt comes off as well. You stare at his toned back, vaguely hearing Bucky say something as he turns to face you while he pulls his t-shirt back down.

"What?" you ask, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes even though you can feel your cheeks heating from a blush.

He smirks and picks up the arm, holding it close to his shoulder until both exposed ends glow faintly and make mechanical whirling sounds. He reattaches his left arm, the plates recalibrate then he rotates his arm in one sharp, quick motion to set it back in place.

"Wow," you mumble without meaning to and he chuckles at your reaction.

"You were saying," Bucky fills the empty glass you've been holding with water and turns to put the pitcher away.

"I..." you think and look down at the full glass, what the heck was I saying? Ooh right. "You freaking did that on purpose!"

"Why would I do that?" Bucky asks, closing the dishwasher and ignoring the rest of the clean dishes.

"To scare the crap out of me," you say obviously then add, "And it waved at me! What the hell? I didn't know you could do that."

He laughs, walking into the living room to sit on the couch and you follow him, "I would never scare you on purpose, but it was pretty funny."

"It was not," you fold your arms across your body, not wanting to admit it was a really good prank.

He leans towards you as you stand in front of him, "Then why are you smiling sweetheart?"

You blush again when you realize he's right, you can feel the smile on your face despite trying to hide it and decide to change the subject. "Okay seriously though, you can move your arm when it's not attached?"

He shrugs and sits back, making room for you on the couch. "Sometimes I can. I have to be pretty close to it but I'm getting better," he explains vaguely, looking at his vibranium fingers as they wiggle.

Without meaning to, you visualize Bucky's arm crawling across the floor, chasing Alpine like the Thing and shake your head to rid yourself of that image.

"So... you really think we can pull off this party?" he asks after a moment of silence between you both.

"Sure," you answer, pulling the long, detailed list out of your pocket and picking up a pen he had laying on the coffee table. "We've totally got this."

Bucky smiles at your determination and you decide to start off easy, suggesting he doesn't bother buying any decorations and he quickly agrees. Next you move onto food and you're surprised to learn just how much super soldiers and Asgardians can eat.

"Maybe we should just order like... an insane number of pizzas," you say with a giggle.

"That's not a bad idea sweetheart," he nods in agreement. You roll your eyes, continuing to act as if it annoys you when he calls you that although you both know it doesn't.

After a lengthy discussion about pizza toppings and how many pies should be ordered, you move on to music. "We can play music off my phone, connect it to my speakers," you suggest then realize you have no idea what type of music Bucky likes. "What do you listen to? I wanna make sure I put things you like on the playlist."

He shrugs and doesn't answer.

"You really don't listen to music?" you ask in disbelief.

"I like 40s music," Bucky admits after a moment.

"You're so old," you giggle but write 40s on the list next to music and circle it. I'll need to figure out what the heck 40s music even is, you think.

"Ouch, thanks sweetheart," he laughs. "You don't need to put that, whatever you want is fine," he says pointing to the note you made.

"Don't worry honey buns, I'll find some," you smile and when his head turns instantly to look at you, you know he doesn't like that pet name at all.

"Are you going to call me stuff like that at the party?" he asks.

You can't help but smile even wider at how concerned Bucky looks waiting for you to answer him. "You know the rules pumpkin," you try not to giggle, "You call me sweetheart, I call you something cute."

"Pumpkin and honey buns are not cute," he says but you can see he's fighting back a smile.

"What would you rather I call you then, boo bear?" you ask.

He lets out a laugh, "Bucky."

"Ducky?" you ask with a grin and now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "Aww, ducky is actually kinda adorable," you insist then add, "I could call you James?"

"Please don't," he shakes his head but he can't seem to lose his smile.

"You're no fun," you pout, folding your arms over your chest as you sit back on the couch.

He leans close to you and smirks, "I'm a lot of fun sweetheart."

His expression and closeness cause goosebumps to travel over your skin and you giggle nervously. "You worried Sam and Steve might catch on and help me give you fun nicknames?" you shift as far away as you can on the couch which isn't more than another inch or two.

"A little," he admits and you smile, figuring now is as good a time as any.

"I'll make you a deal," you say and he looks at you curiously, waiting for you to continue. "If I can invite my three best friends, I won't call you anything super cutesy in front of your super friends," you grin, hoping he'll buy it.

He thinks for barely a second before agreeing, "Deal sweetheart."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @multyunervisesuperfan @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @ash-muses @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @wolfsmom1 @peaches1958 @catsladen @michellewgrt @crimson25 @jaidenhawke @mochie85 @itscomplicatedx @motherofmischief @lethallyprotected @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes

151 notes · View notes

cloudcountry · 3 months ago

Text

SUMMARY: hobbies/habits i think they would pick up when they’re older

COMMENTS: i was thinkin hard about this but ofc rubia helped me on both leo's and haku's (as haku authority ofc ofc <333)

Jin picks up piano to cope with the dread of his younger years. You can often find him tentatively playing through the pieces he loves, worried about getting them right.

Tohma picks up a hobby like auto mechanics. It sounds odd at first until you remember that he was originally in the house full of junk cars...

Luca picks up writing children’s books. If possible, he would read them out to children at the local library, and talk about how he wrote each one for his little brother and you.

Kaito has much more time to bake now that he’s married and settled down with you! He always finds the time in the mornings to bake you a sweet treat before you leave for the day.

Alan starts organizing community service events for your area. He wants to be able to help out the youth and give back to the community at the same time.

Sho would pick up gardening as a way to grow his own herbs, vegetables, and fruits for you and his meals. He takes a lot of pride in his garden.

Leo would most likely pick up freelancing as a way to still go about his usual activities while maintaining the house. He’s mellowed out a lot since marrying you, but he’s still Leo.

Haru starts quilting, making little blankets for the animals (and big ones for you!) He’s definitely a huge animal guy with a bunch of pets in his older years.

Towa picks up gardening for sure, but especially the care of your wildflowers. He treasures each and every dandelion and will occasionally pick some up to eat for your both!

Ren starts steaming his video game playthroughs and even reactions to/recommendations of some horror movies. His followers beg to hear more about you but he always draws a hard line.

Taiga starts going out on the shooting range to remember his high school days. He feels the memories fade more and more with time, and he would like to hold onto the years in which he met you.

Romeo starts making his own jewelry. He’s very meticulous about the whole process and will screech at you if you interrupt him (he still loves you, yes.)

Ritsu starts making coffee every morning to start his day. At first it starts as a way for him to get his daily caffeine fix, but you can tell he’s genuinely interested about how the drink is made.

Subaru starts developing his own tea blends. He starts by buying the ingredients, and then gets advice from Sho on how to grow his own.

Haku would pick up more artsy hobbies to fill up the vacant spaces of his house. He wants, more than anything, to make your shared space a home.

Zenji would pick up cross stitching! You can find him curled up in his armchair when you come home, staring at his linen over the rim of his glasses, carefully sewing little people to life.

Edward starts traveling from place to place and insists you come with him. Oh, you have a job? But my dear, surely you have enough leave to spend some time with your husband...? He doesn’t have forever with you, you know...

Rui, upon finding out that he couldn’t kill plants, picked up anomalous plant caretaking in Darkwick. Now that he’s married to you, he adopts the plants for your world, and does his best to take care of them too.

Lyca starts volunteering in soup kitchens and food banks, putting those customer service skills he learned from Rui to work. Whenever he has free time on the weekends, he goes out and helps as many people as he can.

Yuri starts making soap for the two of you from scratch! You can find him outside working with lye and all of the other ingredients in his mad scientist get up just to keep you clean and healthy <3

Jiro starts knitting. He needs something to do with his hands when he’s not working, and creating blankets and hats for you and your loved ones works well enough for him!

218 notes · View notes

12amintoronto · 4 months ago

Text

𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞 ... pedri gonzález x reader 💙❤️

──────────────────────

wc: 2.1k

summary: pedri has come home to you, his girlfriend, after a rough match v. atletico madrid ... still gutted about his club's loss despite having scored a great goal. fortunately, you, his gf, know how to lift his spirits like no one else can

contents: absolute fluff, sfw, comfort, female reader, established boyfriend/girlfriend, speaking spanish to one another (like little phrases and pet names), tons of physical touch

notes: gift for my bff - LOVE YOU BAE 🩵🩵

──────────────────────

confidence, nervousness, and excitement are all elements of matchday weekends - and earlier that weekend, pedri had come into that weekend feeling nothing but confidence in himself and in his team. he was given a sense that the training for this match in particular had paid off... both with teammates as well as on his own time.

not to mention the endless encouragement from his girlfriend whose reassurance helped him feel as if anything is possible.

despite all of this, two 45 minute halves plus extra time, and even a goal of his own, later away at the riyadh air metropolitano ... the outcome of it was a weight on pedri's shoulders. the 2-3 atletico madrid win was so discouraging, and the loss hit home only more acknowledging the fact that this is what'd caused barça's generous win streak to end... and had also distrupted the couple of clean sheets that the team had managed to maintain in the last couple of those matches.

it was only right for him to at least give a nod of thanks to his driver who brought him from point a to b - point b being home, where there was no sense of placelessness to him.

he tried to push away his negative post-match thoughts on his own as he had come in through the doors to the lobby of you and his' condominium, but he couldn't do it alone.

that was because he both wanted and needed your comfort. the girl who he constantly reminded makes him a better man with each passing day.

you, obviously a huge lover of barça yourself, were distraught by the match results ... though found yourself able to unwind somehow by looking on the bright side...

your boyfriend's brilliant goal and overall performance on the pitch...

finding solace in simple things that do not fail to ease the emotions a rough match outcome can wring out of one - you curled nearby the calm of the electric fireplace with a blanket draped over your lower half... dressed comfy, with a good book as company until your pedri got home. occasionally, well ... maybe each hour, you'd would revisit cute videos saved of you and pedri in your camera roll to hear his voice, and see his handsome face ... and body ... because the footballer's physique is to die for.

most of all, the opportunity to be where pedri found his place. it was not only in the kind atmosphere of their condominium that pedri could fall back, but into the arms and love of the girl that he shares that space with every day ... and is ever so sure about you being it.

finally, a moment you had been waiting for - to be pleasantly startled by the sound of keys turning in the unit door's lock, had come around. as satisfying as such a sound was ... it simply could not top the sound of the voice of the key's male beholder.

"pedri?" you called out quietly.

from a little distance that did not have to go a long way, a soft thud of the bags that carried pedri's belongings he kept for the away match could be heard, followed by the best sound.

"cariño..." pedri said, the tiredness mingling with his tone.

pedri's footsteps seemed to drag against the hardwood floor more and more with each one.

you encouraged him - "hey... ven aquí..."

with that, pedri's heart was already melting, as was yours, and both would fully once settled into one another, fulfilling the physical touch you two had not shared for about two days. he listened without hesitation when you beckoned him over to you.

pedri let out a small groan as he finally sat on the sofa close to you, and a quieter, but lengthier, sigh was drawn out of his breath once he managed to lower the rest of his body that was still upright, down... to lay his head in y/n's lap.

"that was..." pedri began, shaking his head. though your hand came down to caress his soft, black hair, slowly snaking way down to gently hold the nape of his neck.

"it's okay, pedri." you insisted, simply determined to comfort him after the match.

"it was not okay, cariño. our winning streak... over. all in the last few minutes lino and álvarez had to take it away from the club." he wanted to continue, but you stopped him from talking down on any more of this matchday's occurences.

you brought a finger to pedri's lips and shushed him. it was your way of reminding your boyfriend that the amount of opportunities in matchdays that are underway are so endless. "shhh."

he tried to fight you on it outside of a verbal context - furrowing his brows at the fact that you were shutting him up from any more deprecating talk about the match.

you laughed softly at his reaction - it was classic pedri, and you could tell the way that he was responding to you was almost reflexive in telling you implicitly how crazy you drive him. that blush had graced his cheeks and the bridge of his nose again, well enough that you could see it still while the sun was beginning to set.

"look at you, pedri."

"why don't you let me talk, though-"

"have you forgotten who is no. 1 on the league's table?"

pedri closed his eyes, still revelling in the feel of your gentle hand cradling his nape. "aha... that, i guess..." he played it off in his words as if him forgetting barça being six points clear of both real and atletico madrid was no big deal. "sí, sí..."

"the hunger your club has for winning comes almost naturally, now, look, you act on it very well, amor." you added.

"i have had better goals, you know..." pedri said, still blushing, now repeatedly tangling his fingers with the ones of your free hand, all the while admiring your nails that you had gotten done at the salon as of recently. he brought each individual finger of yours on that hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on each consecutively.

that made you smile. "see... look at the way you forget about the trouble when you just come home."

the spaniard let out a cute scoff at your words. "y/n..."

you continued, the thumb of your other hand now stroking his nape softly, the rest of your fingers staying still on him. "just relax, cariño. you know you are very resilient."

pedri gave you the heartwarming look that you could not ever get enough of, him making those doe eyes at you, the man was utterly smitten.

"sí. look, pedri- that is one of so many things i love about you... it is almost unique about you. you can bounce back from just about anything very quickly. see? you don't let that club hold you down... not for long, even."

pedri had an answer to that right away. right in this moment when he finally came home to you, he knew he had a reason to let go from the stress of losing a match.

"because of you."

"me?" you ask, as if you hadn't known the answer. well, had you? you knew well that you help pedri always improve his response to things like a team loss, but not to the extent that you're foundational to it. not just a part of it... but his foundation to keep going.

"i give my all on the pitch for you..." pedri affirmed.

"...you... mi princesa."

you thought to yourself... look who's doing all the reassuring talk now. that only mirrored your point - pedri being a super resilient guy. a trait you found incredible about him, and is one that certainly does him good in life... allows him to pull through.

to know that you fuelled that for him made it all the more sweeter.

"you are right. i saw your celebration~"

"ahahaaa, cariño..." he laughed blissfully, recalling the cele that he hit after his 28' goal - having made a heart with his hands and quite literally mouthing your name, all to the camera. he brought up one of his hands, positioning his fingers to execute half of a heart shape. "i know you were jumping up and down when i did that."

your free hand that he was holding with one of his had mirrored another half of a heart, and your fingertips joined to pedri's, completing the image. you could have sworn his blush got redder. you smiled down at him, and he smiled up at you in reciprocity.

"yes, you bet i was." you answered quietly, that followed by a sigh once you'd again taken in the sight of pedri resting his head in your lap... for good.

the subtle smile that turned the corners of pedri's mouth up was a reminder that you really are a force to be reckoned with. something as simple as a lie down, softly grazing the nape of his neck - a total weak spot of his - and exchanging a few words of necessary kindness, only sweeter when said in a way that rubs his spanish heritage that he takes pride in the right way.

your hand slithered way down to his back, slipping underneath the hem of his crewneck hoodie that sat at his lower back. you began to rub pedri there with utmost care, and it did not fail to elicit a content moan from his lips.

"mmh... no te detengas, cariño..." he whispered.

clearly he liked it a ton, telling you to not stop... to keep going. it was your treat after all... raining this comfort onto pedri. something so essential between the two of you anyways. "i won't stop, mi amor. you know how much i missed touching you."

you suggested an idea that would only make this moment an even bigger treat to the both of you. "i can give your back a massage, you know, pedri..."

hearing that immediately sparked this mischevious twinkle in his gaze that had been fixed on you since the moment he had laid his head in your lap.

"you know me very well... very very well..." he chuckled.

pedri shifted from the current position he was in... and stood up from the sofa, gesturing with a quick glance to you guys' bedroom, then back at you. the look... the idea of giving your boyfriend a proper back rub, relaxing him, was nothing short of appealing. as he backed up, you followed him into the bedroom... both of you climbing up onto your bed, sitting while facing one another.

both of you guys' pairs of eyes could not be torn from the other, though it was you whose gaze had really caught onto his hands, once he crossed them at the bottom of his crewneck, bringing his arms up along with the sweater to reveal his body toned beyond belief... the feeling of having to look away because the definition in his muscles - in this case, biceps, pecs, abs... all that.

he tossed his piece of clothing aside once he had completely undressed his upper half. he then brought his arms towards you.

"ven aquí, mi cariño...

...te extrañé."

you brought yourself in closer proximity to pedri, and he snaked his arms around your waist and squeezed you lovingly while your arms draped over his gorgeously broad shoulders... now sharing a hug that was heart to heart.

"i missed you too..." you mumbled as you buried your face into the crook of pedri's neck, the scent of his cologne off his skin was so good.

you both pulled your faces just a tiny bit back in order to look at one another, both of your smiles growing wider in synchronicity. pedri couldn't help but finally greet you the way he knew he should have when he came through the door, and pressed his lips into yours, for a couple seconds... just plentiful. his brown eyes met your own after the kiss, after your lips lingered close to one another's.

"lie down now so i can start, then?" you asked him.

"sí..." pedri whispered back, nodding ever so slightly. "you take care of me so well."

"this will have you feeling like yourself again so fast, babe."

"i already do..." he said looking over his shoulder to you a bit, as he positioned himself to lie down on his stomach... his back exposed, all yours to get your hands all over.

you simply smiled to yourself... for it showed that pedri sprung back to his determined self... confident in the man that he was on the pitch... in training... all for the sake of you.

#pedri #pedri gonzález x reader #12am in toronto #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #fcb #fc barcelona #barca #barcelona x reader #football #la liga #football fanfic #football fluff

170 notes · View notes

solarmorrigan · 8 months ago

Text

Lucky

For the @steddie-spooktober day 13 prompt: Superstition Rated: T | Words: 1096 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, furthering my Steve Harrington is a cat person agenda, Eddie tries to be the reasonable one, fluff Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Surprising Steve Harrington fact: the man is superstitious.

It’s not obvious at first. It actually takes Eddie a little while to notice, but the details pile up: the way he tosses a pinch of salt over his shoulder when the shaker tips over, the way he absently knocks on wood any time someone says something even remotely jinxable, the way he had insisted on carrying their bedroom mirror himself when they’d finally gotten around to buying one because he refused to risk breaking it (to be fair, that last one could go either way in terms of evidence, Eddie has been known to get distracted while carrying things, but he maintains that Steve had handled it with a disproportionate amount of care and concern as they hung it on the wall).

The final nail in the coffin had been when he’d thrown a fit at Eddie for opening an umbrella inside the apartment – not just because it’s bad luck, but because he apparently doesn’t trust Eddie not to take out the picture frames on the wall with it (which is fair enough, Eddie guesses).

In any case, it’s because of this that the most surprising thing about coming home to find Steve cuddling a kitten Eddie’s never seen before isn’t the fact that he’s cuddling a kitten Eddie’s never seen before, it’s that the kitten’s fur is jet black.

Steve, who steps around cracks on the sidewalk and won’t go under ladders and thinks Friday the thirteenth is an unlucky day, is cuddling a tiny black cat.

“Am I interrupting something?” Eddie asks, watching as the kitten rubs its cheek clumsily against the edge of Steve’s jaw, purring so loudly that he can hear it from where he stands by the door.

“Eddie!” Steve grins over at him from the couch, beckoning to him with the hand that isn’t currently full of feline. “C’mere, I want you to meet someone.”

“Oh, boy,” Eddie mutters under his breath; sounds like Steve’s already attached. Louder, he asks, “So who’s this?”

“I found him outside, just sitting in the road. I couldn’t leave him out there,” Steve says, gently unhooking the kitten’s claws from the collar of his shirt before presenting it to Eddie.

The thing is absolutely tiny – a ball of black fluff that fits in the palm of just one of Steve’s hands (though Steve is carefully holding it with both) and it stares up at Eddie with enormous eyes that are still baby blue.

“So… you found a random animal outside and just decided to bring it in?” Eddie asks, and he can practically hear Uncle Wayne in his tone.

“It’s cold out, and he was all wet. I couldn’t just leave him,” Steve says again, pulling the kitten back against his chest; the kitten, for its part, goes happily, rubbing its cheek against Steve’s shirt and settling in.

“But what if it has fleas, or something?” Eddie asks (he’s definitely pulling from Wayne’s playbook now; Eddie had tried to bring home so many lost pets and wild animals as a kid, ones they wouldn’t have been able to afford or that they shouldn’t have had inside at all, and Wayne had gotten pretty good at deterring him).

Steve scoffs at him. “I checked him over when I gave him a bath, he doesn’t have fleas.”

Eddie stares back. “You gave a kitten a bath?”

“I told you, he was all wet and muddy. I figured the bath would warm him up and get him clean. Two birds, one stone. He barely even scratched me!” Steve holds one hand out for Eddie to see, apparently quite proud that there’s only a handful of angry red lines there, before petting back over the kitten’s tiny head with two fingers. “He’s really well-behaved.”

Christ, it’s worse than Eddie had thought; if Steve had willingly put something wet and muddy in his car, he isn’t just attached, he’s probably already in love with the thing.

“Aren’t black cats supposed to be bad luck?” Eddie tries – a last-ditch effort.

The look Steve shoots him is pure affront. “He isn’t bad luck,” he snaps out. “I nearly hit him with my car. The fact that I managed to see him, when it was dark out, and stop in time is crazy. I think we should call him ‘Lucky,’ make it official.”

Eddie bites the inside of his lip, holding in a noise of frustration. “Baby,” he finally manages, gently as he can, “don’t you think that if he’s this affectionate and this well-behaved, it might mean that he’s already someone’s pet?”

Steve frowns, looking down at the kitten. He strokes its tiny ears with the tip of one finger and the thing purrs up a storm. “He doesn’t have any tags, or anything…”

“He’s pretty small, still, Steve. His owners just might not have gotten around to it yet,” Eddie says, reaching out and placing a hand on Steve’s leg, giving him a consoling squeeze.

Steve sighs and the kitten mirrors it, hunkering down in Steve’s hold for a nap. Steve looks back up at Eddie, and fucking hell, if the kitten’s big blue gaze hadn’t been bad enough, Steve’s puppy dog eyes are going to kill him.

Eddie hadn’t been the only one who’d wanted a pet as a kid; Steve had begged his mom and dad for a dog or a cat or a hamster or anything when he’d been younger, something to keep him company in the lonely stretches spent with disinterested babysitters and then with no one at all. He’d always been denied, told that animals were too messy and too much work, but now–

Well, now, Eddie has no idea if anyone is missing this cat, or if their apartment actually allows pets, or if they’ll even be good at taking care of an animal, but he does know that he’s always been terrible at saying no to Steve.

“How about this?” Eddie finally says. “We’ll take him to the vet, and we’ll ask around, and we’ll do the whole posters thing, and if no one calls and claims him…”

“Yeah?” A smile dawns slow and delighted across Steve’s face.

Eddie sighs, letting his head fall back in a show of put-upon defeat. “Then we’ll keep the damn cat.”

The kiss Steve gives Eddie is just as delighted as his smile, and lasts as long as it takes for the kitten to start peeping, jostled between the two of them.

(And it’s just their luck that no one ever does call to claim him.

Lucky stays.)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #imagine Steve cuddling a tiny kitten and remain unaffected #you can't do it #and neither can Eddie #solar wrote #eddiesteve

299 notes · View notes

honeyedclementine · 6 months ago

Text

beg for it

sevika x f!reader, smut, established relationship, strapping, top!sevika usage of 'good girl' (one shot, 1.8k words) ageless blogs, minors, and men dni

reply to be added to my tag list ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was rare these days that sevika came home in a playful mood. work was weighing down on her, silco's pressures getting worse and worse, but you understood, you always understood. you didn't pretend to know the extent of the work she did for silco and she never told you—you just sighed and tended to her wounds whenever she came home with them. that was how you two had met, in fact. you were one of the more notable healers in zaun, always caring for others with a gentle touch. she had come to you all those years ago when she first lost her arm and never stopped. somewhere along the way, things changed between you two and well, now you have a shared apartment in the lanes and make good use of your free time.

speaking of making good use, sevika is in a good mood when she comes home for once. it's a pleasant surprise when you hear the door while you wash up from dinner, arms wrapping around your waist—one warm, one cool. lips press into your neck and you sigh contentedly.

"good day at work, baby?" you hum, feeling the way her kiss intensifies at the pet name. she'll never admit it to your face that she likes it, but you know her and her body well enough to know what drives her crazy. her kisses grow playful as she nips at the crook of your neck, hands strong at your waist and thoroughly distract you. the plate you were cleaning slips softly into the warm soapy water of the sink as you grip the edge of the counter, eyes slipping closed.

"couldn't wait to get home," sevika mutters against your neck, biting and sucking a mark into it that you know will last for a few days. you love letting her mark you up—of course, always places you can cover up so you can maintain some professionalism when you need to, but you like knowing they're there. pressing fingers to bruises on your collarbones through your shirts, just to feel the hiss of old pain, remembering the nights you two shared. "to you."

you mewl softly against her touch, her flesh hand coming dangerously close to the waistband of your jeans. you can already feel desire pooling softly in the pits of your stomach, surely manifesting itself into a mess in your underwear. you groan as her metal hand climbs up the hem of your shirt, sharp fingers just barely grazing against an erect nipple. you moan softly, pushing your ass back against her hips and feeling her groan at the friction.

"gods, i need you," you moan, head hanging, hair falling into your face as you struggle to remain standing. she always has a way of making you weak in the knees while doing barely anything. "fuck me, please, it's been too long."

she picks up on exactly what you're asking for without you having to say much more, a chuckle falling from her lips as she pulls away from you. you mourn her warmth immediately, but her rough velvet voice washes over you as she says, "wait here, then."

a chill runs down your spine as you hear her retreat to the bedroom. she returns only moments later, this time without her jeans, a strap comfortable on her hips above her underwear. you bite your lip, tugging her close as soon as you can and smashing your lips together with the edge of the counter pressing into your back. she pulls away from you if only to tug your shirt over your head.

her hands roam your chest, flesh fingers teasing a hard nipple as she kisses along the line of your jaw, tongue exploring the hollow of your throat. her hands lower, undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them down until they're stuck around your thighs, taking your underwear with it.

she's impatient, it seems, not even bothering to remove the clothing completely before turning you around and pressing your stomach into the edge of the counter. you gasp at the strong hand she has on the back of your neck, relishing in the way she can just push you around as you see fit. you've always loved how strong she is, especially in times like this.

you gasp as the strap presses against your back, not quite where you want it. her fingers find your clit, pressing down slightly before dipping lower and gathering more of your slick desire onto her fingertips. "so ready for me already."

"fuck," you gasp as two of her thick fingers breach your entrance with little warning, stretching and preparing you for her cock. "i need you."

she leans in close, her teeth nipping softly at your earlobe, the tip of the strap just barely teasing at your entrance, not giving you nearly enough. you whimper at the contact, relishing in the warmth of her stomach pressed against your back. "beg for it."

you don't need to be told twice. "please, sevika, i need your cock, baby, please. i've been so good, give it to me, please."

"good girl," she coos, caressing your face with one hand as her lips dive against your neck once more, sucking more marks into the soft flesh.

you're practically shivering with anticipation as her metal hand tangles in your hair, getting a solid grip on it before she presses you down until your stomach is almost entirely flush with the counter. she angles the strap against your entrance, just barely pushing in as if she knows this is driving you absolutely insane. you whimper at the slightest touch, chest heaving as you crave to be filled by her.

after the initial tease, she slams into you with little warning, drawing a pleasurable scream from your lips. her grip on your hair and back keeps you where she wants you and you don't fight it, content to let her fuck you however she sees fit. despite her initial roughness, she eases you into it, rocking into you slowly and letting you get used to the fullness. you groan, making an attempt to shove your hips back against her, but the strong hand on the small of your back keeps you from doing so, causing a soft mewl to fall from your lips.

"gods, you're beautiful like this," she breathes out, so quiet you almost wonder if she even meant to say it out loud. as if trying to hide the statement, she picks up her pace, pulling out of you almost entirely before slamming back in and keeping that same rhythm over and over again.

your legs shake and you almost certainly would have fallen if not for sevika and the counter holding you up. her strong hands ground you, even as you press your face against the coolness of the counter, no thoughts in your mind except for sevika, sevika, sevika. you already know if she keeps this pace, along with the gentle hand tugging at your hair the way she knows you love, you're not going to last long at all.

"sev, baby," you moan, the words barely sounding real as they fall from your lips mingled with soft whimpers and groans. you can already feel your climax at the edges of your nerves as she fucks into you relentlessly. you can't get over how she groans like she can feel it, too, the kitchen quiet save for a mess of moans and the wet sounds of her cock pushing into you again and again. you can feel yourself leaking down the insides of your thighs, surely coating the strap in an absolute mess of desire.

"you're doing so good, so good for me," sevika coaxes more moans out of you with her soft words, your hands white-knuckling the counter as you feel your orgasm growing closer and closer. your legs feel absolutely weak as she slams into you.

your orgasm washes over you quickly, like a bucket of warm water being dumped over you as your nerves light up with the release of tension, clenching around her cock before spilling over it, making a mess of yourself. sevika continues fucking into you, barely even slowing her pace as her flesh hand moves from your back. she reaches around, trapping her wrist between your stomach and the counter as her fingers tease at your clit, applying pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves, clearly trying to draw another orgasm out of you.

you don't fight it, leaning into her touch as more incoherent moans spill from your lips, focusing only on the hand on your clit and the cock thrusting into you over and over again with little remorse. you love when she's like this—rough and unforgiving, not letting you go until she's done with you.

already sensitive from your first, it's not long before you're coming again, this time against her fingers and pushing back against her cock. her hand moves back to your hips, guiding you through is as her pace lets up only slightly. as you come down, her thrusts slow down almost entirely before she stills, her cock fully buried within you and her back pressed against yours against the counter. you ground yourself in the weight of her against you, your eyes watering slightly just from the pleasure of the stretch.

she kisses down the nape of your neck and your spine, sending shivers across your skin. after a moment, she pulls out of you slowly. you sigh, going to push yourself away from the counter, but she stops you with a hand to the small of your back. so, you stay there, hands braced against the cool counter as sevika sinks to her knees. you shudder as her tongue finds your inner thigh, cleaning up the mess she made of you.

her lips and tongue are careful around your cunt, knowing how sensitive you are right now. you sigh contentedly as she cleans you up before rising to her feet.

"baby—" you start to say, but you're cut off by her hooking her arms around your back and the backs of your knees, effectively sweeping you off your feet. you're grateful for the help, considering you're not entirely sure you'd be able to walk after that. "i can walk, you know."

sevika just tsks as she carries you to the bathroom, starting up the faucet and waiting for the water to get warm. "not if i've done my job right."

she sits you on the edge of the ceramic tub and you watch as she undoes the harness around her hips, tugging her shirt and underwear off—a silent confirmation that she'll be joining you in the bath. you reach for her hips, tugging her close as she bends down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

as soon as the bath is full, she climbs in, the tub barely big enough for her tall form, tugging you in after her and settling you against her back. you sigh, letting your eyes slip closed as she presses a kiss to your temple.

you love when sevika has a good day at work.

tag list: @puppyels @njm63522 @fict1onallyobsessed

#sevika x f!reader #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika smut #arcane fanfic #sevika arcane #sevika fanfic #sevika x fem reader #top sevika #top sevika x reader #sevika x reader fanfiction #clementine writes

372 notes · View notes