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#not to bring up old curses or anything but man… that was a Time
braisedhoney · 9 months
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When did your Undertale fixation first start? Like not this re-emergence but
the very beginning
oh fuck. you went right for the throat.
… ground zero, i think. i got into undertale a little bit before the first anniversary, which is… oh my god like seven-eight years ago now. forget sans and papyrus, my bones are creaking.
thing is right, i was always a little isolated from the rest of the fandom?? like i wasn’t able to make art i was proud of so i never posted anything, and all i really did was desperately consume comic dubs on youtube and do really shitty roleplays to try and fill the void. it was a different time (in old man voice). if i do even have any of those old drawings, they either died on a laptop drive somewhere or got lost in a box 😔 otherwise i’d share my shame.
(honestly that might have come a few years later though, those days are kind of a blur that i can’t remember.)
after that i fell outta it, but i don’t remember exactly when? i’d come and go, but that’s just how fandoms be sometimes. i think the first peak of my fandom involvement miiiight have been 2016?
man. now i’m nostalgic again, lmao.
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mysicklove · 6 months
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Summary: four-year-old Yuuji didnt mean to bring up Mr. Gojos crush on you, which of course, leads to Sukuna's harsh teasing.
cw: fem! reader (reader gets referred to as girl, pretty, and mommy), curse words, suggestive language, lion king spoilers (lol)
wc: 1.8k
a/n: i love making sukuna an absolute menace. poor yuuji tho. i think i am going to introduce gojo as a character, because I think it would be entertaining to piss Sukuna off lol.
big brother au masterlist
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“Su-kuna!”
“The fuck did you just call me?”
“Language,” You scold, not peering up from your book. Yuuji lays sprawled out on top of the both of you – his head in your lap, and practically purring in content when you gently pet the top of his head, while his little legs are on Sukuna’s thighs. 
Yuuji giggles into your shirt, shaking his head mischeviously. “Bad word Su-kuna!”
In an instant, you feel the toddler being ripped away from your lap with a tiny screech. The noise startles you, and you perk up from your book to look to where the boy has gone to. But, you aren't surprised to see him dangling in the air by his ankle – Sukuna’s long fingers skillfully hold onto Yuujis chubby little leg tight enough to not drop him, but gently enough to not cause physical harm. 
The boy doesn't seem to mind this position, being in it so frequently. Giggles and squeals leave the toddler's mouth as he stares at his now upside down brother. “You learning how to speak correctly?”
Yuuji nods his head, and his hands try to reach for Sukunas shirt. You rest your head on the man's shoulder, chuckling at the boy who was squirming in the air. “Uh-huh! F-Fush-i-guro taught me!” The dark haired toddlers last name was hard to pronounce, and it was amusing watching how Yuuji sounded it out.
Sukuna makes a loud groaning noise and you cover your mouth to hold back another laugh. “Of course you made friends with Gojo’s new brat. First he hits on my girl, and now his new kid is gonna manipulate this idiot.” He shakes Yuuji in the air to demonstrate his point, ignoring the squeals. 
You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Just because Megumi taught Yuuji how to say your name correctly, doesn't mean the kid is manipulating him. Y’know Yuuji struggles with words sometimes.” You watch as the child in turn shakes his head in defiance, letting out a “Nu-uh!” that only makes you smile. You turn back over to your lover, kissing his cheek. “Aw, does it make you sad that our little Yuuji is growing up?”
“No,” he quickly rebuttals, “Brat isnt growing up fast enough. I am mad that you're not denying the fact that the white haired idiot is flirting with you.” You know that wasn't the full truth, but alas, Sukuna was extremely stubborn and would never admit that he didn't want his brother to grow up. 
“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo thinks you are pretty!” Yuuji announces, beaming at you from the air. You hold back a wince, smiling awkwardly back at the innocent words of the toddler. You watch as the boys cheeks begin to flush from all the blood rushing to his head, and immediately as if sensing it, Sukuna flips over the boy and instead places him on his lap, holding onto the back of his neck.
The action makes you smile, noticing the thumb that rubs gently at the pale skin. But when you glance at Sukuna, you notice quickly that he was anything but happy. Sukunas dark eyes twitches, flickering to you, and he speaks between his teeth. “Did he now? I may need to have a talk with Mr. Gojo next time I pick the little pest up. Does Fushiguro say anything else?”  
“Sukuna,” you whine, realising that the hold on the boys neck was not out of affection – instead was used to trap the boy while he was questioned. “Y’know Gojo is alot. He just wants to–”
“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo has a crush on Y/N!”
“Yuuji!” 
“B-But, Y/N has a crush on brother,” the boy concludes, furrowing his eyebrows with a small nod. “Right, Ku–um–Su-kuna?” He turns up to his brother, doe eyed with his head slightly cocked to the side in question. 
In response, Sukuna ruffles his hair, nearly sending the boy landing on his back. But, instead he giggles at the rough treatment, shutting his eyes and trying his best to stay upward. “The biggest crush. You make sure to tell the little brat that. Or else Mr. Gojo is going to try take her away.”
Your eyes widen and you push at his broad shoulders. “Sukuna! You're going to get him all worked up!” You exclaim, knowing the very sensitive (regarding you or Sukuna) child very well by now. You turn to the boy, whose own eyes widen as he trying to process the words. “Gojo is not trying to take me away.”
“He is going to take her away if you don't do anything, and little Megumi is going to have a new mommy.” Sukuna was grinning at the boy, as if his brother's fearful expression pleased him. You knew that he was being purposely dramatic – Gojo wasn't even technically Megumi's father, if there was a chance that you guys would ever get together (near zero) you would definitely not be the boy's new mom. But alas, Sukuna continues on with his words. “Thats why whenever you see the two of them talking you have to make sure you to scream as loud as possible.”
You cover the mans mouth before you he can spewl any more nonsense, but it was too late. Yuuji was already tearing himself from the man's lap and into yours – his lips begin to wobble and his eyes flood with tears. “Is-um-is that what you two talk about when I am with Mr. Nanami,” he warbles, thinking back to the multitude of times he has held onto his preschool teachers hand and watched you smile at the white haired man. 
“No, love,” you reassure, turning your attention instead from scolding your lover to consoling the child. “Sukuna is being mean again. Don't listen to him. Mr. Gojo and I are friends.” You ignore the look that Sukuna shoots you, showing how displeased he is at the idea of you being friends with his least favorite person. 
The boy sniffles, wiping his little fists on his face. “I-I dont want you to be Fush-i-guro’s mommy. You have to stay with me and Kuna! P-Please?” He doesn't even attempt to say his brother's name correctly, forgetting how he started the conversation all together. He was focused on trying not to cry, because his brother was sure to tease him, but it wasn't working out very well.
You kiss at his chubby cheeks, shaking your head with an exasperated look on your face, wondering how the hell you got to this conversation. “I am not, promise. I'm not going anywhere. Even if your brother is the worst, brattiest, malicious person alive, I have kinda grown attached to him. Besides, if I left who would I have movie nights with?”
“I am not a–” You shoot Sukuna a nasty glare, and he in return lets out an astonished laugh, but shrugs without care.
Your words make Yuuji perk up from your lap, and his eyes widen with glee. “You like movie nights too?” He was always begging for the three of you to watch movies together, but Sukuna always denies him considering it would end up being a cheesy Disney movie that Yuuji would fall asleep not even twenty minutes into.
“I love movie nights. Do you want to have one tonight?”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Sukuna butts in, and you spare him a glance. “Babe, we have plans tonight, remember?” He tilts his head to the side suggestively and you roll your eyes at him.
“Not anymore. Me and Yuuji are going to watch…”
“Human Earthworm 2!” The boy interjects, completely forgetting about his previous experiences with the movie, not good ones.
You poke at his cheeks, shaking your head. “I was thinking The Lion King.” 
“Yes!”
“No,” Sukuna groans, covering his eyes with his palm.
You look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No? Why are you putting your input in? You're not watching it with us.”
Sukuna, never have been told this before, looks appalled. “The fuck you mean?”
“Bad word!” Yuuji points to him in accusation, but Sukuna just ignores him.
You cock your head to the side, a sly grin pulling at your face. “You're not invited.”
“Why not?”
The two of you make eye contact for a long second, and after a moment or two, Sukuna sighs. “You're really mad about that?” You don't say anything, just continuing to stare at him. “Okay fuck–Yes that is a curse word, astute observation you brat. I am sorry for making the kid cry again.”
“And?”
Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, but you hold your ground. Then, he turns to the boy with a sigh. “Dont scream when you see Gojo and Y/N talk, alright?” He jabs his finger into the boys chest and Yuuji nods his head rapidly in understanding. But, a foxish grin pulls at the mans face and he says, “Instead…The moment you hear him talk to her, you bite his leg.”
He barks a laugh at the confused face of his brother, but when he looks up to you, the smile falters. “Okay, c’mon it was a jo–”
You point your finger to the door. “Couch.”
“You can't kick me out of my own room!”
You don't move your finger. Yuuji glances at you, cocks his head to the side, and then mimicks your action. “Couch!”
The three of you go silent for a long minute, and at this point the boy's hand begins to tremble from holding his hand out for too long. Eventually when Sukuna realizes that there was no point of reasoning, he lets out a dramatic sigh, before crawling out of bed. 
When he notices your smug smile, he flips you off and you can't help but laugh at that. “I am coming back after the movie is done, ya hear?”
“If Yuuji does not fall asleep,” You tease in return, knowing the boy well, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. 
His eyes flicker to the boy who was snuggling up to your chest, trying to find a comfortable position to watch the movie in. Sukuna chuckles to himself, opening up the door, before turning back to the kid one last time. “Hey brat,” he calls.
“Hm?” 
“The father lion–Mufasa. He is my favorite character, so you'll bound to like him a lot. In fact, I sure do wonder if you'll get attached,” he muses, and your eyes widen when you realize what he is saying. Anything that is linked with Sukuna, Yuuji immediately falls in love with. This was bound to cause hysteria. “Enjoy the movie guys! Y/N have fun!” He calls, before shutting the door.
You pause for a moment, sighing into your hand. “Kuna likes the father lion? I want to see!”
You tried everything to avoid turning on the movie after that. But Yuuji, like his brother, was stubborn, and he desperately wanted to see the lion. He grew attached very quickly in that short period of time.
Deep laughs rumble through the house when Yuuji begins to sob over the animated lion's death. You lock the door, and Sukuna stays the night on the couch. 
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alexthetrashyracoon · 3 months
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Simon wants to marry you.
This fact was as clear as rain on his mind. You were the love of his life, he was ready to settle down with you and grow old.
So Simon prepared everything for that special day, it was your fourth year anniversary and Simon wants to ask you the biggest question someone could ask and he hoped, maybe even prayed despite not believing in any higher deity, that you would say 'yes' to his proposal.
He has planned out the whole day, from the moment you woke to the moment you would close your eyes for the night again, everything was supposed to be perfect.
Simon brings you breakfast in bed, watching your smile brighten when you see the freshly pressed orange juice and the fresh buns, still warm from the bakery. "Happy Anniversary." He whispers before slipping back into bed behind you, pulling you between his legs and stealing some of the freshly cut Mango from your plate.
When breakfast is over, you two made a mess out of each other while trying to feed each other, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, telling you to get ready and that he has a lot of plans for today which causes you to become perceptive. Immediately starting to question him about his plans, but he's still a trained soldier, he withstands your flow of questions.
Another plan of Simon for today was bringing you to a fair, the same one you two met four years ago.
Here he wanted to ask you to marry him, on top of the Ferris wheel where you two had been stuck together four years ago due to a technical issue with the electronic.
But after spending a few hours walking the fair ground, having to walk back to his car once to bring Lord Otto from Otterson, the plush Otter he won you at one of the stupid and usually very rigged fair games, to safety and out of the way. You make it to the Ferris wheel and Simon's face fell.
"Out of order..." He breathes and runs a hand through his short blonde hair, staring up at the still standing wheel and the dangling cable cars.
"Damn." You curse softly next to him and scratch your neck. "Well, maybe we can ride it another day, mhm?"
"Yeah, maybe. Well, we can't change anything now." He chuckles and squeezes the velvety box in his back pocket. Keeping it safe until you two would reach the next destination.
The small restaurant by the corner where you two lived was filled with loud voice, happy laughter, children running around, not that Simon minded, he knew you were a very outgoing person and enjoyed the social interactions from such evenings.
Simon had reserved a table a few weeks ago and the waiter brings you and him over, Simon shushing the poor man who just wants to help you sit.
He is your boyfriend, bloody hell, he can do something so simple as helping you get seated.
"I know it is our anniversary, Simon," You chuckle as you put down the glass of wine Simon has ordered for you and him, "But something feels different. I just don't know what. Special..."
"Four years is just a long time, love. Maybe your brain finally catches up with... wha-?" Simon wants to be cheesy with you before asking you the question of all questions when suddenly his feet feel wet and he looks down, seeing water come from the kitchen.
His second attempt of asking for your hand has been sabotaged by a broken water pipe.
Simon curses internally as he carries you back outside, not wanting to get your feet wet and cause you catching some flu.
Well, there is only the romantic walk through the nearby park which is empty around this time of the night, so you two can walk around the pond and watch the fireflies and swans before he can go down on one knee and finally ask.
But before he even get you through the sturdy iron gates that allowed entrance to the park, his phone rang, Prices' number on the screen and everything in Simon screams to ignore his Captain for the sake of your relationship and your future.
He apologizes and takes the call, listening to Price explaining that they've got information about a certain Russian Terrorist planning an attack and that they had to meet within the next hour.
"It's fine." You reassure him when he brings you back to your shared apartment, squeezing his hand with a gentle smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today with at my side. And saving the world is much more important. We can celebrate another time, Si."
"You're too forgiving." Simon replies and presses his chapped lips against your forehead. "But it's not fine. I had the whole day planned out. And the universe seems against me at all, bloody hell. All I wanted to do tonight was asking you to marry me. And everything I've tried blew. The Ferris Wheel, the restaurant, even the walk..."
You cut him off before he can talk himself into a frenzy by wrapping your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes and planting your lips on his.
"Yes." You grin when you pull back. "Yes, I will marry you, Simon Riley. I will marry you."
Maybe he should have simply asked you this morning during breakfast, might have saved him from getting another grey hair on his head. But sometimes the simple answer is hidden behind the complicated ideas.
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daemour · 5 months
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I Can See You
Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn
Word Count: 10,137
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences
Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.
Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay
thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa, we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long
-
“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”
“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”
When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.
“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.
“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.
Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.
He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”
Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”
You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.
“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”
You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”
“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.
Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”
Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.
“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”
You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”
A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”
The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"
The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."
Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"
Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.
"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."
Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.
Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"
Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.
"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.
"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."
You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”
"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."
"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"
Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"
Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."
Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.
“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”
With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”
You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”
Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”
You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”
Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”
You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”
Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.
A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.
As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.
-
You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.
Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.
But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.
“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”
Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.
You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.
You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.
Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”
It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”
You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”
You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.
“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”
You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”
You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”
“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”
Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.
“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”
Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”
“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”
“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.
“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”
With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.
“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”
Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”
Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.
“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”
Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”
Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”
You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.
“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”
A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”
Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.
“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”
Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”
You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”
Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.
“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”
You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.
“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”
You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”
Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”
“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.
“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”
You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”
Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”
The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.
“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.
“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”
Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.
You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”
He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.
“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”
You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”
As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”
You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.
-
These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.
Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.
Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.
You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.
With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.
At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.
“Is that me?”
A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.
“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”
After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”
You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”
One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”
You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.
But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.
“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”
You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”
Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.
You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”
“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.
Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.
But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”
“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”
Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”
You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.
“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”
-
It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.
And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.
These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.
It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.
That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.
As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.
As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.
Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.
But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.
Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.
“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.
“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”
“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”
Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”
You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”
“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”
“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”
The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.
“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”
The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.
-
Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”
Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”
He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”
He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.
“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”
He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”
He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”
As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.
It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.
But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.
“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.
“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.” 
Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.
As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.
He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—
Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.
-
When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.
You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.
“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”
A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.
“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.
“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.
“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”
You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”
You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”
“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”
Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”
As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.
With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.
After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”
Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”
You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”
Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”
His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”
Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”
“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.
“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”
You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”
As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.
His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”
An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.
“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.
He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.
You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”
“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.
With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.
“Seonghwa–”  you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.
“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.
“Then don’t.”
Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.
“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”
You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”
Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.
You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.
“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.
The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”
You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.
As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.
And he still hasn’t come.
“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.
His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.
You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”
Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.
You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?” 
Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.
His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.
“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.
“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.
“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.
“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”
You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”
With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.
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hor3nee · 3 months
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• Fatherhood •
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What kind of dads are the JJK men ?
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CW/TW: GN! Reader, Mentions of crappy parenting, BREIF mention of pregnancy in Geto's, (Lmk if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji x Reader
AN: Almost cried writing this the baby fever is going HARD rn dude. Headcanons !
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• Gojo •
Menace of a father, but in the good way! Gojo spends his years raising his kids as if he's their best friend, truly and genuinely treats his kids as equals and in a sweet way, allows his children to have complete trust in him. Because Gojo is quite childish himself, he loves playing with his kids, making a fool of himself, and indulging with them.
Has a bit of a bad side to this though, his lack of traditional discipline or making himself the 'adult' in the situation leads the kids to both be very spoiled and not really ever listen to him.
"Sweetheart, darling, my perfect angel, can you please go to bed?? pretty please! Help your old man here, please??"
"Nuh uh!" And with that bout of defiance, he's back to running up to you, like HE'S the child, begging for your help. Because it seems you're the only one who can get the kids in line, and you do.
Plays pranks and teases the hell out of his kids as they get older, always in a loving way of course, but nonetheless loves getting them flustered over his stupidity. Type of dad to do dumbass dances in the middle of a Walmart to embarrass his kids.
• Geto •
Geto is optimum of what it means to be a gentle parent. Cannot, for the life of him, bring it in himself to yell at his kids. He's so soft-spoken, never so much as raising his voice against his children. Geto has children who respond to his voice alone, because it's so lulling, he's familiarized them with it and made them feel safe with it.
Doesn't mean he can't discipline them, of course he can, and he does so extremely gracefully. Whenever you're on your last straw with the kids, fighting the urge to start scolding them and yell, he steps in, smoothly taking over and the kids instantly listen to him.
"We're your parents, honey, c'mon that's not very nice to say, is it? They carried you for 9 months you know. Say sorry." Like magic the kids shut up and come over to you apologizing while Geto stands back, calmly having fixed the situation with ease.
With everything Geto does, has done, experienced etc, he can sometimes feel conflicted. Geto knows what he is capable of, and what he has done, he's extremely self-aware even if he justifies it, and he can struggle to balance the weight of all of it while also remaining a dutiful father.
Despite it, he does wonders keeping it separate from what his children have to see or experience, teaches them respect and kindness and hopes they hold true to it.
• Nanami •
Not a single man on this list fathers as hard as Nanami fathers. He's built for it like no other. Nanami treats fatherhood with his all, he puts his all into it and makes damn certain he does right by it. Stern when necessary, sweet when needed, provides for his kids and refuses to miss any important milestone of theirs.
Nanami is a calm man but the second work starts piling potentially making him miss his kids school play or something he's arguing with his supervisors and ready to throw hands.
He keeps the drawings his kids make on his desk, alongside a photo of you and your kids. Literally just stares at it while working smiling, unable to wait till he's home with the kids. They are his pride and joy genuinely.
No matter how over-worked Nanami may be though, when he comes home you are basically on vacation. Insists you rest and he takes over literally everything involving the kids.
"Darling, darling no, I got this covered. You take rest. You know I love spending time with my kids." He says with an earnest smile, both kids in his beefy arms just dangling around and playing with their father. He's definitely exhausted from work, but that never stops him.
• Sukuna •
The King of the Curses, as cruel and terrifying as he is, taking pleasure in all sorts of sickness and treating love as pointless, legitimately likes his kid.
He doesn't care about fatherhood, or the responsibilities that being a parent entails, but it's nice having a mini version of himself around. That he likes. An extension of himself and you, it's nice to have around he doesn't mind it. He may act aloof about it, not outwardly showing affection like hugs or kisses, but he clearly enjoys it.
He gets a massive ego trip when his kids cause chaos and disturbances. Points at them laughing with his belly "See that? That's mine."
Sukuna never minces his words though, and his kids have to get used to his bluntness. Again, he doesn't care for the concept of 'parenting', and will in their face call the kid some extreme insults and weak and they have to learn to take it.
On the flip side, Sukuna also never minces his praise, and Sukuna has an abundance to give his kids. Every accomplishment or show of strength that they show he'll let them know he's proud. A good ol' fashioned fatherly slap to their shoulder while he praises them.
He treasures his children, and even if he doesn't put much effort into parenting them, you taking over most of it, he's definitely a present figure in their lives.
• Toji •
Went to get milk, hasn't been seen since.
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rinniessance · 7 months
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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.
these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.
“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”
“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”
“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”
“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.
“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.
“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.
“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”
“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.
“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”
you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.
“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.
what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.
oh, you will be so much fun to break.
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gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.
you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.
you’re so fucked.
you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.
“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.
“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.
gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.
“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.
“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,
he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.
“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”
“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away
“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”
for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.
you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.
“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.
when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.
gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.
“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.
satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.
he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?
you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.
gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.
you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.
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kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.
your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.
air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.
when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.
you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?
conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.
you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.
“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”
before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?
rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.
“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”
not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.
“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.
exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.
yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.
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“did i do something wrong?”
you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.
“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”
“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”
satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.
“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.
gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.
“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.
“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.
“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”
“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.
“show me how sorry you are.”
before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.
“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.
“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”
“y-yes…”
“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.
“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”
gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.
“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”
immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.
a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.
“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”
“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.
“’m sorry daddy.”
gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.
“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”
he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.
your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.
“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.
gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.
“is my princess close?”
“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”
“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”
these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.
“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.
“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”
gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.
“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.
“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.
“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”
with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.
“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”
gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.
“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.
“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”
“yes, sorry daddy.”
“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.
the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.
your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.
“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”
“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”
“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”
you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.
“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.
gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.
“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”
you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.
“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”
you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.
“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”
you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?
“yes daddy, anything for you.”
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dclovesdanny · 5 months
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Something I will never get enough of is Danny killing the Joker. However, something I want to see more of, is Danny killing the Joker for Ellie.
Like, Jason and Danny are neighbors and they’ve been friends for a little while. Jason knows Danny has the 20 something year old mechanic with a six-year-old daughter who is an absolute gremlin. He really likes them both, and he might have a little crush on his neighbor.
Then when they are out at the park or something, the Joker attacks. The joker decides to grab a hostage and who does he grab, but this six year old girl who only seems to have one person who knows her, a scrawny 20 something person. She has dark hair and blue eyes and only person who seems to care about her is her older brother/possible father? Perfect bait for Batman.
He wasn’t counting on Danny being able to fight god for his family. He didn’t realize that Danny will do anything to protect his family, that, in his literal core, he is sworn to protect his people, no matter the cost. the joker did not realize that Danny loves Ellie enough to not only die (again) for her, but to kill for her.
The Joker doesn’t die to Batman, or in some big battle. The Joker dies to a man no one knew because the Joker kidnapped his daughter. The joker dies, because he forgot that not everyone has the same hangups about killing that Batman does. The Joker dies because he pushed a parent too far.
Jason is there during all of this. I think he’s either there as red hood, watching through the cameras, or there is Jason. All three of these have many different pros for various forms of angst.
If Jason is there as red hood, he’s probably with some of the batfamily, and they are holding him back from killing the Joker. They’re trying to figure out how to make it so that the joker won’t kill this little girl, and Jason is going feral because that is his kid. That is the little gremlin who lives next-door, who knocks on his door and treats him like a jungle gym. That’s his kid. When he sees Danny jump at the Joker, he’s going to have a straight up panic attack and he’s gonna get the guns ready, but he doesn’t need to.
If he’s there as Jason, I think the joker would also take him hostage. Jason Wayne, the brat who would get him a lot of money. Especially if the Joker knows that this was the second Robin, because this just means he can get two killed in one swoop. And Jason is trying to protect Ellie with everything in him, cursing himself for not bringing a gun with him and praying that this time Bruce isn’t too late. And he can see the pain in Danny’s eyes and he is so scared to lose this family he has. He praised to a God he doesn’t believe in this time, history won’t repeat itself.
I feel like it would be most painful, if he’s watching through cameras. He’s probably injured or in the middle of doing something for his civilian life . Maybe he’s even out of town, but turned the camera on to look out for the joker, and had a heart attack when he saw the little girl next-door being held by the Joker. This man is trying so hard to get there, breaking every traffic law, praying that he won’t be too late that this won’t be the same as his death. His trauma is excruciating, because this feels like when he was waiting for Bruce and Bruce not getting there until it was too late.
No matter which of these scenarios, he needs to see Danny snap and kill the joker. Maybe, in the camera scenario, it’s just this he arrives that he sees it. Either way, he needs to see the moment, the Joker dies at the head of a single father, and the parallel of Bruce and him and Danny and Ellie need to be very apparent. Because this time the dad wasn’t afraid to kill.
This is the moment I feel, Jason would fully acknowledge that he would do anything for these people. That these two neighbors of his have become his family. The moment he sees the two of them holding each other, and the jokers body at their feet, I guarantee you this man is fighting tooth and nail not to go over his red hood exposed them. if he’s Jason, he can run into hug them no problem, but if he’s red hood, he’s not going to be able to do that.
This man will fight with Batman if he even that should get in trouble for killing the Joker. He will threaten to never ever speak to Bruce ever again, will be ready to bribe the police into letting Danny go, we will race every camera footage out there of the event, will do anything for this family.
Later that day, he won’t have nightmares of the Joker for the first time in a while. He will be able to look at his family and rest easy, knowing that there’s no way that Joker can take them from him.
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sukunas-wife · 5 months
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Ryoumen “i want a second son” Sukuna except he gets a feral little princess who matches his energy and is not above taking big bites of dad and only yuuji-nii can control her sksks
Eegehehe- warning- I suck at writing for girls actually😭 I’ve never had a younger sister or niece 🥹 my female cousins are literally non existent also,
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The doctor became nervous after your newborn started crying. The maids made quick work of taking care of everything and handing you your child already bundled up. Sukuna was just as confused before he took his child from you, carefully unfolding the blanket.
The room was silent, everyone turning to Sukuna, for a brief second your aching muscles were numb that you didn’t feel after birth. You were nervous, what happened, why didn’t anyone say anything? Sukuna held the child with two large hands supporting it, using his other two hands to carefully pull back the blanket. He didn’t lift his head, but you watched his mouth gape slightly like he wanted to say something. He turned his head slightly, settling on just looking at you through the corner of his eyes. It was a low rasp “she’s a girl,” he cleared his throat wrapping her back up. Without a doubt it was his, his pink hair, she had even taken to his red eyes like Yuji had. His fixed stare didn’t show it but he was concerned for her, even if he had wanted a second son, “Lord Sukuna we co-No.” he turned to Uraume, “It’s my child regardless if it’s a boy or not. She stays here.” He leaned back, handing you your daughter.
After everyone had cleared the room you were breastfeeding your child. Sukuna sat with arms crossed, eyes closed and his head resting back against the wall. You were staring down at your little girl and you realised, “You didn’t want a daughter because it’s going to force you to settle down.” You were grinning like a fool when you turned to look at Sukuna, he grunted not opening an eye or looking at you. “I’d be a fool to let anything happen to my daughter.”
You hummed, “If she’s anything like you I’m sure she can handle her own like Yuji when she’s older.” Sukuna opened an eye looking at you, “Anya..” you turned to look at him. “Her name is Anya.” There was no room to argue with him on that. He stood up, “I’ll bring Yuji.”
He left the room before you mocked him “oouu I’m Sukuna I’m gonna protect my daughter I’m a big bad tough guy.” You scoffed to yourself, “He doesn’t realise he’ll never hurt another child again Anya.” Leaning down you kissed her little head, and she barely opened her eyes.
—————
“hehehe” Sukuna was sitting on his throne head resting on his fist, eyes closed. You left a while ago to do something he already forgot about. Yuji wanted to go with you but Anya held him back, Anyways was an anomaly. She had no cursed energy or presence. Yet she still had the power to read minds, it was something that baffled Sukuna.
He learned she had that power at the worst time, when you were all gathered eating breakfast. When he thought about getting a collar. Anya just jumped excited “are we getting a dog like the one’s old man sells in town?!” Everyone looked concerned at Anya and she pointed at your husband with a bright smile, “Papa was thinking about buying a collar!” You looked at Sukuna “When did you- Right now! He was thinking about looking for a collar and a really good one so it doesn’t slip up or come loose.” It was the heat on your cheeks when you realised what collar he meant, but you were more concerned when you thought he was actually saying these things out loud in front of Anya.
Sukuna was looking away trying to clear his throat, ‘What the hell is this brat on about? I didn't say that shit out loud… did I?’
“OOOO PAPA SAID A BAD WORD!” Anya covered her mouth with her hands and she turned to you, your mind was drawing a blank ‘…what..what’s going on…”
Yuji was spaced out shovelling food into his face before he looked over, “Anya sit down don’t stand on the chair.” She listened to his not so demanding verse and sat down, “okay Yuji-nii.” She plopped down in her chair before perking up, “Are we getting a dog?”
Sukuna cleared his throat again looked right at her, if his hunch was right, ‘No, we’re not bringing some mangy mutt into the house’
Anya deflated and rested her chin on the table pouting, “why not?” ‘Because I said so.’ “Then why’d you say?” ‘Because I’m the owner of this house I decide what goes and comes.’ Anya sighed, getting teary eyed, trying her best to plead silently the way Yuji had taught her. Yuji snickered and he turned to you, you were sitting down whispering and asking Yuji if he knew what was going on. He explained to you that he figured out Anya could read minds not too long ago when she kept beating him in stone, parchment, shears, (please I’m sorry😭), hide and seek, and their little treasure hunting games. What he didn’t tell you was he also used her to out scam the guy who shuffles a gold token and bets money you’ll never find it.
It explained to you why Sukuna was just giving her looks and she was vocally responding.. it left you to worry how many of your thoughts she had actually heard. 😭
On a side note- here are some cannon events in the process of Anya growing up 😭😭
As a baby she was menace 🥺 she liked biting/trying to chew her dads fingers when he’d poke her cheeks. Not a cute nibble either, she’d dive in predicting the “If you eat his finger you’ll get stronger”
When she took hold of his finger the first time he was in love. That was his daughter and she meant the world to him. Then she dug her nails hard into his skin making him wince and immediately clip her nails. But when you don’t clip her nails because you're scared you’ll hurt her he always ends up with a scratched chest and hands when she’d try to take hold of something. She’s the reason he started wearing shirts even if they were uncomfortable on his massive arms 😔
Was kinda glad she didn’t sleep in the bed with both of you. She loved sleeping on his chest and Sukuna did also. But only allowed it when he could put those baby gloves on her.
After hitting age one she loved messing with Yuji and Sukuna while they were sleeping. You continuously went after her picking her up with your hand sunder her arms. She’s let out her baby screams and wiggle her body you could hear your husband’s attitude, “unhand me mother! I crave chaos! Ahahahsgsghshss!”
The older she got the more both of you learned the way Yuji admired his dad but was a total mama’s boy? It was almost the same case. Except she admired her dad.. and was a daddy girl. Yes she loved you and thought the world of you, but daddy’s so cool because he has so many cool powers! 🥺
It didn’t matter if she was sleeping in your arms, she was laughing and having the best time with you. If she even felt or heard the slightest sound, meaning Ryomen was in the room, she would scream and cry for him to pick her and take her with him. The same case as Baby Yu, you were jealous Ryo got all the attention and baby love even if they were attached to your chest most of the time.
Speaking of jealous, Yuji was the most jealous little 10 year old boy 🥹 “MY DADDY!” He’d carry Anya back to you so he could sit in HIS dads lap. Sukuna found it amusing and more often than not bullied Yuji. Which actually led to your funny little schedule where when Anya was briefly awake Yuji would be glued to your side. When Anya was asleep Yuji would run and stick to his dads side.
Sukuna has a permanent dent in his side boob where 2yo old Anya crawled over to him on your bed and then latched on, i don’t mean milk- i mean she saw a mound of flesh and went ‘nom’ He grunted and it took everything in him to not swat her instantly. He sat up after pulling her away. She was dangling by her feet clapping her hands and laughing, Sukuna was pressing his hand to his chest helping himself and cursing because no way he really let this brat catch him off guard and mess him up 😭
Which is also when it hits him, she has no presence because she has no cursed energy. He was disappointed but relieved she’d never have a reason to be caught in trouble 🥹
Here’s a little montage of moments 🥹
An invisible child means invisible crimes. Sure, Ryomen could actively tell where she was. But it’s his child he could let his guard down and close his eyes to think about the things he had to do. Breathing became slower the more he started to relax almost to napping completely.
1…2…3…4… “YUJIII NIII I GOT THE THING”
Kamutoke… she took the Kamutoke
Sukuna was going to get up and chase after her but she tripped and face planted into the shiny floors Sukuna had to pick her up and wipe off her tears and snot while telling Uraume to put up his tool because there was no doubt in his mind Yuji or Anya would kill the other with it by mistake
Anya loves her parents, but when Sukuna is thinking Sinister thoughts she runs to Yuji.
Ex. The four of you went out into the city, Anya was riding on her dad’s shoulders the way Yuji used to. She was patting away on his head when she heard the thought, “I should kill that man, I’ll start by slowly gutting him a- wwaahhhhh” followed by squirming and Anya basically jumping over knocking down Yuji. When you asked her what was wrong she said “…nothing… papa is kinda scary.”
Yuji had to piggy back her the rest of the day when she didn’t feel like walking but she sang her cute little “Family ooting” song
This is both Yuji and Anya when daddy’s home ,
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(I’m sorry I’m so bad at writing for girls 😭 I don’t have a niece to spoil or interact with, I’ll have to steal my friend and her little sister next time and play with her 🥹 I’ll do better for next one i promise 😤)
Tag: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @dolliira @ilovemybabies378
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mammonsrockstargf · 15 days
Text
Solomon has a bad leg. At first, he didn't really notice it, or maybe he just assumed that he pulled a muscle or something. Whenever he's been sitting down for a while and he has to get up, he feels a slight pull in his right leg. When he has to bend down to grab the thing he dropped or get on his knees to collect a certain root, a small, sharp pain shoots up through his leg.
Solomon has lived a long time. He's experienced a lot of pain, but it's always gone away eventually. Sometimes he needed a healing spell, or he would borrow a little power from one of his pacts to heal it. But this stupid pain in his leg won't go away, no matter what he does. He's tried every single healing method he remembers, and it just won't stop. 
He feels silly. He feels helpless. He wonders if the years have finally caught up to him. 
He wonders if all the times you teasingly called him an old man were just a secret ploy to curse him. Because he certainly feels like an old man now. 
He's good at hiding his pain. Expertly, in fact. So it takes a while for you to notice. But you do, and when you do, you get really upset. 
"You’ve been hiding this from me? Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, and Solomon sighs and grips his leg. It's so stiff that he has a hard time walking around on it. Usually, it isn't all that bad, but he was in the human world the other day, and the temperatures were unusually cold, and now his leg is acting up, and wow the world really isn’t on his side these days.
"I didn't want you to worry," is all he responds, and you cross your arms, staring furiously at him, trying to control your temper. 
"I want to worry about you. I want to know if you're hurting!" you say, and Solomon feels a flash of annoyance. Not with you, but with himself. For making you worry and for making you upset. 
You go to him and cup his face, worry etched into your face from the way your eyebrows furrow to the way your lips purse. "Let me in," you ask, and Solomon feels his heart swell with sorrow. You give so easily, you open so easily, you never ever blame him for anything. So why can't he do this one thing for you? 
"I've been alone for so long," he says, and you nod, bringing him closer to you. Your foreheads touch, your noses brush against each other, and he closes his eyes, surrendering himself to your care. 
After that, whenever his leg acts up, you hand him an ibuprofen. The first time you do, Solomon feels very silly. All this wisdom, and it never once occurred to him to take a pill. What's even worse is that the pill works. His leg begins to feel better.
It still acts up sometimes, but you recognise the signs by now and hand him the pill each time without a single word. 
And he no longer feels silly. He just feels very loved.
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a/n: i'm working on a longer fic, and i wanted to post a lil something, so here's a quick little thought i had. hope you enjoyed it, thank you for reading, mwah mwah mwah <- free kisses for anyone who wants one.
read more here. >:D
divider by @/cafekitsune.
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liyawritesss · 11 months
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ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ
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Characters: Spider-Verse!Earth-42!Miles Morales [The Prowler] x Black!Fem!Reader
Type: Fic
Word Count: 1.9k
Synopsis: Miles tells his Uncle Aaron the real reason why he’ll always answer his phone for you.
Warnings: Cursing, no usage of [y/n] or second person perspective, brief mention of potential gun usage, old school gang terms (Aaron refers to a gun as a 'pole') I envisioned a late teen 42!Miles so he’s around 17-18 here, but still keep it cute this is lil cuz we talkin’ bout here!!!
A/N: I know I said that the previous fic would more than likely be my only attempt at 42!Miles but the ugly ass nigga is growing on me so…here yall go i guess
Song Suggestions: “So Into You” (Remix) by Sydney Renae; “LORD FORGIVE ME” by Tobe Nwigwe ft. Fat Nwigwe & Pharrell; “Run Tha Streetz” by Tupac, Storm, Mutah, Michel’le
Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @briology @honeybleed @pnkweb
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It went without saying that if it didn’t pertain to family or business, Aaron wasn’t quite fond of the use of phones.
He had a real old school view on them; didn’t like how kids these days were always stuck nose deep into the devices. Of course, he came from a generation where a phone’s only use was to contact another person. He never got into the hype of the latest iPhones, nor did he understand the need for five different cameras attached to the device. The only benefit he saw with the rectangular device was that it made communication more prompt and precise (though he’d never admit that he appreciated being able to play any games he wanted, at his disposal, at any time he wished).
So, naturally, when Miles became old enough to engage in his ‘business’, the one rule Aaron posed that didn’t pertain to the ‘game’ was that him being on his phone was an absolute no-go.
“I ain’t got time for you to be distracted by that thing,” he’d said the very first night Aaron trusted the younger to bring him along, “if you gon’ be in, I need you to be all the way in. No half-assin’ this shit, you hear?”
And of course, Miles agreed, no matter how insufferable the first few weeks of patrol were when Aaron literally locked his cellular device in a safe back at the workshop. While it served to pry the connection the fifteen year old had with the device at the time, it was also his way of teaching Miles to not rely on the device for communication, prompting Miles to fortify new avenues of such. Aaron had a genius nephew, after all, and expected nothing less from the person who would soon take up his mantle as The Prowler.
Though, Aaron started to notice a shift in the practice behavior a few months ago, and it made him wonder had his teachings begun to fall short, even after a few years of the settled routine.
He’d notice the flexing of the younger’s arm whenever the faint buzz from the vibration of Miles’ phone sounded, no doubt squeezing the device in his pocket with his hand.
Aaron also was not ignorant to Miles’ dipping off to the side to answer a quick call in hushed tones, and the words used to address the other person on the line made it clear to the older man that it wasn’t Rio calling him, and it piqued Aaron’s curiosity even more.
Though, Aaron could never say anything, since Miles was sure to put his phone on do not disturb before heading out into the night, and the calls always remained under a minute or two, not taking too much time away from their very serious business. He found himself frustrated because Aaron couldn’t be mad at him for being responsible for his phone usage, despite his own feelings towards the usage of such devices. Yet, it irked him all the same when Miles would take a peek at his phone during a moment of down time, or when he’d caught the boy staring at his messages a couple of times during a debriefing session.
“Aye, c’mon man,” Aaron finally grumbles out one night, sucking his teeth at the sight of Miles tapping away on the brightly lit screen close to his face, illuminating his melanated features, “I need you outta that shit, we got work to do.”
“A’ight, a’ight,” says the younger as he finishes off a text, pocketing his phone and brushing past Aaron briskly, “just had to answer my girl real quick. I’m off it.”
“You better be,” Aaron scolds, “we need you at a’hunnid tonight, Miles. No excuses.”
Though Aaron wasn’t about to let Miles’ admission slip under the radar, the current task at hand was much more pressing than the revelation that his nephew was seeing someone. He’d have to play the father figure role after tonight's mission was complete.
It’s when the deepest shade of midnight blue begins to fade into faint purple hues that Aaron is able to bring up the conversation once again. He tries to make it light, but over the years, his smooth talk has become just as rustic as his Prowler skills. “I’m gon’ have to bring the safe out again if I keep seein’ that phone, Miles.”
The echo of the younger sucking his teeth in annoyance doesn’t fly past Aaron’s head. It’s the response he expected from his nephew. He turns around from his work desk to face the younger, leaning against one of the many concrete pillars that keep the building intact.
“I’m serious, boy,” Aaron asserts, “you been on that phone a lil’ too much lately, man. I’on like it.”
Miles scratches the side of his face; he knows he doesn’t have much of a good excuse to use as to why his eyes have been more on his phone as of late. Well, not an excuse Aaron would find plausible anyway.
“A’ight, Unc. I’ll chill.”
It’s not the exact response that Aaron expects, but if Miles says that he’ll watch his phone activity, the older believes him. The younger has no reason to lie to him, anyway.
A beat passes before Aaron starts again, crossing to the middle of the room where the large, red punching bag.
“So, is she a good distraction,” he muses with a knowing look, “or do I gotta be worried that she gon’ take your head out the game?”
The younger pauses for a second, braids dancing along his shoulder. Then, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips as his head tilts to the side, his eyes wandering. Aaron knows that kind of look. It’s the look of a boy high on love, and from the way Miles fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, Aaron can deduct that it’s that good loving, too. The kind of loving that Rio gave Jefferson, and it stole the late brother’s heart. It warms his heart to see his nephew sport a look that someone his age should.
“She’s good.” Miles says. “She’s…real good, Tio. Too good, probably.”
Aaron hums in response, the sound coming from the depths of his throat as he pauses, taking in a breath. “Do she know?”
It’s a hard question to ask; Aaron doesn’t want to blow his nephew’s high, but it’s a necessary one to ask. For the safety of all parties involved.
Miles’ smile falters in the slightest, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes cast downward.
“She know I do shit on the low. Not…all this, though.” And from the tone in Miles’ voice, he, too, knows that it’s better this way.
The older begins to walk towards the stairs to exit the workshop building, gesturing to Miles to follow, “Good.”
Aaron thinks back to when he first remembers the diversion of behavior started. Although it wasn’t and never became aggressive, it started with Miles casually peeking at his phone every now and then, maybe once or twice throughout the whole night the two were set together. He puts two and two together, his head nodding to the conclusion he’d drawn.
“So it’s her you be textin’?” Aaron asks, descending the stairs.
The younger nods, following in tow, “Just lettin’ her know that I’ma be out and can’t answer the phone, shit like that.”
“And when she do call?”
A light, dry chuckle escapes Miles’ lips at the question. “She just be askin’ me shit.”
“Shit like what?” Aaron muses, twisting the knob to the door leading outside, opening it to reveal purple hues slowly fading into peach in the sky. “What color nails for her to get? Password to the Netflix?”
They get to the car, but the silence that takes place during the short time it takes to approach the older’s vehicle answers his own question before Miles does.
“Yeah, actually,” the younger voice, arms folding atop the car roof, leaning against the sleek black metal as he looks at his uncle, “and the color for her peek-a-boo braids; and if it’s okay if she eats my leftover takeout; and if I can hang up her wall art thingy when I come by-”
“-so what you’re saying is, she’s clingy?” The older’s eyebrows furrow in amusement and slight confusion - the way Miles speaks about the isolated experiences has him questioning what kind of girl his nephew was actually dating.
“You know what’s crazy, though, Tio?” The younger poses, pulling the handle to the passenger car door when he hears the click, signifying Aaron unlocking the vehicle finally. “She’s not clingy like that; it’s somethin’ else.”
“You’re losin’ me, kid.” The older chuckles, closing his door once he’s settled inside the driver's seat.
Miles sucks his teeth, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in thought, and Aaron can tell that the younger is trying to find the right words to distinguish what he means.
“I hear guys say that shit like that is annoying,” Miles begins, tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it down from riding up his toned stomach, “but it ain’t like that to me. She asks me all these things; think maybe it’s because she feels safe enough to ask them of me. And if she feel like I got the answers for her, then-”
The younger stops mid-sentence, contemplating how to proceed with his explanation. Yet, Aaron is all ears, listening intently. Quite frankly, it’s the most he’s heard Miles talk about anything in a long time - his rambling reminds him of the old Miles that once was, before the unfortunate.
Then, the younger takes a deep breath, reclines back into his seat, legs spread in the slightest for comfortability, his hands running the length of his thighs, “Ionno, Unc. Makes me feel good, I guess.”
And in that moment, Aaron’s vision blurs for a second. He can’t tell if it’s Miles sitting in the passenger seat, or if it’s his late brother. Perhaps it's the glare of the sun in his eyes…perhaps it’s Aaron actually seeing the soul of Jefferson shine through his son in the early morning sunlight that dances across his melanated skin.
A hum passes through the older’s throat as he starts the car up, the sound of the engine revving through the silence that settled within the car. Aaron clears his throat before speaking again, “I’ma tell you what I told your pops about your moms, kid.”
Miles turns his head from the window to face his uncle, who shifts the car from parked to drive, hand sitting at the top of the steering wheel. 
“If she make you feel good, the kinda good you know you can’t get anywhere else, and if she make you feel like a man; you keep her close.” Aaron hums. His lips tug upwards when the younger gives a subtle nod in return.
“I’m serious now, Miles. Don’t be like yo’ daddy.” Aaron reiterates as he pulls his foot off the brakes, turning the steering wheel and pressing down on the gas to drive out of the parking lot. “Dumbass almost lost ya moms cuz he ain’t wanna listen-”
“A’ight, a’ight, I got you,” the younger replies, “I’on think she goin’ anywhere no way, though.”
“Good.” Aaron affirms. “If she know of the kinda game you in, then she need to know how to work somethin’, too. Make sure she can hold you down properly.”
“I’on know about that, Unc,” Miles replies, “she too much of a good girl for that.”
“Shit, good girls work the best poles, boy. Don’t get the game twisted.”
“Unc, no one says ‘poles’ in reference to guns anymore.” The younger says through a chuckle as the two drive off down the street, the purples in the sky now fading into a pretty golden hue that casts over the city that never sleeps.
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giuliettagaltieri · 8 months
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A River of Honey
Pairing: Husband!Gojō x Wife!Reader
Synopsis: Navigating through life with your husband and son who both seemed to have developed an appetite for something only you can provide.
Warning: breastfeeding, mild lactation kink, innuendos
Word Count: 1142
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With the two of you being forced into a marriage you did not want, it was difficult to coexist with each other, let alone initiate anything between you.  Your two-year marriage did end up with you having an 8-month old son as Gojō is only a man, ever so vulnerable to the natural charm of a woman.  But aside from sharing a child, you have nothing else that binds you to each other.
But lately, his crystalline blue eyes have been wandering to your ample bosom much too often.
Being in the Gojō estate house, you had to follow a few rules.
One is that you are never allowed to speak ill of your husband and your family.
You must not meet any man unaccompanied.
Entering the council hall is strictly forbidden.
Your hair must be in a specific bun, adorned with ornaments to symbolize status.
And lastly, you must follow the traditional dress code.
Most of the time, you wore kimonos, all having the colors of the Gojō banners.  It was their way of branding you as theirs.  And your husband did not like that.  But you, well it always reminded you of his eyes so you cannot bring yourself to complain.
During the course of your pregnancy, your husband protested about making you wear heavy fabric when it was too hot.  They did not relent.
So, your husband took it upon himself to rid your closet with the intricate kimonos and obi.  He threw them all in the cold of the night through your window, and shot a blast of cursed energy on the pile just for good measure.
From then on, your kimonos were lighter.  You did not have to wear multiple layers.  And even after you gave birth, the clan decided not to test their luck and just let you wear whatever is comfortable for you.  After all, you gifted the family a promising heir.  One that looked exactly like the master of the house, an exact replica of his father.
Gojō leaned on a tree in your garden one day, his legs stretched out in front of him.  He was watching you as you sat by the pond with your little boy on your lap, pointing at the koi fish that swam by.
“No.”  He hears you chuckle.  “We don’t eat them.”
As Gojō expected, a tiny frown forms on your son’s face the moment you said ‘no’, his lips wobbling and he turns to his father as if silently asking for rescue.
You sigh as you stand up.  “Wanna come to dada?”  Upon hearing this, your son hesitates and his tiny fists tighten on your sleeves.  But before he can protest, you drop his bum on Gojō’s lap.
“Hey there, bud.”  Gojō grins but the little boy doesn’t respond to him as his eyes remain trained on you as you sit next to your husband and pick up the book you brought with you earlier.
A poke to your son’s cheek finally made him look at his father, with a slightly irritated look in addition to his in-distressed expression.
“Mama’s not upset.”  Gojō says as he smoothens the hair of the child.  “She’s only teasing.”
Your son thinks for a moment and slumps on his father’s chest, his cheeks squished as he looks at your face.  Waiting for you to confirm it.  But you pretend not to hear as you turn the page on your book.  You’re not going to tolerate this attitude, you don’t need two spoiled Gojōs.
“Lighten up, Satoshi.  We’ll get you a non-koi fish to eat later.”  Gojō tried again, his grin widening every moment.
But Satoshi scowls at his father and shook his head. 
“Oh?  You don’t want to eat fish anymore?”
His son shook his head once more.
“What do you want to eat then?”  Gojō scratched his head.  “Want some taiyaki?”
Satoshi glares at his father.  “No!” 
Gojō’s eyebrows rise slowly.  “Come again?”
A red hue appears on Satoshi’s nose and judging by the large gulp of air he took, a wail is most certainly coming.
“MAMA!”  He bawls, his hands outstretched to you as large tears spill to his cheeks. 
Gojō grimaces, quickly handing you your son.  “Alright go to mama.”
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh as you drop your book to the side to cradle your baby.  He buries his face to your chest, soaking your kimono.  You rub his back in a soothing manner.
“What a crybaby.”  Gojō laughs, making his son glare at him behind his tears.
“Don’t listen to dada.”  You smile while smooching Satoshi’s chubby cheek.  “Stop crying now, I’ll ask them to make you something good to eat, okay?”
Satoshi looks at you with apprehension. 
“What?”  You smile sweetly.
He looks away from you and his tiny baby hands play with your kimono making you laugh.
“You have to talk, Satoshi.”  You say even though you know what he’s doing.
“Milk mama.”  He mumbles while he fiddles with his fingers.
After looking around your garden and not seeing anyone, you shift your kimono to the side and unbutton your nursing bra showing your lush breast and still puffy nipple.  Satoshi latches instantly.  His eyes become droopy almost immediately, breastfeeding is becoming a swift sleep inducer to him.
You turn to your unusually quiet husband and see just in time how he stared at your bosom with his pupils dilating as he swallowed audibly.  Warmth ran through your body and you looked away quickly, pretending that you saw none of it.
“That’s really convenient huh.”  He spoke, his voice a few timbres deeper.  “You just unbutton and your teat is out.”
“Mhm.”  You hum as you play with a lint on your lap.
Gojō wets his lips and he tries to look away but his eyes often wander to you every now and then.  You see his leg bouncing slightly in a steady motion.  And his hand raked his hair way too much that it started sticking out to multiple angles.
“I should put Satoshi back in his room.”  You say softly after you unlatched your son and tidied your clothes.
Gojō is quick to stand and offer his hand to you.  “I’ll come too.”
You thanked him and walked side by side with him.  He doesn’t tolerate you walking behind him.  
You smiled at him gratefully as he opened the door to Satoshi’s room and placed the pillows around your son’s crib.  Gojō pretends to look interested in a furby, as your neckline dips while putting your son down.  His heart softened when you smoothed his hair as you whispered, “I love you”.
He guided you out of the room and you are about to head back to your garden when his arm finds your waist and you are being led to your bedroom instead.
“My turn now, mama.”
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Where the Blue Roses Grow
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theghoulshat · 1 month
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Slip of the Tongue
Cooper Howard / The Ghoul x F!Reader pinned info — send me a request — masterlist MDNI 🔞 love confession, drug use / intoxication, self-doubt & self-deprecation, very slight angst & a bit of fluff, cursing, making out, slight dub-con, dry humping, groping & fingering (gloves on), aftercare & cuddling. word count: 3,555
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When he was freed from the coffin he had been holed up in, he came running straight to you. It had been a few years, but you knew he'd come back, eventually. He had been traveling a while. He needed to clear his head of California, and thanks to his ghoulified state: time was something he would never really run out of.
You, however, were not so lucky. You had time to lose. And yet, you seemed to have kept to yourself - never finding anyone who was worthy enough to fill in the hole he had left in your heart the day he turned away from you. He walked into the sunset, giving you a quick glance over his shoulder, before his boots clicked on. Every step made his dark figure slowly fade into the sun's blazing rays, and your heart ached as you watched him go - your mind and heart both torn as to whether he would ever return.
Either he would die doing what he loved, like his bounty hunting, or he would just choose to leave you behind. Forget about you, like he had done with most things since the bombs dropped...
You didn't know it, but Cooper didn't want to lose you. A part of him almost hoped he could get you to turn into a ghoul too. Make you the same as him, so the two of you could continue to be traveling partners forever and ever. You could both be immortals together. You deserved to have that extra time. It was a curse, for him, but it would be a blessing for you. He didn't feel like he deserved having the second chance at life, but he supposed he would have never met you if he hadn't: so he accepted it, just for that reasoning alone.
These were the kind of thoughts that he kept to himself, though. Neither of you had confessed your feelings for each other, despite the casual flirtations that would leave both of your lips. He quietly reasoned that you'd want to be with a more normal guy. Someone who wasn't as broken as him... He felt like you'd realise you'd want a family, which was something he could not give you, being sterile and all. You quietly reasoned that he probably still loved his wife too much to even think about committing himself to you...
Both of you couldn't be more wrong!
Any onlookers could see that the two of you were meant for each other. Hell, even a mutual friend of yours, Roger, had mentioned it in the hopes it would snap you both out of your limbo - help ease some of the sexual tension he could sense in the air. But all it did was make Cooper scoff and you had awkwardly laughed it off. Both of your reactions only solidifying the doubtful thoughts in both of your minds...
The time for you to finally let loose was when you both strolled up to the Super Duper Mart. Dealing with the two guys inside, including their organ-harvesting robot, was a breeze. The ghouls that were kept in cages made your heart ache though...
Cooper didn't really have anything to say - which wasn't unusual for him - but he made sure to hide you away when he pressed the button to open up the doors. You were a smoothie, after all. "Can't have 'em tearing at that pretty face, sweetheart."
He only set them free because you had begged him to. He could never bring himself to say 'no' to you - even if he did like to frustrate you sometimes, by playfully pushing back against your words. You had a passion that he'd been missing for quite some time. Empathy too. He loved that you still had it, despite the years he'd been gone. A part of him had wondered how much you'd change without him there. But it seemed like you'd remained the loving woman that the cowpoke had fallen head over boot heels for. The old man was grateful for that.
"Would ya look at that?" You piped up, a large grin on your face as you both found a stash of chems. There would be enough to keep Cooper from turning feral for quite a while, and there were others that you could use just for the sake of getting high. And after the tiring journey you had both just had: you were ready to go to cloud nine.
Sitting on the couch the men had been lounging on just moments before, you let out a long sigh as the chems slowly started to muddle your brain. Cooper wasn't as affected by the same amount, but it was enough to keep him from biting his tongue. With the back of his head against the back of the couch, her slowly rolled it to the side to gaze at you. Your eyes were barely open as you looked at the television screen, and you couldn't look more beautiful in his eyes.
He had to do it. He had to tell you. But how? Would you even remember with how out of it you seemed to be? Maybe if he said it now, it could be practice for the real thing? He pondered it quietly to himself.
"A cap for your thoughts?" You spoke up, turning your head to gaze back at him. "How much did you have? You don't usually stay this still for this long." You joked, your tongue flicking out to lick at your dry lips.
"Don't do that, sweetheart." His voice comes out lower than normal, the gravel that was always there seeming to intensify. If it wasn't for the chems, you'd notice the lustful way his eyes looked at you. His pupils blown to the point you could barely see the brown in his eyes, but you figured that was the chems doing: not the fact he was finding it increasingly hard not to just pounce on you and claim you.
"Don't do what?" Your voice drawls out, purposefully slow as you tilt your head to the side.
"You know what, missy." He smirked at you in that mischievous way that you'd seen time and time again. But this time, it felt different somehow. But you weren't sure if that was just the chems feeding into your delusions, or if it was actually how things were playing out.
"I think you're gonna have to tell me, Coop." There it was. His nickname. It sent a shiver down his spine and he clutched his fists at his sides. "I'm not exactly a mind reader." You began to chuckle at your own words, only to be cut off by him tugging at your arm - pulling you closer to his side.
You let out a soft gasp from the sudden movement, your eyes blinking slowly as you watched him look at you with a glint in his eyes that you'd never really noticed before. His gaze couldn't stay on yours for too long, though, as he kept looking down at your lips and then back up again. The short distance between your faces made your heart skip a beat. Was he about to kiss you?
"You know, sweetheart, you are a real pain in my ass. But... you're a beautiful pain in my ass." Real smooth, Cooper. Real smooth. He didn't have time to chastise himself because it was like his body was running on instinct - his rough, scarred lips pressing harshly against your own.
You hum softly at the feeling. You had thought about what it would be like to kiss him. Even though his irradiated skin was covered in burns and scars, he was still the most charming and handsome man you had ever met in the Wastes. His lips were better than you could ever imagine - and you wanted more.
You swing a leg over his lap, settling on top of him as you both made out with each other on the rugged couch. His lips and tongue ravaged your mouth, but his gloved hands are gentle as he takes a firm hold of your hip with one of them, and the other fondles with your breast underneath your bloodstained tank top. You had always looked good in it. But you would look even better with it on the floor.
Your back arches as you instinctively push your boob into the palm of his hand, your hips slowly grinding down on his hardening length. A low growl rumbles from him as he pulls back from you. "Careful, darlin', I won't be able to hold myself back if you keep doin' that." You were both high from the chems you had taken. It wouldn't be right for him to take advantage of that, if you weren't truly up for it.
"Who says I want you to?" You tease him with a smile. An irresistible smile that had made Cooper fall for you all those years ago. He had wasted so much time doubting his own value. He had to make up for it.
But not now. He wanted to make up for it properly, when you both were sober. Hell, he'd even be down to do so in the morning. For now, though, he had to think of a way to get you both off without taking any risks. He still wasn't 100% sure if you really wanted this with him. Consent was something the cowpoke respected greatly. It was a little dubious now that you were both high off of the pile of chems you'd found. You both wanted each other, of course, but Cooper just wanted to be sure. He wanted to take care of you. You were his girl - even if he had never openly claimed you as such.
"Well, if you keep grindin' away like that, cowgirl, I might give you what you want." He chuckled mischievously, his pupils still blown wide with lust for you and your beautiful, smooth body.
You were slow with his request, but you wanted to tease him. You wanted to take your sweet time with him, now that you had him. Even while inside his trousers, the head of his cock rubbed against your clit just the way you wanted it to. Your hands shoot out to grasp at his shoulders as you continue your movements, the action making him adopt a cocky grin as he watches you intentively.
You were sure your arousal was starting to pool enough that it was coming through the material of your panties and your jeans. Could he feel how wet you were? Did he find that gross? Your cheeks flush as your hips start to stutter. It had been so long since you'd last made love to anyone - so even just dry humping made you look like a cock drunk whore. But Cooper loved that. He felt blessed to see such an expression on your face.
"Let go for me, honey." His words are whispered, seductively so. You can't help but let go, crying out as your orgasm takes over you. Your lower body trembles, and it is a beautiful sight to behold. Cooper felt himself getting close too, so he had no choice but to take hold of your hips, guiding you back down on his clothed erection as he slowly thrust up against you.
The overstimulation has you gasping and whimpering. The sounds like music to his ears. Your fingernails dig into him as you try not to run from it. He deserved to have his release too. And if that meant he had to essentially use you as a pillow to rut against your drenched core: so be it.
"Fuck, darlin'... I don't deserve you." He grunts as he nears the last few pumps. "You're too beautiful for me. Too sexy. God, I wish you were mine - and only mine." He was rambling now, his thoughts muddled by the clarity he was about to receive just by dry humping you as you sat on his lap.
"I am yours, Coop. I am all yours - always have been." You manage to moan out, leaning forward to claim his lips with your own. You had initiated it this time, and that - coupled with the confession you had just made - was enough to make The Ghoul reach his end. He groans lowly, from the back of his throat, as his hips jitter against you, the tip of his cock marking his trousers with his release. The wet patch obvious, despite how dark his clothes were.
You both are breathless as you come down from your high. Your eyes locked onto each other like you'd both had some kind of epiphany. It sure felt like the best experience you had had, and Cooper felt the same. Sure, he was a lady killer and a huge charmer, but he'd been married for many years and then on his own for even longer than that. It had been a long time since he'd last even thought about getting laid, let alone actually doing it.
Sure, all he'd done was cum in his own pants from rutting against you, but he was hesitant to do much more - at least for the night - just in case the chems were affecting your decisions as much as he worried they were. What he didn't know, however, was that your tolerance for chems had improved greatly since he'd been gone. You were practically sober now that you'd had your release.
And now your sober mind was craving another.
A whine escapes you as your hips move again, his softening cock overstimulated by the movement. A hiss passes his lips as he stills you with a firm hold of your hips. "Jesus, darlin', I'm gonna need a minute-"
"I'm so close again, Coop. Please!" Your begging voice would have fuelled him for another round, but his refractory period wasn't like it used to be. He wants to give you what you want, but he wasn't sure about penetrating you - especially not without a condom for him to wear. He didn't want to give you radiation sickness from fucking you - that would just ruin the whole experience. Sure, he could fulfil his wish to turn you into a Ghoul, but that was up to you at the end of the day - not him. He'd respect whatever decision you made in that regard.
But right now, what you wanted was a second orgasm, and The Ghoul was ready to give you that. "Alright, darlin', let me give you what you so desperately need." His hand slowly cups at your drenched core. If he didn't have his glove on, he would be able to feel your arousal. But he could see it, at least, from the patch between your legs. His free hand cups the back of your head as he slowly turns you both, laying you back on the couch as he hovered over you.
You bite your bottom lip at his gentle strokes against your clothed core. "P-please... take off my pants." You sigh. "I want to feel you properly this time." You don't know how, but Cooper's eyes darken even more at your words.
"Okay, sweetheart, keep 'em spread for me." His hands are quick to rid you of your pants, your white panties practically transparent as he gazed down at you. God, you were so beautiful. He licks at his lips, and for a moment, you braced yourself for his rough lips to latch onto you. But he didn't. He just revelled in the way your juices were slowly running along your spread thighs.
"Coop-" You're cut off by him moving to take off his glove. You are not sure what comes over you, but you grab at his wrist. For a small moment, Cooper's eyes go wide: afraid he'd upset you, or that you'd sobered up enough to realise what you two were doing, and that you didn't want to keep going.
"Do you need me to stop, sweetheart?" His voice is quiet, his eyes flickering between yours to try and read your face. Had he fucked up? Are you about to revoke your consent?
You slowly shake your head. "No... no... I just - I want you to keep them on." The gloves. You wanted him to keep his gloves on? For the first time, he looks almost bewildered, his head tilting as he wonders why you'd want him to keep them on. You chuckle at his thoughtful look: "The leather - the friction will be enough to get me off."
His mouth opens as if to say 'oh', like he knew all along. A wide grin spreads across his scarred lips as he hooks his gloved finger under your panties, slowly pulling them aside so he could see you properly. A low growl escapes him. He can't help but feel like he's about to go feral just from looking at your pussy.
Was that even a possibility? Cooper wouldn't mind finding that out. Especially if it meant he could claim you for himself, and pass away in the bliss of it.
He wonders how well you'd take it, if he actually inserted his gloved finger inside of you? The whimpers and mewls that come out of your open mouth are a good indication that the leather was indeed pleasurable for you. He finds enjoyment in seeing you in such a flustered state. He could tell your orgasm was approaching, so he wanted to up the game. Instead of just running his fingers along your slit, he was going to insert one digit inside of you.
The gasp you let out is heavenly. The way your back arches makes you look like fine art. Cooper chuckles to himself as he lays kisses along the inside of your thigh. "Such a good girl for me." Your eyes lock onto his at those words, and he knows he's got you wrapped around his finger. Both literally and figuratively.
He slowly pumps his finger in and out of you, the leather rubbing against your gummy walls in such a pleasurable way - you couldn't even put it into words how much you loved it. He keeps an eye on your expression, taking in every bit of detail he could. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to remember you. If he could replace the memories of the bombs dropping with your aroused face, he absolutely would.
He wanted nothing more than to rid himself of those awful moments, so he could enjoy these ones with you. You both knew there were more moments like this to come - and you both wanted that desperately. You wanted each other. Why had it taken so long for either of you to confess? Neither of you were really sure. You both doubted yourselves, so maybe that was it? You could never doubt each other, though, that was for sure...
"Oh, fuck- Coop! I'm coming!" You cry out, your nails digging into the couch, tearing into the material of the cover as you clamp your thighs together as tight as you possibly could. "That's it, sweetheart... that's it." He coaxes you through it with his honey-like voice, and you tip over the edge.
Your breaths come out heavy as your eyes flutter shut. You head felt light as you laid there, your juices pooling beneath you and dampening the couch. Cooper removes his finger and looks at the wetness on the digits of his glove. His tongue flicks out to taste you, a hum of approval coming from him at the sweet taste. He hadn't tasted anything that good in well over 200 years!
"Fuck, sweetheart. That pussy must taste like heaven on Earth." He chuckles out, his eyes twinkling as he debates on seeing if that was true or not. But he didn't want to overdo it. You looked spent, and he was happy to keep you safe in his arms for the meantime.
Grabbing a dry rag from your backpack, he is gentle as he wipes you clean. You make a tired peep at his touch, your pussy beyond overstimulated. He doesn't apologise but he does flick his gaze up at you. He wanted to take care of you. You were his girl now.
He even makes an attempt to wipe himself from inside his pants, before tossing the rag away. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, all that was on his mind was you. He hadn't bothered to put your pants back on, but he was at least courteous enough to slide your panties back into place. He figured with his body heat wrapped around you, the two of you would be warm and cosy enough together on the couch.
"Mm, I love you, Cooper Howard." You mumble into his neck, nuzzling against him and his body heat, as your bare legs wrap around his.
"I love you too, sugar." The kiss on your forehead is as gentle as it is sleepy. With half-lidded, deep-set eyes, The Ghoul watches as sleep takes over you. You looked peaceful. For a moment, Cooper actually forgot about the kind of world the two of you were living in. And for the first time in forever, he went to sleep with a smile on his face. Nightmares unable to penetrate the domestic dreams of you and him together.
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sykostyles · 4 months
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let you love me 1.0
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wc: 3.3k summary: in which y/n is a 26 year old bakery owner and she can't quite get this whole "love" thing right; settling on finding solace in being alone. One day, Jackson Cole: an egotistical, but oh so charismatic professional quarterback comes along and swears he can change her mind.. and for a while he does. nearly two years of breaking down her walls.. but they seem to argue about one thing a lot. y/n's "negativity". she swears she's not trying ro be a pessimist.. it just works out better for her if she keeps her expectations low. But what happens when she meets a handsome stranger, who wants nothing more than to see her smile? Will she push everything away again or will she finally accept the love she deserves? or ; tldr sunshine!harry x grumpy! afab reader part two, three, extra
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a/n: firstly, I need to thank @freedomfireflies for being so kind, and accepting, and encouraging.. and so many other wonderful adjectives.. but seriously, thank you for giving me the courage to just take the plunge and write the damn thing. anddd for being my beta reader!! getting mother fireflies' stamp of approval has to mean its worthy for everyone else to see.. right? welcome to my first story! please do tell if you enjoyed! (there will be more to this, I'm working on it now <3)
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cw: this story contains suggestive and explicit language, minor descriptions of violence, and verbal abuse. please do not continue if these topics upset you!
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You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. You weren’t sure why you thought this time would be any different. Because he was somebody? Because he had a title? Or was it because he showed a genuine interest in you? Was it because he made the effort unlike most of your previous partners? You weren’t sure. The only thing you were sure of? This time, it hurt. A lot.
You curse yourself as you walk hastily back to get back to your car at the far end of the parking lot. Jackson had a lot of nerve asking you to bring him his practice bag all the way from your apartment, to then basically dump you in the stadium corridor. As you’re rounding the final corner to finally escape the thickening air in the stadium, you’re completely lost in your thoughts, thinking back to the conversation you had just left behind..
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“Hey, baby, thanks for bringing that. Coach was about to have my ass again.” Jackson breathes out as he sees you round the corner near the locker rooms. He takes the bag from your grasp, and places his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you into his front. Your hands instinctively reach for the nape of his neck; nimble fingers tangle in his wet hair at the base.
“Oh, but of course! Who would I be to not close up my shop early, again. Run all the way home to get your bag, again. Run all the way here just to step in and save the day for my big, strong man? Again.” You giggle, leaning up for a kiss. 
That’s how it’s always been. Y/N is as sarcastic and as teasing as they come. She explains it as “playful bullying” and swears she doesn’t mean anything by it. She has genuine feelings in there somewhere, but she thinks nobody but her needs to know that. She just chooses to portray her affection in rather questionable ways.. In speaking terms, if she’s not being “mean” to you, she doesn’t like you. But she’s tried so hard to get better at it. She swears.
“Do you really have to do that now?” Jackson asks, tilting his head out of the way, dodging your kiss. You look up at him with shocked eyes.
“Do what? Save your ass? As you so graciously put it.” You say, rolling your eyes, attempting to kiss your boyfriend for a second time.
“No, Y/N, that.” He says, trying to pull from your grasp, rejecting you yet again.
“Jackson, I’m not following. Use your words.” you say, turning his head to force him to keep eye contact.
He wasn’t running from this when you spent forty minutes of your evening bringing him his bag for the umpteenth time in your relationship. Not to mention the possible business you're missing out on by closing early. Again.
“Oh my god, you’re still doing it! You’re talking to me like I’m stupid.” he says, stepping back again, attempting to free himself from your hold.
You stand there, stunned. 
“He really is like all the others..” flashes in your mind.
“In what world is me teasing you about bringing you your practice bag, again, insinuating that you’re stupid?” You ask, reaching up to cup his face. “Forgetful? Maybe.” Your thumb making its way across the apple of his cheek
“See, you can't even make one single statement without attacking my character, even when you’re trying to explain yourself.”
“I’m not trying to explain myself, Jackson, I’m trying to understand what you’re talking about. And I’m not attacking your character, Jacky, I’m just teasing you. You know that.”
“You’re always like this. I can’t deal with this right now.” He says, grabbing your wrist, pulling your touch from his face.
“Can’t deal with what? Jackson, I haven’t done anything. Are you having a bad day or something? You were fine this morn– ” You start to say, tugging your wrist from his grasp.
“Just– Go home. I can’t deal with you right now, okay? I have a practice to get to.” He says, turning to walk into the locker room, but is stopped dead in his tracks..
“Jackson Wyatt Cole, you are not just going to walk away from this right now! You can’t just spout this nonsense and then turn into a child when asked to explain yourself. Now, either explain yourself or find someone else to bring you your bag the next time you forget it.” You seethe. 
His head ticks to the side before he slowly turns to face you. Seeing the face you’d grown to love over the last nearly two years shouldn’t scare you, but in this moment you did not recognize him.
“You have got to be the definition of ungrateful.” Oh, he wants to do this now?
“For the greater part of two years I have given you everything and you still think you can talk to me like that?” Jackson starts to raise his voice, noticing the growing audience in the locker room hallway, and the curious gazes from all directions. Please don’t do this now..
“You’re always so mean to me. You know that?” I swear I don’t mean to be.. 
“You make me question every choice I make.” I’m just an overthinker, I don’t mean anything by it..
“Even the other girlfriends and wives ask how I deal with your attitude." Okay, ouch. 
“You don’t think before you speak, it makes you look so rude.” That one’s true.. I’m trying, I promise..  
“You’re so unbelievably condescending when someone tries to make friends with you.” I’m sorry.. I swear I don't mean anything by it.. 
“You think you’re right in every instance, including now. You could have just given me my bag, gotten a kiss and been on your way. But no, you’re here, holding me up, by being a right bitch. So, maybe I should find someone else, because all I can see right now is someone I’m not sure I want to waste my time and effort on anymore.” Okay.. wow. Um. Alright.. Lay it all out in front of your teammates, why don’t you?
You just let him sit there and berate you. Like a child.
That was it. He’d broken through that exterior. That rock solid exterior that you’d spend years building up. It all came tumbling down with just a few words from someone you thought you loved; someone you thought finally loved you. This is what it always came down to when you argued; your inability to see how great things were around you, always settling on the negative sides of things. Always responding with snarky comments, never meeting anyone elses enthusiasm, etc. Normally, you’d be able to hold your own and fight back, but he was using your insecurities and anxieties against you, with an audience nonetheless! How did harmless teasing turn into this?
“I’m.. s-sorry, Jacky.” You finally choked out, tears threatening to spill over. You wanted to stand here and keep arguing. “I’m not any of those things!” You want to yell. But deep down, you know that you are. Not by your own choice though. Through years of failed relationships and tainted family ties, you had become this person. You became this angry, pessimistic, shell of a girl who really only wanted to love, and to be loved, but you had no idea how to really do either of those things. 
You never intended to turn out this way; it just happened. 
And it just makes it easier in situations like this.. 
Right?
“Go home, Y/N. We’ll talk later.’ Jackson sighs, leaving you in the corridor.
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Rounding that corner in the parking lot, you don’t even spare a glance and end up walking right into the broad chest of a man. Hands reach up and grasp your shoulders, keeping you from toppling over. Your hands shoot up, grabbing the lapels of his jacket.
“Woah there, love. I gotcha.” you hear. 
Looking up, you’re met with the loveliest emerald eyes you’d ever seen. A smile, that should be illegal to be that bright.. And the jawline? Don’t even get me started! But, with your current state, you couldn’t have cared less in that moment what he looked like. 
You slowly straightened up, dropping your grasp on his jacket.
“Sorry.” you stated, your eyes looking anywhere but his face. “You can let go now.” 
“My apologies, Love.” The man says, letting his hold on your shoulders go. He studies you for a moment, glancing over the features of your face. Taking in your flushed cheeks, teary and swollen eyes, and your all but quivering bottom lip.
You roll your eyes at his use of the moniker again. 
“Don’t call me that.” You mutter, glancing around, noticing the band of guys trailing behind this stranger.
He chuckles, “Well, what should I call you? M’ Harry, by the way.” He asks, reaching inside his jacket, he grabs a tissue and holds it out towards you. 
“Does it matter?” You bite out, ignoring his gesture. “I’m kind of in a hurry, here. So if you don’t mind.” You say, starting to walk around him. “This is exactly what Jackson was talking about.” you think to yourself. 
But you deter none, and continue your journey to your car. Once inside, the tears just flow. 
Jackson was supposed to be different. He’s the one who sought you out after all. 
He met you when he was picking up a cake his dad ordered for his mothers birthday.
He was smitten ever since. 
Made all the efforts to make you feel special. Stopped in your bakery every single day to bring you coffee from your favorite shop down the street. Flowers were delivered constantly; especially since you mentioned that yellow tulips were your favorite.
“I don’t really date anymore.” You admitted when he’d asked you to let him take you out for the thousandth time. 
“Too many bad experiences?” He questions.
“Yeah, you could say that.” You frowned, thinking back on a few of them.
Eventually, he slowly started to break down your walls and swore he’d change your mind. Even went so far as to listen to your worries and promised to face them with you.. 
But here he was, using them against you; just like everyone else did. 
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What you didn’t know, the moment you were out of sight, the man that you had left standing there turned to his assistant on his right, 
“Ryan, was that the woman arguing with Cole?”
“Indeed, sir. Would you like her banned from stadium grounds for speaking to you like that?” Ryan asks, pulling his phone from his jacket.
“On the contrary, Ryan.” I intend to put a smile back on her face. “Please, get me her information.”
“Right away, Mr. Styles.”
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Getting back to your apartment was a task in and of itself, considering it's hard to see when you’re bawling your eyes out. Walking in, you’re immediately met with the dread of Jackson eventually coming home. 
You shed yourself of your jacket, and set your keys down on the counter. Glancing around the kitchen, you stop your gaze on the vase of flowers that was delivered to you just two mornings ago. Approaching the counter, you pick up the card stuck to the front of the vase.
“Saw these and thought of you. Hope they brighten your day a little. Have a great day, my love. -Jackson”
What had happened in the last two days?
What had happened since this morning? 
You sat there immediately picking apart every interaction you’ve had with him over the time span.. You thought everything was fine. He usually loved your playful banter. He never complained before about your snide tongue when it came to him. He claimed it was one of his favorite things about you.. 
What changed since this morning?
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“Okay, tough guy, I get it, you’re the boss.” You chuckle, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Although you don’t make it very far before you’re tugged right back down, being caged in by the man above you, sending you into a fit of giggles
“Oh, princess, I don't think you do.” Jackson says, sliding his hand up your side before settling on the side of your neck.
“Princess? Wouldn’t that mean you’d have to be a prince?”
“Does that bother you?” He questions.
“Well, considering you’re more of a frog than a prince, I don’t think it’s very accurate”
“What did you just call me?” He asks, wrapping his fingers lightly around the front of your throat. A sly smile forms on his face at the feeling of your breath hitching beneath his fingertips.
“A frog. Do you want me to spell it for you, baby?” You quip, smirking as you feel him increase the pressure on the sides of your throat.
“You’re going to forget how to spell your own name by the time I'm done with you, brat.”
“Mm, is that a threat or a promise, tough guy?” You challenge, reaching up to tangle your hands in his hair.
“I’ll let you decide, princess.” He says, claiming your lips in a searing kiss.
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Normally he could go back and forth with you without a thought. Did he not find it playful anymore? Was he repulsed by you now? Did he really want to find someone else? 
He was fine this morning! 
You were driving yourself crazy. You weren’t sure you wanted to fight anymore. Not just fight with him, but fight for him. You sat back and thought more about what exactly he’d said to you. “Even the other wives and girlfriends ask how I deal with your attitude.”
So were you the topic of conversation a lot? Was your inability to act like the other (mostly) fake girlfriends and wives a problem? 
Were you really that big of a problem? 
You knew you could be a handful, but you never thought it would be like this.
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Luckily for you, your bakery still has an apartment unit upstairs. Your old bed was currently calling your name, so, you made a drastic decision at that moment and you were going to stick to it. 
You were going to remove yourself from the situation before it could get turned into anything else. It was time to run. Not that you were going to run far, just away from whatever this was turning into, no matter how much it hurt in this moment  
Eventually, you stood and walked to your shared bedroom. You grabbed your carry-on suitcase, which was always packed for the times you were given no notice about accompanying Jackson to an away game, and you retreated back into the living room.
You grabbed a notebook and a pen from Jackson’s office, and had a seat at the kitchen island. Just as you were about to start writing what you were thinking, the front door swung open and in walked Jackson. 
“H-hey.” you squeaked out, dropping your pen on the counter.
“Mm, hey.” he responds, dropping his bag on the counter next to you. He walks towards the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and walking back to be across from you at the island. 
“What’s that?” he asks, nodding his chin towards the open notebook in front of you, seeing “Jackson,” written at the top. “You writing me an apology letter?”
You scoffed, “I’m sorry?”
“Well that’s a start. Keep going.” He grins.
“I’m not, that’s no-“ you start, but his anger bubbles over and he’s already interrupting you, waving his hand in the air to silence you.
“You’re going to sit there and tell me that you’re not going to apologize to me? For causing a scene in front of my teammates? In front of Coach? The owner? The other girlfriends?” 
“Is that what this is about? What other people think of me? You’re always bringing up what the other girlfriends think.” Tears begin welling in the corners of your eyes, once again.
It is true that you’re nothing like the other girlfriends and wives of the players. Most of them are that cookie cutter, instagram influencer type. Meanwhile, your instagram is full of cakes, and cookies, and other endless pastries. The ones you spend 70% of your life perfecting to sell in your bakery. So what you tend you keep to yourself? It’s better than hanging around the Brittany’s and the Madison’s (no hate, ya'lls names just got a bad rep) all the time and hearing gossip about people you don’t know, or care about. You keep it curtly polite in public and mind your business in private. What’s so wrong with that?
“Some of them think you’re rude.”
“Some of them need to get a sense of humor.” You mumble, fidgeting in your seat.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You have no idea how irritating you are. It’s like you constantly have to have the last word.” He all but yells, pointer finger in your face. “And don’t get me started on the constant need for reassurance. You have no idea how exhausting that is. You’re just so.. negat-“
“That’s enough. You’re actually insane.” You interrupted, standing to leave. 
He was just trying to dig the knife in at this point. The thoughts of the argument in the stadium corridor long gone.
Jackson notices your carry-on settled by your feet. “What’re you doing with that?” he asks, standing from his seat.
“Isn’t it obvious?” you say, grabbing the handle “You said yourself you thought finding someone else was a good idea, so i’m doing the hard part for you. Now you can go get one of those other professional girlfriends that you seem to want so bad.” 
With every word you said, he slowly got closer to you, each word irritating him further. Once he reaches you, his hands grip your shoulders, spinning you to face him.
“I don’t know where you seem to get off,” he starts, grasping your chin in a firm hold, “but this attitude of yours stops today. Do I make myself clear? I’ve given you everything. The least you could do is act a little grateful.” He states, dropping his hold on your chin. He maneuvers himself around you, grabbing the handle of your carry-on, but you don’t let go.
“I’m through being talked to this way.” You say, yanking your carry-on towards you. “You knew how I was from the beginning. If you didn’t like the way I was, you shouldn’t have pursued me.”
“You don’t have anywhere to go. You’re too.. rough to be loved by anyone else. I’m the best thing you’ve got.” He says pulling the suitcase back towards him. “I’ll just have to shape you into the person you should be.”
You’re just having a full on tug of war game at this point. “Do you even hear yourself? The person I should be? What is that supposed to mean?”
“More.. obedient. You constantly embarrass me with your attitude in front of people. Important people, might I add.”
“Jackson, you really are insane. You think that just because you’re some big shot quarterback that you have any right to treat me this way?”
“Treat you what way? The same way you treat me?” He sneers, moving closer to tower over you.
“If you think me teasing you about forgetting your fucking practice bag all the time is the same as using my genuine fears and anxieties against me then you really are insane. Keep the suitcase then.” You say, letting go as he’s pulling it again.
You’d find a way to replace everything you’d be leaving behind.
“If you walk out that door, you’re done; we’re done.” Jackson says as he’s hot on your trail.
“Is that a promise?” You ask before slamming the door behind you.
You were startled by the sound of shattering glass. Knowing Jackson, he’d just sent the vase of flowers that adorned the counter straight into the door as you slammed it shut.
Assuming this, only solidified your decision further. 
You were done. 
With relationships. 
For good.
Right?
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a/n 2.0: thank you for reading this far! I honestly can't believe all of these words came from the thing inside my skull! I swear that thing is broken more often than not.. but seriously! thank you for reading! please go give my dear @freedomfireflies some love from me as well <3
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months
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tw - fem!reader, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, prolonged imprisonment.
“Mistress prisoner?”
There was a knock, the sound of hoofed feet shuffling against a tile floor. You shrunk into yourself, suddenly thankful you’d chosen to take such a claustrophobic linen closet to seek refuge in, that Neuvillette’s awful gowns provided so much fabric for you to bury yourself in.
“Mistress prisoner? Are you alright?”
Another knock, a round of hushed whispering. Clearly, he’d sent more than one, this time.
“Should we get a healer for you, mistress?”
You swore under your breath, burying your face in your knees. Curse your bleeding heart.
Slowly, taking pains to wipe the lingering tears from your cheeks without wrinkling the fine silk of your sleeve, you pushed yourself to your feet. He was a bastard of a man, an underhanded thief masquerading as the living embodiment of justice, but tragically, Neuvillette had caught on to the only weakness you had in this palace of unearned punishments and hollow promises. You would be able to bear it if he thought of you as a petulant child, too stubborn to accept his protection or his love, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be quite so heartless when it came to the melusines.
You pulled the door open, resting your shoulder against the frame. He’d sent three, this time – all wearing modified garde uniforms and none standing taller than your waist. They were clustered close together, but as you emerged, the centermost girl stepped forward, this one totting pastel pink skin and curling horns and cheeks you’d give anything to squeeze. “We spoke with Monsieur Neuvillette,” she started, clearly shy despite having appointed herself as the leader of their little group. When she paused, her gaze fell away from yours, dropping to her feet. “He said you wouldn’t mind if we asked why you don’t want to attend the opera with us, tonight.”  
Oh, you were going to throttle that old man.
You forced yourself to smile. No part of you wanted to be seen in public with your captor, to hear onlookers praise his kindness, his willingness to care for even the most irredeemable of criminals while knowing he wouldn’t make it past the first aria before finding some reason to pull you into some unused dressing room and abuse his authority yet again. But, explaining the length of your hatred to the creatures he showed so much fondness toward would be like trying to tell a child that their favorite candy was the source of their aching cavities. You were better off saving your breath. “Neuvillette didn’t mention that you’d be coming with us.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise.” It was the blue one, this time – with flowers dotted across her arms and legs and a tone so meek, it was all you could do not to take her into your arms and promise her that you’d go to as many operas as she could stand to attend. “He said it’d help to raise your spirits.”
You let out a soft coo, crouching down to their height. “It was a very sweet idea,” you said, fighting not to melt at the sight of their little, doe-like noses and big, star-filled eyes. “And I very much appreciate that you three would care enough to try and cheer me up. It’s only…”
You paused, clicked your tongue. Predictably, the third member of their little trio (who had yet to uncross her arms or drop her adorably pointed glare) chimed in. “What is it? We don’t have all day, y’know.”
“Well, I might not be at my best, but Monsieur Neuvillette’s been awfully lonely lately too.” Lonely – that was one way to put it. It was hard to imagine he’d even be capable of feeling anything so fundamentally human. “I’m afraid, if I’m having so much fun with all of you, he might feel a little left out. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to do that to him, can’t you?”
There was a round of nodding heads, of words of affirmation. The leader piped up first, both hands balled into fists and wide eyes bright with a resilient spark. “We won’t let Monsieur Neuvillette get lonely!”
“We won’t leave his side!”
“We’ll stick to him like glue!”
With a breath of a laugh, you pulled the little trio into your arms and press a kiss into the tops of their heads. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, girls. I’ll see you at the opera house tonight, and remember–“
This time, you didn’t have to fake your smile.
“Don’t let Neuvillette go a moment without your delightful company.”
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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months
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Astarion x Big-Breasted!Tav
Inspired by @mglennonart art
Thanks @thechaoticdruid , @rachelle-on-the-run and and @not-so-lost-after-all for help!
Masterlist
Headcanons
So, you are a human woman.
Human women come in every form and size, and you are particularly cursed/blessed with huge breasts.
You know how human women find elven men attractive coz they are so beautiful and gentle?
Elven men love human women for their "tits" and "asses".
You know, half-elves are usually born to human mothers, after all.
Unfortunately, the same features, loved by elves, are often a reason for mockery from other humans.
Be it jealousy from other women or undercover lust from men.
You were bullied when you were young and grew up ashamed of your body trying to cover yourself from unasked attention.
Besides, people call women like you "asking for things".
As if backache and inability to sleep on your stomach aren't enough!
Or people assuming facts about you just because you look like that.
With Astarion…
It's different.
It's not "I don't care about tits".
If anything, he cares a lot about them.
But there is awe in how he looks at you.
There is adoration.
He likes pressing his face against your chest, burying his nose in your breasts.
He likes to occasionally put his hand under your shirt.
At first, you were embarrassed by this but later you got used to it.
He sews dresses for you - the ones with deep necklines.
When he first presented you one you refused to leave the house without him by your hand.
But you know he will protect you if someone can't keep their dirty thoughts to themselves.
A man who dared to grope you at the tavern is now missing three fingers.
An old pervert who called you a slut is now a one-eyed pervert.
Astarion also makes you a corset which makes fighting and travelling easier for you.
But it's also suspiciously easy to unlace.
Because if you stay in camp or in an inn, Astarion likes seeing you as you are.
With time, Astarion learns how to transform into a bat, and - and in a bat form he easily fits in your bra.
He can never get enough of it.
Me and @rachelle-on-the-run were carried away A LOT and we have some ideas for NSFW headcanons. Coz it's already very naughty. Would you like to read it?
--
Tag list
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formulawolff · 13 days
Text
iv. raising the stakes - t.w.
pairing: female driver! x toto wolff
word count: 2.0k
warnings: cursing, age gap, mentions of divorce, power imbalances, mentions of age gap relationships, sexual references, toto wanting to be with you every second of every day, YEARNING, pining, yadayadayada, the works y'know
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“don’t tell me it’s that fucking nitwit.”
the team principal nearly growls, fury oozing into every single word. 
“i haven’t talked to him in a while,” panic starts to flare up, “fuck, fuck, fuck. what do i do?”
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
“ignore him?” 
“i can’t do that,” you suck in a breath, “you need to go to my room. just sit on my bed or something until he leaves.”
“scared he’s going to catch on or something?” toto arches a brow, his tone shifting from scorn to a light-hearted tease, “oh schatz, are you worried your little boyfriend won’t like that you’re with another man?”
“no,” you scoff, “you know exactly what would happen if daniel saw both of us. go to my room. stay there until he leaves.”
“fine,” he rolls his eyes, clambering to his feet. he stretches slightly, wincing, “that was not my best idea.”
“that’s what happens when you’re an old man.”
the remark lights a new fire in toto, the austrian licking his lips, “oh don’t worry love, this old man will you show you soon he’s actually–”
“get. in. my. room.” you hiss, scrambling to your feet. 
“fine, fine,” he exhales, nodding towards the end of the hall, “i assume that’s it?”
“yes,” you affirm, “just stay there. answer some emails or something.”
“will do,” he whistles, turning on his heel. 
once the door to your room closes, you clear your throat. your voice was probably shaky from what just occurred. hell, even your brain felt like it was a pile of mush. 
there was not a single thought rattling around, your memory only replaying a constant loop of what just happened. 
oh fuck. you realize your shorts were completely soaked. and it was noticeable. although you weren’t going to be opening your legs, you were obviously flustered. 
time to act like nothing ever happened. 
quickly, you throw a blanket over you, “come in!”
daniel pokes his head in, a bright grin enveloping his face, “hey there, winner, winner!”
“how are you?” 
“i’m okay,” he shrugs, crossing over to the couch, “were you watching something? i thought i heard some voices.”
“oh yeah,” you nod fervently, “i was just watching some tik toks before you came in.”
“sorry it’s so late,” daniel fiddles with a loose thread on his shorts, “i figured i would come by after all the press and all that. you must be tired, yeah?”
“a little bit.
“it was a huge day for you,” he points out, “i’m happy for you. i really am. i couldn’t think of anyone who deserved that win more than you.”
you can’t help but feel a grin form, “thank you, danny.”
“also,” he lets out a shaky breath, “i feel like i owe you an explanation why i’ve been so distant this last week.”
“oh daniel you don’t have to–”
“but i do,” he interjects, his voice so quiet you had to lean forward to hear it, “i guess when you asked me that question after bahrain, i was confused. to tell you the truth, i was confused about how my feelings for you. i guess i never really addressed the feelings i had for you until you brought it up. yeah, i do have feelings for you. i am attracted to you. but i can’t act on them because i know that you would never pursue me in that matter. you’ve always seen me as one of your best friends, and that’s okay. i figured i would take a step back so i could heal without hurting you or lashing out. because it’s not your fault, it’s all been one-sided.”
“daniel i–”
“you don’t have to say anything,” he shakes his head, avoiding eye contact, “i had to heal on my own. i had to come to terms without bringing you into it. it would have been immature of me to make you feel like you had to reciprocate the attraction. besides, i feel like you’re attracted to someone else.”
your heart nearly stops beating for a moment, eyes widening, “oh – um, i–”
“you’ve always spoke so highly of carlos, and with the way you look at him, i have a gut feeling you like him.”
you can clearly picture toto in your room, leaning against the door, listening to every word. this meant you had to tread these waters carefully. 
very carefully. 
“oh daniel,” you begin, “at the moment, i’m not attracted to anyone on the grid. if anything, i see most of you guys like my brothers. it’s the best group of friends i could have ever asked for. if i were to have romantic relationships with any of you guys, i feel like it would diminish the bonds we have. also, i just don’t think it’s very professional. we have to keep things professional, you know?”
“i understand,” daniel’s eyes meet yours, and you can’t help but see nothing but anguish, “i appreciate you, i really do. can we just act like you never asked that question?”
“of course.”
“i love you,” daniel leans forward, scooping you in an embrace, “you’re the best. i’d stay and chat about your big win today, but i bet we’re both exhausted. i’ll text you, okay?”
“okay,” a giggle bubbles up as daniel shakes you back and forth, “i love you too, danny.”
“i’ll see ya around,” he places a swift peck on your temple before getting up, “sleep well. you deserve some rest.”
“you too,” you murmur, waving as the australian strolls out, “see you around.”
“byeeee!”
once the door shuts, you flop backwards, breathing out a sigh of relief. 
that seemed to go well. 
shooting up, you remember that there was a very large, very handsome austrian man waiting for you in your room. wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you spring up, nearly jogging down the hall. 
pushing open the door, your breath hitches in your throat. 
instead of being wide awake, toto is slumped on your bed, limbs sprawled out. light snores fill the air, his chest rising and falling. rays of moonlight cascade into the space, shrouding him with a soft glow. 
quietly, you make your way to the bed, discarding your shorts and underwear. after seeing the clothes on the floor, you realize you may as well ditch the top too. peeling it off, you toss it, burrowing under the comforter. 
toto stirs, blinking, “how long was i– oh my god.”
you can’t help but smirk as he’s left speechless, mouth agape, eyes nearly as wide as saucers, “not long. daniel only came over for about fifteen minutes.”
“and you didn’t wake me the moment you started taking off your clothes?”
“i didn’t know i was supposed to,” you tease, scooting towards the principal, “you don’t have to leave. you can stay.”
“i don’t know if i should,” light kisses pepper your nose, cheeks, and forehead, “they’re probably all wondering where i ran off to. i’ve been gone awhile and haven’t been answering my texts or calls. if i’m not careful, they might send out a search party.”
“lewis hamilton can’t be without his team principal for one second?” 
at your response, toto laughs, his chest vibrating against your shoulder blades, “you’d be surprised. at times i wonder if i adopted him as my own. george too.”
“please?” you roll over, facing him. for extra measure, you jut your bottom lip out, ensuring that your lashes flutter as you blink, “please stay?”
“hmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “what’s my incentive for staying?”
“you know, not everything is a business transaction.”
“i just wanted to hear you beg a little.”
the truth of the matter was that the team principal knew if he stayed, he would be in too deep. even further deeper than he already was. 
oh, toto wolff was already weak for you. 
but now? 
it was far worse than he could ever imagine. 
there was just something about you that he couldn’t shake. as you laid beside him, moonlight swathing your figure, he couldn’t resist admiring. fuck, you were just so gorgeous. 
however, that was not the only thing that drew him in. your aura alone was attractive enough. confident, radiant, oh so intelligent, and level-headed. also, you were unapologetically yourself. toto needed that. he needed someone to match his energy. 
the fact that you were one of the best drivers on the grid was just a bonus to the plethora of qualities that he adored. 
of course, there was that ever-present thought looming in his mind. 
if a single soul found out about this blossoming relationship, every aspect of his life would come crumbling down. 
his children would shun him. he would be let go from his esteemed position at mercedes. the fia would exploit his wrongs in every way imaginable. the media would have an absolute frenzy. his drivers would no longer speak to him. 
and susie? oh god. 
although there was still a band gleaming on his left finger, the marriage with susie had devolved three years ago. the papers weren’t signed until several months ago, the team principal keeping that matter private. merely for the sake of his ex-wife and children. wearing the band was simply a promise he made with susie for the time being, to keep the public thinking that they were still happily married. 
the divorce would be announced at the end of the 2024 season, just so that the media wouldn’t speculate. 
although, they already speculated more than he liked. 
yet, there was this part of him that urged him to take that risk. to pursue you. to get to know every part of you. to learn, cherish, and love you in every way possible. 
you were his golden girl, without a doubt. 
a shining ray of light that deserved the world. 
and by god, he was more than determined to give you that.
“toto,” your eyes were closed, lashes fluttering as a hand ran through your hair, “can you please stay?”
“if i stay,” the team principal shifted his body, propping himself up with an elbow, “i’m going to have to leave early. probably before sunrise so that i’m not spotted.”
“you could just disguise yourself.”
“right,” a light chuckle flows his lips, “i’ll find a mustache and stick it on. no one would ever dare recognize me then.”
“you think?” fuck, your giggle was going to be the death of him. 
“i know,” leaning over, he presses a kiss on your temple, “i’ll stay, schatz. just don’t be disappointed if you wake up and i’m not there. all right?”
“all right,” you nod, sleep slurring your words. 
quickly, toto unbuttons his shirt, discarding it to the floor. fuck, it was probably going to be wrinkly in the morning, but he didn’t care. as long as he got to spend a few more hours with you, it would make up for it. standing, he unbuckles his belt, slacks falling to the floor. 
pulling the comforter back, he curls up next to you, bringing you close to his chest. 
“you know, sixteen-year-old me would be screaming, crying, throwing up, right now.”
“is that right?” his chest rumbles as he laughs, “well, we’ll have create a time machine to let sixteen-year-old you that all of her dreams come true.”
“are you sure you don’t have a crush on me, mr. wolff?”
“like i said before schatz,” his arms squeeze you gently, “crushes are for children.”
“then what is it?”
“we’ll have to find out,” toto found his eyelids drooping as you snuggle closer, “goodnight, golden girl.”
in his heart, toto knew the answer all too well. 
if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to want a relationship. with such a bright future ahead for you, would you even want to settle down at mercedes with a man like him? a previously divorced man going through a potential midlife crisis? 
additionally, if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to fall in love. 
and if that was the case, the stakes would only be higher. 
not only would be acquiring one of the best drivers in formula one’s history, he would be acquiring the girl he loved. 
and god, was he determined to make that happen. 
by any means possible. 
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
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