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#It hasn't reached me yet but it's on its way.
theotherhappyplace · 2 years
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here’s the milkwalker alone. he’s awful.
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send help i'm thinking about lake mungo again
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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 110
Part 1 Part 109
Steve’s already out of bed when Jeff’s flailing limbs smack Eddie awake. He tugs on the connection, relieved when Steve immediately tugs back from somewhere in the trailer. He rolls over, smiling as he smashes his face into a grumbling Jeff’s chest. 
“Get off,” Jeff groans, shoving futilely at Eddie’s dead weight. “Or we’re going to be late”
Eddie whines, voice all raspy from the night’s cold air. “Don’t wanna.” Jeff smacks him again, and again, and again, until Eddie finally rolls off with a groan, tumbling ungainfully off the bed entirely. “Can’t we skip?”
Jeff’s already up and in yesterday’s jeans, hunched over the dresser looking for a shirt. “No,” he replies, sliding one on and bending down to grab a pair of socks. Eddie admires the view. “It’s hellfire day.”
That gets Eddie up, with some petulant grumbling to get dressed right alongside him.
Steve’s at the stove when they stumble out, with sleepy eyes, into the trailer proper. He’s still in his pajamas, but has clearly already showered and styled his hair into its usual coif. Eddie creeps up behind him to peer into the pan he’s currently working from, smiling when he catches sight of the pancake he’s currently flipping.
Steve doesn’t cook much, but he’s the best of all three of them when he bothers. Wayne’s got him beat for creativity, but Steve beat them both in his ability to somehow never fill the trailer with smoke. 
“Mornin’,” Eddie says. 
Steve lets out a little “mmhmm,” shoulders stiff as he stares into the pan with an unnecessary focus. 
Eddie stares at his back, brows furrowed. But Jeff’s already sitting at the table with Wayne, and if there’s one thing Steve doesn’t appreciate, it’s an audience when something’s wrong. So, he grabs the plates, syrup, and forks, and settles into his own place to wait.
It doesn’t take long until Steve’s setting a plate heaping with fluffy, brown pancakes onto the table. Jeff grabs two from the top, but Wayne and Eddie immediately grab one each from the bottom first, knowing that’s where Steve ferrets away the ones he deems imperfect so he can eat them himself. 
Steve doesn’t complain. That’s a solid strike two. Eddie bites his tongue against the worries that want to tumble out. 
Breakfast is quiet, aside from Jeff’s occasional pestering about that night’s session. Eddie locks his lips and throws away the key.
“Don’t act like you know how to shut your trap, boy,” Wayne says, scuffing the top of his head roughly. 
“Hey!” Eddie cries as Jeff laughs at him.
Steve only eats one pancake before he’s rushing into their bedroom to get changed. He’s never liked being late, and they’re thin on time. He’d rather not go at all then shuffle in partway through a period. It doesn’t stop Eddie from staring at the closed bedroom door worriedly until Wayne orders them off to brush their teeth.
Eddie loans Jeff one, and they brush their teeth side by side, too quick to do much of a good job, but Steve still beats them. He’s got both of their bags piled at the front door, his own already on his back. 
When they get to the van, Steve settles into the back, so Jeff slides into the passenger seat and buckles himself in. 
Eddie cranks the engine and peels out. They’re already on a time crunch, and he wants a minute alone with Steve before the bell rings. 
“How come you guys never take your car?” Jeff asks, craning his head back to look over at Steve. 
Eddie tries to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror, but he’s in a blindspot so he looks back at road, fingers clenching on the steering wheel. 
“More room in the van for hangers on.” The “like you” is implied heavily enough for Jeff to squawk indignantly. 
“To be fair, that’s usually Carol,” Eddie says.
“And Barbara.”
Eddie nods even though Steve probably can’t see him either. “And Barbie,” he confirms. “Plus, it makes a great getaway vehicle.” He turns to Jeff smiling maniacally. 
Jeff’s probably thinking of parties broken up by cops, or harmless pranks, but all Eddie can think about is cramming everyone in on Halloween while Barbara gunned it to the Harrington’s house to find Steve. 
What would have happened if Steve had driven?
When Eddie parks haphazardly in his usual spot in the school’s parking lot, Jeff hops out immediately. When no one follows him, he turns back to Eddie with raised eyebrows. Eddie waves his hands furiously, shooing him away like he’s a fly. Jeff rolls his eyes, but slams the door shut and walks away.
Steve’s silent in the back. Eddie doesn’t turn; he’s too worried what expression he’ll see on his face. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, staring out the windshield at the usual bustle of the morning. 
Steve sighs. He doesn’t answer, but he dutifully slides into the passenger seat and meets Eddie’s eyes.
He’s smiling, warm and crinkled and real enough that Eddie sags into his seat, relieved beyond measure. 
“I’m okay,” Steve replies, reaching his hand out and leaving it there until Eddie links their fingers together. “And nothing’s wrong.” Eddie scoffs, but Steve just keeps talking. “Really, nothing’s wrong. I’ve just got something to sort out, and I want to talk to Carol about it first.”
Eddie looks down at their linked hands, running his thumb along the back of Steve’s. There’s a burn there, still pink and shiny, but Steve shows no sign of pain, so Eddie caresses it as he thinks.
“But you’ll tell me?” he asks, looking back up to meet Steve’s eyes.
“I promise.”
As if to emphasize the point, Steve unclasps their hands only to hook his pinkie around Eddie’s. It’s the cutest shit Eddie’s ever seen. He wants to capture it in film, or sculpt it in clay, or paint it with the expensive acrylics he’s always secretly coveted but never bought. He wants to immortalize the way his Angel’s thumb looks around his own. 
Instead, he curls his around right back and shakes their hands up and down for good measure.
“It’s a deal.”
Nothing else seems to come from it. Eddie tugs on their connection like usual, and Steve always tugs right back. He comes to lunch, and the only sign that something’s shifted is a few furtive looks between Carol and Steve.
Maybe they’ve already talked?
Anticipation thrums through Eddie. He loves secrets and being in on them. But it’s okay, for Steve, he can wait as long as he needs. 
Steve’s worth the wait.
PSA: My taglist is NOT working even when i try to do the staggering my 5's thing, no matter what I do. SO. I'm no longer trying. For the last part, I'm going to try to tag everyone even if i have to do a bunch of reblogs, because I know that's the only way some people are following the fic. Just so everyone's aware that it's complete, and go back to read what they missed. But I'm not willing to do that for every part. Sorry! <3<3<3
Part 111
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thenineofus · 1 year
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Always weird to see my own post making the rounds and showing up on on my dash again
A bit like going for a walk on a dry lake and seeing you own ghost or whatever
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woodcries · 4 months
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permanent starter call. for aerith gainsborough / final fantasy. liking this means you're interested in interacting with this muse and are willing to receive starters and asks from them. knowledge of the source material is never necessary but always appreciated.
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returntotheground · 6 months
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gotta say, i'm having a real lake mungo moment tonight y'all
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woahjo · 3 months
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APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)
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masterlist 
Pairing: Bakugou x Reader
Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?
Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.
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Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 
Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 
He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 
Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 
He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 
He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 
"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 
He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 
"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 
You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 
Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 
The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 
"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 
Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 
He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 
"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 
Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 
"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 
Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 
"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 
"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 
"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 
You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 
"I'm not fucking around," he says. 
"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 
You trail off a little. 
"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 
"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 
"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.
Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 
"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 
Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 
He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 
"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 
You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 
Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 
Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 
Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 
He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 
The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 
His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 
Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.
His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 
He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 
The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 
You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 
Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 
You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 
“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 
The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 
There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 
“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 
Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.
“Say that again.” 
“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 
You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 
He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 
Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 
He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 
You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 
His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 
Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 
“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 
You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 
“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 
The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 
Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 
Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 
“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 
He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 
“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 
Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 
“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 
He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 
“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 
You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 
Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 
His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 
You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 
This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 
The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 
Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 
His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 
Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 
You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 
You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 
He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 
“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 
“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 
Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 
“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 
You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 
“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.
“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 
“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.
Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 
“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 
You shrug and give him a coy smile. 
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anantaru · 2 months
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me
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synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your ex boyfriend childe recently found out that you've been seeing another guy lately. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. jealous! childe, rough & needy, exes missing each other but not admitting it, hinted at a previous toxic relationship between you two, fem! reader ♡
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"did he touch you like this?" childe mumbles against your ear as his hand slowly slid over your curves, touching your body.
the impact this brazen question had on you made your body shudder in embarrassment, not only that but you could feel your own blood being forced to frenziedly race through your shape with every new drag of his cock dashing ripples of glee into you.
he knows what he's doing, he's planned this.
the harbinger knows everything apparently, or perhaps he's actually made up an entire different story to what he thought happened on your date.
he cups your cheek and runs his thumb across your bottom lip reverently, "or was he rougher?" slower?" he taunts, and there's an instant jolt of pride up the harbinger's spine when he notices how you're embarrassingly averting his satisfied gaze.
he hasn't lost his grip on you yet, he's sure of it, and he welcomed that you're so easy to read, to the point where you'd choke on a cry consistently, more so when he rushed through that one spot he would never forget to stimulate.
"w-why does it matter?" your words come out quicker than your mind could've properly processed them as you whimper out wetly to him.
you quirk up a brow, feeling a tender hold of confidence aid your frame, "aah— it's not like we're dating anymore or anything,"
that breathy, almost belittling laugh that tumbled over your parted mouth reached his heart, fracturing his vitality.
"we're broken up, ajax, please," you shuffle your arms around his neck before abruptly pulling him towards you, so your lips could brush against his ear shell as you whisper seductively;
"i can fuck whoever i want,"
tilting his head, instead of falling for it, childe confidently cocks a brow before planting a wet kiss on your cheek, "huh? archons, what a mouth you got on yourself," as he spreads, burns and dominates your glistening walls until he's certain you're where he needed you to be— vulnerable to him, perhaps even admitting the truth and stopping your bratty mouth to spill anymore wrongs.
"come on, will you? come on," he laughs manically, his hips jerking hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs as your breasts bounce in tandem with his ruthless thrust, "don't pretend like he'll ever catch up to me, fuck— baby..." he grinds deeper, watching how a nasty ring of white covers the majority of his base.
you roll your eyes but know he's right— because no one could ever unlock the love you've had for ajax before you two had broken up. those rough hands of his were your everything, in comparison to how he used them against his enemies, towards you, he wielded them lightly.
you squeeze and squeeze him, practically telling him that yes, you've missed him so much but no, you're not willing to ever get in a relationship with him again. for that, you've put in too much work already to forget about ajax, the man you loved so unconditionally.
"doesn't matter," your voice echos like a soft whimper as you hug him, desperately wanting to feel how all his inches were painfully throbbing while squeezed by your walls, "we. don't. work." concurrently to his sultry rolls, you pant out a crushing reality.
childe didn't want to hear that, not now, not ever again.
he pushes inside and groans out hot against your ear, before forcing himself to move his hips slower, despite the expanded lust inside of him wanting to slam right into you, fuck— the harbinger was aggravated, frustrated and saddened at the same time. not because of you, yet due to the fact that primarily, it was his fault that things ended on how they did.
a candid confession should never find its way inside of a situation this unrepeatable, "i love you," he whines, his cock plunging with passion as if to emphasize his spelled out words.
your mouth opens instantly for a rebuttal as he swiftly runs a hand down your breasts, pinching your nipples, desperate to swallow up your mewls and keep them stored within him.
foreheads pressed against each other, no words said out loud.
childe regrets everything right now, because you are just his everything, his all.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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mcmansionhell · 1 year
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this house may or may not be real
on grayness in real estate
Allegedly, somewhere in Wake Forest, North Carolina, a 4 bed, 5.5 bathroom house totaling more than 6,600 square feet is for sale at a price of 2.37 million dollars. The house, allegedly, was built in 2021. Allegedly, it looks like this:
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A McMansion is, in effect, the same house over and over again - it's merely dressed up in different costumes. In the 90s, the costume was Colonial; in the 2000s, it was vague forms of European (Tuscan, Mediterranean), and in the 2010s it was Tudor, dovetailed by "the farmhouse" -- a kind of Yeti Cooler simulacra of rural America peddled to the populace by Toll Brothers and HGTV.
Now, we're fully in the era of whatever this is. Whitewashed, quasi-modern, vaguely farmhouse-esque, definitely McMansion. We have reached, in a way, peak color and formal neutrality to the point where even the concept of style has no teeth. At a certain moment in its life cycle, styles in vernacular architecture reach their apex, after which they seem excessively oversaturated and ubiquitous. Soon, it's time to move on. After all, no one builds houses that look like this anymore:
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(This is almost a shame because at least this house is mildly interesting.)
If we return to the basic form of both houses, they are essentially the same: a central foyer, a disguised oversized garage, and an overly complex assemblage of masses, windows, and rooflines. No one can rightfully claim that we no longer live in the age of the McMansion. The McMansion has instead simply become more charmless and dull.
When HGTV and the Gaineses premiered Fixer Upper in 2013, it seemed almost harmless. Attractive couple flips houses. Classic show form. However, Fixer Upper has since (in)famously ballooned into its own media network, a product line I'm confronted with every time I go to Target, and a general 2010s cultural hallmark not unlike the 1976 American Bicentennial - both events after which every house and its furnishings were somehow created in its image. (The patriotism, aesthetic and cultural conservatism of both are not lost on me.)
But there's one catch: Fixer Upper is over, and after the Gaineses, HGTV hasn't quite figured out where to go stylistically. With all those advertisers, partners, and eyeballs, the pressure to keep one foot stuck in the rural tweeness that sold extremely well was great. At the same time, the network (and the rest of the vernacular design media) couldn't risk wearing out its welcome. The answer came in a mix of rehashed, overly neutral modernism -- with a few pops of color, yet this part often seems omitted from its imitators -- with the prevailing "farmhouse modern" of Magnolia™ stock. The unfortunate result: mega-ultra-greige.
Aside from war-mongering, rarely does the media manufacture consent like it does in terms of interior design. People often ask me: Why is everything so gray? How did we get here? The answer is because it is profitable. Why is it profitable? I'd like to hypothesize several reasons. The first is as I mentioned: today's total neutrality is an organic outgrowth of a previous but slightly different style, "farmhouse modern," that mixed the starkness of the vernacular farmhouse with the soft-pastel Pinterest-era rural signifiers that have for the last ten years become ubiquitous.
Second, neutrals have always been common and popular. It's the default choice if you don't have a vision for what you want to do in a space. In the 2000s, the neutrals du jour were "earth tones" - beige, sage green, brown. Before that, it was white walls with oak trim in the 80s and 90s. In the 70s, neutrals were textural: brick and wood paneling. We have remarkably short memories when it comes to stylistic evolution because in real time it feels incremental. Such is the case with neutrals.
Finally, the all-gray palette is the end logic of HGTV et al's gamified methodology of designing houses with commodification in mind: if you blow out this wall, use this color, this flooring, this cabinetry, the asking price of your house goes up. You never want to personalize too much because it's off-putting to potential buyers. After twenty years of such rhetoric, doesn't it make all the sense in the world that we've ended up with houses that are empty, soulless, and gray?
A common realtor adage is to stage the house so that potential buyers can picture their own lives in it. In other words, create a tabula rasa one can project a fantasy of consumption onto. Implied in that logic is that the buyer will then impose their will on the house. But when the staged-realtor-vision and general-mass-market aesthetic of the time merge into a single dull slurry, we get a form of ultra-neutral that seems unwelcoming if not inescapable.
To impose one's style on the perfect starkness is almost intimidating, as though one is fouling up something untouchable and superior. If neutrality makes a house sell, then personality - at all - can only be seen as a detriment. Where does such an anti-social practice lead us? Back to the house that may or may not exist.
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In my travels as McMansion Hell, I've increasingly been confronted with houses full of furniture that isn't real. This is known as virtual staging and it is to house staging as ChatGPT is to press release writing or DALL-E is to illustration. As this technology improves, fake sofa tables are becoming more and more difficult to discern from the real thing. I'm still not entirely sure which of the things in these photos are genuine or rendered. To walk through this house is to question reality.
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Staging ultimately pretends (sometimes successfully, sometimes not) that someone is living in this house, that you, too could live in it. Once discovered, virtual staging erases all pretensions: the house is inhabited by no one. It is generally acknowledged (though I'm not sure on the actual statistics) that a house with furniture - that is, with the pretense of living -- sells easier than a house with nothing in it, especially if that house (like this one) has almost no internal walls. Hence the goal is to make the virtual staging undiscoverable.
If you want to talk about the realtor's tabula rasa, this is its final form. Houses without people, without human involvement whatsoever.
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But what makes this particular house so uncanny is that all of these things I've mentioned before: real estate listing photography, completely dull interiors and bland colors all make it easy for the virtual furniture to work so well. This is because the softness of overlit white and gray walls enables the fuzzy edges of the renderings to look natural when mixed with an overstylized reality. Even if you notice something's off in the reflections, that's enough to cause one to wonder if anything in the house is real: the floors, the fixtures, the moulding, the windows and doors.
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This is where things are heading: artifice on top of artifice on top of artifice. It's cheap, it's easy. But something about it feels like a violation. When one endeavors to buy a house, one assumes what one is viewing is real. It's one thing if a realtor photoshops a goofy sunset, it's another to wonder if anything in a room can be touched with human hands. I won't know what, if any, part of this estate costing over 2 million dollars actually exists until I visit it myself. Perhaps that's the whole point - to entice potential buyers out to see for themselves. When they enter, they'll find the truth: a vast, empty space with nothing in it.
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The better this rendering technology gets, the more it will rely on these totally neutral spaces because everything matches and nothing is difficult. You are picking from a catalog of greige furniture to decorate greige rooms. If you look at virtual staging in a non-neutral house it looks immediately plastic and out of place, which is why many realtors opt to either still stage using furniture or leave the place empty.
Due to the aforementioned photography reasons, I would even argue that the greigepocalypse or whatever you want to call it and virtual staging have evolved simultaneously and mutualistically. The more virtual staging becomes an industry standard, the more conditions for making it seamless and successful will become standardized as well.
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After all, real staging is expensive and depends on paid labor - selecting furniture, getting workers to deliver and stage it, only to pack it back up again once the property is sold. This is a classic example of technology being used to erase entire industries. Is this a bad thing? For freelance and contract workers, yeah. For realtors? no. For real estate listings, it remains to be seen. For this blog? Absolutely. (Thankfully there is an endless supply of previously existing McMansions.)
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The thing is, real estate listings no longer reflect reality. (Did they ever to begin with?) The reason we're all exasperated with greige is because none of us actually live that way and don't want to. I've never been to anyone's house that looks like the house that may or may not exist. Even my parents who have followed the trends after becoming empty nesters have plenty of color in their house. Humans like color. Most of us have lots of warmth and creativity in our houses. Compare media intended for renters and younger consumers such as Apartment Therapy with HGTV and you will find a stark difference in palate and tone.
But when it comes to actually existing houses - look at Zillow and it's greige greige greige. So who's doing this? The answer is real estate itself aided by their allies in mass media who in turn are aided by the home renovation industry. In other words, it's the people who sell home as a commodity. That desire to sell has for some time overpowered all other elements that make up a home or an apartment's interiority to the point where we've ended up in a colorless slurry of real and unreal.
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Fortunately, after ten years or so, things begin to become dated. We're hitting the ten year mark of farmhouse modernism and its derivatives now. If you're getting sick of it, it's normal. The whole style is hopefully on its last leg. But unlike styles of the past, there's a real, trenchant material reason why this one is sticking around longer than usual.
Hence, maybe if we want the end of greige, we're going to have to take color back by force.
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including extra posts and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.
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thedensworld · 1 month
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I Can Fight | J.Ww
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Pairing: Wonwoo x reader
Genre: fluff
Summary: Wearing a revealing clothes was never uncomfortable for you. However since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear one. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.
Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰
It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.
Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.
"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.
As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.
You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?
Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.
As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.
With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.
"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.
"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.
You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.
Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."
A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.
Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."
You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."
"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.
You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."
Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."
A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.
Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.
"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.
Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.
As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.
"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.
You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."
Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."
A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"
Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."
Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.
"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.
A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.
He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.
His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.
***
You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.
His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.
As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.
"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."
Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.
As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.
"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.
A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.
You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.
"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.
You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.
Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.
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edenesth · 5 months
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The Way to His Heart [7]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 4k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 6 | Fic Masterlist | Part 8
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"Has anyone seen the mistress?" Seonghwa inquired, having lost sight of you since breakfast that morning.
He had combed through almost the entire estate, searching for you in the House of Lotus and with Eunsook, but to no avail. He had even gone as far as to check Yunho's temporary quarters, only to find the physician alone and engrossed in his work.
The general felt a twinge of embarrassment as he recalled asking the doctor, "Do you have any clue where my wife is?" only to have the taller man furrow his brows in confusion and reply, "Wha— not to be rude, but how would I know that, my lord?"
Your husband cleared his throat loudly, looking away and feigning nonchalance, "Don't get clever with me; I'm just asking. If you don't know, just say so."
Yunho lowered his head and suppressed a laugh, "You're right. My apologies, my lord. I hope you find Lady Park soon. Her next dose of medicine is almost ready. It would be best if she takes it while it's hot; the taste is slightly more bearable."
"Right, I'll find her soon. Don't worry."
The physician nodded, "I have no doubt that you will, my lord."
With that, Seonghwa hastily exited the room, questioning his decision to come there in the first place. He couldn't fathom why he assumed you would be with the handsome doctor. Even though he hadn't found you yet, there was a sense of relief in knowing that at least you weren't anywhere near Yunho, as he had feared.
And that's how he ended up back at your quarters, interrogating the servants responsible for maintaining your garden. A frown etched on his face as they shook their heads in response, "No, master. Mistress hasn't returned here since leaving for breakfast this morning."
Worry crept in as his mind conjured up wild scenarios. What if you had been taken away? What if you got hurt somewhere, unnoticed by anyone? What if—
His eyes landed on the pavilion in your garden, and it struck him. Remembering your determination to learn lady etiquette, he chastised himself for not thinking to check his own study. He had searched almost every corner of the estate except the very place he frequented the most.
Please, let her be there.
Fingers crossed, he hurried towards the study. If he didn't find you there, he might have to organise a search party.
"There you are."
His words escaped in a breathless whisper as he spotted you standing amidst his numerous shelves, completely engrossed in the book cradled in your hands. Instant relief washed over him, and he struggled to look away. Bathed in sunlight by the window, you appeared almost ethereal in that spot, your side profile captivating.
The marks on your skin had started to fade a little, with the help of Yunho's ointment, proving its effectiveness. For your comfort, the maids were instructed not to apply makeup if you weren't leaving the estate. Besides, no one here would dare consider you anything less than beautiful; you were adored by all. Your scars only strengthened everyone's determination to protect you, not just your husband.
He continued to quietly admire you from his corner, hesitant to disturb you. As you finished one book and reached for the next on a top shelf, he chuckled at your determination, especially when you went on your toes, biting your lip in concentration.
Eventually, he sighed and approached you, reaching effortlessly for the book you were attempting to get. You gasped as you felt his presence and saw his hand beside yours, "Y-you're here, Seonghwa."
Both your breaths hitched, and your eyes widened as you turned around to face him, realising the closeness. Surprised, you stumbled backwards, and his reflexes kicked in, his arm circling your back immediately, pulling you close. Frozen, your hands rested on his chest to steady yourself.
"Yes, I'm here." He murmured, his eyes shifting to see you biting your lips shyly again, the action reigniting his desire to kiss you. You stood still as a plank, heart pounding as he slowly closed the space between you. You held your breath when feeling his nose touch yours. Never having been kissed or wanted in your life, you didn't know how to react or what to do. Was this what married couples normally do?
Maybe now you'll find out.
A chill ran down your spine when you felt his lips brush lightly against yours, "Can I..." He muttered in his deep voice, gazing down at you with hooded eyes.
Before you could form a response, the door to the study slammed open, startling the two of you, and causing you to jump apart as if caught doing something scandalous.
Damn it, so close!
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, sir! I didn't mean to interrupt; it's just that—" Jongho was a mess as he stumbled in, panting and sputtering his apology.
You quickly waved to the assistant to signal it was fine before bowing to the general, "No, please, don't worry! I was just leaving anyway. I'll see you at dinner, Seonghwa."
Smiling at you, your husband nodded, "Yes. See you, my dear," The smile disappeared as soon as you left the room, causing Jongho to gulp nervously, "This better be good."
The assistant quickly collected himself, "Oh, it will be good, sir. I can promise you that." He said, rushing to make sure the doors were shut tightly before going back to debrief his master on his latest findings.
Eunsook heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing you, her concern evident as she observed you pressing your palms against your red cheeks, "Mistress, are you feeling alright?" She inquired, checking your forehead for any signs of fever.
You nodded, "I-I'm fine," attempting to calm your rapid heartbeat. The almost-lost moment with your husband lingered continuously in your mind; your first kiss had come perilously close to happening just moments ago.
"Thank goodness, you're alright. We've been looking everywhere for you. Where were you?" She questioned, and you replied, "You were looking for me? I was just reading in Seonghwa's study."
The elderly woman continued, "Yes, your medicine is ready. Physician Jung suggested taking it while it's hot," With an obedient nod, you followed her into your room. As she fed you the herbal soup, she casually asked, "You were in the master's study, you say? Did he find you there? He was searching frantically for you."
Your blush returned as you recalled the sensation of his lips brushing against yours, "Y-yes, he knows I'm safe. Don't worry." You reassured her while the head maid beamed, unaware of the fluttering in your heart as you tried to compose yourself.
Unlike you, the general did not have the luxury to linger on thoughts of your intimate moment. He vowed to himself that once your family received the retribution they deserved, he would dedicate all his attention to you. He turned serious the moment Jongho began speaking, updating him on the latest intel gathered about your family.
"What? Do those fools actually believe I'd swap my wife for one of them? Not even in their wildest dreams will that ever happen." Seonghwa scoffed in disbelief. The mere thought of your stepsisters was enough to repulse him, and he couldn't wait to send them to an early grave.
He pulled out the Jang family records again, asking, "And as for this... are there any updates? We only have a few days left until I return to work."
Jongho nodded proudly, presenting a couple of documents obtained in a not-so-honest manner, "You were right, sir. Your suspicions were accurate. We found just the thing to prove it. With this, we can finalise the plans and finally set them into motion."
"Good job, Jongho. How about that private investigator of yours?" The general inquired, his mind already buzzing with excitement as he plotted your family's demise.
The assistant bowed in gratitude, "He's still maintaining his cover in the Jang estate. He expressed his desire to assist us with the plan. Apparently, he's a huge admirer of yours, sir. That seemed to be his primary motivation for readily accepting my offer."
Seonghwa narrowed his eyes, his mistrust evident, "Is he now? Have you done a background check on him?"
"I have, sir. He's in the clear; I can vouch for him. I'm confident he harbours no ulterior motives other than a genuine admiration for you; he wants nothing more than to be recognised by you."
The general nodded, picking up the newly retrieved documents, "If you say so, I guess it won't hurt to have an extra helping hand. Make sure to pay him handsomely. Now, go get some rest; we'll be getting busy soon." His heart was immediately eased by his aide's assurance. If Jongho trusted this person, there must be a good reason.
"Yes, sir."
In the days that followed, Seonghwa appeared awfully busy, often confined to his study with Jongho for endless meetings. The next morning, you found a collection of your lady etiquette books delivered to your doorstep, with a servant mentioning that the study was required for important discussions between your husband and his assistant.
Assuming he was loaded with work after taking several days off, you didn't dwell on it much. While the general focused on perfecting his plans, you spent your days refining your etiquette with the head maid's help, working on correcting your posture, walking, table manners, and way of speaking.
The two of you only had brief encounters twice a day, during breakfast and dinner. Seonghwa apologised repeatedly, promising to spend more time with you once he completed his current project, and you reassured him that you were fine.
Time passed quickly, and before you knew it, a new week had begun, marking your husband's return to work. After your customary breakfast together, you walked him to the entrance of the estate, where his carriage awaited to transport him to the palace for the morning assembly with His Majesty, the King.
"This is as far as you'll see me off. It's cold out here, so don't spend too much time outdoors, okay? Head back to my study if you want, and take your medicine on time." He reminded sweetly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You smiled appreciatively, assuring him, "I will, Seonghwa. Don't worry about me. Have a good day at work." His heart melted at your words, and the sense of being husband and wife settled in. Having someone waiting for him at home felt unexpectedly warm, and he realised he could get used to it.
That's right, just keep smiling like that.
Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, he pressed a kiss onto your knuckles, saying, "I'll see you later, my dear."
Eunsook and Jongho exchanged knowing grins as they guided their master and mistress in opposite directions—Seonghwa into his carriage and you back to your quarters.
Carrying you in his thoughts, the general commenced his journey to the royal palace. He had always harboured disdain for the Minister of Military Affairs, but it had never been potent enough to instigate his downfall. However, circumstances had taken a drastic turn with your arrival. Your father had gravely miscalculated if he believed this union between you was a wise decision; in reality, it paved the way for his own undoing.
Unfazed by the attention, he arrived at the assembly, becoming the centre of attention for all the ministers and officials. Their curiosity was stirred by the general who had adamantly refused marriage, yet now found himself wedded against his will. Speculation abounded about whether he would cause a scene, as all members had been notified of his special agenda.
Your husband, however, remained unaffected by the scrutiny. He anticipated the spotlight, fully aware that these old fools relished nothing more than witnessing his misery. Despite his recognised achievements, it didn't automatically translate into wholehearted acceptance from these higher-ups. Their displeasure was palpable, harbouring reservations about his young age and the potential threat he posed to their established ranks.
The revelation of his marriage to you only fueled their satisfaction, as they believed that being tied to the Minister of Military Affairs would ensure Seonghwa's perpetual subordination, always a step below his father-in-law in rank.
"Good morning, General Park. You seem to be in quite a good mood." Your husband felt his eye twitch, hearing the voice he wasn't looking forward to.
Speak of the devil.
Facing your father, he smirked, "Good morning, Minister Jang. I can't deny that I am feeling quite good." It satisfied him to see your father's grin falter slightly, knowing the old man probably didn't know what to expect, but it surely wasn't this. The last thing they all expected was for him to appear... pleased.
Before the minister could voice any questions, the King entered the hall. Along with everyone else, the general knelt and bowed deeply, performing the formal greeting. In unison, they chanted, "Your Majesty, may you live a long and prosperous life. We wish for you ten thousand years of life and reign."
"You may all rise," declared His Majesty before expressing joy at the presence of his favourite subject, "Seonghwa, my boy! You're finally back! Oh, I cannot wait to hear all about your week off."
The minister raised a smug brow, eyeing your husband and presuming that his week could not have been too pleasant with you around. While he was almost certain of that, it seemed the general was adept at keeping up the act. Your father eagerly anticipated hearing about this important agenda without delay.
"Tell me, my boy. Is your wife as beautiful as we all speculated? There must have been a good reason for the minister to keep her so well hidden all these years." The King inquired, his excitement evident as he leaned forward in his seat.
Seonghwa chuckled, "Your Majesty, perhaps it wouldn't be too appropriate for us to engage in idle chatter in this meeting. After all, I'm sure all the ministers and officials here have more pressing matters to discuss and probably care little for the details of my marriage." He was merely teasing at this point, knowing full well that everyone was eager to hear about his past week.
"Nonsense! What could possibly be more important than your recent wedding? If anyone here has no interest in what General Park has to share, you are welcome to leave the assembly."
While leaving the assembly might seem like a simple option, it practically equated to a death sentence. Without the King's explicit permission, no one would be allowed to exit on their own. This implied that whoever refused to listen to what your husband had to say might as well be choosing a path leading to their demise.
All the higher-ups immediately bowed their heads low with clenched fists as they voiced in unison, "Of course not! We wouldn't dare, Your Majesty!" They were well aware of Seonghwa's subtle assertion of power over the King. Regardless of their high positions or ranks, he would always be the favourite. While it might go unnoticed by the less perceptive, it was a clear demonstration of authority, a warning not to cross him.
"Very well, I suppose I'll divulge a bit about my wife since you're all so eager to hear about her," The general couldn't conceal his shit-eating grin, pleased to have put these elderly men in their rightful places. The King applauded enthusiastically, "Please do!"
Minister Jang's earlier arrogance evaporated with your husband's unmistakable show of power, and he could only suppress his irritation as he waited to hear what Seonghwa would say about you.
"To answer your question, Your Majesty, she is even more stunning than you all might imagine, perhaps the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon, both inside and out, at least in my eyes. And you were right, my King, she truly is perfect for me. For that, I'd like to express my gratitude for sending her to me."
The entire room stood at a standstill as everyone tried to process his words. It was almost surreal that the formidable General Park, who had always been so adamant about never marrying and was coerced into this union without a choice, openly expressed his admiration for his new wife. Apart from the King, who genuinely relished hearing it, the rest of the assembly remained sceptical, wondering what game Seonghwa was playing.
"And because of that, I regret my earlier decision of not having a proper wedding ceremony. I now know my wife deserves only the best, which brings me to the important matter I'd like to address today, Your Majesty. I was hoping you would grant me permission to fix that. I'd like to plan a grand wedding to make up to her."
Your father narrowed his eyes dangerously; this was the furthest thing from what he had expected. He would rather die than give you a grand wedding. He thought he was finally done with you, believing you could have perished for all he cared. Yet, here your husband was, requesting to host a grand wedding? And for you?
Over my dead body.
His Majesty couldn't contain his joy, letting out a surprised laugh, "Oh my, Seonghwa! I'm so proud of you; I was beginning to grow worried you'd never allow yourself to love again. And of course, you can have a grand wedding! We shall host one as grand as a royal wedding if need be! Heavens, I cannot wait to meet this new Lady Park of yours; she must be something for you to have changed this much!"
Minister Jang cleared his throat, "Your Majesty, if I may cut in."
The King nodded, "Why, of course. It's your daughter we're discussing; do you have any ideas for the ceremony?"
Your father shook his head, "N-no, my King. I was hoping to remind the general that my daughter prefers simplicity and that this would not be necessary—"
With a smirk, Seonghwa cut him off, "Well then, minister, it would seem you do not know your daughter well enough, or at all."
The Minister of Military Affairs stilled at that; obviously, the general knew more than he let on, "Wha— that's not true! My eldest has always been one for frugality and would never ask for much, let alone a grand wedding; she might find that burdensome."
"Has she really not asked for much, or has she not been permitted to have a voice at all?" Your husband pressed, watching expectantly as the minister sputtered lame excuses, caught off guard.
Not oblivious to the fact that Seonghwa was attempting to convey something, the King raised a brow at Minister Jang's defensive demeanour, "What is it that you wish to say, my boy?"
Panicked, your father gulped, afraid of what the general might reveal. Not once did he think the heartless General Park would ever care about what happened to you. He assumed that, just like all the members of his family and estate, your new husband would also cast you aside and not bat an eyelash if you died, as had happened with all his previous marriage candidates.
"Your Majesty, even though Minister Jang is now my father-in-law, I feel compelled to speak out against the injustice I perceive for my wife," The minister did not dare to look up as he felt cold sweat dripping down his back, listening anxiously to what Seonghwa was going to disclose, "No matter how much he thinks she prefers simplicity, it just wasn't right for him to have sent her to me all alone on our wedding day."
With a frown, His Majesty eyed your father judgementally, "All alone? Please elaborate, Seonghwa."
Suppressing his sly grin, your husband continued, "My assistant found her wandering all by herself by the entrance of my estate, without a chaperone, any servants or palanquin bearers. And what's worse, she barely had anything on her, only carrying an empty duffel bag. Tell me, Your Majesty, who would believe her to be a noblewoman from a powerful house? I simply cannot understand why the minister could do this to his precious daughter."
"Is that true, Minister Jang?" The King's emotionless voice rang across the hall, and the minister shivered from the chill running down his spine, "W-well, yes, but—"
Everyone jumped when His Majesty slammed his fist against the handle of his throne, "That is simply unacceptable! It doesn't matter how much you insist your daughter favours simplicity; what you've done is completely ridiculous. Can you even call yourself her father? Oh, the poor girl."
Your father bowed all the way down immediately, pressing his forehead against the floor as he begged for forgiveness, embarrassed to have his wrongdoings exposed at assembly for everyone to listen like this, "Please, Your Majesty! Forgive this old fool for taking my kind daughter for granted! I will do anything to make up to her as you wish, a grand wedding if you will."
As if seeking Seonghwa's approval, the King looked at the general, "Would that suffice?"
Shrugging, your husband pressed his lips into a line, "I suppose I do have one condition, though," His Majesty nodded, "Name it."
The general smiled, "I've troubled you enough with concerns regarding my marital matters, Your Majesty. For this wedding of mine, I'd like to personally make the arrangements with the minister and his family, preferably at his estate."
"At his estate and not here? Why is that, Seonghwa?" The King asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"I just want to see where my beloved wife spent all her childhood; I'm curious about the environment that made her so precious."
As the King showered praise on your husband for his apparent sweetness and saw it merely as Seonghwa being hopelessly in love with you, Minister Jang knew better than that he had an ulterior motive, and it couldn't bode well. The general clearly has something up his sleeves, but in the presence of His Majesty, your father found himself with little choice but to comply.
What do you want from me, Park Seonghwa?
« Preview of Part 8 »
"What?! A grand wedding for that useless thing? Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Jinah screeched, her frustration evident as she pulled at her hair.
Jinhee, in disbelief, glared at your old prison cell of a room from a distance. Servants had been ordered to fill it up with things to make it seem like a storeroom in preparation for Seonghwa's visit, "Maybe we've underestimated her. It seems she actually got the general wrapped around her finger."
Minister Jang had nothing to say except to hold his head in his hands. He couldn't forget the King's disapproving looks directed at him all throughout the assembly after what your husband had revealed. Not just His Majesty; but even the other ministers and officials had been staring at him weirdly, not understanding him for what he did to his own daughter.
Jinjoo stomped around like a brat, "Father, you promised us that marrying her to him would bring us satisfaction! What the hell is this?! I refuse to accept this!"
Having had enough of their whining, the minister threw the wine glass beside him onto the floor, "Be quiet, all of you! Do you honestly think the wedding is what matters now? My position could very well be in danger, and you care about that? Fools! Get out of my sight!"
The three were taken aback by the minister's unexpected fit of anger, and their mother quickly gestured for them to leave the living hall at once. Once they were gone, Lady Jang sat down beside her husband, "What is it, dear? What's wrong?"
"Park Seonghwa knows something, I'm sure of it. He said some things today that could make me look suspicious, and if anyone starts digging around, I fear they might find out what we've been trying to hide..."
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Woohoo, shit's about to go down! Are y'all excited? HAHAHA🤭
I'm also shook that I'm like 20 followers away from reaching 1k! Thank you all so much; I just want you to know that it's your encouraging messages and replies that have been motivating me to update as quick as I can, really appreciate it!
As always, hope you enjoyed and let me know all your thoughts! <3
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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onefell · 3 months
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“I feel like something bad is going to happen to me. I feel like something bad has happened. It hasn't reached me yet but it's on its way.” -Lake Mungo (2008)
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k-buki · 2 months
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒 ! ( nsfw . mdni )
ꪆৎ . . in which ⨾ gojo satoru is a messy eater . wc 767 . cw : f!reader. cunnilingus. squirting. fingering. not proofread.
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gojo satoru is a messy eater.
and no, not in the sense of food; it’s more in the sense of you.
whenever he gets the chance to lay you on the bed and strip you, he immediately dives into your drenched folds, and fuck is he sloppy with it.
he's lapping up your juices like he hasn't eaten in days, fingers curling straight into the spot which he knows will make you completely compliant to his every wishes – and that includes letting him continuously eat you out until you're in tears.
so immediately when you get home from shopping, his lips are heaving on yours, not lacking in haste to bring you to your shared bedroom and get rid of the fabric that prevented that skin on skin contact he craved.
his unwavering grip is anchored on your hips, positioning himself in front of your panties, already plenty drenched in your slick.
"this wet already f'me, princess?" he'd coo, blue irises filled with a feral glint, flicking up to your facial features in order to purely soak in your reaction. "n' we're not even at the good part..."
in an almost animalistic frenzy, he tugs your undergarments off, staring at your dripping folds, drool already pooling on his tongue.
"'toruu..." you whine out, hands intwining into his pristine locks. "please..."
"mmhm..." he hums in reply, heeding to your whims as he gets closer, pressing a burning kiss to your clit, causing a jolt to shock your whole body.
his tongue sticks out, slowly making its way across your cunt in slow, deliberate movements. his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping himself smothered into your heat as he begins to suck on your swollen bud.
from the way you're babbling in unfettered pleasure, someone could mistake you for speaking in tongues. a symphony of intelligible noises constantly spill from your parted lips, creating a sinful melody which flowed shamelessly through gojo's ears.
it ringed out to him, translating in his mind to you begging for him. you're begging, for him.
that one fact turns him on to the max, and he carefully slides two fingers into your tight hole. your cunt immediately clamps down around the intrusion, confinements fluttering around his thick digits.
you whine out, a murmured distortion of 's'good's and 'more's rolling harmonically off of your tongue.
and of course, he responds promptly.
his tongue gets back to work, eagerly licking up the juices smeared around your folds. with the way he was drinking in your fluids, you could've incorrectly claimed him dehydrated.
yet he wasn't, he was simply deprived of you.
he groans into your pussy, a perfect display of his satisfaction. this time, he's the one begging for you.
"fuck... tastes s'good..." his free hand holds your waist down, preventing your squirming with all of his might. "give me more, please, s'addicting..."
the erotic squelching noises of his fingers pistoning in and out of you sends you reeling, and your teeth are gnawing at your bottom lip in order to not wake your neighbours.
your eyes are rolling back into your skull, almost straining from how far they managed to go. your thighs twitch around his head, squeezing against his skull and almost choking him out – but he wouldn't mind suffocating in between your legs. in his opinion, it'd be the best way to go.
your back arches prettily, hips slightly lifting off the bed as the familiar heat conjured in your abdomen.
"satoru..." you breath out breathily, gasping for the slightest bit of oxygen in your lungs. "gonna cum..."
"yeah?" he mumbles into your sticky folds, way too busy with curling his fingers in all the right spots to aid you in reaching your climax. "cum for me, go on, cum all over my face..."
and you do just that, squirting your glossy fluids all over his face, his tongue lolling out of his mouth to capture all of your essence that he can. he refused to let a single drop go to waste.
once you clamber down from your peak, you're left a limp mess in the sheets, gojo lazily dragging his heated tongue around your cunt to cleanse any drops he may have missed. he slides his fingers out of you, also licking them clean as well, humming in approval as he does so.
he backs up onto his knees, climbing on top of you with a sly smirk, your fluids coating the bottom half of his face.
in a cocky tone, he jokes, tilting his head to the side and gazing at you, lovestruck, through his pale lashes. "messy, huh?"
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©K-BUKI 2024 . plagiarism, translation + reposting on other platforms is strictly prohibited.
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New Light | B. Barnes
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Character: Neighbors!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: Y/N meets a mysterious neighbor in a stuck elevator.
A/N: I live in an apartment and often encounter different people. I wish I could start a conversation like the reader 😭
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 
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Y/N had become a recognizable presence in her apartment building, exchanging greetings with familiar faces each time she entered the lift.
One tenant, however, remained an enigma—Bucky. Tall and always clad in a large black hoodie, he never uttered a word during their encounters.
One evening, after a long day at work, Y/N stepped into the lift, and to her surprise, Bucky entered just before the doors closed.
As the elevator ascended, an unusual silence settled between them. Y/N, feeling the need to break the ice, finally spoke up, "It's been a long day, hasn't it?"
Bucky, still maintaining his stoic demeanor, nodded in agreement. The hum of the elevator provided an awkward backdrop to their brief exchange.
As they continued in silence, the lift abruptly stopped, causing them both to shift their attention to the sudden halt.
"It's probably just a minor glitch," Y/N reassured, attempting to ease the tension. She reached for the Ring button, pressing it to summon help.
The building security's voice crackled through the speaker, providing assurance that maintenance were on their way.
With a shared glance, Y/N and Bucky exchanged a subtle acknowledgment of the situation. Y/N tried to strike up a conversation again, "So, Bucky, do you live on the same floor as me?"
Bucky, though initially hesitant, replied with a simple nod. The conversation was slow to develop, yet Y/N persisted, asking about his day and interests.
Bucky, gradually opening up, revealed snippets of his life. "I work from home most days, I'm a graphicdesigner," he admitted, his mysterious aura starting to unravel.
In turn, Y/N shared stories from her workplace, finding common ground in the challenges and triumphs of daily life.
In the middle of their conversation, Y/N noticed subtle movements within Bucky's hoodie. Curiosity getting the better of her, she finally asked, "Is everything okay in there?"
Bucky hesitated for a moment before revealing a small, furry face peeking out—the source of the movement. To Y/N's astonishment, Bucky introduced her to Alpine, his cat.
Y/N was awestruck when she caught sight of an incredibly adorable cat. Its fluffy fur and playful antics immediately captured her attention, eliciting a warm and delighted smile.
Approaching cautiously, Y/N couldn't resist commenting, "Alpine is such a sweetheart! Does he always greet everyone like this?"
Bucky, Alpine's owner, looked pleasantly surprised as he replied, "Actually, Alpine is usually quite reserved. He doesn't warm up to strangers easily."
Feeling a bit special, Y/N observed as Alpine continued to display an unexpectedly friendly demeanor, rubbing against her legs. Bucky chuckled, "This is a rare sight. Alpine doesn't usually take kindly to newcomers."
The atmosphere shifted as Bucky eagerly shared stories about Alpine's quirky habits and endearing antics.
Initially taken aback, Y/N found herself engaged in a lively conversation with Bucky about their shared experiences as pet owners. "Alpine loves to climb onto my shoulders when I'm working on my laptop," Bucky chuckled, his reserved demeanor giving way to warmth.
Sensing Bucky's willingness to share, Y/N asked about his hobbies. "Besides graphic design, what do you do for fun?"
Bucky cracked a faint smile, "I'm a bit of a movie buff, and I like taking Alpine for walks." Y/N's eyes lit up, "Really? I love movies too, and I've been meaning to explore the nearby parks."
As they exchanged stories and discovered shared interests, the once awkward elevator space transformed into a comfortable setting for connection. Bucky, now more animated, even shared amusing anecdotes about Alpine's adventures, eliciting laughter from Y/N.
Y/N thought Bucky was a scary person, but it turns out he's not. She sees him in a new light.
In the end, as the building security announced that they had successfully repaired the elevator.
Relieved, Y/N couldn't help but express gratitude for the unexpected camaraderie. Before parting ways, Bucky suggested, "You know, since we've become elevator buddies, how about we walk Alpine together to the park sometime?"
Genuinely pleased by the idea, Y/N smiled and replied, "I'd love that!" The invitation marked the beginning of a new chapter in their connection.
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Author Note:
Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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Tag list:
@thezombieprostitute
@scott-loki-barnes
@rebeccapineapple
@ordelixx
@winters1917
@kandis-mom
A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't tag everyone because I wrote and edited this on my phone.
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ghouljams · 9 months
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thinking about cowboy ghost babies..... ghoul loml write whatever you want about those two ill read and reread it idgaf
chubby ghost babies....
(my cousin gave birth like 3 weeks ago and its still giving me baby fever.)
The biggest babiessss, I love thinking about Ghost's sausage-y babies. When the man said he wanted to have stupid fat babies with Goose he meant it, those babies are so chubby. Here's some baby fic.
You push Simon's legs out of the way as you sit on the couch. He's made himself comfy laid out over the length of it, your daughter is settled against his chest, sleeping just like her daddy. You don't think the baby has touched the ground once since she was born, someone is always holding her. You've even had to sway Simon away from co-sleeping, something that clearly hasn't taken.
You reach to tickle your fingers against the baby's back, she hardly squirms at the touch. Simon cracks on of his eyes open at the slightest twitch, settles a big hand over her back to keep her quiet. Already a daddy's girl, you think.
"Having a good nap?" you grin, watching Simon shift to make a sliver of room for you. You eagerly squish yourself between him and the back of the couch. His arm wraps around you, keeping you held impossibly close. His whole world in his arms.
"Just got a lot better," he mumbles, letting out a quiet huff as you make yourself comfortable. You pinch her chubby arm, feeling Simon shift to kiss the top of your head. She looks like a balloon animal, like a sausage shaped like a baby. It’s adorable. She's the prettiest little thing you've ever seen, so soft and sweet you can't believe she came from you.
You watch her yawn, little nose pinching in a way that makes you want to pop out a million more of her. Simon hums, strokes her cheek with a gentle finger. Even with as big as your baby is, she's still tiny compared to her father. Something you know makes Simon anxious, such a little thing under his protective care. You can't help feeling something similar.
Babies are so fragile. You worry over every little sniffle and sneeze, every scrunch faced cry, even things she hasn't done yet. She can't even roll over but you find yourself worrying about her walking.
"Do you think we're good parents?" You whisper ask. Simon lets out a big breath, you can feel the rise and fall of it, see the way it moves the baby on his chest.
"Fuck no," he grumbles, "you use murder ballads as lullabies."
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yeollie-plz · 6 months
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Turtle Dove
Day 2 of Pedromas! | Masterlist
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dbf! Joel Miller x Innocent! F! Reader
Synopsis: Being raised in the outbreak there wasn't much room for sexual exploration, until Joel came around.
Genre: smut
Warnings: 18+ smut, loss of virginity, p in v sex, age gap (reader is mid twenties, Joel is 50 something), kissing, oral f! and m! receiving, daddy kink, reader is innocent but also not so innocent, fingering, unprotected sex
Gif credits to owners!
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You were young when the outbreak happened, so you missed out on a lot of milestones. No awkward middle school phase. No prom. No normal teenager relationships.
Sure, there were always boys your age, but they never wanted more than just sex. You knew it was a bit cliché but you wanted your first time to be special. No reason an outbreak should stop your romantic fantasies.
Now you were in your mid twenties and you had yet to even kiss someone. Its not like you were really trying, but it was still a little disappointing. Not to mention your dad was a bit overprotective. You wanted that knight in shining armor to just come in and sweep you off your feet.
Well, that knight did show up. But instead of being in shining armor, he was your dad's best friend, Joel. He was much older than you but that didn't stop you fantasizing about him. Its not like it was ever going to ever happen anyways.
That was until you were pushed into a bathroom by Joel at a party one night. His lips were pushed onto yours. He was like a starving man when he kissed you. It was like he had been waiting for this for a while.
"Can't take the way you look at me anymore. Need to teach you a lesson." He mutters into your mouth, massaging your breast in his hands.
You whimper out his name, as he trails his hands down to your thighs. He hikes your dress up.
"Let me take care of you baby, just need you to be quiet for me. Can you do that?" You nod enthusiastically.
Then he gets down on his knees and eats you out until you are writhing mess under his firm grasp.
That was a week ago and you haven't stopped thinking about it since. And Joel hasn't stopped eye fucking since. One week ago and you hadn't even had your first kiss. Now you were sneaking around stealing glances and kisses with your dad's best friend. He trusted him and now he was all but fucking his little girl.
One night your dad comes to you, telling you that he is leaving for a few days. Without a second thought, he decides to have Joel watch over you in the time being, not suspecting anything to be going. But you smile knowingly. Excited at the prospect of spending alone time with Joel.
The night your dad leaves, you put on your best lingerie, which isn't the best since you are in an apocalypse after all! But it will do, really your main draw will be letting Joel fully have you. Isn't it all guy's fantasy to take a girl's virginity? Well, you're hoping its Joel's fantasy at least.
You find Joel in the living room, reading some book. You silently walk over and grab the book from his hand, closing it you place it onto the table next to you. He cocks his head at you, eyes taking in your half naked form.
"Baby, what are you doing?" He asks in amusement, knowing damn well what you are doing.
"Joel, we are alone. I thought that maybe daddy could help me with something." You had found out one day when the two of you had snuck away into a closet, that Joel enjoyed being called daddy. So, you were now using it to your advantage.
His eyes darken, "What do you need daddy to help with, baby girl?"
"I feel funny down here," you let your fingers tease you swollen clit, "I need daddy to make it feel better."
He grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your panties. He stands, now towering over you, he takes your hand and places it on his crotch so you can feel him already hardening.
"Do you think you can help daddy too?" Letting go of your wrist he now reaches behind your neck. His fingers run up the back of your head, brushing through your hair, before he pushes you down onto your knees.
"I want to help daddy." You confirm after you are sure you are balanced on your knees.
"Good girl, why don't you help daddy out of his pants then?" Fingers start at the buckle of his belt, undoing it quickly and pulling it from his belt loops. Then you start with the button, slowly pulling it and the zipper apart. That's when Joel grabs your head again. He uses his other hand to grab his cock out from his underwear.
"Put it in your mouth before I do it for you." He tugs your head forward, urging you to take his dick. You oblige, running your tongue down the underside of his member before wrapping your lips around it. The hand that is in your hair guides your head into a steady pace. Not too far to choke you but enough that he feels good.
This continues for a few minutes, before he can't take it anymore. Either the pace needed to change or he needed to be inside of you. But he wasn't sure you were ready for that. So he slowly pulled you off of him. You look up at him in confusion. Doe eyes making him almost finish right then and there.
"What exactly do you want daddy to do for you?"
"I want all of you, daddy." Shit, apparently you were ready for that.
"Stand up." He orders, you do. "I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you want."
Your eyes lock onto his, "I want you inside of me. I want daddy to take care of me." A flicker of mischief flashes behind your eyes, Joel catches it.
He grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. Joel carries you down the hall and into your room. Throwing you onto the bed he hovers over you, smirking at you before going down between your legs.
A finger makes contact lightly with the rapidly soaking material of your underwear. He teases you lightly before slipping his finger into the waistband, pulling them down your legs. Now feeling your full wetness, he lets a finger slip pass your entrance. He pumps in and out of you slowly, causing you to wriggle under his grasp.
He lowers his head down and gives a light lick to your clit before pulling back to gauge your reaction. Eyes closed, back arched, your face is already contorting in extreme pleasure.
Deciding that he can't wait any longer, Joel pulls his finger out of you, gaining a whimper from you. He sits up and pulls his shirt up over his head.
"Baby, I need you to look at me." You do. "I'm gonna put my dick inside you now so I need you to look at me." A nod.
Slowly he presses the tip of his dick to your entrance, easing it in just a bit. He feels you clench in anticipation, pushing him out. Your hand reaches up to grab his hip in shock. He takes your hand in his.
"Relax, baby, let it happen. Let daddy take care of you." At his words, you breathe out trying to relax yourself. It works and he pushes fully inside of you.
Your hand grips his, hard. He waits to let you adjust to the stretch. Your hand starts to loosen, he takes this as a sign to pull slowly out of you. You whine at the movement.
"Are you, okay?" He questions after your sound.
You nod, "Yeah, it was just a bit painful at first."
"Do you want me to stop?" The hand in yours squeezes slightly to keep your attention on his. The other one strokes your hip, the callouses on his fingers send a shiver through your spine.
You shake your head, "No, please, I want this."
He nods, "The pain will fade in a minute." A peck to your lips.
His pace is slow as he thrusts back into you, head tossing back at the feeling of your walls wrapping around him. As he pulls out again, he lets out a groan.
"Fuck, so tight around me." He thrusts fully into you while he speaks. You moan as he bottoms out.
He keeps the rhythm slow and steady, letting you get used to and start to enjoy the new feeling. On instinct your hips buck you to meet his. Then all of a sudden he stops. He drops your hand and grabs your hips tight, keeping you still.
“Hold still or I won’t be able to hold back.” He says through gritted teeth, while concentrating on holding back his orgasm.
His breathing slows again before he speaks, “Sorry baby, but I’m not as young as I used to be.” His fingers tap your hips as he starts to move again. His thrusts continue to be slow, but now they seem a bit more careful.
"Daddy, please, I want to see you cum because of me." You admit, trying to show that you didn't mind if he couldn't hold it off for much longer. He grunts at your words.
"Fuck, you can't say those things to me. You're too good to me, baby doll." His pace now quickens with the memory of your words swimming around in his head.
He gets sloppier as he gets quicker, now seeming to be chasing that peak. Joel reaches down between your thighs and rubs your clit.
"Want you to cum with me, baby. Do you think you can do that for daddy?" You nod in response.
He works your clit in circles, quickly getting you to your own peak. Just as your orgasm is about to wash over you, his hips stutter a bit. He recovers quickly and works your clit faster. You clench onto his cock.
A few more thrusts before you are to your edge again, your walls clench onto him again. One more circle on your clit and you are thrown over the edge, spasming around his member. You writhe with the intense feeling of your orgasm.
The intensity of your orgasm seems to also throw him over the edge as he quickly pulls out of you. Working his cock in a fast motion, before cumming all over your stomach and tits. He groans while working himself through his high.
Joel slumps onto the bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into him. His warmth radiates around you, letting sleep overcome you quickly. Just as your breaths even out, Joel places a kiss onto the crown of your head.
"Goodnight, my little dove."
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