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#and he likes to INTENTLY look at you and listen to your every word
mead-iocre · 2 days
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Squeak! | Viviannne Miedema x Wife!Reader
synopsis: the best thing about writing fiction is that you could do whatever you want. In this one, Viv signs a new contract with Arsenal.
warnings: nothing. just pure fluff
word count: 2.5k
———————
Squeak! Squeak! 
Squeak! Squeak!
You smile at the sight of your two loves walking hand in hand ahead of you. One was tall, dressed in a full Arsenal kit minus the football boots, and her hair in its signature messy bun. The other one was small, tiny by comparison, and her hair was split into two cute little pigtails. She was dressed in a romper that should not have taken as long as it did to put on this morning, but as a mum you have learned to pick and choose your battles, and letting your two-year old decide what to wear to mama’s special day was a fight you were not going to win. 
Hence why your daughter is currently strutting around the Emirates stadium in her favourite yellow trainers, embossed with little yellow ducks. And they squeak with every step too. 
Every. Single. Step. 
You mentally curse Lotte for the shoes, a gift she had given Evie for her last birthday and ever since then they were your little girl’s favourite shoes. Lotte was also kind enough to buy the shoes in multiple sizes, so you won’t be parting with the squeaky shoes any time soon. 
“Mummy!” You snap out of your thoughts at the sound of Evie’s voice. She and Viv were a few steps in front of you, your daughter was looking back at you and pointing towards the sliver view of the pitch peaking up ahead. “the pitch, mummy!”
You smile and speed up sightly, catching up to the two. When you reach them, you smooth a hand down Evie’s hair, pushing back the little curls that have escaped her pigtails. 
“Mama play football? Aunty Steffy where?”
“No, Ducky. Mama’s just going to take pictures– for the contract signing, remember” Viv picks up Evie in her arms, and your little girl happily snuggles in her mama’s arms. You and Viv share a look over your daughter’s head, with you telephonically thanking her with your eyes for putting an end to the squeaking nosies. You mentally remind yourself to hide the squeaking shoes at the back of the cupboard later.
You, Viv with Evie in her arms, and the photographer walk through the tunnel until you reach the pitch; the slightly tangy, earthly smell of the freshly cut grass is almost jarring. You could hear the photographer explain to Viv how he wants the photos to look, and you almost laugh when you spot your daughter now sitting up in Viv’s arms– her eyes bright and little cherubic face listening to the photographer just as intently as her mama. People always say Evie looks like you– but her expressions and mannerisms are all Viv. 
“Okay. Let’s take a couple of pictures with you standing in the middle of the pitch, facing the south stand and then we’ll take a few by the stands” With a thumbs up, the photographer goes over to a little studio set up and already waiting on the pitch. 
“Right. Mama’s got to go take pictures now, Ducky.” Viv crouches and places Evie down, doing her best to ignore the pout already forming on her little lips. “Stay with Mummy, okay” 
But another trait your daughter had adopted from her mama is her stubbornness. “Ducky go to! Ducky take pictures, pleeeease” Evie drawing out the ‘e’, her sweet drawl a mix of both of yours and Viv's accents. She hugs Viv’s leg, looking up at her mama with those pretty doe eyes. 
Evie knows exactly how to play her mama. Viv would do anything for your daughter, especially when she would look up at her with the same eyes that mirror yours. You try to stifle a laugh when your wife looks to you for help, her hazel eyes pleading with you to be the bad guy this time because she was definitely not going to do it. You knew that if you did not step in, Viv would do the photoshoot with her daughter on her hip just because Evie demanded it.
“Ducky, come stay with mummy. We can play football while we wait for Mama” You reach into your bag and pull out a soft mini football, waving it enticingly at your sitting pouty daughter. At the sight of the ball, you see Evie’s grip on Viv's leg loosen slightly.
Just like her footballer Mama, your daughter loved football. You and Viv had signed her up for classes as soon as she could run on her little chubby legs, and so far she looked forward to all of her weekly lessons. 
You step closer, crouching down and opening your arms for her. “Come on, Ducky. Maybe you can have a turn for photos with Mama later” 
“Photos with Mama? later?” Evie looks up to Viv for confirmation, and when she gets a nod in return, your daughter grins and skips straight into your arms. Crisis averted. 
Viv leans down to give you a kiss, pecking your lips sweetly before giving Evie a raspberry on neck which earns her that sweet melodic giggle. “I’ll be quick, love. Have fun with Mummy, Ducky” 
With one last smooch for the both of you, she turns and walks off.
You and Evie watch as Viv jogs towards where the photographer is waiting. You were so proud of her. She had been contemplating this for a while– whether to sign a contract extension or begin a new challenge somewhere else. You could tell Viv has been yearning for something new, never someone who likes to settle and be comfortable. She thrives off of being spontaneous (the opposite of you), and not making plans.
Before having Evie, Viv would angsty when she has nothing to do at home. For a while, Viv had expressed the possibility of wanting to transfer clubs and you were supportive of her. You were lucky enough to have a job that allowed you to work remotely from anywhere, so the only thing that you both would need to worry about is finding a new toddler football class for your daughter. However, Viv felt that now was not the time for a change as big as this one. She has a lot of ties to Arsenal, not just contractually but personally. She loved her teammates– teammates that have quickly become family over the years. It would’ve been really hard to leave all of that behind.
So she agreed to the contract extension during the last meeting, and since then it’s been like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Now, she is taking pictures for the announcement, which you have no doubt fans are eagerly anticipating based on the buzz on social media. 
You are snapped out of your thoughts when the football you were holding is snatched out of your hands. 
“play ball, Mummy! Ducky play now!” Evie places the ball onto the ground, and then takes a few steps back. You laugh when her face contorts into an expression you have seen so often on your wife’s face whenever she’s on the football pitch– eyes narrowed into little slits, rosy lips pressed tight together in concentration– a mini Viv in the making.
Evie runs as fast as her little legs could carry her towards the football. She kicks the ball with her left leg, sending it rolling a few feet away, and then proceeds to run after it; her little blonde curls bouncing behind her, and her yellow shoes squeaking alongside her. 
After Viv finishes taking pictures around the pitch– even taking a few with you and Evie as she promised– you are led into the office where the contract signing and the final picture-taking is due to happen. You and Viv greet Jonas with a hug, and he enthusiastically high-fives Evie, oohing-and-ahhing over her yellow shoes when she points them out to him. 
You spot the familiar looking set up where numerous of contract signings have taken place over the past couple of years. The white backdrop littered with Arsenal logos, the mahogany brown desk, and the matching chair that bares the physical contract and a pen beside it, just waiting to be signed. 
“Love, they want pictures of us” Viv waves you over to another spot in the room that overlooks the pitch thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Quickly checking on Evie, you find her standing by the desk, fully engrossed in staring at the wall displaying the club’s history and relics. You make your way over to stand beside Viv. 
“We’ll just a couple photos of the two of you here, and then we can move onto the signing” The photographer tells you both, a camera poised and ready in his hands. You lean into Viv, feeling her wrap an arm around your waist to pull you close, and you both smile for the photo. The photographer counts you down for the picture just as Viv lets out the biggest full-body sneeze you had ever witnessed.
"Achoo!"
The sound was so sudden and forceful that everyone, including the photographer, jumped. Viv's hair blew up comically, and her face scrunched up in an exaggerated sneeze expression. The photographer, momentarily startled, managed to snap the photo just at that moment.
For a split second, there was silence, and then the entire room bursts into laughter– with your laugh being the loudest. You had tears pooling in the corner of your eyes by the time you managed to calm yourself down. After getting over her initial embarrassment, Viv couldn’t help but laugh along, hiding her face behind you.
Squeak! Squeak! 
Squeak! Squeak!
“Oh god” Viv wipes at her nose, her cheeks still slightly pink. “Sorry ‘bout that everyone!” You palm her face towards your to access any damage. 
“You’re good, love. No discharge” There’s a huge cheeky grin on your face. 
“Gross. Don’t call it that” Viv rolls her eyes, but gives you a shy smile, still embarrassed by the whole thing. 
“Would you rather I call it snot then?” “No!” Viv laughs and then turns to the photographer. “Let’s take another one, and this time I’ll try my best not to sneeze”
“–but she can’t promise that” “–no promises though” You both say at the same time, drawing more chuckles from everyone in the room. 
Squeak! Squeak!
The photographer turns to the two of you and you both resume your poses from earlier. With one hand on the shutter button and the hand counting down from 3, the photographer takes the pictures. You paste a smile on your face, leaning into Viv
Squeak! 
Squeak!
Squeak! 
“Mama! Mummy! Ducky draw! Ducky draw!” 
You’re pretty sure you got whiplash from how quickly your head snap towards where your daughter’s voice was coming from. You crane your head and sure enough, she was jumping up and down gleefully, aggressively waving a white piece of paper in one hand like she was one of those flag wavers at the end of a race. In her other hand you can see what looks to be a pen. 
Squeak! 
Squeak! 
“Evelyn!” “Evelyn!”
Your daughter immediately stops jumping at the sound of her full name, the bright smile of her face dimming slightly. She knows it means that she’s in trouble. You and Viv rush over to where she’s standing right behind the desk, and sure enough Viv’s contract extension that is worth a lot of money is filled with scribbles and lines all across the bottom of the page. 
You eye your wife, wanting to follow her lead on how to handle since this was supposed to be her day. Viv just stares at her contract that is now full of squiggly lines and illegible handwriting. For a moment only silence fills the room. 
“…Well, guess you can’t sign me now. Someone already beat me to it!” 
You break first, giggling, and soon the rest of the room follows. 
“I reckon she’s a better signing than you, Viv” Jonas calls out from the other side of the room, beckoning more laughter. 
In the midst of everyone laughing about the whole situation, Viv turns and crouches down to your daughter– the mini human sized embodiment of mischief and trouble. She’s quiet now, probably sensing that she’s in a bit of trouble. 
“Ducky, this paper was very important and it was only for Mama to write on”
“Oh” A pout forms on your little rosy lips, and then silence as your toddler tries to make sense of the situation as best as she could at two. 
“…sorry Mama” Evie rushes forward, throwing her arms around her Mama’s neck, almost throwing Viv off balance. Viv stands to her full height, toddler in her arms and gives you a wink. 
“Thank you, Ducky. Next time, please ask Mama or Mummy first, okay, you can’t write on things that are not for you to write on, Ducky” Viv rocks her from side to side, her tone gentle yet firm, and so full of love. 
Jonas walks over to you all and places a new, clean, squiggle-free copy of the contract on the table. “Thank god for printing machines. We can print as many copies as needed” 
When it was finally time for Viv to sign the contract she was seated in front of a fresh, unwritten contract with a pen right beside it. Next to her, Evie was seated on her own chair– boosted up with a few pillows stacked on top of one another– with her very own copy of a contract and a pen. 
You watch, standing behind Evie, as Viv signs the contract that will keep her at her home away from home for a few more seasons. A club of people and colleagues that have witnessed your relationship from the very beginning, have witnessed you grow from a family of two to a family of three, and a place that will continue to be your second home for the time being. You were so excited for what’s to come for Viv and the rest of the team. 
As you watch your wife sign her name and signature on the dotted line, you glance over to her left and smile at the sight of your daughter doing the exact same thing– except she was drawing lines and squiggles on her very own contract. 
For the first time in Arsenal’s club history, two people pose for their contract signing– Vivianne Midema and Evelyn Miedema.
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two blurbs in one week?! who is sheeeeee
but I was feeling pretty inspired during the last couple of days, hence another fic featuring Viv and reader's daughter, Ducky. I had this idea before Viv announced that she was leaving Arsenal, but I still wanted to write it regardless lol.
I was just introduced to Stardew Valley on the switch and now I'm obsessed (I know I'm yearssss late).
I appreciate yall always,
-- butter.
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rafecameronssl4t · 12 hours
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Officially your bitch || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader
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Summary: basically what happened in s1 ep 2 when Sarah is getting a teddy from the boat with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper watching but obvs slightly different. (you being the one faking being hurt)
Warnings: swearing, mention of gun,
Word count: 977
A/n: canon fics are so fun to write 😫
MASTERLIST
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Divider by @yoonitos
"Jeez, man, this is nuts." Topper lets out a low whistle, staring at a boat nestled in someone's garden bed. "Agatha's a bitch," Rafe mutters. "Damn right, she is," Kelce adds as the three boys gape at the sight.
"I can't get it outta my head. It's on repeat. 'Your move, broski.'" Topper repeats JJ's words from a couple nights ago, when a gun was pointed at his head. "Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed right at you!" Kelce chimes in.
"That's what I'm saying. It's insane!" Topper scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Safety off!" he emphasizes, his voice rising. Kelce shakes his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and disdain. "That pogue," he mutters, his tone dripping with contempt.
Rafe, who had been staring intently at the waterline, snaps back to the conversation. His gaze sharpens as he looks at his friends. "They're freakin' pogues, man," he declares, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and exasperation.
"You know, you should get a piece," Rafe suggests, his voice steady as he looks at Topper. The gravity of his words hangs in the air. "What do you mean?" Topper asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he turns to Rafe.
"You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead," Rafe replies matter-of-factly, as if it's the most logical solution in the world. "Better than being caught without one," Kelce shrugs, offering his own brand of nonchalant support. Rafe nods in agreement, his gaze unwavering.
"Listen guys, I'm gonna get him back, all right? I'm making it a little project of mine," Topper reassures them. Rafe hums approvingly, patting his friend's back. "Yeah, you should," he affirms with a smirk.
Kelce suddenly taps Rafe's shoulder. "Yo, that's y/n." Rafe and Topper turn their heads in unison, their curiosity piqued. They see you kneeling on one knee, talking gently to Joy, your mum's best friend's little daughter.
"Oh, so you left her in the boat?" you ask softly, your voice filled with understanding. Joy nods, her eyes wide with worry. "Okay, can you tell me what she looks like?" you stand up, smoothing down your shorts. Joy looks up at you, her face serious. "She has a trunk and blue eyes," she replies, her small voice clear.
The three boys watch intently as you smile reassuringly at Joy. "Okay, I'm gonna get her for you," you say, turning towards the boat. "Be careful of the electricity," Joy quietly warns. You smile to yourself, touched by her concern, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you carefully step onto the boat.
"Don't worry, I'll be okay. It's really dangerous, so stay there, okay?" you reassure Joy with a confident smile. Rafe, standing a few feet away, removes his sunglasses, his eyes narrowing as he watches your every move. "What's she doing?" he mutters to no one in particular, his concern evident.
"Watch her fall and make a big drama out of it," your brother scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed by your antics. Rafe glances at Topper, eyebrows raised. "Hey! There's 14,000 volts in those wires," Joy's mum calls out urgently from the porch, her voice filled with anxiety.
You take a slow, deliberate step onto the plank, feeling it wobble slightly under your weight. With a mischievous grin, you glance back at the onlookers, enjoying the attention. A quiet shriek escapes your lips as you pretend to lose your balance for a moment.
"Hey, y/n, be careful!" Rafe hollers, his voice louder and more urgent now. He takes a step forward, his body tense with concern. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," your mum mutters as she walks out onto the yard, her face a mask of frustration and fear. "Y/n, get down now!" she shouts, her tone a mix of anger and desperation.
"Mum, calm down. I'm an athlete. I got this," you reply playfully, flashing her a reassuring smile as you continue your careful approach toward the boat. Your confidence does little to ease the tension among the onlookers. The plank creaks under your weight, but you maintain your balance,
"You're gonna get electrocuted! Get down!" your mum screams, her voice trembling with panic. You ignore her, your focus on the gentle sway of the boat as you step onto it. "She just wants attention," Topper mutters, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Are you kidding me?" your mum persists, her tone growing more frantic. You turn to face her, a playful grin spreading across your face as you shimmy your shoulders, teasingly.
"Oh my—no. When I tell your dad about this, y/n!" Your mum exclaims, her voice a mix of exasperation and genuine fear. "Y/n, that's not fucking funny," Rafe yells in annoyance, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He watches you with a mixture of concern and irritation, unable to shake off the worry that gnaws at him.
"Little fried y/n," Topper comments, a smirk playing on his lips as he observes the scene unfold. Kelce looks at him, puzzled by the comment, but Topper simply shrugs it off. "Top, your sister's crazy, man," Kelce remarks, shaking his head in disbelief as Topper snorts, "Tell me about it."
With a knowing smile, you reach the boat and spot the disconnected wire exactly where you expected it to be. "I see her!" you call out across the yard as you place a steady hand on the boat.
"Y/n!" your mum's voice echoes for what feels like the hundredth time, a mixture of frustration and genuine concern laced in her tone. "When I tell your dad—" Her words are abruptly cut off by your convincing scream as you pretend to slip into the boat. "Fuck—" Rafe's reaction is immediate, his instincts kicking in as he rushes forward.
After a few seconds, you grab the cord, swinging it in front of you with a smile. Kelce breaks out in laughter at your prank, the sound mingling with the collective sighs of everyone watching. Rafe's face fills with relief and annoyance as his tongue pokes agains this inner cheek. "It's disconnected!" you announce with a laugh.
"Holy shit!" Kelce smacks Rafe's shoulder, his eyes wide with amusement as he looks at you, clearly annoyed and unimpressed. "For the love of God," your mum mutters as she slips her sunglasses back on and strides away, clearly needing a moment to recover from the prank.
"She got you good, man," Kelce snickers, unable to hide his laughter at Rafe's bewildered expression. "Absolute suckers!" you crow from the boat, your laughter ringing out triumphantly. "Babe, you should see your face," you giggle, retrieving Joy's teddy bear. "Yeah, okay, yeah, I'm sorry that I care. All right, guilty," Rafe throws his hands up in mock surrender though his face expression remained annoyed.
As Rafe stands there, still trying to process what just happened, he feels a hand on his shoulder. "Congrats, dude. You're officially her bitch," Topper says with a smirk, offering his congratulations in his own unique way. Rafe rolls his eyes at the jest.
"Alright." Topper gives Rafe a hearty pat on the back. "Officially, did you know that? You're officially her bitch, all right?" Topper's laughter rings out as he teases Rafe, but Rafe isn't having any of it. With a swift motion, he slaps away Topper's hand. "Shut the fuck up, dude," he grumbles, shaking his head in annoyance before striding over to you.
"See! Just further proved my point, bro!" Topper yells amidst his laughter, clearly enjoying the reaction he's getting. Kelce joins in, chuckling at the playful banter unfolding before him.
Rafe reaches you, offering his hand despite his lingering annoyance. You giggle at the exchange, finding his frustration amusing. "Are you fucking crazy?" Rafe spits, his irritation evident, but you can't help but laugh at his reaction.
"Aww, I love you too, babe," you playfully pout, quickly kissing his lips before turning your attention back to Joy, handing her teddy bear over with a smile. Rafe stands there with a defeated look, unable to stay mad for long.
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estapa-edwards · 3 days
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"Team Sweetheart" and "Physical Therapist" are so gorgeous I've reread them both like 10 times! They leave me so full of butterflies I am positively buzzing! May I please make a request with Jack and a girl who has no knowledge/familiarity with hockey, or any sports for that matter? Maybe just them introducing eachother to their interests/worlds as their relationship develops and it's just nice to be with someone a bit removed from what Jack's life is centered around. Idk if that makes sense please ignore this if you don't like it.
CONNECTION - J . HUGHES
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paring: Jack Hughes x reader
word count: 2k
requested? yes
warnings: use of y/n.
*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*
Jack Hughes walked into the quiet café, eager for a break from the relentless pace of his hockey-centered life. The New Jersey Devils had been having a grueling season, and every moment off the ice felt like a precious escape. The café, tucked away in a corner of downtown Newark, had become his haven. Today, however, he was greeted by an unfamiliar face behind the counter.
“Hi, welcome to Brewed Awakening. What can I get you?” the girl asked with a warm smile. Her name tag read "Y/N."
Jack glanced at the menu, though he already knew what he wanted. “I’ll have a black coffee, please.”
Y/N nodded, her fingers flying over the buttons of the register. “Coming right up. Are you from around here?”
Jack hesitated. Despite his growing fame, he still enjoyed the anonymity of casual encounters. “Yeah, I live nearby. What about you?”
Y/N handed him his change and started preparing his coffee. “I just moved here for school. Trying to get the hang of the city and all.”
Jack smiled. “It’s a great place once you get to know it. What are you studying?”
“Art history. I know, it’s not exactly the most practical major, but it’s my passion,” she said with a slight laugh. “What about you? What do you do?”
Jack paused, unsure of how to respond. “I’m... in sports,” he said vaguely.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his hesitation. “Any particular sport?”
“Hockey,” he admitted. “I play for the New Jersey Devils.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, I don’t really follow sports. But that sounds impressive!”
Jack chuckled. “That’s okay. It’s actually kind of refreshing to meet someone who isn’t obsessed with hockey.”
Y/N handed him his coffee. “Well, I’m glad I could provide a break from the norm. Enjoy your coffee!”
As Jack took a seat by the window, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had met in a long time. He found himself looking forward to his next visit to the café.
--- --- --- 
Over the next few weeks, Jack found himself returning to Brewed Awakening more often. Each time, he and Y/N would chat for a few minutes, their conversations growing more personal with each encounter. Jack learned that Y/N was passionate about art, spending her weekends exploring museums and galleries. She, in turn, learned about Jack’s rigorous training schedule and the pressures of professional sports.
One rainy afternoon, Jack entered the café, drenched from practice. Y/N greeted him with a sympathetic smile. “Rough day?”
“Just a long one,” he replied, shaking off his wet jacket. “Do you have a break coming up? I’d love to hear more about this art thing you’re always talking about.”
Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I do. Give me five minutes to finish up here.”
A few minutes later, Y/N joined Jack at his table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. “So, where should I start?”
“Tell me about your favorite artist,” Jack suggested, genuinely curious.
Y/N’s face brightened. “That’s a tough one, but I’d have to say Vincent van Gogh. His work is so emotional and raw. There’s something incredibly moving about the way he saw the world.”
Jack listened intently as Y/N described van Gogh’s turbulent life and vibrant paintings. He found himself captivated by her passion and the way she brought the art to life with her words.
“You should come to the museum with me sometime,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I think you’d really enjoy it.”
Jack smiled. “I’d like that. And maybe I can take you to a hockey game in return?”
Y/N laughed. “Deal. But you’ll have to explain everything to me. I know absolutely nothing about hockey.”
Jack chuckled. “I think I can manage that.”
--- --- --- 
Their first outing together was to the Newark Museum of Art. Jack was out of his element but excited to see the world through Y/N’s eyes. As they wandered through the galleries, Y/N explained the stories behind the paintings and sculptures, her voice filled with excitement and admiration.
“This is one of my favorites,” she said, stopping in front of a large, colorful painting. “It’s called ‘Starry Night Over the Rhône’ by van Gogh. Look at the way the stars and the reflections in the water create this almost dreamlike scene.”
Jack stared at the painting, trying to see it the way Y/N did. “It’s beautiful,” he said finally. “I can see why you like it so much.”
Y/N smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Art has always been a way for me to escape, to see the world differently.”
Jack nodded, understanding more than he expected. “Hockey is like that for me. When I’m on the ice, everything else fades away.”
A few days later, it was Y/N’s turn to step into Jack’s world. She had agreed to attend one of his games, despite her lack of knowledge about hockey. Jack had arranged for her to have a prime seat, and as she settled in, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.
The arena was buzzing with energy, fans cheering and waving signs. Y/N watched in awe as the players took to the ice, their speed and skill mesmerizing. She spotted Jack, his focus intense as he prepared for the game.
Throughout the match, Y/N found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering along with the crowd even though she didn’t fully understand the rules. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time Jack made a play, his talent and dedication evident in every move.
After the game, Jack met her outside the locker room, still in his gear and grinning from ear to ear. “So, what did you think?”
“It was amazing!” Y/N exclaimed. “I had no idea hockey could be so intense. You were incredible out there.”
Jack laughed, relieved that she had enjoyed herself. “I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we can make a fan out of you yet.”
Y/N smiled. “Maybe. But only if you keep coming to art galleries with me.”
“Deal,” Jack agreed, feeling a warmth spread through him. Despite their different worlds, he felt a connection with Y/N that he hadn’t felt with anyone else.
--- --- --- 
​​As the weeks turned into months, Jack and Y/N grew closer, finding comfort in their contrasting interests. They delighted in introducing each other to new experiences, each outing deepening their bond.
One sunny Saturday, Jack found himself at a local art supply store with Y/N. She was on a mission to find the perfect set of watercolors for a new project. Jack followed her through the aisles, amused by her enthusiasm.
"Do you paint?" Jack asked, curious.
"I dabble," Y/N replied with a grin. "Mostly for fun, though. It’s a great way to relax and let my mind wander."
Jack picked up a brush, twirling it between his fingers. "Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’ve never really done anything like this."
Y/N’s eyes lit up. "I’d love to! It’s really not about being perfect, just about expressing yourself."
A few days later, Y/N set up a makeshift studio in her apartment, covering the table with newspapers and setting out a variety of paints and brushes. Jack arrived, looking both excited and apprehensive.
"Ready to become the next Van Gogh?" Y/N teased, handing him a canvas.
Jack laughed. "I think that might be a stretch, but I’m ready to give it a shot."
As they painted side by side, Y/N offered gentle guidance, encouraging Jack to experiment with colors and shapes. Despite his initial uncertainty, Jack found himself enjoying the process. It was a welcome change from the structured, high-pressure world of hockey.
"You’re a natural," Y/N said, admiring Jack’s painting of a snowy landscape.
Jack shook his head with a chuckle. "I think you’re just being nice, but thanks. This is actually really fun."
Y/N smiled, pleased to see Jack so relaxed. "See? I knew you’d enjoy it."
Their relationship continued to flourish, each new experience bringing them closer together. Jack took Y/N to more games, patiently explaining the rules and strategies. Y/N, in turn, took Jack to more art exhibits and even a few art classes.
One evening, after a particularly thrilling game, Jack and Y/N found themselves at a quiet diner, sharing a plate of fries. Jack looked at Y/N, feeling a surge of gratitude.
"You know, I never thought I’d enjoy learning about art so much," Jack admitted. "But being with you has opened my eyes to so many new things."
Y/N reached across the table, squeezing his hand. "And I never thought I’d enjoy sports, but you’ve made it so much fun. It’s nice to have someone to share these experiences with."
Jack smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite their different backgrounds, they had found a way to connect on a profound level. It was a rare and precious thing, and Jack knew he wanted to hold onto it.
--- --- ---
As their relationship grew stronger, Jack and Y/N began to face the challenges that came with their differing worlds. Jack’s demanding schedule often kept them apart, and Y/N’s art exhibitions sometimes took her to different cities.
One evening, after a particularly grueling week of practice and games, Jack called Y/N, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I miss you," he admitted. "It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages."
Y/N sighed, feeling the distance keenly. "I miss you too. It’s hard, but we’ll get through it. How about we plan something special for next weekend? Just us."
Jack’s spirits lifted at the thought. "That sounds perfect. Let’s go somewhere quiet, away from everything."
The following weekend, they escaped to a cabin in the woods, a peaceful retreat where they could unwind and reconnect. They spent their days hiking through the forest, cooking meals together, and sitting by the fire, talking about everything and nothing.
One evening, as they sat on the porch, watching the sunset, Jack took Y/N’s hand. "I’m really glad we’re doing this," he said softly. "It’s exactly what I needed."
Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. "Me too. It’s nice to just be us, without all the noise."
As they sat in comfortable silence, Jack realized how much Y/N meant to him. She had become his anchor, a source of joy and calm in his hectic life. He knew their relationship wasn’t always easy, but he was willing to face any challenge as long as they were together.
With the hockey season winding down, Jack finally had more time to spend with Y/N. They began to talk about their future, their conversations filled with excitement and hope.
One sunny afternoon, they found themselves at a local park, lying on a blanket and watching the clouds drift by. Jack turned to Y/N, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Have you ever thought about what comes next for us?" he asked.
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "I think about it all the time. I want us to keep exploring new things together, to keep supporting each other’s passions."
Jack nodded, feeling a sense of certainty. "I want that too. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. Your dreams are just as important as mine."
Y/N reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Jack’s face. "And I’m here for you, always. We’ll figure it out together."
As they lay there, hand in hand, Jack knew they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives. It wouldn’t always be easy, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready for anything. They had built a strong foundation, one based on mutual respect and a genuine love for each other’s worlds. And as they looked towards the future, they knew that together, they could face whatever came their way.
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witchy-scribblings · 2 days
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in honor of my latest tattoo, here is some tattoo artist choso kamo.
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❀ tattoo artist choso who works at a small studio that you had heard about from your friend, yuki. you had been thinking of getting a tattoo for quite some time now, and yuki was quick to send you the studio's instagram page to browse through the styles they worked with.
❀ tattoo artist choso who specialises in blackwork, and whose previous works were so beautifully crafted that you hardly hesitated to hit him up with a detailed idea of the tattoo you wanted.
❀ tattoo artist choso who replies fast to all of your inquiries because he's a professional (totally not because he thinks you look cute in your instagram posts), and keeps you updated with the design, secretly a little anxious that you won't like it.
❀ tattoo artist choso whose heart does a flip when your response to the final design is sending him an excited little voice note. he has listened to the ten-second file more times than he'll ever admit but, damn, who can blame him when you sound just as cute as you look?
❀ tattoo artist choso who walks to the studio on the day of your appointment and can't help but look at himself in every reflection that he walks past, making sure for the umpteenth time that his eye make-up isn't smudged or that his hair is in place.
❀ tattoo artist choso who gets there and sees that you're early, already waiting for him to arrive. the way you're smiling at him with a radiance that clashes heavily with the dark aesthetic of the studio makes him realise that he's more fucked than he had originally thought.
❀ tattoo artist choso who knows - he's fully aware - that you chose to wear a sundress merely out of convenience, but he's also fully aware of the way it hugs your body in ways that should be illegal.
❀ tattoo artist choso who is painfully aware that he's holding his breath and that his hands are shaking slightly as he presses the stencil to your skin, heavily fixated on the way you're standing between his parted legs; it's honestly a miracle he gets the placement right on the first try.
❀ tattoo artist choso whose voice is so soothing when he asks you to lie down on your stomach, when he reminds you that you can request a break whenever you need it, and when he gives you a heads up before pressing the needle to your skin.
❀ tattoo artist choso who immediately gets into a more professional headspace when he's working on your tattoo - god forbid he messes up because he can't pull himself together, but he still can't help risking small glances up at your peaceful face. if you were to notice he'd say he was just checking on you.
❀ tattoo artist choso who might not show it, but appreciates that you keep a conversation going where he answers with hums and short answers. he hopes you don't think you're boring him, he's just both very focused on his job and very afraid of his voice cracking if he has to string together more than three words.
❀ tattoo artist choso who is almost relieved when the session comes to an end. he rolls away on his stool to stretch his shoulders, entirely missing the way your eyes follow the hem of his shirt as it rides up.
❀ tattoo artist choso who applies the cooling gel on your fresh tattoo in small circles and tries not to dwell on how you're staring intently at his hands. he blames the goosebumps rising on your skin on the cold cream.
❀ tattoo artist choso who recites the care routine for fresh tattoos to you almost on autopilot, absently thinking that it would be pretty nice to kiss your smiling lips.
❀ tattoo artist choso who asks you to send him a daily picture of the healing process, and although he asks this of all his clients to avoid potential complications, he thinks to himself guiltily that he also wants to keep seeing your name pop up on his phone.
❀ tattoo artist choso who longs to reply to every picture with so much more than "it looks good, keep taking good care of it", but a small voice inside makes him reconsider, makes him believe that the chemistry that he had felt had been entirely one-sided.
❀ tattoo artist choso who, a couple weeks after your appointment, and after a week of silence from you, receives a message on his personal instagram. "she thinks you're really cute, y'know?"
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estellan0vella · 2 days
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Wouldn't Want To Be Anywhere Else ❀Megumi Masterlist HFBU
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You’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The room is dim, the only light coming from the digital clock on the nightstand. Megumi lies next to you, his steady breathing the only sound breaking the silence. His presence is comforting, a warm anchor in the cool, quiet night. You turn your head slightly, looking at his relaxed face, his dark hair tousled against the pillow. You feel a surge of affection and a hint of anxiety, the latter always lurking in the background since your diagnosis.
Living with epilepsy is a constant balance of caution and normalcy, and having Megumi by your side has made it easier. He’s calm, reliable, and incredibly understanding. He never makes you feel like a burden, which is something you’ve feared with previous partners. Instead, he treats your condition with a practical matter-of-factness that helps you feel safe.
You remember the first time you told him about your epilepsy. It was early in your relationship, a time when revealing such personal details felt like peeling back layers of vulnerability. You’d been at a small café, the buzz of conversation and the clinking of cups creating a cozy backdrop. Megumi had listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours, and when you were done, he’d simply nodded.
“I understand,” he’d said. “We’ll handle it together.”
And you have. From keeping track of your medication schedule to learning the best ways to support you during and after a seizure, Megumi has become an expert on the intricacies of your condition. He’s attended appointments with you, asked the right questions, and even researched new treatments and support groups. His dedication is unwavering, and it fills you with gratitude and love.
Tonight, though, you’re restless. You shift slightly, trying not to disturb him, but Megumi is a light sleeper. His eyes flutter open, and he turns his head to look at you.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just can’t sleep,” you whisper back, trying to keep your voice steady.
He reaches out and gently squeezes your hand. “Want to talk about it?”
You hesitate, then nod. “I’m just… worried, I guess. About the future. About having another seizure.”
Megumi shifts closer, his presence a solid, reassuring weight beside you. “I know it’s hard,” he says softly. “But we’re in this together. You’re not alone.”
You smile, feeling a little better. His words, simple as they are, hold a lot of weight. You turn on your side to face him, taking comfort in his familiar features. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, are soft in the dim light, full of concern and love.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.
He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, and that means being here for you, no matter what.”
You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they’re the good kind—tears of relief, of gratitude. You lean in, and he meets you halfway, your lips brushing in a tender kiss. It’s a reminder that you’re not facing this alone, that Megumi is right there with you, every step of the way.
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The next day, you’re at the park, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. Megumi is next to you, his hand entwined with yours as you stroll along the path. It’s a beautiful day, the kind that makes you forget about your worries, even if just for a little while. You’re both quiet, content to just be in each other’s company.
As you walk, you see a group of children playing nearby, their laughter ringing out across the park. You watch them for a moment, feeling a pang of longing. You’d love to have a family someday, but the thought of raising children with your condition is daunting.
Megumi seems to sense your shift in mood. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “What’s on your mind?”
You glance at him, considering how to put your feelings into words. “I was just thinking about the future,” you say slowly. “About having a family. It feels… complicated.”
Megumi nods, his expression thoughtful. “It’s something we’d have to plan for, sure. But I don’t think it’s impossible. We’d just need to be careful and make sure we have the right support in place.”
His words are reassuring, and you find yourself relaxing a little. “You’re right. I guess I just worry about the ‘what ifs’ sometimes.”
“We all do,” Megumi says quietly. “But we can’t let them stop us from living our lives. We’ll figure it out, together.”
You smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. You know that with Megumi by your side, you can face whatever challenges come your way.
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Later that evening, you’re at home, preparing dinner together. Megumi is chopping vegetables while you stir a pot on the stove. It’s a simple, domestic scene, but it’s moments like these that you cherish the most. The comfortable routine, the easy conversation, the way you move around each other in perfect sync.
As you set the table, you feel a familiar aura begin to settle over you. It’s a sensation you’ve come to recognize all too well—the onset of a seizure. Your heart starts to race, and you clutch the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself.
“Megumi,” you manage to say, your voice strained.
He’s at your side in an instant, his eyes sharp with concern. “It’s happening?”
You nod, and he gently guides you to the couch, helping you to lie down on your side. He moves quickly and efficiently, making sure the area around you is safe. He’s done this so many times, and his calmness helps to ground you.
“I’m here,” he says softly, holding your hand. “I’m right here.”
The seizure takes hold, and everything becomes a blur. But through it all, you’re aware of Megumi’s presence, his steady voice, and the comforting feel of his hand in yours. It’s over relatively quickly, but it leaves you exhausted and disoriented.
When it’s over, Megumi helps you sit up, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?”
You nod weakly, leaning against him for support. “Yeah, I think so. Just tired.”
He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “Rest for a bit. I’ll finish up dinner.”
You’re too tired to argue, so you let him take care of everything. As you rest on the couch, you watch him move around the kitchen, marveling at how effortlessly he seems to handle everything. His quiet competence and unwavering support make you feel incredibly lucky.
After a while, he brings over a plate of food and sits down next to you. You eat together in companionable silence, the simple act of sharing a meal grounding you after the seizure. Megumi’s presence is a constant reminder that you’re not alone, that you have someone who loves you and will always be there for you.
As you lie in bed that night, you think about the future again. This time, though, it doesn’t seem quite so daunting. With Megumi by your side, you know you can face whatever comes your way. You reach out and take his hand, feeling a sense of peace settle over you.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion.
He turns to you, his eyes soft and full of love. “For what?”
“For being here. For everything.”
He smiles, squeezing your hand gently. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
You drift off to sleep, feeling safe and loved. And as you do, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together.
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nahoyasboyfriend · 3 days
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Burning desire
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warnings: professor and student, fem!reader, shameless smut, creampie bc why not, choking (it's James what did you expect), readers a love(lust)struck loser who likes her teacher.
Word count: 4.8k
A/N: first time writing something on that more the 2k. This isn't proofread, but I hope it's to your liking. This is kinda old so it might be bad. Hope you enjoy!
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You arrived fairly early on the first day. It wasn't really intentional—you live only a few blocks away and paranoid that you have somehow overslept, rushed to get ready. Thankfully you aren't too early for the door to be locked, just enough for the classroom to be mostly empty of students. There were two other people in the room, pulling paper and pencils out their bags and not paying you any mind. You make yourself comfortable in your seat—not too close but not painfully far from where the instructor will be—and follow in their example.
With nothing left to do, you pull out your phone to mindlessly scroll until class starts. In the midst of liking some random post, your phone buzzes—the low battery notification pops on the screen. You would forget to charge your phone last night. Sighing, you reach into your bag to grab your charger, sifting through the content of your bag only to find it not in there; you must've left it at home. Just great. After your phone dies, you have no other choice but to either look blankly at your desk or watch the few people here.
You find your eyes flitting across the room to them; it's not like you don't watch people when you're bored anyway.
When you've had your fill of observing, the door opens—it looks like your teacher has finally arrived. You watch the man get himself ready for the upcoming lecture; he’s busy arranging some paperwork so you take the time to ogle him shamelessly. He looks young, maybe around his early thirties. His hair is slicked down to perfection and he has a little pencil mustache—He is, admittedly, rather handsome.
You hadn't expected that. You weren't quite sure what your expectation was—probably thought he'd be some fourty-year old depressed asshole whose wife doesn’t love him. Yeah…that'd be the type of person who looks like they’d teach a course like this one.
Suddenly, he glances up, probably to check how many people had come in. Still, it scares the living daylights out of you—you rip your gaze away from him. Opting to snatch up your phone and pretend you have more interesting things to look at besides your teacher, you feel your face warm up when you still feel his eyes on you. The sound of his chair scraping the floor pulls everyone's attention to the front; he saunters over to the board and jots down his name with Expo marker.
“My name is Mr. March,” he declares with a smile. Oh fuck, he has a nice voice.
You don't pay much attention to the rest of his introduction, but you still enjoy the timbre of his voice. Instead, you go back to admiring his looks in a totally-not-creepy way. He looks like money-personified; the black vest, the white button-up underneath, and the pair of black pants are all crisp and obviously made with premium material. He even walks with a grace that most lack,talking in a manner like he is more of a socialite than a mere college professor.
More students start to flow in and by the time Mr. March is through with going over his expectations for the semester, everyone is seated and ready for class to start.
In the row ahead of you, a group of girls were quietly debating amongst themselves if he was single or not. You would've laughed if you weren't curious yourself. You spent the remainder of class staring at him without listening to a word that left his pretty mouth (later on you beat yourself up for not taking notes). His voice was hypnotic, each word sinking you deeper into whatever trance you were in. He was refined… elegant. Every movement looked calculated.
Honestly, he could be one of those old Hollywood stars. Face perfectly sculpted to be plastered on billboards; a smile born for posters. Briefly, you wondered if you were to go searching that you'd find him in a classical film.
Then, he's looking at you and the world stops—it shouldn't be anything mind-blowing because there's really nothing special about it, but still, you find yourself immobilized. His voice is syrupy, smooth, and mind-numbing. He clears his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks expectant, like he's waiting for something. He definitely asked you a question. Scrambling through your racing thoughts, you just stare dumbly at him, waiting for him to repeat whatever he had asked. He doesn't.
“I, er, don't know,” you mumble sheepishly. He quirks an eyebrow at that, painfully unimpressed. He doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity and his silence suffocates you. The only sounds in the class were a few chuckles from other students. You shift in your seat.
“You would've known if you had listened to me,” he lightly scolds. You nod, hoping that'll be enough to show that you get his point. He furrows his brows, and he looks like he's about to push it further. Luckily, he takes mercy on you and simply repeats the initial question.
A few more giggles, and the class is back to normal. You'd think being publicly berated would be enough for you to learn your lesson, but it isn't. Because soon enough, his words are going in one ear and out the other—the words meld together into a pleasant hum in the background.
Before you know it, class is over. You bite your lip as you hurry to pack your bags, the shame from earlier returning like a punch to the gut. You don't dare look in his direction, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You scurry out the door, and thank the lord he's your only class of the day.
You let out a long-awaited sigh as you burst through your front door, haphazardly throwing your bag in the corner—you can finally decompress. You study until you feel like your head is about to burst to keep your thoughts off of him and the rather embarrassing way your first day ended.
It's been a few weeks since you got chastised for being an absent-minded idiot, and despite the embarrassment you can't bring yourself to be mad at him. Instead of anger, or even mild annoyance, all you feel is attraction. You try to deny it, bottle it up and push it to the back of your mind. Innocent fascination is what you label it. His passè charm and unconventional way of speaking is why you can't get him out of your head. That's the real reason all your thoughts lead back to him. Why at night you get struck with downright obscene visuals of him. You don't touch yourself— At least not in reality.
The you— you’ve conjured up in your head does, she touches him too. She fondles him in places you'll never see—let alone touch in real life. He says things to her that you'll never hear. He gradually seeps into your dreams, when that happens you wake up with damp underwear, and humiliation that settles deep in the crevices of your gut. It makes seeing him so much worse, but something about him captivates you.
You find yourself sneaking glances when you're convinced he isn't looking– It's the only thing you can't seem to stop– so you indulge. The only rule: don't get caught. And that sounds pretty easy to adhere to. Just don't look too long.
Simple, right?
Naively, you were confident you could do it. It worked for a little while. But at some point, you got complacent. Assured yourself you wouldn't get caught because you were doing so well. Your eyes meet in slow motion, or that's how it felt to you. In the middle of personal study time, so you had no real excuse. Neither of you break eye contact for a few more seconds, and he has a plain, almost bored expression on his face.
Ducking your head down, you stare at your blank paper. You don't pretend to write anything. It's pointless now. You’d been caught red-handed. You simply sit there, wallowing in your shame. That's become your favorite pastime lately. Deciding enough time has passed, you peek up. He's gone back to whatever he was writing and you decide that now is the time to actually write on your paper.
Class ends and you're packing up. You don't rush today, taking your time collecting your things.
“a word, please.”
You swallow dryly, cemented in place. Hesitantly, you peer up at him. His eyes bore deep into your soul like two black voids sucking you in. Growing impatient, he adds: “Yes, you. I'd like to speak to you.”
You dwandle your way to him. He doesn't rush you, at least not verbally, but by the look on his face your torpor was getting under his skin. You pick up the pace. Finally, you reach his desk. “You, um, wanted to speak to me?”
“Mm,” He clasps his hands, sitting them on his desk. “I called you here to discuss your grades,” he says, “you're a clever girl, we're both aware of that. You could be doing so much better, but there's something distracting you, correct?”
For a brief moment thick, uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you. You rummage through your brain for explanations. How could you tell him that he's the distraction? That all your troubles were somehow connected to him.
“I, uh, haven't been keeping up with my studies lately,” you stammer, “My sleep schedule has been kinda messed up,” Because of you. “So, when I get that in order I should be good.”
He frowns, narrowing his eyes slightly; he doesn't look convinced. Standing up, he makes his way to you. He stops in front of you, looming over you like a shadow. He's of average height, but you still have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You’re struck by the fragrance of his cologne— god, he smells amazing. He places a hand on your shoulder, you tense up almost immediately. His hand is so big. Shaking those thoughts away, you nervously await his next word.
“If you don't compose yourself, I fear I may have to take on a more… hands-on approach.” he tuts, giving your shoulder a nearly painful squeeze. You blink, dazed. You swallow once more, desperately trying to wet your throat. “I understand,” you utter, voice airy like you'd been running a marathon. You feel dizzy. His words buzzing in your head like tv static.
You honestly just want to get out of here, and wait out the heat that’s building between your thighs. Pleased with your response, he smiles at you. A lazy, feline grin, and you can see the slight indents of his dimples.
“Wonderful!” He replies, gleefully. His hand lets go of your shoulder. Your skin is still throbbing from the contact. “Well, then, you're dismissed.”
When you make it inside, you're panting, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from speed walking all the way home. You let your bag drop onto the floor, unconcerned with where it lands. You sigh, exasperated. There's a pressure in your chest, or it could be described as a warmth. Or an ache. Or all those things at once. You weren't sure— nor do you really care. All you know is his words keep replaying in your head, muddling all your thoughts.
You practically run to your bed, exhausted from your own thoughts. Before you can attempt to stop it, he's invading your head for the umpteenth time. You groan. That warmth in your chest begins trickling down, pooling in the space between your legs. You can still feel his hand on your shoulder, the dull ache of the squeeze. Flipping onto your back, you stare vacantly at the ceiling. You could only deny yourself for so long. Placing your feet flat on the mattress, your hand slips past the band of your panties. A little relaxation couldn't hurt. Especially with how pent up you've been, It was well deserved.
You let out a breathless little whine when your fingers brush your swollen clit. God, you needed this. You run a finger through your folds, the slick sticks your skin. Using your wetness to ease the friction, you rub slow circles on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut. You could see him on the back of your eyelids. Your hips buck up pathetically into your own hand. You're leaking, cunt quivering around nothing.
You could still smell him. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, even now it lingered in your nose. Rich and velvety. Something that wealthy decadents would wear just to let you know you'd never be able to afford it. You push a finger in, various curses fall from your lips. His hands– my god, his hands. They're so big. So strong. You slip another finger in. The heel of your hand grinds against your clit, and the feeling sends chills down your spine.
You're a writhing, squirming mess on your bed. The squelching from your fingers thrusting into your dripping cunt has the tips of your ears burning, but you don't stop. You picture him, his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, methodically fucking them in and out of you. You imagine him curling them inside of you, and you mimic the motion in real life, sending another rush of slick gushing out. You think about the sweet purr of his voice, urging you on— instructing you to cum, so you do. You come hard, mumbling his name like he's your new god.
The shower after is long and quiet, you spend a good portion letting the water run down your body to soothe your tense muscles. You don't play any music or hum anything. You’re barely thinking. Your only goal is to get in bed and pass out. And when you finish, that's exactly what you do. You snuggle into your covers and as soon as your head hits the pillow you're out.
Your eyelids slowly peel apart; heavy. Your entire body feels like a bag of rocks. You lie there, taking long, drawn-out blinks. There's a strange peacefulness in the air. None of the usual worry that fills your head, no noise besides your soft breaths, and the sweet song of the birds outside. You prop yourself up, reaching out to your bedside table to grab your phone. With a click your phone turns on, the sudden light blinds you. Blinking away the blurriness, your eyes begin to focus on the big white numbers: 11:25
You stumble out of the comfort of your bed. You have five minutes to get ready and head out the door. Running to your dresser, you pull out some clothes to wear. How you manage the sleep through your numerous alarms was beyond you, but nevertheless that didn't turn back time. You shuffle into your bra, throw the shirt over your head, and jump into a pair of pants. You're able to get the important parts of your morning routine done. Besides a few things like washing your face and properly brushing your hair. Giving yourself a once-over, you decide you don't look too bad. Just a little lazier than normal but casual enough. Sighing, you depart to class.
Standing in front of the door, you take a deep breath, straighten your back. You can already see his face, his mouth pressed into a hard line. A flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You knock on the door, and wait for it to open. When you hear a soft click, you push the door open, hurrying to your seat. When you sit down, you glance at him and he's already looking at you. Face devoid of any signs of what he's feeling. You pluck the needed supplies out of your bag, and he continues the lesson.
The class goes excruciatingly slow. Focusing seems near impossible, so you resort to scribbling down anything you deem important without actually listening to what he's saying. Which you can only hope doesn't bite you in the ass too much in the future. The class comes to a close, and before you can even think about leaving he's calling your name. You wince, forcing yourself to walk to his desk. He's definitely gonna tear a chunk out of you.
“Sir?” You mutter, ashamed.
“You were late,” he states, plain and simple. His words linger heavily in the air.
“I, um, slept in. I apologize, it was a mistake on my part.” You sputter, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. He lifted his head, eyes piercing into you. Your mouth squeezes shut.
“you slept in,” he echoes, empty. With a stern tone, he adds, “Excuses will not be tolerated, especially after I gave an explicit warning to get yourself together.”
You feel queasy, like your stomach rolling in on itself. You don't know what to say. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, rattles your ribcage, reverberating through your entire body. You don't know what to do that doesn't make you seem more of a fool than you already are. So you say the only thing that's worked for you so far.
“I know, sir. I am truly sorry.”
“Indeed you are,” he purrs as inches closer to you, fingertips dragging against his desk. His intense eye contact frightens you, makes you feel like he'd put a giant red target on you: open prey. A strange, uncomfortable heat flushing your body, feels akin to little fires starting from the tips of your fingers. He stops in front of you, closer than you would deem comfortable, but you couldn't move— something willing you to stay right where you are. A need.
You feel trapped, or rather, you're paralyzed. Even though there's nothing constraining you, and all you have to do is walk out the room. You can't move; his eyes immobilize you, demanding that you stay. Reluctantly, you obey. He settles a hand on your shoulder, “yet, you're not sorry enough to listen.” Before you can defend yourself, his hand slowly starts traveling up, gently wrapping around your neck. You notice, but oddly enough, you choose not to question it. “So, I must ask, what's distracting you? And there's no need for any falsities, my dear.”
You freeze, eyes wide. Dumb and glassy, fawn-like. “it’s- it's really not important, and I promise that I'll straighten out my behavior. It's been a rough week.” you murmur, the tips of your ears burning.
He frowns, hand flexing around your neck. You don't know if it was intentional, but it gets his point across all the same. “Like I said, there's no reason for further deception.”
Sucking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, you mentally agree he's right and getting it off your chest could probably do you some good. “It's you. You're my problem– or my distraction, in your words.”
He doesn't look fazed. In fact, he looks like he knew before you even opened your mouth. He looked like he could tell you every thought you had verbatim. After a moment of silence, he inquires, “how long?”
Innocuous, but still you shy away from him. Your mouth squeezes shut, and your head is about to turn to the side, but he's capturing your face in his hand— forcing you to look at him. His grip is firm, nails lightly digging into the fat of your cheeks.
“since the, um, first day” you murmur, skittish.
He gives a slight nod. He knew you were attracted to him, but he had ignored it. Flicking off your open desire as a fleeting crush. That, like the other girls, you'd move on. Unfortunately for the two of you, you never did. But day after day of seeing the desperation mixed with adoration swirling around in your big, bright doe eyes, even though he would never speak it aloud, stirred something in him. And now, you’re in front of him with your heart in your hands. that pathetic, helpless look on your pretty face. it set something off within him, a spark of heat he couldn't ignore.
“Is that so…” he responds, casually. Offhandedly, even. He’s pensive, looking at you with a blank face. He’s always withdrawn, always hard to read. You never can guess what's going on in that head of his, and that was something you admired. But right now, you wished you could crack open his skull and hear his thoughts for yourself.
The tension is tangible, turning the air thick. You wish he would do anything to rid you of this horrible ache in your chest. Shoo away the sinking pit in your stomach that grows the more his silence drags on.
“Do something,” you whisper. You don't know what to expect. You can't begin to predict what he'll do with your confession, but you figure he'll send you off with a broken heart and your tail tucked between your legs.
His face scrunched up, and then it straightened out. turning eerily calm with a strange sense of resolve. unceremoniously, his mouth crashes into yours. hungry and ravenous. For a second, you didn't reciprocate. you were stupefied by his forwardness. you had expected many things but not a kiss. After gaining your bearings, you carefully carefully began to kiss back, following the pace he had set. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. you whimper, and he lets out a low groan, lapping away the metallic liquid.
your heart hammered in the confines of your chest. you were high off the taste of him. a mixture of mint and nicotine. you wanted more, you wanted everything he was willing to dish out. your hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. it was so surreal— his warmth, his scent, his lips on yours. it was something you couldn't let fall through your fingers. Then without pulling away, he’s spinning you around, backing you up until you're perched on the edge of his desk.
Your mind is misty. your vision blurs at the edges like a gossamer film is covering it. If it's from the lack of oxygen, or how incredibly unreal the situation is still impossible to ascertain. He pulls away to attach himself to your neck, leaving feverish open mouth kisses on your neck. You can feel him inhaling against your skin, breathing you in. Without warning, he digs his teeth into the thin skin between the junction of your neck and shoulder.
He laves his tongue over the indents left behind, and you take it as a silent apology. James squeezes your thigh, massaging it. You’re soft to the touch, pliant. Almost pillowy. His hand snakes down, down, down. Slipping into your pants, past the band of your panties. His fingers brush against your sensitive clit, and you spread your legs further to give him more room. You're leaking over the pads of his fingers, and he dips lower, collecting it. He smears your wetness on your aching bud in tight, deliberate circles. You let out soft pants, rolling your hips against him, desperate for more contact.
“More,” you whine. A small pout tugging at your plump lips.
“you want more, hm? Such a greedy little thing you are,” he croons, giving your clit a mean pinch. It yanks a squeal out of you. The melange of pain and pleasure confuses you, entices you. You give him a meek nod tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. He plunges two fingers in your needy cunt, and your back curves. He hums, pumping his fingers into you with a steady pace. He rolls your aching nub beneath his thumb. It's methodical, automatic. Downright robotic the way he splits you apart on his nimble fingers. He touches you like he's known you for an entire lifetime, strumming your chords like he knows exactly what to do to make you cry out.
His fingers are long, slender, and so, so pretty. And god does he know how to use them. With pinpoint precision, he's curling his fingers inside of you, pressing that spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into your skull. You're gushing around him, and the squelch of it is obscene. It's embarrassing how you fall apart merely from his deft fingers. Nonsensical babbles fall from your mouth, too high off pleasure to make sense, but he doesn't seem to mind. Soon, a coil begins to tighten in your groin. A buzzing heat in your lower region. It's undeniable, inescapable.
“M gonna cum, don't stop– please, please, please.” You babble, your fingers gripping for purchase on his desk.
Frissions of pleasure shoot through your body like lightning. Your mouth falls agape, and you tilt your head back. The coil snaps, and you quickly begin to unravel around his fingers. He eases you through it, doesn't stop until you've stopped trembling, and then he's sliding you off the desk. He turns you around, and places a sizable hand on your back, bending you over the table. He hastily tugs your pants down, leaving them bunched up at your mid-thigh.
You feel the tip of his cock probe your entrance. Nervous, you press your warm face against the varnished wood, letting a wave of relief wash over you from its coldness. He doesn't give you time to prepare before he's bottoming out. The stretch burns, a dull incessant ache. You don't realize you're gritting your teeth until the feeling ebbs and shifts into velvety pleasure. To your surprise, his thrusts are a measured pace, rhythmic. Maybe he was taking mercy on you, but he quickly loses the pace for something rougher. Fast and hard, thrusts that jolt you forward, edge of the desk biting into your hips.
“is this what you wanted? to be bent over my desk like the needy little harlot you are.” you let out a high pitched whine at that, cunt fluttering around his cock. he was so crude, so incredibly mean, but he was right. he's so right that it's embarrassing.
you feel a vascular hand wrap around your neck, tugging you into an arch. “say it, tell me this is what you wanted,” he grunts, hips snapping hard against yours, it was downright painful.
“this is what I wanted,” you cry out, nodding your head. “good girl,” he utters, his tone ominously dark. it sent chills racing down your spine. his other hand wraps around your neck, and he begins to squeeze. at first, it's harmless, it's not tight enough to do damage, just applying pressure. it wasn't until he didn't stop squeezing that you started to panic. eyes going wide and glassy, your hands tried to peel his hands away to no avail. so you tried to scratch at them, in hopes that he'd finally pull away. but he didn't budge. your lungs were starting to burn, your thoughts getting increasingly fuzzy.
despite all of this, he didn't stop his ruthless thrusting. your cunt clamped down on his cock, squeezing him for all that he's worth. your vision starts to blur, everything begins melting together. your hands drop back down to the desk, and you can feel yourself going limp in his hold. you couldn't tell if you were simply going to pass out, or if you close your eyes you're going to die, but you didn't want to find out.
a dribble of drool slinks down your chin. your head is throbbing. there's a dull ringing in your ears, and it's becoming harder to keep yourself awake or alive. feeling your eyes closing on their own, you felt stinging tears rushing down your cheeks. then, you felt it, a sudden warmth in your lower region. that familiar ache in your womb. a few more harsh thrusts, and you were leaking all over his cock. he followed suit, thick ropes of cum fill you up soon after. thankfully, he let go. you thought he was going to kill you for a second.
gasping, you lurched forward, letting yourself rest on the desk. your head was spinning and your legs felt like jello. you didn't speak, just laid there. It takes you a minute to collect yourself. Especially after fearing for your life. You were pretty sure he was going to kill you. He pulls out of your wordlessly, slipping his cock back in his pants. Once you convince yourself that you're okay, you pull up your pants. The feeling of his cum gushing out of you is kinda gross but you can deal. You're going straight home anyway so you can wash it off when you get there.
He doesn't say anything until you're walking away, "I hope to see you again tomorrow. We still have much to improve after class."
The implications are enough to have you red-faced and very excited for the day to come. You don't know why you're still fooling around with him. Despite the fact that he may be dangerous. It entices you further like the dumb little girl you are. So, like an idiot, you give a coy smile over your shoulder, "yes, Mr. March. I'll be there."
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onmyyan · 11 hours
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Ain't no sunshine chapter 3
A/n: canon typical violence someone gets stabbed (not you) feedback is always welcome
The clock ticks in an uncomfortable rhythm, almost pounding in your ears, you swallow around nothing and try to take a deep breath, only a few more minutes now.
Sitting cross cross felt childish but you needed the comfort of being low to the ground, before you stood a proud grandfather clock, the thing always intimidated you for some reason, maybe it's because you could smell how expensive it was, how priceless, but it was the only room in the house you could guarantee would be free of any nuisances, aka your estranged family.
A lone little Debbie cupcake in hand, a candle in another, you stick the candle inside the soft flesh of the treat, lighting it with the silver zippo, the seconds begin to count down as the wax melts, today was your eighteenth birthday, and the day you'd find true freedom. A day you'd been waiting for since you'd decided to wash your hands of the Wayne's and all who associated with them.
Bruce had begun to add to his collection of broken people one by one a new face was added to the house, and one by one you were met with the same cold indifference.
Barbara Gordon came into your life warmly, on the arm of Dick, she was kind to you in the beginning, making a point to ask you questions and listening intently when you answered, immediately you admired the older woman, her charming grin and bright demeanor was like a light inside the house, until she became who you eventually discovered was Oracle, tied up in the world of heroes and monsters, she too joined the club of exclusion, unintentionally forgetting plans the two of you had made more often than not, sharing inside jokes with Dick about last night's patrol or even taking on a mentor role for Damian, each action like a stab to the heart.
The last straw felt like the smallest one. And it came in the form of Cassandra Cain.
The girl came to the family under reasons you couldn't know, but she was troubled, you could see the same look in her eyes you had when you looked in the mirror as a child, she didn't outright reject your friendship like Damian, but she was seemingly as disinterested in you as the rest of your family, the real kick to your heart came when you walked past a moment shared between her and Bruce, he was comforting her, you couldn't hear the words spoken but you could feel the love pouring from Bruce, how he had a gentle hand on her shoulder, showing her a kind of love he'd never once shown you.
It wasn't her fault and you held no grudge against her, but it still felt like a slap to the face, and every time you saw her, every time she followed them down to their little hiding spot, the acid-like sting deep in your chest got worse. It was then you made a promise to yourself, you'd stop trying, no more reaching out to Dick or praying Jason would message you back, no more begging for Tim's attention or Damian's respect, and you were sure as shit done asking Bruce to love you.
You're brought back to the present moment by the loud ring of the clock before you, the echoing sound brought a ear splitting grin to your face, finally, you were done.
Blowing out the candle, you toss it on the floor, standing with a pep in your step. You'd had your bags moved out days ago so the only thing left was to leave. A chatter could be heard the closer you got to the front door, male and female voices happily spoke with one another, but you were so unfazed, too excited about your current plans to care they'd gathered without you on your birthday.
"Oh hey (Y/n)" Dick says after spotting your form in the doorway, see the only reason you were here is because the dining room lead to the front door, and your new found freedom.
You nod at him, taking in the sight of popcorn and half empty pizza boxes, a movie projected on the wall, ah so they decided to have a little get together?
None of your concern.
"Sorry we didn't call you down, didn't realize you were home" Dick says a look of pity in his eyes, "do you want some?" It's almost said with a wince.
"Nah." Was your simple response, and with that you walked out of their door and lives.
You'd bought an apartment with your own money, you'd been working since you were fourteen, saving every penny for this moment exactly. It was in a shit part of town with an even shitter interior but it was yours and you loved it. Water dripped into a mostly full bucket in the corner, the lights took a full forty seconds to turn on and it reeked of old cigarettes.
Yet you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.
Feeling that euphoric rush had you buzzing all night, besides the bed in your room was, questionable to say the least, so you decided to stay up. Cleaning what you could with what you had made you feel even better, this terrible little space was all yours, no condescending people or assholes in sight.
Feeling hungry, you throw on a black puffer coat and a matching beanie and start to brave the Gotham cold. Each step is taken with a new gratitude, the farther you get from that family the better you feel.
Your happiness is pulled to a grinding halt by the sound of rapid footsteps behind you, without thinking you turn, fist balled tightly in perfect form, Patty would be proud if she saw the way you decked the bastard running up on you.
You nailed him right in the throat sending him to his knees, his knife cluttering to the ground before your feet, grabbing the weapon you point it down at his choking body, your hands still despite your rapid heartbeat. The wheezing man made a swipe at your ankles causing you to bring the knife down right into his shoulder, a scream rips though his throat, the adrenaline in your body has you running on autopilot.
Kicking him in the side of the head to quickly sprint to the corner store where you'd planned on going in the first place, your hands shake as you grab your food, but again, that smile stays on your face.
Not only had you moved out today, you'd proved to yourself you didn't need them for anything, not protection, not validation, nothing, it was like you could breathe again.
The next few weeks are business as usual at the manor, until Barbara looks at the calendar and realizes she'd, along with everyone, had forgotten your birthday. The guilt ate at her until she made her way to your room knocking softly, a cupcake in hand she called out, "(Y/n)? Listen I'm so sorry about your birthday, I got my dates mixed up." The lie came easy, but no response was heard, "I get if you're completely pissed at me, at us but-"
"Miss (L/n) has moved out."
"what? How is that possible we would have noticed her moving out." As if to prove Alfred wrong Barbara opens your door, only to find a barren room, empty of any signs of life. She turns to the older man, a thousand questions burning on her tongue, but he seemed to read her, "you'd be surprised what goes unnoticed in this house miss Gordon, have a good afternoon." He leaves her with this and it only makes the guilt and confusion worse.
She pulls out her phone scrolling to a number she hadn't used in a while, biting her thumb as it rings she's hoping you clear all her confusion when you answered, but you don't, instead an automated message tells her your phone has been disconnected. Now she begins to worry, you were so young, just barely an adult, the idea of you out on your own in Gotham had her heart sinking, clicking the family group chat she sends a message that will change everything.
"We need to talk about (Y/n)."
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davidtennan-t · 3 days
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The Birthday Gifts
Rose has a very special gift idea for her Mum's Birthday, but to get it, she's going to need the help of her Uncle.
Words: 5947
If you crave some Fourteen and Rose shenanigans but also lots of Fourteen and Donna angst then look no further than this fic, it’s got it all! Dedicated to my bestie @kottekonst ❤️ Also available on AO3
-
Today was Donna’s 53rd birthday.
The Temple-Noble residence was, therefore, rather busy for a Friday evening. The gathering was shaping up to be moderate – Donna never liked a huge fuss, but plenty of people were soon to be mingling in the large backyard, under a hired tent and the setting sunlight.
Rose had already secured her mother a gift. A bracelet, along with one of her very own handcrafted plushies. It was something of a birthday tradition and Rose was happy with her chosen little critter.
Except, she wasn’t, deep down.
There had been a niggling idea in Rose’s mind for weeks, now, and despite her best efforts to shove the idea aside and be happy with the sparkling bracelet wrapped in a gift box under her bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to do more for her Mum. A true show of appreciation that could speak louder than any words could, without making it too… cringe.
There was a gift much more special and personal out there in the world. All day at school, her thoughts had never been far from this gift… it couldn’t be bought, nor could it be found in any shop.
It also wasn’t the correct year.
It was why collecting this gift had at first seemed impossible to Rose. How could she ever fly herself a whole year into the past?
Most people didn’t have an uncle who could navigate time and space, however.
He was retired, of course, supposed to be resting – and he did, mostly. But nobody enjoyed bending the rules of retirement more so than the Time Lord who was supposed to be doing it.
Especially when it came to his niece.
“So, are you in?”
Sat in the living room away from the hustle and bustle in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea made by none other than the teenage girl perched across from him, the Doctor raised an eyebrow.
“I can see why you made me the tea, now,” the Doctor regretfully replied, having listened intently to Rose’s idea for the past five minutes.
It had been a particularly strange day, on his part. Social gatherings and parties were so very domestic and human, but he was very much part of the family now. He’d helped Shaun set up the tent, fixed the broken stereo system and even dabbled in blowing up balloons under the watchful eye of Sylvia.
Anything for his Donna.
He’d finished the balloons which were all scattered around him and he'd wandered into the kitchen to make a well-earned cup of tea, when Rose had offered to make him one. Alarm bells should have rung right there and then.
“Come on, I know it will mean so much to Mum – I really want to try and make her happy,” Rose encouraged, sat on the edge of the sofa practically shaking with anticipation.
“You do make her happy, every day,” the Doctor reminded her. He never would have thought he’d be the one trying to discourage sneaking away on a quick trip.
Five months ago, they would have been in the TARDIS already.
This was different, however.
“Not like this, though… please? People will start arriving in a couple of hours and by that point it will be too late. I know the exact day, time, and everything… June 6th, 2023, it will only take two seconds, I promise.”
The Doctor glanced behind his shoulder to make sure nobody was eavesdropping.
"Couldn't we go tomorrow?" the Doctor asked.
"We could, but it wouldn't be the same. Today is her birthday and it just feels... right."
“That's fair, but it could be dangerous... you do understand the risks of bumping into your past self? It would create a paradox that would-”
“-devastate reality around me, I know,” Rose whined, but she grew more serious when she saw the look on the Doctor’s face. “I won’t bump into myself, or Mum… I know exactly when and where to go.”
Delicately deciding if he could truly trust his niece, which he would any day, the Doctor thought of a further barrier. A barrier related to the here and now. “Let’s say, hypothetically, I agreed to take you… how would we get to the TARDIS?” the Doctor asked.
The kitchen they would need to walk through to get to his beloved ship, sat on her perch surrounded by flowers, was currently occupied by Donna and Sylvia, sorting through the mountain of buffet food.
Rose frowned. “I should be able to walk into the garden no problem, but if we both walked through then-”
“-Donna would immediately know what we were up to,” the Doctor finished, looking thoughtful as he took another mouthful of tea and pondered their options. “Listen, I think it’s all a bit too risky. Even if we somehow managed to get past her, it’s her birthday, and she told me specifically the TARDIS was out of bounds today – unless there was an emergency.”
“She always says that, though - and this… sort of…is an emergency?” Rose tried to plea, flexing her hands with a strained smile.
The Doctor placed his now empty mug on the coffee table and turned to Rose, his expression solemn, and one that clearly meant no.
“I’m sorry, Rose. I won’t risk you getting into trouble.”
Definitely a no.
Rose sighed. Then, she curved her mouth downwards, stuck out her bottom lip, and glared straight at the Doctor.
“What are you doing?” he questioned, even though he knew exactly what she was doing.
Rose didn’t reply. She sighed again, for the dramatic effect.
“Now listen, I told you, it’s too risky,” he replied airily.
The pout didn’t faulter.
“That won’t work on me, y’know, so you might as well stop now.”
Still, the pout remained.
The Doctor’s nose twitched. He patted his knees a couple of times, trying his hardest to focus on something else to ignore Rose’s silent plea – didn’t Donna ask him to help with the sandwiches? Oh! There was a gift for Donna he needed to wrap upstairs, wasn’t there?
Gift… he hadn’t even asked Rose what her particularly special gift was. Was it something Donna had lost? It dangerously fuelled his curiosity, and he risked a glance over at the teenager again, who was still pouting in his direction.
The Doctor's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, now rocking gently back and forth as he tried to resist the temptation, but it grew harder as each second ticked by.
"Please, Uncle Spaceman?" Rose said quietly.
"Oh no, don't do that... this isn't... I-I can't..." he stuttered, yielding no result.
How could he say no to her? Clearly, the gift was something really special if her persistence was anything to go by. Something more than a simple gift... it seemed so very special. If it would make Donna happy, then what did he have to lose? Rose would be careful, like she always was. She always listened to him, never wandered off.
The Doctor's entire posture suddenly sagged, and his eyes closed.
There was nobody who could pull his leg like his niece.
Rose stopped pouting, holding her breath with a trepid tilt of the head.
After a moment of defeated silence, the Doctor reopened his eyes and finally spoke. “Fine, I’ll take you,” he said, ignoring the glee of excitement out of the corner of his eye, “but we’re both taking the blame this time, you hear?” he added with a point of his finger, even if he would be the first to defend her if it came down to it.
“Deal,” Rose replied quickly, still engrossed in her victory, but relieved and elated she was getting the chance to go through with her plan. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see the look on her Mum’s face.
A smirk crossed the Doctor’s lips, unintentionally feeling very proud of Rose’s persistence. Would he regret this all later? Probably. Would it help knowing Rose was happy? Absolutely.
“You’ve turned me into a soft touch,” the Doctor mumbled as he stood from the sofa, stretching out his back to release the knots from his period of sitting.
“You’ve always been a soft touch,” Rose replied with a smirk.
“Oi - don’t push it. I might be somewhat retired but I'm still the Lord of Time,” the Doctor jibbed back, “but if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me, no matter how much it will sting when we get back.”
Rose chuckled. “So, wait… we’re banned from going into the TARDIS, our route to said TARDIS is blocked but I can go out into the garden without raising suspicion… how are you going to get to the TARDIS without going through Mum? Last time we snuck away only Great-Grandad was home, and he never tells on us anyway,” she pondered, “we’ll both have to go through the kitchen one way or another.”
There was no direct access to the back garden other than through the kitchen, nor was there any way to reach the blue box by leaving the house through the front door. There was, however, a little secret the Doctor had kept to himself, in case of emergency.
“Oh, don’t you worry yourself. You’re looking at the man who snuck out of the biggest high-security prison in the Silfrax Galaxy – twice. In one week.”
Rose looked fairly impressed, but the Doctor found it was getting harder and harder to impress the teenager as time went on. There was only so many times he could tell a story about escaping a fleet of Daleks before it grew a little repetitive.
“Tough crowd,” the Doctor uttered, straightening his tartan waistcoat with a sniff, “I’ll use the cellar window, easily done.”
“Wait, you use the cellar window to escape!?” Rose gawped.
“Rose Temple-Noble, how dare you insinuate such a thing. I used it once a couple of weeks after I arrived to get away from Sylvia and her book club,” the Doctor explained, “I do love my dear old mother-in-law, but there’s only so much you can take of them misquoting Charles Dickens. I did offer to take her and the other members to meet him, but she refused… so, I snuck out the window to go for a walk, instead. Haven’t used it since.”
This time, Rose did look impressed.
“Right then… meet you by the TARDIS in three minutes?”
-
Once Rose strolled calmly into the kitchen, complimented her Gran on the very well-presented quiche and offered to help her Mum with the sandwiches – which she knew would be met with a no since nobody could ever tamper with her mother’s sandwiches – she expertly explained she was going to lock up her crafting shed and wouldn’t be too long.
Neither Donna nor Sylvia noticed the Time Lord slipping through the cellar door in the hallway.
“Don’t close those patio doors or we’ll lose the breeze!” Sylvia reminded her granddaughter, who smiled and nodded, trying to edge her way towards the open doors. Donna, who’s hair was wrapped in curlers, suddenly looked a little curious as she added more egg to a tray of sandwiches.
“Where’s your uncle, anyway? He said he was finishing up those balloons an hour ago and that was the last I saw him,” Donna asked.
“Oh, he’s just… he’s just, tinkering! Yeah, tinkering… with the balloons. Balloon tinkering,” Rose replied, much less convincingly than she would have liked. It was a miracle her mother bought it.
“Fair enough – remember, no sneaking off in that blue box, the pair of you. It’s my birthday, I don’t want Sontarans storming the garden, or Ood showing up to cater for the party,” Donna warned, pointing a fork in Rose’s direction, but it was with a motherly smile.
Rose nodded, despite the sudden urge to stop what she was doing and listen to her Mum. Yes, this would make her mad… but it would be so incredibly worth it. “Yes, I know… I’ll be back soon.”
Instead of turning left to go to her crafting shed, Rose made sure neither Donna or Sylvia were looking before she quickly ducked right, under the kitchen window and sneaking around the bushes. Once in the clear, Rose quickly raced over to the blue box basking in the late-afternoon sunshine with a victorious shine in her eyes, the rest of the garden empty.
The Doctor was nowhere to be seen, so Rose leaned against the TARDIS and decided to wait for her uncle to appear.
Rose waited.
And waited.
Then, just to fuel her nerves even further, she waited some more.
Worryingly tapping her foot, the anxious teenager tried to peak around the greenery and flowers. The cellar window was positioned in a clearing surrounded by the bushes her Great-Grandfather loved to take care of, with stone steps leading down to some tables and chairs. There was no sign of her uncle emerging from that clearing.
“Come on, Mum’s going to catch us,” Rose uttered under her breath with a trepid glance at the open patio doors.
“Pst – Rose!”
An urgent, quiet whisper from behind the bushes. Rose perked up at the sound of the Doctors voice.
“What is it?!” Rose replied in a hushed whisper.
“Come here!” came the reply.
“Why?”
“Just come here!”
Rolling her eyes with a frustrated sigh, Rose carefully made her way towards the clearing of bushes, sneaking down the steps while shooting worried stares at the doors. At least the bushes would keep them hidden while in that area – for now.
“Doctor, we need to go, before Mum see-”
Rose was suddenly face to face with the Doctor – or rather, face to face with half of him. He was poking out from the cellar window, evidently agitated with his hands pressed against the wall, his face contorted into a grimace.
“What the hell are you doing?!” she asked.
The Doctor stopped his pushing and glanced up at his niece.
“What does it look like I’m doing?!”
“Oi, don’t get snappy with me, Mum won't like that,” Rose replied, folding her arms while glancing to make sure Donna hadn’t spotted them.
“Well I don't think she'll like any of this if she finds out what we’re doing – now help get me out of here!” the Doctor reiterated, his strained noises making the already anxious teenager even more nervous.
“Just… I dunno, shimmy your through?” Rose replied, somewhat confused.
“Shimmy!? Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” the Doctor replied in another snap, still struggling with the window to prove his point, “See? I can’t!”
“Well, why not?”
The Doctor’s expression fell into a serious but embarrassed glare. He stopped his efforts with a sigh, his diverted gaze looking everywhere but Rose.
“I can’t move,” he replied, in the quietest, most meek tone, like he’d just been caught by Donna with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Say again?” Rose asked.
“I can’t move,” the Doctor repeated. Still far too quiet for Rose to hear.
“Louder for the people in the back, please?” Rose retorted exasperatedly, putting a hand to her ear – completely forgetting they were supposed to be escaping silently.
“I can’t move!” the Doctor finally exclaimed - much too loud, as footsteps suddenly echoed just inside the patio doors. Rose gasped and quickly ducked down beside the Doctor, who grew as stiff as a board.
Donna’s mop of pinned-up ginger hair was visible even through the leaves and blossoming flowers as her head poked out into the garden.
Rose held her breath. The Doctor held his breath, his slightly shaking frame making the spikes of his hair tremble.
“Strange, thought I heard a noise,” Donna shrugged, and with that, she turned away and was gone.
After the pair released their held in breaths, Rose turned her attention back to the Doctor, who was now gritting his teeth.
“Are you saying you’re stuck?” Rose whispered, glancing at the cellar window. Now she was closer, it did look rather tight, with the Time Lord squeezed into it uncomfortably – it was a small window, just big enough for a skinny alien to navigate. Or rather, had been big enough. “How can you be stuck?”
“Keep your voice down!” the Doctor quipped, eyebrows tensed as he glared at his niece, who shot him a very disapproving look.
“Oi! I am! It’s you that’s stressing!” Rose replied while waving her hands at him, “I thought you said you’d used this window before?”
“Yeah, well, that was a five months ago,” the Doctor replied, attempting to tug himself forwards again, but with no result, “clearly, I’ve been enjoying retirement a little too much,” he added through clenched teeth.
Rose watched as he tugged again, realising what her uncle meant – he strained, seemingly slipping through, but at such a slow pace they’d be there for all the party guests to see if he didn’t hurry.
“Come on, you can do it,” Rose encouraged.
It was no wonder his suits had been feeling slightly tighter recently. Five months of ‘three meals a day, Spaceman’ and ‘look, here’s a packet of your favourite biscuits’... and how could he forget lovely little old Mrs Fredrick from next door who always popped around with the odd pie or batch of brownies?
Another few precious seconds ticked by, and the Doctor eventually slumped in defeat, out of breath and still very much caught in the window.
“This is not good,” he admitted, “well, worse than not good, actually… very bad, more like.”
“Okay, okay, chill, we can fix this,” Rose tried to reassure him despite her growing concern. “You just need to twist around a little bit, shift your weight, I’m sure you’ll pop right out.”
The Doctor tried that. A little more progress… which only resulted in more tightness. Eventually, he stopped again, long fingers clutching the soft grass as he tried to catch his breath.
By now, guilt was starting to bubble into Rose’s chest – she’d caused this. If they were caught now, she dreaded to think what her mother would say.
“Listen, let’s just call this whole thing off, I’m not having you hurt yourself because I wanted to-” Rose began, but the Doctor quickly cut her off.
“There is absolutely no way we’re giving up now – just because I’m having a little bit of trouble with this window, does not equal defeat, right?” the Doctor said and he gave Rose his most reassuring smile, despite his predicament.
Rose instantly felt more at ease and she smiled back.
“A little bit of trouble?” Rose questioned, finding humour among the urgency, but also incredibly grateful to the Doctor for not giving in so easily.
“Hey - you try saying no to lovely old Mrs Fredrick when she’s stood at the front door holding an apple pie that she made ‘just for you’,” the Doctor retorted.
It was true… Rose wondered how anyone could say no to that sweet old lady when she stood in her little flowery oven mitts with her baked goods.
“Okay, don't worry, we can do this – I have an idea,” Rose confidently told the Doctor and determinedly got to her feet, holding out both her hands after sparing a glance to the patio doors to check for any sign of her mother. “Give me your hands.”
The Doctor, who admittedly was extremely eager to be free from the window to continue helping his niece, didn’t hesitate to reach up to grasp her outstretched hands. It was an awkward position for his long, thin body, but this was their last chance.
“If your Mum saw this I think she’d laugh rather than get mad,” the Doctor commented.
“Let’s not test the waters – ready?”
And with that, Rose leaned back and began pulling.
They were both quietly delighted when the Doctor began to move immediately, quicker than his lone efforts, but it was still precariously tight for the poor Time Lord.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the patio door.
As if playing musical statues, Rose and the Doctor froze with their hands still clutched together, the Doctor awkwardly stretched with Rose leaning back on her feet, her curly hair swaying in the light breeze.
Donna appeared again and she held out a hand, evaluating the settling beams of the sun.
“Still warm out, Mum - fancy finishing those cocktails in the fridge before we start decorating? I’ll go grab some ice from the cellar, we’ve ran out up here. And I need to find Spaceman, wherever he is, I need help with the rest of these sandwiches,” Donna said as she pulled back her hand from the sun beam she’d been testing and strolled inside.
Rose was sure she’d never seen such panic overtake anyone’s expression as quickly as it overcame the Doctors.
“Rose Temple-Noble, get me out of this window, now.”
“On it.”
Rose resumed her efforts with an added franticness, while the Doctor tried to wriggle the rest of his trapped waist through the window.
After a tense few seconds, he eventually slid through, and Rose gently placed his hands down onto the grass. He was clearly winded from the effort and his arms shook as he tried to lift himself up.
“OI!”
Donna had been expecting to go to the spare freezer for the ice without a care in the world – oh, she loved those cocktails from Lidl.
What she hadn’t been expecting was the sight of her best friend’s lanky legs dangling inside the cellar window.
“What the hell is going on?!” She yelled as she began to march down the old wooden stairs, completely bewildered at the sight.
Outside, Rose practically flung herself at her uncle, helping to heave his exhausted form forwards enough to get him moving. They were both in fight or flight and, in that moment, they both chose flight - no matter the consequences.
Inside, Donna was fast approaching the flailing tartan legs.
“Get your skinny backside back in this house!”
“Come on, come on!” Rose urged the Doctor.
“Is that you Rose? Oh, just you both wait until I-”
Donna reached out to grab one of the disappearing Converse but missed by a mere centimetre as the Doctor’s shoes finally disappeared through the window.
In the time it took her to recover from the near miss and look through the glass, she saw the retreating figures of the Doctor and Rose running through the bushes.
And by the time she’d raced back upstairs and past a very confused Sylvia holding a tray of slightly overcooked sausage rolls, Donna knew it was much too late.
-
“You have ten seconds to explain yourself – go.”
Stood before a very irritated Donna Noble in the back garden, the Doctor and Rose glanced at each other.
For Donna, it had only been two minutes since she’d discovered the Doctor’s dangling legs in the cellar. Two minutes had been enough for her to piece together a familiar puzzle, and so she'd angrily removed the curling blocks from her hair and stood in the back garden, waiting for the familiar whirrs of the TARDIS returning.
“Donna, we’ve only been gone for two minutes, and in my defence-” the Doctor began explaining but was quickly shushed by Donna.
“Not now, Spaceman – Rose, what do you have to say for yourself?”
The Doctor promptly closed his mouth and placed his hands behind his back.
Ah, family…
“Mum, I know this looks bad, but please, don’t be mad, I really wanted to-”
“To what? Fly off to some dangerous alien planet - nearly fall into a black hole? I told both of you I didn’t want anyone jaunting off on my birthday, and yet look where we are!” Donna stated, holding out her arms. Despite the anger she’d already prepared for, Rose stepped forwards with both hands secured behind her back, holding the very item she hoped would be able to save both herself and the Doctor from a grounding.
“Mum, please listen – this was all my idea, and no, we didn’t go flying off looking for trouble. I-… I wanted to get you something, for your birthday.”
Donna’s expression softened.
“Wait – you snuck off to get me a present?” Donna replied, not excusing it, but it was far from what she had expected to hear.
At Rose’s nod, Donna softened even more.
“Rose, darling, you know I’m always telling you not to make a fuss – the Doctor is supposed to be resting, not flying you around time and space to go shopping. This is the third time in two months you two have gone flying off together without me knowing… I don’t ground you both to be mean, I do it because I worry about you. Both of you.”
The Doctor looked a little meek as Donna shot him a glare to make sure he knew the impact of her words. He diverted his gaze downwards, as Rose took another defiant step forwards.
“But if I told you where we were going you would have said no, and it would have ruined the surprise, so…”
Donna’s hard stare returned, but she was no longer furious. “Maybe if you’d asked me first, I would have said yes, but instead, you had your uncle climbing through our cellar window? You both lied to me - on my birthday, no less.”
The Doctor didn’t just see but could physically sense the excitement dripping away from Rose’s posture and he couldn’t stay quiet any longer.
Domestics never used to be his thing. Once over, he would have run away and hid from a confrontation of this very nature. Now, it was time to defend his niece.
“Donna, it’s really not her fault – I agreed to do it, for her,” he explained, “and I really think you should look at what she’s gotten you.”
Donna sighed. Even she could see her daughter’s excitement dwindling… her kind, beautiful, wonderful daughter, no less.
“Okay, fine,” Donna gave in with a small smile, and Rose shot the Doctor a thankful smile before she revealed the object from behind her back, holding it out for her Mum to take.
This was it.
“Happy Birthday, Mum.” Rose smiled.
Donna reached out and gently took the gift from Rose.
It was a crumpled piece of paper.
“Oh… what’s this?” Donna questioned.
“Remember last year when we were walking through the park and you pulled out your purse, but it was really windy, and everything flew out? Receipts, money…” Rose trailed off.
It took a moment, but Donna soon recalled the event Rose described.
“Yeah, it was that cheap old purse from Primark, fell to bits, didn’t it… and I lost…”
This time, Donna’s voice trailed off. She immediately began to unfold the crumpled paper, which was dirty, but still intact. When the paper finally opened, Donna felt her throat begin to tighten, her eyes began to burn.
“You lost the last thing Grandad ever wrote down for you.”
Donna held the paper like it was made of crystal… like it was the most precious thing in the entire Universe.
On the paper, in Geoff’s handwriting, the words read:
You’ll do amazing things, my girl. Love, Dad.
“You never told me, but I knew after Dad said you’d lost it that day,” Rose explained, “I remember I watched it fly away into bush and I didn’t say anything, because I thought it was just a random bit of paper - not anything important. So, now you have it back.”
Donna sniffed, reaching up to wipe the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Never would she have thought she’d be holding this again.
“So… y-you went back in time to pick it up?” Donna asked, shakily.
Rose nodded.
“The Doctor took us to the exact day, a few minutes after we’d originally left the park. I was worried it might have blown away, but it was there, in that same bush. No trips to Mars, no sneaking off to the 1800’s, no-”
Rose was interrupted by her mother’s tight embrace.
“You don’t have to say anymore, sweetheart,” Donna said, still clutching the paper in her hand, “I forgive you for sneaking off. I’m so sorry for being so mad,” Donna apologised, holding onto her daughters curls tightly. "Thank you so much."
Rose lifted her arms and hugged her Mum back, smiling with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.
“Go and show your Gran, she’ll be just as surprised as me,” Donna suggested, pulling back from the hug to cup her daughters face. “And I mean it this time when I say no more sneaking away. This-” she placed the paper into Rose’s hand, “was more than I ever could have asked for.”
Before Rose even considered making her way back to the house, she turned to run up to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around him tightly. The Time Lord, having stood in absolute silence with a slight wetness in his eyes, quickly returned Rose’s embrace.
“Thank you,” Rose said.
The Doctor didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled back and gave her a wink. A wink that said everything he needed it to.
The garden was silent once more as Donna watched her daughter retreat into house, elated at the surprise gift and kindness of the gesture.
Suddenly, the silence was broken.
“Am I forgiven?”
Donna closed her eyes and shook her head – but the faintest of humorous smiles sat on her thinned lips.
“I’m still debating on that,” Donna stated, turning to face the Doctor, “you did promise me you wouldn’t fly off under any circumstances today.”
“Oh, come on,” The Doctor replied, “when she told me her idea, I couldn’t say no… it touched both my hearts, I’ll have you know. She’s as thoughtful and kind as her mother.”
“Oh no you don’t, Brainbox, flattery will get you nowhere,” Donna jibbed, but she was smiling as the Doctor approached.
“You know I don’t mind you taking her on the odd trip here and there, but when I said I worry, I mean it… if something happened to you while you were out, what would happen to Rose?”
“I wouldn’t let anything like that happen, Donna… HADS, remember?”
“Yeah, well, the HADS are one thing… but alien potatoes pointing rifles at my daughter would be another, just to name one example.”
“Again,” the Doctor said, “wouldn’t let it happen. I try not to go looking for trouble as much, these days.”
The look on Donna’s face grew sharper and he realised he couldn’t be so nonchalant.
“Okay… I’m sorry.”
Donna sighed. “I know you are,” she replied, nudging the Doctor in the side with her arm, “you just can’t resist that niece of yours, can you?”
Of course he couldn’t. She was his world now… they all were.
“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘p’.
Donna slinked an arm around the Doctor’s waist, and he in turn wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When Donna squeezed him however, he unintentionally winced and let go.
Surprised, Donna immediately loosened her own grip.
“Spaceman? You alright?”
The Doctor quickly recovered from the sudden stinging sensation and shook his head. “Oh… don’t worry, it’s nothing. Just a little strain from… well, never mind. Moving on - still need help with the sandwiches?”
“Strain from what?” Donna asked, concerned enough to ignore his attempt at diverting the conversation.
“Nothing, it’s honestly nothing, Donna, I promise,” the Doctor sniffed.
“Doctor, tell me,”
“It’s nothing!”
That clearly meant it was something.
“Wait a minute…” Donna declared, her concern losing its edge, but not entirely, “that’s right, I remember now - you were hanging halfway out of that cellar window when I caught you.”
The Doctor’s cheeks were suddenly the same shade as the pink flowers in the nearest plant pot. “You mean nearly caught me,” he corrected her, quietly.
Donna inhaled. "Okay, nearly caught you...any reason why?"
"No."
“Aw… did the retired Time Lord have a little trouble escaping through a window?”
“What? Nah…” the Doctor pied off, a little too quickly, “walk in the park, that was. Just a bit of an awkward angle. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Donna reached out and prodded the Doctor in the middle – where her finger would have once met complete flatness, it instead sunk into a small mound of softness which filled out the once loose shirt. When the Doctor instantly swatted her hand away with a grimace, she knew.
She knew her best friend, his expressions, his body language... that sadness lingering behind his eyes.
“Oh, Spaceman,” she sighed while gazing up into those round brown eyes. The Doctor noticed and raised his eyebrows.
“What?” he uttered.
Donna gently moved her hands to the front of the Doctor’s stomach, between his open waistcoat.
“What are you doing?” the Doctor asked, growing stiff again at the prospect of his sore skin being jabbed, but he was surprised to feel a gentle touch, Donna’s palms resting on his tiny belly.
“Nothing, just… I’ve noticed these past few weeks how much healthier you’re looking. More there.”
More there? The Doctor raised an eyebrow.
“But… I was there, here, wherever, before, wasn’t I?” the Doctor said in a high-pitched squeak.
“You were, but not like this,” Donna replied, thinking back to watching the two Doctors fighting for the fate of humanity with a ball – the new Doctor had exuded so much energy and youth… her Doctor, this Doctor, had looked pale, thin, exhausted. “I was so worried about you, all that time leading up to that bloody game of catch. You were burned out. Thin as a pin, remember?”
“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today,” the Doctor replied.
“Yeah well,” Donna began, “seeing you like this, with a bit of meat on your bones and your face looking less gaunt and sunken in… it’s on par with Rose’s surprise gift. I don’t want fancy watches or spa days for my birthday. I want my best friend to be healthy… that is such a wonderful gift. And I've never been happier to realise you had trouble squeezing out of a window.”
The Doctor was silent. Donna’s sincerity was finally beginning to sink in as he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when no words came out.
Yes, he had days he struggled… oh, sometimes he could scream and cry into any open abyss. Wounds would flare, his mind would play tricks on him, or he’d spot someone on the street resembling Amy, Clara, or Bill… and he’d want to run. This extra weight... he hadn't realised it, but the doubts had crept up.
But Donna. She kept him grounded. His family kept him grounded – and hearing such soft, sweet words made him feel better about ever getting caught in that bloody window.
“I only want what’s best for you, Spaceman… and this,” Donna said, rubbing her hand softly over the Doctors tighter shirt, “tells me we must be doing something right.”
Tears were blurring his vision now. His throat felt constricted, and his lower lip wobbled.
“You could never do wrong by me. Any of you,” he replied, in the quietest, most fragile whimper.
Donna always expected to have a little cry on her birthday, every year – but now, for the second time that afternoon, she wanted to cry again and let her tears build.
“Come here, you big old softie,” she said, moving her hands to pull the Doctor firmly into a hug. He chuckled through his own tears and fell into Donna’s arms, his head tucking against her shoulder – and she held him. Firmly but softly. Quietly, but with the odd sniff from both of them.
“And for the record, Spaceman – yes, I do forgive you.”
The Doctor’s wobbling lip crept into a smile.
"Happy birthday, Donna Noble."
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todorokis-girl · 3 days
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It's never too late for this - Tendo Satori x f!reader
Amidst the laughter and memories of a high school reunion, Y/N finds herself swept up in a whirlwind of emotions. A few glasses of wine blur the lines between friendship and unspoken desires, leading to an accidental confession to her long-time crush, Tendo Satori. Will this unexpected revelation bring them closer together or tear them apart? Follow their journey of love, friendship, and vulnerability in the charming backdrop of a French chocolatier's dreams
masterlist
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The air was thick with nostalgia and the scent of blooming flowers as Y/N walked into the restaurant. It had been two years since she'd last seen Tendo Satori, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She had spent those years supporting him from afar, as he followed his dreams of becoming a chocolatier in France. Now, as she walked into the reunion of their high school volleyball team, she felt a mixture of excitement and dread.
Y/N had always gone above and beyond for Satori when she was the team manager. She was there for every practice, every game, every celebration, and every heartbreak. She had supported his dreams after graduation, encouraging him to chase his passion. But she never told him how she truly felt, believing it was better to let him go without the burden of her unspoken feelings.
As she stepped inside, she saw him. Satori was surrounded by their former teammates, his distinctive red hair and infectious smile making him easy to spot. He looked different yet the same, more mature but with the same twinkle in his eyes. Y/N felt a pang of longing as she watched him laugh and joke with the others.
"Y/N!" A familiar voice broke through her reverie. It was Ushijima Wakatoshi, his deep voice as commanding as ever. "It's good to see you."
"You too, Ushijima," she replied with a smile. She greeted the rest of the team, exchanging hugs and catching up on their lives. But her eyes kept drifting back to Satori.
Finally, their eyes met. Tendo's face lit up with recognition, and he made his way over to her. "Y/N! It's been too long!"
"Hi, Ten," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "It really has."
They fell into an easy conversation, reminiscing about their high school days and sharing stories of their lives since then. Y/N felt a warmth in her chest, the same feeling she always had when she was with him. But there was also a sadness, knowing that she had never told him how she felt.
As the night wore on, the drinks flowed freely. Y/N found herself laughing more, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. The alcohol blurred the edges of her anxiety, and she let herself enjoy the moment.
At one point, she found herself sitting next to Tendo, a glass of wine in her hand. They were chatting about his life in France, the challenges and joys of being a chocolatier. Y/N listened intently, hanging on to his every word.
"I can't believe you did it," she said, her voice a little louder and looser than usual. "You really followed your dream."
Tendo smiled, his eyes twinkling. "It hasn't been easy, but it's been worth it. And I had a lot of support from friends like you."
Y/N's heart fluttered at his words. She took another sip of wine, feeling a warm flush spread through her. "I've always believed in you, Ten. Ever since high school."
He looked at her, his expression softening. "You were always there for me, Y/N. I don't think I ever thanked you properly for that."
She waved her hand dismissively, her movements exaggerated by the alcohol. "You don't have to thank me. I did it because I love you."
The words slipped out before she could stop them. She froze, realizing what she had just said. Tendo stared at her, his eyes wide with surprise.
"What did you say?" he asked, his voice quiet.
Y/N felt a surge of panic. She tried to backtrack, her cheeks burning. "I… I mean, I cared about you a lot," she stammered, avoiding his gaze. "You were important to me."
Satori's eyes never left her face. "Y/N, did you mean it? Do you love me?"
She looked down at her hands, her heart pounding in her chest. "I…" She hesitated, biting her lip. The alcohol had loosened her tongue, but now she felt exposed and vulnerable. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I was afraid to tell you because I didn't want to hold you back. You've always been so incredible, Satori, and I didn't want my feelings to be a burden."
There was a long silence. Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, afraid of what he might say next. She had imagined this moment so many times, but now that it was happening, she felt completely unprepared.
Tendo gently took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "Y/N," he said softly, "I had no idea. I wish you had told me sooner."
She looked up at him, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "I was so scared," she whispered. "Scared that you wouldn't feel the same, that it would ruin everything between us."
He pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted you to feel like that. But I'm here now, and I want to be here for you."
She clung to him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "What does this mean, Tendo? For us?"
He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. "It means we have a lot to talk about. But for now, just know that I care about you deeply. We’ll figure it out together."
As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N felt a sense of relief and hope. The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in two years, she felt a glimmer of happiness. She had finally told Satori the truth, even if it was by accident, and no matter what happened next, she knew she had taken the first step towards healing her heart.
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doux-amer · 1 year
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I can’t believe it took me until 2022 to finally understand Andrew Garfield’s appeal... I thought he was cute like a deer, and then I was just neutral about him beyond “seems like a nice guy. Also seems like he’s very enthusiastic and he’s straddling that cute eager puppy and annoying theater kid line closely once in a while for me” in the later years. But then something clicked last year? And then the Golden Globes flirting this year????? I’m not sure what, but I think I can see the attractiveness.
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kamitv · 1 month
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▷ Impatience
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Sypnosis . What happens when you come home late to them when they’re needy. / Pairings . (Separate) Gojo x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, non-curse au, dirty talk, unprotected sex, established relationships, oral sex f!receiving, dry humping, spitting, etc. / wc . 7.8k
[ MDNI ]
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★ Gojo Satoru
“Fuuuuck, I missed you so much today,” He’d groan directly into your mouth, aching cock slipping in between your dripping folds so perfectly, “Missed’ this pussy, fuck.” Gojo whispers against your lips.
You’d let off a whine and your brows would pinch together at your boyfriend’s words, “W-Was only gone f-for an-, ahh, a-an hour longer, ‘Toru,” Your cunt narrowed around his long cock as he continued pushing into you.
To come home to a needy Gojo always ended the same— you laid out on the nearest surface beneath him as he worked his dick inside you and forced you to tell him about your extended day.
“Mhmm, I know,” He’d frown, sharp cerulean eyes boring down into your own so carefully, “Felt like forever though,” Gojo explains, nudging himself in inch by inch and watching how your eyes flicker and your lips part to release a sigh.
“You’re s-so,” Gojo rolls his hips down into you and you moan at the way his cock presses into the depths of your pussy— filling you up so perfectly, “Dramatic,” You finish, words coming out as a breathy moan.
Gojo bit his lower lip to conceal a smile. Oh how he loved watching your face contort into pleasure, he could watch the stress fading out of your eyes and being replaced with lust forever.
“M’not dramatic,” He huffs. The two of you were on your shared living room couch as he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, needing to be inside you as quickly as possible.
Gojo’s got one hand intertwined with yours, pressing your fingers down into the soft couch cushion as he starts working up that pace of his.
“I missed my girlfriend,” Gojo groans, hips drawing back ever so slowly before he listens closely to the loud squelch of your cunt as his cock pushes back in. Biting his lip yet again, he smirks a bit, “Seems’ like she missed me too.”
Your neck arches a bit and you moan, the sound like music to his ears. “Toru, hahh-, you’re so big,” You mumble out due to the sheer stretch of his cock.
He can’t help but crack a full smile, his mind spinning a bit as your plush walls pulse around his veiny shaft. “Yeahh, but you take me so well every time, pretty girl,” Gojo praises, “Needy lil’ pussy’s always huggin’ my cock juuust right.”
Those lewd words of his make your face twist up but you can’t help but moan yet again as he slams down into you all at once.
“Hah, now tell me what held you up at work again?” Gojo requested amid his thrusts, despite watching you lose your breath.
You whine, “M-My coworker, mmgh-, h-he-“
Gojo’s cock twitched inside you, shifting slightly and purposefully angling into your cervix, “He?”
“M-Mmh-, y-yes Satoru, he!” You cry out, your hand squirming beneath his as Gojo’s larger fingers squeeze yours, “H-He… aagnh, fuck-, he messed up on some-, nngh, paperwork,” You just barely manage out.
The man above you tilts his head, eyes narrowing, and thrusts growing heavier. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just peers down at you with this look in his eyes.
You’d swear those blue irises of his were glowing with how intently he looked at you. Not that you were allowed much time to dissect that though as Gojo began fucking his cock down into you a bit harsher.
The sloppy sounds of his thrusts echoed throughout the room, all of which were followed by your moans and pleas for him to slow down.
Gojo swiftly moves his free hand in between your body and his, finding your clit without batting an eye and quickly pinching it, “So another man kept you from me?” He eventually breathes out.
He sounded upset, which kinda explains why he’s growing so rough with you— angry cockhead pounding into your cunt so viciously, as if to remind you of who you belong to.
“Toruu,” You whimper, “P-Please-, h-he’s, aah! H-He’s just a c-coworker,” You try your best to explain it to your lover but all your whines go through one ear and out the other.
Gojo rolls his eyes at you, “Yeah, a coworker who took up my girl’s time,” He argues, “Y’know what, call in sick tomorrow.”
“W-What?” You exhale heavily. With eyes as wide as ever, you couldn’t believe your boyfriend right now.
“W-What?” Gojo mocks you before you feel his thick cock shove impossibly deeper inside you, “You fuckin’ heard me. I said call in sick,” He voices out lowly. It was more of a command rather than a request at this point.
An airy little noise of disapproval leaves your throat, “Hhgn… I c-can’t just-“ His thumb swirls over your clit as his dick continues to split you open, your cunt wetting up his cock more and more with each thrust. Then his pelvis clashes down into yours a bit harder and your eyes roll back, “Ohmygod-“
“You can,” Gojo protests, pulling his hips back until he nearly slips out of you. Then he’s drilling right back in such an animalistic way.
“Toru,” You moan sweetly, his pupils dilating even more at the sound.
Even so, he has no plans on changing his mind, “Nah, it seems you forgot how I feel about other guys gettin’ in the way of us,” Gojo grunts. The sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he beat his lengthy cock deep into your pussy was so overwhelming.
Your legs began to quicker a little and your back was lifting off the couch, “But h-he’s not-“
“Shut up,” Gojo cuts off. And you do, shutting your mouth obediently and whining instead, “Good girlll,” Gojo praises in that low voice of his. Then he pants and you swear you feel him in your stomach at this point, “Now hurry up ‘nd cum f’me, we gotta make up for lost time.”
★ Geto Suguru
Who allows you to get into your shared home perfectly fine at first, helping you take off your shoes, speaking in such a soft tone to you as he requests the events of your longer day.
You’d answer him honestly and explain how there was an error you had to stay and fix— to which Geto would soothe you with his understanding nature and gentle words.
Yet, the very second you sigh a little too heavily for his liking, he’s dragging you off to the bedroom and offering himself as a stress reliever.
“Suguruuu,” You mewl out, thighs spread over his handsome face with his big hands latched to your legs, fingers pressing into your skin as he aided you.
Those pretty purple-hued eyes of his would gaze right up into yours as you faced him, his tongue delving into your cunt and lapping up your sweetness into his mouth. His deep groans were like heaven against your cunt.
"Use me, princess," Geto groaned just before flattening his tongue against your dripping pussy and lapping it upward so very tenderly that it had you twitching and squirming above him.
You pant heavily, hips grinding over the wet pink muscle below for more friction in such a needy manner. Geto's thick fingers slid up along your body, caressing your tensed skin beneath his touch before he grabbed ahold of your hips and forced you to ride his face faster.
Although you couldn't see it, constantly was your boyfriend lifting his hips into the air as he feasted on your cunt like a man staved, his cock pressing up into the fabric of his sweats and giving himself the slightest bit of friction needed.
A sticky bit of precum was wetting up his boxers where his tip was, his fat cock so very desperate for you. But, he'd force himself to wait, your pleasure was more important at the moment.
Which is why his jaw is dropping a bit and his lips are cupping your pussy as he slurps your juices into his mouth, some slipping out from the corner of his lips and dribbling down his face. Not that he cared of course, especially not when you were above him whining and moaning so beautifully.
"Fuck Sugu-, that f-feels so good-, hhggn... ah!" You whine desperately above him. He's been at it for a minute now but his tongue is so damn skillful and long that you've got no idea how much time has truly passed.
Geto retracts his head only a little bit before spitting a fat glob of saliva up onto your cunt, "What a messy girl you are," He comments, his breath tickling the insides of your thighs, "Drippin' all into my mouth even when I'm not even moving."
Then he's leaning up again, his lips pressing into your sensitive clit and making you jump at the contact. A jolt of pleasure shoots throughout your body as he plants a bunch of messy kisses to your clit before suckling it into his mouth.
The tip of his tongue dashes around the sensitive bud and you reach a hand down, fingers curling into his hair as you roll your hips forward against his face for more.
"Mmmgh," Geto hums against you, "Yeahh, ride my fuckin' face, baby," He encourages, his words making you impossibly wetter as you do just that.
His tongue sinks back down and slithers into your cunt, searing against your plush walls as he moans into you. Your legs begin to close around his head and his fingers dig into your skin, "F-Fuck, m'gonna cum Sugu."
He just nods below you, lidded eyes revealing his zero intent on slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your taste was so addicting to him, he could eat you out for hours and hours and never get tired.
Geto would have his mouth latched to your pussy until his jaw locked, and even then he'd still keep going. You could squirt on his face, beg him to give you a break, or even try pulling away from him but he'd always drag you back to him, tell you to take it, and request that you wet up his face again and again until he's satisfied.
Even as you cum in his mouth, his dick is throbbing in his sweats, twitching all over the place as it aches to be inside you. When you finally come undone and begin to pant softly above him, that's when he slows down.
"You can give me one more, yeah?" Geto hums with a sly smirk on his face, having yet to move an inch away from your pussy.
You shake your head, "M'tired Sugu..."
He frowns, "C'mon, you can't be tired after one orgasm. I thought we worked on that stamina of yours?" Geto whispers so softly as he turns slightly to kiss the inside of your thighs.
Pouting, "I had a long day..." You explain.
"Uhuh, and I'm trying to relieve you s'more baby," He tells you with an innocent look on his face, "C'mon, gimme a few more 'nd then I'll leave you alone."
"Suguru... you never leave me alone afterward," You huff out as you recall all the past times this exact scenario has played out.
Geto snickers, "That's because I've got a needy ass girl who likes beggin' for my cock afterward."
"I-," Your frown deepens, "I do not..."
"Yeahh ya' do..." He argues, "But it's alright, I like it when you're all needy 'nd start beggin' f'me."
With a slight groan, you shift above him a little, "...Shut up."
He tips his head back against the bed below and smiles, "Shut me up, c'mon. Put that pretty pussy on my mouth again."
Heat rushes to your face as he says that and almost instinctively, you just listen to him and sit right back down on his welcoming mouth.
★ Toji Fushiguro
Oh he hates when you come home late, as if he doesn’t do so himself all the damn time.
But the problem is that he’d be texting you begging-, no, never begging but, telling-, or ordering you to come home. Plethoras of I need you’s & look at what you’re doin’ to me’s followed by roughly five pictures of his thick and aggravatingly hard cock would ping to your phone while you’re in the middle of a meeting you didn’t have to attend.
And yes, you’ve explained this to your impatient partner Toji but does he care? Of course not.
So that’s why when you finally come home, you could barely into the damn house before he’s got that large veiny hand of his wrapped around your throat, tugging you into your household and slamming your body back against the front door to close it.
“Toji-“ You barely even get a chance to speak before he’s shoving his hot tongue into your mouth and shutting you up.
Your fiancé doesn’t care to hear your excuses, you’ve already texted them to him so, he’s grunting into your mouth and his free hand is moving to lock the door you’re up against.
His lips are hot and heavy against you, cologne dizzying your senses, bigger and much bulkier body pressing against you, and his hand limiting your oxygen.
“Told’ you I fuckin’ needed you,” Toji groans into your mouth as he trails a hand down and around your frame, quickly moving to grab a possessive hold of your ass, “Y’know how long I’ve been waitin’?”
You whine as his fingers curl into your ass cheek, squeezing so harshly before moving his lips to your jawline. “T-Toji, please, that meeting was-“
“Don’t care,” He hums so casually as he dips further down and to the side of your neck, sucking eagerly on your skin, “Forty-five fuckin’ minutes I’ve been waitin’ for you.”
You roll your eyes, “You’re such a big-, baby,” You stammer out as his hand shifts to your hip and he tugs you so that his one larger leg can press in between yours.
Toji scoffs against you and his hand leaves your throat, “I’m a big baby? Says the one who starts cryin’ from jus’ the tip.”
You grit your teeth and your hands go to his broad shoulders, “I do not…” You gasp as his thigh presses up against your clit, “You’re exaggeratin’.”
“Oh am I?” Toji chuckles, pulling his head up so he can look at your face, “Look at’cha now, can’t even handle a couple of kisses without lookin’ all fucked out.”
You frown at the man, “You couldn’t even let me get past the damn door before your hands were all over m-“
He shuts you up by lifting a hand to shove two thick fingers into your mouth, “God, you talk too much.”
A pout pulls at your lower lip as his fingers sink into your throat and press down on the back of your tongue. Your eyes gloss over a little and you gag.
His scared lip pulls up into a smirk, “Look at that fuckin’ pout… Aww, you mad?” Toji taunts.
God, you cannot stand him. Well, you can, that’s why you’ve got an engagement ring on your finger now— but still, he never fails to piss you off. And you’re pretty sure he likes pissing you off. He definitely gets a kick out of seeing you upset.
You move to graze his fingers with your teeth and he raises a brow.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Toji warns.
You groan against him before letting out a tired sigh and slithering your tongue in between the two fingers lodged in your mouth. He flashes a smile at you.
Then he nods approvingly, “Yeahhh, tha’s it.”
Oh his cock was in pain due to how hard he was. And it doesn’t get any better when you pull your head back a little before pushing forward, sucking on his fingers like the obedient little fiancée he knows you to be.
Toji licks his lips in almost slow motion, “So fuckin’ sexy, doll. Y’know that right?”
You smile against his fingers briefly before you nod, “Mhmm…”
He sighs heavily as he watches you suck on him, cock twitching in his sweatpants every time you throat his fingers and bat those pretty eyes of yours at him.
Then, he practically loses his mind when you pull off with a loud pop before taking his wrist into your hands, spitting on the tip of his fingers, and then taking them right back into your mouth.
Toji groans at the sight, “Nasty lil’ slut,” He huffs out, “Suckin’ on my fingers like it’s my cock… you’re enjoyin’ yourself, huh?”
You smile yet again and nod, “Mmh…”
“Fuck, keep lookin’ at me like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum without even seein’ your pussy.” He warns.
That makes you far more eager than he expects it to and you tilt your head to the side and really start sucking on his fingers like they’re his dick.
Then, you pull off for a moment just to speak, “Put three in my mouth,” You request, sticking your tongue out and watching how his lips part and he nearly moans at the request alone.
Toji tips his head back ever so slightly, eyes getting lower as he shifts to hold three fingers to your lips, “You’re so fuckin’ nasty,” He whispers before pushing his digits in and feeling you hum against him, “Gonna make me cum from this, pretty girl…”
You twist your head a bit as you suck on him, running your tongue all in between his fingers, drool escaping out the corner of your lips, and one of your hands suddenly dropping from his wrists. Toji’s eyes flicker when your free hand grabs ahold of his cock through his clothes.
“S-Shit,” He hisses, “God, I love you,” Toji hums as your hand strokes his aching cock through his clothing.
You were all too perfect for him, sucking on his fingers, rubbing your palm against the outline of his clothes— he swears he’s never found himself about to cum from something so simple before.
Your mouth furthers on his fingers and your hand moves to slip into his sweats, making his body jerk forward when you grab his thick cockhead and run your fingers over it so teasingly.
“Fuuuck,” He groans with his jaw going slack, “The hell would I do without you-, mgh,” He grunts deeply as you stroke his tip carefully.
Toji’s hips buck into your touch and he’s trying so hard not to moan— he was really aching for you more than he’d let on.
A messy slick of precum gets all over your hand but it makes it easier for you to start jerking him off, your mouth still latched to his fingers for a moment before you pull off.
Then you kiss him and smile, “C’mon big guy, go ahead ‘nd cum f’me so you can fuck me properly.”
Oh he practically loses his sanity at that, body folding over and toward you as he rests his forehead on your shoulder and finally lets out that sexy moan he’s been keeping in.
You snicker as you jerk him off and you can feel his cock throbbing in your hand, the messy sounds of your fingers sliding along his thick shaft filling the air.
Toji tilts his head and his lips press against your skin but he doesn’t kiss you, just opens his mouth and pants, “M’so close, doll. Don’t stop, d-don’t you fuckin’ stop,” He groans against your neck, breath hot and body tense because of you.
You smile, “You’re so needy Toji…”
His teeth graze your neck for a moment as he nearly sinks them into your skin, “Don’t call me fucking needy.”
“But you are,” You voice out so sensually that it makes his head spin
Toji grunts and you swear you hear a different noise almost escape the back of his throat as your hand squeezes his cock. “M’gonna fuck the shit outta’ you after this,” He huffs, “Gonna make sure you can’t even-, aagh…. walk tomorrow.” He stammers out.
You move to whisper in his ear, “Mhm, I’m sure you will.”
“I’ll show you fuckin’ needy,” Toji utters through gritted teeth, your hand just jerking and jerking— his legs were starting to stiffen because of how good it felt.
“Stop talkin’ ‘nd cum f’me so you can fill me up,” You whisper teasingly.
Toji’s eyes roll back, “I’ll put a baby in you if you keep talkin’ like that.”
“Maybe I want you to,” You giggle.
Then your hand focuses on his leaking tip and he just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning at both your skillful hand and your teasing words before hot and thick ropes of cum are spurting out.
His hands ball into tight fists as he does so and he pants heavily beside you. And his groans were so loud, he was really worked up.
In one quick motion, he lifts his head from your shoulder and presses his lips into yours, “Fuckin’ love you,” Toji grunts into you.
And you’re smiling against him, “Mhm, love’ you too, ya’ big baby.”
Toji scoffs before pulling away from your lips, “Alright, call me a big baby one more time ‘nd see what happens.”
You stare at the man, noticing the slight smirk he has, “…But Toji… you are a big baby— never satisfied ‘til you get what you want.”
“Seems like you’ve got the roles here reversed, doll,” He huffs before pecking your lips one more time, “S’fine tho’, I’ll fix that soon enough.”
★ Choso Kamo
Coming home late to your needy boyfriend Choso is never a bad thing. If anything, you think you stay longer at work on purpose to tease the man.
When you get home wee hours into the night, all the lights in the apartment would be off, there'd be practically no sound throughout the place and you'd wonder if Choso was sleeping.
Of no surprise to you, he isn't when you make your way to the living room and see his legs spread as wide as ever as he watches some show playing on the large TV on the wall across the room from him. You'd carefully make your way around the couch and notice he's got his eyes shut and his head is rested slightly back on the couch.
How cute, he'd fallen asleep waiting for you. So what do you do as his loving girlfriend? Well, you move to straddle him and take a very comfortable seat in his lap, his entire body jolting awake at your presence.
The smell of your perfume would seep into his nose, the feeling of your thighs spread over his would make his body tense, and the way you'd wrap your arms around his neck as he woke up would have him letting out a sigh of relief.
"Hi Cho," You'd greet so lovingly, voice caressing his ear just before you plant a cute lil' kiss near it.
Choso's hands move on instinct, two large pairs of fingers grabbing onto each side of your waist. Then, before he even gets a second to say anything, you're tipping your head down to kiss him on the side of his neck like you always do.
He groans immediately and you feel his cock jump at the sudden kiss. Then he's gripping onto your waist tighter, "Missed' you baby..." Choso tells you in that deep voice of his, the sound making you shift against him.
Your kisses trail up and you find yourself right below his jaw, "Missed you too, Cho."
He inhales sharply as you then lick him before sucking on his skin a little, "Yeah?" Choso teases, sleepily dragging his hands down a bit and grabbing ahold of your hips before squeezing, "You stayed at work longer than normal..."
"I know, I know, m'sorry," You coo as you try to make up for it with the constant kisses to his neck.
And he's so sensitive too, squirming all over the damn place as you do so. You could feel his dick growing beneath you and the feeling encouraged you to get more comfortable in his lap.
Then you lift your face from his neck and meet those low brown eyes of his, "Heard me? I said I'm sorry Cho."
He stares at you for a long moment before cocking his head to the side, "Are you?" Choso asks.
You blink, "Of course I am!"
"Prove it t'me, baby," Choso requests, voice as deep as ever.
You could feel yourself twitching every time he spoke, the look in his eyes and faint touch on your body driving you crazy. "How do you want me to prove it to you Cho, hm?" You ask softly.
Just as his voice made you ache, your voice made the tip of his cock leak. He's lifting his hips up into yours without a second thought and he doesn't miss the way you gasp softly at his clothed cock pressing up into your cunt.
"Ride me," Choso says calmly, "If you're sorry, make it up t'me by makin' me cum."
You smile at the man, "That's it? Choso you're acting like I haven't made you cum without even touching you before..."
He scoffs slightly and leans back into the couch so lazily— a sleepy, but sexy smile spreading across his face as he does so. “You tied me up, that was different, baby.”
Tilting your head, you smile back at him, “Was it?”
“Mhm, ‘nd when I say ride me,” Choso’s hands slither down along your legs before finding a place on your thighs, “I mean jus’ like this.”
You just stare with wide confused eyes, “…What do you mean just like this?”
“Dry hump me,” He explains with a slick smirk on his face.
A pout pulls at your lower lips, “Like a damn teenager Cho? Why can’t we just-“
“Knew you weren’t sorry for stayin’ out later,” Choso huffs out as he turns his head to the side.
Again, you stare at him— trying to figure out if he’s being for real right now or if he’s just teasing. But, based on the aching cock you’re sitting on top of and the way Choso’s fingers are holding your thighs, you get the idea that he’s dead serious.
So, with a sigh, “Fine,” You tell him, earning a quick turn of his head to you.
Choso comforts himself a bit more, slouching back into the couch further and rolling his hips upward to get comfortable. Though, his little movement only causes his dick to press up into your cunt.
The layers in between you and him weren’t really helping how stupidly aroused you both were. With a soft sigh escaping from your lips, you start off slow— gently rocking your hips forward as if to test the waters a bit.
Your boyfriend, Choso, quickly lets out a huff. Nothing could beat that teasing sensation of your clothed cunt rubbing against his aching boner. His eyes lowered and despite a cute lil’ shade of red taking over his features, his fingers grip onto your thighs tightly.
“Yeahh, like that, baby,” He whispers.
You hum sweetly and lean forward, pressing your chest against his as you meet his low gaze, “This’ all you want?”
Choso nods carefully, licking his lips in almost slow motion as you just rock your hips back and forth in such a mesmerizing manner. You had such a good rhythm with your hips, perfectly rolling your cunt in small little circles over his cock and gasping every once in a while.
He soon let out a groan and tips his head back, “Just… keep-, mmgh, keep doin’ that.”
You smile at your all-too-sensitive boyfriend before leaning forward and connecting your lips to his neck, “Choso… Baby,” You whine,” Are you really gonna cum from this?”
He barely even nods at your words, hands slithering further up your body to grab ahold of your waist once more, “F-Feels like you’re actually— fuckin’ me,” His voice was husk already, deep but laced with the faintest whine just as you liked it.
“Yeah?” You utter tauntingly. Then you began bouncing slightly, rutting against his cock with more vigor as he humped up into you reflectively.
“Hahh…. Princess,” He whines, “S-Shit, I… I wanna fuck you.”
You lick a long and almost languid stripe up along his neck, stopping at his jaw and giggling, “So fuck me, Cho.”
All that’s let out from him is a groan before he’s flipping the two of you over, his much larger frame in between your legs as he stares down at you so very hungrily.
Then Choso’s drawing his hips back only a little before he presses down into your clothed pussy, the outline of his dripping cock nudging right in between your folds and making your eyes flutter for a moment.
Choso shakes his head at you, “Why’d you come home s’late?” He mumbles.
You let out the faintest moan as he works up a needy pace of humping his dick against you. “C-Choso-“
“Answer my question,” He breathes out as he leans his face down to your aroused expression, “Hm? Why’d you come home late? Y’know I missed you, right?”
You nod and he rolls his hips down into yours, cock mashing into your cunt and even grazing your clit, “H-Hahhh, I-I know Cho… I just-, mmh! Remember t-that promotion I told you about?”
He stares for a second before shrugging, “Yeah…”
“I needed to show… h-how serious I am about it,” You moan as you explain and your jaw goes a bit slack as he weighs his body down into yours a little and Choso grows a little rougher.
“Is a promotion more important than me?” He huffs out, whispering gently to you.
Your head shakes, “No, of course n-not-“
“I texted you, baby,” Choso cuts off, his face growing closer, “Told you I needed you.”
“Cho-“
“Needed your cunt on me,” He huffs out mindlessly, “Needed this, aagh…” His words are emphasized with a rougher thrust against you.
Your body jerks a bit and you have such a lewd expression on your face— almost as if you were getting fucked for real, “Choso,” You moan as he swipes a hand down and rubs over your clit through your clothes.
“I missed her,” He hums, “Missed’ how she talks to me…” All as he rolls that thumb of his over your clit and continues rutting his cock down against you, “You gonna cum f’me, baby?”
“M-Mhmm,” You whine as your hips lift into his movements.
Choso smiles a little, “C’mon then, give it t’me so I can fuck you for real.”
“Choso…” You murmur as his words go straight to your core, your body hot and aching for sweet release.
He nods and his eyes never once leave yours, “Uhuh, keep sayin’ my name.”
Your back begins to arch off of the couch and he grows faster with the way he humps his cock down into you, “Cho,” You whimper.
“Mhm, I’m right here baby,” He coos lovingly, “Act like I’m n’side you, cum just like you would on my cock, princess.”
And just like that, you were cumming, legs closing around your boyfriend as he watches your face and body twist up.
Then he starts kissing your neck and sucking on your skin possessively, “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” He whispers into you.
Then, once your body stills, he leans up and quickly pulls his shirt off, staring down at your wide glossy eyes. A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he drags his hands down and tugs on his drawstring.
“Ready t’see how much my cock missed you?” Choso teases as he tauntingly pulls on the waistband of his sweats.
You just nod, almost dumbly as you peer up at him, “Mhm.”
Then he’s smiling again, “Alright but, don’t start cryin’ when you can’t take it anymore, ‘kay?”
★ Nanami Kento
Okay, he’s literally the reason you come home late.
Because of course, working at the same company as your husband isn’t always the best idea. And yes, everyone knows Nanami hates working overtime.
But, when his pretty wife comes into his office after sending teasing messages for the past hour or so about getting home and taking a soothing bath together— Nanami finds himself straining through his clothes.
You’d walk in with that tight pencil skirt and lowly unbuttoned blouse, a way of dressing you know drives him insane.
Then there’s your voice caressing his ear as you walk around his desk and wrap your arms around his neck, whispering an oh-so-sweet, “Need any help in here, sir?” And you know what that honorific does to him when coming out of your mouth.
It all makes him shift in his seat, moving to lean over and rest his chin on his knuckles as he places his elbow on the armrest of his chair, “Yes but not with anything on this damn screen,” Nanami huffs.
You smile, knowing exactly what he means by that but deciding to play dumb anyway. Then you turn and press your lips into his cheek, “Awh,” You coo, glancing over to the neatly assorted paperwork on his desk, “Then, could it be that pile of work you need help with? It is almost time to go.”
Nanami sighs and lifts his head from his hand, turning to look at you whose eyes are busy elsewhere, “No, not that either,” He hums in that honeyed voice of his.
You turn to face him, your eyelids lowering as you find yourself a bit closer than anticipated, “Then what is it, Ken?” Your question comes off as innocent and you tilt your head.
His eyes narrow at you and he scans your expression momentarily. After which, his gaze meets yours, “You are so beautiful,” Your husband suddenly compliments.
And it never once fails to make your heart swell and a smile brightens up your face, “Thank you, hun,” You say before moving to peck his lips, “But where is this sudden sentiment coming from, hm?”
Nanami leans toward your face a little just as you pull your lips off of his and you find it so very endearing how clear it is what he wants from you. “I can’t compliment my wife?” He asks.
“You can.” Giggling, your hands retract from him as you stand up straight— watching how his expression sinks a little due to the loss of your touch, “But I’m just curious is all…”
Your head turns to that stack of paperwork again and you reach for the paper at the top of the pile, skimming over it as you do so.
Nanami watches, falling deeper in love with your every move and trying his best not to think with his cock and act on impulse— though he’d done it before, lord knows he wanted to bend you over his desk and-
“Ken, I thought we discussed this contract here,” You utter, breaking him from his lewd thoughts.
Nanami shakes his head and clears his throat. Then, he reaches a hand over and grabs a light hold of your free hand, trying to gain your attention, “We probably did but,” You turn and look at him as he lifts your hand to his face and lands a kiss across your knuckles, “Can we please discuss that later?”
You gaze at your husband for a long moment, finally noticing the bulge in his pants. “Oh. Is that what you need my help with?” You emphasize as you place the paper in your hand down and point to his crotch.
Nanami moves to intertwine his fingers with yours, “I know it’s unprofessional but, yes.”
You turn your body to face him and he tries to pull you closer but you don’t move. “Ken… if I handle that now we’ll be here longer than we’d like.”
He nods, “I’m aware.”
Frowning in disappointment at your impatient husband, you let off a sigh and push forward, stepping in between his legs. “I wasn’t aware I married such a needy man.” You tease as you draw your hand away from his.
Nanami quickly sits back in his seat, the chair creaking a bit as he does so. He’s got this almost pained look on his face, as if another second without you would kill him.
“Me? Needy?” Nanami huffs, clearly not aware of the look on his chiseled face.
You smile and begin to get down on your knees, the sight making his cock jump within his pants. “Yes, you.” You scoff, “Who else?”
Your husband parts his thighs further for you and smirks, “Between you and I, I am not the needy one in this relationship.”
You nod slowly as your fingers trail along his muscular thighs, the teasing movements causing his tip to drip so messily against his clothing. “So what do you call this then?” You utter, nodding your chin toward his erection.
Those delicate hands of your trail up to his belt and you begin to undo it so slowly that it pains him not to rush you. “You caused it,” Nanami argues.
You smirk, “That doesn’t answer my question, husband of mine.”
“Well, wife of mine, I don’t have time to answer questions right now,” He mocks, tipping his head to the side and watching you like a hawk as your hands finally near his cock, “M’Too hard to think straight.” He grunts.
And then finally, your hand is tugging his throbbing cock out, your eyes widening at the sight as if you hadn’t seen it a million times before. Nanami loves the way you admire him though, he just watches in awe at how your gaze travels along his thick and lengthy member, your mouth salivating in such a hungry way.
“C’mon, I don’t have all day…” Nanami rushes, to which you glance past his length and up at his face with a pout. “Oh don’t look at me like that, we’ve already been here five minutes past our working hours.”
You snicker and lean your face close to his cock just to push your lips to his weeping and flushed tip, “And whose fault is that?” You whisper before you kiss him.
He inhales sharp enough for you to hear, “Yours,” Nanami groans out to you.
Your lips move to wrap around the tip of his cock, tongue quickly swiping in between his slit and making the man shudder above you. Then, you pull your tongue away and look up at him again, “Mine, he says…” You hum to yourself before tilting your head.
Then you’re trailing kisses down the side of his dick until you get to the base, gently sucking on the underside of his cock where he’s sensitive and earning a deep groan that makes your cunt throb.
“…As if you’re not the one begging me to suck you off,” You huff out.
Nanami lands a heavy hand down on your head as you shift to drag your tongue upward along his length until you get to his pretty pink tip, swiveling your tongue around it and pulling off slightly to spit onto it.
“Oh don’t act like you didn’t want to do this,” Nanami argues back to you. Your gaze meets his and he stares at the way you open your mouth slowly, but… not to say something back to him.
Instead, your mouth is closing around his cock before he has time to process— yet another groan leaving his lips and echoing throughout his office. Inch by inch by inch, your mouth furthers down his dick with no problem.
Even as his cock enters your throat and your lips reach his base, you don’t gag or even choke. Nanami’s eyelashes fluttered at the tightness of your throat around him, trying not to groan too much despite it being hard not to when your mouth was so warm and wet around him.
“Fuuck,” He curses deeply, fingers curling into your hair, “I trained this throat well it seems…”
You whine against him and his body twitches. Slowly, you start to lift your head before you work up a pleasureful pace of bobbing your head— sucking on his cock all too well.
Nanami’s free hand grips onto the edge of his armrest as you go to work on him and his eyes begin to lift to his ceiling. Looking down at you with your mouth stuffed full of his cock would only lead him to cum too soon.
The wet sounds slipping from out your mouth as you sucked and licked on his dick filled the air, your eyes lowering as pleasing your husband like this only turned you on more than you already were. The two of you had been teasing one another all day.
Even from earlier that morning when Nanami woke you up by kissing at your neck so lovingly, whispering sweet nothings against your skin in that deep and sexy morning voice of his. He’s had you worked up since then so now, you’re sucking him off like you want him to pass out from it.
And he might because goddamn your mouth is like heaven around him. Your head bobs and twists, your throat opening up to take him in deep every time you push down, and a moan vibrates against him as his hand tugs at your hair every now and then.
Then there’s your tongue, slithering up and down and left and right, slicking against each vein in such a way that tells him you remember every single one.
“Oh fuck,” Nanami curses yet again, hips unconsciously bucking up into your mouth for more, “So good… Your mouth feels s’good on me, love.”
You give his cock one long and hard suck until you pull off with a loud pop, sticking your tongue out for a moment as you move a hand to jerk him off. “Yeah? Couldn’t wait til’ we got home, huh?” You tease.
He just shakes his head at you and watches through lidded eyes as you tap the tip of his fat cock on your tongue, smiling a little as you do so.
He pants, “Hahh… not when I have a perfect cocksleeve of a wife t’help me out…” Nanami says lowly.
And your face twists up at that, eyebrows pinching together slightly and pout pulling at your lower lip, “Ken…” You whisper, your hand tightening around his shaft as you give him quick pulls.
“M’sorry,” Nanami apologizes quickly, making you smile. “I-, aagh… I didn’t mean t-that….” He huffs out, clearly out of it as you jerk him off so perfectly, better than he ever could on his own.
You lean forward and purposefully suck on only his top, tongue lulling around it, in between his slit, pushing saliva out of your mouth and making it all the more messy before you pull him back into your mouth.
Then Nanami moans into the air, “Fuuck, n-no, I meant that…” He corrects, “You suck me off like a goddamn-“
You pull off for a second and smile, “Say it…”
“Whore,” Nanami grunts and you moan as you sink your mouth down onto him again, making his abs tense up beneath his shirt.
Your eyes gloss over as you take him all the way in, closing your throat around his cock and practically sucking the soul out of him. Then your hands sneak down and you cup his balls in your hand, feeling how some of the mixed saliva and precum has slipped down.
Nanami nearly kicks something as you do so, his head flying back as he moans out your name. The sound makes your pussy so unbelievably wet, eyes glancing up to get a good look at your husband who was so close to finishing in your mouth.
Then you see him take a shaky hand and tug at that bright yellow tie of his, yanking it loose and messily unbuttoning some of the buttons on his shirt so that he could breathe properly.
Not that that really helps him escape that damn mouth of yours. As you lift your mouth to breathe, both of your hands move to make up for it, your lips and tongue focusing on his tip all over again.
“Goddamn-,” Nanami’s breath hitches and his eyes begin to roll back, “Y-You’re gonna make me-,” He groans again as you slurp his tip into your mouth sloppily, hands twisting and tugging at his cock so damn deliciously that he actually does accidentally kick his desk in front of him.
There’s a thud that follows but neither of you pay any attention to it. You’re too busy making his head spin with that mouth of yours and Nanami’s trying not to-
Whatever the hell he was trying not to do, he does— abrupt and warm ropes of cum shooting into your mouth. Nanami’s body hunches forward as he does so, almost as if he were trying to escape your mouth for a second.
Your hands only move out of the way though, mouth sinking all the way down on his cock so that you don’t miss a single drop of him.
Nanami’s chanting your name lowly over and over as he cums, small little I love you’s and you’re so perfect’s flowing out his mouth as he does so.
Once he’s done and you finally pull your lips off of his cock, you’ve got a mouth full of cum and you purposefully don’t swallow yet. Looking up at your husband with wet eyelashes and batting them at him, you roll your tongue around in your mouth and show him what a mess he’s made in there.
Nanami practically chokes at the sight before averting his eyes, “Don’t do that…” He hums, “J-Just…. Swallow it.”
Your hands go to his knees and you push up a little to lean toward his face, forcing him to look at you. Then, his eyes fall on your mouth and he watches as you close it and gulp loudly, sticking out your tongue afterward for him with a cute ah sound following.
Nanami shakes his head at you and scoffs, “Nasty slut.” He degrades.
You flash him a smile, and lean up for a kiss, “You know you love me that way,” You murmur as your lips near his.
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he moves a, still shaky, hand to your jaw and tugs your face to his, “I do. I really do,” Nanami says before kissing you passionately despite his taste on your tongue.
After which, he pulls away and gazes deeply into your eyes. You reciprocate the stare and even smile at him again.
He grins, “Promise I’ll thank you for this properly when we get home.”
You nod, “You better.”
“Mh,” He hums before tilting his head, “Or I could lay you out on this desk and repay you now?”
Blinking, you shrug, “Up to you, Ken.”
He stares for a moment, licking his lips at the thought of being in between your legs. Then, he shakes his head, “Nope, I’ll make you wait ‘til we get home.”
Your eyes go wide, “But-“
Nanami chuckles, “That’s what you get for calling me needy.”
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suguann · 4 months
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
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“This is my daddy, his name is Simon.” Your daughter stood proud, beaming up at her father as she introduced him to her kindergarten class. “He is a soldier for the SAS.”
Simon watched as nearly a dozen small eyes watched him intently. Usually, in circumstances like this Simon would be nervous, but the tight comforting grip of his little girls hand in his, had his confidence soaring.
“Well class, does anyone have any questions for Mr. Riley?” Your daughter’s teacher asked, giving Simon a knowing smile.
Simon’s eyes widened as every single hand in that classroom rose, each hand eagerly waving, waiting to be picked on.
He answered what felt like a million questions in ten minutes. The questions ranged from, how long has he been in service, what does his job entail, has he killed anyone, is he friends with his other soliders- you name it. He actually found himself enjoying answering the questions, and was genuinely surprised at the maturity of some of the children.
Simon rarely liked being the center of attention, but he felt a surge of pride bubbling in his chest as he looked over at her daughter who was looking back at him like he was the coolest person on the planet.
~
Later on, a group of kids surrounded your daughter as Simon stood outside the classroom chatting away with some of the parents. He let his eyes wander, watching as his daughter chatted excitedly to her fellow classmates.
“I’m so jealous your dad seems so cool!” One of the kids told your daughter, and the rest of the children nodded in agreement. “I wish he was my dad.”
“I know.” Your daughter said, a proud smile lining her lips. “My daddy is the best there is.”
Little did she know, Simon was standing right around the corner listening to her every word, a soft smile dancing on his lips.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: sorry this is trash, lol. Had this idea after a dream I had, and had to write it😂🥺
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hoshigray · 2 months
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Hey, can I request some Toji, please? 👉🏻👈🏻 having sex with him after an argument and silent treatment for several days, but not like wild fucking, but kinda intimate and passionate 😔 like imagine you finally make up after an argument and he missed you soooo much and he want to kiss everywhere, look you in the eyes and praise the hell out of you 🥺
Damn, I need soft Toji bad 😭 wish you a great day 🫶🏻
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: arguing!? make up sex!?!? with soft dom toji!!??? ahhhhhhh—
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - implied argument + make-up sex - kissing/making out - Daddy kink - oral (m! + f! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play - anvil/mating press + spooning positions - cockwarming - praise - unprotected sex - multiple orgasms - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, sweet baby, sweetie) - Toji being whipped + missing you, i'm so soft - itty bitty angst in beginning + fluff on SMUT on fluff - mention os spit/drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k
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Toji didn’t like having arguments with you. They made you distant from him, pushed him away, and he’ll feel like utter shit until things subside after kissing and making up. And when the tension between you lasts for an entire week? Oh, that makes him experience a new gut-wrenching definition of guilt. 
Avoiding him is a torture he doesn’t want from you — oh, he can’t stand it. When you use the shower in the morning after he uses it in the nighttime, when your eyes don’t acknowledge his existence, or when you sleep far into your side of the bed with your back to him while he’s in a state of unease trying to find sleep without your warmth on him. 
A whole week of nothing but side glances and avoiding being in the same place as him, especially in your shared apartment. With every passing day, the pressure growing felt like you two were drifting apart — something Toji would never want between you. He already lost one love of his life; the mere thought of losing another was strong enough to have his stomach drop. 
It drives him so fucking crazy, especially when you’re in the kitchen washing dishes, Megumi and Tsumiki are at a sleepover, and him on the living room couch, supposedly watching sports highlights. But he can’t; his thoughts are too occupied reflecting on you — missing you. God, did he miss you — so fucking much that he shuts the television off and walks to the kitchen with a purpose. 
He brings you in with an embrace, spooking the daylights out of you that you almost jumped. You thank your stars you were done washing the dishes by the time he came around, or else he’d give you another thing to be mad about. “J-Jesus, Toji…! Scaring me like that, what are you—“
“I’m sorry.”
Two words — that’s all it takes to silence you, and your body stiffens in his hold. Toji takes this time to indulge in having you in his arms after such a break, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your abdomen and his face buried in the crook of your neck. The way your breath hitches at his lips on your shoulder, he kisses the skin exposed from your tank top. Fuck, you make him go insane.
“I don’t want us like this, baby,” he proceeds, sighing deeply when his hand creeps to your wet one to grasp. “Pushin’ you away from me like this, it’s drivin’ me crazy. Don’t avoid me because of dumb shit I did or said.” You were listening intently; the TV was off, so there’s no way you’d be ignorant enough to close him off. But you didn’t say anything yet, making the raven-haired man keep going. “This silent treatment, it’s fuckin’ with me; sleepin’ far on one side with y’r back to me, taking showers at different times, and not looking at me in the eye…” A kiss to the neck has you breathing cautiously. “Makes me think I’m losin’ you, and I don’t want that. So….I’m sorry.”
He can’t lie; the stillness between you two has him anxious, barely keeping it together and fighting the quiver of his fingers from showing. He nearly misses your signal — slapping his forearm wrapped around your stomach. Toji loosens his hold on you, and you turn around to face him. It feels like it’s been forever since the last time your eyes were on his for more than a second, and he freezes at the touch of your hands cupping his face.
“You’d never lose me, Toji,” you say to him in a whisper so the world doesn’t intervene with this moment. You bring your face to him to kiss the scar on his lip and return the hug. “And I’m sorry, too.”
There’s hesitance when he circles his arms around your waist again, but your frame on him gradually puts him at ease. “Sorry ‘bout what?” 
You peer up at him with your chin on his chest. Goddamn, your beauty was unreal. “For not apologizing sooner.” 
Toji hums with an aimless nod. “So,” he brings a hand to cup your cheek, and you lean to his touch. “Are we cool?” You nod with a smile. “Good.”
You repeat. “Good.”
A few seconds go by when his viridian orbs are locked in with yours before his face draws in close. “I missed you…”
Your eyes instinctively close. “I miss—Mmm.”
Your sentence is cut off at the contact of his lips on yours, asking for permission by laying himself onto you more and licking your bottom lip. With your hands enveloping his neck, you open your mouth to receive him. A moan slips out when he pushes his tongue gently, the hand on your cheek coming around to hold you by the back of your head. 
The kiss gets hot and steamier with every peck, the hand on your waist slithering down to grope your ass hiding inside your leggings. You wail as your frame hits the sink, and Toji uses this to cage you into him. A strong leg comes in between yours, having you essentially ride him as you lovingly suck his tongue. And it gets intense when he slams his face to yours, taking in your sweet noises that poke him to make more. 
Sounds of lips smacking together fill the kitchen space, and your hands find their way inside his sweatshirt to roam over his back. And Toji loves your touch on him; how he yearned to feel your fingers on his skin again.  
Oxygen is needed to carry on, so he breaks the kiss for you both to breathe. Heavy pants are shared at the union of your foreheads pressing together. You huff prettily with hooded eyes up to him, unveiling a smile as your fingers play with the black strands on his nape.
“I missed you, too, Toji." You finally say to him, sealing the fate for what’s to happen into the night.
“Hahhh, fuck, keep suckin’ me like that, mama…Shit, I missed this.”
You two are now in the comfort of your shared bedroom, no longer acting like strangers in your bed. Hands and lips show no interest in being away from bodies; Toji, in particular, uses this time to get his calloused hands drunk on feeling your curves, dents, and skin. 
And you’re on the same boat, placing soft kisses on whatever place you can find. His lips, his clavicle, sneaking inside his sweatshirt to tweak and lick his nipples before trailing down to the dent of his sweats. Pulling the pants down sprung out his hard-on, and you feverishly greet his cock with your mouth. 
Toji gets lost in the sensation of your lips and tongue, gripping the sheets at his dick and being swallowed whole into your warm throat. Fuck, you were so good at this, using your hands to stroke him as you sucked his glans harshly while gingerly massaging his balls. Your humming on him feels so good that his hand goes to your head to steady himself. 
“Fucking Christ,” he curses under his breath, and his hips jerk to create friction. He wants to come so bad, stuff your face with his dick, and pump his load into you. But no, not right now. He taps your cheek, and you bat your eyes at him. “Mmm, c’mon, sweetie. Let’s switch.”
You take out his cock from your mouth and a string of saliva sticks to you and his cockhead. “But you didn’t—“
“Don’t worry; I will later,” he squishes your cheeks, wiping spit from the corners of your lips. And he means that because being one with you is what he wants more than anything tonight.
But before that, he needs to have you be prepared for him. After all, it has been a week.
“—Ahhhh, ahhhh, Tojiii, I just came…!”
“There you go, baby,” his baritone voice rocked to your core, his tongue licking and sucking the skin of your inner thigh. “Keep makin’ a mess for me...”
He nestled between your legs, his mouth stuffed in the proximity of your cunt that’s been orally stimulated for the past few minutes now. All for the sake of prep, yet Toji missed being close to your vagina like this, sucking your slick with ease.
Fuck, your taste in his buds was nearly nostalgic. It all felt familiar — felt right. His tongue swirled around your labia to make you whimper, shoving it inside your entrance to essentially fuck you on his tongue, resulting in pretty screams as you grab tuffs of raven hair. And since you just came, your legs trembled with sensitivity, trying to close your legs to shield yourself.
But that’s not what’s happening tonight, not with Toji. His hands easily hold your legs by the back of your knees, exposing your beautiful, soapy chaos of a chasm to him for him to enjoy. His face is so crowded between your legs and folds that his nose bumps and presses to the hood of your clit. You cry at his hold on you, forced to take whatever his tongue gives you.
“Moohhh, hooohh, To’jiiiii,” you’re shrieking when he laps on your clitoris, and your frame jolts from the onslaught. “Stooohhhpp! I can’t…!”
“Yes, you can,” he removes himself from your slit, licking your essence plastered on his scarred lips. Toji rests his head on the thigh where his hand is massaging. A low chortle leaves him when you shake your head, sneaking his free hand to your cunt where his middle and forefinger insert efficiently. You gasp sharply, and his thick digits go to work. “Don’t tell Daddy you can’t, sweet baby; I need you to be all wet for me.”
The title he uses on himself has your walls twitch on him. “Hahhh, I’m wet enough…Ohoo!!”
“Aht, aht, none of that,” he coos while pressing a thumb on your clit, and you wail at him as he makes circles on your bud. “Gotta have you all ready for me…” The squelches of his fingers exploring your insides are hot to hear. Fucking Christ, Toji couldn’t get enough of you, trying to fight the urge to plunge his mouth back on your cunt when you smell too good to resist. 
His eyes flickered back to your face when you shudder at the scrape of his blunt fingertips on your velvety texture. “D-Daddyyy, I’m gonna cummm…”
You make him snicker. “Yeah? You gonna cum?” He takes his tongue and runs an excruciatingly sluggish lick to your clit; it has you gripping the sheets. “Gonna make a mess on Daddy again, pretty thing?” You nod hastily with a chewed lip, fuck you looked so cute being desperate for him. He removes his finger with a deep sigh. “Mmm, ‘kay, stay still fr’ me, baby.”
You find that impossible as he descends back to your leaking slit to lick and suck like crazy, his hands on your hips to keep your writhing figure from escaping the older man sucking on your nectar. Christ, you tasted so good, his jaw wet from pushing his face further in to have more of you in his mouth as possible, chasing you to ride out another orgasm for him to drink on. 
He’d make you cum for the second time that night. Something you know is essential as you’re soon bent on your back, your legs to the air supported by his shoulders, and constant wails fly out your slippery lips and bounce the walls of your bedroom. You can only thank the Lord that the kids are not home right now…
“Hmaahh! Nhhaahh!! Daddyyyy, Daddyy….! Too much, I’m ‘oo full—Oooo!”
“Hghh! Hhhshiiiit, this pussy…! Try’na milk me dry, huh, sweet thing…”
Clothes have long been discarded to the bedroom floor, and the ceiling lights turned off for the natural lighting of the moon to shower the space, Toji’s nude, powerful body on top of yours as he pistons his cock into you at an irregular pace. Sweat keeps the strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and hoarse grunts evade him with every dig of his dick venturing inside you. 
The position helps him go deep into the places both you and he can’t reach, his fat girth stretching your entrance and the tip stimulating your G-spot with grazes to your vaginal walls. His jabs become more accurate when he adds his weight onto you, caging you between him and the mattress to have your chasm tighten around him more. You howl, clenching on his length at every scratch of your sensitive areas. And it doesn’t help the fact he drives himself down to the hilt, balls deep into your creamy cunt.
“Tahhh, ohhhh, good God,” your eyes shut, taking out the sense of seeing to indulge in the others. The many sensations coursing through your fatigued frame are borderline addicting — given the fact that this is the fourth time Toji’s making you come. You’re practically drowning in the scene; any more than this, you’re bound to turn into actual putty.
Toji taps your cheek to have you open your eyelids for him. “Hey, mama,” your heart skipped at his handsome, disheveled look. Emerald eyes capture your gaze, and the smirk on his face lifts the scar. “Watch how good y’re takin’ me.”
Your stare travels down to where your sex is joined with his, white fluids exiting out of you and making a ring around the base of his shaft. You can sense the come from the round prior trailing down to the crevice of your ass; so fucking dirty. It all looked so erotic and forbidden to the eyes, throbbing on him a lot more.
“Daddy, please—Mmmph!”
“What, sweetie,” his hips change to an intermittent rhythm, evoking more cries to escape your pretty lips. He examines every feature in your expression, admiring how sexy you look under his bow. “Tell Daddy what you want.”
It hurts to think, but you try to muster a response despite your head going through such a haze. “Let me c’mmm on you, pleaseee!”
“Good girl,” he stops moving his pelvis to maneuver, standing on his knees, removing your legs from his shoulder to lie them down. Toji then comes from behind you, scooping you to his side for your body to mush with his in for a cuddle. You gasp at him inserting his cock back in, humming at the stretch of his girth that fills you up and scrapes your upper wall.
Toji returns his pelvis in thrusting motions, and your head rests on his forearm. The push of his dick grinding against your velvety texture has you squeaking in high pitches, a hand finding purchase on his rocking hip. 
“Fuck,” he observes you, looking so effortlessly gorgeous by his side — he missed this so fucking bad, having you near him like it’s where you belonged. The hand you’re resting on comes around to cup your breast, fondling the mound lovingly, which makes you arch to him more. His free hand brings your chin to him, “So fuckin’ beautiful fr’ me, baby…”
The kiss makes you clamp onto him tighter, and Toji reacts by dialing the speed. He trails his lips to your cheek and the crook of your neck to lay more kisses and suck on your skin. The hand on your breast squeezes it, occasionally pressing down on your nipple with his forefinger. Yet it doesn’t distract you from the constant stimulation of your G-spot, screaming and toes curling from the diligent strokes against the wall of your vagina.
Your brain turns into mush, spit coming down your agape lips, and your brows furrow while Toji squishes your cheeks. “Ohhh, Daddy, right thereeee, I’m so close…!”
“Me too, sweetie, a lil’ bit more…—Aiishh!” He can feel it, his length pulsating inside you when your orgasms climb together. He brings your mouth back to his, taking your delicious screams when your bodies lock in together to climax. 
A few more harsh thrusts to your ass, and Toji spurts his load into you, sinking into the pleasurable sensation of your folds contracting around his girth. Your hand scratches his hip, muffled howls taken by him while the hand on your breast sneaks away to grasp your hand, fingers intertwining to seek connectedness. 
Quivering bodies soon calm down when the wave of their finish is finally gone, and you two sigh deep into a passionate kiss. It breaks with a soft noise while he nibbles on your lip before letting go. “Toji,” you said his name in stifles, your hand caressing his sweaty cheek.
The older man huffs, placing his hot palm on your cheek to stroke in return. “Yeah, mama?”
“Sleep,” you demanded with a sigh, fatigued eyes and trenched brows. The single word has you both chuckling in the hot air between you before he kisses you gently one last time. Exhaustion takes over you both, Toji bringing the comforter to put around your bodies, laying his head on the pillows as you rest yours on his arm, your hand still held with his.
His free hand guides you to be pressed up against him, his cock still inside your creamy cunt. He’s comforted by the snug of your walls and the flesh of your body molding with his hot, sturdy frame. Sleepy green eyes go to the creek of the curtains covering the bedroom window. “Maybe we outta argue more often.”
He knew that would make you giggle; the faint rise and fall of your shoulder is highlighted by the moonlight creeping through the window. “Good night, Toji.” The way you said his name sounded like a spell, closing his eyes at the somnolent tone.
“Night, baby.”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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specshroom · 2 months
Text
*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*
Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?
In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄
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You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.
The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.
Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.
The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.
Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.
"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.
He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.
"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"
The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.
"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"
Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.
"Hey!"
"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.
You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,
"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."
The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.
"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.
It's quiet for a minute until you ask.
"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."
The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.
"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."
"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.
"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.
"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.
"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"
You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.
You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.
"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.
He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.
"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.
Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.
"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."
You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.
"You're serious?"
You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,
"This is what I do."
The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.
"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.
"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."
"We?"
"Alright! Alright."
"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"
Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.
"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."
"...Alright. That sounds good."
You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."
"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."
He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.
"Cmon. Sit."
You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Now?"
He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.
"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."
You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.
You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.
"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."
He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.
Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,
"can I sit?"
He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."
You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.
Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.
An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.
"That should do it."
You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.
"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."
Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"
He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.
"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."
Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.
"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"
You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.
Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.
You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.
This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"
You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.
You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.
You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.
You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.
"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.
"Nononono, Please no. Please."
Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.
"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.
"I need you."
Your heart jumps in your chest.
"I need you to fuck me...please."
You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.
"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."
"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"
You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.
All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.
"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""
You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.
"I've got you big guy."
You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.
Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.
You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.
You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.
After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.
You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.
"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,
"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."
You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.
"You're a size queen."
You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.
"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."
You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.
"Shut up, you're the one with the-"
"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."
Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.
"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"
He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.
"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"
You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.
"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"
"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."
You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.
"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."
He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.
You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.
"If you ask nicely."
He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.
You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.
"Please fuck me Grim."
Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.
You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.
He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.
It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.
You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.
You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.
Knock knock knock
You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.
Knock knock knock
"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"
The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.
"BOY! What do you want?!"
You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.
"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"
Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.
"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."
"But I was-"
"Tomorrow."
The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.
"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"
Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.
"Thank you for...helping out"
He says, quite genuinely.
"Anytime."
You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Anytime?"
You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.
"Just unbelievable."
You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.
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yueebby · 9 months
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sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333
11:34pm — gojo satoru
contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!
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“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.
shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.” 
a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity. 
utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”. 
“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru? 
“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum. 
the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be–? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door. 
geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog. 
“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.
“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.
“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.
“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga. 
from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol. 
the male in question pouts.
“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.
“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya. 
“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you. 
“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.
“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.
you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.
“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.
“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face. 
“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.
you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.
“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.
“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.
“eh? why would i?”
“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda. 
“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.
“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely. 
his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now. 
“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers. 
“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.
“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.
“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.
“alright, alright,” you concede. 
“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.
“where do i even start?”
the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.
he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks. 
you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.
you suppose he isn't so bad.
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notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf
also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><
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