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#but anyway dads being... dads.... sure. sweats
buckttommy · 2 days
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not to shit stir but tell us the reasons u dislike t/arlos for fun lmao
TK is a little bitch. That's number one. I'm literally so serious. He's the "Buck" of Lone Star except, instead of actually being cute and lovable, he's fucking nasty and insufferable, and what's frustrating is that he wasn't always! S1E1 when he's overdosed and throws up and is crying to his dad, I was like "hm yes I will kill for this young man" but then he just became fucking annoying as hell and I can't even say what did it exactly, but it's like. Ew.
So we'll start there and then move onto the fact that... he treated Carlos like shit. Sorry, but he did. I rewatched Season 3 recently and only got about halfway through before I just... did not want to continue lmfao. But him breaking up with Carlos for buying him a house? A house he wanted, mind you. I was like.... "Okay, at best, you're an asshole, at worst, you're not ready to be in this committed relationship AT ALL and you're taking it out on this kind man who has never done anything but love you wholeheartedly." And Carlos is my baby so he definitely didn't deserve that.
And then the OTHER thing is like... Do they have to makeout all the goddamn time? And the fact that I'M saying this? Shocking, I know! I am pro-boykisser! (I am pro-girlkisser as well, to be clear). But the physical displays of Carlos and TK's relationship was so horny-focused and not even in a queer way but in a "women like to see hot men kiss" kind of way. It's one of the things I love so much about the BuckTommy kiss is, like. That moment is very much FOR BUCK. We, the audience, get to witness it, but it's chaste and gentle and careful. It's not meant to arouse or make you sweat or ogle or whatever. It's just... there. But with T/arlos, their kisses/makeout scenes feel very much like they're pandering to an audience and it makes the whole thing inauthentic. Visually appealing, sure, but nothing more than that.
Now, I'm not a total hater. Carlos / TK calling each other baby? That shit lights up my brain like fireworks. They have some mad cute moments, but even when I started watching (before I joined OG fandom and was still just bingeing), I was like "well, hey, this is just the cheap knockoff of those guys from the original >:("...which. like. well. was I wrong?
anyways.
not a fan! rip lone star xoxo
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heirbane · 9 months
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❛ i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing. ❜ One night stand between Gaius and Cid, maybe? :')
subtle starters. // @levinstrike
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The old wolf, into that sort of thing.
Gaius couldn't bite down the huff that followed the other man's words. A cloud of cigar smoke followed in its wake, bittersweet and foggy.
It had not been what he would have chosen on first glance - ... but the innkeeper had been rather insistent that it paired wonderfully with the slug of dark ale he had ordered.
As of a lot of things in his life lately, Gaius had wondered: why not?
The innkeep had been right. He was not highborn; he couldn't so properly decipher flavor notes like so many in his circles. But they complimented each other well enough, he agreed.
He had wondered if the same could be said for the man that had taken up post at his table.
(He no longer needed to loiter, mind wandering. His belly was warm but he was still sure-footed: he had no doubt that the man with his own drink and cigarette had intentions. He was old, but not ignorant.)
He took one last drag before pulling the tobacco roll from betwixt his lips, holding it out to the other man. An offer.
"Finish that," he stated simply, "and follow me, should you wish to find out."
The clink of his ale cup on the wooden table was swiftly followed by the creak of his chair. As he put a few coins tip on the table, he dared not meet the gaze of the younger man, lest he convince him unintentionally.
He was old enough to make up his own mind, but Gaius gave him escapes anyway. He had propositioned partners and then lost his nerve in his time, too: if the younger fellow were to simply leave the inn, it would not be wholly unsurprising.
But he was curious. Would his bite be as bold as his bark?
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sutorus · 7 months
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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!
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DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 
PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader
WC: 5.1k whoops!
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 
A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!
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you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 
nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 
it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 
in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 
sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 
besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 
toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 
it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 
you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 
but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.
you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 
with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 
“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”
he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”
you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“
“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”
“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 
without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”
an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.
you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 
“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”
“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 
you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.
“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”
that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 
“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”
“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 
toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 
“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 
you can feel your face flush.
“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 
instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.
his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 
he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 
you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 
you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 
he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.
you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 
so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 
“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”
“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 
“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”
toji scoffs.
“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”
you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”
toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”
oh, if he only knew. 
“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”
toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 
“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”
you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“
“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”
you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 
“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“
you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.
you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.
he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 
you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 
his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 
soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.
it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 
“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”
“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”
toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.
your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.
toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.
“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”
a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.
he noticed.
he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 
“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 
he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.
god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 
you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.
his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.
he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.
your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 
toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 
it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.
you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 
you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 
toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.
you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 
“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”
you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 
“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”
you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 
toji’s having none of it.
he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 
“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 
you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.
toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 
he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 
he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.
“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 
you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.
toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 
you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 
toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 
you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.
toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 
it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 
it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.
he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 
“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”
he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 
you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 
he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”
you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 
toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 
“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”
you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 
you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.
when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 
“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”
he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 
you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 
his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 
“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.
you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 
the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.
it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 
your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 
you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 
“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”
“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“
“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.
“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“
“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 
you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 
he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 
“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”
“ahh, toji—“
“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”
“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 
“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 
“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”
“d—daddy?” 
toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”
it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 
he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 
he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—
toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 
you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 
“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”
toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 
“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 
there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 
he grunts, speeding up his movements.
“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”
you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.
toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 
“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”
you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.
toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 
“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“
“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”
you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 
toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 
“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”
he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 
you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 
once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 
toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 
“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”
you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 
fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 
toji finally addresses you. 
“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”
you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”
he smirks. 
“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”
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A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year
Text
𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 || (kinda)dark!javier peña x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || he's your dad's best friend, he's a narc, he's the guy you've been calling 'tio' most of your life... so he's not the guy you want to run into when you're out partying a little too hard.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 6.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || dubcon smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, reader is under the influence and under duress), age gap (not specified but it's big lol but they are of course both adults), dad's best friend trope, pseudo incest (reader calls javi tio/uncle but they are not related), drug use, jealousy, unprotected sex, orgasm control, rough/aggressive sex, we're talking complete total and permanent gut rearrangement, crying during sex (from overstimulation not like, being sad), hair pulling, 'sir' kink (briefly), creampie, basically just a kinky filthy mess idk what else to say
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The bass was so loud you could feel it in every part of you— like your own heartbeat, but everywhere. The throbbing music, the heat, the sweat; it was an overwhelming experience, even before you took the pill… but now, it was transcendent.
Everything was lit up in electric colors, neon pink and green blending together into some impossible color you couldn’t describe; the dancers around you had their arms raised in the air, jumping and swaying with the music, and it reminded you of the waves in the Caribbean Sea— you know, the ones you never had time to go see even though you lived just a few miles from the beach.
Frankly, you didn’t have time for this either: you should be studying for midterms, but the stress of college was becoming overwhelming and you were reaching a breaking point.
Or, maybe you already had, considering this was your coping method. It wasn’t your usual approach, but you hadn’t needed anything this drastic before. Maybe it was because you weren’t just escaping from the stress of school, but from the tension at home with your parents.
Perhaps what was most frustrating about that situation was that you were pretty sure they didn’t even realize how badly they were driving you insane… especially your dad. He didn’t see any problem with the fact that he tried to control every aspect of your life, regardless of your age. You could appreciate them not wanting you to do anything dangerous or harmful— you could even understand the whole ‘my house, my rules’ thing to an extent— but it went too goddamn far every day. You couldn’t go anywhere else without being questioned, yet you couldn’t exist at home without being criticized.
That was why you were here, and here, you weren’t being critiqued or belittled or micromanaged— actually, you were very… well-received, to put it lightly. You’d caught more than a few glances this evening, and now you were getting more than that: they were dancing with you, pressing against you… touching you.
It should’ve felt wrong, but you’d been craving approval of any kind, and the lascivious looks up and down from the guy in the indigo silk shirt felt like a compliment when you had a couple drinks in you.
A hand covered in gold rings groped your ass, and you hummed through a wide smile. He spoke into your ear, but even so close you couldn’t hear anything— it didn’t matter, anyways; you nodded, dazed. You figured the pill was enhancing, if not creating, whatever connection you felt with this stranger, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care how risky it was to go home with him, either, you just needed to feel tonight.
The voice in your ear mumbled something about how sexy you are, and you were about to melt into the arms of whoever it was— but then you heard another voice, just behind you. This voice was familiar; this voice spoke your name, and you turned around sharply.
"Tio!" you gasped as Javier glared down at you; you'd never felt so small in your life. He could do that so easily, but usually by giving you a big bear hug or calling you niña; this was a less pleasant method. “I— what are you—?”
“Work,” he answered shortly, yelling just to be heard. “You shouldn’t be here.”
No, you shouldn’t be anywhere that Javi was working, but you especially shouldn’t be here— a nightclub, known for wild hook-ups and party drugs. Dancing with guys. Wearing a dress you picked out specifically because you liked the way it showed off your… everything.
“What would your daddy think if he saw you like this?” he growled, grabbing you by the arm, and you whimpered but gave in to him— no point arguing, or denying anything, now.
He dragged you through the club, out the back where you could talk without the music drowning everything out. It was still loud until the metal door shut on its own behind you— and even still, you could hear the thumping of the bass, catch a few notes of the melody here and there, but you weren’t really focused on that with Javi giving you the glare of a lifetime.
“Never thought you were that kinda girl,” he frowned.
“I swear, I don’t usually do this, I just… I…”
“You what?” he snapped.
“Sorry, I…” you trailed off again. “Kinda out of it right now, and you’re so… that light’s really bright…” you complained as you squinted at the streetlight behind him.
He grabbed your face suddenly, forcing you to look up at him; you couldn’t believe how he could basically hold your entire face— and control your entire body— with one hand. He used his thumb and pointer finger to hold one of your eyes open wider; you winced and tried to move away, but he managed to get a decent enough look anyways.
“Are you fucking high?” he realized with a snarl.
“I— just one pill,” you whimpered.
“What was it?”
“I… I don’t know for sure…”
“Jesus,” he sneered, dropping your face and crossing his arms. He looked away from you, shaking his head, then put his hands on his hips in that disapproving way he did so well. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I just never get to do anything fun— don’t you need to be wild sometimes, do something a little misguided?”
“A little misguided— taking drugs from strangers, from men, letting them… touch you like that…” he shuddered as he said the last part.
You gulped, looking down at the ground. You were kind of hoping he hadn’t seen that, somehow…
Grabbing you by the arm again, he all but threw you in his truck; shrinking in the seat, feeling quite shy despite how you’d been acting just a few minutes ago, you watched him walk around the back in the mirror so he could get in the driver’s side.
There was silence as he started the truck and put an arm around your seat to back out of the alley, silence as he started to drive, silence as you went back and forth between looking over at him sheepishly and staring down at your hands in your lap.
But when you looked out the window at the passing scenery, you narrowed your eyes. "You're…not taking me home?" you realized.
"And give your dad a fuckin' heart attack, you coming home at this hour— dressed like that?"
Your heart sank with guilt.
"No, I'll figure out what to do with you later,” he decided. “I'm guessing you snuck out?"
"I… told him I was staying with a friend…"
"Then he must not be expecting you until morning. You can stay at my place."
"Thank you, Tio, I swear I don't usually do this, thank you so much—"
"Hey. I didn't say I wasn't gonna tell him the truth when I bring you back tomorrow."
You swallowed, glancing out the window as your eyes stung.
~
He sighed as he shut the door, and you sheepishly crossed one arm over your stomach to hold your elbow.
Last time you were in his apartment, it was for some dinner… thing… anyways, your parents were there, as were a bunch of other people they worked with, and you were sure the whole thing would be incredibly fucking boring. It was, for a while, until Javi broke away from the others to talk to you— and he made you laugh, he spared you all the dumb questions about how college was going and talked to you about real stuff: music, dreams, life. You always felt like you could talk to him about the things you could never talk to your parents about…
But you didn’t want to talk to him about this. Especially not when he put his hands on his hips and gave you that stern glare.
“What the hell did you think you were doin’ in a place like that—?” he began but you interrupted with a sigh.
“I’m sorry— I just needed a- a release! You know?” you tried to justify.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes before he glanced away from you; you, meanwhile, looked down with shame. You never expected to feel so guilty for this— if anything, part of you had fantasized about your dad finding out just so you could tell him off in the argument, explain to him that it was his overbearing nature that drove you to something so risque. Of course, now that the likelihood of that argument actually occurring had skyrocketed, it didn’t sound so appealing. “Your dad’s gonna have a cow,” Javi warned you.
“I know! I know,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands for a second. “But I’m an adult! I should be able to do what I want!”
He scoffed a bit, and you frowned defensively. He obviously resented those times you referred to yourself as an adult— even if he couldn’t deny it, he always acted like it didn’t really count. You weren’t a ‘real adult’ yet in his eyes, still being in college and a bit starry-eyed according to some, and that always bothered you. It’s not that you thought you really had it all figured it out at this age, it’s just that you wanted more respect and more acknowledgement of your efforts.
The look on Javi’s face made you pretty confident you wouldn’t be getting much of that tonight. "Just don't tell him, okay? Please, Tio…"
"I won't tell your old man what you're up to," he promised, and you sighed. "But you need to."
"I— I can't," you whimpered, "he'll lose his shit! You know how protective he is…"
"Clearly he's got a good reason!" Javi snapped, and you spun around— you couldn't look at him now, not after he saw you like that.
"He's gonna kill me," you whimpered, defeated.
He stepped up behind you, wrapping one arm over your chest and holding your shoulder. “S’gonna be okay, sweetie…” he mumbled to you. “He’s not gonna kill you— he loves you."
"But he thinks I'm still a little kid," you explained with a pout.
"He can't help that," Javi laughed softly, kissing the side of your head. "You're grown up now, but you're still his little girl…"
You smiled a bit. "You really think I'm grown up?" you asked weakly.
"Yeah," he assured, "not sure how it happened, but you are— still young, of course."
You laughed a bit, relaxing in his embrace, soothed by the familiar smell of his aftershave and his strong hand rubbing your shoulder. Without either of you saying anything, the air somehow shifted… perhaps because of the way he moved his head, and you could tell that he was looking down at you. Perhaps because he let out a long sigh through his nose that fanned over the top of your head.
His voice was as low as a whisper when he spoke again. "Can't believe how grown up you look dressed like that…"
The fingers of his free hand traced over your thigh, even starting to move inwards, and out of both nervousness and ticklishness you clamped your legs together.
"Aww, don't be shy now," he pouted. "You'll be a whore for all those guys but you're playing innocent with me? Don't even try it, baby, I know what you want…"
You sighed out a long, shaky breath as you relaxed your legs so he could reach between them. It didn't really feel real, especially when you shut your eyes— then it could be anyone touching you.
"I know what this sweet little body needs," he continued, almost whispering as he spoke in your ear, making it impossible to forget it was Javi behind you. "Those little boys can't take care of you… need a real man to treat you right."
"Tio," you gasped as one finger just barely brushed over your panties, "d-don't—"
"Don't what, sweetie?"
"Don't… touch me like that," you breathed. "It's wrong…"
"But you like it so much," he noticed with a smile right beside your ear. "You like the way Uncle Javi is touching you— you like all this attention from your Tio, huh?"
Too afraid to respond to that, you shut your eyes tight as you felt him rub you through your panties more firmly, pulling up the bottom of your dress enough to expose the white cotton covering you.
“Still a good girl underneath your slutty outfit,” he smirked.
“What— what are you do—?” you began to breathe out, until he ran the blunt edge of his fingernail over the seam of your lips through the fabric— when he traced over your clit, your whole body jolted.
“Oh, babygirl,” he cooed, “you know what I’m doing. Say it.”
“You’re… touching me…” you panted out, rocking your hips as he began to rub slow circles against your panties— each with more pressure than the last.
“Where?” he prompted, his voice rough and echoing against the curve of your neck, which he began to kiss passionately a moment later just to make it that much harder for you to speak.
“My… fuck, my pussy!” you managed to get out, and he groaned with pride as his teeth brushed against your pulse.
He suddenly let you go and spun you around, pressing you to the wall and then pressing himself to you in turn. The hard bulge against your hip made your walls throb, but his face made your heart drop— you couldn’t forget it was him, and it felt so fucked up knowing he had just done that to you. You opened your mouth to tell him this couldn’t happen, that it had already gone too far, that you needed to somehow forget this ever happened.
But no words came out; they couldn’t, when he delicately lifted your chin so you had to stare right at the darkness in his eyes.
He moved closer, closer, until instinct forced your hands to jump up to his chest— god his chest, it was so firm and tanned and you swore you could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt— and stopped him from kissing you. “What’s the matter?” he asked softly.
What kind of dumbass question was that?! What’s the matter? Your Tio Javi, your dad’s best friend since forever, the guy who bought you your first bike and taught you how to whistle— that guy, calling you a whore and kissing your neck and touching you down there?! God, you knew you were messed up over this because you were mentally referring to your equipment as down there, like you were a little kid again.
But by god, you were not a little kid. Clearly, he knew that better than you thought he did. But you couldn’t believe this was really happening— it felt like a dream, but too terribly real.
What’s the matter, he asks, like you couldn’t spend all night listing everything wrong about this. You only gave him one reason aloud, though: “My dad will kill me.”
He smirked, a short laugh coming more out of his nose than his mouth. “Only if he finds out,” he replied. “Are you gonna tell on me, niña?”
Though very little, you shook your head.
“Are you gonna tell him that I brought you here and touched you like that?” he continued, voice lower and rougher, fingers dancing over your hip again. “Are you gonna tell your daddy how you got on your knees for me, let me fuck you like a whore, creamed on my cock over… and over…”
You shuddered as he left the softest trail of kisses up your neck.
“...and screamed my name until you lost your voice?”
"Fuck," you sighed, melting into his arms as he held you at your waist— his hands were so big that you felt especially delicate when he held you. "Javi, we… we shouldn't…"
"But you want to so bad, sweetie," he noticed with a fake pout. "You're a half-second from begging me to teach you how grown-ups fuck, I can tell."
Your thighs clenched together and he smirked.
"Just kiss me," he encouraged softly, lifting your chin with his fingers. "Just kiss me, baby, and I'll show you. I'll give you whatever you want."
You hesitated, looking up at his warm brown eyes, admiring his face and lingering over his lips… they did look perfectly kissable…
Shutting your eyes, you leaned forward and kissed him; instantly, he turned it from an innocent peck to a hungry gnashing of lips and teeth, his tongue dominating your mouth and muffling your moans.
His hands ran all over you and he started to guide you to walk with him— he turned you both and walked backwards down the hallway, dragging you until you toppled into his bed together.
"Lay back, baby," he instructed as he climbed over you, "your Tio's gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetie… gonna fuck you like you need, I promise."
He sat up, almost making you want to chase for more of that kiss, but he reached up under your dress and pulled your soaked panties down your legs.
"Oh my god, look at this cute little pussy," he purred, spreading your lips apart and tracing up the seam of your cunt to find your bud. He traced it gently with his thumb— even the softest, slowest circles over it made you shiver and whine. "Sensitive, too. Poor baby, need me that bad?"
He crouched down lower, and you whimpered with anticipation. "Javi…" you mumbled nervously.
Before he even put his mouth on you, he leaned in close and took a deep breath through his nose. "Smells fuckin' perfect," he grunted, and you moaned just because he said that. "Can't wait to taste you, niña, been waiting too long…"
You wanted to ask if he'd been waiting longer than just tonight, but you were distracted by the wet, sloppy kiss he gave you, right on your aching clit. Instantly your back arched and your mouth fell open into a silent scream.
He was painfully, infuriatingly good at this— like second nature, he just looked up at you and watched while his tongue traced your clit exactly how you needed. You could just tell he did this all the time, that he had made his fair share of women scream and sob and beg with that tongue; you writhed and whimpered, shutting your eyes tight so you wouldn't have to see him looking up at you anymore.
He devoured you with wide, hungry licks, his mouth overwhelming you and his nose poking at the apex of your mound. You could feel his long sigh fan over your sensitive skin when he kept his mouth wide open, lapping at you desperately; you’d never seen him this… lacking in composure. This animalistic. It made you feel hot all over.
Maybe the only thing more embarrassing than how quickly you barrelled towards your peak was how easily he recognized it.
"Wanna come, baby?"
He only broke away from you just long enough to groan it out, and then he was right back to making you squirm and sob. "Yes, fuck, please!"
"Beg," he ordered, muffled by your clit in his mouth, eating away at you mercilessly.
"Fuck, Javi— please make me come with your— with your tongue, I— I've never come from that before, fuck it feels really good… please…"
He hummed around you, suckling harder at your throbbing bud.
"Oh— f-fuck, I wanna— please," you choked, "I'm so close…"
You felt him smile, and then you felt him do this thing with his tongue that made your thighs quiver around his head.
"Please, can I?" you whimpered.
He pulled away, but you could still feel his breath fanning over you and it made your walls tense up. "I like you asking for permission," he praised, "do it again."
"Please let me come," you groaned, arching your back when he latched onto you again. "I'm so close, just don't stop, please don't fucking stop—"
He didn't, which you took as permission— not that it really mattered since it was inevitable now with or without his blessing— and you shut your eyes tight as the electric feeling danced all over your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you only caught one more glimpse of him staring up at you with a scalding heat in his eyes.
Instantly it became too much, the sensations his tongue delivered to your clit painfully forcing your whole body to spasm. Gasping, you grabbed at his hair and sputtered out: “Stop, stopstopstop—”
He broke away and dropped your hips back down onto the bed, his smile glistening with your come. An instant later he sat up to start opening his belt, that grin turning suddenly into a snarl. You looked up at him with wide eyes, still trying to catch your breath, dizzy even as you just laid there watching him lick your wetness off his lips. “Need to fuck you,” he said, simple as that.
You still couldn’t really believe this was happening; the effects of the pill were mostly faded, but this felt like some bizarre dream anyways. Seeing him like this was just beyond surreal.
“Flip over— hands and knees,” he instructed firmly while he unbuttoned his jeans. You wanted to remind him that this was insanely wrong, that you thought of him like family and thought he saw you the same way— but then you remembered that what you’d done tonight was wrong too, and that he was your only hope of getting away with it and avoiding being locked in your room for the rest of your life.
"Shouldn't you… shouldn't we use a condom?" you suggested softly, and he smirked a little.
"We don't need that," he assured.
Doing as you were told, though it took some effort on shaky legs, you stared down at Javi’s bed under you— you’d seen it before, even slept in it before (though when that happened, he always took the couch), but it felt incredibly different now.
Speaking of things that felt incredibly different: getting fucked by your tio. He held your hips and pushed his cock into you, and you whimpered loudly as the stretch challenged you right from the start. You heard a soft moan from behind you, a needier sound than you expected from him, but it was drowned out quickly by your own cry as he buried himself in you completely. “Mm,” he hummed, fingers digging deeper into the plush of your ass as he stayed still for just a moment. “That’s good…”
Shivering, even though you were hot enough to sweat, you hid your face with a quiet whine right as he started to thrust— with a lot less patience than you expected.
"You're not embarrassed, are you?" he wondered, petting the back of your head as if trying to coax you out of the pillows. "Actin' all shy… what have you got to be shy about? Getting fucked on all fours like a slut, the fuck you acting innocent for now?"
"Please just slow down—" you gasped, reaching back behind yourself to try to grab his thigh.
"Hell fucking no, this is what you wanted," he groaned.
Whining, tears stung your eyes and you just tried to hold onto the bunches of his sheets in your fists.
"Wanted me for a while, didn't you? Dressing up all sexy when I came over for dinner, showing off how much you've grown… didn't even wear a bra, I could see your tits getting hard, wondered if it was because you were turned on. Turned on by your Tio…"
You weren't blind, you knew Javier was attractive, and you knew he did well with women— but you honest to God never thought about him like that. He was just your Tio Javi.
And now he was pushing you down between your shoulder blades to shove your face into the bed. Whimpering, you gave in, but the angle forced his cock even deeper and made you arch your back up with a yelp. "Shh shh, no baby, need to take it all," he scolded you softly as he pushed your back down. "Need to keep that ass up for me— show Tio that ass, good girl…"
It was hard to stay like this when it meant letting his cock hit way too deep— it hurt, and you sobbed with every thrust. "Please, s'too much, I need a break—"
"A break? We just started," he laughed. "You can get a break after I come, but you're gonna be in this bed all night showin' me why I should keep your secret."
"God, you're just so deep," you whined, "it hurts…"
"Yeah, but it feels good too, doesn't it?"
Even though you somehow felt guilty, you nodded.
"Yeah," he encouraged again, "you like getting fucked like this, baby. Never had your whole pussy used? Never had a cock this deep?"
So deep that it shot up your spine and made the back of your eyes burn? No, you'd never felt this before; you sobbed with pleasure, already totally overwhelmed.
He grunted as he increased his pace, already picking up speed each time his hips collided with yours; the bed was creaking a bit, too.
"Fuck," you gasped, toes curling. His cock’s fat head was pressing into something so painfully deep inside you, and just as much as it made you want to beg him to give you a little mercy, it made you feel like screaming for more and praying this could never end.
You heard him grunt as he fucked you even faster; he must have heard you sniffling, in turn, tears falling from your eyes near-silently as the pleasure overwhelmed your body. "What are you crying for? Never had a big dick like this, huh?" he chuckled. "Then just say so."
"I never… I-I've never had a… a dick this big before…"
"Mm," he hummed with approval, grabbing a handful of your ass and tilting his head so he could get a better view of his cock plunging into your hole. "Never been stretched out like this? That's too bad, I can tell you fuckin' needed it. Went out tonight cause you needed some dick, huh? Well you got more than you bargained for, honey, it's too much for this little pussy isn't it?"
"Yes!" you sobbed.
"Can't take all this?"
"Yes, Tio, please—"
"Don't tell me to slow down again," he warned. “I know what you need, sweetie.”
He grabbed you by your hair and forced your head back. "Ow!" you yelped instinctively. "Fuck, Javi!"
"Act like a slut and you're gonna get fucked like one," he reminded you, a frustrated sigh falling from his mouth. His pace quickened once more, thrusts coming faster until the sound of his hips and thighs smacking against your ass filled the room.
"I'm sorry," you choked, "I'm sorry, okay?"
"For what?"
"D-doing drugs," you listed, "going to clubs— acting like a s-slut…"
"Fuck," he grunted, "it's okay, baby, I'm gonna— god— gonna make it all better… gonna teach you how to be my good girl, okay?”
You whimpered as you nodded. “Please…”
Another tug on your hair made you whine and arch your back, letting yourself go a bit more limp in his grip as each thrust rocked your body. “First,” he began, “you need some discipline.”
The hand on your hip let go to give you a sudden spank on your ass; you yelped and jolted, the pain somehow only adding to your pleasure a second after the initial sting had faded.
“Your daddy never gave you enough of that— discipline,” Javi chuckled, “I warned him he was gonna spoil you. Guess I was right, look at you now?”
He smacked your ass again, hard enough that you cried loudly— probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. That thought made your face burn with embarrassment. Anyone who shared a wall with Javi had probably heard his bed partners before, heard women screaming his name— why did that thought make you feel sick and sad and empty?
Of course, you were anything but empty, you were full to the brim and it felt like he might split you in half each time he pressed his hips to yours. “Once you get some discipline,” he continued, “you need to start doin’ what you’re told.”
“Y-yes, sir,” you choked out. You almost screamed when the hand that had been holding your hip slipped down to search between your legs; he grunted a bit as he roughly found your clit and rubbed it in fast circles.
“Then you need to learn some manners,” he continued, “like sayin’ thank you when I touch this pretty pussy for you.”
“Thank you,” you blurted out, your voice hoarse and wobbly— even weaker than you felt. Your hips were instinctively trying to buck away, running from the amount of raw sensation forced upon you, but you were trapped by the strength of his arm.
All at once it all changed: he slowed his pace, though he went just as deep if not deeper with each movement; he leaned down and pressed his chest to your bare and sweaty back, putting his lips against your ear; he kept touching your clit, but the circles were slower, smoother… sweeter. “S’that better, sweetie?” he whispered roughly. “Is that how you need it?”
Biting your quivering lip, you nodded; you fought another wave of tears that burned at the back of your eyes, but you were less embarrassed to cry now than you thought you would be. You’d cried in front of Javi before, plenty of times— skinned knees, dumb boyfriends, failed tests, he’d been around for plenty of that. Obviously, this was much more vulnerable than anything that had come before, and yet it felt bizarrely natural… he pulled out this side of you so easily, a side you didn’t even know existed.
“Such a good girl,” he cooed at you gently, kissing the curve of your jaw, and you finally stopped trying to stop yourself from shaking (it wasn’t working anyways). “So good for me…”
Everything was so blurry now, you barely even noticed him guiding you to lay down and roll over: you just noticed him pulling out, and pouted a little as if you actually thought he might just stop completely for no reason.
Noticing your displeasure, he smirked proudly. "Just wanna see that pretty face, sweetie," he soothed. But when he pushed back in, the new position made everything feel new— and, somehow, even more perfect.
"Fuck, Javi, s'really deep…" you mumbled, though it was deep in a different way than before— not as painful, yet even more mind-numbing.
"Uh huh?" he taunted. "Never had somebody fuck you right, baby?”
You shook your head. You had no idea it could be like this— you thought it was normal not to come, for the guy to jackhammer for a few minutes and leave. You didn't even know you could make noises like this…
"Say it again," he encouraged with a moan, watching your face intently.
"It's really… really deep…" you breathed, legs shaking as he held your hips down and tried to get even deeper; he started to grind up against you to force every last millimeter inside, roughly rubbing his pubic bone on your sore clit.
You squealed, barely able to take all this sensation, and he flared his nostrils. "What's really deep?"
"Your cock," you clarified.
"Whose cock?" he taunted.
"Yours, Javi, fuck! Stop asking me questions when I can barely fucking think!" you whined, and he laughed as he returned to his original motions.
“Just one more,” he promised. “Gonna come for me, niña?”
“Yes, yes,” you admitted through a choked sob.
He leaned down, blanketing his body over yours. "Call me Tio when I make you come," he whispered his demand in your ear, and you shuddered.
Each thrust was faster than the last, harder too, and you sobbed as heavy pulses of pleasure took control of your body. "I'm so close, I'm so fucking close," you panted, unable to speak above a whisper.
"I know, I know," he soothed, kissing your face with more tenderness than you expected or felt you deserved.
"I— please—"
"Shh, you're doing so good…"
It all collapsed at once. "I'm— fuck, I'm coming! Tio, I'm coming!"
He growled and latched his lips onto your neck, fucking you through it; your pussy pulsed in an erratic pattern, a new slickness coating him and running down your thighs. You would've been self-conscious about staining his bed if you had any room in your brain for it— but you couldn't think about anything, you even forgot to breathe for a couple seconds. "Good girl," he groaned, "coming nice and hard for me. Good fucking girl."
Suddenly, your arms wrapped around his shoulders— his broad, heavy shoulders, barely damp with sweat— and your shaking fingers dug into his skin. You hugged him tightly, maybe to keep yourself grounded as convulsions rocked through you, maybe for a little comfort through such an excruciatingly ecstatic sort of feeling.
When it all seemed to gather right in your gut, it finally slowed down and you went all but limp under him— though your arms stayed draped over his neck.
"Fuck, Javi," you moaned lowly, his thrusts faster and less even as he looked down at you with an exhausted smile of his own.
"Fuck, I wanted to make you come again," he admitted, "but I can't last much longer— you're too fuckin' tight, baby, little pussy's too fuckin' good, gonna make me come…"
"Please," you whined, partially out of submission and acceptance of your desire to make him come, partially out of excitement for a chance to breathe after he finished.
"Gonna come inside you," he warned suddenly, and you gasped.
"Wait, pull out," you pleaded, a small bit of your sanity coming back as the height of your pleasure had passed, "come on my face o-or something…"
He grinned when you said that, and you sort of regretted it. "That's cute," he decided, "but I wanna fill this pussy— see you nice and stuffed with my come— and I know you want that too, baby…"
You whined, hating how right he was, but you panted as you tried not to let the pleasure completely override your logical reasoning. "But I'm not— I don't—"
"I'll get you a pill in the morning," he promised, his voice rough and needy as he fucked you even faster— he hissed in his breaths through his teeth, almost snarling at you. "Fuck, I'm so close— tell me who owns this pussy now, princess."
"Yours, Javi, it's yours," you sobbed, hating how true that really was. "Yours to fill— you can come inside me, Tio, nobody's ever…"
You didn't even finish the thought, and he moaned as his grip on your hip tightened. He seemed pleased by the fact that you'd never been creampied before, even more excited to empty himself into you. "Beg," he ordered.
"I— I want you to come," you blurted out, not really sure what you were doing and struggling to put a thought together anyways. "Please, I want… want it inside—"
"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck," he rushed, and a moment later he stopped as deep as he could go, letting you feel every pulse as he filled you.
You gasped, almost wanting to squirm away out of instinct and try to stop him from filling you, but he held you down and kept you helpless.
"God, yes," he moaned in a breath, grunting as he started to grind his hips on yours to get himself that slightest fraction of an inch deeper.
He let his weight relax onto you and though it made it tricky to breathe, you just accepted it, finally shutting your exhausted eyes.
You were probably more than half of the way to sleep when he brought you back to reality by carefully rolling off of you; you winced as he pulled out, first from the soreness and then from the gush of sticky heat you felt coming out a moment later…
Javi stayed on his side, propped up on one bent elbow, and looked down at what you could only assume was a completely gaping pussy— and all his come leaking out.
He swiped two fingers through the mess he'd made, letting them linger on your throbbing clit until your hips jolted away; smiling, he brought the fingers to his lips and tasted his own come from your hole. "Fuck, Javi," you sighed, taken aback by the erotic, sudden gesture.
"You wanna taste too, princess?" he smirked, moving his fingers back to your pussy— but this time he didn't just scoop up what was leaking out. No, he suddenly slid two fingers into your incredibly sore cunt, making you wince from the sting and watching your face carefully with a sigh.
When he pulled his fingers out, after twisting them around inside you for a moment, they were coated in both of you. His free hand held your chin and tilted your mouth how he wanted it, guiding you to take both his fingers onto your tongue.
"Lick it off— good girl, like that…"
His praise made your exhausted walls clench just one more time.
"Taste how good we are together, baby?" he cooed. "You did so good for me… I haven't come like that in a long time."
I haven't come like that ever, you wanted to reply, but your mouth was full. When his fingers were cleaned off, he laid down beside you and wrapped you up in his arms. The strangeness of it hit you again: you, him, naked in bed… you still couldn't quite believe it was real.
"How much sleep do you need before you can go again?"
You widened your eyes and looked at him, amazed to see that he clearly wasn't joking. "Again? Javi, I'm gonna be sore for weeks already—"
"You're young, you can bounce right back," he promised, "I bet in a couple hours your pussy's gonna be even tighter than it was when we started."
You bit your lip. "I guess I can— I mean, maybe one more time, if you let me sleep a little first…"
He smiled and kissed your head, making you sigh and hide your face in his neck. He smelled the same, that's what was so weird— he smelled like he always had, the same aftershave as you remembered from all those years ago, and now you were naked and sore and used. "Okay, sweetie, get some sleep," he offered. "I'll wake you up when I'm ready to give you another load— I bet you're gonna like the way I wake you up, too."
As he chuckled lowly, kissing your neck right by your ear, you shut your eyes and tried to ignore how bizarre this was so you could rest.
His fingers gently tickled your thigh, tracing random shapes that left goosebumps behind, and whispered praises in your ear to lull you to sleep. "That's my good girl," his low, gentle voice blended in with the growing darkness of slumber.
Even mostly asleep and exhausted like you'd never been before, you got the sense that being his good girl was on ordeal that lasted more than just one night. In fact, you hoped it did.
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gracieheartspedro · 4 months
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Your Needs, My Needs
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THE PRELUDE
a masterlist of how you can help gaza
pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)
description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.
word count: 3.7k words
warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao
author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!
“Sign here and she’s all yours.”
When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 
While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 
She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 
The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 
Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 
You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 
You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.
It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 
You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 
You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 
The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 
Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 
In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 
You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 
You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 
Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”
The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 
Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.
You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 
-
When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 
You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 
A hot cowboy saved your life. 
It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 
You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 
“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”
She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”
You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 
“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”
“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”
The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 
You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”
“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”
You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 
You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 
When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 
You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 
“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”
You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 
You needed your furniture, after all. 
It will be okay, you tell yourself. 
“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”
“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”
You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”
You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 
The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 
Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 
It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.
You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 
He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 
He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 
“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”
You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.
You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 
“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”
The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 
“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”
You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.
“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.
You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 
He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”
“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 
You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 
“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”
You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”
“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”
You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”
“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”
You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”
“Well, what have you tried doin’?”
You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.
“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”
He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 
“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.
“What Texas or this bathroom?”
He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 
“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 
You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 
“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 
You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 
“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”
“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”
You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 
He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”
“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”
He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”
-
His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 
“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”
You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 
You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.
While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 
You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.
“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 
“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 
“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”
He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”
Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 
He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 
“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”
You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 
You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 
“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”
“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”
You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 
“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 
“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 
You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”
They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 
He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.
“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”
Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”
Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”
You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 
You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 
He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 
“Somethin’ wrong?”
You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.
“N-no, everything is okay.”
“Don’t look it.”
“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”
Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 
“O-oh okay.”
“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”
You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.
  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”
PART 1 COMING SOON!
taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon
1K notes · View notes
happy74827 · 7 months
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Unspoken Gestures
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[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: After seeing how overly stressed your closest friend was, you decided to take matters into your own hands to ease his load.
WC: 3,210
Category: Fluff
I’m sorry but he was so fine in the movie. Anyways-
『••✎••』
Mike was… he was something. Some would say he was grumpy, and others say he was just downright cold, but you liked to think of him as a reserved kind of person. Sure, he was a bit awkward and unassertive, but he was also one of the nicest guys you knew.
It wasn't even because of his good looks. Well, maybe a little bit, but that wasn't what attracted you to him. It was his kindness. His love for his family, his baby sister. The way he'd dropped everything for her when it became just them. You loved how passionate he was when it came to protecting those he cared about. It's what drew you to him in the first place, really.
That and his face. That dumb smile, that little bit of stubble, those alluring hazel eyes. Those cheeks, that adorable laugh…
God, that laugh. You loved hearing it. It wasn't all that often that he would laugh, but when he did, it made your heart flutter. It made you want to hear it again and again, to make him laugh so much that his stomach hurt and his cheeks flushed with happiness.
He was so sweet, but sometimes he was closed off. He didn't always have the best days or the best attitude. Being a parent to your sister for the past year would’ve worn anyone out, of course, but he never really talked about it. You wanted to be there for him, you wanted to support him, you wanted him to be happy, but you couldn't if he wouldn't talk about it.
It wasn't until a few weeks ago that you even realized you liked him, like actually liked him. You knew the feelings had been there for a long time, but they were always there in the back of your mind. Now that they were there and present, it was like a light had been turned on.
You wanted to be there for him. You wanted to be the one he came to when he needed to relax. You wanted to be the shoulder he leaned on when he was down. You wanted to be the other person he turned to when he needed someone. You wanted to be able to take some of the burden off his shoulders.
You wanted to support him the same way he had supported Abby when she needed him to. You wanted to help him, even if he never needed it, even if he was a bit cold sometimes. Even if he was a bit awkward and maybe just a little bit shy.
That was why you decided to help him take the stress off his shoulders on your day off. He didn't have much of a sleep schedule, with his night shift job and being a parent to his little sister, and you knew he wouldn't turn down help, so that morning, you decided to clean up his house while Abby was at school and he was out running emergency errands. You started small, picking up trash and setting it by the door to throw out. You folded his clothes that had been lying around and piled them on his bed. You picked up the dishes and wiped down the counters. You scrubbed down the kitchen sink. You swept the living room floor. You vacuumed the carpet. You washed the windows.
And you did it all with a smile on your face.
When you were done, you wrote up a quick note telling him where everything was before you left, leaving it in the kitchen. The house looked nice, really nice, and it smelled like lemons. You knew he'd appreciate that. He loved that smell and said it reminded him of when his dad used to make his lemonade when he was a kid.
With that taken care of, you decided to head back to your apartment and change out of your cleaning clothes. When you got back to your place, you took a quick shower and changed into some sweats. You were going to make some lunch for yourself, but you were so tired after all that cleaning. So, you made yourself a big bowl of ice cream and curled up on the couch.
You were halfway through the movie you were watching when the door to your apartment opened. For a moment, you thought it was a robber breaking into your house, but when you saw Mike's presence near the entryway of the kitchen, you remembered that you had given Mike a key months ago when he was over one night to help fix the sink in the guest bathroom.
He was wearing his usual green jacket, but the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and the collar was undone. His hair was ruffled and a bit sweaty, and he looked tired, really tired. It must have been a long day for him.
"Uh, hey," He muttered, his voice a bit raspy. His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie, and you could tell he was a bit stiff. He seemed a bit awkward.
"Hi, Mike." You greeted warmly, trying not to sound like you were excited that he was there. Truthfully, him showing up at your place was the last thing you expected, but you didn't let that show on your face.
"You look exhausted. How was your day?" You asked, setting your half-finished bowl of ice cream on the coffee table in front of you.
He didn't answer right away, instead wandering further into your apartment, taking his hands out of his hoodie pocket to rub at his eyes. You watched as he turned and dropped his jacket and keys on the armchair of your living room couch, moving around as though he was on autopilot, his mind elsewhere. "It’s fine," he responded after a few moments of silence. "Same as always."
He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck, his voice low and his eyes heavy. He looked like he was about to fall over any minute. It was a little bit cute, but you had to do something to get him to relax a little bit.
"You should be home in bed," You chided lightly, sitting up straighter and pointing to the couch. "Mike, not to be blunt, but you look terrible. You need to get some sleep."
"I had to come here first," Mike mumbled, sounding like he was almost asleep already as he flopped down onto the couch and kicked his legs up over the side. "The house was a mess when I left, now it's...I mean...I..." He stammered, his voice growing quieter.
"Hey," you interrupted, a small smile tugging at your lips as you rested a hand on his shoulder. He was warm, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders, the stress he'd built up over the course of the week. "It's fine, I promise."
He was still, almost as though he didn't hear you at first. Then, after a moment, he tilted his head toward you. He seemed almost dazed, as though he wasn't entirely with you, but he gave you a small, tired smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter.
Mike leaned back into the couch cushions and let his eyes slide shut as he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. You were worried that maybe he'd nodded off, but when he spoke, you realized he was just resting his eyes.
"Why? Why do you keep helping me? You don't...you shouldn't have to do this for me." He asked softly, his eyes still shut, as though he wasn't entirely there. He was vulnerable, you could tell, but he was trusting you with his thoughts, sharing them with you.
You brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before answering him, leaning back into the couch, closer to him. "I'm helping you because I want to. I want to be there for you."
Mike's eyes opened, but he didn't look at you. Instead, he kept his gaze on the ceiling, studying the cracks in the paint and the stain that was on the plaster. He let out another slow breath, leaning further back into the couch and relaxing a bit like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes sliding shut again as if he was trying to rest. You knew he wouldn't sleep there on the couch, not comfortably anyway, so you leaned forward and took his hand, trying to get his attention.
Finally, when his eyes opened for the second time, his gaze fell on you, and you felt like he was looking right into your soul. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other, neither of you speaking. You figured it was because of his exhaustion, but the way he looked at you was different from before. He didn't look tired or tired of you. He didn't look angry or irritated, not even annoyed.
Instead, his gaze was softer, more inviting. He wasn't looking through you anymore. Instead, he was looking at you. Really looking at you. He was studying your face, trying to see who you were and how you worked, what made you tick. He was looking at you the way you had always wanted him to look at you.
He leaned forward, slowly as if he were worried you would push him away, but you didn't move. He moved closer and closer until you felt his breath on your lips, and his eyes were fluttering closed. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his skin and the closeness of his body. You could smell his sweat, his shampoo, and the deodorant he used, and it was a mix of things that sent your head spinning.
"I don't...I don't get you." He muttered, his voice so low you almost didn't hear him. "I don't understand why you like me. I don't get it, I don't..."
He stopped, his breath still on your lips, and you opened your eyes to look at him. He was staring at you, looking you in the eyes, and you could see that he was hurting. He had always been so reserved, so closed off, and it was something you hated. You didn't like how much he hurt himself over the little things that people didn't even care about.
But, right now, you weren't going to focus on how closed off he was. You were going to focus on him. You were going to focus on Mike and the way his eyes shone in the light, how he was so close to you that you could feel his skin, how his mouth was just a hairsbreadth away from yours.
You were going to focus on the fact that he had trusted you. He had let you into his mind and his heart, and he had let you see him in his most vulnerable state. He was telling you how he felt without saying a word, and you could tell that he was trying to work up the courage to speak. You were going to focus on how beautiful his eyes were.
It was dark in your apartment, and the light from the paused television screen illuminated his face. It made his eyes glow a bit, and it made him look almost magical, almost otherworldly, like an angel or a god. Like something so good that it couldn't be real. He looked like something you were too afraid to touch, something you were too scared to break. He looked like something you wanted to protect, and he was so close to you, so warm and comforting, that you didn't know what to do.
"It's because..." Your voice was low, quiet, almost like a whisper. The two of you were so close that your lips were practically brushing against each other, and you were suddenly aware of how hard your heart was pounding. "Because you're such a sweetheart, Mike. You always have been. I like you because I know that you care. I know that you'd do anything for the people you care about."
He looked at you for a moment, and it seemed like he wasn't really there, like he was in another world. Then, he seemed to come back to you, his eyes refocusing on you as if he'd forgotten that you were there, and his jaw fell open just a little. His breathing was deep but quick as if he'd been running a marathon. He swallowed hard, his mouth clicking as his gaze darted between your eyes.
"I'm...I'm not that sweet," He muttered, his gaze finally falling back to yours. "I can get pretty rough. Especially with... certain things."
That made you snap out of your own reverie, your face flushing with heat as you processed what he'd said. He constantly said things that didn't mean the way you had. Of course, you knew that. But this time, with that look in his eyes, he didn't sound like he meant it as stress.
"I don't think Abby would appreciate that type of talk, Michael." you teased, leaning just a little bit closer to him.
"Good thing she's not here then, huh?" He asked, his tone playful. He had that smile on his face again. It was a different smile than the one before. The first smile had been sweet. This one was mischievous and playful, and it made your heart do a flip.
"Mike-"
But you didn't get to finish your thought before he slowly lifted his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you toward him, gently, so gently, like you were made of glass. His lips were warm, and you could feel his soft stubble brush against your cheeks. He didn't move at all, he didn't rush, he didn't even press into you. Instead, he let you take the lead. He let you kiss him.
His hand slowly moved to the side of your face, his thumb gently stroking your skin as you leaned further into him. You closed your eyes and felt your body relax, releasing all the tension you had been holding in your body. It was as if everything was melting away, and the two of you were left in this little moment together.
His lips were soft against yours, and he kissed you so slowly, so sweetly, as though he had all the time in the world. You had never felt a kiss like that. Sure, you'd had some passionate kisses, some sloppy makeout sessions, but this...this was different.
This was the first kiss that you actually wanted, that you had wanted for years, and it was so sweet and so soft. His hand slowly slid down your body until it rested on your hip, pulling you closer to him, but he still didn't rush. He didn't want to take what he wanted. He wasn't being selfish. No, he was giving you a choice, he was letting you take the lead and take the power.
You felt his fingers curl into the hem of your shirt, but you pulled away, opening your eyes to look at him. You could feel your face heating up, your skin burning from the blush that had formed on your cheeks, and he let his hand slide under your shirt, his fingers slowly tracing circles over your hip.
His lips were still parted as though he was ready to speak, but no words came out. His eyes were half-closed and his hair was still a mess from when he'd been running his hands through it, and you had the urge to do the same thing to him. You had the urge to run your fingers through his hair and tell him how much you cared.
"Mike," you whispered softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. His hand slid over your hip and down to your thigh, and you bit your lip at the sensation of his skin on yours. His gaze was heated, and he was so close, so close that you could feel the heat of his body and the softness of his breath. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to keep going, but you knew his schedule, practically by memory at this point.
"It's noon." You whispered, looking up at him from where you had laid your head against his shoulder, his fingers tracing shapes on your thigh. "If you don't get home soon, you'll be late for Abby."
'Yeah, I know," he muttered, his eyes finally averted from yours. He stared off to the side, but you could still see the longing in his expression, the way his lips had parted slightly, as though he were thinking about kissing you again. "I gotta take a shower too." He added.
"And nap." You pointed out.
Mike huffed softly, closing his eyes for a moment before getting up and stretching his arms above his head. He let out another yawn, the kind of big, wide yawn that made his shoulders hunch up. He still looked like he wanted to kiss you, but the exhaustion was weighing him down, and he was fading fast.
"Right," he muttered, taking his hands out of his pockets to rub at his eyes, which were looking just a bit more droopy by the minute. He didn't move, though. He just stood there, looking like he wanted to stay, but he also wanted to go.
"Be careful on the way home." You teased, rising to your feet. "Don't fall asleep behind the wheel."
"I'm not that tired," Mike responded quickly, letting his arms drop to pick up keys off the armchair where his jacket was. He shoved them in his pocket as you headed toward the door, opening it for him. "And if I was, I wouldn't crash my car," He muttered.
You paused at the door, your hand still on the handle as he stopped just in front of you. His gaze fell on yours again, and he looked like he wanted to say something. His eyes were sparkling, and his lips were parted just a little. You felt like you could see his thoughts just from looking at him, and they were just as sweet as the kiss he'd given you.
But he didn't speak, and you knew he wasn't going to. He just stared at you for a long moment before nodding and walking out, pausing only to shut the door behind him. You stood there for a moment, not moving, not speaking. You were still reeling from the kiss, trying to piece together what had happened in the span of five minutes.
But, despite your confusion and the way you were reeling, you had a smile on your face. A genuine, wide smile, the kind that made you feel like you could float away if you tried hard enough. The kind of smile that came with your lips feeling like they were about to split in two and your cheeks hurt from the stretch. It was the kind of smile that you didn't have very often, and it was a nice feeling.
And, most importantly, it was a smile that Mike had put there.
1K notes · View notes
erenthology · 7 months
Text
Assertive
Rugby boyfriend!Eren x fem!reader
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collage au, possessive but in an infatuated boyfriend type of way. Size differences are mentioned. No matter your size, Eren is bigger than you. (Note: going to be more active now that Aot is ending. Feel free to send requests ♡)
I don’t mind if you’re ignoring me, cuz I’m ignoring you. “ he watches you bounce around the room in your thin, white nightdress. 
You continue looking for your phone, ignoring him. There’s no way you haven’t searched every inch of his dorm room by now, so you finally look at him. He’s laying on the bed shirtless, hands behind his neck, looking at you innocently. That f’ckin bastard.
“Do you have my phone, Eren?”
He flashes his teeth, “ugh, baby, you have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice again. C’mere.” he pats his lap.
You sternly put your hand on top of your hip, arching it to the side, giving Eren the perfect view. “Do you have it or not?” He doesn’t even try to hide his smirk.
”Do I? I'm not sure. You should come over and look,” stretching his arms out in an inviting pose.
Earlier, Eren’s roommate, Floch, made a joke about how he can hear when you and Eren are having sex. When you told Eren, he rushed out of the room and ordered Floch to apologize. Completely scolding him like a dad. You felt embarrassed since you didn’t want his friends to think you can’t take a joke.
You know he’s just going to grab and pull you towards him, so instead, you start walking towards the door. Eren tenses immediately and rushes towards you,
‘’Hey, hey” he grabs your hand. ”where do you think you’re going?’’ he questions with furrowed eyebrows.
‘’To ask if the guys have they’ve seen it?’’ 
His eyes flash red for a second. To have his friends see the outline of your nipples through that thin fabric of your so called pajamas? He looks you up and down, nope, not happening. You should be wearing his t-shirts to bed anyway.
 ‘’Not like that, you’re not,’’ he gives you an ‘’end of discussion’’ look, but you huff and turn anyway. Not that you get far at all, he has you slung over his shoulders before you’ve even fully turned.
The con of having a rugby player as a boyfriend is that he throws you around a lot without so much as breaking a sweat. When you’re mad at him, he has this irritating habit of lifting you off the ground and cuddling you until you’ve cooled down. Claiming it “breaks his heart watching you walk away angry.”
He walks towards the bed, ignoring your fists punching at his back. “You’re such a brat sometimes.” He doesn't mind at all though, Eren has the patience of a saint when it comes to his girl, he enjoys being the one to set you straight.
He carefully lies you down on his bed, positions himself on top and grins, ‘’gotcha,’’ then smacks a kiss on your cheek. ‘’You’re annoying.” you pinch his ear in retaliation.
“Ow, hey, you know you’re stronger than you look.” he scratches his reddened ear. ‘’I'm being deadass, baby, you could go pro in armwrestling or some shit.’’ You burst out laughing over how dramatic he’s being and his eyes lit up from the sound. Your smile always captivates him.
Feeling yourself being stared at, you grin cheekily, unable to hide your smile “weirdo, stop staring,’’ brushing your fingers against his stubble. His eyes follow the movement of your hand and begin tracing the shape of your figure when all of a sudden he starts attacking you in tickles.
You’re both advancing on each other playfully, laughing hysterically. In an attempt to roll out of his reach, Eren quickly reacts by by grabbing your hands and pins them above your head. The laughter is quickly replaced with heavy pants as you stare at him naively, your chest rising up and down.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he lets go of his grip and rests his head on your chest, “you know, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable staying here.’’ he gently admits, then lifts his head,
‘’plus, I’m the only one who has a say about you in bed.” he wiggles his eyebrows.
“Gross,’’ you push his chest, apparently amusing him by the look on his face. ‘‘but it’s fine, really. I just wanted to ignore the situation, but I guess he should learn that not everything needs to be said.’’ At this, he grins and takes ahold of your chin,
‘’that’s a good girl.’’
You ignore the heat rising in your face and smack his hand away when you suddenly remember, ‘’speaking off, where is my phone? You know I need to do my nightly routine check.’’
He knows. It’s the reason he slipped it under his pillow the moment you started throwing a fit. It’s nice having the most predictable girl on the planet. ‘’You can do it later, let a man enjoy his girl for a moment. You can be mad at me after.’’
‘’I'm not mad at you’’ you look genuinely offended, causing him to snicker. “Besides, I kinda liked the whole sexy, scolding dad thing you had going on. It was kinda turning me on,” you admit, looking straight into his eyes.
His hands on your hips stiffen instantly and his whole demeanor changes. “Don’t even joke, [name] I will put a baby in you right this second,” large hands grab your ass and starts grinding your body against his.  
You attempt to leave but he drags you right back, looking at you confused. Looking down, you purr, “I really need to do my routine check,” sticking out your lower lip for extra effect.
You love to rile him up and have him mock you for being greedy and bratty. His face gets closer to yours with his eyebrows all furrowed.
“Did you just pout at me?”
“Nuh uh,” you lie and tease your hand against his belt, Eren’s eyes follow your movements then trace back up to your face, where you’re innocently meeting his eyes.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and looks down at your hand playing against his bulge. ‘’You wanna get fucked?’’ he spits with disgust, or admiration. It’s hard to tell with him.
“Know you enjoy keeping me on edge, acting all innocent when we both know,” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips. Thoughts on ways to tame you running wild in his head.
‘’Telling me it turned you on when I was commanding,’’ he shakes his head as if disappointed.‘’It's good I’m here to keep you in line. A girl like you needs that.’’
You feel the imprint of him on your stomach as his hips press you down on the bed, leaving you no space to leave. You try your best to keep your voice steady. “Just wanna make you happy,’ you breathe out. He almost laughs. 
“You know what would make me happy?‘’ Eren stands and lifts you up with him.
‘’you with my cock in your mouth.” You almost go limp in his arms from how lewd he's being. 
Giving you an expectant look, he nudges your nose with his, “are you waiting for something? get to work.” he guides you down on your knees towards his crotch. The carnal look in his eyes makes you fumble a bit with his belt, but Eren is patient. Sometimes you suspect he enjoys seeing you nervous to perform for him.
Pressing a kiss on the tip, he returns his gratitude by patting your hair in a domineering act, “make me proud.’’ he smiles, in which you relish. Keeping eye contact, you swirl your tongue around his shaft before hollowing your cheeks and start working your way down. You can’t help but gag at his size, no matter how often you blow him. 
It’s been quiet for some time now and you’re growing impatient with the lack of praise. You decide to look up at him through the tears in your eyes and catch him smiling down at you. The scene feels so filthy you can’t help but slyly drag your fingers over your panties to relieve some of the pressure, secretly humping your hips against your hand to the sound of his pants. 
He just nearly cums in your mouth when he notices what you’re up to. Shamelessly playing with yourself, mouth filled with cock, you look straight out of Eren’s nastiest fantasies, it was perfect.
He bends down and pulls your hand out from under your nightdress, “Not yet, need you to be a good girl for me.’’ Then he does the hottest thing all night, he leans down to give it a kiss. You love him. He makes you feel like a princess getting fucked by her knight.
Feeling enthusiastic again, you eagerly reach for him to continue where you left off, but are stopped yet again. Whining, you wait for him any sort of command, just to do something, anything! but he looks so unaffected it’s making you wail even louder.
 “stop whining, you don’t deserve to suck my dick.” Despite the warning, you almost do it again but stop yourself when you notice the glare you’re given. “But I really needa feel you, Eren. It hurts down there.” you were so wet it felt like you were about to explode from the lack of release. 
He's only a man after all, even he has his limits when you wail pathetically about how wet your pussy is. Now he needs to have a look. He pulls you up by your torso, ‘’does sucking me off make you wet?’’ You nod and visibly see his ego lit up.  
A thin sheen of sweat connects your bodies as he effortlessly carries you over to his bed. You take advantage of your flexibility and spread your legs as far apart as you can once he lays you down, earning a groan out of him.
He doesn't hesitate a moment further to push his face in there and peek under your dress. “such a pretty cunt, princess. no idea how often I jerk off thinking about it, about this,” kissing through your soaked panties. Your hips jerk upwards at his erotic words, desperate for friction.
“Eren, please”
He pushes your panties to the side but keeps them on. It’s like he’s so needy for you he can’t be bothered to take off either of your clothes properly, but patient enough to check out every inch of you as if seeing you like this for the first time.
Eren’s broad body consumes your smaller frame as you lie beneath him. You love this feeling, him shielding your body from anyone and anything but himself. 
 His ring covered fingers play softly with your bud, observing your reactions before lining himself against you, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. The sight of Eren being almost abnormally endeavored by your pussy as he spits on his hand and pumps his cock, increases the heat pooling in your abdomen. 
You lie still, enjoying the sensation of him rubbing and tapping himself against you. His eyes are fixated entirely on your cunt and you enjoy every bit of the attention. Not to say you’re not curious about what goes on in his mind when he’s focused and quiet like this. Like your body is art and he is studying and memorizing every part of it.
Once satisfied, he pushes through the tight hindrance and sucks in a breathe, “oh, fuck.” and finally looks up at you. His heart stops a beat when he’s reminded of how beautiful you are. The urge to hide you away from anyone's eyes but his, hits him strong but he bites it back.
Time slows for a moment as you both take each other in through half lidded eyes, and for some reason, your vision has never been as clear. His fingers thread through yours as he leans in for a kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes are still closed. Eren grins and places one last kiss on your forehead before thrusting his way in. 
He’s fucking you with his hips, hard. Hands pressing down your pelvic, holding you still for him to ram into. The strap of your nightdress has slightly fallen down your shoulders, so he pushes the fabric that’s hiding you from him down further, and exposes your breasts. The moan he lets out from the sight is pure filth. 
‘’Touch yourself.’’ he demanded, pupils dilated. With glazed over eyes, you comply and start playing with yourself, twisting and grazing your nipples. The act drives him to lift your hips to reach deeper into you,’’really thought i’d let you walk out of my room looking like this.’’ he grows almost annoyed at the thought. 
Tenderly cupping his cheek, he almost flinches from how lovingly you’re looking at him, “You’re all I want, Eren.’’ and he almost melts. When you say things like that it makes him want to keep you to himself even more, resting his forehead against yours, he looks at you with almost a pained expression. ‘’that’s good, because i'm a selfish man.’’
 With your legs lifted around his waist and upper body sprawled on the bed, you’re essentially at his mercy as he connects your bodies in repeated thrusts. Again, again and again, the sound of him pushing into you echoes in the room. 
He fucks like a deprived man and speaks like a man in love. “Does it feel good, princess?’’ You nod with lovestruck eyes. ‘’Yeah? taking me so well. making me so proud.’’ The pressure feels too intense, about to snap.
He’s stretching you on his cock and looking straight into your eyes as he's doing it. Your body dissolves into pleasure as you writhe beneath him.
Your body starts squirming uncontrollably, causing him to grip your hips ever tighter, overpowering you in strength. You let out a loud sob and rake your nails on his back when your vision suddenly fades to black. He stares at you, astonished.
He raises an eyebrow, “did you just cum?” the thusting has stopped completely now but you felt his dick twitch inside you as he asked. “Tried to hold it in for you,” you stare back apologetically, eyes still sprinkled with lust. Best part is, he knows you didn’t. And you know it too. 
“Turn around,” he orders. You obey and slump towards the bed with your back against him, hiding your face in the pillows. “Don’t act all shy with me now, let’s see your face,” he leaves no room for discussion, so you slowly turn your head and face him. He looks so big staring down at you from your vulnerable position. “That’s a good, good girl.” 
Next thing you know, your cheeks are being spread and played with. Still high on ecstasy from the orgasm you just had, the energy to perform is nonexistent, so he does the job for you.
Huge hands angle your limp body upwards, then press down your back to create a beautiful arch, only for his eyes to admire. He sinks back inside and buries his cock in your warmth.
It’s hard maintaining eye contact with him when he’s like this, it feels so shameless, almost taboo, still, you can’t look away. He’s pounding into you, pulling your hips hard against him.
“This is what you’re making me do, looking at me like that. No one else will ever be able to see you like this,” he occupies his thumb by rubbing it over your clit. The contact is so delicate but rapid nonetheless.
You nod agreeably, barely able to register his words. “Are you close, Eren?’’
“Yeah,” his hands pressed down tightly on your lower abdomen, the scream you let out is almost inhumane. ‘’yes, yes.” you’re grinding back against him in heated motions, shockwaves of heat pumping through your body.
He snaps his pelvic against your ass and feels you sucking him right back in.  He thinks back to what you said before about him as a dad and his eyes roll back. The thought of you carrying his child inside you makes him come undone.
“Ugh, fuck.” He comes audibly high etc, covering you in his cum. You expect him to catch his breath but he smoothly regains his composure and pushes you on your back, his thumb finding its way right back to your clit, barely even getting started before leading you to your second orgasm.
You scream in pleasure as he cups your face, lips brushing against your ear. “That's it, princess, you did so well for daddy. made me so proud.” he praises as he pushes your hair out of your face. 
The lack of response makes him laugh, realizing he’d fucked you to sleep, litterally. chuckling, he grabs a warm cloth and cleans you up to his best effort.
You’re usually sleepy right after sex so this is a regular routine for you both. He smacks a kiss on the top of your head and covers you with his comforter then goes for a shower.
Once he’s done, he carries you up bridal style to the bathroom. “Wake up, sleepy.” he’s back to his sweet self. You grunt in response. “C’mon, you need to pee.’’ It’s true, so you comply and he leaves you to it. 
This is a conversation you’ve both had before, he feels no need to leave when you do your business but you’ve kicked him out enough times so he knows the drill by now. Eren changes the bedsheets while you clean up.
When finished, you walk back to the bed and he opens his arm for you to rest on, your phone lying beside him. You jump at the invitation and he hugs you towards him, ‘’what do you feel like eating?’’ he’s playing with your hair as you lie comfortably on his arm. 
“Not hungry.’’ you murmur.
Eren fights the urge to sigh. “Sorry, not up for debate.’’ He saves himself the trouble and orders for you both, knowing you’ll feel hungry once you see him eat.
When the food arrives, you end up wanting exactly what Eren ordered for himself.
‘’You’re a big baby.’’ he sulks and rolls his eyes, but feeds you nonetheless. You don’t miss the look on his face as you take a bite from his hand. One thing about Eren? he can and will fuck multiple times a day if you let him.
‘’down, boy. i’m not tryna have my guts rearranged after eating food.’’
He grins, ‘’I didn’t say anything’.’ knowing he’ll do exactly that when you’re done eating.
1K notes · View notes
sunaluv · 1 year
Text
WAGs
WAG: wife or girlfriend of a sports star
Featuring: w.ushijima, a.miya
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USHIJIMA
Ushi is dating a rich gyal, I’m all for the head cannon
You first met wakatoshi at a fundraiser event for charities involving schools and sports. You were attending with your fathers company, as he always liked to make huge donations at events like these.
Your family was quite wealthy, as you were soon due to inherit a carefully and meticulously crafted empire built by family generations back.
You floated around the room throughout the whole night, solidifying existing connections while creating new ones. You had spoken to a lot of investors, pro athletes, coaches etc.
You had gotten used to the structured, formal conversations with people, so when you first talked to wakatoshi it was kinda refreshing.
Like… he knocked you out of your automated business trance and you found yourself talking to him like a normal person.
For the rest of the night whenever you could, you naturally gravitated towards him, always asking how he was an stuff.
You talked so much and he asked for your number that night yk to keep in touch. Wink wink wink.
After that day, you frequently sat in on the adlers practice under the guise of being there on your dads behalf. But you started to hide it less when you became official.
People caught on to your relationship bc paparazzi are nosy 😒
The two of you STAY on Pinterest like ‘rich couple aesthetic’ yea that’s u.
The both of you are rich so the gifts have more meaning n stuff ygm.
Wakatoshi is sow CYUTE when it comes to gift giving like he didn’t just buy it because it’s pretty and gold and compliments your skin, he bought for some reason like it goes well with this one outfit he saw you wear in a fashion magazine, or the meaning behind the items ya know
But there’s no deep reason behind the sleek black sports car or the stack of red bottoms or the custom tailored suit he surprised you with bc he remembers your exact measurements
K maybe not the last one but still
He lurrrvs u and he knows u know, even if he isn’t as loud about it like other people.
ATSUMU
Atsumu has a big social media presence, we all know his pr team hates him
You guys got together after he would not stop flirting with you in your comments, DMs, all of it.
A while ago you posted about wanting a man who will make sure you’ll never work again and you best believe half the comments was him shooting his shot
You eventually had to give in
You were going to anyways u just wanted him to sweat a lil
Y’all linked up or whateva and unsurprisingly atsumu stuck to his word, you didn’t have to work for anything as long as you were with him, he’d do anything for you
He even insisted on carrying you into the stadium ‘like the princess you were’ where they were going to play soon, you said no bc that’s too much for u 😔
You best believe you pull up to his games dressed so casually yet so captivating with his (and soon to be your) last name draped across your back
His feed, stories tweets etc are filled with you and honestly the people love it. After watching their favourite setter thirst for you for damn near a year straight, they were happy #y/ntsumu was finally a reality
The wags of the rest of the team have this little best friend group it’s so cute. Just a bunch of pretty girls being spoiled by their athlete boyfriends for no reason at all.
10/10 athlete rich boyfie.
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brodieland · 1 month
Text
.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 always matching, now the matched ´ˎ˗
Percy Jackson x Fem!Eros!Reader Synopsis: A road trip with Percy already left you spinning, now you got a dream from Eros to decipher Warning(s): guys I said the f word lock me upp Word Count: 2061 Part 1
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It's been about a week since you and Percy brought over 7 year old Delilah back to camp. It's been about a week since those excruciating long hours stuck in a car. And it's been about a week since those late night talks with Percy, where you opened up like you never had with anyone.
You've felt... awkward? You didn't really know what it was, but ever since the little road trip your recurring dreams of your mom depressed over your dad have stopped. You hadn't seen Percy around as much, he'd been pretty busy doing head counselor duties. So was Piper, since she was also a head counselor.
You walked out your cabin and saw little Delilah sitting alone in front of the Hermes cabin. Since arriving she hadn't been claimed yet, you could tell she might've been a little sad about it, but that was normal for lots of campers. Sucks but it is what it is. You made your way over, "Hey Delilah, you feeling okay?"
"I'm okay, I just miss my dad," she frowned. You weren't really sure how to comfort someone when it comes to their dad, but you did your best.
"Your dad told me your like gardens," that seemed to catch her attention. "Wanna get some strawberries together?"
She smiled wide and nodded fast. You picked her up piggy-back style and skipped over towards the strawberry fields. "Woahh."
"Woah indeed," you said as you plopped her back down. You followed behind her as she roamed through the rows of strawberries. When she sat down by a bush, you sat next to her as you both enjoyed some strawberries together. "Taste good right?"
"Super," she giggled. "Y/N?"
"Yes?"
"Is Percy your boyfriend," Delilah ask. You let out a tense chuckle, you were definitely caught off guard.
"Oh uh, no. He's not my boyfriend. I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh okay," she frowned. "He looks like he likes you, you know."
You couldn't tell if it was the summer sun or Delilahs teasing, but you were starting to sweat. Crushes weren't something you'd ever have, to be fair they were something you'd sworn off. And as far as you were concerned, people weren't really having crushes on you. "No he doesn't, we're just close friends."
"There you are," speak of the devil. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
And there he was, Percy! "Wow, haven't seen you in a minute."
"I've been busy being important," he joked as he took a seat next to you and Delilah. "Hey there Delilah."
He held out his fist which she bumped, "Hi Percy!"
"So whatcha guys talkin about?"
"Oh nothing!"
"Okay don't tell me," Percy dragged while looking at you up and down. Before you could say anything Delilah let out a loud and content sigh.
"Guys, look! I did something to the strawberries, taste them now," she handed you both a strawberry and they may have been the best strawberries you've ever tasted.
"Holy sh-" you smacked Percy's arm before he finished his sentence. "Ow."
"You'll be so okay its not even funny," you and Delilah laughed.
"Anyways," Percy continued. "How'd you do that?"
Before Delilah could answer, wheat, daisies and poppies appeared over her head. She was getting claimed by Demeter. The little girl started jumping up and down as she pulled you and Percy into a group hug. While in the hug, you saw Percy looking into your eyes and your mind just went blank. Before you knew it Percy stood up, grabbing Delilah in his arms, "Lets take you to met your siblings yeah?"
"Yeah!" Percy treated the younger campers so well, it made your heart melt. You stood by the Demeter cabin's door as Percy left Delilah with her new siblings, watching her fit in immediately. As you watched Percy, you remembered something he said, 'I knows there's someone out there ready to love you, trust me.'
What did he mean by that? You and Percy were walking side by side out of the Demeter cabin. You didn't realize how long you were quiet for before he broke the silence. "You there? Why're you so silent?"
"Oh," you stammered. "It's nothing."
"You know you can tell me anything right? There's no reason for you to be nervous or something."
You paused for a second. "When we got back. You said something, you told me there was someone out there ready to love me, and you looked so serious. What was that supposed to mean?"
You turned just to see him smiling down at you. Before you registered anything Percy just ran his hand through your hair and just draped it over your shoulders, holding you close for a second. "Cupid really is just a nickname, not a real title. Hmm?"
You just tilted your head as Percy excused himself, claiming to still have more jobs to attended too. After a couple of hours, it was curfew time, so you headed back to your cabin to get some sleep. The dreams were back, but this was different. It was new, and it didn't have anything to do with your mom any more.
You stood in the middle of an empty beach. No, not just any beach. It was the one at camp. As you looked around and realized it wasn't so empty. You saw a girl sitting by herself watching the sunset, when a boy made his way over. They started talking, though they were too far away to pick up on what they were saying. The closer you got, the more familiar they looked.
It was you and Percy. It was you and Percy the day you met.
Suddenly the setting changed and it was dark out. You turned around and saw orange and red colors blazing in the campfire. And who were the only people there? You and Percy. It was the day you both couldn't stop burning your marshmallows. You remember this, he almost burned your finger.
The scene changed again, and again, and again. They were all past memories of you and Percy throughout all the time you've known him. Right now you were watching the late night talk in the car with him.
One last time, you're back at the strawberry fields, watching you and Percy stare into each others eyes. Fast forward, now you're watching him pull you close. Why were you seeing this?
You and Percy disappeared, but you stayed back in the middle of camp. You looked around, but saw nothing.
"I know what you want, my girl." "People don’t change, not really."
"Who are you," you called out.
"I've been watching you. You're quite the stubborn one aren't you?"
You stoped moving for a second, "Dad?"
"Why are you denying love for yourself? Why aren't you allowing yourself to enjoy something like love?"
"You saw what you did to mom, why would I let myself fall in love like that," anger started to seep into your voice.
"Oh my dear. How naive you are, love is a natural force. As natural as fear, it cannot be avoided as much as you try."
Your breathing started getting faster, you started hearing Eros' voice come closer from behind you. When you turned around, you saw something flying towards you.
It was an arrow, landing straight in your heart.
You sat straight up in your bunk, covered in sweat. You were breathing hard as you looked around, making sure you didn't wake anyone else up. You checked your window and saw it was still dark out, probably uaround 3AM. You quietly slipped out of your bed and made your way to the bathroom. You stood there staring at yourself in the mirror.
An arrow landed straight through your heart. Your heart started beating faster, the sweating getting worse. 'Love is as natural as fear', you've never felt love, and all you're feeling right now is fear. You didn't want to end up like your mom. You know what Eros was saying when he was showing all the memories with Percy. And you didn't want to say it out loud. You looked down and saw your hands shaking. You took a deep breathe before heading back out and go to bed. Keeping yourself up wasn't going to make you feel better, so you just fell back asleep.
The next morning you woke up by getting violently shaken awake. "Hello???"
You groaned as you sat up, meeting with a pair of beautiful sea-green eyes. "Finally your up, you missed breakfast you know."
"Oh-" you started stammering over your words. That dream really messed with your mind. You really needed a shower, the sweating was getting out of control. You may have had a problem.
"Y/N, are you okay? You look a little.. red? Are you sick," Percy asked as he brought his hand and placed it on your forehead. You swatted it away and quickly made your way to the bathroom, again.
"I'm fine," you ran into the door, and Percy just couldn't help but stare at you confused. You just opened it and locked it behind you, hoping to wash off your embarrassment in the shower.
You wanted to spend the rest of the day avoiding everyone. Everywhere you walked, you saw a spot from your dreams, or a spot you made memories with Percy. Percy. Stupid Eros. You decided to just ignore the dream, put a bathing suit on and relax by the beach. The sound of the ocean calmed you, no matter how much they reminded you of Percy. Or maybe that's why you liked them so much.
As you sat with your knees to your chest, you saw a shadow looming from behind you. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know whose toned figure was approaching behind you.
"Hey Percy," he took a seat next to you, mirroring the way your sat.
"Hey Y/N," he greeted as he stared out toward the ocean. You both sat in silence enjoying the scene in front of you. "What's up with you?"
You were quiet, feeling conflicted on whether or not telling him of your dream. "Getting over your fears isn't as easy as people say."
One thing you love about talking with Percy, is that he just listened. Never asked a million questions, or cut you off, or made you feel any less when you opened up. He just listened.
Love. You just said love.
"I had a dream," you turned to see him looking at you, eyes encouraging you to continue. "It was Eros, he was trying to tell me something. I mean the message was pretty clear, he shot an arrow through my fucking heart."
You chuckled and Percy looked a little confused. "It scared me."
"Wanna talk about the rest of the dream?"
You watched the waves for a moment before continuing. "It just started with a bunch of memories of us, from when we first met to now. He called me naive. Naive, for thinking I can avoid falling in love. It's funny, that's what I called everyone else in love. Naive."
"What are you saying," Percy asked softly.
"I'm saying, to be in love is to be dumb and afraid. And I'm stupid and terrified," your eyes started stinging, though nothing fell out. "You know, my brain just goes blank when I look at you. I think I'm going a little crazy."
Percys put his legs in criss-cross apple sauce and turned directly to you. He held his arms out for you. You hesitated before going close and laying into Percy's chest. "Sounds like you might just be in love."
"With you," you whispered into Percy's chest.
"Hmm?"
"With you," you sat up and looked into Percy's face. "I'm in love with you, Percy. You told me to trust you, to trust you that someone was ready to love me. Did you mean you?"
He smiled, "I'm glad your not actually that dense." You just rolled your eyes, "Yeah, I was talking about me."
"Your not gonna disappear on me are you?"
"You couldn't pay me enough," you laughed softly at his answer.
"Can you, just, kiss me already," lots of things can change in less than two weeks.
One whose fear is someone she loves leaving her behind. Another whose fatal flaw is loyalty. What a pair.
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i-cant-sing · 10 months
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Okay but like you guys know how Toji killed Riko Amanai because she was the star plasma vessel and he hates the Jujutsu world?
Imagine that after killing Riko and just narrowly escaping Gojo and Getou, promising to kill every Star plasma vessel just to spite them, he has a daughter- you, and its revealed that you're the next star plasma vessel, a perfect match for Tengen to merge with and prevent forced evolution, and now Gojo and Getou are sent put to capture you and bring you to Tengen.
And they go, not because they want to bring you to Tengen, but because they want to protect you from Toji, only to find out that you're his daughter that has him wrapped around her tiny finger and oh oh THE HYPOCRISY???? So as long as you're his daughter, TOJI WONT KILL THE STAR PLASMA VESSEL?????
Ans Toji's all like- "ohh you guys don't need to worry about Y/n, I'll take care if her and protect her from anyone and everyone. Yall better leave rn unless you want to have a horrible death." Meanwhile, toddler reader is just in her own little world as she's spinning around in circles because it's fun when the world is spinning and makes her stumble.
Anyways, Gojo and Getou don't believe him, and even if they did, they won't just let him go that easily because fuck that guy, he killed a teen and now has the gall to stand there like he didn't kill an innocent kid.
And Gojo is all like "fuck that, we gonna kill your kid too bitch." He's not, but he's gonna make sure Toji feels scared and doomed before dying.
Immediately, Toji has whipped out all of his weapons, pushing you behind him, and just then, out of thin air, the entire Zenin clan appears to Toji's aid because yes, they hate Toji too, but they adore you and they eint letting white haired bitcha and his emo Buddha bf take you.
As the battle begins, there's someone from the clan who's keeping you safe, moving you away from the battle ground so that you don't end up getting hit, and obviously, they put some headphones and sensory videos on their phone to keep you distracted from the fight. Meanwhile, there is absolute chaos on the field, Getou and Gojo being merciless as they kill one clan member after another.
Eventually, one of the attacks ends up blowing away your "bodyguard" and you're just there alone, unattended and unsupervised, so naturally, you look to the ground and see Gojo wielding Hollow Purple, and you don't know what that is except for a purple orb and since your dear uncle Naoya had been forcing you to take tutoring from the best teachers in tge world, you had learned color theory and immeadiately, without knowing the consequences of your actions, you throw out a yellow orb directly at the purple orb because you were taught in art class that "yellow cancels out purple", but now everyone is looking at you like "did a kid just- neutralise the most powerful Jujutsu technique???? Without so much as breaking a sweat?" And you're just giggling nd jumping up and down, calling out to Naoya "see uncle Naoya??? Those classes were not a waste of money!"
And that's when everyone noticed-
You're alone.
Naobito is immediately yelling at Toji to "collect your chaotic child before she reveals more of her powers and becomes everyone's target!" And Gojo is like "??? Um wtf?? Did a child just beat me???", while getou is springing into action to get his hands on you before Toji can.
Toji beats him to it, grabbing you with one hand while the other pulled out his sword. Getou summoned his own curses to help him attack Toji and simultaneously save you. As the two began fighting, Gojo sent another attack to Toji, who in an attempt to save you, shielded you with his body while taking the impact of hit.
As Toji was down, you were taken away from him by Getou, and while you didn't understand just what happened to your dad, you were becoming distressed as he didn't respond to you. And with your distress came a change in your cursed energy, which Getou recognised and he knew sooner or later, you will have an outburst of energy and hurt everyone in the process, because you're just a kid who doesn't how powerful she is.
So, yanking on Gojo's shoulders and telling him to leave the other members of the clan because they need to leave right now, the three of you teleported out of there.
Anyways, Gojo and Getou decide to take you in because there's no way they're giving you to Tengen, and taking you back to the Zenin clan was also out of the question, AND not to mention, they want to discover more about your cursed energy and help you control it. I mean, Getou wants to help you learn your powers and also give you a normal childhood, Gojo is slighted that he got beat by a child who didn't know what she was doing and he's low key concerned if you're gonna be a threat in the future. So... why not just take you in, and act like your parents because you're a gullible child who'll believe anything, and really has the attention span of a goldfish.
And at first, things were great because Gojo was like a chaotic parent who adored bullying you, while Getou was the calm and collected parent who helped you calm down as you swore you were gonna Hollow Purple Gojo if he kicks the back of your knees one more time. But everything changed when Getou parted ways with Gojo because he wanted to "kill humanity because they're all selfish and cruel🥰" and Gojo was like "babe, no, it's my job to be the sadistic one as a joke and you're the one who's supposed to laugh and say no, humans need us to protect them🥺" but Getou is like no, fuck that. And then Getou is like, well you can give Y/n to me because I love children and I love taking care of her, and Gojo is like "no." While holding a very struggling child that wants to scratch his face off, and Gojo only said no initially just so that there's something for Getou to come back. He knows how attached and fond Getou has grown over you. But Getou just sighs and goes "aight. Shared custody it is then. See you in 8 months, Y/n! Give your papa a kiss🥰" and you do.
And yeah, everyday since Getou departure, you can see the changes in Gojo's behaviour. It's not bad exactly, he's depressed for sure, and he's doubting his principles every step of the way, BUT he's kinder to you and to humans in general now. Meanwhile, whenever you do meet papa Getou, with Gojo's supervision cause my man doesn't trust Getou to not take you away and turn u into a killing machine, you can see the changes in Getou's personality too. He may still have that same kind, noble, shaman facade going on, but you see the way he looks down on the weak and on the non sorcerers. You see how he uses people as means to achieve his ultimate goal. Sure, you can also see that he still adores you, but you... dont know if you still love him with his view of the world.
Then one day, it happens. Gojo has finally killed Getou, not because of any ill intent, but because he simply threatened his students and the innocent people of Japan. And even though you knew this day wold eventually come, you still didn't forgive Gojo for a long time. You cried and fought against him, until Gojo had to eventually knock you out just so that your breakdown wouldn't unleash cursed energy and endanger everyone.
After Getou's death, Gojo's behaviour towards you and in general did a whole 180. He became the kinder, softer, gentle parent towards you. The empathetic teacher who pushed you but also consoled you when you failed, instead of the previous Gojo who would ridicule you for failing to master a technique.
Getou's death had definitely changed Gojo in other ways too. He had become more protective of you, always keeping you around because he couldn't bare the thought of losing someone else (Riko, Getou, etc). He keeps a close on you, watchubvvyour development and progress like a hawk because he knows you will soon be wanting to help him on missions, or worse, go solo. He doesn't want that, he can't have that. So the more you push Gojo to let you be independent, the more he tells you to sit down and practice more because you're just not ready yet.
Then one day, you reach your braking point and just- leave when Gojo is busy with his students. And this turned out to be a big mistake because the moment you had left Jujutsu High, it seemed like you were surrounded by thousands of enemies. Everyone wants to either kill you or capture you, and you don't even know why (because Gojo never revealed to you about your family or you being the star plasma vessel). Fortunately, you had trained enough to fight these assassins, and by the time you were done, you were tired and wanted to return back to Jujutsu High, but before you could, someone knocked you out.
When you woke up, you were lying in bed in a traditional Japanese home. Soon, a man with blonde hair came in, introducing himself as your uncle Naoya. He revealed who you were, how he was your family, how he saved you from Gojo, the man who stole you and killed his family members.
Of course, you call bs because why wouldn't you?? Naoya gives major prick vibes without trying so yeah, you didn't trust him at all. Then he pulled out pictures of you, of Toji and everyone else, and you vaguely remembered them, but not enough to believe him because Naoya could just be manipulating you to be compliant for human trafficking.
And then he takes you to another room, on the way you see a lot of other people who are looking at you fondly and have tears in their eyes, they seem like they want to say something or touch you, but Naoya glares at them to move away. Eventually, you reach a door and on opening it, you see a man sitting on a wheelchair, looking away from you.
"Who's that?" You asked as Naoya gently pushed you in. He walked towards the man, turning his wheelchair around and your breath hitched-
"Y/n, meet Toji, your-"
"Dad?" You whispered, recognising him as memories flashed through your mind. How- how could you have forgotten him all these years?
Tears began flowing down your face as you saw his miserable state- his face emotionless, the man was missing an arm, and he looked pale and weak.
"Gojo did this to him." Naoya began. "While your father was fighting, Gojo tried to purple Hollow you. But Toji took the hit instead, protecting you. He almost died that day, but with a little cursed energy, we were able to save him." He sighed, patting Toji's shoulder. "Unfortunately, he is paralysed. The cursed technique we tried to save him, has sent him into a vegetative state. He can't move, can't speak, doesn't even react."
More tears fell as you began questioning if Gojo really did this. Then again, if he was so innocent, why did he never tell you who your father really was.
"Why- why did you bring me here?" You asked.
Naoya scoffed. "Why wouldn't I? I had to save you from that monster. Look at what he did to your father! How could have I just leave you with him? You belong here, with your family, with your clan!"
"I cant- I can't stay here." You said, tearfully.
"Why not?"
"Because Gojo will find me. And when he does, he will hurt you all. I- I can't have that-" but Naoya pulled you into a hug as you began sobbing into his chest, heart heavy with guilt at the sight of your father.
"Shh, its okay. This is not your fault. You didn't do this, Gojo did. Which is precisely why you must stay here, with me and with your father. Besides, you don't need to worry about Gojo. I'm not a weak sorcerer, yknow? And not alone either. Plus, I remember you neutralising Gojo's attack pretty easily as a child. I'm sure you're better at it now. Obviously, not better than your uncle, I mean who are we kidding? No ones better than me-"
Yeah, you're remembering Naoya alright now.
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Meanwhile, Gojo is losing his mind and is on a murder spree through Japan to find you. He doesn't even know who fucking took you, and Naoya may not be as strong as Gojo, he is pretty good at hiding, like a rat.
Besides, Gojo isn't the only who's looking for you.
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candy-rat · 4 months
Text
☀️ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✧Puppy Love✧
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♡ Percy Jackson x Fem!Apollo Reader
♥︎ Summary: you attempt to teach the cute boy you may or may not have some feelings for how to better work a bow and arrow. || Percy blurb!
☆ Warnings: None!
(ofc i know the relations between Apollo, Zeus, And Poseidon but the readers relation w Percy and the reader is the same w him and annabeth so use that info as u must) 
★ A/N:  I’ve only ever read the first and a bit of the second book + the two movies so this is based off the new series(Walker Scobell) + plus I have the BIGGEST crush on Walker Scobell.
♪ Credits: Ty Bunny’s RPH for the divider<3
+Barely Proof read
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It was another sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, kids either chasing each other around or actually putting effort to train and what nots.
Surprisingly the archery field was as empty as ever, which is why you find yourself here.
As the daughter of Apollo you tend to neglect your gift of archery rather finding yourself in simple socialization, but today you thought differently.
Your dad would be proud, wouldn’t he?
As you were in the middle of your archery session you swore you heard the sound of bushes rustling.
The sudden noise caused you to turn around, trying to identify where the noise was coming from.
You were met with the sight of a boy.
Not just any boy.
Percy Jackson.
With earlier memory you can recollect, the boy was definitely not the best with a bow and arrow, so why would he be here?
“Uh, hi” the boy spoke up.
“Oh uh, hi?” You responded in a confused yet optimistic tone.
There was an awkward silence for a moment.
You’ve seen the boy on multiple other occasions, you never really talked to him before.
To be honest with yourself, you probably had the slightest crush on the boy.
The tiniest one of course, you barely knew him.
“So, do you need something? Or?” you spoke, breaking the silence.
“Oh! Uh yeah I did, yeah.” He replied with a slight crack in his voice.
Another moment of silence.
“Uhm, what do you need, uh Percy was it?” You questioned.
You didn’t need to ask, of course you knew his name.
It’s not creepy, word just gets around you know?
“Yeah uh that- that’s my name, you’re (Name) right? Daughter of Apollo?” He asked.
“Oh yeah, that’s me.” You replied.
“You’re like really good at archery right?” He asked once more.
“You could say that, being the daughter of Apollo kinda you know comes with it, but my older siblings are definitely better.” You confirmed.
“Well I was uh wondering-“ he responded.
“Mhm?” You simply hummed in reply.
“If you could, i don’t know uh teach me how to get better at archery?” He finally let out.
You looked at your bow and back at Percy.
You wonder exactly why he asked you.
Maybe he just came here in hopes to ask the first person he sees, or maybe he was looking for you specifically.
That’s a nice thought.
“Really?! Okay, I don’t mind!”you replied.
“You don’t?!” He replied.
“Of course not! I don’t have much to do anyway.” You giggled.
Before anything you told him the basics, how to stand, how to correct your breathing, and how to aim better.
The day went on.
Percy missed the target completely most times.
But once he finally got remotely close, you had to say you were proud of the blonde.
You were happy to even spend time with him.
“There you go Percy! That was great, you’re getting better!” You chuckled, swinging you arm over his shoulder squeezing him a bit.
He froze at the sudden contact for a moment.
“Thanks! I really c-couldn’t have done it without you, you know!” He went on blushing.
“Awe don’t sweat it, it comes naturally so I never need to put much in to it, but thanks!” You thanked the boy, feeling your face heat up.
Percy handed you the bow back queuing the end of your lesson.
“You know if you ever want me to teach you again I’d be happy to, just swing by cabin 7 I’m usually there.” You mentioned.
“Yeah sure, but about that-“ he started.
“About what?”
“Well uh, seeing each other again you know? Like not during training” He blushed.
“O-oh! Yeah i wouldn’t mind at all, I enjoy your company!” You responded.
“Really?!” Percy added.
“Yeah really.” You confirmed.
“I uh- like being around you too.” Percy smiled.
The two of you got along perfectly.
Like a puzzle piece.
You definitely had a crush on him.
He might like you back.
Percy definitely is too scared to confess anytime soon.
And maybe that’s good.
Love takes time.
Especially puppy love.
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A/n: innocent puppy love is deff the vibe I’ll always go for with my Percy fics so hopefully I’ll have time to do more      (Miles 42 fic in the making!!!!)<3
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hina-hina · 1 year
Note
Perhaps when you’re ready can you write a Ghost and Soft!Reader and their child?😭❤️ I love your writing by the way!❤️❤️
Hello friend!! This is such a cute idea to go along with the soft!Reader series!! I'm so happy with how well received that post is and I'm loving everyones comments and ideas (ノ*ФωФ)ノ Hope you enjoy this one, thank you for requesting and I'm glad you like my writing!! (I put aside my final paper for class so I could post this today o_o)
I guess this is kinda a series now so chronologically it goes Soft!Reader post, Ghost getting secretly married post, then this one!
|| Ghost and Soft!Reader with a Child ||
Warnings: cursing, labor mentions, some angst
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Ghost had been on deployment when you found out you were pregnant
You were shocked an unsure of how Ghost was going to react when he found out
but also really excited
Despite the two of you doing video calls whenever he could, you kept it a secret until he got back from deployment
You put the pregnancy test in a small gift box and wait for him to arrive
You are filled with anxiety all day, worried about what his reaction would be
When he comes in, you can already tell he is extremely tired so you don't want to bombard him immediately
So you hug him when he comes through the door, pull up his balaclava, and give him a few soft kisses
He immediately relaxes, happy to be home
You instruct him to go take a shower and he goes without fuss
When he comes back out in a simple black t-shirt and sweats, his wedding band still attached to its chain hanging from his neck, you feel your heart skip a beat
"Sit down," You instruct
"Awful bossy this evening, aye?" He teases, but does it anyway, small smile on his maskless face
"Hush!"
You present the small box to him, biting your lower lip nervously
He raises an eyebrow, large hands coming up over the box as he shifts his eyes between it and you
He opens it gently, staring at the small device for a moment before his eyes widen
"Your...."
Sets the box aside and immediately stands
"Your being serious?"
You simply nod and his eyes shift down to your stomach before he grabs you into a hug
He would be scared and distant at first, he would need time to process
I do think he would be good with kids
Once you two talk it out, he would become completely on board
Ghost is a girl dad, fight me
Would be so nervous when he goes to appointments with you
He Is so used to the good things in his life being taken away,
When he learns its a girl, he becomes slightly uneasy
He's not sure how he's gonna be with a kid period but knowing its a girl? He is terrified
Nonetheless, he finds himself buying things that he thinks you would like for the baby anyway
would hate it if he had to go back onto deployment before the baby is born
You reassure him you'll be fine and he reassures you he will be back for the birth
An ultrasound picture is placed alongside the picture of you in his breast pocket
Eventually tells his team he's going to have a baby and they are in shock, even more so than before
Imagine you go into labor early and he almost misses it
He shows up still in uniform (minus the weapons bc there isn't anyway he is getting into a hospital with all that on) and black grease paint still smudged around his eyes
But, damnit, he's there
Is scared shitless during labor
He doesn't want anything to happen to either of you
But you deliver the baby and it's handed to him and she looks so small in his hands o(*////▽////*)q
Tears fill his eyes and he feels his cold heart thaw a little more
He gets leave for a little while to take care of you and the baby
He doesn't want to leave you two but you reassure him that you know his work is important
You make him promise to always come back to the two of you
The little girl grows up looking up to Ghost a lot and he feels he doesn't deserve it but loves it anyway
Whenever he comes back, he wants to spend as much time with the two of you as possible
He sends her letters that you read to her before bed
She helps you make care package and includes her drawings
A third picture is put into the pocket, one with all three of you
He brags about all of his daughters accomplishments to his teammates
Imagine one day he decides to surprise her at school when he comes back home
So after you drop her off, you go and pick Ghost up
The two of you go to her school and the teacher sends her to the principal's office
Ghost is waiting there with you, uneasy about being around so many people but when he sees his little girl? He is GONE
She comes in and immediately brights, running to her dad
Immediately drops to his knees to hug her when she comes running at him
Hugs her so close, then stands and goes over and grabs you too
He has never been this happy to be home
6K notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 11 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Summary: It's finally time for your coffee date with Eddie, leading the two of you to fall even harder for each other.
Warnings: brief mention of drug dealing, Reader's grandma has dementia, character death
WC: 6.5k
Chapter 9/20
Divider credit to @saradika
The lime green numbers of the microwave clock reads 11:57, which means that Eddie will be here any minute. You drag your palms on the thighs of your boot-cut jeans, triple-checking that your perspiration hasn’t left a visible stain on the light-wash fabric.
“Okay, her lunch is in the fridge. And the number of the coffee shop is on the counter,” you tell Jess, pointing to the scrap of notebook paper in front of her. “If you need something, just call, and I’ll come home.”
Jess waves away your concern with a kind smile. She’d been pleading with you to get out there and date for ages now, and she was just glad you’d finally taken her advice. Though, you note wryly, she would not be happy if she knew who that date was.
“We’ll be fine,” she reassures you, bracing a hand on your shoulder. “If anything, we’ll need to check on you. Who is this mystery date, anyway?” 
“Just a guy,” you say, trying to remain light and casual while simultaneously fighting down the barrage of nerves in your stomach.
Jess takes a step back, wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, God, it’s not one of those creeps from a dating hotline, is it? Because I’ve never heard of one of those that didn’t end up on 48 Hours.”
“No, no, don’t worry,” you shake your head, spotting a piece of lint on your cable knit sweater and plucking it off carefully. You flick it off of your finger, silently berating yourself when you remember that you’ll have to vacuum it later. “It’s a guy from around here.”
Your friend wipes imaginary sweat from her brow as the buzzer rings. You race to the intercom to let him in before he can say anything, but your reflexes are too slow.
“Hey, it’s me.” The sound of his voice has your body pulsing, an eager grin tugging at your lips despite your intentions to keep calm. His slight rasp has you craving the sting of tobacco just to flatten your nerves.
You clear your throat before speaking. “Okay, I’ll be right down.” Grabbing your jacket from where you’ve haphazardly thrown it over the back of the couch, you’ve almost made it to the door, when—
“No. No.” You cringe at the way Jess’s words bite into your excitement. “Please tell me that your date is not Eddie Munson.” You can only offer her a sheepish grin, and she rolls her eyes. “Seriously?!”
You huff out a sigh, both impatient to go on the date and flustered at being caught. “Look, he’s changed. A lot.”
“Oh, you mean he stopped calling you a bitch and making shitty comments about your grandma?” Jess snorts. “How chivalrous.”
There’s no time to explain everything that’s happened, so you simply say, “I’ll be back in two hours,” before closing the door behind you, making sure that it latches before you start down the hallway. 
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Eddie is waiting in the tiny lobby. He’s leaned up against the double doors, tapping one Reebok-clad foot and examining his fingernails anxiously. A memory crashes over you; one where his nails are painted jet black, though there hasn’t been any polish on them in some time. 
He smiles as soon as he spots you, standing up straighter and walking to meet you before you can get to the door. “Hey,” he says softly, letting his hand brush yours as he kisses your cheek. 
“Hey, yourself.” You want to kiss him back, but not on his cheek. Your lips yearn to crash against his once more; this time, anchored in belonging rather than lust. Instead, you manage a compliment. “You clean up nice.”
It’s the truth. His gray jeans are free of any holes, sometimes intentional but often the result of overwearing. The sleeves of his red sweater are pushed up slightly, exposing the litany of tattoos on his arms, and it occurs to you that you want to know each of their origins. 
“Can’t lie, Harris helped pick out my clothes today,” he admits. “He caught me trying to figure out what to wear and we finally agreed on this.” He sweeps a hand down his side to emphasize his point. 
“Was the ponytail his idea, too?” His curls are pulled back and rest at the nape of his neck. 
Eddie shakes his head with a laugh as his cheeks tinge pink. “Nah, that was all me.” He pauses, gaze briefly landing on your mouth before his eyes are drawn back to yours. “You’re…you’re beautiful.”
You try to shrug off the compliment, still caught off-guard by his kindness. You wonder when—or if—that unease will dissipate. “I think you’re just used to seeing me with Play-Doh stuck to my shirt,” you tease, but he doesn’t break his trance. 
“You’re always beautiful.” The sincerity of his statement clings to a silence that should be awkward, but is somehow comforting. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, lifting the fog of budding romance that clouds the lobby. “Let’s go get some coffee, yeah?”
Eddie takes your hand in his when you nod, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you. He sweeps his hand in the direction of the seat, and you giggle.
“Such a gentleman.”
He doesn’t divulge that Wayne reminded him to open doors for you when he’d come over to the apartment for dinner last night, or that the older man had slipped him a crumpled ten dollar bill and whispered, “get her something to eat, too,” punctuating his statement with a wink.
His left leg bounces as he starts the engine and he grates his teeth over his lower lip. He doesn’t even realize that he’s doing either of these things until you timidly rest a hand on his right knee and ask, “You okay?”
“Mhm,” he mumbles, gliding the gear shift from ‘park’ to ‘reverse’ as he backs out of his spot. “Just, uh, been a long time since I’ve gone on a date.” And never with someone so goddamn perfect, he wants to add, but he’s stopped by the fear of coming on too strong.
You graze your thumb over the gray denim and smile at him. “Well, you’re doing great so far.”
“Yeah?” Eddie grins at your reassurance, the soft dimples at the corners of his mouth deepening. 
“Yeah.”
He turns on the radio with a slight snap of his wrist, shifting the skull ring that wraps around his middle finger. A metal song comes on that you don’t recognize, drumbeats thumping through the old speakers. Eddie winces, nudging the volume down so he can hear himself speak over the impending guitar solo. “You can change it to something you like better.”
“Nah, this is fine,” you shake your head. “Kinda warming up to heavier music since someone gave me a Guns ‘N Roses tape.”
Eddie’s eyebrows brush the edge of his tousled bangs in surprise. “You really listen to it?”
“All the time,” you confirm truthfully. It’s quickly become one of your favorites; each time you play it, you’re reminded of Harris dressed as a miniature Axl Rose, drawing a picture of you and Eddie holding hands. Not to mention the way that Eddie adoringly gazed at you while you calmed his son down, quickly throwing together an art project and saving the day.
“How’s Grandma?” he asks now, pressing on the brake as he approaches a stop sign.
“Same as always. Her aid had to take her to the hospital the other day because she fell, and she’s been losing more language.” You try to play it off like it doesn’t bother you, but your heart pangs as you speak. When she was initially diagnosed, you’d known that she’d forget who people were, but you hadn’t realized that she would eventually forget how to talk. “Good news is, she hasn’t lost her appetite for Oreos. I have to keep the package you brought over hidden away so she doesn’t eat them all.”
Eddie laughs at this. “Told you; there’s nothing Oreos can’t fix.” He pulls into the cafe parking lot and snags the first available spot he sees. “I really am sorry that you have to see that, though. It can’t be easy.”
You keep your eyes trained on the dashboard, knowing that you’ll tear up if you catch a glance of his sympathetic expression. “‘S just par for the course with dementia, I guess.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything else–he isn’t sure what to say–as he kills the engine. He clicks off his seatbelt to scramble to your door, but it gets snagged in the crook of his elbow, yanking him back.
“Jesus, shit,” he grumbles, untangling himself from the trap he’d inadvertently created. “Don’t move; I’m not done being a gentleman.”
You put your hands up in surrender, watching as he walks to your side and opens the door. “Wow, that was such a surprising gesture,” you mock him, letting out a breathless scoff when he flips you the bird. “Giving me the middle finger kinda negates the whole ‘gentleman’ thing, dontcha think?”
Eddie pretends to consider this, crossing his arms over his chest while shifting his weight to one leg, bringing his hand to his freshly-shaved chin. “Mm, nope.” He helps you out of the seat, still not letting go of your hand once you’re standing next to his car. He holds it tighter, so you can feel every etch of the lifelines across his palm.
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The mouth-watering scent of warm pastries and freshly brewed coffee swirls throughout the cafe, wafting to your nose as soon as you open the door. Or, more precisely, as soon as Eddie opens the door for you. You assume he’ll slip his fingers back through yours after you’re both inside, but he hesitates before letting his palm hover on the small of your back. You can barely feel the pads of his fingertips through your thick sweater, but as soon as you give him a smile, he allows himself to hold you a bit closer.
A chipper, twenty-something barista whose name tag reads Stephanie greets you as you approach the counter. “Hi! What can I get you folks?” 
Eddie nudges you to place your order, which you give with a polite smile. “Just a coffee with room for milk,” you tell her. 
You turn to Eddie so he can give his order, but he says softly, “Get something to eat, too.” He points to the display of baked goods before you, and you peer into the case. The prices are listed next to each item, and you furrow your brow at the $2 brownie. 
“Oh, s’okay,” you murmur, trying to play it off. The last thing you need is for Eddie to think you’re pitying him, which, okay, maybe you are. He just doesn’t have to know that. “You can get something, though.”
He shakes his head with a grin. “I’m not falling for that trick, Sweetheart.” It’s odd to hear the nickname without the prefix Ms. in front of it, or without a sneer in his voice. It’s kind, comforting, dare you even venture…a term of endearment? “You tell me you don’t want anything, and then you end up eating half of what I pick. Nope, you’re getting your own.”
“Fine, fine,” you roll your eyes playfully, eventually settling on a blueberry muffin. Eddie’s coffee order is the same as yours, but he gets a chocolate chunk cookie with his. He digs into his back pocket for his wallet, worn and frayed around the edges, and pulls out a ten-dollar bill, leaving a remaining dollar in the colorful jar marked ‘Tips’.
You grab the plated pastries and Eddie shuffles behind with the coffee mugs, gently placing them on the counter next to the silver thermoses and baskets of sugar packets. You pour a bit of milk into yours, watching in amusement as Eddie dumps some of the coffee into the trashcan, filling the mug with half & half and tearing open three Domino packets. 
“You want some coffee with that sugar bomb?” you gently tease, and he flicks your shoulder with a dramatic pout on his lips. 
“I’d rather this than whatever bitter concoction you’re drinking,” he retorts, taking an exaggerated sip from his mug and punctuating it with an aaaahhh. 
You roll your eyes. “You really should be grateful that I like bitter things. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t like you.” Your response earns you another flick to the shoulder before Eddie brings the drinks to a table tucked away in the corner. 
You set the cookie in front of him and the muffin at your spot across from him, pulling a crumb from the side and popping it in your mouth. The sweetness of the pastry with the slightly sour berry is heaven on your tongue. 
“‘S good?” Eddie asks, smiling brightly when you nod your head. “Wanna try a bite of mine?” He breaks off a piece, and a smattering of crumbs fall to the table. You expect him to place the piece in your hand; instead, he leans over and brings it to your lips. His fingertips brush against them, parting them ever-so-slightly. An electric buzz hums down your spine, and you wonder if he feels it, too. 
You’re careful not to let your tongue graze his fingers as you take the chocolate-flecked dessert into your mouth. Eddie, however, is in no rush. He lingers, slowly moving the rough pads of his fingers across your soft lips. In doing so, he wipes away rogue remnants of the cookie he just fed you, though you strongly doubt that that was his intention. 
“Here, try mine.” You pinch off a piece of the muffin, a bit bigger than the piece you took for yourself, and bring it to him. His lips close around the very tips of your thumb and forefinger where you’re holding the bite of muffin. You feel the brief flicker of his tongue, gone before you can even process it, taking the muffin piece with it. 
“Not bad,” Eddie says with a grin. “I don’t usually like fruit in my dessert, but I’d make an exception for that. Could definitely use some more chocolate, though.” As if to illustrate his sentiment, he takes a comically large bite of his cookie. 
“One of these days, I’ll get you to eat a vegetable.” You mean it as a joke, a ribbing towards his poor eating habits, but it implies that you’ll stick around. That you care about him. You’re unclear about how he interpreted your statement, so you quickly change the subject before he can think about it. “I do have a question for you. Completely unrelated to the lack of nutrients in your diet.”
Eddie ignores the teasing jab and takes another bite of cookie. “Shoot.”
“The, uh, lock-picking kit,” you start, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your nerves calm. “Do you just keep them laying around?” You hate the idea of him using it to commit break-ins. If that was the truth, would he even admit it to you?
But Eddie just laughs, sipping his barely-coffee with a knowing smirk. “When Harris was about two, Wayne was watching him. He left for a second to grab the mail and the little stinker locked him out.”
“Out of the trailer?!” you ask incredulously, jaw dropping in shock.
“Out of the trailer,” Eddie confirms, shaking his head as though he still can’t believe it himself. “So, yeah. Ever since that happened, I’ve kept a lock-picking kit in my car.” He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. He drums his fingertips on the table as he says, “Tell me about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” Eddie accentuates his request with a quick poke of your hand before returning his grip to the mug handle. “Like, how did you end up being the one schlepping out to Hawkins to take care of Grandma?”
You shrug and bring the hot cup to your lips, letting the steam tickle your nose before you drink. “She and I were always really close, and teaching is a job that’s everywhere. It was just easier for me to pick up and move, I guess.”
Eddie pauses, nodding as he considers his next question. He rubs his palm back and forth on the side of his mug; there’s an air of nervousness around him. “Tell me about her. Grandma, I mean. Like, how she was before she got sick.”
“Where do I start?” It’s strange, you think, the way memories work. Sometimes it seems like the more Grandma forgets, the more you remember. You’ll just be lesson planning, or hurriedly making photocopies at work, or heating up leftovers in the microwave, and a memory will crash over you. Suddenly, you’re plucked from reality and transported to Benny’s Diner where you and she used to split a giant stack of pancakes. Or to the shoe store where she’d buy you a new pair of sneakers every August before the start of the new school year. “She just loved taking care of people. Cooking for them or cheering them up. She wasn’t the type of person to tell you to stop crying when you’d get upset, y’know? She’d sit there with you, rub your back, and let you get all the tears out.” You muster a wistful smile in a paltry attempt to hide the shame blooming in your chest. “It’s all so fucked, the way I talk about her like she’s gone when she’s still here.”
 “No.” Eddie’s voice is soft yet adamant. “I don’t think it’s fucked at all. Because, I dunno, it’s like she’s not here, in a way. Physically, yeah; but almost like…” He stops himself to avoid speaking out of turn and making a fool of himself.
“Like she’s a shell of who she used to be,” you finish for him, and relief floods his body when you understand the point he’s trying to make.
He nods. “Exactly.” He smooths his ponytail reflexively. “I think you’re a lot like her. How she was, anyway. The way you’re always looking out for people, like…let’s say…a bitter wannabe rockstar and his adorable yet mischievous son?”
“That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten in a long time.” It’s all you want, really–to spread joy and kindness to others, filling in gaps that have remained empty for so long that they seemingly go unnoticed. “Maybe ever, actually.”
Good, Eddie wants to say. He wants to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, each one kinder than the last, until you’re utterly flustered. Instead, he abruptly changes the subject and asks, “What made you wanna be a teacher?”
This is a much easier question for you to answer. “I just love seeing kids learn,” you beam. “Being able to do things they couldn’t do before; things they never thought they’d be able to do.”
He returns your smile easily; something about hearing you speak about your profession with such gratification has him buzzing.“Speaking of which,” he says, sneaking a mouthful of cookie between words, “I took Harris to the supermarket yesterday. And when we passed by the seafood section, he points to a sign, sounds out cuh-ahh-d, and goes, ‘that says cod!’”
“That’s incredible! Look at our little reader go!” You could jump out of your seat with excitement, held back only by the desire to not go overboard in your display of enthusiasm.
Eddie nods in agreement. “I was so proud, I damn near bought all of the candy in the store.” He cocks his head, amusement tugging the corners of his lips upwards. “Any idea where he learned how to read like that?”
“Not a clue.” You try to force a deadpan expression to reinforce the sarcasm in your remark, but your happiness betrays you in the form of a giggle. You clap a hand over your mouth, but he reaches out to pull it down, keeping your fingers clasped with his.
He strokes his thumb over your knuckles, watching the digit sweep back and forth for a moment. “You really are pretty, y’know.” The admission feels like a weight has been both removed from and added to his shoulders. Now you know how he feels, but now you know how he feels.
You, meanwhile, are far less fixated on his vulnerability and focus instead on his phrasing. The opportunity has presented itself so perfectly, and you have to seize it.
“Like a princess?” Your eyes gleam with playfulness.
“Wha–oh, Christ.” Eddie’s features shift from confusion to embarrassment over the span of a second. “What did that kid tell you?”
“Not a lot,” you say nonchalantly, taking an innocent swig of coffee. It’s cooled down considerably, but you’ve never been one to let a drop of caffeine go to waste. “Just that you think I’m ‘pretty like a princess.’”
Eddie uses his free hand to rub his eyes, swiping his thumb and forefinger across the lids. “What a little snitch.”
“It’s true, then?” You perch your chin in your hand, batting your eyelashes and reveling in his awkwardness. His cheeks flush red and a nervous chuckle splices the silence between you.
“To be fair,” he finally counters, trying to gather his thoughts before they scatter again, “I was asked if I thought you were pretty like a princess. I didn’t, like, come up with that on my own.”
You purse your lips into a pout, feigning disappointment. “So you don’t think I’m pretty like a princess?”
“N-No, you are!” He takes a deep breath and composes himself as he notices you trying to hold in your laughter. “All right, which would you prefer? We talking trading your fins for legs or losing your glass slipper at a ball?”
“Neither,” you chide, scratching at the base of your neck absentmindedly. “More like…bookworm who rescues people in need no matter what the personal cost and captures the heart of the town outcast.” You hope that he doesn’t take offense to that last part, as true as it might be.
“So…Belle?” Eddie chuckles when you raise your eyebrows at him. “What? I have a little ankle biter, I know Disney movies.”
“Harris would never bite your ankles,” you scoff, grinning at the mere thought of the littlest Munson gnawing at the bottom of his dad’s legs mid-tantrum. “He’d just lock you out of the house until he gets what he wants.”
Eddie lifts his half-drank cup of coffee. “I’ll drink to that,” he agrees, and you gently knock your mug into his. The porcelain rims make a slight clink as they touch, echoes muffled by the chipped edges.
“So,” you start, allowing yourself to swim in his deep brown eyes for a beautiful moment before you pivot the conversation. “Why did you move to Chicago? Why not, like, LA or New York?”
He shrugs, wiping the residue of a coffee mustache from his upper lip. “Guess I wanted to stay kinda close to home. In case something happened to Wayne, or the music thing didn’t work out, or,” he smiles wryly, “if I knocked up a groupie and needed help raising a newborn.” 
You press your lips together to stifle a giggle of your own, careful not to smudge whatever’s left of the lipstick you meticulously applied earlier. “So you moved back after Harris was born?”
“Yeah, when he was about…” Eddie silently does the math in his head, “a month old? Six weeks, maybe? When I realized that the whole ‘parenting’ thing is a hell of a lot harder than I thought. Especially doing it alone.” He drops his voice to a whisper as though he’s about to divulge a great secret. “Did you know that babies wake up, like, every half hour?”
“You don’t say?” Sarcasm is thickly woven into your tone. “Tell me more, Dr. Spock.”
Eddie snatches the muffin from your plate and takes an unprompted bite in retaliation. He chews like a cow on cud, slow and deliberate, relishing in his baked good thievery. You watch, unblinking, as a smirk crosses his face. “All right, smartass,” he snorts once he finally swallows, “not all of us specialize in taking care of kids.” He breaks off a hunk of his cookie and leaves it on your plate, a delicious peace offering that you gladly accept. “Anyway, Wayne let us stay with him until I found a place. Took a while to build up some funds, but I finally managed.”
“Where were you working?”
His face blanches at your question, and he finds himself inclined to bunch the paper napkin into a ball and shove it in his mouth to avoid answering. “Wh-What?”
“You said you had to build up some funds,” you explain, as though it were a convoluted construct. “Were you at the music store back then?”
“Oh, um. No.” Quicksand. Volcano eruption. A piano falling from the sky like in a classic Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote showdown. Eddie would’ve taken any of these options over giving you an answer. “I went back to my old high school gig of, uh, dealing.” His cheeks are beet red, the heat radiating from them is the only distraction from the shame curdling in his lungs. 
He keeps his eyes on the floor; to his surprise, your feet remain planted on the ground. You’re not leaving. “Oh.” Your voice draws him back to reality. “But you don’t…”
“Nope.” Eddie shakes his head. “I’m totally done with that scene. It’s just minimum wage, on-the-books bullshit for me now. I even pay taxes.” He laughs when you roll your eyes. “Although…the manager is transferring to another store soon.”
You slam your hands on the table in excitement, eyes alight with joy at this new opportunity for him. “Eddie, you have to apply!” Your eagerness fades when you notice the frown on his face. Shit, did he think you were telling him what to do? “I’m sorry if–”
“Nah, you’re good.” He bites his thumbnail without thinking, withdrawing it from between his front teeth when he sees you watching him. “‘S not like I haven’t considered it. Just feels like…if I do that, I’m officially giving up on the whole rockstar dream. Like I’m closing that chapter of my life.”
This time, you’re the one who holds onto him. His palm is pressed flat on the Formica table, and you bring your fingers underneath it to scoop his hand into yours. You give it a quick squeeze, watching a delicate smile develop across his lips. “Is that necessarily a bad thing, though? You’re not giving up on anything; you’re just shifting your priorities to make sure that Harris is always number one.” He nods halfheartedly, but you continue. “And you can always get back into music, find another band, or…maybe even make up with the Corroded Coffin guys?”
Eddie sighs, taking a strand of hair that’s fallen from its rubber band enclosure and tucking it behind his right ear. “Yeah. Maybe.” He doesn’t quite believe it; not after the terrible things he said to Jeff. Not after Gareth said he doesn’t look up to him anymore. A Corroded Coffin reunion seems about as likely as Wayne becoming a Radio City Rockette. He clears his throat and shifts his gaze back to you. “This is, uh, not first date conversation.”
You laugh at this, nodding in agreement. “No, it most certainly isn’t.” You use your free hand to take a final swig of coffee, now on the cooler side of lukewarm. “But I don’t think you and I have done anything conventionally, so it seems to be par for the course.”
Eddie shifts in his seat to lean in closer. He’s heard your response, but he’s not accepting it. Just because things began backwards didn’t mean they had to continue that way. “Tell me about you,” he says. “What do you like to do for fun? Like, hobbies and stuff.”
Your mind goes blank, as though you’ve never enjoyed any activity in your life. “Hmm,” you ponder, trying to remember a moment that wasn’t spent lesson planning or breaking up big arguments between small humans or taking care of an elderly woman who couldn’t stand you half the time. “I really love to cook,” you finally manage, thinking of the hours when you and Grandma stood in her kitchen, preparing meals or snacks or baked goods to munch on.
“No shit!” Eddie blurts out, eyes widening. “I really love to eat.”
“I’ll have to cook for you sometime,” you tell him. Surprisingly, you’re not shy when you say it. The image of you standing before the stove, stirring a pot on a burner or taking a tray of roasted vegetables from the oven while Eddie and Harris set the kitchen table, warms you from the inside out. You express your love by making meals for others, just like Grandma does. Did. “Your favorite food is olives, right?”
Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in his seat. He opens his legs slightly as he bites the inside of his lower lip to hide his smile. “I hate you sometimes, y’know that?”
“Yeah, I hate you, too.”
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As soon as you and Eddie step out of the little cafe hand in hand, the bitter slap of winter is all-consuming. Snow flurries flutter to the ground, melting as soon as they touch the faded green grass. The coldness of the flakes stings the tip of your nose, and you wiggle it to try to ward off the impending numbness.
Eddie breaks the connection to dig out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from one pocket and his lighter from the other. He flicks the switch a few times before it finally catches as he shields the flame from the harsh winds. As soon as it does, he tucks the lighter away and immediately re-laces his left fingers with your right, taking a long drag and offering it out to you with a grin.
“Since you’re just a social smoker and don’t keep any on you,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. You wonder how he could possibly know this until memories of that fateful night at the Hideout come roaring back to you. You and Eddie standing outside, making painfully awkward small talk while you figured out how to initiate a sexual encounter.
You inhale, letting the tobacco mingle with the taste of coffee and muffin already saturating your tongue, and pass the cigarette back to him. It’s a slow walk to his car; the two of you take your time as you breathe in smoke and each other’s closeness. Eddie lets you kill out the cigarette, eyes never leaving your body as you stub it into a nearby ashtray.
“I have a little confession to make,” he begins, quickly amending his statement when he catches the horrified expression on your face. “No, nothing bad; I swear!” He laughs lightly when you exhale, pressing your hand to your heart in relief. “Okay, the reason I took you out for coffee is because, well, I figured if things went well, I’d know your coffee order and could bring it to you at work or something? Like when I drop Harris off in the morning.”
The early December chill dissipates at his offer. Just the thought of Eddie memorizing your coffee order, handing you the styrofoam cup with a chaste kiss to your cheek so that none of your students or co-workers can catch you, fills you with a buzzing warmth. “I’d really like that.”
“Good,” Eddie nods, stopping at his parked car. You spot Harris’s carseat in the back, reminding you of the night Eddie drove you to his place after his show. The way he tried to hide the existence of his son from you, as though it would deter you from pursuing anything further. You can’t help but wonder how many women had turned him down after learning that he’s a dad. It has to be a decent amount, a pattern that developed, for him to become so jaded and guarded over it.
His calloused thumb ghosts over your cheek, though you can hardly feel it after being exposed to the stinging air. His gaze meets yours and he holds it, chocolate orbs fueling the fire within you.
“Feels weird asking to kiss you after we’ve already…” he trails off with a chuckle, tone laced with ambivalence. The last time he’d pressed his lips to yours, he didn’t want to stop, which scared the living shit out of him. And that was under the pretense of casual sex, not intended to go any farther than a one-night stand. But now? Now he was about to kiss you after a date, after telling you that you look pretty, after admitting that planned to get you coffee in the mornings.
If he kisses you now, there’s no going back.He’s sealing the deal, opening himself up to heartbreak, the potential to be crushed when the relationship comes to a screeching halt.
But, he reminds himself silently, it also means someone to watch movies with. Someone to buy flowers–or coffee–for. Someone to hold, to touch. Someone to share stories with, from the mundane tasks of the day to big, exciting news. Someone who I could love, who could love me and my boy.
“Eddie?” Your voice breaks into his mind, overrun with racing thoughts about the good, the bad, and the ugly of falling in–
You bring your lips to his, effectively silencing his inner monologue. His right hand stays on your face as his left grips your waist to return the kiss, deepening it with a gentle prod of his tongue. It’s wanting, but not hungry, like he’s savoring every last bite of a long-time craving. He wants this, he wants you, forever. He swears he’d never let you go if he didn’t have an oversugared, overtired four-year-old to attend to.
“You are…” he murmurs, nudging his nose with yours, but he has no idea how to end the sentence. Perfect? Mine? The one for me? “...the best.” It feels like a cop-out, but he doesn’t want to come on too strong. The irony is not lost on him that he had no problem spewing insults at you, but hesitates when it comes to affection.
“The best coffee date?” you tease, resting your hands on his chest. The sweater’s scratchy wool itches your palms, and you can’t imagine he’ll make it ten steps through the door before changing into one of his signature band tees.
“Yes. No. Yes.” He kisses your nose, an electric spark flying between you. “But also just…the best.” His fingers clasp around the door handle as he begrudgingly opens your door, not wanting the date to end. “Shall I take you home?”
No, you think, biting back your protest. No, take me to your place. Kiss me more, kiss me deeper, kiss me where the curve of my hips meets the plush of my thighs. Let me help you with your sweater; you’ll be so much more comfortable without it, Eddie.
“Okay,” you manage, sliding into your seat. He closes the door once you’re inside, jogging around to his side with a breathy chuckle.
“Gotta keep warm,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. The car rumbles to life, and as soon as he’s out of his parking spot, he takes your hand once again. Your intertwined fingers rest atop the gearshift for the entire drive to your building.
He turns off the car and faces you. “Let me walk you in.” Five simple words that ordinarily would preface sex; Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever uttered them in that order without at least the anticipation of getting laid. But there’s none of that now. He just wants to spend as much time with you as he can, before the spell is broken and he turns back into a pumpkin. Could the prince turn back into the Beast? he wonders wryly.
You cock your brow. “You sure about that? What if Grandma’s gotten herself into more trouble?”
“I’m willing to take that risk.” And he is. He’d risk everything, and for the first time in a long while, he’s not running from that feeling.
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Luckily, there’s no crisis when you and Eddie arrive on your doorstep. You trade a few more giggle-laced kisses before you finally part.
The stars align on Monday morning, with Harris actually cooperating and getting ready with enough time for Eddie to stop off at the cafe to get your coffee. Okay, letting him have a Pop-Tart for breakfast instead of cereal definitely helped the situation, but it was a special occasion! And it’s not like he could tell Harris that he needed to pick up coffee for Ms. Sweetheart; the kid would be hiring caterers for a wedding if he knew. 
Eddie had wanted to call you on Sunday, maybe see if you wanted to go to the playground with him and Harris and get some ice cream afterwards, but he’d ultimately decided against it. Give it some time; don’t be too eager. 
It occurs to him that bringing you coffee is something that a boyfriend would do, and he hasn’t actually asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Do adults do that? Or is it just kinda implied? Shit, maybe I can take her out again this weekend and ask, just to be sure.
He gives Harris a hug and a kiss goodbye, careful not to spill any of the hot beverage as he crouches down to his height. Jitters course through his veins as he approaches your classroom, but he knows that the joy on your face–either from his kind gesture or the prospect of caffeine–will make it all worth it.
When he gets there, he only sees Will. He can’t stick around long; he doubts his boss will accept trying to impress my maybe-girlfriend as a valid excuse for tardiness.
“Hey, Byers,” Eddie calls out with a wave, pointing to the cup. “I’m just gonna leave this on her desk, if that’s cool.” He spots a black Sharpie and is about to use it to write Date night on Friday? when he catches Will’s expression. It’s a combination of confusion and sadness, with his brows pinching together as he walks over to Eddie. 
Will shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “Um, she’s not coming in today. Probably not for the rest of the week.”
“Is she okay?” Worry mars Eddie’s confidence, and the sense of dread only worsens when Will quietly ushers him to the corner of the room away from the kids. “Is she sick or something?” he adds once the students are out of earshot. Will looks up at Eddie, though the height gap has decreased considerably since he was a freshman and Eddie was working through his third senior year. His eyes are shiny with tears, and he blinks them back and clears his throat. “Eddie…” he says softly, “her grandma died last night.”
--
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sutorus · 7 months
Note
imagine having a sleep over at megumis and toji decides to steal you away once he finally passes out 😮‍💨 his shirts and sweats probably have cigarettes burns in them
you gave me sm toji brain rot
-🫧 anon
we gave each other toji brainrot anon 🤝 kind of a part 2 to the kinktober toji fic
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, unprotected, mild daddy kink, some anal play, degradation, toji being toji
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you’re shifting on your feet, lips trapped between your teeth as you ring the doorbell. you’re early to the sleepover by a full hour.
you don’t know what you want to expect. if it’s toji, sitting on the couch, glass of some cheap shit on the armrest and hand tucked into his sweats.
or if it’s megumi, waiting at the door, bowl of popcorn by his hip and tv blasting because his dad isn’t home to scowl about the noise.
megumi does open the door. and toji does sit there.
and somehow, that’s the least likely, worst case scenario.
“hey,” megumi greets you, stepping aside to let you in.
toji doesn’t spare you a glance, so you let your eyes travel all over him. his bare feet propped up on the center table, his arm behind his head and fingers scratching his hair.
megumi notices you looking and — thankfully — only clicks his tongue, believing you’re just as irritated at his father’s presence as he is.
and are you? you’re unsure.
you don’t know how to face toji. you don’t know how to interact with him anymore, if you even should.
you sleep over at megumi’s house all the time, but right now you suddenly forgot how it even goes. do you take your shoes off at the genkan? do you leave your bag by the door?
you decide to just walk to megumi’s room wordlessly, taking the long way behind the couch as to not block toji’s view from the tv.
this doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.
megumi follows you inside, closing the door behind him and plopping down on his bed.
“so are we starting with the first movie?” he flips his laptop open. “it’s the best one, anyway.”
“uh, yeah, sure,” you sit down beside him hesitantly.
you’re just now noticing how much megumi and toji look alike and it’s freaking you out.
“what the fuck is wrong with you today?” blunt as always. blunt as toji.
“huh? dude, chill,” you lie down, placing the laptop on your lap. megumi eyes you suspiciously before lying down beside you. “i just didn’t sleep much last night.”
“right,” he says, skeptical but disinterested, and presses play.
every minute of the movie is torture — on the screen and in your head.
around the beginning of saw iii, megumi orders pizza. him, you and toji eat in silence.
complete silence. he doesn’t even look at you.
why isn’t he looking at you? you’re in your pajamas already. no bra. short shorts. you thought you’d both established that that worked on him.
toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up, with a grunted clean up when you’re done.
it’s so frustrating, the total lack of attention, and you’re starting to get pent up. settling back down next to megumi to watch fucking saw iv and hear him question the viability of each trap drives you crazier by the minute.
when you finally tuck in for the night, you’re anything but relaxed.
what happened to “you have one more hole for me to wreck don’t you”? toji’s so full of shit, probably too drunk to even get it up tonight anyway.
it’s those angry thoughts that lull you to slumber, regret settling deep in your gut for having ever let that horrible man inside you.
not long after you fall asleep, however, you’re stirred awake, a soft, sake-soaked breeze blowing over your face.
you crack one eye open, no surprise in your gaze because who else could it be.
toji’s smirking, crouched down, eyes searching all over your sleeping form. it sends a chill down your spine.
what do you want, you mouth to him, anger persisting against the arousal already starting to build within you.
his grin grows wider, wilder. he gets up slowly and beckons with two fingers, and like the silly fucking slut you are, you follow.
you — not toji — make sure to gingerly close the door to megumi’s room before you turn around to face him. or rather, face his chest, the flimsy cloth littered with cigarette burns that covers those muscles you finally got to know so well.
“hello?” is all you can manage to say.
he loves your indignation, loves the brattiness, will love to fuck it out of you tonight, too.
“what, don’t want it?”
you roll your eyes.
“you had to wait until megumi’s right there to say you wanna do it?” your focus wavers as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “you couldn’t have pulled me aside before?”
toji presses his leer to the side of your throat, caging you in against the wall right by the door. you let out a soft moan, hands already reaching for his arms.
“had to make sure you two weren’t gettin’ it on,” he growls into the crock of your neck, making you grimace in disgust. “i don’t like to share my toys, y’know.”
“ew, he’s your son,” the irony in your statement isn’t lost on you, the person you should actually be ewing at.
you push him away and the feeling of his abs under your palms is enough to break any rest of resolve you had in you.
toji lets out a low, satisfied laugh, throwing his head back. “exactly why i worry.”
soon enough, and unsusprisingly, he has you bent over the kitchen island, pussy stretched out and dripping on his thick cock.
“shut the fuck up,” he keeps saying when you moan, only to fuck you harder and faster and deeper.
the furniture is digging into your belly, your forearms skidding on the top. you whine softly, angling your hips so he can hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.
“ohhh yeah, fuck back into me,” he grabs your hair and you let out a yelp, punished with a blow to your ass. still, you do as you’re told, the sounds of your skin slapping against his growing louder, quicker.
“t-touch me, touch me, make me cum,” you beg in a desperate whisper, head straining in his grip.
toji laughs, dragging his cock out of you slowly before plunging all the way back in.
“shut up, slut,” and god, why is that so hot to you, “last i checked you weren’t in a position to make demands.”
you whimper, trying to snake a hand down your clit to do it yourself.
suddenly, toji stops.
“ah, that reminds me,” he slowly, torturously slowly to make you feel every inch of him, pulls out of you completely. then he pokes your asshole with the head of his cock.
“no,” you say in a panicked breath, trying to turn around in his grip. “no, no, not today, definitely not right now no—“
“shhh, fuck, be quiet,” he wraps his entire forearm around your throat and brings your body into his chest, nibbling at your jaw. “you’re gonna like it.”
“i don’t want to,” it’s one last attempt, the most honest one you have. toji likes fucking with you, flustering you, that much is obvious.
but is he seriously— and without any prep, too?—
he chuckles low in his throat, right into your ear.
“then ask me not to.”
he slides the tip back into your cunt and you relax a little, even moving your hips back and forth like hey! look how good my pussy is! can you just stay in it and not ruin my ass please!
“please don’t fuck my ass,” you try.
“hmm,” he hums, sliding his cockhead out. then back in. then back out.
“please, toji, don’t fuck my asshole tonight,” you clench around him, trying to take more of his length inside.
“not good enough, whore,” he slams all way back in, shoving your body into the sharp wood and making you wail. toji starts moving, fucking little noises out of you with every thrust. “say, ‘no please daddy not there, not my little asshole!’”
you let out a long, pitchy whine, clawing at the arm around your neck.
“do it or else,” toji gathers up some wetness at your entrance with your thumb and presses it to your asshole, rubbing little wet circles.
“fuck you, toj—ahh,” his finger slips inside and you clench down hard. “please! please daddy not there, not my—“
toji cackles, fucking you in earnest now, plowing every word and thought out of your brain. you’re grunting with the force of his thrusts, finding purchase in the edges of the kitchen island, knuckles turning white.
“such a good little girl, aren’t ya,” he says into the shell of your ear, snaking a hand around your hip to rub your puffy clit.
you throw your head back onto his shoulder, legs shaking in between his. “ahhh, fuck, d-daddy—“
your orgasm washes over you so forcefully that you feel like folding in two, going limp in toji’s grip as he chases his own.
he buries a few low, animalistic grunts into your hair before he’s filling up your cunt, aborted little thrusts pushing out staccato breaths from his lips.
he releases his grip on you, cock still spurting out the rest of his load.
once he pulls out, toji keeps feeding his cum into your pussy over and over, telling you to watch the floors before you have to limp your way to the bathroom to clean up.
you do the best you can without taking a shower, body so thoroughly exhausted that you don’t even know if you’d have the energy for one.
right now, all you want is to plop down on a soft surface and get some much needed sleep, feeling actually satisfied.
when you leave the bathroom, you’re faced with a groggy, disheveled megumi standing by his bedroom door.
your eyes quickly scan your surroundings.
toji is nowhere to be seen.
megumi’s eyes reveal nothing, none of the thoughts that might be going through his head right now.
as for you, there’s only one word bouncing around inside your skull:
fuck.
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a/n sorry again
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chocochipsushi · 4 months
Text
𝐁𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲?
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Happy 2K followers to me! Here's a short scenario I came up with in reference to this tiktok video I saw.
🌸Warning: SFW Biker!Toji but there is a one-liner that is a tad bit suggestive
🌸AU: Your dad tries to embarrass you in front of a hot biker but you still stay winning anyway
🌸Word count: 824
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“Dad, please don’t!” you beg, just knowing what your father is going to do the moment he notices you getting distracted by the biker waiting for the red light to turn green. 
Your dad smirks at you, not saying anything. As the both of you walk towards the pedestrian crossing, he clears his throat and spares no time to humiliate you. He puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly, rudely. Then, he points in the biker’s direction. You can see the slight tilt of the black helmet as he watches you and your dad. 
“My daughter thinks you’re hot!!!” 
You slap a hand over your mouth in shock and disbelief that your dad would actually humiliate you like this. You are still gaping at the biker like an idiot when he leans back and flips his visor up. Your thumping heart races even more when you notice his dark eyes sliding up and down your body. Even from a distance, you can see his slit eyes crinkling. 
“Can I get her number, Old Man?” the biker shouts back, though his voice is muffled by the helmet he is wearing. 
And because your dad is an asshole, he shouts back, “No!!!”
“Oh my god, dad!” you cry, extremely embarrassed. You’re speed walking across the pedestrian crossing, wanting so much just to run off and hide, when you hear the engine or the motorbike start. 
You turn, expecting to watch the bike zoom off. Instead, you see him driving to the side of the road where he kicks the stand of his two-wheel drive. He swings his leg over the seat and he is off the motorbike in a second. Your heart races when you notice him walking in your direction. 
Surprised and anxious, you start jogging to the other end of the road. The moment you reach the pavement on the other side, you turn around, only to freeze when you see the biker just a few steps away from you. You could see his dark green eyes crinkling slightly. 
“Need your number, doll,” he declares behind his helmet. 
“Need?” you repeat mockingly, laughing a little. 
He chuckles and hands you his phone. “Need,” he confirms. 
Amused by his response, you reach for his phone. You glance back to see your dad rushing to your side of the road to catch up to the both of you. Quickly, you save your number and name, and pass the phone back to the man. He reads your name experimentally in a low voice, then looks up at you, as if to confirm that it is your name. 
You nod, just as your dad reaches this side of the road. Embarrassed, you quickly shoo him away, “Okay, nice to meet you. Your bike is being ticketed!” You point at his motorcycle across the road. 
The man chuckles in amusement. “Yeah, that’s not working on me.” He sees your father walking over from the corner of his eye and he hums. “But I’ll go. You be a good girl for your daddy,” he says huskily, knowing exactly what his words would do to you. 
Heat shoots up your body and blood rushes to your cheeks. Just then, your father stands next to you and faces the biker, giving him a good, intimidating look. Unfazed, the man with the helmet takes off the headpiece in respect, hugs it under his arm, and holds a hand out to your dad. 
“Toji Fushiguro, sir. Thanks for setting me up with your beautiful daughter,” he says. 
You’re not quite sure what your dad responds to that because you’re staring at the handsome man with his black hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his green eyes contrasting so beautifully against his dark features. You only snap out of it when the pedestrian light turns green again and Toji throws his thumb behind him in the direction of his bike. 
“I’m gonna go fill up my tank to get ready to bring your daughter out to a nice place tonight, sir.” He glances at you with a cheeky glint in his eyes and a smirk. “If that’s okay with you,” he looks to your father now for permission, who shrugs. 
“It’s her time to waste, not mine.”
Toji laughs and nods. As he takes a step back, he waves his phone at you and calls your name. “I’ll text you. Wear jeans!”
“Who said I’ll say yes to dinner with you?” you retort. 
He is still backtracking even as he crosses the road. He shouts, “Of course you will! You think I’m hot!”
Feeling your ears get hot again, you can only stare at his vehicle and yell, “Your bike’s getting towed!” 
The male grins. With a wiggle of his fingers, he turns on his heels, slides his helmet back on, and runs back to his undisturbed, perfectly parked bike. 
You’re going to have to start thinking of what to wear tonight.
-
© chocochipsushi 2024 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise
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jockbroski34 · 5 months
Text
New Blood (Chapter 1)
This is my first TF story. I hope you enjoy and I have plenty of other ideas I've come up with for future stories.
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I would’ve been surprised if you told me how my first day at my new school turned out. My dad was transferred to a different branch at the job he worked at, so we were forced to move to a different state. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss my old town, but it’s not like I was that close with most of the people I went to school with anyways. On the bright side, being transferred to a new high school gives me the chance to start fresh and make some new friends. Little did I know how right I really was.
The first day started out about as boring as you could imagine. The teachers reciting the syllabus, introducing ourselves to the class, the usual mundane activities expected for the first day. However, all of that changed during 3th period. It was algebra, and normally I could care less. But it wasn’t the class that caught my attention, hell no. Class started as usual. The class was packed full of students, with nearly every seat taken. About 3 minutes into the class, class was interrupted by an opened door and a large figure.
He must’ve been 6’3”, making me who is 5’10" look like someone who hadn’t hit his growth spurt in comparison. His brunette hair, short and spiked with the sides shaved, helped to accentuate his angular face and his alluring emerald green eyes. He wore a football shirt that fit snugly against his chest and his bulky biceps bulged out of the sleeves. His thick thighs made his jeans a tight fit. They could definitely crush a watermelon. Perhaps even my face, I thought, as I admired the handsome man.
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“Sorry I was late, bro. Just got out late from my meeting with Coach”, the stud said, in a nonchalant, baritone voice. He sounded like your stereotypical jock.
“Don’t make this a regular thing, ‘bro’” our teacher grumbled. “I know you’re the team captain, but it doesn’t mean you can just barge in while I’m teaching.”
“Relax, dude. It’s just a one time thing.” he responded. Looks like he’s the big man on campus. He sure didn’t seem to care that he was late on the first day of school.
The giant scanned the room looking for a place to sit. First the right end of the room, then the middle, and then he looked towards the left, where I sat, and conveniently at the empty desk adjacent to me. For a split second, our eyes were staring right at each other, but my gaze veered the other direction out of embarrassment. The jock’s lips curved into a slight smirk as he began to walk into the rows of desks, accidentally bumping me with his massive size 15 foot.
“Sorry bro”, he said as he placed himself in the seat next to me. His nice round ass stood out to me as he made himself comfortable.
The class continued on as normal, but for some reason, I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could before. The beefcake next to me kept my mind preoccupied. He was the most attractive guy I’ve seen so far at this school, and I couldn’t help but be distracted by his perfect body. His toned body glistened, likely from the sweat of a morning jog, and I noticed a slight scent that affirmed that. I normally found the smell of sweat to be a little disgusting, but for him, it seemed to mix well with his natural aroma. The scent of a man.
“No. If a guy like him finds out that you’re gay, you’ll never hear the end of it,” I scolded myself in my head. I could already imagine myself being harassed by him and his meathead friends.
Strangely enough, just as I had been looking at him, I also felt like I was being watched as well. I must have been imagining things. I wouldn’t call myself unattractive, but I never caught the attention of other guys…let alone girls.
The teacher finished up with the material sooner than expected, so he stopped teaching for the rest of class until the bell rang. With about 10 minutes to spare before my next class, I reached into my pocket to grab my phone to kill time, but then I heard that same voice from before.
“Sup bro,” the hunk next to me greeted me. “I’ve never seen you before. You new here?”
This guy was talking to me. Wait, why was he talking to me? I was incredibly caught off guard, but I decided to play it cool and hide my embarrassment.
“Yeah, my name’s Jacob. My parents just moved into town the other week and now I’m here.”
“Damn, that sucks, but I hope you like it here. Nice to meet you Jacob. I’m Zach. You mind if I call you Jake for short?”
Most people called me by Jacob and I preferred it like that, but for him, I didn’t really mind.
“Sure, nice to meet you too,” I responded. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but my hand felt small engulfed in his meaty palms.
We spent the remaining time in class getting to know each other. The more I talked with Zach, the more I realized how we were basically complete opposites. He was as I expected, a stereotypical jock, only interested in sports and going to the gym and I was anything but that. I could tell through his attitude that he was full of confidence, maybe even bordering on arrogance, but he still seemed rather agreeable. Despite our obvious differences, we actually got along surprisingly well. I expected him to be some brute, some bully, but he was actually a pretty fun, chill guy. He actually gave me his number too. The bell rang and we both packed up our supplies into our backpacks.
“Hey man, so where’s your next class?” Zach asked.
“Room 214. Must be on the second floor,” I replied.
“Oh cool. I’m actually headed that way too. Don’t worry, I know this school like the back of my hand!”
We walked up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway.
“Hey, so lunch is coming up and I don’t know if you have anywhere to sit yet,” Zach inquired.
I had completely forgotten about lunch. At my old school, it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit by myself. I was the kind of guy who didn’t really mesh well with any crowd and I had few close friends.
“I don’t, why?” I responded.
“I just figured that because you’re new, you might want somewhere to sit. You can come sit with us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, the guys on the team are cool. I doubt they’d mind since you know me.” I imagined myself feeling out of place amongst the burly football jocks. Still, it was better than nothing.
“I might take you up on that offer,” I replied.
“Great, bro!” Zach smiled. His bright grin was contagious, and I felt a smile on my face as well. “I hope to see you there.” He patted me on the shoulder with his firm hands before we parted ways. Our classrooms, however, were conveniently right next to each other.
I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could during 3rd period. Thoughts of early US history blurred in my mind as the image of Zach lingered. Why was he being so nice to me of all people? Despite my curiosity, I started to think of him as a friend. For some reason, I felt myself drawn to him.
After an eternity, the bell rang for lunch, and I walked to the cafeteria. I got lost on the way there, as I was still unfamiliar with the layout of the building. As I walked past each table, I felt the impression that I was an outsider. Most tables were full of students, with few seats left open for me. It was like everyone else already knew each other, and that there was no place for me. Until I heard that voice again.
“Yo, Jake!” Zach shouted, his words breaking through the endless sea of mindless chatter. I turned my head to the right and saw him and several other members of the football team at a large table. How did I miss it? It’s a big table for big guys. “Did you get lost or something?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Sorry about that, bro. Come sit down!” He moved over, giving me room to squeeze in. He introduced me to the team, and it seems like he already told them about me, so they were eager to meet me. I recognized one person from my previous class.
“You’re…Bradley right?” I asked.
“Yeah, but call me Brad. No one except my brother calls me that anymore.” he answered. He wasn’t as tall as Zach, standing at a respectable and exact 6 feet tall. He was, however, a lot bulkier than Zach, who was more toned in comparison, but he wasn’t fat. His hair was shaved into a short blonde buzzcut and he had deep blue eyes. I recalled him falling asleep for a bit during last class. The bro must not have gotten enough sleep last night.
Zach, Brad, and the other guys talked about sports and working out after class, and other stuff that a stereotypical jock would talk about. I did my best to include myself in the conversation, but I felt kinda lost keeping up and I felt like a bit of a poser compared to them. I knew only basic level sports knowledge and I had never lifted a weight in my life. If only I was more like them.
Despite that, I actually got along with them better than I expected, and I was glad to know that they were more like Zach than I had anticipated. They did make fun of me for not knowing certain players or who won the game last night. However, I didn’t get the impression that it was malicious, but rather more playful, like how one would joke around with his bros. Even though I clearly looked and felt out of place, I found myself enjoying their company and I tried to absorb whatever knowledge the jocks discussed like a sponge. What felt like an entire day of hanging with the bros was only half an hour as the bell rang and the crowd of students emptied the cafeteria to depart for their next class. I said my farewells to Zach’s friends and made my way to my next class. Zach, instead of staying with his fellow teammates, pursued me and joined me, walking at my side.
“Hey, thanks for sitting with us, bro. I told you they’d like you.”
“Of course…” I replied, unsure of what to say, but I smiled. “I did feel like a fish out of water, but I did have a good time.”
“No worries, bro. I kinda figured you would feel out of place, but you did great. Give it time and I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” Zach smirked. “You just gotta get out of your comfort zone, man.”
“I guess I never thought of it like that,” I was surprised at Zach’s different perspective. “Maybe I could be as strong as the rest of you are and throw balls around someday,” I joked, as the idea of me being like one of them felt unrealistic to me.
Zach chuckled and gave me a wink. “Who knows? Life is full of surprises. Anyways, my class is this way, but I think we have the same class next period. Later, bro!”
The rest of the day went by quick, and was relatively uneventful. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, school was over, and I could finally go home. I thrusted myself into my bed, overwhelmed by my first day of school., but for once, I was actually kinda happy to be there. I met Zach, Brad, and a bunch of other guys on my very first day. Zach specifically lingered in my mind, and I recollected every inch of his body in my mind. I started to get hard picturing every exquisite detail, and I couldn’t help but bust my load to him. Eventually day turned to evening and evening turned to night, and I closed my eyes, wondering what the rest of the year had in store for me.
The next two weeks came and went and I became accustomed to the new school and my new friends. I went to class, ate with the football team at lunch, and I even started to hang out with Zach more. He offered to help me with the gym if I helped him with some of his schoolwork. I agreed obviously, as I wouldn’t mind building some muscle. It was always good to help a bro out and also I just wanted to be closer to him. As I helped him with math and science, he helped me with lifting weights and exercises. I struggled at first, but eventually I started to notice some improvements and I could tell he was proud.
Whenever we finished studying or working out, we spent the rest of the night watching sports or playing video games. Zach had to explain the rules to me, but I started to understand football on a surface level. Other than that, I got invited to a party at Brad’s place, and I had a great time partying and drinking with Zach and the football team. During those weeks, I was probably the happiest and most social I have ever been in my life.
The following week was when everything changed. One day before lunch, I was approached by someone who I have never seen before. He wasn’t very tall, standing at a modest 5’8”. He looked babyfaced with his nerdy, boyish looks and blonde hair, and his glasses helped to emphasize his meek blue eyes. I think he was a year below me.
“My name is Braden.” He said. “You’re the new kid who’s friends with Zach, right?”
“Yeah I am. My name’s Jake…I mean Jacob.” I responded. For a second, I found myself using the name Zach and the other jocks called me.
“I think you should stay away from him. He’s bad news.”
“What’s wrong with Zach?” I asked. Zach had been nothing but good to me since we met. I couldn’t imagine him having any malicious intent. He even took care of me at the party when I was black-out drunk for the first time.
“Ever since my brother started hanging out with him, he started acting… weird. He was never into football or anything, but now he’s on the team and he looks and acts like a completely different person.”
“I…What are you talking about?” I was seriously confused about what he meant.
“I’m serious! Unless you want to end up like just another jock…”
“Hey, Jake! How’s it going?” Zach cut in, seemingly oblivious to the fact that we were talking about him. “And you’re Brad’s brother, right?” Braden avoided eye contact with his brother’s friend.
I felt a sense of urgency, as I felt like I was going to be late. “I’ve gotta get to lunch. It was nice meeting you, Braden!” I said as me and Zach walked to lunch together. What the hell was his deal anyways?
“Braden’s a weird dude. Don’t worry about what he says,” Zach informed me, trying to ease the mood.
Later that week, I was hanging out at Zach’s place again after a workout, helping him with the algebra quiz that was next class. I helped him understand the concepts better and we wrapped up reviewing the study guide, so we finished and we laid down on his bed.
“Hey man, I’ve been thinking…” Zach started, but he sounded rather hesitant, unlike his usual confident self. “What would you think about joining the football team?”
“I…” I was honestly kinda surprised. Why would he want me, of all people, to join? I wasn’t unathletic, but even working out with him would not have prepared me to play football. “I’m flattered you would want me, but I don’t think I have what it takes. Plus, I’m not like you guys at all,” I answered.
“That’s fine, bro. Me and Coach can help condition you to become the jock I know you want to be.”
“Condition?” I was confused, unsure about what he meant by that.
“I know how much you want to be like us, bro,” For some reason, the word bro sent shivers down my spine. He had a devious look on his face. “And I can see your potential. That’s why I chose you. It helped that you’re the new kid anyways so no one will notice if you turned into another jock. I made that mistake with Brad and now that kid Braden won’t leave me alone.”
Zach paused, realizing that he said too much, but at this point, there was no going back. Despite his malicious intent, I got hard at the thought of being one of them, of being one with the team. My friends were always there for me the past few weeks and we had a strong bond despite our differences. I looked up to them, and wished I was more like them.
“That’s not the only reason I chose you…” Zach rolled over, climbing on top of me, his heavy, muscular body pinning me down, his legs straddled between mine, his sweat from the workout from earlier spreading through my nostrils. “I knew you were gay. I could just tell. But that’s okay, because so am I. You’re cute enough as you are now, but I think you would look better standing side-by-side with me, looking, thinking, and acting like me. Don’t you agree?”
I was overwhelmed by the situation, and by Zach’s sudden change in behavior. But I subconsciously nodded as my cock throbbed in my pants. Whether my mind or my dick was thinking first, I could not tell you.
“If you join the team, I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine. How does that sound, bro?”
I tried to weigh my options. I thought about the kind of person I was. Who was I before I came here? Before I met Zach? I…I was nobody. I didn’t have any friends here. Zach took me in. My mind was fixated on the man in front of me. I realized I longed for him. I longed for the team and my bros. I longed for football. I longed for working out. And that’s when everything became clear. I longed to become a jock like him.
“That sounds awesome, bro,” I answered. Bro? I never said bro before. I guess Zach was really starting to rub off on me. I gave into temptation, but I knew that it was what I secretly desired ever since I met him.
“That’s a good bro…” Zach responded, obviously pleased with my answer. A seductive smirk lit up his face as he pressed his lips to mine. We enjoyed that moment for what felt like several lifetimes, but in reality it was actually only a few minutes of sweet passion. At this point, I felt like my cock was about to burst. At this point, I desired him. Zach noticed the raging bulge in my pants. “I know you wanna fuck, but I can’t give you what you want just yet. You will meet me in Coach’s office after class tomorrow. After we finish your transformation, then you can cum.”
“Yes, bro…” I muttered, keeping my erection under control. The rest of the evening was surprisingly normal between us, almost like the erotic scene that had just taken place was something out of a fever dream or a hallucination. We played some video games to kill time and to lighten the mood. The only reason I knew it was real was because of the firm erection that lingered in my pants. Eventually I said goodbye to Zach and went home.
“Remember to meet me after school. And just remember, you can still back out if you want…but I have a feeling you won’t,” Zach sneered, looking down at my pulsating serpent. Despite his words, however, I knew that my mind had already crossed the point of no return.
The next day was unbearable. The anticipation of what awaited me after this long day was killing me. What made it worse were the classes where I had Zach. He could tell that I was finding it hard to focus, and it felt like he was edging me with his mind. I could barely concentrate on the algebra quiz we studied for the night prior. I could only think about joining the football team and I imagined what it would be like to be a jock. I’d be big and strong, sexy, athletic. I would fit right in with all my bros. Working out together, practicing together, winning and celebrating together.
During lunch, Zach announced that I would be joining the team, and the group of football jocks cheered and welcomed me to the team. One of them said it was only a matter of time until I decided to join, and I couldn’t really deny it. I looked at each member of the team, and I wondered how I would look compared to them. For a second, I remembered Braden’s words, but I quickly shrugged them off. He made it seem like my transformation would be a bad thing, but a nerd like him could never understand. This is what I desired. This was what I was destined for. And I kept those words in my head, as the clock turned to the end of the school day.
As soon as the final bell rang, I immediately rushed over to the locker room. I saw Zach in his white and red football uniform, missing only his helmet, and, having never seen him in this outfit before, I thought he looked perfect in it. And soon, so would I.
“You’re here early, bro,” he said. “You’re even more eager than I expected. Coach isn’t here yet, but I can explain the details to you.”
He led me towards the back, where he pulled out several pieces of clothing that would become synonymous with my new identity. A jersey already stitched with my name on it, tight compression pants and a compression shirt, football cleats, shoulder pads, a jockstrap, and a sturdy helmet that would adorn my head like a king would wear his crown.
“Put it on.”
I complied. I was a little disappointed at first, as the clothing looked at least a size above what I would normally wear. “No worries, you’ll grow into them quick, trust me.”
As I put on my new uniform, I started to become curious. What was this all about? So I asked him, “What’s the point of all of this anyways?”
“I guess there’s no reason to hide it anymore,” he responded. “To be honest, I was kinda like you once. I wasn’t really athletic like I am now, but my dad was actually a professional football player. He was forced to retire early due to a bad injury, but despite that, I wanted to do what he couldn’t. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never be the player I wanted to be. That all changed when Coach learned of my struggles and we worked together to make me into the football jock I had always dreamed of. Eventually, after about a year of testing, we found a way and that’s how I became who I am now. For once, I was strong, athletic, and confident, and it never felt forced or fake. Like this was who I really was all my life. Since then, similar studies were done at different high schools and colleges across the US. You wouldn’t know about any of that, because it’s all behind closed doors. Eventually, I found you and I realized that you were probably just as lost as I was, so I kinda took advantage of that. Sorry, I guess I’m not the kind of guy you thought I was.”
I had no idea that’s how Zach truly felt. I sympathized with him despite him hiding so much from me. We came from different backgrounds, but we both wanted the same thing. To be better, and to be stronger. Even after he poured his heart out to me and told me the truth, he was still Zach to me. I cared for him and he cared for me. He opened my eyes to a new world full of different possibilities. And so, I pushed my lips into his and our tongues wrestled for dominance. We were stopped by footsteps approaching. We returned to normal as Coach walked into the room, oblivious to the fact that we were making out seconds prior outside of our rosy cheeks.
“So you’re the kid Zach’s been talking about. I’m Coach Myers.” the man said. “I’m guessing he told you everything. Do you have any questions before we get started?”
“No sir,” I answered.
“In that case, let’s go into my office.” I obliged eagerly. There’s no going back. “Have a seat, sign these forms, and put these on.” They were earbuds. I signed my name on every form, formally granting my consent to join the team, and likely whatever changes would occur to me. In front of me was an old TV with a VCR. “You will watch and listen to this video for the full duration. You will notice some changes and you might feel a little uncomfortable. All you have to do is relax and focus on the video.” I did as he said. I sat down in my new football uniform, and I put the earbuds in both ears, and then finally put my helmet onto my head. With everything prepared, Zach turned off the lights, and the TV turned on, playing a video.
With the helmet over my head, my peripheral vision was restricted. I had little choice but to look at what was directly in front of me. My eyes became fixated on the screen in front of me as they became entranced by the flowing spiral. As I fell deeper into a trance, I felt as though my mind and body were on the opposite ends of the world. The audio was hard to make out, but somehow I felt like I understood it, at least subconsciously.
After a period of time that my mind couldn’t possibly comprehend, the imagery began to change. I started to make out clips of football players, playing football, being part of a team, throwing and catching the ball, tackling my opponents, strategies and plays. I learned the proper workouts and techniques and exercises that a football player would do. What at one time felt foreign to me felt like common knowledge, like I had done this my entire life. It was muscle memory, no pun intended.
It was at this moment that my body started to change. No. Change isn’t the right word. Evolve. I noticed my average-sized arms start to bulge, my biceps and triceps inflating like they were being pumped. Next, my shoulders expanded and became more sturdy, making my shoulder pads fit a little better. Then, my chest pumped out, my pecs eager to fill the empty space in my oversized jersey along with my new six-pack. Following that, my legs thickened until they felt tight in my compression pants, and my ass inflated like a balloon into a nice, round bubble butt. Below that, my feet grew longer and more wide, filling the size 15 shoes that my formerly size 11 feet would have had trouble walking around in. My penis, still erect, grew from an average 5 inches to an impressive 8 inches, feeling more and more aroused by the increasing stimulation and the surplus of testosterone flowing through my body. Finally, I felt my blonde medium length hair thin and become more like my teammates with shaved sides and a short top. Any chubbiness in my face disappeared as my facial features sharpened, especially my jawline and my chin, giving myself a more masculine look.
While all of this was happening, my mind was swirling and every part of me was being drained or replaced. I found that I was losing interest in most of my old hobbies, but the idea of playing and watching sports, working out, partying, having sex, and hanging out with the bros felt so much more enticing and appealing than it did before. I started to realize that I didn’t really care much about school or learning anymore, and that playing sports was the only real reason why I came to school. I was never the best student, but I always did my best. However, I realized that none of that mattered as long as I kept good enough grades to stay on the team. C’s get degrees, am I right? At worst, I could always bribe one of the smarter kids to do my homework for me.
Then, my mindset began to change. Before, I was introverted, polite, and humble. But now? I was outgoing, confident, and cocky, and I started to love the idea of that. It started to become unbelievable that I was ever not like this. I was always like this. As the changes in my mind were taking effect, I felt part of me overwhelmed by all the changes and trying to resist, but that stray thought was snuffed out like a candle, as the rest of my thoughts were drained from my mind. Any part of my former self’s mind was absorbed into my balls, which were swollen to the size of grapefruit at this point. As the changes in my body and mind reached its climax, so did my aching cock. As the video concluded, the words became more clear, and I could make out one phrase repeating over and over.
“You are a jock.”
It was at this point that I could finally release all my pent-up frustration from the past 24 hours. It was the best orgasm of my life. And just like that, load after load of my burning, sticky cum flooded my jockstrap, and with it, the memories of the old me were released from my body.
“Looks like someone made a mess,” Zach teased. “No worries, bro. It happens. How do you feel?” he asked as he put his arm around my shoulder. This time it felt different though, because I truly felt like one of the bros.
Jacob was gone. Jake took his place. I’m Jake, Jake the jock. My memories felt distorted but they were starting to become clear. I grew up always with a ball in my hand. I was naturally talented in any sport I played, but I gravitated towards football. I played it at my old school and I was among the best on the team. However, my dad got a new job and we were forced to move here. Thankfully, we were fortunate to live near a school with a gifted football program. I became friends with Zach and the football team, and naturally, I signed up for the team. And Zach? He was not just my bro or my best friend. He eventually became my boyfriend and the rest of the team supported our relationship. All of this felt so real to me, and a cocky smirk appeared on my unfamiliar face.
“Bro…I feel awesome,” I responded, my new, deeper voice matching both my new physique and personality. I looked down at my new body. It was like I hit puberty for the second time. I stood up, realizing that I was now several inches taller, now standing at a solid 6’2”. I was almost as tall as Zach, and I didn’t have to look up at him now. I felt like we were finally equals in terms of body and status.
“I told you you’d look amazing, bro,” he said as he gave me a peck on the cheek. “You should clean yourself up and get ready for practice. The other guys will never let it go if you come to your first practice with cum staining your uniform. Oh, and thanks Coach. Glad you could help both of us out.”
“Always glad to help out my star player,” Coach chuckled. “As for you, I think you turned out better than any of them yet. You might even give Zach a run for his money.” I felt a sense of pride being compared to him.
I quickly left Coach’s office and cleaned myself off. I changed into clothes that Zach lent me that would fit my new body better, and ran off to practice. Before that though, I stared at myself in the mirror so I could get my first glimpse of the new me. The person in front of me was completely unrecognizable to me, but I quickly grew comfortable with the jock in the mirror and I smiled at the person I had become. I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the flexing hunk that stood before me.
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Time passed and my new life became more and more normal to me. I would go to school, hang out with the football team, go to practice, work out, and then hang out with Zach. It became a natural routine to me, and I was never happier. My grades dropped a bit because I was focused on football. It’s not that I can’t care about learning. I just don’t want to. Coach says it’s alright as long as I pass my classes.
For the first time, I felt a true sense of camaraderie with a group of guys, and especially Zach. It felt like we were joined at the hip. We were a pair both on the field and off it. We’re currently undefeated this year and I think we might even reach regionals.
Most of my classmates and peers barely noticed my changes since I was already new and to them, I blended in as yet another stereotypical football jock. The only people with an immediate reaction were my parents. They were a little surprised by my sudden changes, but they were supportive of my new passion for football and they were glad to see me making friends and staying active. I did remember one person who definitely would mind my changes.
Braden.
A week or so after my transformation, he walked up to me, obviously disappointed, with a look of shame on his face, and told me that I should’ve listened to him. I brushed aside his comments. He called me a dumb jock. I told him I was happier this way, but he refused to believe me. He wouldn’t accept it. He said that he was going to expose the football team somehow, and change everyone who was affected back, including me and Brad. He stormed off, hoping to find some way to expose us.
I didn’t show it on my face, but in my mind I was furious. I genuinely didn’t want to turn back and I didn’t want the football team to be suspended or shut down. I thought about Zach, about his dreams, and about mine. I wanted nothing more than for the two of us to live out our dreams together of being the best football jocks ever. I couldn’t let Braden figure out the truth. I have to stop him. I started to brainstorm ideas on how to keep him quiet.
A devious idea entered my mind. He wouldn’t want to snitch on us if we turned him into a jock first. He was obviously a little envious of me, of Zach, even his big brother. I’m sure he would grow to appreciate the idea if he just accepted it. Besides, I’m sure he would make a sexy football jock with his looks already. The idea of turning someone into a jock, corrupting them, awakening their true desires became so appealing to me, just like Zach had did for me. He’ll understand one day.
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