#i adored it with my entire heart so i HAD to do something!!!!
Text
The cat distribution system | Lucy Bronze x Reader
Where you find a stray kitten and try to convince your girlfriend to keep it.
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k
-----
You have seen plenty of “the cat distribution system” videos on your tiktok, people finding stray cats, or rather stray cats finding their people. Every time you saw one, you would show it to Lucy. Your wife was a dog person, while you were a cat person. So, where you thought the cute part was the cats, Lucy thought the cute part was your excitement.
Never had you thought that one day the cat distribution system would distribute a cat to you, but then on your morning run you saw something moving out of the corner of your eye. You slowed your run to check it out, and couldn't believe your eyes when it was a little orange tabby kitten.
Its meows were soft but high pitched as you knelt down beside it. “Hi little buddy, what are you doing out here all on your own?” Your heart melted at the way the kitten nudged its head into your hand. After a few careful pets, you lifted up the kitten and cuddled it close to your body. It instantly nestled into your warmth, and your heart melted even more.
“Let’s see if you have any friends around, little buddy.” You looked around the general area, but weren’t finding any sign of the kitten's parents or siblings. “Looks like you’re coming home with me for a bit.”
You abandoned your morning run entirely, and went straight home. In your home office you set up some space for the little kitten. Some soft blankets, a bowl of water, and some cat food you got from your neighbours.
On the other side of your office door Narla was busy sniffing around, trying to figure out what this new scent in your home was. “Oh hi sweetheart, I’ve brought a friend with me. I will introduce you two later.” You said while petting your dog.
“Who did you bring with you?” Lucy’s curious voice sounded from the front door. You rush to hug your wife, as does Narla. “Hi baby, how was training?” She pecks your lips before she kneels down to pet Narla. “Training was good. Are you going to tell me who you brought with you or are we just completely ignoring that you just said that?” Your wife said with a smirk, fully knowing your tactics.
“You know how I always show you those videos of people finding stray cats?” Lucy’s eyes widened. “You did not.”
“I did. It’s in my office.” Before Lucy could say something you continued. “It was out there all on its own, and it was cold. I took it with me to warm up, and was hoping you would come to the vet with me to check if it has a chip or something.”
Lucy agreed and drove you to the vet right away. You sat in the passenger seat with the little kitten asleep in your arms, Lucy wouldn’t admit it to your face, but the moment warmed her heart. At the vet, they checked for a chip, and did not find one. Besides that they also did a full work up, it was a boy, and besides being a little underfed he was fine. The doctor gave the two of you a moment.
“Luce we can’t just leave it here and let him go to the animal shelter. Can we please take him home and find a proper placement for him ourselves? I want him to find a good home.” With your best puppy dog eyes you managed to convince her. When you told the vet, he sent you home with some supplies, after giving the kitten a vaccination.
It had been a couple of days since you had taken in the little kitten. Lucy had made you promise to not name the kitten, because you would get too attached. So of course you didn’t name it… outloud. In your head you had given the kitten a name the moment you decided to take it back home from the vet, little Toby Bronze.
Lucy had been kind of standoff-ish with Toby, but you didn’t expect anything else from your dog loving wife. That’s why you were surprised to find Toby cuddled up in your wife’s arms as they had both fallen asleep on the couch. You quickly snap a picture, mainly because the sight was adorable, but also for leverage.
You had fully fallen for the tiny kitten, and it wasn’t until now that you had the slight hope that maybe Lucy had fallen for him too. There already wasn’t the argument that Narla wouldn’t get along with him, because they had been running around in your living room together from the moment you introduced the two of them together.
At first you wanted to ask Lucy if you could keep Toby right away, but you thought it was best to give her some more time to bond with the kitten. You had been in charge of finding a new home for the kitten, but you had stopped responding to people who were interested in hopes of keeping Toby in your own home.
The one eventing you were laying cuddled into Lucy’s side on the couch, your head resting on her shoulder while a movie played on the TV. Narla was softly snoring with her head laying in Lucy’s lap. You heard the tiny taps of Toby’s feet coming closer, and smiled to yourself as you felt him jump onto the couch besides you. He found his place in your lap, walked in a couple of circles, and sat down.
All of you sitting on the couch, was like your little family was complete for the time being. Both wanting kids in the future, but now your loved fluff balls were your family, and you loved it. Lucy reached out her hand and gave Toby a few pets over his head.
“You know, I’ve really enjoyed having him around.” Your focus on the movie was instantly shattered, was she saying what you thought she was saying. “What would you say we give him a forever home?” Tears welled in your eyes with excitement. “Really Luce?”
She smiled and pecked your lips. “Really.” You hugged her tight, careful not to squish Narla and Toby. When you leaned back into her side to continue the movie Lucy said, “So what have you been calling him?” Of course she had known all along that you would get attached to the little orange tabby from the start.
-----
💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗
#lucy bronze#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze x reader#lionesses#lionesses x reader#barcelona femeni#barca women#barca femeni x reader#barca femini x reader#barca femeni#engwnt x reader#engwnt imagine#fcbfemeni#fcb femení#fcb femeni
175 notes
·
View notes
Text
INSUBORDINATION
PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.
WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), clit slapping & rubbing, man handling
Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.
"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.
Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.
He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.
"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.
A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.
How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.
He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"
"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.
Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."
Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.
In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"
Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.
"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.
Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."
His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."
"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.
Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."
His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."
"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.
Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."
His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."
His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."
"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."
Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.
"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.
Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.
"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."
You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.
"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.
Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."
He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.
Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."
As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."
Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.
Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.
With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.
Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"
He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.
"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.
"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.
"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.
He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"
"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.
Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"
You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."
Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.
"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.
Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.
Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."
Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.
Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.
"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.
Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"
Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.
Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.
Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.
His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."
You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.
You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."
Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.
Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"
"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"
Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.
"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."
You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.
"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.
Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.
Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."
"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."
Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"
He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.
Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."
"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.
Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.
"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.
"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.
Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"
"Bastard", you reply.
He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"
"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.
His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"
"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.
He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.
"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"
"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.
Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.
"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.
Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."
Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.
"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."
You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.
"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.
He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.
"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.
"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.
Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.
"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.
"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.
"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"
Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."
Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."
Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.
You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.
He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."
You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.
Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.
Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".
Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.
Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.
"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.
You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.
Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"
You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"
"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.
"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.
"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.
"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.
"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.
"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"
Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.
Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"
"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.
Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.
"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.
"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.
Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."
"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"
Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."
Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"
"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.
Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.
Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.
"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.
Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.
Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."
"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.
"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.
"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.
Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.
You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.
He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.
"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."
"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."
DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#toji zenin#zenin toji#toji x reader#toji x you#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji smut#fushiguro toji smut#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#dilf toji#jjk toji smut#jjk toji x reader#jjk toji zenin
398 notes
·
View notes
Note
24. whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin
For Annie and Brady please!!! I adore them and your writing!
HI ANON!!!! thank you so much for stopping by the askbox!! greatly appreciated, especially when it is annie and brady!! :) these two have my heart and deserve all the best things life has to offer. please enjoy this take on the prompt and these two just being so soft on each other (and brady well....brady being BOLD). lmao! ENJOYYYY!!! thank you for all the love on them! :D
you in my A-2
(a/n): partially inspired by the prompt, partially by an ask i got earlier. just....annie x brady getting more and more comfortable and slowly realizing things about this war that they didn't realize earlier. them. them them them. i need them to be the happiest they can be when this is all done :')
Ever since that first night in the Stalag that she'd crawled into the bunk with Brady, it had become a nightly thing that she'd evacuate by the time morning came, but yearned for with each passing day.
Where it was just the two of them, side by side, curled into one another's bodies, their eyes the only innocent thing held between one another in this horrid place.
Sometimes they'd talk, whispering quietly between another about random things, about some of the sad things of the world, about their lives back home that would be entirely different if they ever got out of here. Sometimes they'd just stare at each other, with what little light there was from the moon outside or the lights from the guard huts outside.
And by that point, Brady would usually thread his fingers into her somewhat tangled hair and she'd apologize for something she could hardly control and he'd whisper all the sweet things that it was fine, he just wanted to be there with her. And that usually lent to her fingertips brushing against his stubbled cheeks, her pointer finger tracing all those stress lines that popped out when it was just them, or she'd let her hands dip into his hair and brush it back in a calming motion that usually got him right to sleep.
And so by morning, when she was back in her bunk, curled in her blanket, looking across the way as people would start moving about, waking up, rubbing their eyes, yawning and stretching, she'd meet Brady's gaze from across the room and they'd share that silent look that meant more than whatever words either of them would manage to find.
It never went past that - the longing looks, the occasional forehead kiss. Maybe they were both scared to go over that line they'd drawn. That maybe if there was anything more, they'd lose it just as quick.
As Annie slid out of her bunk and crossed the small room towards where Brady was, she couldn't help but feel her heart bit a little faster just at the sight of him asleep there - his face scrunched up in a way that made her heart ache. The visible stress on his face even in his sleep made her want to pull him right into her arms and tell him over and over that everything would be okay, that they'd make it out, that she was okay beyond anything. Because he cared so much, that he stopped taking care of himself sometimes. And she always would pick up what pieces were lost and stitch them back together again and hold him in the darkness.
As she approached, she softly bit back her lip and reached out to prod him awake, which always made her feel guilty for doing such a thing, but he welcomed it and told her it was fine, despite her want to make sure he got a full nights sleep. Brady woke with a shake awake and turned to look towards her and smiled softly in the darkness.
"Hey," he whispered, before opening up the blanket, "hop in." Annie watched him for a moment, before her cheeks warmed - they always did when he looked at her like that - and she slid in beside him and let him engulf her in a mixture of his arms and blanket.
The second she felt her body pressed against his in the cocoon of blankets and warmth, her worries were stripped away, as they normally always were. She curled herself against the heat from his neck, her body begging for some sort of comfort in all of this, as he pressed a kiss against her temple, something he'd grown more akin to recently it seemed. It's not that they didn't want people to see them, it was more of the fact that they finally were back with each other and trying to keep things like they had been back at Thorpe Abbotts - friendly, maybe dancing the line of flirting but not nothing more. But here at the Stalag, they were anything but. And they both seemed to recognize that.
"You doing okay?" he whispered softly against her ear as she cuddled further into him the best she could and sighed, "That cold finally going away?" She nodded against him.
"Yeah," she whispered, "just a little bit of a stuffy nose, but can't complain. How about you?" She leaned back from him, from his warmth and smiled at him as she leaned a hand up against her head. Reaching forward, she ran her hands through his hair and watched a sense of calm wash over his form for a minute as she did so. And it did settle Annie's own nerves and worry for Brady that she constantly endured day in and day out. She always worried about him and seemed, but it was always mutual for the two of them.
"Okay," he said quietly, before the corner of his lip turned upward, "better now that you're here, I gotta admit." Her cheeks warmed and she shook her head before holding his gaze in her own.
"You're too sweet on me, John Brady." she whispered softly to him, cupping his cheek for a minute and brushing her thumb across his cheek as she grinned at him with her rosy cheeks. Brady watched her, that slightly far-off look in his eyes, a hint of a smile. He grinned.
"You deserve it, Annie," he whispered back to her, reaching up his own hand and brushing his fingers against her warm cheek and grinning, "that and you blush red like a tomato."
"You a fan of that?" she whispered back quickly with a laugh and she watched him bit his lip and smirk.
"I'd say I'm a big fan of that," he whispered back, "'specially when you look like this." Annie watched him - she could probably be covered in mud and he'd be staring at the way he currently was. And now, stuck in a Stalag camp, looking slightly malnourished and sickly, with slightly matted hair and sunken in eyes and he still looked at her like that and said things like that.
"I could say much of the same," she whispered back to him, turning her head slightly to nuzzle into his hand against her cheek, "you look cute when you blush." John Brady did in fact blush when she said that, even though she couldn't even really see much of his face in that darkness of the room. She grinned and then leaned forward and cuddled into his neck again, Brady chuckling the slightest bit as he curled into her as well.
"You're so warm." Annie whispered against his neck as the rumble from his throat echoed in her ear and made her grin like a loon, "You're like a personal blanket." That got him to chuckle quietly again as her lips danced near her ear and she could practically hear each and every breath that left his lips - a mixture of knowing he was alive and right there next to her - and even more so; knowing that all they were in that moment right now were two people dying for an ounce of comfort in this world.
"Consider me your personal blanket," he whispered back as his lips continued to ghost over her ears, "I was thinking….." Annie listened to him trail off and gulped for a moment as his breath trembled and his heart pounded.
"I'd give anything if it was me and you back at Thorpe Abbotts, just you in my A-2 jacket and nothing else." he whispered and her body grew hot - whether from his soft, husky voice in her ear or the way his hands had found their way underneath her clothes, fingertips grazing her bare back, traversing her battered and hot skin, her thoughts were suddenly in a blunder and all she could think about well was….that. Annie pulled back from her spot curled against his neck and met his gaze.
"Just your A-2?" she whispered softly, looking at him shyly from underneath her eyelashes, a small smile growing on her face as a look dawned on his features that almost seemed like he hadn't meant to let that slip from his lips, but it had, "What does that mean for you?" Brady watched her, the look in his eyes matching the touch of his fingertips on her skin and she suddenly couldn't focus on anything else but that gentle touch of his fingertips. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against her forehead again with that tender touch.
"You can have me anyway you want me." he whispered against her forehead and her eyes instinctively shut as he pressed up against her and she overwhelmed with him. His presence, his touch, the way he held her so gently and close to him, but with a level of protectiveness and care that made her know that this was safe, that she was safe, just like this.
Annie reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly running her fingers up into his hair as his head fell to the inside of her neck and he pulled her close, like a warm, tender hug that you never wanted to pull away from. Gleefully his hands raced along her bare back as she curled against him, feeling the way his hands explored underneath her coat and wooly top, dancing across her skin and making her feel things she hadn't quite felt in some time.
"Can I tell you something?" Annie whispered softly to him, rubbing slowly again through his hair as he sighed against her.
"What is it?" Annie listened to his heartbeat for a moment before blinking.
"This is the safest I've felt in years." And to even say a statement like that, in a place like this was ironic even in it of itself. She hadn't even felt the safest at home, a place that was supposed to be safe. No, no, she felt safest in the arms and embrace of someone she had only met a couple of months ago and had proved himself to be more of a home to her beyond anything.
"With me?" Annie nodded against him.
"Right here." she whispered back to him, "You and me." His grip didn't loosen, he only held her tighter and it seemed in that moment, the realization and the weight of whatever was going on between them seemed to hit. Her truth spilling from her lips quietly into his body, his grip tightening, their bodies pressed against one another in a way that should've felt foreign. Brady seemed to want to say something, she could tell, but when he stayed quiet and instead pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, she didn't question it. Because whatever they had here was okay for right now.
"I feel safe with you too, Annie." he whispered back and Annie was convinced even she wasn't so comfy, that she wasn't sure what she would've done if they'd been looking right at each other, inches apart. For now, she cuddled closer to him, enjoying his hands on her stomach and his lips near her ear, their soft breaths, mixing into deep slumber as they laid in each other's embraces until the world went quiet.
#masters of the air#mota#mota writings#silver bullets#THEMMMM#holy heck#annie bradshaw#john brady#john brady x oc#HE IS GETTING BOLD LADIES AND GENTS#HELLA BOLD#i had this line as an idea and RAN with it#in your a-2 like damn ok brady#SCREAMMINGGGG
30 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sorry to bother I adored your panuck attack headcanons and was wondering plesse van you do it for the other suitor as well ? 🙏 Thank you Have a wonderful day 😍
I wasn't entirely sure which suitors you wanted in particular so I picked 4. Have a wonderful day~
IkeVamp HCs: Panic Attack pt.2
Suitors: Arthur, Isaac, Comte, Vlad
Arthur
As frivolous as one may have the impression he is, when the time really calls for it, he will step up.
When the woman started to get anxious, he picked up on it immediately. Being as observant as he was, he noticed the telltale signs.
Jittery movements, agitated breathing, flushed face, all the signs of an incoming breakdown. The mystery author has had anxious patients before, it was nothing all that foreign to him.
Stopping a panic attack as it begins is no easy feat, so he knows its better to either prevent it, or do damage control.
He would gently guide her away and sit her on his lap, rubbing her arms as he whispered soothingly to her.
"Let's breathe luv. Deep breaths, there you go, my darling..."
He cupped her face and encouraged her to focus on him. When she calmed, he praised her and made sure she was alright, having her drink something warm and keeping an eye on her mood afterwards.
He would basically be the best comfort.
Isaac
Okay...he is a bit hopeless here at first...
He genuinely felt at a loss when she started to hyperventilate and quivering, behaving like a cornered animal ready to attack and defend herself.
To be honest, he had half the mind to find Napoleon, he always knew what to do but...
He couldn't allow another man to take care of his woman.
So, to the best of his ability, he tried to handle the situation himself. He took her to his room and sat alone with her, holding her hand. He hoped the quiet place would sooth her frayed nerves, drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.
He kept this up until her hand tightened around his, indicating she was regaining her control.
"Are you...okay now?"
He hesitated to tell her that seeing her like that had been scary, he had thought for a moment she was having a heart attack.
From then on, he would be just a tad more wary about things that could frighten or unsettle her.
Comte
He had seen so many tragedies, disasters, horrors that had jaded him to that sort of anxiety, to the point he nearly forgets that his cherie was not quite of the same metal.
When she started to fall apart, he reacted immediately, taking her in his arms when her legs gave out, shielding her in his embrace.
He had her listen to his calming voice, tenderly brushing her hair from her face as he pressed his forehead to hers, bring one of her hands to his lips.
His eyes never left her teary, wide ones as his presence started to ease her anxiety. Her vulnerability both hurt and touched him at once, feeling a surge of protectiveness.
"Mon diamant, your tears make my heart ache, tell me what can I do for you?"
Once he had her breathing calmly, he asked her if she wanted to leave, quick to comply when she says she does, cradling her to him as he wrapped her in his coat. As soon as they were at home, he has Sebastian make her a relaxing tea.
He would not leave her side until he knew she was completely at ease again.
Vlad
If he were to be honest, he himself was no longer familiar with the concept of panic and anxiety. Perhaps, after living so long, through the things he had, he was numb to that sort of thing.
That didn't mean that he wasn't quick to react when his love started to succumb to fear.
Trembling, whimpering, labored breathing, erratic movement.
Behavior that reminded him that his beloved was just a human being. She seemed to fragile and breakable.
Leaning down to her, he brushes her forehead, using his abilities to fill her mind with pleasant sceneries, flowery meadows and mesmerizing lakes, anywhere to take her mind away from what so frayed her nerves.
When she was calmer, he pressed his lips on her forehead.
"I am here, my flower, don't be afraid."
He would shower her with love long after the attack passed, simply because he felt she needed that extra bit of doting.
🌸
#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#ikevamp arthur#ikevamp isaac#ikevamp comte#ikevamp vlad#ikemen vampire headcanons#ikemen vampire hcs
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
fields of black carnations 🖤
#harry styles#harry styles fanart#hlcreators#hljournal#hello hello!!!! it took a little while to finish this but im finally done with harry's absolutely lovely brits red carpet outfit😣#i adored it with my entire heart so i HAD to do something!!!!#i hope yall enjoy it :') love u all so much !!!! 💌💌💌#my art#and as always THANK UUUU for always showing love for what i do it means the entire world to read ur tags and support <333
353 notes
·
View notes
Text
love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel
fluff, fluff, FLUFF
zayne
his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in
he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.
“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.
he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”
you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”
you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.
you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”
“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”
xavier
he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.
he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.
your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?
xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.
you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.
“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.
you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”
rafayel
oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.
“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”
“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.
you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.
“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.
finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.
his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.
“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader
Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.
Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.
A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...
Masterlist
If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents.
Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults.
Including your most recent problem child.
You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds.
Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases.
You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met.
Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person.
You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety.
“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk.
“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”
“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.”
The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad.
“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness.
“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.”
“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-”
“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.”
You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault.
“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?”
You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow.
“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you.
“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering.
“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat.
“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?”
The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word.
“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?”
In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went.
“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”
“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.”
The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second.
“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?”
“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”
The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well.
“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-”
“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.”
The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy.
“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?”
You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket.
“Great. Sure, let's go see.”
Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on.
“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?”
“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs.
Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her.
“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?”
“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.”
If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now.
“Harper, that's not how it works-”
“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation.
“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?”
Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks.
“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?”
The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood.
“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces.
“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little.
“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?”
“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.
"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!”
Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve.
You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word.
“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.”
The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going.
“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.”
The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted.
“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.”
“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him.
“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-”
“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?”
The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy.
“It was that obvious?”
“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too.
“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.”
“Secret part?”
“To make the other baby, silly!”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid kid fic
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
✎ sweet felicity
- gojo satoru x reader
what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?
genre:
teeth-rotting fluff and comfort because no—i can't make his birthday angsty ok
note:
so this is my entry for the birthday boy <3 this takes place immediately after daddy-to-be, where the first years are still yuta, maki, panda and toge
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
Honestly? Satoru wondered about it a lot these days.
He already has everything he wanted—unparalleled cursed technique, a fairly happy life, a pretty wife, and just recently, a kid on the way.
But his birthday was in a week and it was as clear as a day that you were planning something for him.
“Come on, you can't fool me, sweets.”
He noticed that you had started waking up earlier than usual. Initially, he thought it was due to your morning sickness, but it turned out you were sneaking away to another room for an hour or two and only came out when it was around breakfast time.
Did you really think he wouldn't catch on? Satoru found himself torn between concern and amusement. He didn't want you to strain yourself—especially after your recent fainting spells—and yet a part of him was over the moon by the fact that you did it for him.
His eyes crinkled, twinkling with affection. “You're planning something for my birthday in the mornings lately. That's sweet, but you don't have to, really.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you so sure that it's for your birthday? I never said anything."
"Well, what else could it be? Unless you're cheating on me at six in the morning—"
"I have your spawn inside me, Gojo Satoru—"
"Don't call it ‘spawn’!" Satoru interjected with a theatrical gasp. "It's our very own little munchkin! Our love! Love!"
This was so ridiculous and you couldn't help yourself from giggling. And seeing you like that softened something inside him.
"Really, don't push yourself too hard," he said with a pout, resigned. "You need lots and lots of sleep."
"I'm not a baby, Satoru."
"Half of you is, so it makes you one!"
He was dramatic, but it was his own way to care because your husband was just wired that way.
You sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay… I know my limits. I will stop when I don't feel well, yeah? Besides, I won't have time to do it except in the mornings because I still have classes to teach.” It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with your answer so you added, “Just so you know, it's something I enjoy too.”
"Hmph," Satoru huffed, eyeing you petulantly. "It'd better be good, or I'll spank you."
If it were physically possible for your eyes to roll a full 360 degrees into the back of your head and back, they definitely would have. "Oh, you will adore it, I promise."
Well, it wasn't a part of the plan, but now that he had asked for it, you'd definitely add a twist in his gift...
Satoru connected the dots instantly when he saw yarn and needles—what else were you doing aside from knitting?
His sweet wife, who woke up early just to make a handmade gift for his birthday—ahh, his heart could've burst. It was so cute and so you, the warmhearted being that you were.
He would go back early today, he decided, as he strolled the halls of the Jujutsu High with a cheerful tune. You were certainly waiting back at home and he would shower you with love and praise just for your efforts alone these past few days.
And so, he would have never expected that when he received a call from Nanami that afternoon, his world would utterly shatter in the most terrifying way.
“Gojo-san, please, you must come back.” Nanami was always steadfast even in the direst situations. And yet, now he was breathing hard, and panicking. “Something happened. You must go back to your residence—”
In that moment all he could think of was you and his baby. His entire world. Were you hurt?
He didn’t dwell on it—or rather, he couldn’t. His fingers went to rip his blindfold off as a sense of exponential dread creeped in and threatened to engulf him whole—a very, very strange, unfamiliar feeling to him—and he teleported back to his haven in a blink of an eye.
He had been ready to unleash hell, to see you lying on your own pool of blood, or anything. No, that was something he could never be ready for, but he would somehow make it right—
“Ooh, there he is!”
“Already?!”
“Nevermind—”
—and suddenly, he was swept into a whirlwind of confusion and commotion.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOJO-SENSEI!”
Today is December 7.
It took a while for Satoru to discern everything, with his pulsating heartbeats and the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from each and every face who were suddenly in his house, searching for yours—
“Satoru!” you greeted him from behind Nanami, radiantly beaming, and only then could he finally breathe. You are safe—you’re well—
You had meant for it as a joke, a little payback for all the grievances he had caused you—and let’s not forget, Nanami—but you immediately regretted it when you had a look over the absolute terror in his heavenly blue eyes that you loved so much.
You had seen this once, before, when he proposed to you.
“Satoru.” You waltzed towards him, gently cradling his stunned face in your hands. “Hey,” you coaxed him with an apologetic smile, reassuring him of your presence.
Satoru looked at you squarely in the eyes, and as he fully took in the sight of you, he let out a shuddering breath and pulled you close with a firm arm around your waist and and the other around your back.
“You evil woman,” he murmured in your ears, and you could feel the slight tremble of his body and the way his heart was still thumping wildly inside his sturdy chest, which made you feel even more sorry.
“Whoa, that got you good, huh?” Panda remarked with a bemused grin.
“As expected,” Megumi snorted.
“Salmon! Salmon!”
“Ehh, that’s actually sweet…” Maki noted thoughtfully. “I would have never expected him to drop everything that fast just to go back here only after a suspicious phone call—”
“Of course he would!” Yuta rebuked with pride. “It’s his wife after all! And Nanami-san truly did a really convincing job at it!”
Nanami. Satoru casted a stern glare toward his junior, while the man in question awkwardly coughed. How did you even involve him in this?
Nah, he would deal with him later.
Despite the scare that got him good, your little plan commenced as it should. The closest of his friends and students were there to throw him this silly birthday party, as well as shower him with a plethora of gifts.
You had managed to round up his students to write birthday wishes for him in a scrap book filled with various photographs throughout the past year. This is sweet, he thought.
And one note tugged at his heartstrings the most:
Thank you, sensei, for everything — Yuta.
If anything he did ever made an impact on those young sorcerers, then Satoru was wholeheartedly glad. He wanted them to grow and made their own path in this unforgiving world, and their gratitude stirred a profound sense of relief within him.
“Here.” He was genuinely surprised when Megumi abruptly pushed a long, thin box toward him next, shyly averting his gaze. “Happy birthday.”
A fountain pen. It must have costed him some. It was strange, but Satoru felt oddly emotional.
The kid was barely six when he first approached him. He was prickly and sour and definitely wasn't welcoming. And then, he had matured right before his eyes. Satoru couldn’t help ruffling his hair vigorously and snickered, disregarding the scowl directed his way.
Nanami extended his well-wishes, and even though he still had a score to settle with him later, he was happy to have him here. Shoko couldn’t come but she left you with a recorded message.
“Happy birthday, Gojo, idiot,” Shoko was grinning in the video you played. “I'm sorry I can't be there, but my wish is for you to tone down your antics. We could all use a bit less of that.”
The two remaining reminders of the bluest spring in his life. Something pricked his heart at the stark reminder that they were not whole—and if only that someone was here, they would—but the fact that these two thought of him was enough.
And now, at last, it was time for your gift. Satoru thought he knew what it was, but as he carefully opened the ivory box, a profound sense of warmth still washed over him.
Mittens, with the color of freshly fallen snow, lay in the box—two pairs in total. One was remarkably tiny, seemingly tailored for a baby, while the other was notably larger, undoubtedly meant for him.
You. Him. The baby. By this time next year, there would be three of you. The happy picture of all of you together in near future was a gift in and of itself. You two are his everything.
Satoru went by his instincts and grasped your arm, crashing his lips against yours ardently, beaming with the broadest grin. He paid no heed to the squeals and disapproving glances from everyone around, as he felt entitled to do so—declaring his love boldly so you would know… that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you.
That he was grateful for you in this otherwise dreary life.
And that if there were any other lives he might live after this ended... then he hoped the heavens would always bring you back to him—and for you to always choose him just like this, no matter what.
Epilogue
“So you really did call Nanami at six in the morning.”
Later that night, just before bed, your husband was still holding a grudge on you for frightening him back in the day, evident by the permanent purse of his lips.
You shrugged, buttoning the last button of your sleepwear. “I did… but it’s for greater purpose, so… yeah.”
“I can’t stand this. I’m suing you for collateral damage.”
You almost laughed. “Pffft—what? What damage—”
“My fragile heart! You can’t do that to me and expect I won’t charge you!”
“Well…” You noted with a meaningful smile. You couldn’t say you didn’t expect this, because Satoru always got pouty whenever he was irked in one way or another, and so in advance, you had actually been prepared for this.
You caught him off guard when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing his undercut. It was a nice change of pace, seeing the faint blush coloring his cheeks as he steadied you by your waist.
“…what if I say… I still have one present left for you?”
So, what did you get a man who already has everything for his birthday?
Your whole heart, of course.
And if you were in the mood for an additional surprise, a brand new pair of lacy lingerie you had under your pajamas might do the trick.
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk x you#gojo x reader#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#gojo satoru fluff#dad!gojo#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.
— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit
𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡
y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹
@ y/nxx
if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom
11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views
bokkie 🐣 liked your post.
“My tweet?”
You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.
“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"
A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:
je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀
You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"
je0ng1n: i’m on break
je0ng1n: taking a dump
je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch
You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."
je0ng1n: HEY
je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(
An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”
At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.
“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”
Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.
You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.
je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO
je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again
“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."
Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”
You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“The mouse,” you say helplessly.
“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”
A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”
“I know.”
This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.
Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.
Do you agree? Absolutely.
Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.
Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.
A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.
But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.
There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.
The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.
A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.
“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.
It’s either your mom, or…
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.
“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"
“Yes, please.”
He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.
You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.
There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.
That is all he needs to know.
Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.
je0ng1n: no way
je0ng1n: no fucking way
je0ng1n: my heart fluttered
je0ng1n: wtf
je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??
y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.
𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
#felix x reader#skz x reader#lee felix x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#felix imagines#lee felix imagines#felix fluff#lee felix fluff#k-labels#lee felix#stray kids#skz imagines#felix scenarios#lee felix scenarios#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#stray kids scenarios#*writing#*minific#this was very fun to write ehe my inner gamer came alive#oh to be able to queue up with hot housemate lix :(
6K notes
·
View notes
Note
BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE
what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???
THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT
And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear
Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.
Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t
M.I.A
Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758
Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.
Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.
It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.
He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.
All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.
Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.
He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.
Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.
He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.
His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.
You aren’t in bed.
He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.
The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.
Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.
Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.
He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.
You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.
“Want a glass, too?”
Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.
He just wants you back in bed with him.
He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.
You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"
He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.
Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.
Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.
You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.
He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.
Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."
Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.
You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.
Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.
Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd fic#dc#jason todd x fem!reader#red hood#jason todd x you#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x reader#red hood x you#cw gun mention#dc x reader#dc fic#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd x male!reader#jason todd x gn!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.
“Have you called Maeve?”
She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?
He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with.
Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them.
“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.
“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”
“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”
She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks.
Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me.
She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response.
Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.
She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it.
Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office.
She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief.
She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share.
He does not want to call Maeve.
The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.
“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”
Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.
He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess.
He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.
“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”
“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”
“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“
“Then why-“
“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”
He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it.
She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now.
All the cards are in her hands.
Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this.
“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”
It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him.
“How could I not be? It’s you.”
It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up.
A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount.
“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“
He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable.
When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life.
“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”
He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back.
It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits.
She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back.
On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything.
He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though.
#spencer reid#spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
before my nails dig
summary. in which one of Astarion's especially vivid nightmares results in him waking up to Tav at the mercy of his own hands...and the shame that comes with it.
warnings. angst, fluff, comfort
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. someone pls get this man therapy that's all i ask,,, also this takes place sometime during act 3 before you confront cazador!! first post too so pls forgive typos
Had breathing always been this hard?
It's not like he had to breathe anyway. The undead have more perks than one would think, and having no need for air was one that became particularly useful in unexpected ways. Yet as he stands in Cazador's dungeon again--a place he longs to rid from the darkest corners of his mind--all he can do is stumble over his own breath, crimson eyes darting around frantically in search of an exit.
And suddenly, his siblings are at the mercy of the ascension, floating helplessly in the chains of a red aura--Cazador's aura. Despite the chaos, Astarion's eyes narrow in on the one pedestal with no occupant, and he realizes it's his own designated place.
It's getting harder to breathe now.
A breath creeps up behind his shoulder, sending pure dread throughout his entire body as he hears Cazador's voice far too close than he ever wanted it to be.
"Wake up, child. This is all you've ever been meant for."
Astarion whips around and lunges at the man, his hands wrapping viciously around the throat he's fantasized about ripping apart for the past two hundred years. His nails dig into the flesh of the vampire lord's neck, leaving indents in the shape of crescent moons, just enough to cause panic but not enough to draw blood. But Cazador only cackles, his eyes staring right into Astarion's as he hollers over and over again.
"Wake up."
"Wake up!"
"--Astarion!"
The spawn's eyes snap open, recognition finally flooding his expression as he finds himself staring down at you. The very face he sees in the softest of dreams, the lips he longs to kiss at every waking moment, and the eyes that gaze at him with the love and adoration he's been missing for most of his wretched eternal life. Though he'd never admit it, you saved him. From the moment he'd threatened your life at the nautiloid crash to the moment he held you close to his chest in the confines of his tent, he would be by your side until you tired of him and threw him away.
All he wanted--all he could wish for--was only a fraction of it in return. And you'd given him that, and so much more.
But now, you're scared. Terrified, even. Of him.
With horror, he realizes his fingers are digging into your throat. Your precious, tender throat that you offer him not for something in return, but simply because you care for him.
All at once as he tears his hands away, he wants to cut them off and bury himself in his own grave again. He doesn't meet your eyes, afraid of what disgust might be held in them, but he knows you're too kind for that. Too kind to see the kind of monster he is.
You're gasping for your breath, and his stomach knots in a way that would have sent him hurling if it weren't for the fact that he's too occupied drinking in what he's done. To you.
"I'm okay, I'm okay, Astarion," you choke out, perching on both your elbows as you struggle to recover. Even now, all you seem to care about is him. He almost hates you for it--hates you for not stabbing a stake through his heart the moment his hands met your neck. "Astarion-"
"Your throat," he croaks, despising the slight crack of his voice as he reaches for your cheek, but stops before he even gets close. He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth again.
"It's okay, really, I can just get Shadowheart to heal me," you shake your head, and he finds himself in disbelief as you crawl toward him, tossing the sheets to the side. He shifts the slightest away and you understand, immediately sitting back down. You look like you want to say something, but you close your mouth and watch him patiently, as if waiting for him to make the first move.
After a suffocating silence, he turns his back to you. "I'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight."
He intends of never sharing a room with you again, in fear of what he could possibly do to you as a result of his selfish desires to keep you close, and you seem to pick up on the tone of his words. You always do. "Astarion, please."
"I do apologize, sincerely. I'll form a better apology tomorrow, but for now, I'll fetch Shadowheart or that damned wizard and-"
He fights the urge to shiver when he feels your hand on his. How you manage to have such an impact on him with a simple touch he does not know, and does not care because all he wants is more. To pull you close, to beg you to keep him, to use him, to punch him, strangle him for all he cared, in hopes you'll even consider ever speaking to him again. Instead, he turns to look at you.
Gods, you're beautiful.
Even with those terrible bruises he'd go to hell and earth to take back, your beauty in unmatched with anything he's ever seen. Even with the bed hair and the anxiousness pursing your lips, he can't bring himself to look away again.
"Please stay. I'm not mad, nor afraid."
The words sound like honey on your tongue.
"Please," You say again, slowly this time. "Stay."
His chest feels tight, threatening to tear itself apart as his voice comes out in a crooked whisper. "I could have killed you."
"You didn't."
"If you died too, I don't know--what would I even do with myself? What would I-" He hates it when he sounds like this. Vulnerable, or as Cazador liked to call it: pathetic. But he can't help the words tumbling out his blasted mouth with the way you're gazing at him with nothing but worry. Somehow, with you, it feels strange.
Refreshing, almost.
Your hand squeezes around his as if to remind him you're still here. He meets your eyes again and it's all it takes to break what little will he has left, as he lets you pull him close in a crushing hug--one that's all too welcomed.
And as the two of you lie awake in each other's embrace, he thanks all the gods he doesn't worship for putting you on his path.
#baldur's gate 3#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate astarion#fluff#angst with a happy ending#light angst#bg3#bg3 astarion#bg3 x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Missionary with the lights off
We're back in Act 1 again! I swear I'll start moving forward now that I'm playing the game again, after this.
Astarion x Tav, Astarion x F!Reader
18+, blood drinking, fluff to smut, porn with plot, PIV
Pst, don't let the title mislead you too much
Approx. 1,800 words
You woke up in Astarion's tent.
Last night had been… unusual. Something you said had soured the mood for anything sexual. Instead you stayed up talking late into the night. You hadn't even taken your clothes off.
You'd never spent the whole night together before, always opting to make your way back to your respective tents eventually, after your nocturnal activities, but then again you’d spent those previous nights opening your legs more so than your heart. Something had now shifted a little.
The last thing you remembered was drifting off with your face nuzzled into his neck as he draped an arm over you, having hugged him on a whim and finding yourself not wanting to let go. What you saw now was completely contrary to that memory, as you found yourself lying on your side, with Astarion's head pressed against your chest, right over your heart, both arms holding you close. He must have moved himself while you were asleep.
He looked perfectly at peace. It was actually adorable, seeing the prickly rogue like this.
You reached out to softly run your hand over his disarrayed curls, when he also stirred.
“Hello, darling,” you purred, copying his habitual greeting for you.
Astarion was startled, suddenly jolting up. He seemed momentarily disoriented, taking in you and his surroundings for a few moments before comprehension returned to his eyes.
“Are you alright..?” you asked. “I know it's first thing in the morning, but surely I don't look that disturbing.”
“Yes, sorry… I just… I can’t remember the last time I woke up next to someone,” he said finally.
“The night at the clearing..?” you offered.
“I didn’t sleep that night,” he admitted. “And now there's a woman in my tent and I don't know what to do. ...Ahah..! Refresh my memory, what is the protocol? Do I need to make you breakfast?” he joked.
“I’m sure Gale’s already working on that,” you grinned.
Astarion laid back down next to you, propped up on an elbow. He gave you an odd half-smile with a slight frown, his eyes narrowed. Not unkindly, but rather a bit… awkwardly. You wondered what he was thinking.
You ignored the odd look, and instead your eyes wandered up to survey his bedhead. No trace of pomade was left in his hair, instead some of it was standing on end, while other, longer strands started to fall over his eyes as he leaned on his hand, watching you.
“What is going on here..?” you laughed, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into your hand as you ran your fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes, his lips widening into a genuine smile. He reminded you of a cat that was enjoying a head scratch.
“I don't have the slightest idea, darling,” he drawled. “But I guess you have to die after all, now that you've seen it.”
“You are a horrible flirt, you know, and I don't mean that in a good way."
“It works on you, doesn't it?” he shrugged, grinning and leaning in for a kiss.
“Hmm, but returning to breakfast,” you said, breaking the kiss as his lips slowly made their way down to your neck. “What about you? Fancy a nibble?”
“If it's on offer…” Astarion purred, continuing his way down. He knew your body entirely too well at this point. His lips lingered on the exact spot that made your breath shudder, sending a wave of shivers all through you. “Where..?”
“Right there,” you breathed.
“Oh? You want me to leave my mark on you, right where everyone can see..?” he murmured, continuing to kiss your neck. You usually offered him your wrist.
“It’s not like they don’t already know what we’ve been doing, so sure, mark me...” you replied. “Mark me as yours,” you added in a hoarse whisper.
Once the words were out you wondered if it was too much, but Astarion clearly liked the idea. He liked it a lot, judging by the soft growl he let out, as he continued to trail his lips along your neck, searching for just the right spot. You knew he'd found it, you remembered where he's bitten you before, but instead of going in for a bite he toyed with you, leaving slow, deliberate licks, until you released a small moan, and only then sank his fangs in you, lightly grinding his hips into yours as he did.
Something about a vampire's bite made it quite unlike anything else. It started off as a sharp, icy chill, gradually spreading and melting into something that stung the way an itch strings right before you scratch it, multiplied tenfold. The only way to relieve that stinging sensation was to give into it, more and more. The area bitten remained tender and sensitive in the most erogenous way for a long time after the bite itself. The whole experience was inherently erotic, no matter where the bite was.
You understood why this was fetishised. You also understood how people happily allowed themselves to be bled dry.
Astarion continued to grind against you, slowly, his erection evident. This was nothing new and didn't necessarily mean anything - you’ve joked before that any blood he drank went straight to his dick before going anywhere else – which is why you usually did this privately, even when he drank from your wrist.
However, this time, you really didn't want it to just be casual. You didn't think he did either, the way he was breathing. One of your hands was caught in his hair at the back of his head, the other trailed down to his hips, squeezing, as he grinded into you harder, making you crave more.
And then it was over and you felt a profound sense of disappointment and loss, as Astarion gave your neck a few final licks and broke away from you, lifting his body from yours. The only contact that remained between you two was your eyes, as he gave you an unwavering look of barely contained lust.
The aching need between your legs had become unbearable.
One heartbeat... Two... Three...
Astarion’s lips crashed into yours.
Suddenly, without a single word, you found yourselves tearing at each other’s pants in an urgent rush to remove them.
Curse them, you thought. You would start sleeping in a nightgown, if you managed to find one. Or naked. Or steal Astarion’s shirt.
You thought you recognised some elvish curses as Astarion snarled, struggling to pull your pants off without lifting his body from you, biting your lip as you managed to twist and free one leg, the other pant leg left danging at your knee.
All the while, you’d been tearing at the lacing on Astarion’s pants, managing to undo it just enough to slide them low enough to release his pulsing cock.
You didn’t even bother with your shirts. You had a burning, ravenous hunger, and it had to be sated. Immediately.
You tugged on Astarion’s cock, impatiently guiding it towards your throbbing pussy. You had no time or eagerness or wish for any teasing or foreplay, only a carnal, animalistic need. You’d barely aligned Astarion’s dick with your entrance when he plunged himself into you, fully, with another swear through gritted teeth.
Finally, you felt complete.
There was no rhythm, decency or finesse to what followed, the only way you could describe it was mindless, feral rutting. You dug your fingers into his hips, trying to bring him closer, deeper, moaning as his tongue writhed against yours. He couldn’t be close enough - even had you melded into one you would still want more of him.
You spread your legs wide, angling your hips so his body hit your exposed clit with every thrust, and bucked into him, desperately. He changed his thrusts to a more rolling motion, rubbing into you.
“Yes... Like that...” you barely managed.
There was a commotion, a loud clanking, crashing sound and some yelling outside.
“Astarion!” you heard Wyll’s voice just outside the tent, shortly after.
"Fuck,” Astarion growled under his breath. “Three minutes!” he shouted.
Three minutes? Then again, you didn’t think you were going to last even another minute.
Astarion covered your mouth with his hand as his hips continued to relentlessly grind you into the floor of his tent. Your whimpers grew more drawn out until your body stilled before breaking into tremors emanating from your hips, as he continued to fuck you. You were holding on to his back for dear life, bringing your legs up to wrap tightly around his hips, moaning into his hand as you came.
Immediately, he changed his rolling thrusts to something frantic, grabbing your hand and bringing it over your head, and catching your knee at his elbow and bringing it up with his other arm. He buried his face in your neck, moaning, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, until he slammed his hips into you with a final groan, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you.
“Astarion! This is urgent!” you heard Wyll again.
“He’s coming!” you yelled, exasperated, before you realised what you’d said.
Your words were greeted with a momentary silence, then the sound of Karlach laughing somewhat off in the distance.
Astarion was also laughing into your neck, his shoulders shaking even as he delivered his final thrusts.
“That was-” he panted between laughter, “the sloppiest... most unimaginative... objectively worst sex I've ever had.”
“And subjectively..?” you asked, also starting to laugh as you came off the sudden high that had overtaken you.
“I wouldn’t mind waking up to something like that every day for the rest of my life,” he said, lifting his head and looking at you.
“That can be arranged,” you purred.
There was that little frown again, as he cocked an eyebrow at you.
“We could always die today,” you shrugged.
“Funny...” he said. “Anyway... Good luck with this giant mess I left between your legs. I better go see what is so godsdamn important.”
Bonus scene:
“What do you mean, I’m the only adult here that knows how to manage a needle and thread?! And how do you even rip a bag of holding..?!”
“Astarion, our fate is in your hands.”
“No, you can carry your own shit from here on. I’m fine with just my weapons and the clothes on my back.”
“We need you, Astarion!”
“At least get rid of all the junk, what do we need a dozen goblin scimitars for, they’re not even worth anything!”
“Save us, Astarion!”
“Rotten carrots, rusty tongs... Is that literally just a rock?”
“Save us, 239-year-old vampire that can sew!”
Sigh... Astarion observed the torn bag with a resigned look.
“...Would you mind mending Clive as well, while you’ve got the kit out..? He’s been through hell and back. And looks it.”
“Yes, Karlach, I’ll fix up your teddy bear too...”
~~~~~
Mark me as yours - fic re the following day
I have a whole series with these two, check it out
AO3
#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 smut#astarion smut#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 fanfic#astarion fanfic#astarion romance
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Teddy bear // breeding Matt
Warnings: major breeding kink / lowkey dad Matt / creampie / fingering / female stimulation / established relationship / spit kink / hair pulling / classic missionary position / major praise kink / cum kink / unprotected sex (pls don’t do this) / slight male stimulation / mommy kink (sort of?)
Summary: after a visit to see your neighbour Darrel’s new born baby girl, Matt is so in awe of her that he decides to exercise an age old kink he has on you later that night.
Author’s notes: FINALLY. This one’s been highly anticipated for a while now so I hope you all enjoy reading about my favourite kink to pair with Matt in the whole entire world. Obviously it’s not for everyone, so if u don’t like this kind of thing just don’t read it and politely move along... but, BABIES. Plus yes, the reader is on the pill for heavens sake!! Wrap it before you tap it people. (Also happy early birthday to my sweet @asturniolos this one is for you baby girl ;)).
“But lately you’ve been feeling so good, I forget my future, never pull out” - Prom, SZA
‘Oh- my god’ Matt squeaks with his mouth parted slightly and a twinkle in his eye as soon as your neighbour’s baby girl is dropped into his awaiting arms. The pastel pink blanket swaddled around her squirming body falls gently over Matt’s cradling hand, he automatically starts to bounce her.
‘Hi little girl’ he tucks his chin into his neck and mumbles gently down to the sleeping girl that smacks her lips with her eyelashes feathered. She wriggles about in her sleep, her little mittened fingers tiredly stretching up and then falling to tuck back into the warmth of her blanket.
This almost makes Matt swoon. He struggles to hide his peep of delight at the baby’s action, his smile splitting his cheeks whilst his eyes quickly flick down to yours.
You smile happily up at him, knowing how long he had been waiting to see your neighbour Darrel’s newborn. As soon as you told him Darrel’s wife had birthed a healthy baby girl he had constantly been pestering and poking you to take him to go and see her.
He had been talking about it all morning and as soon as you two had entered the threshold of Darrel’s house he had been practically bouncing off of the ceilings to have a go at holding her.
‘So I take it Lily didn’t disappoint your expectations then?’ Darrel chuckles whilst Matt slowly rocks the blanketed baby from side to side, looking at her with an adoration that only comes from a man that wants one of his own. He then repositions her within the nest of his arms so that he can lift one of his hands up to poke his pointer finger out.
‘Ahw she’s so small’ he coos in disbelief.
Softly feathering his fingertip against Lily’s little appled cheek, he traces it around her soft skin, tickling her face until her nose scrunches and she opens her mouth to babble sleepily.
‘Isn’t she just’ Darrell sighs.
Matt felt as though he could just melt into a puddle of pink joyful goo, he never wants to let go of the small child, he’s in too much admiration over how little she is.
The tiny pink shells of her lips, her soft head of blonde hair, and her whispy little eyelashes. All of these features make him subtly glance back down to you, his sweetly mature girlfriend. He bites his lips at the ‘what if?’ possibilities he fantasises in his head.
It’s almost concerning how easy it is for Matt to imagine Lily as his own baby girl gently balanced within his protective arms like a smooth little pebble worth treasuring. He utterly adores her as he stands in his white sweater and grey beanie, the weight in his arms as light as a feather.
When a person wants something, it’s easy to tell, because when you look at what you want there always seems to be this sharp tug in your gut that lets you know how desperately you want it.
Well… Matt’s heart squeezes, and his gut contorts at yet again another action of the sweet baby girl within his arms mumbling and then tilting her head to the side so that she can snuggle further back into the blanket surrounding her.
Matt really fucking wanted a baby.
‘She really is’ you decide to chime into the conversation, agreeing with an awestruck Matt that looks as though he’s on the verge of tears because of how cute Lily is. You know that Matt absolutely adores children, so the sight alone of his sunny beam down at Lily’s chubby face makes your posterior soften. You blush at the look of him effortlessly cradling the baby within his arms before subtly squeezing your thighs together and biting your lip.
Fuck. This shouldn’t make you throb in between your legs as much as it does.
‘Oh that reminds me, Matt and I thought it would be nice to buy Lily a little welcome home present…’ you begin again, trying to distract yourself by catching Darrel’s attention. You lean over from your position on the couch to riffle around in your bag, until you find what you’re looking for. ‘Ah, here it is!’ you mumble triumphantly and wrap your fingers around the soft furry body of the little teddy bear Matt had insisted on buying for Lily.
‘Can we please get her a teddy’ he had begged you the day before, with sparkling eyes and a pout that you just couldn’t refuse.
So you had both gone down the stuffed animal isle of a store and Matt had let you pick out a small brown bear with beady black eyes and a button nose before taking it with him and happily going off to pay for it whilst instructing you to go and wait for him in the car.
Later that day you had wanted to personalise it and so decided to go to the dollar store and pick up a roll of pink ribbon, cutting off a strip and tying it around one of the teddy’s arms into a sweet little bow.
Your smile only increases the more you pull it out of the bag because of just how adorable it is. You had been itching to give it to Darrel for a while now.
As soon as he realises what it is, his eyes soften. ‘Oh goodness, you two didn’t have to do that, it’s lovely…’ he gushes, reaching out to take the teddy bear from your offering palms, to which Matt can’t help but crack a smile at your pretty face.
He cuts into Darrel’s rambling to put him at ease. ‘It’s alright- we wanted to do this for you guys, Lily deserves all of the teddies in the world! Don’t you honey?’ He affirms, before cheesing as he looks down at Lily to speak to her in a high-pitched babied voice, the kind of voice you would use when speaking to a puppy.
‘Really. It’s very nice of you, I’m sure Lily will love it… might have to wait till she gets a bit bigger to actually understand what it is though…’ Darrel cracks a joke, and both you and Matt laugh fondly. However, the vibrations in Matt’s chest manage to wake Lily up, and she opens her big doe eyes sleepily to look up at Matt in confusion.
This catches Matt’s attention and he gazes down at her, admiring the glassiness of her irises before gently shushing her and rocking her back to sleep.
‘Well what d’ya know Matt… you’re a natural, mind babysitting with your girlfriend every once in a while? Could use the help’
Both you and Matt make excited eye contact, not much persuasion needed to take special care of the tiny little angel lying in Matt’s arms.
‘We wouldn’t mind at all Darrel…’
*
You and Matt have been quietly laying in bed for a while now, one of his bedside lamps twinkling on a low setting as he sleepily rests his head on top of yours. He spoons you, his warm chest cozy and his bigger arms cocooning you into him further as his massive palms splay about either side of your ribcage. He gently strokes the pads of his thumbs over your dewy skin and occasionally will press a lazy but affirming kiss to your temple before groaning and settling back down again.
You have your eyes closed, fully relaxed as Matt threads his haired legs in between your smoothened ones, his bearded face scratching your cheek every single time he squirms around ever so slightly to reposition himself.
The room is silent aside from the subtle squeaks of his springy mattress underneath his weight and each of your gentle breaths mingling with one another.
Suddenly Matt’s chest expands, and he heaves a deepened sigh, his cheeks reddening shyly at the thought he conjures up in his mind. He’s suddenly really quite horny, and the quietness within the room prompts him to start thinking about the hold he currently has over your body, and what he could be doing to it instead.
The atmosphere in the room turns hot, and Matt almost starts to overheat because his cheeks burn so much. He swallows thickly and allows his mind to wander, electrical pulses making their way down his lower half and tightening up his pants.
You of course, are oblivious to this sudden change in mood.
That is, until Matt starts to feather one of his stroking hands down your torso ever so slightly. It tickles, and his hand raises goosebumps wherever it touches, especially when his pinkie subtly nestles its way into the top of your panties, dipping downward before pulling back out and snapping the elastic waistband onto your skin suggestively. You catch on to this and furrow your brows with playful suspiciousness.
‘Matt… what are you doing?’ You muse cheekily, already clearly know what his intentions are because now you can feel his prick, its thickness hard and needy for you as it presses into your backside.
Matt doesn’t answer, instead lets out a shaky breath and simply leans his scratchy face back into your cheek to press a spongy kiss onto the now pink skin.
As he does this, the hand down at your core sensually slides over your underwear.
Matt bites his lip as he feels warm dampness already emanating from your centre when sliding two of his fingers down into the cushion of your thighs.
He touches you, slowly, teasingly, rubbing the pads of his fingers in a circular motion as he presses them into your clothed clit. This makes your folds ache, and you hiss, arching your back away from him. But Matt grunts at this and still manages to keep his torturous hand all over you, his other arm tightening around your torso and hauling you back to him aggressively.
‘Shhh, you stay put now angel’ he hushes, mumbling into your skin as you whine meekly, one of your hands coming up to squeeze the arm that is slithered around your chest whilst the other one grapples to grip onto something below Matt’s silky brown sheets. That thing you yearn to grab onto just so happens to end up being Matt’s thigh, that is clothed in his red pyjama bottoms.
You squeeze his strong muscle and feed your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.
You then feel his smirk on your cheek as his hand begins the horrifying descent back upwards. This time, it slips underneath your underwear. ‘If you can’t hand my fingers I dread to think of how much of a mess I’m gonna make of you with my cock…’
Your breath hitches as two of his fingers slide right down your sticky slit, gathering up as much wetness as he can before stretching out your hole. This time instead of hissing, you let out a breathy moan.
‘What? Not got anything to say back to me baby?’ He taunts you when you refuse to even think about trying to formulate a proper sentence after the soft curl of his fingers around your velveteen walls. He strokes them at a languid pace.
Matt sighs when all you do is breathe heavily, ‘you’re so soft around my fingers honey… gonna feel so fucking nice around my cock too, aren’t you?’.
Your toes curl at Matt’s sweetened praise, his worship of your physicality smelling like strong vanilla scented candles and melting over your body like a dollop of sugary ice cream.
Matt loves to praise you, you’re always so good for him, and he would spend hours with his head in between your thighs just to show you how much he loved you if he could.
Kiss after kiss, his tongue layering up your dripping centre as he forces his fingers into your mouth to swallow how loud you’re being with his eyes constantly trained on just how euphoric he’s making you feel.
‘Fuck- y-yes Matt, m’always ready for you…’
You finally muster the words to express how you’re feeling, and they tumble from your mouth like a broken melody, the result of them making Matt grin even harder. He’s feeling especially bold tonight, the memory of bouncing Lily on his hip still fresh in his mind and prompting him to relay his fantasy freely onto your awaiting figure.
Suddenly, he’s sliding his fingers out of their teasing hold over your sopping wet cunt, before moving away from you and rolling you onto your back.
Matt hungrily licks away at his fingers whilst doing this, wanting to taste you whilst you’re at your freshest and untainted by him.
The sight before him makes his prick drip with precome, sticky white fluid uncontrollably seeping from out of his tip as soon as he catches how pink and alive you look. It wets his underwear and almost makes him shiver, the thought of devouring you right then and there.
Sliding your shirt up for himself, he peers down at your tits to see that your nipples have already hardened just for him, the cooler air helping with their stiffness. Matt’s mouth waters at the sight of them.
‘Hmm, holding that baby today really got me thinking about how pretty you’d look with one of mine…’ he breathlessly mumbles, dipping his head down to suck on your bottom lip. His hands soon after slip up to cup just beneath your tits that pebble and ache to be coated in his spit.
You utter a quick whine of approval back at him, your own hands trailing up his goose-bumped flesh to touch the soft scruffiness of the hair on the back of his head.
He smirks at your responsive nature. ‘Yeah? Want me to give you my babies? Fucking fill you up and keep my cock in there n’breed you?’.
Matt’s cock throbs at even the thought of this, the thought of rutting his hips into you so fast that you start to drool with your tits shaking and your back arching for his cum. The cum that he’s going to have you absolutely swollen with by the end of the night. He doesn’t want a single drip leaking out of your hole, he’ll cockwarm you if he has to, simply to hold it in there with his own slickness.
‘Please Matt… you can- you can do whatever you want to me’ you shamelessly plead, the heat between your thighs juicing up and wetting your panties, already readying you for him. He smirks at this, his pretty blue eyes twinkling as he gives your mouth one more sloppy kiss before moving downward.
‘Fucking gorgeous’ his mouth muffles upon contact of your tits as soon as he decides to take one of them into his mouth and wetly kiss on it ‘gorgeous tits… all for me yeah? All mine?’ He questions possessively, one of his hands curling around your spare breast and squeezing it wholeheartedly.
‘All yours Matt- all fucking yours’ you reply in a breathless stupor, liking the way he sucks your tit and gently rolls around your nipple with his hot tongue.
‘These tits gonna be for my baby hm?’ He questions patronisingly after pulling away from your now sticky skin, a couple of purpling marks bruising to the surface of your delicate flesh where his mouth just hadn’t been able to help itself.
Your back arches and you hum a whine in agreement, vigorously nodding your head before letting Matt roll you two around so that now your thighs are gently straddling him and he is leaning against the headboard of his bed, the silk sheets underneath you two making him slump downwards a little.
‘Wanna make you a mommy so bad… would you do that for me? Take all of my cum and keep it? I want you to be selfish with it baby…want you to be greedy for more of it’.
It’s no secret that Matt has a smooth tongue. You two spend hours rolling around in the sheets, playing with each other as he makes sure to utilise it in whatever way he possibly can. But, for some reason his words have been hitting extremely different tonight. As though he has flipped a switch and pulled out all of the stops to lay it on extra thick.
Clearly, that time with you and Lily earlier had affected him in the most filthiest of ways.
Matt has shared words of breeding you before, but never to this extent, and you hate to admit it, but fuck does it soak you more than usual. Maybe just both of you being around the baby this morning makes it all seem extra real as he starts to roll your hips into a grinding motion over his bulge, but whatever it is, it’s working.
Both of you hold blushing eye contact as Matt does this, his mouth hung open and his eyes dilated. Fuck. You can physically feel the throbbing heartbeat sitting from in between his legs as he harshly grinds you over himself and releases raggedy whimpers into the air. You can tell he’s pent up, he needs you terribly, he wants you selfishly. He would fucking die for a feel of your walls sucking against his naked skin, it’s all he’s ever yearning for.
‘I want your cum Matt… please- please give it to me’ you freely beg, your head tilted down to look at him as the heated atmosphere boils in between the two of you. Your tits quickly become a focal point of interest for him before you get up off of his lap to speedily take off your slick underwear.
You toss them somewhere into Matt’s room and hear the fabric hit the floor gently. Matt gazes at your frantic figure with some form of satisfaction, his smugness evident due to the way you had absolutely begged for his cum.
He tilts his head and observes the way you clamber back onto his thighs, your hair all tussled and your skin lighting up with honeyed brilliance in the warm lamp light, casting beautiful contours all over your tits.
‘There’s a good girl’ he quips, before giving in to your expectant hands that wander alongside the waistband of his pyjamas. He simply cannot resist your puppyish eyes that stare at him to take them off. He lifts his hips up and feeds one of his hands into both his pants and underwear that teasingly travel downwards at a slow pace.
After Matt’s cock springs free, it careens back to hit his stomach and leave a wet dribble of precum near his dark snail trail. His tip is red and the veins popping over his thickness almost hurt to look at.
You swallow and start to shyly edge your way forwards, but not before leaning over to look inside of his bedside drawer. Your attention is focused on trying to rifle around Matt’s things, but he only has eyes for you, and can’t help but quickly lift his hand up to his lip line so that he can spit a thick dollop of saliva onto it.
He spreads it all over his cock and whimpers a little at how sensitive he feels whilst your hand skirts over the outline of his car keys, his rings, his wallet… until you find exactly what you’re looking for. Selecting a foil wrapper out of the drawer you messily close it once again with your chest heaving and a dewy layer of perspiration coating it.
Your weepy centre stings now, because it hasn’t been touched for a while, and you can’t squeeze your thighs together for traction because you’re currently straddling Matt’s.
You hand him the condom wrapper and he closes it within his thumb and pointer finger, before looking down at it in contemplation. After taking about 3 seconds of silence, he looks back up at you with a smirk, your hands already propped up on his shoulders for support.
You watch in horny silence as Matt effortlessly chucks the condom away. ‘We’re not gonna need one of those’ he quips as the wrapper patters gently to the mattress, now completely forgotten about in favour of Matt wanting to feel everything.
You didn’t think it was even possible to get wetter in attraction, but you were wrong.
Butterflies press against your gut as one of Matt’s hands slither up to the back of your neck. His fingertips thread into your locks and he gets a firm hold over the roots of your hair before dragging you down to have your lips on his once again.
He forces his tongue into your mouth, his desperation present with every stuttering moan he takes as he somehow manages to push you onto your back, his torso toppling over yours to change the power dynamic between the two of you once more. His fluffed hair is ruffled and bushy, his beard dark and prickly as it scrapes against the skin of your face with every twist of his tongue.
‘Always so pretty when you’re wet for me sweetheart, want my baby to have your eyes’ he mumbles through every clash of your teeth, kissing you so vigorously that sometimes he has to bite and pull on your bottom lip. He drinks you like he’s desperate for water, and you’re the only cold spring around- not that you complain though.
These thoughts only make your back arch up into his stomach, your core beyond desperate to be stretched out by him now.
‘Matt… please touch me baby- m’so sore’ you cry up into his lips, meekly pleading for him to comply and give you what you need.
And he does. Pulling away he smirks at you before trailing his nose down your jaw and focussing his kisses onto your neck. He sucks on the supple flesh there, and as he does so, makes sure to grasp ahold of his prick so that he can paint it all the way over your pink clit.
The moment his head crowns through your folds is a moment of extreme pleasure, and Matt stops all of what he’s doing to possessively look down at your face whilst he slides himself inside of you.
You suck him in, and his hot skin cushions perfectly around you. He fucking loves stretching you out like this and listening to the way you let out mangled sounds of discomfort, it lets him know he’s big and it strokes his ego when you whine in pain because of how full you feel.
‘Shit… I’m never gonna get used to that…’ your voice shakes with your nose scrunching up sensitively, but Matt hushes you gently. ‘Shhh baby… I know, I know it hurts, but you’re being such a good girl, love when you let me know how nice and thick I am’.
You nod, trying to only pay attention to the way Matt soothingly strokes the backs of your thighs with his fingertips as he pushes himself deeper into your throbbing heat.
Matt makes sure to hitch them around his hips and hook your legs over his back so that the balls of your feet can brush against his ass, because it stretches your inner thighs out further.
Matt fucking lusts the colour your cheeks turn whenever he fucks you, especially on a day like today. He groans as an overwhelming amount of pleasure overcomes him.
Neither of you are lasting long for this, that he already knows.
‘Fuck- I’m never wearing a condom again with you. You feel too good wrapped around me like this’ he whimpers, and slowly begins to start up a grind. He adores the way your chin falls back in euphoria as he starts to move you on the mattress, your thighs twitching and your slick walls stroking perfectly against his stickiness.
Your eyes twinkle up at him, his words managing to almost melt you on the spot. It’s not long before he picks up the pace, his breathing rate increasing and becoming more of a breathless pant.
You almost drool at the speed of his frantic hips and can’t help but struggle a moan after every time you feel him press against your g-spot.
‘Fuck baby… if you’re not careful imma hide your birth control pills n’breed you properly. I’ll tie you up and keep you in here until I’ve fucked you enough to see that baby in your stomach’.
Matt is 100% serious at this statement. The feeling of not wearing a condom with you easily becomes one of his new favourite things as he gets drunk on the oxytocin it gifts him.
Tears almost stream from your waterline at the statement, your back now permanently arched and begging for his cum. It’s as if those words coated in pure filth just did it for you, because soon after they’re uttered and Matt reaches down to start playing with your clit, you feel an orgasm dawning over you.
It sparks and bubbles like an undulating wave that gets even stronger after every time it crashes against the walls of your gut. Your breath hitches.
‘Matt I- I think I’m gonna cum’ you struggle up to him, and Matt nods quickly, his mouth dropped open and his hips getting sloppier the more his skin erotically slaps against yours. ‘M-me too’ he stutters, his whole entire body drenched in the sweat of his efforts.
Your orgasm rattles from your stomach all the way to your ribcage, melting over your body like a psychedelic dream before you hear Matt also whimpering loudly into your ear. His forehead crashes down to hit against your collarbone and his arms shake as he too feels the phenomenal rush of his orgasm.
As he continually ruts his hips at a lazy pace, he makes sure to fill you up with all of his thick ropes of cum, the slimy hotness of it drenching both his cock and your walls with an ample amount. Finally, after feeling like he can go no more, his hips relax and slow to a stop.
Both of you pant tiredly as you trail one of your hands up to Matt’s head just so that you can appreciatively stroke it, his cock still comfortably stuffed inside of you.
As far as Matt’s concerned, he’s not moving it an inch because if he does, the cum still coated on it would come dripping out of your spent hole with part of it still strung onto his head and your folds like a string of saliva connected by two pairs of lips.
‘You keeping your cock in me?’ You muse to him sleepily, but with a tone of playfulness as you regain your breathing and stare up at Matt’s ceiling.
You can feel his gentle smile curling against your skin.
‘Wouldn’t want to get our cum all over my bedsheets now would we?’ He responds in just as playful a manner.
‘No, we wouldn’t…’.
Author’s notes p.2: yayyyyy I’m baaaack. I thoroughly apologise for not keeping up with my one smut every weekend schedule but I literally had no time to write last week, it was crazy. However, I’m grateful that I’ve finally finished this one because I’ve been so fucking excited to share it with you, plus people have been dying for it for so long… good to keep the tension building you guys, some slow burn action for you all hehe. Someone tell me why the start of this one is so fucking cute tho?? That’s exactly how I imagine Matt would react with a baby in his close proximity and it makes me want to mother his children lol. Next up is racer Chris so look forward to that, plus ask and request what ever as always!!! Love you all my little cinnamon buns 💋 (Apologies if I miss anyone out on the taglist there’s so many of u now, if I’ve accidentally missed anyone out, pls re-comment on this post that u want to be on it and I’ll add u to my list :))
Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattswifey00 @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chriss @orangeypepsi
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt x reader#sturniolos
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.
﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,
preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?
or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?
meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader
genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.
word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.
warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.
theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..
RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%
"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.
a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.
the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”
“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.
“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.
“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.
“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.
his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.
“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”
“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?
“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.
yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.
“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.
“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.
taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog
#( 🩰 ) 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥!#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen oneshots#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen scenarios#enhypen heeseung imagines#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen sunghoon imagines#enhypen sunghoon smut#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen jake smut#enhypen x you#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen drabbles#enhypen headcanons#enhypen reactions
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Pygmalion!König and Galatea!Reader………. 😖 What do you think?
content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. pining, light angst. self harm, implied animal death (not done by König or reader), fluff, König is horrible and by that i mean yes— he fucks the statue, outercourse, unprotected piv, implied mutual loss of virginity.
notes: lovely Salome did something similar to this already! 💖 however. yes. i am thinking about it and well…. take this out of my hands.
König has never had anything that could properly be called his own.
He walks the city entirely alone, no wife at his side to paw at his chest and bless him with adoring glances. His only steadfast companions are the grit slipping into his sandals as he walks, head held high even as the shadow of a boy begging on his knees for any semblance of love eternally tethers itself to him.
A glance lingering too long at the appeal of a soft face, the brush of his calloused fingertips against a pornai’s bare stomach before deciding that no, he didn’t want something so simple.
He merely slips a few apologetic drachma into her waiting palm and sets her free of him.
A warm body would never be enough, it was the heart that he starved for. To bed some poor creature that would never properly love him would be worse than the greatest of tortures in his mind.
It wasn’t a simple affair to find a lady to marry, either. Foreign soldier that he was, he had no right to some politician’s pretty daughter, court her properly and sweep her away to a bed that’s only ever been a harbor for lonely, twisted bitterness and blood.
Most turned away the moment he passed by: frightened glances that rightfully accused him of immense violence, shushed whispers of “barbarian” passed from soft lips before the sand beneath their fretful feet shifted and their shapes had disappeared from view entirely.
The ceaseless loneliness carves a burning ache somewhere within the expanse of his chest, something he knew he would never truly be free of, not until it rotted it’s way out of him in full.
It only seemed to quiet in moments he shed blood for this foreign country; burying his sword in some poor man’s gut was the closest he could get to sheathing a part of himself inside another, to touching a heart, seeing lips part in a gasp as their world becomes entirely consumed by him.
Just as the many days prior to this one, he grips the hilt of his blade, letting the metal dig into his palm, his knuckles bone white, as he makes his way back to the empty shack deemed a home.
Streets quiet and crowds disperse with each of his silent footfalls— not one of these smaller men or fearful women dares to look him in the eye. The only thing that does, the only eyes that ever lock to his, are those peering out from the harbor.
The figurehead guarding her expertly crafted ship has always called to him.
Her beauty was remarkable, from the curl of her hair to the patient look in her eyes. Her hands clasped before her breasts in silent prayer as she looms over the darkened depths of the sea beyond the soil, calling him to board, to venture away from this place that his left him in such an acute state of misery.
He swears he hears it then, a mere whisper on the wind, urging him in featherlight comfort to lie down his sword and take up the chisel and hammer.
It’s only when he pauses to look the gentle face of the figurehead over once more that he finds himself resolute in what he must do.
— — —
When he took to crafting her it was born of this desperation; hazy moonbeams cutting through the shade of his shack for hours before he would reluctantly pull away from a beautifully carved hand or the soft but stiff curve of a neck to retire to the straw-stuffed mattress at the corner of the room.
She was beautiful, a representation of all of the sweet, effeminate softness he would marvel at from afar. The swell of plush breasts, curved hips and silken thighs, eternally parted by her stance, the sweet face that could make any man feel entirely weak…
His hands tremble when they rest upon her form, unsure of just how such splendor could have come from his own coarse palms.
Weeks of scarce sleep only seemed to further his devoted madness. Though the warring dulled the ache and sated his blade, the longing seemed to only grow far more prevalent.
He yearned when they were apart, dreamt of coming home to her less lifeless and only demure smiles and hurried kisses the moment he would return to her. He would always come back.
Upon her completion, he took to courting her proper. Though she could not in any way reciprocate or reject his advances, he believed wholeheartedly that the cushiony love that had blossomed within his aching, neglected heart must be mutual.
Gifts were strewn at her cold feet, some gilded and shimmery, some soft with an abundance of colorful petals: offerings for a silent goddess that kept a part of his soul hidden away deep inside the pristine marble that she was carved from.
When he wraps her neck in a necklace with a sparkling beryl amulet attached, his hand does drift to the swell of her breast beneath the woolen chiton.
It’s hard and cold, but his groping becomes as incessant as the kisses he presses to her jaw, to her cold lips, tongue leaving a warm path down to her neck before he finds himself committed to having her.
He’s careful when he disrobes her, slowly revealing the mounds and curves and softness of her imitation of human flesh.
Dropping to his knees, his tongue laps at the ivory depiction of smooth lower lips, spearing between each silken ridge until he imagines her eyes squeezing shut as she cries out for him, rolling her perfectly sculpted hips to coat his tongue in waves of vulgar honey.
He moans into her cunt, drools and sucks at the mimicry for as long as it takes to find her thighs drenched in his saliva and his cock aching horribly between his thighs.
He rises to slot himself between her legs, pushing forward with a keening whine that dissipates into a relieved gasp. The feel of her pressed against him; the smooth ridges of her makeshift flesh running over his stiff, leaking cock is akin to finding divinity.
His hands rove over her breasts, thumbs pressed against her eternally pebbled nipples as he kisses her, each sloppy and filled with years of need.
It is pure bliss, almost as though he is burying himself to his hilt inside of her pulsing cunt.
He would fuck her better than any man— not a single other could match the strength of his affections nor his hapless willingness to please.
If he could have carved a proper hole between her legs, not a drop of his seed would be wasted on thin sheets or spilled into his palm, she would be filled, womb brimming until some loving god or goddess blessed her with child.
His pace quickens to the point of frantic, feverish hands drifting to her hips as he mouths at her breasts instead, hissing out praises for how good she feels against him, how his heart bleeds to feel her nearer.
There is so much heat between her thighs now he could swear it burns like the cold mist of the Underworld itself; the fuzzy heat pools from his navel and further as his muscles begin to tense and leave his thoughts a haze and his lips parted in a silent, worshipping cry.
It’s only when he envisions her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, back arching as she drags her nails over his shoulders and whines through her own damnation that his cock throbs in repetition as his eyes roll back. His heavy sack arrives at her mound as his seed spills from him, cascading down to paint the thighs of his silent lover, smeared pearly and glistening over her labia as he rubs his cockhead against her with an agonized groan.
His forehead finds her shoulder, warm breath replacing the coldness of her skin as he wraps his arms around her perpetually beckoning form, lovingly trailing kisses from her clavicle to her ear where he whispers a breathless, “I love you.”
It’s only after he’s finished wiping away the evidence of depravity from her that he feels the first wave of shame, sharp and feathering from his chest that leaves his jaw set and throat tight.
What lowly man envies the warmth others experience with far less gratitude? König has never seen himself as pathetic, no matter how commonly he’s been sent off and kicked like a stray.
She’s the only thing that’s brought him any sort solace in a world that’s left him starved, but also a cruel mirror casting a reflection of his own nature.
Pulling the thin blanket from his mattress, the statue is soon swallowed up in her entirety, all guilt and pity-drawing attestation neatly hidden away behind rippling sable fabric; her form silent and waiting as it would remain eternally.
None of this is enough.
———
König has never found himself fond of prayer, never felt the need to partake in the festivals and ceremonies. His luck in battle was only a mere measure of skill, of a body so brutal and immense that most trembled before him, not born of any benevolent gift. There was no need to kneel, to bestow offerings upon the altars. If the people turned away from him, then surely any god or goddess would be even more inclined to do so.
Only… his mindless wandering has led him here, to Aphrodite’s altar whilst the festival of Aphrodisia plays on everywhere around him. The people invoke and dance, abundant offerings brought forth as the scent of timber burning and bold floral incense floods his senses. Blood and flowers already riddle the stone, a stark vibrancy of color that lures him closer, commands him to kneel.
He doesn’t have a thing to offer to the goddess, not so much as a petal, but if the pull were not just the first signs of a withering mind…
The glimpse of hope he’s offered is not taken for granted.
Thick fingers curl over his sharpened blade, dragging his palm against the steel until it stings almost sweetly. If she could accept the blood of a goat then surely, his could be no more polluted. Beads of crimson revel and dance along his forearm before dropping down onto the stone.
And he does pray.
It is not a vulnerable prayer, one that bares him in full, but only a wish— a longing for warmth, to have her share his breath, to admonish his shame and live free with the one thing that has never given him anything but safe harbor.
He unveils her when he returns, knowing that this is the closest he will ever come to love.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes against her cheek, leaves a kiss there before dragging himself away to disrobe and pull himself back into bed.
When the weariness takes him, his sleep in dreamless and calm. If any blessing were bestowed upon him at all, the surely that would have been more than enough. A night without turning, without visions of a darkened grave devoid of anything to haunt him.
He only begins to stir when the mattress dips at his side, a soft palm pressed to his chest, stroking along the loose curls of auburn there.
“König..,” a voice calls out, more gentle than any he’s ever heard.
He wakes to find her, leaning over him with the sweetest glimmer in her eyes, wide and fascinated. Her touches only trail further up to his face as he tries to silence the rapid beating of his heart, the stinging born of adoration in his own pale blue eyes.
“I missed you,” she whispers, moving to curl at his side, her hands cradling either side of his jaw.
König is utterly stifled and so terribly smitten, the most he can manage is a quiet huff of breath as he rolls onto his side to take this sweet, unreal woman into his arms. Dreaming or waking, it mattered not, if he were given only the night or a lifetime with this beautiful little creature it’s still more than he has ever had.
His head dips to press a chaste kiss to her soft lips, only finding a warmth there that had never been the many times he had kissed her prior. His palm runs along her side, feeling ever perfect dip and curve, all heated and so very alive.
She only falls apart beneath his touch, already quivering and softly gasping even from such a gentle kiss. The thought that this little dove has been longing for him just as much makes his heart bleed. He whispers his apologies against her temple, for his frustrations, for his doubt in their love, for all of the temptations and hatred that plagued his mind before she came to be.
She only answers with eager touches, grasping at him as she murmurs her own perceived shortcomings. If only she knew that she could never do wrong, that she was what’s saved him and that nothing could shatter that.
When her tongue slips past his lips and his breath grows heavy, there’s little else he can concentrate on than the throbbing pillar between his legs, the scent of her around him, under him when he guides her onto her back.
Thanking the goddess could wait, he’s far too focused on the one that’s willingly climbed into his bed.
One hand splays at her side forcing him upright as the other trails over her breasts, a satisfied groan leaves him as he feels her softness, fighting back to urge to squeeze and pinch until she cries in pleasure, howling out like those at the altar he had encountered only earlier.
A nipple is snared between his thumb and index, twisted gently beneath each pad, her back arches…The wetness of the dew slicked flower between her legs brushes against him and he whines like a starved dog finally presented with the aroma of a meal.
His hand falls from her breast to her hip, encouraging her to buck the source of her own need against him— take anything she needed. If she were to pull a blade and carve a hole in his own chest he would only let her, the taste of this heated bliss and the look that she gives him, enchanted and curious, is more than he has ever deserved.
Only does he pause when he parts her thighs, and her stare becomes more curious, searching him for any reason as to why he would even stop.
“We have done this before. Are you afraid now?”
No, he wants to tell her, that before was not the full extent of it. Instead he only laughs, peeling away just enough to fit his head between her legs, mouth only a small measure from her weeping cunt.
“I want to taste you.”
With a whispered plea from her lips, he raises her hips, mouthing and suckling at her until she shivers and sings against the cushions. He groans against her when she does come, her hips stuttering in his grasp as she drives further against him.
He hisses in his mother tongue when he pushes the backs of her thighs up, grinds his leaking tip against her until he swears he really will fall into madness if he doesn’t fuck into her immediately.
The ache in his chest that his been so prevalent for so long is finally smothered out the very moment she tugs him down by his shoulders and pulls him into a frenzied kiss. She encourages him in each lapse, murmurs how long that she’s waited, how starved she’s been for him while hidden away.
He nearly sobs when his tip snags against her entrance, so divinely wet, pulsing and begging just as he is. When he penetrates her, the breath is punched from his lungs, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her within reach as she wraps around his shaft as though her cunt was made for him.
His little dove only covers him in kisses in turn as he mumbles obscenities into her flesh, revelling in her tightness, in the way her body fits so perfectly against his, mutually carved by the gods to fulfill one another. His professions of love come in abundance as she fits her legs over his narrow hips, crying out from his sudden depth as his cock jumps against a spot that leaves her writhing.
Though it’s almost painful to keep himself restrained, he tries his best not to rut into her like a mindless animal, even when he feels her constrict around him as another orgasm leaves her cunt drooling and pulsing. He doesn’t give her time to recover, however… forced to lie in wait for so long, it’s nearly taken out on her as he spears into her as she moans and babbles her praises against his chest.
He’s lost to the empyrean as his muscles finally pull taut, crying as he buries his head into her shoulder and pumps his come into her, shaking as he wraps her up in his arms and clutches her close as he melts against her.
Spent and sated, König holds her tightly against him as they pant and share sweet words, secrets and giggles from her that make every moment of dolor before this night seem insignificant.
She slots her fingers between his own, compliments his damaged face and the worships his body with brushes of her lips and tongue just as he does her. He does not leave her empty, warms her heart with words he’s kept trapped in his throat for months, guides her gently as she perches over him to descend back onto his cock, his thumb stroking her stomach as he tells her over and again just how much he loves her, compared his feelings to that of Orpheus, how he would suffer anything all for her.
A pleading “Stay” is uttered as she falls limp against him, stroking along her back as they come down for the second time that night.
The last thing that leaves her lips before sleep takes her is the most saccharine she’s said that night, a simple, “I love you.”
It’s the only thing that he’s ever truly longed for.
———
They marry after the voyage back to his homeland, his head clouded during the entire trip of seeing her swell with his child in time, a home built with her in mind for the two of them, of lying flowers at her feet just as he had before.
His blade lies neglected in the little glade they had chosen, taking up only a hammer and his own hands as he works tirelessly to provide for his wife, the dove that looks at him as though he were not a dog but a king.
When their home is built after many weeks of tedious work during day and bedding her beneath the stars each night, König only then thinks to pray his thanks to the foreign goddess who gifted his salvation to him with little more than a scrape from his palm. All the while his true goddess leans over him to tickle his cheek with flowers he had plucked for her only moments prior, covering him in a fragrance so sweet it only seemed befitting of herself.
She giggles and sighs when he pulls her down into the grass to roll over her, blanket her in kisses and gentle bites to her throat.
The beryl amulet around her neck catches the glimmer of the sun above as she sifts her fingers through his hair and tells him that the gods already knew he was grateful, that his worship of her was already telling enough.
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
knowledgeworld07
Knowledge World
kysworldgames
Kyra's World
cards0art
CardsArt
ict-marketresearch-reports
Untitled